#Best ever trending searches | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pucksandpower · 1 year

Text

Eurovisionaries

Charles Leclerc x Monegasque singer!Reader

Summary: the “Charles Leclerc competes in Eurovision” fic no one asked for but I wrote anyway

Warnings: none that I can think of

“Why is Charles Leclerc trending in the music section?” You wonder aloud, eyes narrowing as you see the pop-up notification on your Twitter.

Opening the app, you’re met with a tweet from an official Eurovision updates account: “🇲🇨 #Monaco: Eligible to Compete in the #Eurovision Song Contest 2024.” Below it, Charles Leclerc, Monaco’s pride and F1 sensation extraordinaire, has replied to the tweet with a sly “I’m ready 🎤.”

You can’t help but laugh. The thought of Charles taking the Eurovision stage is hilarious. You respond to the tweet, “Ever considered a duet? Though I would advise keeping your day job for now 🏎️😉.” Notifications instantly start pouring in, a flurry of likes and retweets.

Your phone buzzes, a call from your manager, Rosa. “Did you see the Leclerc tweet?” She starts without preamble.

“Of course. The entire principality probably has by now,” you chuckle, imagining the reactions of Monegasque citizens.

Silence. A beat too long.

“What?” You probe, sensing her hesitance.

Rosa exhales deeply, “The Monegasque Eurovision committee called me.”

You sit up, “About the tweet?”

“More than that. They’re seriously considering him.”

“For Eurovision?” You're incredulous, “He’s a racer, not a singer.”

She hesitates, “That’s where you come in.”

A long pause ensues. The weight of her words settles around you. Rosa is never one for jokes, especially when it comes to your career.

“They want you to team up with him,” she continues, breaking the silence, “He can compose and play but they need a voice. Your voice.”

The gravity of the situation dawns on you. Representing Monaco in Eurovision is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity but with Charles? Someone you’ve only admired from afar on the circuit?

“What if it doesn’t work out?” You voice your concerns. “Our styles, our personalities ... they could clash.”

“It’s a risk, yes. But it’s also an opportunity. Both for your career and for Monaco,” Rosa reasons.

You look out of the window, the streets of Monaco stretching below. The pride of representing your nation battles with the uncertainty of this potentially bizarre partnership.

“I need some time, Rosa,” you whisper.

She understands. “Take all the time you need. But remember, some of the best things in life come from taking the most unexpected turns.”

As you hang up, Charles’ tweet flashes on your screen again, the confident smile in his profile picture making you wonder if this journey is one you should embark on.

***

“Are you sitting down?” Rosa’s voice is tense, filled with an urgency you rarely hear from her.

You shuffle around in your apartment, finding a chair by the window. “I am now. What’s up?”

She takes a deep breath, her exhale echoing over the line. “The committee’s made their decision. They want Charles Leclerc for Eurovision.”

You almost drop your phone. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was,” she replies, her tone betraying her surprise as much as yours. “And they want you to partner with him.”

The world seems to blur around you. Images of the grand Eurovision stage, the cheering crowds, and a sea of flags swirl through your mind, and the idea of standing there, alongside someone like Charles, is surreal.

“This is ...” you trail off, searching for words.

“Insane? Unprecedented? A media goldmine?” Rosa supplies, ever the pragmatist.

“All of the above.” The weight of the offer hangs between you, punctuated by the distant sounds of Monaco outside your window.

“What did you tell them?” You ask, after a moment of heavy silence.

“I told them we’d think about it,” Rosa says. “But darling, this is huge. For your career, for Charles, for Monaco!”

You sigh, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I’ve never even met him. What if we don’t click? What if we can’t perform together? What if—”

“What if you soar?” Rosa interrupts gently. “What if this is the push both of you need?”

You consider her words, the promise they hold. But the fear remains. “What if I fall?”

Rosa’s voice softens. “Then you get back up, just as you always have. But you won’t be doing it alone. You’ll have all of Monaco behind you.”

The conversation weighs on you long after you’ve hung up. Charles Leclerc, Monaco’s golden boy, and you? It feels like a dream, one you’re not sure you want to wake up from.

That night, as Monaco’s lights twinkle beneath your apartment, a notification lights up your phone. An email with an official Monegasque Eurovision committee letterhead:

We are pleased to extend to you an official invitation to represent Monaco at the Eurovision Song Contest 2024 in an act alongside Charles Leclerc. Details to follow.

The reality sets in. And it terrifies and thrills you in equal measure.

***

“Are you the singer?” The voice unmistakably belongs to Charles, though softer than the confident tone you’ve heard in his interviews.

You turn, your heart doing a tiny flip. He’s leaning against a grand piano in the center of the room, looking more perfect in casual jeans and a t-shirt than he has any right to. You have to remind yourself to breathe for a moment.

“Are you the racer?” You shoot back, attempting to mask your nervousness with humor.

He laughs, “Touche.”

Both of you approach the piano, the room filled with an almost tangible tension. He extends a hand. “Charles.”

You shake it, feeling the calloused fingertips, likely from handling the wheel so often. “I know. And you probably don’t know me, but ... it’s Y/N.”

“I’ve heard your songs on YouTube,” he admits, releasing your hand. “You have an incredible voice.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, surprised and flattered. “You … drive really fast?”

He laughs again, easing some of the tension. “I try.”

The two of you start the rehearsal, with Charles taking the lead on the piano. The notes are hauntingly beautiful, full of emotion. You find yourself getting lost in the music, your voice blending seamlessly with the tune.

But suddenly, Charles stops playing. “Sorry,” he says, a hint of frustration in his voice. “I’m not used to this. Playing in front of someone.”

You blink, taken aback. “You’re not used to performing?”

“Not like this. Racing, I get. This is … different,” he confesses, running a hand through his hair.

You nod, understanding his fear. “Let’s take it slow. We have time.”

He looks up, his eyes searching yours. “Do we? Eurovision is just around the corner and I will be away a lot of the time for races.”

You take a deep breath. “Every journey starts with a single step. Let’s just focus on today.”

You play and sing for hours, taking breaks when needed. The connection, while still tentative, starts to form. By the end of the session, a shaky version of your Eurovision song emerges.

“I think … I think we could actually pull this off,” Charles admits as you pack up.

“With a lot more practice,” you reply, smiling.

He grins, the confidence you expected from him back in full form. “Challenge accepted.”

Walking out of the studio, you can’t help but feel a tiny flutter of excitement. This partnership, as unlikely as it seemed, might just work.

***

“I’ve never been to this bistro,” Charles admits, looking around the quaint little place you’ve chosen.

“It’s a hidden gem. My little escape in Monaco,” you reply, sipping your tea. “Sometimes the noise of the city gets too much.”

He nods, fidgeting slightly. “I get that. For me, it’s the track. I love racing but our world can become ... suffocating sometimes.”

The vulnerability in his words surprises you. You’d always seen Charles as a fearless driver, not a man who needed an escape.

“You know,” you start, “I always thought you loved the thrill, the fame.”

He chuckles, but there’s a shadow in his eyes. “I love racing. The fame, not so much. I love the fans. I love Ferrari. But it’s overwhelming at times. Especially when the car is underperforming.”

You feel a connection in that moment, the shared weight of expectations. “Music is my escape. But sometimes, the pressure to always be on, to always perform ... it’s draining.”

He looks at you, a new understanding dawning in his eyes. “I never thought about it that way. We’re really quite similar, aren’t we?”

The conversation flows naturally after that, moving from work to personal interests. You discover shared hobbies, like a love for old movies, and differing opinions, like his disdain for pineapple on pizza which you adore.

“Pineapple on pizza is a crime,” he declares, feigning outrage.

“You have no taste!” You retort, laughing.

The afternoon slips away, the two of you lost in conversation. It feels like two old friends catching up, not two professionals thrown together by fate.

As you leave the bistro, Charles hesitates. “Would you like to come to a race sometime? See the action up close?”

You smile, touched by the offer. “Only if you come to one of my performances.”

He grins, “Deal.”

In the days that follow, your rehearsals gain a new depth. The newfound friendship seeps into your music, turning the notes and lyrics into pure emotion. The song evolves, reflecting the story of two individuals finding harmony in the most unexpected place.

Rosa notices the change too. “There’s a spark,” she comments one day, after a particularly moving session. “Both in the music and between you two.”

You blush, dismissing her with a wave. “It’s just the music.”

But as the days blur into nights and rehearsals become more intense, you can’t help but wonder if there’s truth in Rosa’s words.

***

“Is it always this chaotic?” Charles whispers, leaning close so only you can hear as you both step backstage of a popular talk show. Bright lights, cameras, and a bustling crew create a vibrant atmosphere of controlled chaos.

“Welcome to my world,” you reply with a smirk, feeling the familiar adrenaline of a live performance. “A bit different from the paddock, isn’t it?”

His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Just a tad.”

A producer approaches, positioning you and Charles for the interview. As you settle onto the couch, Charles’ arm grazes yours, sending an unexpected jolt of warmth up your arm.

The host, a vivacious woman named Martina, begins, “We have Monaco’s sensational Eurovision duo with us today! Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N. Tell us, how has this partnership been?”

Charles shoots you a glance. “Unexpected at first, certainly. But every moment has been an adventure. We’ve learned from each other and it is reflected in our music.”

You nod, adding, “It’s been a blend of two worlds. And the result is something neither of us anticipated but we have come to love.”

Martina’s gaze flits between both of you, sensing the underlying tension. “There’s undeniable chemistry between you two. It’s clear to me even now. Is there something you’re not telling us?”

Your heart races and you see Charles shift uncomfortably. The question, though posed in jest, holds an element of truth that neither of you has addressed.

“We’re focused on our music and representing Monaco to the best of our abilities,” Charles replies smoothly but the tips of his ears redden.

Martina, sensing a scoop, presses on, “But off the stage? Any sparks?”

You force a laugh, trying to diffuse the situation. “We’re just getting to know each other. Our priority is Eurovision.”

Once off the set, Charles runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you’ve come to recognize as his way of dealing with stress. “That was intense.”

“It’s just the beginning. The closer we get to Eurovision, the more questions like that we’ll get.”

He stops, turning to face you, his eyes intense. “What if there is some truth to their questions?”

The air grows thick, the world narrowing to just the two of you. “Charles ...”

He takes a step closer, his voice dropping. “I can’t ignore it anymore. Every time we’re together, there is this pull.”

Your breath catches, the confession echoing your own feelings. “I feel it too. But right now, everything is so complicated.”

He nods, looking defeated. “I know. Let’s just ... focus on the music for now.”

***

“Are these feathers?” Charles asks, a touch of panic evident as he examines the ornate costume handed to him.

“Welcome to Eurovision,” you say with a wry smile, adjusting the shimmering fabric of your own dress which seems to be a riot of sequins and colors, reflecting the vibrant spirit of the competition.

He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “This is a bit different from my usual race suit.”

You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Just wait till you see the pyrotechnics.”

The two of you stand backstage as acts from different countries, each more extravagant than the last, parade before you. The dazzling array of costumes, the eccentric set designs, and the sheer scale of the event are overwhelming.

Charles, sensing your nervousness, takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got this.”

You nod, leaning into his touch. The tension between the two of you has only grown, making moments like these all the more intense.

Suddenly, a voice announces, “Next up, representing Monaco, please welcome Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N!”

Your heart rate spikes. Charles leads you to the stage, the grand piano at its center surrounded by a sea of lights creating an ethereal atmosphere.

He starts playing, the haunting melody echoing in the cavernous venue. As you join in with your vocals, the world seems to fade away. It’s just the two of you, lost in the music.

The song builds to its climax. You move closer to Charles, the emotional depth of the lyrics pulling you in. The final note lingers and you find yourself drawn to him, your faces mere inches apart.

The audience, sensing the electricity between the two of you, erupts in a frenzy of cheers, pulling you back to reality. You share a charged glance with Charles, the applause deafening.

The performance, though only a few minutes, feels like a lifetime. As you walk off stage, Charles wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “We did it.”

You bury your face in his chest, the heady mix of adrenaline and emotions making everything feel surreal. “We really did.”

***

“And the winner of the Eurovision Song Contest 2024 is ...” The host’s voice draws out, adding to the tension in the room, “Monaco!”

The words hit you like a tidal wave. The arena explodes in applause and cheers, bright lights flashing everywhere. Confetti starts to fall and the air is pure magic.

Charles, equally stunned, turns to you, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Is this real?” He breathes, pulling you into a tight embrace.

Overwhelmed, you cling to him, the weight of your accomplishment settling in. You won Eurovision.

Breaking the hug, Charles lifts you in sheer joy, spinning you around, the world blurring past. Both of you are laughing, tears of joy mingling with the glitter on your face.

As the celebrations continue, you spot the Italian competitors cheering raucously. Somehow, they’ve managed to pull out a Ferrari flag, waving it as proudly as if they had won.

Charles notices too, laughing. “They really do love their racing.”

You smirk, nudging him playfully. “Or maybe they just love their racer.”

The moment is interrupted as you’re whisked away for the winner’s interview and your encore. But the mania doesn’t stop the two of you from sharing stolen glances and smiles.

Later that night, as the euphoria begins to die down, Charles finds you on a balcony overlooking the city. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?” He murmurs, joining you by the railing.

You nod, taking a deep breath. “Winning was the dream. I didn’t think about what would come after.”

He chuckles, “You and me both.”

The night stretches before you, the city lights twinkling like stars. You lean into Charles, drawing comfort from his presence. “What now?”

He takes a moment to think. “Now, we take on the world together.”

***

“I wrote something last night,” Charles says hesitantly. The two of you sit in his apartment, the aftermath of your Eurovision win still a fresh memory.

You tilt your head, intrigued. “For the piano?”

He nods. “But it’s more personal than anything else I’ve composed. I was thinking ... maybe you could add lyrics to it?”

Curious, you watch as he moves to the piano he has against the wall, his fingers delicately dancing on the keys. The melody is raw, filled with emotion. It speaks of longing, of new beginnings, of unspoken feelings.

It’s beautiful.

“That’s incredible,” you breathe once he finishes.

He looks up, vulnerability evident in his eyes. “It's how I feel. About all of this. About you.”

The confession hangs in the air, a delicate thread connecting the two of you.

“I’ve been feeling the same,” you admit, your heart racing. “I wrote some lyrics too. But I didn’t have the melody for them. Maybe ...”

You share the words you penned down, the emotions you felt towards Charles clear as day. Together, the two of you create a song, a musical odyssey of the path you’ve walked together and the deepening connection between you.

Hours pass, the world outside forgotten. The song takes shape, evolving with every note and word.

Charles breaks the silence, his voice soft, “This is special.”

You nod, feeling the weight of the moment. “It is.”

He moves closer, the space between you disappearing. “Every moment with you is.”

Your heart flutters, the intensity of his gaze making you breathless. “Charles ...”

But he silences you with a gentle touch, his fingers brushing your cheek. The world seems to stand still as he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

It’s a new beginning, a promise of what’s to come.

***

“I’m so nervous,” you confess, wringing your hands. The roar of the crowd outside, waiting for the Monaco Grand Prix to begin, is deafening.

Charles pulls you into a comforting hug. “It’s just singing the national anthem. You’ve performed on much bigger stages.”

“But not in front of the entire racing community and Monegasque royalty,” you counter. The idea of serenading the beginning of Monaco’s most prestigious race, especially with Charles being one of the contenders, fills you with anxiety.

He smirks. “You’re worrying about a three-minute song when I have to race for nearly two hours?”

You punch his arm playfully, “Oh, hush. You love it too much to complain.”

His expression turns serious and he takes your hands in his. “It’s just like any other performance but this time, for our people. Focus on that.”

His words sink in. You’re not just singing for the crowd. You’re singing for Monaco. For Charles.

As you step out, the sun glints off the polished cars lined up for the race. The noise is deafening but one look at Charles, his eyes filled with pride, grounds you.

Drawing a deep breath, you begin. Your voice, clear and strong, rises above the commotion, capturing the spirit of Monaco. The crowd falls silent, lost in the beauty of the moment.

When you finish, the applause is thunderous. Charles rushes over, lifting you off the ground in a bear hug. “That was incredible,” he whispers in your ear.

You laugh, the tension from before dissipating. “Now go win the race.”

He winks. “Only if you promise to sing for me every time.”

***

“Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t tweeted that day?” Charles muses, lying next to you on a grassy hill overlooking the city. The stars twinkle above, the night air filled with the scent of blooming flowers.

You chuckle softly, turning to face him. “I would probably be preparing for another solo concert but not much would change for you. You’d still be busy reveling in your racing glory.”

He grins, playfully nudging you. “So you admit I brought excitement to your life?”

You roll your eyes. “Excitement, chaos, media frenzy ... take your pick.”

Silence settles between you two, comfortable yet filled with words unspoken. The city lights below seem distant, the world reduced to just this moment.

Charles breaks the silence. “I can’t imagine my life without you now.”

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heart. “Neither can I. It’s been a wild ride.”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “A ride I would relive in a heartbeat.”

“Charles,” you begin, gathering your thoughts, “we’ve been through so much together and I cherish every moment. But we also need to think about our future. The media attention, the expectations ... it’s a lot.”

He nods, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I know. But we'll face it together. Like we have from the start.”

The promise in his voice fills you with warmth. “Together,” you echo, sealing the commitment.

***

“You’re not serious,” Silvia’s voice cuts through the room. “It’s the biggest sponsorship event of the season. For Ferrari! You can’t miss it.”

Charles looks torn, running a hand through his hair. “It’s Y/N’s first major solo concert. She’s been there for me, every step of the way. I need to be there for her.”

You feel a pang of guilt. “Charles, I understand the importance. If you can’t make it—”

He interrupts, looking you straight in the eyes. “This isn’t just about the concert. It’s about us. About our priorities.”

The room is thick with tension. On your side, Rosa, always the mediator, attempts to defuse the situation. “There must be a way to do both.”

Charles shakes his head resolutely. “I’ve made up my mind.”

Silvia looks at him, her eyes pleading. “You know the implications of this, right?”

He nods, swallowing hard. “I do. However mad the sponsor may be will be worth it.”

Later, the two of you find a quiet corner.

“You didn’t have to,” you whisper.

He pulls you close, his touch reassuring. “But I wanted to. More than anything.”

You look up, eyes glassy. “Why?”

“Because,” he starts, searching for the right words, “these races, these events ... they will always be there. But moments like your concert, they are once in a lifetime. And I don’t want to miss a single second of our journey together.”

The emotion of his words takes your breath away. “Charles ...”

He places a finger on your lips, silencing you. “I love you.”

The words hang in the air. Voice choked with emotion, you reply. “I love you too.”

***

“Do you ever think how surreal all of this is?” Charles murmurs, both of you backstage at the 2025 Eurovision finals, invited back as guest performers. The arena pulsates with excitement, the memories of your victorious performance still fresh in many minds.

You laugh, adjusting your dress. “Every single day. Especially today, coming full circle.”

He takes your hand, the spark between you as electric as ever. “It feels like just yesterday we were thrown into this wild ride.”

A stagehand signals that it’s almost time. The two of you take your positions, the familiar chords of your winning song filling the air. The audience roars in approval, their cheers echoing the joy of that fateful night.

As the final note lingers, you turn to Charles, preparing for the bows. But he isn’t sitting behind the piano. Instead, he’s down on one knee, a small velvet box in hand.

The realization hits you like a tidal wave, your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

Charles speaks loud enough for the world to hear, “From the moment we met, I knew my life had changed forever. I can’t imagine a day without you by my side. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

Tears stream down your face, every emotion amplified. “Yes. I want that more than anything,” you manage to whisper.

He slips the ring onto your finger and the world fades away as his lips find yours. You see the Italian delegation cheering wildly out of the corner of your eye and can’t help but laugh. The hosts may have changed. The competitors may have changed. But the love of Italians for il Predestinato will always live on. They’ll have to get in line, though. You just officially claimed the title of his biggest fan.

1K notes · View notes

sunshine-bones · 1 year

Text

🌻 Actual tips for edtwt 🌻

🌻 Reblogs aren't the same thing as retweets. Post ''threads'' exist, but it's rare to have one person reblog their own post.

🌻 DMing people without asking is normally pretty rude, and not a lot of people are familiar with the DM system on here (called messaging) - there's been a lot of creeps on here in the past, so be cautious in messages.

🌻 People post their general thoughts in tags, so where you'd retweet and write your thoughts in the tweet then add hashtags - here it all happens in tags.

🌻 Most people have their intros and stats either in their bios or as their pinned post - the ''unpinning at x weight'' trend doesn't really exist here.

🌻 On desktop, you can customise your blog and add your own code, themes ect. it's really fun and a good time killer, but be aware all blogs look the same on mobile.

🌻 A bunch of features (search, post archiving ect.) have been broken for years. Don't worry, it isn't just you.

🌻 ED tags change every so often, but ''edblr'' has been the main tag for YEARS now. If you ever get lost, searching that and then clicking around will help you find active tags. The blue butterfly emoji has also been a backup tag for a while now, but the whole ''ricecaketwt'' ''lemonwatertwt'' thing doesn't have a tumblr equivalent.

🌻 If you click the three dots on the side of a post, you can see what date and time the post was made - it's perfectly normal here to reblog, like and respond to old posts.

🌻 Posting pictures of s/h is okay, but please make sure it's tagged properly. Tumblr has it's own tagging system, but it has to have a trigger warning for that to work.

🌻 If you're on desktop, downloading XKit rewritten is a massive time saver - it allows you to automatically add tags, blur out pics (eg thinspo) so you need to click on them, and a bunch of other useful things.

🌻 ''Thinspo imagines'' exist on here, which are basically short stories about what it would be like to be at your UGW in various situations. They're tagged as such, and some of them can be a little cheesy, but still really cute and often motivating.

🌻 For male anas and ftm/transmasc anas, the tags for that are as follows ''trans ana'' ''ftm ana'' ''male ana'' ''nb ana'' ''malespo/malesp0'' - pretty self explanatory.

🌻 There's no word count, but if you're writing a really long post, it's normally good manners to put a ''read more'', just so it doesn't clog up people's dashboards.

🌻 The concept of moots doesn't really exist - there are mutuals, but it's a lot more casual and there's no expectation for you to actually interact with your mutuals personally, aside from liking and reblogging some of their posts.

Last of all, have fun guys! This is a terrible disorder but we're all trying to get through it as best we can. Stay away from people who try and be creeps, give dangerous advice, or condescend you for coming from a different platform. Be safe and feel free to ask any questions you might have 🌻

#Thinspo #tw ed #I wanna be weightless #edtwt #edblr #edblrr #ed no sheeran #thinsp0 #ana #tw ana diary #ed diary #4na #4n4 #malespo #male ana #ftm ana

1K notes · View notes

artificialbreezy · 3 months

Text

AN: I’ve jumped on the best friend trend. so plz enjoy this best friend Noah smutty thought i had. this was a quick write, and also written on my phone so plz ignore the capitalization errors.

NSFW below the cut ◡̈

Honestly, if anyone were to ask, you weren't sure how you would have told them. how it started, who brought it up, or even how the topic came up. but here you were, pj shorts at the foot of his bed, legs spread and Noah watching you from his desk chair.

you were both giggly about it. it seemed silly, but he’s your best friend who cares? but that all went away the second your legs spread. the man's eyes going a little wide, pupils blown as he watched your hand roam down your body.

this wasn't sexy, well it wasn’t meant to be.

"uh, like this?" you asked, a little embarrassed. "fuck, this is stupid."

you were against his pillows, the show long forgotten, the bowl of popcorn moved to his desk. Noah was still at his desk, starry eyes watching you intently.

your hand was down the front of your underwear, shakey fingers searching for something you shared you’d never been able to achieve on your own.

you still were questioning why you told him.

Noah adjusted himself, his growing cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. forever wishing he put on boxers today.

he didn't know the rules when it came to getting yourself off in front of your best friend. so he kept it a little light, laughed breathily and asked, "you're such an idiot. are you even touching your clit?"

his words ran through you, a simple question truly but it was bordering on the dirty talk you desperately craved to come from his mouth.

you squirmed, shrugging, unable to take your eyes off of Noah. he was watching your hand move, content with seeing your fingers moving through your folds.

"i think so?" you claimed. "i don't know. it's just, it's too wet to feel anything really.”

Noah felt his breath get stuck in his throat.

you watched his cheeks burn, wondering if he'd move closer, if you asked.

you don’t know when, but he’s at the edge of his bed now. still in his chair. his fingers brushing against your ankle.

"no, I know. fuck, um-" Noah swallowed, shifting again. "move in circles, be a bit softer. fuck, sweetheart. yeah, you'll feel it."

so you did, two fingers exploring slowly, up and down between your folds, moving a little higher until you reached the spot he was just picking on you for, the pads of your middle and pointer touching a little bump that made your breath hitch.

you laughed to yourself, feeling stupid, feeling floaty, searching for that high. you crinkled your nose, as you did slow circles, soft and shy.

"oh," you mumbled, mouth parting slightly. still watching Noah.

he pressed his lips together, eyes flickering from your hand to your face.

"yeah? does that feel good?"

"uh huh, feels good."

you thought you heard him let out a soft noise.

"will I come?" you asked, still feeling small. "if I keep doing this?"

you were squirming again, moaning softly, chasing your high. he was watching you, open mouthed.

he was too far gone to try and hide it, when he dragged his palm over himself, you moaned, eyes following his movements.

"yeah, fuck. just keep doing that. do what feels good, okay?" voice hoarse, and wrecked, "you're doing so good, baby."

the praise made your hips lift from the bed a little, fingers moving down a little further, confidence building as Noah kept rubbing over his cock,"holy shit, that's fucking hot. you gonna show me how tight you are?" he croaked.

“uh huh”, head tipped back into the pillows. you wanted him to keep talking. you just didn't know how to ask him.

your foot slipped, bumping into Noah's arm and he caught your ankle, wide palm wrapping around as he held you. making you shiver.

"oh, there you go," he murmured. “that's it, baby. fuck, you're so good. can't believe you're gonna let me watch you cum. gonna be a good girl and show me how bad you want it? won’t ever need anyone else after this. just me and you.”

#noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian blurb #noah sebastian headcanons #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens smut #bad omens headcanons #bad omens blurb #bad omens fanfic

328 notes · View notes

theemporium · 1 year

Note

idk if you’ve seen it but there’s a trend on TikTok of playing a voicemail of a creepy guy in front of your boyfriend and I feel like brothers bff!reader would have to literally console quinn after trying that prank on him. boy would be murderous.

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

It was just meant to be a prank.

A friend had sent you it, laughing at the compilation of reactions the video included to the fake voicemail. It was entertaining seeing how these men reacted differently, or seeing how many of them instantly became protective of the woman in their life who played the fake voicemail.

You thought it looked fun to try out.

It was some random week in October when you decided to fly out and spend some time with Quinn. It was reading week back in college and you had worked pretty well at staying on top of your classes, so you deserved the treat to fly out and spend some time with your boy.

And other than the practices Quinn had to attend, he was practically glued to your side the rest of the week which made it easy to pull off the prank on a Thursday morning when you were sitting on the counter as Quinn made you both coffee.

“Oh god.”

“What’s wrong?” Quinn asked, his back still facing you but the disgusted scoff gave him a clear understanding that you weren’t happy.

“Nothing, just an annoying lab partner,” you murmured, pressing your lips together to try and hold back your giggles. “I think he left me a voicemail.”

Quinn didn’t get much of a chance to say anything before the voicemail started. You watched him closely, the way his actions paused as he began to listen.

“This is the final chance I am giving you. You are being ridiculous, and like most women, not thinking logically. Consider this your last chance to put your emotions aside and think with your brain.”

The coffee was abandoned in seconds as Quinn whirled around, looking at you with an expression mixed between shock and disgust. He placed his hands on the counter, stepping towards you as he continued to listen to the voicemail.

“I am a good guy, one of the best you are going to find. So, I suggest you stop playing this hard-to-get game because nobody is believing you. You won’t find anyone better than me, not at college and not in bed. I have reservations for Friday night at the Italian place off campus. I expect you there and—”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Quinn gritted out between clenched teeth, a disgruntled scoff leaving his lips as he reached for his phone. “Give me a name.”

You blinked, almost surprised by the expression on his face. You didn’t think you had ever seen Quinn so angry before, not even on the ice.

“A name,” Quinn repeated as he looked over towards you, eyes darkened and jaw clenched. “That is…he’s a fucking pervert. And a creep. I don’t want him near you. I don’t want him in the fucking college.”

“Quinn—” you started, but he was lost to his own anger now.

“I’m gonna make sure he’s kicked out and sent somewhere far fucking away from you. Better yet, we can get a restraining order,” he continued as he scrolled through his phone, his eyebrows furrowed together as he searched for something. “I don’t want you going back with him just walking around. Does Luke even know? Does anyone—”

“Quinn,” you said again, a little louder this time as you rounded the counter to gently take ahold of his hands. You slowly pried the phone from his hands, a sheepish expression on your face. “He isn’t real.”

He frowned. “What? Babe, you don’t have to protect him—”

“I’m not protecting anyone, Quinn, I—” You took a deep breath before you continued. “It was a prank I saw on Tiktok. People were posting their partner’s reactions and I thought it would be funny.”

“Oh,” was all Quinn seemed to say.

“I’m sorry—” But you cut yourself off when he launched towards you, wrapping you in a tight hug as he clung onto you. Your arms automatically wrapped around his torso, nuzzling yourself further into his chest.

“You’d tell me if something like that was really happening, right?” Quinn murmured against the top of your head.

“Of course,” you answered honestly.

“Good,” he said with a small sigh, his arms tightening around you. “I’d kill any fucker that makes you uncomfortable.”

You snorted. “It was kinda hot seeing you get all protective.”

“I’m glad you think as much because even though I know it’s fake, my body hasn’t caught on yet so I am not letting you go for the next hour,” Quinn murmured, though you could hear the smile in his voice.

“I have no issue with that,” you replied honestly, biting back your own grin as he placed a kiss to your forehead.

#quinn hughes #nhl #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

798 notes · View notes

leclucklerc · 10 months

Text

Check Point MV1 - 02. Bad Decision

Pairings: Max Verstappen x Actress!Reader

Summary: Going to a Grand Prix in the midst of an emotional turmoil is not something she recommend to anyone.

Word Count: 3.3k

Previous Masterlist Next

This is wrong, she thought as she entered the highly populated Grand Prix entrance. She could see countless of cameras, as well as the scream and gasps that trailed after her as more and more people realized her identity.

This is wrong, she thought, as she took a picture with her dad in front of the Ferrari hospitality. Both in the prancing horse color – blazing red.

This is wrong, she thought as she stared at the huge picture of Charles Leclerc. Smiling and staring at her. Smiling and staring at her, just like years ago when the three of them – her, Charles, and Max – is still the best of friends. As if, this simple picture could read her deepest thoughts.

This is wrong, she thought as she decided that staying in the Ferrari hospitality is the wrong move – all the stares, all the whispers, Charles’s face being everywhere - and decided that it’s time to run away – the very thing that she did best – before she met any familiar face.

This is wrong, she thought as she bumped into someone. Protest already on her tongue before she looked up, only to see familiar familiar blue eyes staring at her.

Oh, she thought.

This is wrong.

This is right.

Max Verstappen stood in front of her, decked in a Red Bull polo shirt as well as jeans. There’s a cap perched on top of his head, the number one blazing on it. A clear mark about his position. A clear mark to the world that he is the world champion.

That the little Max that she had known for year had reached his dream.

What a bittersweet feeling.

“Hi?” said the woman, throat suddenly too narrow to say anything. As if, she’s not used to talking to someone.

Or maybe it’s because it is Max standing in front of her. Max with his blond hair. Max with his blue eyes. Max who always has that warm smile on his face every time he sees her.

“Y/n,” breathed out Max. “It’s been a while.”

God, she wants do die.

In hindsight, going to the grand prix is a bad idea. She knows that. Her father knows that. Everyone knows that.

But fuck, her pr manager doesn’t know that or he refused to know that.

Max looks good. She had always known that Max is a cute kid but grown up max looks really good. Maybe it’s the world champion shine, maybe it’s because he finally grown out of his baby fat, or maybe it’s just for the simple fact that he carried himself differently than before.

More mature. More confident.

But yeah. Max looks good.

(Maybe he looks good for the simple fact that he’s Max. The Max that had teased her countless of times. The Max that had accompany her throughout her childhood.)

It’s been years since she saw him directly. It’s been years full of missed calls and failed meetups. It’s been years and years of running away and refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room between the two of them.

“Yeah,” she said, eyes fluttering everywhere. Desperately trying to find any kind of distraction that can get her out of this situation. “It has been a while. 4 years?”

“Five,” said the male instead, eyes locking at hers and Y/n just can’t look away. She had always been weak for those blue eyes after all. “It’s been five years since I last saw you.”

Guilt bubbled inside of her. This feeling that had been eating her up ever since she entered the Grand Prix gates. This uncomfortable feeling that had been nagging her nonstop as more and more people realize her attendance.

The almost terror like feeling that she felt when she saw her name trending on top of the race itself.

“I-“ she started, wanting to search for some kind of excuse just to get out of this situation. “My dad is waiting for me at the Ferrari hospitality so-“

A hand shot up, grabbing her hand. Effectively rendering her from getting away.

Max seems familiar with her tendency to just run away, that’s why he immediately caught her. Not wanting the female to walk out of his life once again.

“Max-“ said y/n, staring at the hand that’s holding her own. “Can you let go-“

“No,” answered the male before he started dragging her. “It’s been years since we last talked, we will be having a proper conversation right now.”

“The race is about to start!” protested the girl, struggling. “And I know you have media-“

The male snorted at that. “Well then, I just got an excuse to bail on media appearances then.”

“Max!”

It was not long before they arrived in a pretty secluded spot, behind all of the team trailers that anyone barely use. Y/n is a bit surprised that Max knows this kind of place, considering how big his daily entourage should’ve. But at the same time, remembering how the male sometimes have to retreat to a quiet place after a chaotic day, she’s also not surprised that he knows this kind of place.

A place where he can be alone. A place, where no one can interrupt his moment of silence.

The male finally stopped dragging her, though his hands are still locked around her own tightly. As if she would run away if he ever loosened his hold. As if, that if he let her go once again, y/n will go and disappear. Refusing to meet him for years and years.

They stared at each other, not even daring to touch the elephant in the room.

Finally, it was Max who broke the silence. “It’s been a while” he said again, hold tightening. “I almost forgot how you looks like.”

Y/n knows that it’s a lie, considering how much the media loves her face. Though, she also knows that it’s also Max’s way to lessen the tension. To make things a bit lighter.

“And I didn’t forget yours,” she finally answered after a few moments of silence. “I see that you had become the world champion,” At this, she stared pointedly at the number one plastered across his cap.

Max too seems to notice how her attention had shifted. The male reached out, taking off the cap from his head. “Ah, yeah,” he said.

“It looks great on you,” she blurted out, not thinking much. “I mean, the number one. It fits you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” replied y/n without missing a beat. Because isn’t that what Max had always wanted? To have the number one. To become the world champion. To gain a bit of a freedom from his father.

(She blatantly ignored that it’s also Charles’s dream to become a world champion. She too, ignored the fact that it also used to be her dream to become a world champion.

Ignorance is a bliss, an y/n follows that phrase like a devout believer.)

A small smile appeared on Max’s face at that. “Here,” he said, putting the cap on top of her head. “I also thought that you look great with the number one.”

Ah, she thought. Legs going a bit weak.

That statement brought out so many memories of her childhood. Of her spending her time in the racing track. Of her racing with both Max and Charles. Of those blissful days of her childhood where racing was still an integral part of her life.

She had always wanted this. To have the number one. To be the driver that has the honor to wear the number.

The memories of her dad blazing red Ferrari and the number one plastered across it appeared inside of her head. Of Max’s now very own Red Bull and the number one plastered across it.

It was such a reminiscence of her childhood. Of the beautiful days full of blissful childish dream.

Going to the grand prix is a bad idea.

“Thank you,” she said, voice a bit wobbly. “I’ll- wearing a Red Bull cap with a Ferrari racing jacket can cause quite a scandal. This should stay between us.”

Max let out a small laugh at that. “A secret between us two?” he said, a teasing tilt on his tone. “How scandalous.”

Y/n snorted at that, feeling amused. “We have plenty of secrets between the two of us,” she said, reminding him of all the unspeakable things that they had shared during their childhood years. “Like during that time when we have our ski trip in second grade-“

“And we promised that we never talked about it again, right?” cut off Max.

The female let out a laugh at that. Max too, seems amused.

She almost forgets the tense atmosphere that had engulfed them beforehand. She had almost forgot the now broken friendship between them. Of countless childhood memories being down in the drain. Of her, desperately trying to salvage and destroy it at the same time.

Y/n is indecisive. She knows that she’s indecisive.

Sometimes, she felt sad that her bond with both Max and Charles had become like this. Frayed to almost oblivion. That the strong friendship that they had forged from years of years being rivals to each other in the karting track becomes nothing but acquaintances.

Though, sometimes, she too felt grateful that their bond becomes like this. That there are no more reminders of what could have been. No more remainders of her now broken dreams and broken-

“What happened then?” asked Max, after their laughter subsided. “What the fuck happened to us?”

Yes.

What the fuck happened to them?

She too, doesn’t know.

“I-“ she started. “I think we just grew up,” replied the woman, blurting out the first bullshit that appeared inside of her head.

Max furrowed his eyebrows at that. Not believing her at all. Y/n doesn’t even believe herself too.

“Bullshit and you know that” he said, calling her out for that shitty answer. “Y/n we grew up together. The both of us knows that it’s bullshit.”

“I mean,” she said again. “We grew up together but we haven’t met each other for years-“

A hand grabbed her wrist. It’s a tight grip, indicating that the male in front of her doesn’t want her to escape this conversation. “And,” he started, blue eyes boring into hers. “Why do you think that happened?”

“i-“

“I reached out,” he said. “Me and Charles tried to reach out to you for years! We even reached to your dad, but you never seem interested to talk to us anymore!”

She knows. She knows that the both of them had visited her childhood home a year ago. She knows because she had tried to find any possible reason to not meet them, much to her dad dissapointmen.

“Max-“

“I know that you’ve been making your name in Hollywood, jetting off here and there and becoming incredibly busy- but do you really not have the time to at least talk to us once these past years?” asked Max. There’s a faint tremble on his tone. Something that is so unlike the man.

After all, Max had always been confident. He had always had that self-assurance that he’s the best. That he will become the number one in the world.

To hear him, sounding shaky and emotional like this is-

“I’m sorry,” y/n finally said. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She doesn’t know what the stare Max is giving her means. She doesn’t know what the prolonged silence between the two of them actually means. She doesn’t know anything.

Y/n doesn’t know how to say sorry properly. She doesn’t know how to mend all the broken bonds and friendships that she had broken all these years. She doesn’t know how to face her childhood best friends properly after years and years of avoiding them.

She really doesn’t know anything.

She only knows how to run and run. To hide away from the reality in front of them. Always stubbornly try and avoid them like a plague.

“Is this because what happened in 2015?” asked the male finally. “Or is it because Monaco 2016?”

Both.

She wants to say both.

2015

“What do you mean you’re not racing anymore?”

Y/n stood on the Toro Rosso garage, regretting her decision wholeheartedly. In front of her, stood her best friend, clad in the standard polo uniform of the team and staring at her as if she’s grown a second head.

“Like, literally,” she replied, nervous.

Max continues to stare at her. “Are you sick?” he finally asked after a few moments of silence. “That’s why you’re taking the season off?”

No.

No, it’s not because of that.

“No,” she said after another silence passed between the two of them. “It’s… I quit racing.”

“What do you mean you quit racing?” pressed on the male further. “You’re in the Ferrari driving academy!”

Red appeared inside her mind. The prancing horse with yellow background. She could almost imagine her dad, laughing with Ferrari merchandise donning around his body. She too, could almost see the various Ferrari memorabilia scattered around her childhood house. Of fast red cars and your dad winning championships with equally red race suit. Of the academy who had given her the chance to be a driver.

Of the place, where she cried and cried until her voice became raw. The beautiful scenery of Maranello became nothing but a blur as she slumped inside an almost abandoned alleyway all those months ago.

Of her dad, winning and celebrating with that red race suit. The symbol of the prancing horse proudly on his chest.

Of the academy that made her realized that y/n is not the chosen one.

“Last night I dropped out,” blurted out the female and she regretted it immediately at the sheer shock and disappointment that appeared on Max’s face. “It’s… I decided that I’m not going to race anymore.”

The male scrunched his eyebrows together as if she had done something unfathomable. And maybe it is to Max. After all, racing had always been everything to him. He had dedicated so much time and effort in this sport that the mere thought of quitting is something that he can’t process.

And- and y/n gets it.

If she were in max’s position, she will also have the same reaction. After all Max is the youngest driver to ever debuted in Formula One. He had skipped the lower category and went straight towards a seat in Toro Rosso. He had advanced further compared to y/n and Charles.

He’s the chosen one. The very person that fate had chosen.

It’s not her.

“But why?” he asked, voice small. As if, he was afraid what her answer will be.

And y/n, y/n found herself to be conflicted.

She should have told him about all the mounting pressure that she had to bear in an almost daily basis. The dread that she always felt as she saw her dad’s name all around Maranello. The gazes full of expectations – of great things, of changing histories – that people would always direct towards her. The friendly gestures – fake or real – that people had shown her to get into her good grace.

The pity on their eyes when they realized that maybe she’s not talented enough. That maybe, she won’t be the person that’s going to change Formula One.

The scenery that had become nothing but a blur one month ago. Of the loud crash that had reverberated across the air as she remembers nothing of it. Of her waking up in a hospital room, alone.

Of her trembling hand as she reached out for the steering wheel. Of the pounding heart and the unsteady breath.

Y/n should’ve had said that. After all, both are the victims of a too heavy last name. The both of them are the victims of a too big expectations. Max would have understood if she told him all of this. Hell, he would’ve even advised her on what to do. To help her.

But y/n didn’t tell him that.

Run, her mind whispered.

Run, before it’s too late. Go and escape before it’s too late.

(“This world is a cruel place, dear,” whispered her mother as she cradled her face softly. Y/n could see the painted lips – dark red, a symbol of independence and allure – curving into a small smile. “This world is a cruel place for a pretty thing like you.”

“Why?” she had asked, not understanding what the older woman is trying to say.

“You will know,” answered the woman. “Never show your true feeling. Never give your heart easily. Protect yourself.”

Y/n stared at her, as the older woman continue to stare at her too.

“By the end of the day,” muttered the woman as she held her close. “The only one you can trust is yourself.”)

Be a coward and run away.

Don’t give your heart too easily.

Protect yourself.

“It’s…” she trailed off instead, doesn’t know where to start. “I got an offer… for a movie.”

The both of them stared at each other amidst the silence. Max stared at her as if she had gone crazy and maybe she is. Maybe she did go crazy.

A mad woman. A mad woman who is bearing the too heavy burden of her last name.

“A movie,” said Max finally. “All of this, just for a movie.”

It’s not just a movie, she wants to refute. Because it’s a movie from a famous director. It’s a movie that offered y/n a lead role. A movie with amazing script and star-studded cast. A movie that already got an Oscar buzz even though it hasn’t even been released yet.

So yes. It’s not just a movie.

It’s a chance for y/n to be the chosen one. To be someone that fate chose.

It’s a movie, that will give her a chance to forget about everything. To forget about her trembling hands and the awful memories. The movie that will make her forget about Maranello and the prancing house.

After all, her mother had always said if you’re successful enough, everything will become enjoyable.

All she needs is to become a successful enough actor. If she managed to do that then maybe she can forget-

The three of them, laughing at the karting track. Of the intense and yet enjoyable rivalry between the three of them.

Stop.

She needs to forget.

But she knows Max wouldn’t get it.

“I-“ started the girl. “I just think that there’s no place for me in Formula One,” she said.

Max scoffed. “How do you know when you didn’t even try?” he hissed out. “You- you were so close! Sauber will open a seat for you!”

And, oddly enough, that made her mad.

Because not everyone is Max Verstappen. Not everyone has an overwhelmingly talent like Max Verstappen. Not everyone can become a Formula One driver at 17. Not everyone can turn all the pressure and expectations into something that they can be proud of!

(Because that’s what happened to her. Unlike Max who decided to face it head on, y/n decided to run away.)

“How do you know that?” she asked instead, voice rising. “How do you even know I have a future here!?”

“Because you have!” exploded Max. “You belong here! Not in some place like Hollywood!”

“But I love acting!” said the female.

“You also love racing!”

The both of them stared at each other. The tense silence between the two of them only stopped when someone knocked the door towards Max’s driver room.

It was not long before an employee of Toro Rosso appeared. “Um, Max?” asked the man, peering around the room cautiously. It seems he realized the tense atmosphere between the two of them. “We’re going to start soon?”

“Yeah,” replied Max, “I’ll- I’ll be there soon.”

The employee left and Max turned his attention back to her. “Stay here,” said the male. “We’ll talk, after the race.”

Y/n gave a stiff nod as the male left the room.

She silently stared at the white walls, letting the silence enveloping the room as she sat there silently. It was also then when she turned her attention towards the door.

Well, she thought, grabbing her bag.

Y/n had always been good at running away anyway.

taglist!

@mynameisangeloflife @dl-yum @hockeyboysarehot @stopeatread @cha-hot @ironmaiden1313 @unlikelythingbasement @sofs16 @laneyspaulding19 @poppyalice2001 @drewismypookie @chiliwhore @ilove-tswizzle @woderfulkawaii @sialexia @celesteblack08 @thewannabewriter @ririyulife @luisie

462 notes · View notes

be-missed · 10 months

Text

Bad for Business

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

(picture not mine)

Summary: After receiving a text message from her manager, what would Jenna do? Will she and Y/N can still fix their friendship?

Warning/s: curse words.

A/N: Part 3, thanks for waiting, noticed you liked this one. Emma Myers is the Emma. Also, give me a name for Y/N's best friend, please.

Masterlist

Cool About It (Part 1) | Nothing To Lose (Part 2)

______________________________________________________________

Jenna is currently sitting on the sofa on her manager's office.

"What is your problem Jenna? You have invited a big crowd and thank heavens we don't need to delete much picture from the both of you because they were so surprised from what you did. We only have a few twitter and tiktok accounts that still post what happened." Jenna's manager told her as he seats in front of the girl.

"I'm sorry..."

The only words that came out from Jenna's mouth ever since she was brought by her manager from Y/N's unit to the office, because inside her head, she goes back to the moment where Y/N admitted her feelings. She could've react differently instead of being silent, she could've agreed to Y/N and talk to her, or maybe she can kiss Y/N to prove that she also wants to kiss the girl, or maybe just maybe, she doesn't pull the shit from the park and just watched a movie.

There are so many 'what if's' and 'could've been' that's running inside Jenna's mind not until the voice of her manager removed her from her thoughts.

"Do you understand? We just need you to follow what we said and we will be alright" Jenna's manager said and looked at her intently, looking like he will never take a no for an answer.

Jenna then just nodded her head and quietly said "yes."

Jenna's team was now fixing the table and the papers that were scattered on the table not until Jenna broke the chaos "Please don't contact Y/N anymore. I don't need you in her business." She said and looked intently to her team, and directed it to her manager.

A long pause was given, half-heartedly, her manager nodded. That made Jenna feal at ease somehow, because she doesn't want Y/N to get stress about this issue, it is all her fault anyway.

Even though Jenna doesn't quite remember what are the rules that her manager and her team gave her, she just go with it, because it's normally lesser public appearance, lesser use of her social media, and sadly, lesser meet-ups with Y/N. She thinks she can handle it, because in a few week, she'll be back to filming Wednesday S2 and just will be facetiming Y/N. If Y/N will answer, she thinks.

---

Jenna was now in her bedroom, tired after the long night that she had. Fumbling with her phone, thinking if she should text Y/N and ask her about what happened, Jenna was pulled out from her thoughts by a facetime call, it is Emma.

"I WAS RIGHT" Emma said, "I WAS RIGHT YOU LIED TO ME, HOW COULD YOU?"

Jenna was stunned because what the fuck is Emma talking about, she have no idea, "What are you talking about?" Jenna asked with full curiosity.

"You and your long time friend who owns the coffee shop inside the studio is dating!" Emma exclaimed like stating the truth, Jenna then replied "No, no, what do you mean?"

"Like bestie, your proposal in the lake is all over the internet right now, I should congratulate you, or not I guess" Emma stated as she started to send screenshots to Jenna from twitter to tiktok. Jenna then shakes her head "No, this can't be, my team deleted all the pictures and articles about this." Jenna was slightly panicking because she thought that her team have deleted any pictures and articles from the proposal.

"I'll call you later I promise, bye" Jenna ended the call without giving Emma a chance to reply and reactivated her twitter account just to see what Emma is talking about, and the other girl was right, the both of you are trending.

In her search list, the words that was associated to the both of you are I knew it, dumbass, and Her loss.

She saw tweets like stating that they knew it from the start that Jenna and Y/N was in a relationship, another tweet said that Y/N was dumb to reject Jenna, and some were begging Jenna that if she proposed to them they will say 'yes'. But Jenna thought, they are not Y/N, they are not the person that she likes.

After opening Twitter, she went straight to tiktok and search her name, which is probably not the right thing to do but she wants to see what people say to you, the last thing that she wants is for the general public to hate you and blame you.

And with that, almost all of the videos of Jenna and Y/N are edited with the song Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift. Captions in the videos are quoting the lyrics from "You won't remember all her Champagne Problems" to "I can patch up the tapestry that she shred." She also saw some comments in the video saying "she's fucked in the head" pertaining to Y/N.

That broke her, why are you getting all the hate if it is all her fault? You don't deserve this madness that she brought to your life because all you did was to bring her sunshine and be the silver lining to every dark cloud that she had. You were right, she thought.

Jenna then calls her manager and he answered fast "I thought you all deleted the pictures and the news? What happened now?" Jenna said full in rage, angry for what the public is labeling you as, "I thought you agreed?" Her manager replied "We would not delete the pictures and the news, but we would let it grow, we can handle it anyways, we just need to get Y/N out of the picture and make sure that she will not be part of any narrative. That woman is bad for business Jenna, we're telling you."

That stunned Jenna, all the time that they were talking inside the office she was so occupied with thoughts of you that she fucking agreed with this shit where you are scrutinized. Jenna then starts to cry and ended the call. What she did next will probably make her manager more angry with her.

She went out of her bedroom, grab her coat, grab her keys, ride her car, and drove to your apartment.

---

Currently in your apartment, you are with you best friend trying to read all the shit that was thrown into you in the internet. You told her the whole story and she thought that was a shit move for Jenna, because not only her manager hated you, but now, almost all of the people in the world hated you.

"I told you Y/N it was a bad idea to go that day didn't I?" your best friend told you proving a point but you can't even focus on her voice because you were so drowned out with your own thoughts that was coming in like a flood.

Your best friend kept on talking and talking until they noticed that you were just spacing out and sat next to you and pulled you in a hug which you gladly melt in to, "I'm sorry this is happening, I didn't mean to blame you, but your friend is fucking shit."

A knock to your door was heard which your best friend gladly attend to. Opening the door they were so stunned for seeing who is in the other side, Jenna.

"What do you need?" your best friend tells Jenna, which she answered "I need to talk to Y/N please." Your best friend just looked at Jenna not until your voice was heard from the inside telling that Jenna should come in.

"You have the guts to show up here, make this right." Your best friend threatens Jenna and left the apartment leaving you and Jenna alone.

"I'm sorry" Jenna started, looking at your back. You tap the empty space beside you and that is where Jenna is walking to, seating beside you.

"I wanna blame you for everything Jenna." Y/N blurted out, not facing Jenna, "I wanna blame you for everything that is happening right now." Y/N lets out a heavy sigh.

Jenna answered "I know, I know, and I'm sorry, I should be the one who gets to be blamed, I don't know what to say, I'm really just sorry and I wanted to tell that you were right." Jenna is now trying to stop the tears from falling while she looks at you, "Y/N please, look at me, just tell me what to do for you to forgive me, I'll do it, please" Jenna begs.

Y/N looked at Jenna with so much pain in her eyes, "be gone."

Seconds have passed, Jenna was too stunned to even speak, still processing what you said.

"No, Y/N please no, this can't be" Jenna said, "This was what your manager wanted in the first place, he wanted me out of the picture ever since you blow up. I don't fucking blame him for that because who am I, right? But this is not the way I imagined it" Y/N looked so defeated in Jenna's eyes. Y/N was willing to give up their friendship, even if it's not what she wants.

"No, that's not gonna happen Y/N, you are my best friend and I can't just leave you hanging, getting all the scrutiny from the media, from the public. This is entirely my fault, please, don't ask me to leave." Jenna plead, because that was the last thing that Jenna wats to do, to leave you.

"Jenna we can't be friends okay, don't you understand? You leaving me would benefit the both of us; it will benefit you since there will be one less problem to your management and it will benefit me because it can possibly help me to move on from you." Y/N said with a sad smile.

"Move on? The hell are you saying? There will be no moving on for you because..." Jenna said, making Y/N confused "because I like you too. I like you too, just like how you like me Y/N."

Y/N laughed "Stop with the pity Jenna, I know you are sorry but you don't need to tell me that you like me to give me a proper closure."

"No, but I'm not lying Y/N, I swear to God, I like you too and I'm just too scared to admit it to myself because I got so scared for what will happen to me, to us, to our friendship." Jenna said, trying to convince Y/N, but Y/N won't budge and just shakes her head.

"Jenna it's okay, you don't need to lie, I understand" Y/N said standing up from the sofa.

"But you don't understand Y/N, I like you, for real, without a doubt. Even before this shit happened, even before that dinner in our house, that night stroll in K-town, the first picture of us from the public, even before my manager knew you; I liked you since then" Jenna said standing up and getting a hold of your hand.

Y/N started to shake her head and retracted her hands from Jenna's hold "This can't be Jenna" Jenna then answered "How can you not believe that I like you Y/N."

"Because I'm just me Jenna, I'm just me and you're you. I mean, you can find someone who's better than me and who will be good for your name, but I'm just me Jenna" Y/N explained.

"But that's it Y/N, I like you because you are you, and I wouldn't want to like anyone because they are not you," Jenna said and continued "Please just tell me what can I do, please."

Y/N sat on the far side of the sofa, her mind twirling with the words that came out from Jenna's mouth. She's very glad that Jenna likes her back, but the damage was done, the media hates her, Jenna's manager hates her, and the public hates her. But most importantly, Jenna hurt her.

"I honestly don't know Jenna" Y/N confessed "You hurt me, and I don't know what to do. The public also despise me, and your manager hates me."

Jenna then kneels beside Y/N and said "I know, I know. I'm gonna tell you how sorry I am and I will apologize until you forgive me but I also know that it isn't enough for you to forgive me. The damage is big and let me just think of a way to handle it. As for my manager, let me just think again." and chuckled looking at you.

Y/N knows to herself that a simple apology from Jenna will make all the pain go away, but this is different, Jenna really hurts Y/N's feelings.

Y/N gave a sad smile to Jenna which Jenna gave back, she rested her head at Y/N's thigh and dropped a light kiss on her knees. Y/N tried to relax in the seat and puts her hand on Jenna's hair and caress it that makes the other girl relax too.

Minutes of silence have passed until Jenna bounced between Y/N's thighs and opened her camera.

"What are you doing?" Y/N asked Jenna and the other girl answered "I'm gonna do something. You just need to stay still, okay?"

Jenna puts her phone down, directed to your indoor slippers since the both of you decided to buy a matching indoor slippers because "it's cute", and captures it.

It surprised Y/N "Okay, what the fuck was that for?" Jenna then answered Y/N "Since my management is not dropping any statement and I didn't sign any contract to get you out of my life, I will be the one to make an announcement."

Y/N questionably looked at Jenna, not sure on what Jenna will do with the picture, not until Y/N saw Jenna opened her Instagram account.

"Jenna, NO." Y/N said while trying to get Jenna's phone, but Jenna knows that Y/N will gonna do so Jenna pushed Y/N away from her and starts to type.

Y/N then surrender, both of her hands up in the air and said "Okay, I'm not gonna get your phone, but please just tell me what you're doing."

Jenna then situated her phone between the both of them and made Y/N read what she typed.

With a surprised look Y/N said "Are you fucking insane? Are you sure? What the hell are you thinking?"

"Please trust me on this." Jenna said with a smile and Y/N just nodded and answered "This doesn't mean I forgive you" and Jenna bring her phone down and looked at Y/N directly and said "I know, I will do my best to earn your forgiveness and trust me back, I just hope you still love me then."

And that made you smile, because you know in your heart, you will always love Jenna, "I will promise to love you" Y/N answered with a small smile.

---

In his office, Jenna's manager was reading what Jenna posted and it is a picture of Jenna and someone's feet, but boy does he know who it belongs

After seeing the post, Jenna's manager can feel the nerve on his right lobe pulsated with what he saw. Because what the fuck is this?

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Thanks for waiting, I hope this satiated you all. Just play nice with the ig post please. I feel like I'm gonna have a headache, lol. I also don't know if I tagged the right people, I'm sorry.

People who wants to be tagged (I hope I get to tag you all):

@lilbitdepressed27 @jusnough @stalinf @mirage018 @geed-3 @atlafanforlife @adam-malkov @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths @canvascoloredin

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #fiction #fanfic #jenna ortega imagine

266 notes · View notes

aces-and-angels · 3 months

Text

ART CAMPAIGN BOOST SUBMISSIONS:

edit: i hit the image limit for this post, so any new additions will be included here

the tag is starting to get kinda crowded (great problem, dw). i just thought compiling them all here would make things easier for everyone to find! all of the art displayed below is free to use for the purposes of promoting vetted gfm's here on tumblr. no credit is needed unless specified (marked = ***). if you have any questions regarding how to craft a post using any of the art provided -> please do not hesitate to reach out to me! note: please press follow post as i will most likely need to update this masterlist from time to time.

some info is below the cut on how to best utilize this material. please read it in its entirety before using any artwork. thank you 🖤

learn how to make art for this project here:

---

this project has gained a lot of momentum and has shown very promising results. the level of engagement once art is attached to a vetted gfm increases significantly. you will see what i mean as i have linked example posts of how to best use these pieces to help families in need.

i currently have a list of over 20+ families that i am spotlighting in my own personal progress tracker (the list has gotten so long that i now need to make a second version to accommodate all the families trying to get in contact with me).

this art campaign boost is truly meant to be utilized by anyone. i would sincerely appreciate it if y'all could take some time and pick maybe 1-2 people from this list and use the art below to create your own signal boost posts on the families' behalf. as someone who is periodically tracking their progress- i know that donation rates have slowed for a number of them. i am one person and can only do so much on my own. the essence of this initiative is to get more people to mobilize as a collective. it will take everyone to get on board in order for these families to be able to reach their goals. that means spotlighting their accounts/campaigns periodically.

you need to keep up the momentum.

the individuals you are helping currently live in areas with minimal internet connection, meaning it is very difficult to spotlight themselves on their own. especially since this site is continuously suppressing/deleting their accounts. they need you to interact with their content. tumblr isn't like other social media sites. it's known for being very 'anti-algorithm' and it's common culture for many of us to not really care about our levels of engagement (i.e. follower count/amount of notes per post). it's very hard for your own content to "break" your inner circle of followers and gain traction if the topic of the post is not "popular" or "trending" these families are not operating on this site the same way you are. you may be using this platform as a means to "just vibe" but they are using it as a desperate attempt to raise essential funding to save their lives. the importance that their posts be elevated cannot be overstated. anyone who has ever created any sort of og content here knows how quickly a post can die out if no one interacts with it. this cannot happen with them.

tips for making your own signal boost post* (*for vetted campaigns):

-> make it easy to read + eye-catching: the problem i am seeing when you search many of these families' accounts is that their "tag" (username of their account) is full of the same types of posts (i.e. a generic response to their initial message to another person on tumblr) <- aka it is very easy for people to tune out which is the opposite of what we want to happen. creating your OWN posts in response to their asks allows the art to appear FIRST when people look up someone's account via tumblr's search bar, which will attract more attention to their accounts. it also forces people who are making these posts to actually sit down and read the stories they are sharing with the rest of their mutuals/lurkers alike -> include verification sources: the main reason people are searching for these accounts is b/c they are trying to see if it is okay to reblog/share their campaign with their own following. if you address this plainly and early on in your post that includes artwork -> people are more likely to interact -> tag the account you are promoting: please include the families' account as one of your #'s so it will appear when you search for their names on tumblr. also try @'ing their account in your post so it'll be easier for these families to find your work. some of them are incredibly new to the platform and may not be aware of all its features. something that you may find intuitive may not be as easily understood for these individuals. your role is to make them as easy as possible to find for others so they can gain more support. --- don't have time to type out a whole post for a family on their behalf? -> interact with one of theirs! attach something nice/helpful to their posts so it is more readily available for others to share. the same rules apply from above. as i said before, some of these accounts are brand spanking new and are not formatted in the same ways as others that may be more well-versed on how tumblr operates in terms of promoting their campaigns. (for example: even if the account has been vetted/verified by multiple trusted individuals- the owners of that account may not know to include that info in their posts about their campaign every single time they post. you can make their lives easier by including that info for them by reblogging one of their og posts and adding the necessary info on their behalf)

you can also find a more comprehensive list of vetted campaigns by el-shab-hussein/nabulsi here <- their list is now over 200+ with several campaigns that are "in the red" (very low in funding). please do not hesitate to try to spotlight anyone from this list as well!

el-shab-hussein also has a masterpost pinned here with additional campaigns (including those for other countries like sudan)

alright i've explained enough- time for the art!

artist: @rhq274 | @rhq2744 *** free to use, credit required meet raghad (read and share full post here) Hello, I am Raghad Qanou, a medical student from Gaza City. My people and I have been subjected to genocide for more than 230 days. My family and I have lived through various types of torture and inhumane conditions. This link is my only chance for me and my family to escape death and try to start over. This is not easy. But we are trying, and we would be happy to have you help save our lives and our future. instructions to utilize artwork: those who wish to share raghad's art MUST do ALL of the following: -> follow raghad on tumblr @rhq274 | @rhq2744 -> like + reblog one or more of her posts seen on her account that promotes her fundraiser (you may also include additional art shown below to help further boost her campaign; see example) once those actions detailed above are completed, you may use raghad's art to promote her campaign. *if you are utilizing this art for another campaign that is not raghad's -> you must also mention + link her fundraiser as well /// for those able: please consider donating to raghad's campaign here (vetted; no 221 on el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's sheet)

artist: me lol free to use, no credit required example

artist: @lampyri free to use, no credit required example

artist: @aria-ashryver free to use, no credit required example

artist: @monmonp0k free to use, credit not required- but if given, is appreciated example

artist: @juudaimes-true-form free to use, no credit required example

artist: @gaiuskamilah free to use, no credit required example

artist: @marnota free to use on all social media platforms (i.e. tumblr, insta, twitter, etc), no credit required example

artist: @marquainequeen free to use, no credit required example

artist: @palms-upturned free to use, no credit required example

artisit: @inkyswampbones free to use, no credit required example

#art campaign boost #not choices #got around to making a masterlist #im tired after typing all that #if there are typos- no there isnt lol #🍉#i'll add this post to my pin later #i think i got everyone but if i missed you just let me know!

99 notes · View notes

chnhyvng · 8 days

Text

stray kids and what nails they would pick for you || ✨🤍

bang chan

chan loves a good almond shape, (yes, he knows the name of the shape you always get because he’s just attentive like that), and when you asked him he was delighted and honored!! he knows what you like and what you don’t, so him being the perfect boyfriend he is—picked something that you would like and him as well. plus you look good with pink (really any color) and he loved his sweet girl in pink!! of course he paid for it, and even sent extra “just because🤍.”

lee know

lee know doesn’t really care about what kind of nails you get as long as you love them. you could show up with claws for nails and he would just look at them, smirk, and then proceed to fake meow like the cat man he is. however, when you asked him he read your message and didn’t respond for a good 10 minutes. you thought he had simply not bothered to answer and you were annoyed at him, but then he sent this picture along with the message “for my little witch✨.”

changbin

we all know changbin is the biggest girl’s girl that has ever girl’s girl’d. so of course he had pictures of nail inspo just sitting in his gallery with the thought of you in mind, just patiently waiting for the day you would ask for them. the day eventually came and he sent the picture in quite literally less than a minute, quickly followed by a notification about you getting $500–which was way more than what your nails cost and changbin knew that (of course he did research on nail prices). however, you didn’t pry and simply thanked him later on for his…generosity!

hyunjin

hyunjin is a man of luxury. versace, louis vuitton, gucci—you name it he’s been on the cover of most luxury brands. so, his taste will be accordingly, however sometimes he’s very laid-back and simple! this isn’t your first time asking your jinnie for nail recommendations, and he hasn’t given you any that you haven’t loved—so you ask him every time you go to the salon. he gives you the prettiest inspiration too, and when you come home he looks at your nails, gushes over them, and then secretly admires them with a hint of pride on his face when he thinks you aren’t looking.

han

han is a pretty laid-back and down-to-earth man, so he doesn’t go for anything too fancy or over the top, but he does want his baby to be slaying and her nails to exude silent luxury. he also wants it to be trendy and cute so that you fit in while also being unique! black is his favorite color so of course he picks something black, but yours are pink and white so he decided to incorporate both of your desires into one style!! he was anxious about whether or not you would like it, but was very relieved and happy when you actually got them and showed him!

felix

this man is all for cutesy and demure! felix loves to scroll on tiktok and see all the trends so he knows that hello kitty and coquette are both in style, plus you love sanrio so it’s a win-win situation!! you called him while you were already at the salon and he sensed that you were a bit stressed because you had no idea what you wanted, so he calmed you down with his sweet words and soothing voice. then after making sure you were alright, he put you on speaker while he searched for nail inspiration for you to show your nail tech. he loved how you gasped and immediately began gushing over the nails when he sent what he found and you vowed to eat all the sweet creations he would make that week as thank you (even though you would either way.)

seungmin

the second-youngest contemplated on whether or not he should joke around and send a picture of teeth nails, but he decided not to torture you at that moment because he thought of something better to do later. seungmin wasn’t the most knowledgeable about nails and he didn’t know what was best for you—but he did know your favorite color so that had to help right? the male didn’t even know what an acrylic was and you began to worry if your boyfriend was the best person to ask, however seungmin pulled through and managed to find nails that you actually loved and got the next time you went to the salon.

jeongin

jeongin knew exactly what was in style and he actually thought about getting a simple style like this because he liked it, but he decided to save it for next time because he had a photoshoot soon and he didn’t know how they would react to it. so, he sent you the same picture he had saved as inspiration for his own style and sent a crying emoji afterwards to show how upset he was that you both couldn’t match!! he knew that you were fine paying for your own nails and he groaned about spending money on you (which he still does anyways despite the act he put on), but he sent you money for lunch with your friends. he knew you were going to be out all afternoon so he also sent you a text saying that you should be safe so he won’t have to go to jail if anyone attempted to hurt you:)

thank you so much for reading and leave a note if you enjoyed!! also: follow me for more skz reactions/imagines/fics!!

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #kpop #kpop imagines #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #jeongin

108 notes · View notes

kodamaghost00 · 8 months

Note

Can you do 30 headcanons for Sundrop?

30 Sun/Sundrop Headcanons

———————————————————[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw,Fluff,Smut

It’s also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys! You are a Technician in these scenarios!

———————————————————

Let’s begin!

His favorite nickname for you is “Sunshine!” but he calls you every nickname that he can find.

He always talks super eccentric wich leads you to misunderstanding him often.

In the after hours of the Pizzaplex he pins all the drawings that kids made for him on the walls in his room.

He’ll randomly pick you up and treat you like a toddler, just to mess with you.

He’s usually not roaming free in the Pizzaplex but when he’s concerned about you he’ll storm out within minutes.

He’s a desperate dude. He would beg just to let him fuck you. Just drooling over you and your perfect figure praising you every minute.

He can handle various types of kids who are different than others. He knows ASL and has bells around his wrist so the blind kids hear him.

He learns the names and interests from kids who are regularly with him.

He has a lot of stamina. Like. A LOT. So he can go on for hours and hours.

His head spikes spin when he cums, but he always puts his head behind though, so he won’t hurt you accidentally. “F-Fuck sunshine~ This is amazing!”

He loves making puppet shows for the little ones! And sometimes he’ll ask you to join him to make them more human and interesting to look at.

When the kids leave he’s usually very alone. Cleaning the daycare or searching for you to accompany him.

He’s a fan of Karaoke but he doesn’t want people to hear his voice.

One time you came into the daycare in the after hours to search for sun. His monthly maintenance was due but he was nowhere to be found.

It’s weird since he’s always on time. You look through the whole daycare but he wasn’t there. So you go to his room and look over it. And there he is bawled up in the corner.

“Sun? What’s up dear?” you asked gently knowing that he needs you right now. “Sunshine?! Oh… I’m so so sorry that you have to see me this way again.” He said in a super sad tone while looking on the ground. “Don’t worry Sunny. You know you can tell me everything…” He looks up at you with hope.

“Oh… I… uhm… the parents were talking about me again.” He continued to tell you how the parents were talking bad about him. It broke your heart. You sat down beside him and hug his slim build. “You’re the best Sun. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.” You give him a reassuring smile and you guys hug for a long time.

His love language is Acts of Service. He appreciates everything you do for him, even if it’s something small like leaving a sticky note for him.

He apologizes a lot too. Even for stuff that isn’t in his power.

He likes dancing with you. No matter if it’s more partying or if it’s more of a slow dance. “Come here sunshine. Let’s enjoy this moment…”

He’s not only programmed to entertain children but also to educate them. He has a wide range of languages and can count up to 100.

His dick is basically a tentacle. It’s twisted with moons part wich makes it even better to play with.

He has ADHD and uses stimming toys to calm himself. His favorite are the fidget cubes. He also got really sad that fidget spinners didn’t trend anymore.

Sometimes he wishes to be only one animatronic instead of two. After all Moon gets to spend all night with you and he doesn’t.

Every time the younger kids are explaining new memes to him he doesn’t understand. “Oh! What you drawing there small one?? What’s that? A skibidi Toilette…? That sounds disturbing…” You pat him on the shoulder. “Yeah no one gets what they like about…. That.” You say with a slight disgust on your face.

He also wished he could be more comfortable. His metal build isn’t really good for comforting the kiddos. He asked you a bunch of times if you can change something against that but you can’t due to the strict guidelines for him.

He tries to get into your special interests. Asking a bunch of questions so you know he’s interested in your life.

He’d be a switch with a bottom preference. He loves getting touched by you. But he also loves seeing you desperate.

One time you asked him if he still loved you. That man looked at you with the most shocked expression ever and just hugged you.

He hugged you and said “Oh Y/N… my sunshine… you’re the best thing that ever happened to me! I love you with all my body, heart and soul!” You guys just stand there holding each other for a very long time

———————————————————

That’s also finished! I wanna send a huge shoutout and thanks to @millenniumproductions !! I’ll make sure to fulfill all your requests sooner or later! If you’re new here you can also leave a Follow and request! And once again thank you for reading!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

154 notes · View notes

777gojosgf · 10 months

Text

GOT LOVE-STRUCK WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD…

777GOJOSGF IS TYPING…

777gojosgf: reader x satoru gojo modern!au

IN WHERE ::

reader and satoru do the kiss trend that’s been going around on tiktok.

a/note: the kiss trend is where it starts off with y/n applying lipstick but it smudged, satoru wipes it away but when the camera is moving to him it shows that his face is planted with kisses. not proofread and it’s quite short, sorry!

also, slut! by taylor swift (tv) coded

HE WAS THE ONE who persuaded you to follow the trend alongside him. satoru disagreed with your hardly noticeable interest in social media and openly flaunting your relationship to random online users. he says he loves taking pictures and videos so he can always look back on them later and that he wants to show you off to the world.

and besides, he knows you can’t say no his annoying smile.

“are you sure you want to do this? lipstick will be all over your face.” searching through your makeup bags for a red lipstick, you asked from the bathroom. satoru approached and pressed himself up against the door frame. his dishevelled white hair had come down so nicely on his head, and he had a dorky smile on his face. "if i ever say no to you kissing me, sweetheart. kill me, please.”

you laughed at that and walked over, planting a kiss on his cheek. “you always know the right answer.” before moving back to find the lipstick you just couldn’t seem to find. you heard his footsteps behind you, and before you had realized it, he had thrown you over his shoulder. holding you in a tight hold you giggled but still protested, “put me down ‘toru.”

“sorry, you were taking way too long. and the lipstick— was right here.” he answered, pointing at the cursed lipstick being next to the sink. you groaned in defeat and reached with giddy hands for the lipstick. he had to bite back a laugh and handed you the lipstick before moving you guys to the bedroom.

he’d laid down beside you after carefully placing you on the bed. he was able to rest his head on your lap and observe you applying the red lipstick while using your other hand to hold a tiny mirror. this brought back memories of all the other occasions he had delighted in observing you apply makeup. he thought you were gorgeous with or without, of course, but it was kind of adorable to see how much you enjoyed getting ready. there was a lot going on, and it was fascinating that you knew how to use every product. he had previously offered to assist you, claiming to be an expert at applying mascara.

well, spoiler alert. he wasn’t.

but it was of course the thought that counts.

despite everyone else’s claims, you knew one thing for sure.

in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.

indeed, satoru made his typical boyish gestures. he wouldn’t be satoru if he hadn’t, but even so, he’s the warmest person you’ve ever met. he always knew how to take care of you; he would lift you when you were too exhausted to walk, offer you his shoes when your heels started to hurt, and remove your makeup when you got home from a difficult day at work.

you smirked, looking down at him with pursed lips. "now what should i do?" he pointed to his face and closed his eyes, flashing a grin. “now, you kiss me”

“alright,” you mumbled before planting a kiss on his forehead, slowly making your way down his face. though you purposely avoided his lips. he pouted at that and looked at you with those irresistible eyes of his. “patience is bliss, satoru.”

“yeah whatever,” he grumbled before lifting himself up and positioning himself with his back against the bed frame. he reached for your wrists and gently pulled you towards him, moving you onto his lap. your giggles filled the room and echoed down the hallway and satoru wouldn’t want it any other way. ever since you had entered his life, he had found a new light. someone to get up for everyday, to try and become the best version of himself because you deserved to be so loved.

though your personalities had somewhat been the opposite of each other, there was no denying that you guys were destined for each other. having grown up together, standing besides him all the time in high school, him being the one next to your seat in every class. where you went, he followed.

when you called, he would always be there.

something about the way that his entire face was filled with the print of your lips made you feel confident, he had seem even more handsome than usual. your confidence was shown when you teasingly made your way to his neck, earning a soft groan from him. “don’t be a tease, y/n.” his voice low, and the grin on your face widened. “it was your idea, was it not?” you commented innocently, but there was nothing innocent about the act.

he rolled his eyes dramatically at your smart remark.

once you finished kissing his face, he reached for his phone and opened up the app. your eyes widened at the 99+ notifications he had and you had come to the realization that your boyfriend was way more well known than you thought he was. something about that made you feel a bit jealous, as you were aware that 90% of his followers found him incredibly attractive. and there was no denying so. besides, it was out of his or your control so you tried not to make a big deal out of it.

but you were glad that it was satoru who came up with the idea to do the trend. it meant that he wanted to show you off and make it clear that he was taken.

or in his words, “locked 4 life.”

he started off the recording with you applying your lipstick, it being purposely smudged on one side. his thumb reached out to wipe away the lipstick, and as he did so, you turned the camera so that it would face him. his handsome face being filled with kisses, you smirked at that and leaned in to kiss him on the lips. a kiss he’s been waiting for the whole time getting ready.

after watching it a couple times— him commenting on how pretty you were— you were the one who clicked post and he turned off his phone.

“now,” he started, a mischievous grin on his face and you knew that it would be his time to get payback for you teasing him. effortlessly, he flipped you so that your back was against the soft mattress and he towered over you. your doe eyes followed his every move and your lips were parted slightly, he loved when you looked at him like that.

“the whole world knows that you’re mine. i guess i better prove it to you now too, princess.”

and so, your giggles reverberated throughout the space and corridor. you had filled his apartment —which once was empty and lifeless— with love and laughter. there were hints of you everywhere, memories haunting in every corner of every room.

he knew that the day you would become his wife, he would’ve made it in life.

346 notes · View notes

kpopfanfictrash · 2 years

Text

Love to Hate (Extra Scene III: Jungkook’s POV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Author’s Note: This scene takes place during Chapter 7 of Love to Hate and is told from Jungkook’s point of view. PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE STORY BEFORE READING THIS SCENE (otherwise there will be spoilers lol).

Rating: 18+

Warnings: semi-public sex, breast play, fingering, dirty talk (hypothetical cum play, possessiveness), spanking, multiple orgasms, somewhat rough sex

Word Count: 8,704

“If this trend were to continue, I’m not certain how we could keep up with production. This would obviously pose a problem for our shareholders, so let’s brainstorm solutions before the next quarterly call. Does that work for you, Mr. Jeon?”

A long, pregnant pause.

“Mr. Jeon?”

Beneath the table, Namjoon gives a not-so-subtle kick to Jungkook’s kneecap. Jerking upright, Jungkook glances around to cover his recent lapse. Based on Namjoon’s glare, his attempt must not pass muster.

“I – yes.” Jungkook nods, hoping he hasn’t agreed to something terrible. “That works for me. Thank you.”

The woman pauses, clearly unused to being thanked by the CEO. “Of course, Mr. Jeon,” she says, recovering quickly to take her seat.

Fingers tapping the acrylic table, Jungkook glances as covertly as he can at the clock. A wave of panic washes over him when he realizes the meeting has nearly ended since Jungkook doesn’t remember a single discussion. Unusual, for a man who insists on booking his own travel because he doesn’t trust anyone else to find the best deal.

It’s not like Jungkook to be distracted, or to not pay attention to detail. A swift glance at his notebook proves equally damning. Usually, Jungkook takes careful notes but today, the only thing written is the date at the header.

Subtly, Jungkook straightens. Forcing himself to concentrate, he listens to the rest of the updates. Someone from Info Security briefs Jungkook on a new phishing attack. A woman from Finance updates them on the search for a new travel vendor. Jungkook listens closely, responding when needed but can feel Namjoon’s gaze on his cheek the rest of the meeting.

Knowing his COO, Namjoon has some thoughts about Jungkook drifting off. It’s for this reason that Jungkook hangs back once the meeting has finished. Namjoon also stays, waiting until the last person files out before swiveling sideways, exhaling in a way which implies years of exhaustion.

“Tissue?” Jungkook offers blithely.

Namjoon fixes him with a look. “No, thanks. What’s going on?”

“I’m… not sure what you mean.”

Brows lifted, Namjoon pushes himself to stand. “Yes, you do.” Lifting his laptop, he walks around the table. “For weeks now, you’ve been distracted. Years of planning and here we are, in the home stretch but somehow, it feels like I’m alone. Tell me what’s going on – and don’t,” Namjoon adds, a note of warning to his voice, “say this is all in my head.”

Jungkook closes his mouth, about to say just that.

Sinking into his seat, Jungkook searches for a response because Namjoon is right. Something has been going on and Jungkook has been distracted. Ever since the dinner at Aleve, Jungkook hasn’t been himself. Realizing his fingers have resumed tapping the table, Jungkook forces himself to stop.

Two weeks have passed since he last spoke to you at Aleve. Two weeks of pretending neither of you cares about the other. Unless you really don’t care, and Jungkook is the only one who’s pretending.

Thoughts souring, Jungkook considers the possibility. Fighting the tide of memory is useless – as soon he thinks of your name, Jungkook disappears. He remembers the last time he saw you, entering Aleve with his father and Namjoon. Hearing your laughter from across the room, craning his neck only to find you with Liam Jessen. Jungkook’s worst enemy, smiling at you like you were the only person in the room.

Jungkook tried to recover after that, tried not to think about it – a plan swiftly dashed when he ran into you outside the bathroom. Cheeks hot, Jungkook once more relives that brutal interaction.

It doesn’t matter who you sleep with. I know you’ll call as soon as you realize they’re just as boring as every man before me.

Jungkook was jealous, but there’s no excuse for what he said. Your response was equally cutting, reducing whatever had been between you to sex. Jungkook should have pressed harder, but imposter syndrome stepped in and all he could do was agree.

Now, a voice in the back of his mind – which sounds suspiciously like Yoongi – whispers that Jungkook pushes people away to see if they’ll come back. Unfair, whispers that same voice. True relationships don’t keep score. You shouldn’t be guilted into admitting your feelings before Jungkook deigns to tell you his.

It’s no wonder you haven’t reached out, proving the second half of his statement incorrect. You haven’t felt the need to call him since Liam. Instead of lashing out, Jungkook should have just told you how he felt. Maybe then, he’d be seeing you tonight instead of facing yet another night alone in his apartment. Wondering if you’re by yourself or out there with Liam.

Swallowing hard, Jungkook pushes the thought away. Realizing his fingers have resumed their tapping, Jungkook lays his palm flat on the table. “I’m sorry,” he exhales and looks up. “I… know I’ve been distracted. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Concern knits Namjoon’s brow. “That’s not – I wasn’t trying to get you to apologize, man. I genuinely want to know what’s going on. Are you alright?”

These simple words dissolve the barrier between Jungkook’s mind and his mouth. Embarrassing, how fast genuine concern can make Jungkook break down. His father would have had something to say about it – which probably means Jungkook shouldn’t be embarrassed about the reaction.

“No,” he admits. “Everything isn’t okay – but it will be. Soon. I know I’ve been distracted, but I promise to do better.”

Namjoon looks at him wryly. “Who are they?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?”

Laughing to himself, Namjoon takes the seat beside him. “Whoever it is that has you in shambles,” he continues. “This conference room is dry, otherwise I’d offer you a stiff drink. Feels like we should imbibe if we have to talk about feelings.”

Jungkook can’t help but smile. “That obvious, huh?”

“Only to those who’ve been there before.”

Leaning back in his seat, Jungkook tilts his head. He and Namjoon have been friends for years, although their friendship began as a business relationship. Namjoon wasn’t around for the less savory parts of his life; the years when Jungkook was drunk more often than not and took nothing about this company seriously.

Other people remember though, and Jungkook has had to work to turn his image around. Even now, his father’s media headlines haunt his footsteps – although these have recently ceased since Jungkook became CEO. You’re a distraction to his work by any definition, drawing Jungkook’s attention away from the company. Especially so if Namjoon has noticed.

“Can I give you some advice?” Namjoon offers, steepling long fingers before him.

Jungkook lifts a brow. “If I said no, would that stop you?”

“Probably not.”

“Then, sure. Go ahead.”

Namjoon leans in. “Don’t let this fester.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is that’s been bothering you.” Namjoon lowers his hands. “Don’t let things linger – fix the situation before it’s too late. My mom always says not to go to bed angry and in this case, I agree with her.”

Jungkook considers. “When would you not agree with that statement?”

“If you’re both drunk and neither one of you are making any sense.”

“Huh.” He nods. “Valid.”

“Anyways,” Namjoon sighs. “I’ve been paying attention to you this week, and whatever’s going on hasn’t gotten any better. Rather than keep going, you should make a change.”

“A change to… what?”

“Hell, if I know.” Namjoon lifts a shoulder and lets it fall. “I only know the bare minimum of information about your situation.”

“Fair point.” Jungkook exhales, pushing a hand through his hair.

Shoving his chair back to stand, Namjoon adjusts his suit jacket. Scooping his laptop from the table, he heads for the door only to pause on the threshold, looking as though he’s debating whether to say something or not.

Evidently, saying the thing wins out and he straightens. “You know you can delegate, right?” Namjoon says, leveling Jungkook with a look. “Today’s meeting, for example. You probably don’t need to hear every update from every department. Let your CFO talk to Finance and tell you if something’s important.”

The furrow between Jungkook’s brows deepens. “You’re probably right,” he allows.

Truthfully, Jungkook is struggling to find his management style. His father ruled through fear and the occasional carrot. Jungkook wants to make his own mark on the company and have his employees work because they actually want to, but this is proving more difficult to achieve than he thought.

“Just a thought.” Namjoon shrugs, slapping the door before disappearing down the hall. Jungkook is left alone, the clock on the wall the only sound apart from his thoughts.

Exhaling lowly, he stares at his hands atop the acrylic table. On his right, the sun has gradually sunk towards the horizon. Today is Friday, meaning most of his staff has gone home by now. Their weekly report-out is usually the last meeting on people’s calendars. Jungkook rarely leaves before the sun sets, though. He uses his time in the evening to respond to his emails.

Namjoon is probably right about delegating. Afraid of being seen as an absentee leader, Jungkook has joined every meeting for every direct report since the Board voted him in as CEO. It’s probably time for him to relax the reins, or else be seen as a micromanager.

Releasing a breath, Jungkook pulls his notepad closer. His cell phone sits beside him on the table, stubbornly silent since the start of the meeting. Jungkook doesn’t bother to check if you’ve texted, since he already knows the answer.

Since Aleve, you’ve been quiet.

Things were awkward before then though if he’s being honest. When you called Jungkook the night prior and asked him to stay, he nearly jumped at the chance. Despite having a Board meeting the next day and mountains of paperwork to do – the moment you called, Jungkook came. The truth of the matter was he wouldn’t turn down any opportunity to see you, no matter the consequences.

Jungkook should’ve known then that he was in trouble, but he didn’t fully realize until the next day. When he awoke and saw your face limned by sunlight, Jungkook knew things had gone further than he intended.

He had feelings for you. Strong feelings. Feelings Jungkook had never experienced, and ones which put him in danger because they broke all your rules. This was also the moment panic set in – you’d been more than clear about what would happen if he broke a rule. Jungkook had fallen for the one person he’d promised not to – and so he ran away.

Later, he texted a casual thank you. Jungkook tried to pull back, tried to disguise his true feelings so you wouldn’t suspect things had changed. Somehow though, this only seemed to make things worse. The voice in his head whispers Jungkook did it on purpose – shut you down before you could tell him to go.

Eyes closed, Jungkook swivels in his chair. Namjoon is right. He should call you, but the thought of picking up the phone and putting his heart on the line seems insurmountable. It’s nearly six o clock on a Friday, anyways – more than likely, you’re out with your friends.

Jungkook’s throat tightens. Or possibly out on another date with Liam.

Pushing his chair back, Jungkook reaches for his notebook. Over a month has gone by since he ran into Liam at your fundraiser – it seems impossible for feelings to have developed in such a short time. Then again, Jungkook didn’t feel this way about you a month ago. Hell, he was in denial of his feelings up until your apartment.

Now that he knows though, it’s up to Jungkook to confess before it’s too late. Even if you are hooking up with Liam, that would be better than if you developed feelings for him. This depressing turn of thought is thankfully interrupted by Jungkook’s phone buzzing.

Withdrawing this, he hopes for your name only to be disappointed by the truncated line of text. Exhaling lowly, Jungkook swipes.

Dad: You need to attend the Y/L/N’s anniversary party tomorrow evening. Unexpected business out of town – will be gone until Monday. Sign my name in the card, thx [6:36 PM]

Frown deepening, Jungkook pockets his phone. Just like his father to expect him to drop everything and attend to the family business. If the Board vote on company strategy weren’t imminent, Jungkook would likely tell his father to go to hell.

There’s also the fact that your family name is in the text – Y/L/N. This party is being thrown by your parents, which means you might attend. Coming to a stop before his office, Jungkook is struck by the possibility this could work in his favor.

Rather than chase you down, he could show up at the party and see your reaction. Something to inform him whether his feelings are returned before placing it all on the line.

Jungkook knows that feelings shouldn’t be conditional. That if he wants to confess, he should just do it, but Jungkook manages to push the voice aside. Already building a plan for tomorrow, he strides into his office and lets the door shut.

All day long, Jungkook debates what time to arrive. Get there too soon, and he might scare you off. Arrive late enough and he could miss you entirely. You haven’t been shy about the feelings you hold for your parents, and Jungkook doubts you’ll stay long.

In the end, he exits his town car a half hour late, but Jungkook needn’t have worried: you’re nowhere to be found. Deflating slightly, Jungkook wanders inside and orders a drink from a bar. Turning to face the ballroom, he swirls his whiskey while scanning the floor.

The party is indistinguishable from any other society event, doing little to recommend it in Jungkook’s opinion. Pulling himself from the bar, Jungkook engages in small talk while making the rounds and keeping one eye on the door.

Nearly an hour passes, and Jungkook finds himself trapped in conversation with one of his father’s close friends. Laura something or other; Jungkook can’t recall her surname. Nodding while listening, Jungkook tunes Laura out while she prattles on about her new diamond mine.

“Have you been there?” Laura prompts, forcing him into the conversation.

“Hm?” Jungkook lifts a brow. “No, I’m afraid not.”

A risk, since he didn’t hear where Laura mentioned, but a negative answer discourages follow-up. Or so it would seem. With Laura though, this prompts a soliloquy about the benefits of Cannes in the fall. As soon as he considers it polite to do so, Jungkook excuses himself and heads once more for the bar.

He’s nearly made it when the crowd parts and time seems to slow as you enter the ballroom. Dressed in a gown of midnight blue, you throw your head back and laugh – and Jungkook’s gaze drifts sideways to land on Liam Jessen.

His feet turn to ice. Coming to a stop, Jungkook can’t help but stare at the sight of your arm intertwined with his. You look beautiful, but then again, you always do. Gown sweeping the floor, you’re nothing short of ethereal and seeing you on the arm of another man slices Jungkook’s chest open.

When you look at Liam and smile, the pounding of Jungkook’s heart drowns out all thought. Grasping ahold of himself, Jungkook spins around to stalk across the floor. He can’t see you like this. Can’t talk to you calmly when you’re here with Liam.

Dropping his glass on the bar counter, Jungkook asks for a whiskey and waits while it’s poured. Staring down at his hand, he regains control of his breathing.

You came here with Liam.

You came tonight with a date, and that date is Liam. Sluggishly, Jungkook tries to separate the two thoughts, but they continue to attract like opposing magnets. Discomfort prickles in the back of his mind, putting two and two together. Your rules resurface, unasked and unwanted.

Number one, no discussion of personal lives (broken several times over). Number two, always use protection and get tested monthly for STDs. Number three, that you’re not exclusive. Number four, that either of you are free to end things any time, and rule number five, that your parents can’t find out.

It’s the fifth rule which has Jungkook’s stomach in knots. He assumed you didn’t want to tell your parents because you’re estranged and dating anyone from their world would bring complications. Which makes sense, if Jungkook and you were just having sex. Complications are the antithesis of that type of thing.

For you not to have similar reservations about Liam means things between you are different. That possibly you think Liam is worth the hassle. Unable to contemplate any meaning beyond this, Jungkook’s thoughts curdle and sour.

The bartender finishes pouring, and Jungkook accepts this without comment to chug a third. Setting this back down, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of one hand. Exhaling, he considers the options before him.

You haven’t seen him, which means that Jungkook could leave. His father might be angry, but frankly, that’s the least of Jungkook’s concerns. The more Jungkook ponders, the more appealing this seems, and the more his resolve hardens.

Draining another third, Jungkook turns around and spots you across the room. You stand beside a different bar, smiling at something your brother just said. White-hot jealousy licks Jungkook’s stomach, seeing you introduce Liam to your family.

The rest of his drink disappears, and Jungkook places the empty glass on the counter, sliding the bartender a fifty. Adjusting his suit jacket, he skirts the edge of the room as he heads for the door.

Your face burns in his mind. Standing between your brother and Liam, you seemed almost happy. Buoyant. Without a care in the world. Exactly the opposite of how Jungkook feels now. Clearly, you haven’t been missing him during your time apart.

Forcing his expression to neutrality, Jungkook crosses the rest of the room. He’s nearly made it to the hallway when a man steps into his path.

“Jungkook!” Reaching for his hand, the man clasps this tightly. “What a surprise – fancy seeing you here instead of your father. Seems like the regime change is in full swing, eh?”

With great effort, Jungkook slows his stride. The man is Charles Smith – a valuable ally, and one of the few Fortune 500 companies willing to invest in clean energy. Namjoon has drafted numerous proposals for their companies working together, which means Jungkook can’t afford to alienate him at such a crucial time.

Forcing a smile, Jungkook comes to a stop. “Something like that,” he says smoothly, shaking his hand. “How are you this evening, Charles?”

“Oh, Chuck is fine. I’m swell,” he says, withdrawing his hand to swirl his gin. “The doctor keeps telling me not to drink, but we’ve all got to die sometime – right?”

“Right,” Jungkook agrees, though his gaze darts towards the hall.

Unfortunately, this means you’re forced in his path. You’ve left the bar and now stand beside your mother, your expression aggravated in a way Jungkook can understand. When your gaze locks with his, you go completely still.

Even if Jungkook didn’t know who your companion was, he’d know you were related. Something about your bearing, the confident way you stand screams familial relation. You probably wouldn’t like hearing that, but traits by themselves aren’t bad. It’s what you do with them that matters.

While your mother seems unimpressed by her surroundings, you look visibly frustrated. Jungkook isn’t sure why and probably shouldn’t care to find out. Your familial problems are none of his concern.

Turning around, Jungkook thanks Charles for his time before he moves on. Your worried face refuses to dissipate from mind though, despite his best efforts. Eventually, Jungkook exhales and turns – only to notice Liam is still with you. Feet pausing, Jungkook finds himself feeling foolish for the second time that night.

Grasping you by the arm, your mother returns you to their circle – completing the image of a picture-perfect family. Idiot, Jungkook curses, disappearing again. Foolish to not hear what you said, to ignore the many, many times you’ve placed boundaries between you.

Jungkook’s inner voice delights in his anguish, strengthened by the ache in his heart. Not good enough for your father, not good enough for Y/N, the voice muses. How can you hope for a serious relationship when you’ve never been in one before? Liam might be an ass, but at least he has ambition. He made something of himself, rather than spend so many years drowning in self-pity.

As cruel as the thought is, it’s not entirely wrong. Liam has more in common with you than Jungkook would like to admit – you’ve known from a young age what you wanted, just like Liam. Liam wasn’t born into wealth; his family doesn’t exist within the same social circle. It almost makes sense, the idea of you dating.

Liam betrayed Jungkook’s confidence once, but they were both young then. Naïve. Maybe Liam has changed since the internship – God knows, Jungkook has.

Returning his thoughts to present, Jungkook reaches the valet. Ultimately, you brought Liam to meet your parents and not Jungkook. Whether this means you have feelings for Liam or can’t see a future with Jungkook – either way, the result is the same.

Jungkook supposes he can’t blame you for that. Jeon Energy is the Goliath to your David. Until Jungkook’s proposal is approved by the Board, the direction of Jeon Energy remains the same. Dating him would go against everything you believe in. It isn’t as though Jungkook has let you in on his plans or allowed you to think better of him in any way.

While waiting for his car to arrive, Jungkook keeps both hands in his pockets. The fact that you brought Liam means Rule Number Four can’t be far behind. The rule which allows either of you to end things between you. Jungkook recalls how he scoffed at this rule, certain it wouldn’t be necessary for either one of you.

In his experience, interest rarely lasts longer than a month. Jungkook figured your spark would fizzle and die, that you’d gradually stop calling and there’d be no hard feelings. Now, he can’t help but wonder at how foolish he was.

Jungkook needs to end this before you can.

By ending things first, it’d allow Jungkook to keep some of his dignity. It would also give you an out, alleviating you from pressure of letting him down. If anything, Jungkook imagines you’ll feel some relief. This way, you don’t have to explain about Liam.

Flipping his keys, Jungkook is staring into the night when footsteps approach.

Turning his head, he watches the moment you enter the hall. A vision in blue, fabric drifting around your legs as you come to a stop. For a moment, Jungkook wonders if you’re here to see him before banishing the notion as dangerous.

“Hi,” you exhale, your voice carrying through the hall.

Brow furrowing, Jungkook wonders why you came. Maybe Liam is close behind, ready to leave with you in his car.

“Hi,” Jungkook exhales, his chest tight.

Glancing over his shoulder, you search for someone, and Jungkook’s confusion grows. Everyone else remains at the party. Distractedly, Jungkook wonders if you saw him leave and came to check on him. The thought of your pity makes his neck heat.

“Can we talk?” you ask at last, meeting his gaze.

Jungkook pauses, at war with himself. If he agrees, he’d be moving up the timeline of your conversation. Not to mention the fact that merely the sight of you loosens his resolve. If you were to talk now, who knows what he’d say.

“I…” Jungkook hesitates, certain he should say no. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Y/N.”

Something flares in your gaze. “I didn’t say it was a good idea. I said I wanted to talk.”

Jungkook is forced to press his lips together to keep from laughing. It’s just such a you thing to say that against his better judgement, Jungkook finds himself nodding. Despite knowing this will hurt more tomorrow, Jungkook gives in.

Taking him by the arm, you tug him down the hall. Jungkook follows closely behind, unceremoniously dragged while you find a suitable room. Pulling open a door, you shove Jungkook in, flicking the light switch to quickly follow suit.

Your dress settles around you, nose nearly pressed to his in the dim light of the closet. Jungkook’s heart pounds, overloud in such a small space. Your scent wraps around him, body and soul, pulling him in when he should run away. It muddies what he came here to tell you, causes him to forget that you’re breaking his heart.

Unable to breathe, Jungkook looks at the door. Then, at your ear. Anywhere but at your gaze, which can see right through him.

Eventually, the silence moves him to speak. “You wanted to talk?” Jungkook asks, careful to keep his tone neutral.

You blink in amazement. “That’s… all you have to say?”

Jungkook notices you’re holding his wrist at the same time you do. Dropping him as though burned, you take a step backwards and your spine hits the door. This rejection stings more than Jungkook would like to admit.

“Well, I was about to leave,” he says stiffly, and meets your gaze.

He wishes he hadn’t when your eyes narrow, full of fire. It’s unfair of you to look at him like that. Unfair to look at him at all when you came here with Liam and again, Jungkook wonders why you’re here.

“Fine, then,” you huff. “I’ll speak.”

Jungkook’s heart aches when he hears the clear hurt in your voice. As infuriating as tonight has been, Jungkook had every opportunity to say how he felt weeks ago. Hell, he could have called yesterday, but he didn’t. Instead, Jungkook showed up tonight and expected to be met with your praise.

Folding your arms across your chest, you fix Jungkook with a glare. “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” you exhale.

Jungkook hesitates, unsure how to respond. You came here tonight with Liam, so it doesn’t make sense for you to pull him aside for small talk. To chase him towards his car only to ask Jungkook how he’s been.

Forcing his expression to remain neutral, Jungkook searches for an answer that’s least embarrassing. Or incriminating.

“I’ve been out of town,” he says at last.

You study his face. “Business trip?”

“Yes. Amongst other things.”

It’s mostly true. Jungkook and Namjoon have been traveling across the country, securing their plans for the upcoming Board meeting. You don’t know anything about that though, so his answer remains vague.

“Seems awfully sudden,” you observe.

Realizing his jaw is clenched, Jungkook forces himself to relax. The fact that you’re here, mad at him when you came with Liam is beyond infuriating. “I can’t help but notice,” he says, voice dropping, “you didn’t text me either. Or did I miss your messages?”

Something in your expression falters, but you recover quickly to step closer. Breath held, Jungkook looks you up and down. Everything about your body language screams anger, but this can’t be right. You’ve been dating Liam for weeks, have introduced him to your parents which means a breakup with Jungkook can’t be far behind – right?

“No, you didn’t,” you admit.

Jungkook’s resolve hardens. “So, I have to assume you didn’t want to see me.”

His voice comes out calmer than he is though, and the irrationality of your discussion spurs a wave of uncertainty. You didn’t text Jungkook; he didn’t text you. Both of you ignored the other and now, here you are. That part makes sense, no matter how uncomfortable.

What Jungkook can’t explain is why you ran after him. Why you pulled him aside and wanted to talk. None of what you’re saying matters if you’re planning to end things – unless you’re not. A wild spark of hope catches, and Jungkook smothers it quickly.

“I was waiting,” you blurt out, incredulous. “After all the weirdness at the restaurant, I was waiting for you to reach out to me!”

Jungkook’s thoughts stutter, then resume. You wanted him to reach out. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that you moved on so quickly.

“What weirdness?”

“Oh, please.” You stifle an eye roll. “I ran into you on a date with Liam, and you acted strange.”

Jungkook’s entire face heats. “I mean, I do think it’s weird that you want to date Jessen,” he says, unable to stop himself. “He’s not a good guy.”

“Why not?” you demand. “You can’t just say that, and not explain.”

Jungkook hesitates, on the verge of explanation before he pulls back. It doesn’t matter. If Jungkook tells you about Liam, he’d have to explain everything – his mom, his dad and the whole, morbid past. There’s no point in sharing if you’re leaving tonight.

Something about this feels wrong, but Jungkook can’t put a finger on why.

“Why did you even come here?” you ask, your expression changing. “Why did you come to my parents’ party if you didn’t want to see me? If you really don’t care?”

I care, Jungkook wants to yell. Obviously, he cares but you were the one who walked in on someone else’s arm. The confession chokes in his throat, stillborn.

“I came because my dad asked me,” Jungkook says instead. “He couldn’t attend, so he sent me in his place. It would’ve been rude for one of us not to attend.”

Your jaw tightens. “Liar.”

Jungkook goes still. “Excuse me?”

Somehow, you move even closer. “I said, liar,” you repeat, chin tilted. “Your father didn’t ask you to come. You came here because you wanted to – why can’t you just admit that?”

Panic sparks, realizing you can see right through him. And still, Jungkook doesn’t understand why you’re pretending to care. Why you continue to push, trying to get Jungkook to say he cares when you’re the one leaving. Do you want him to beg? Would leaving be better if you left him humiliated?

Anger is easier to focus on than pain, and so Jungkook grasps it tight with both hands.

Something in your gaze falters. “I – right, okay,” you murmur, fumbling behind you for the door. “Got it. I just… assumed. I’ll go.”

Hearing your voice crack, Jungkook’s fury vanishes. No longer caring about the why, he focuses on the what and reaches out for your wrist. Your breath catches when his fingers close around your warm skin. Gently – so gently – Jungkook turns you around and presses you to the door.

Inhaling your scent, Jungkook crowds you against the wood. You stare back at him and Jungkook wonders what would’ve happened if he’d just called.

Feeling suddenly helpless, he drops the façade. “You’re right,” Jungkook admits, his voice hoarse. “I wanted to see you.”

Bending his head, he crushes your lips with his.

Your noise of surprise muffles, dissipating the moment your lips touch. Hands encircling his waist, you slowly trace the panes of his body. Jungkook loves the way you touch him – gentle and then, not gentle at all. Losing himself in your touch, Jungkook kisses you roughly.

When your hands tug his hair, Jungkook groans into your mouth. Memorizing the feel of your body with his, he shuts out the fear that this might be the last. Within minutes, the kiss has turned urgent, both of you searching for something unsaid. Smoothing a hand down your spine, Jungkook tugs you into his chest.

Half-hard since he entered the closet, Jungkook bites down on your lip to relish the soft noise you make. Slipping his hand beneath the strap of your dress, he bares your shoulder and cups your breast in his palm. Slowly, he teases your nipple with his thumb and listens to your breath hitch.

Head lowered, Jungkook closes his lips around the nipple and tugs. You groan, arching against him in eager invitation. Hand reaching, Jungkook fumbles with your zipper until it catches and pulls. Your dress pools on the ground, leaving you naked except for your heels and panties. Cock swelling at the visual, Jungkook bites lightly on your nipple through lace.

Reaching behind, you undo your bra and let this fall to the floor. With it, the last of Jungkook’s resolve slips away. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

Before you can respond, he lowers his head and sucks your breast again. Teasing you slowly, he relishes the eager rise and fall of your chest. Lowering his hand, he grasps your thigh to wrap firmly around him. Fingers searching, he skims the edge of your wetness and feels you tremble.

Returning to your lips, Jungkook crushes his mouth to yours. Now that you’ve kissed, he can’t seem to stop – especially when he knows this might be the last. Pouring everything he feels into a wordless gesture, Jungkook pulls you to him.

You whimper, shifting to better align your hips to his. Tightening his grip on your waist, Jungkook chuckles and keeps himself just beyond reach. Lazily trailing his fingers in circles, he angles his head to deepen the kiss.

“Jungkook,” you moan against his lips.

He can’t help but smile. “Yes?”

Eyes opening, your expression turns heady. “I need more.”

“More.” Casually, his fingers stroke higher. “Is that what you want from me? Want me to make you come, princess?”

There’s a bite to his words he can’t fully disguise. Jungkook is used to being wanted for his skills in bed. It’s never been something he begrudged before but then, he’s never wanted more from someone else and hearing you say it is like a knife to the chest.

You hesitate, gaze searching. “What do you want, Jungkook?”

Jungkook goes still, scanning your face. He wants more than this. He wants you and you, alone but that can’t possibly be what you mean.

“What… do I want?” he repeats.

“Yes.” You stare up at him, earnest. “You always ask me what I want in bed, but what do you want?”

In bed. Each word is followed by a dull thunk, falling into place alongside the weight of expectation. Obviously, you meant sex – anything more would be ludicrous. You came here tonight with someone else, after all.

Lowering his head, Jungkook skims your throat with his nose. He allows his teeth to graze skin, feeling you shudder and tightening his grip.

“This,” he murmurs, voice cracking in a rare moment of honesty. “Just this.”

Jungkook kisses you before you can see the desperation in his eyes. He backs you against the door, skimming the top of your panties with his rough fingers. You shudder against him, arching your chest and Jungkook takes pity.

Sliding a hand lower, he cups your center and hisses when he feels how wet you are. Slowly, he drags a finger forward – along the damp fabric. One palm on the door, Jungkook repeats this over and over, until you’re a wet, sopping mess.

“Jungkook,” you beg, meeting his gaze.

Jungkook lifts a brow. “Thighs together, princess.”

Hastening to obey, you trap his hand between your warm legs. Flexing his wrist, Jungkook idly strokes along the seam of your panties. A soft moan leaves your lips, head hitting the door while he touches you. Jungkook slowly slips his finger beneath the soft lace.

Brushing the hood of your clit, he savors how swollen you are. How responsive your body is to his touch. Gaze dropping, he takes in the frantic roll of your hips.

“Jungkook,” you moan, and his gaze jerks upward.

“Look at you,” he croons, moving closer. “Already a mess and I’ve barely touched you. Just sucked on those pretty tits like you needed. Tell me,” he says, voice hardening. “Tell me you needed it.”

Deep down, Jungkook knows this is wrong. It isn’t healthy to push things so far, to make you come on his hand when he knows this is over – and yet, he can’t bring himself to stop. If this is all Jungkook gets, he at least wants you to remember.

“I did,” you gasp. “I needed it so bad.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Because no one else gets you like this, huh?”

“N-no one,” you pant, a tremor to your voice.

“What was that?”

“No one but you, Jungkook,” you amend, and he grunts in approval.

“Turn around,” he demands and steps backwards.

You obey, hands pressed to the door as you lower your head. A shiver runs down Jungkook’s spine, seeing how much you trust him. Stepping closer, he eases your legs apart with one hand. Removing your panties, Jungkook lets them fall and presses his hips to your ass from behind.

“Did you bring a condom?” he murmurs, savoring your intake of breath.

Your head tips back a little. “I – no,” you blurt, eyes widening. “I didn’t think of it.”

Satisfaction seeps through his chest when Jungkook realizes you didn’t plan on sleeping with Liam. That’s something, at least. Something he can give you that no one else can.

Chuckling lowly, he caresses your ass – only to bring his palm down. “Didn’t think of it,” Jungkook breathes, dragging two fingers through your dripping sex. “Hm. I don’t believe that.”

“Don’t” – a sharp inhale – “believe what?”

Spanking you again, Jungkook presses you against the door. “I don’t think you forgot a condom,” he murmurs, low in your ear. “I think that you wanted my cum inside you. Is that right? Want me to fuck you raw?”

He pauses, waiting for your reaction before he continues. You let out a whimper, pressing your ass backwards in clear invitation. Fuck. Jungkook nearly swears out loud, consumed by the thought of what it would feel like. Sex without a condom has never been practical for him but now, Jungkook finds himself imagining.

Slowly, he circles your dripping entrance. Sliding his finger inside, Jungkook lets you adjust before he pulls out. “You’re such a dirty girl,” he exhales, adding a second finger.

Pushing backwards, your legs widen slightly to accommodate him. Jungkook slowly moves in and out, stretching your entrance.

“Tell me you don’t want that,” he murmurs. “Me, bending you over and fucking you hard in this closet. Filling you up to the brim with my cum.”

It’s hard for Jungkook to concentrate once the thought has been voiced. If he can’t have you the way he wants to, he can at least pretend. When you moan your approval, it only stokes his flames higher.

“I could do that right now,” Jungkook continues, dropping his voice. “Fuck you so hard, then cum inside this perfect pussy. When I’m done, I’ll tug your panties up, put on your dress and send you back out there. Except” – his voice catches – “I’ll know. And you’ll know that your sweet, little pussy has been used by me. Belongs to me. Is full of me.”

You groan, arching into him while his fingers fill you. The image is provocative, imagining his claim when you return to Liam. Even if you don’t want Jungkook like that, your body clearly does – and Jungkook knows he can satisfy you better than anyone. The thought of his cum dripping down your thigh when you return to your date brings more than a little dark satisfaction.

“Jungkook,” you pant.

“What, princess?” he murmurs, refocusing on the present.

“I – I’m close.”

“Already?” Grazing his teeth against your shoulder, Jungkook quickens his pace. “Let’s give you an orgasm to start, then.”

You whimper, thighs trembling as he pushes you over the edge. It’s not long before you gasp his name, spasming around Jungkook until he withdraws his fingers.

Exhaling slowly, you hang your head. Tugging down his zipper, Jungkook doesn’t waste any time. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a condom and rips this open. The tear of the packet makes you turn your head.

Dazed, your gaze latches onto the motion. “You… had a condom on you?”

Jungkook smirks and rolls this on. “You seemed to enjoy the idea of my cum inside you.”

Your eyes narrow, but you don’t disagree and Jungkook steps forward to press his cock to your core. Any trace of annoyance vanishes, replaced by desire as he drags his cock up and down. Jungkook nearly swears when he feels how wet you are, rubbing his head against your swollen clit.

Slowly, he leans forward to press you against the door. “Is this what you want?” Jungkook urges, reaching lower to grasp his length with one hand. Casually, he smacks your clit with his cock. “Want my cock inside this needy pussy?”

“God, yes,” you groan as you lower your head.

Hearing this is searing and suddenly, Jungkook doesn’t feel like playing games. “Good,” he agrees and thrusts forward.

You gasp when he enters, gaze focused on the place where he fills you. Jungkook nearly swears when he feels the slickness of your heat, the easy way you envelop him when he slides in. Pausing halfway, he waits until you adjust before pushing further. Slow, easy thrusts until you take his whole length.

Jungkook grunts when he bottoms out, hips pressed snugly against your ass. Refusing to move, he begins to tease your body. Sliding one hand up your torso to cup your full breast in his palm. Casual, he plays with your tit as he starts to thrust – pulling back out, only to slide slowly in.

He does this again and again, memorizing your body until your patience disappears. Taking over the rhythm, you set the pace and push back on his cock. Jungkook allows you to lead before deciding enough is enough and resuming control. Grasping your hip, he presses you to the door and feels you inhale.

Your body melts with his, showcasing your trust and Jungkook nearly breaks. Thrusting forward, he fills you with everything that you crave. You want him to fuck you? So be it. You want him to give you an orgasm? Jungkook will do it. He’ll give you everything you ask, even if it costs him himself.

Touching your body everywhere he can reach, Jungkook feels a building urgency. Playing with your clit, teasing your breast, turning your face sideways to lick up your throat. Savoring your taste, he pounds into your body and hopes against reason you’ll remember tonight.

Based on the way your body trembles, the prospect is promising. Jungkook knows that he’s big. It’s something he’s heard before, but you take him so easily and without complaint. He knows you enjoy the sensation, that you appreciate the feeling of too-fullness he gives. The thought makes him even harder, his cock throbbing with each punishing thrust into your slick heat.

Sliding one palm underneath your knee, Jungkook opens you further and fully lets go. He feels your body constrict, fluttering around him to let him know you’re close.

“That’s it,” he grunts, gripping your jaw to turn your face to his. “Is this what you want? Want me to make you come?”

Silently, he begs you with his eyes to say something different. That you want more than sex, but nothing in your expression seems to understand.

“Yes,” you gasp, eyelashes fluttering. “Yes.”

Pressing his mouth to yours, Jungkook claims you when you come apart. You squeeze him so tightly, he wonders if you somehow know this might be the last time. Forcing himself to continue until your final wave, Jungkook finally comes in a heated shudder.

He stays there for a moment, breath rising and falling against your bare skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jungkook imagines briefly this won’t be the end. That he can leave this closet, walk you back to your family and – here, stops the daydream because you came here with Liam.

Slowly, Jungkook withdraws and ties the condom in a knot. Clearing his throat, he fumbles for words while glancing around the closet.

This is the last time. It has to be the last since Jungkook can’t continue to break himself into pieces. Can’t continue to fuck you and send you home to him.

Quietly, you adjust the strap of your dress. Jungkook keeps his hands still, itching to help but convincing himself not to. Every part of his body screams at him to stay, to do something – say something – but he forces himself to stay.

Tucking himself into his pants, Jungkook pulls up the zipper. He feels the weight of your gaze on his cheek, uncertain. When he finally meets your eyes, Jungkook forces his expression to harden. After a moment, he looks past – towards the door.

Something in your posture stiffens. “Jungkook,” you say, sounding wary. “Why are you here?”

The answer rises to his lips, but Jungkook stamps it back down. He came to apologize. To tell you how he felt but all possibilities ended the moment you entered with Liam.

“Are you dating Liam?” Jungkook asks, the words slipping past. Cursing himself for the sudden lapse, he tries not to notice the way you react.

“I… what?”

Jungkook feels his lips tighten. “Are you dating Liam Jessen?”

“We…” You blink, hesitating a moment. “We’ve been on a few dates.”

Neither a yes nor a no, but either way, the words are enough to sink his last hope. Jungkook’s heart drops, and he nods.

Only a few dates is both good and bad. It’s good that the number is small – bad that despite this, you wanted Liam to meet your family. Swallowing hard, Jungkook tastes the scorched earth of his anger. He concentrates on this rather than on sorrow – easier to face you with vitriol in his heart.

Gaze flickering, you step closer. “Jungkook, I –”

“This should probably be the last time we do this, right?”

You freeze, the heat from your body tangible. The look on your face is shock, clear and uncalculated, and Jungkook’s anger swells in response. You have no right to look at him that way – as though he were the villain breaking your heart.

“You…” Dazed, you shake your head. “We what?”

“You and Liam are together, right?” Jungkook asks, the words coming out sharp.

“Together isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Then what word would you use?” His words bleed with frustration, and Jungkook isn’t sure what he’s searching for.

Except that’s not true because he does know. If you said you wanted him, Jungkook would end this right now. He’d say that he wants you, and that he wants things to change. Even while thinking this though, Jungkook knows it’s unfair. He can’t expect you to put your heart on the line when he’s not willing to do the same.

Either way, you say nothing and slowly, Jungkook’s frustration vanishes. Any answer would be preferred to this punishing silence.

“Thought so,” he breathes, grasping for straws. “Wasn’t that part of the rules? We’d fuck until you found someone else to date?”

You recoil slightly, and it takes all Jungkook’s willpower to keep himself still. It’s better this way, he reasons. Better for you to hate him now than peer beneath the surface and see how much he’s hurting.

“That was a long time ago,” you counter. “And that’s not everything I said to you.”

Jungkook suppresses his wince because he knows. He knows things have changed since the night you gave your rules. Remembers with perfect clarity standing in your kitchen and hearing you say Jungkook’s mom would be proud.

He remembers entering your body later that night, cupping your face with both hands to brush his lips against yours. Jungkook knows things have changed and still, he pushes you away because it seems better – safer – than you pushing him first.

“You’re right,” he says, slipping both hands in his pockets. “You also implied things could end if I caught an STD.”

Your brow furrows. “Jungkook,” you say, reaching for him. “Just stop. Let’s –”

“I have feelings for someone,” he blurts.

At this, your hand freezes. Jungkook wishes you would touch, aches for the brush of your skin but forces himself to stay silent. It’s too late for reconciliation – he can tell by the flashes of emotion chasing each other across your face.

Shock, confusion, and where he expects anger, Jungkook finds something far worse – hurt.

“Do… I know her?”

Jungkook’s heart cracks down the middle. He can’t possibly say that you are her. If he did, you’d be forced to choose between him and Liam, and Jungkook already knows how that’d go. Everyone chooses someone else in the end.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says at last.

You stare at him another moment, causing Jungkook to wonder if you see through him. Then, your expression crumples and you withdraw your hand.

“Right,” you whisper.

Jungkook’s resolve falters. “I just… don’t want to drag this out,” he says, and even to his ears, the words sound weak. “I think it would be better to end things now. Before someone gets hurt.”

The words are nearly cause for laughter because it’s much too late for that.

“Right,” you exhale. “Is that why you came here tonight?”

When Jungkook pauses, disappointment settles over your features.

“Well, good,” you say, lifting your chin. “Okay. We said we’d hook up as long as it made sense. If it doesn’t make sense, we should end it.”

Something jerks in his stomach. “Y/N…”

A bitter laugh escapes you, reaching backwards. “Don’t Y/N me.”

“I get that you’re upset, but –”

“Upset?” Your entire body freezes, fury limning your eyes. “I’m not upset, Jungkook – I’m pissed. You avoided me for weeks just to show up at my parents’ party, fuck me in a closet and end this? Which – oh my god,” you say, something like horror crossing your face. “We had sex, Jungkook. What would the woman you supposedly like have to say about that?”

Jungkook’s chest seizes, making breathing difficult. Everything you say is true and already, he can tell he’s going to regret this.

“She’d hate it,” he admits, soft.

You pause, brow furrowing. “Well, okay. As long as you… agree with me?”

Jungkook can only stare at you, helpless. “This is for the best, Y/N. I know that it is. You have Liam, and I – well, I made a mistake coming here. I shouldn’t have followed you in here. Or kissed you. I –”

“That’s enough,” you snap.

Your chest rises and falls, anger barely restrained when Jungkook falls silent. He knows he crossed a line, and truthfully, he regrets nothing except how things are ending. And maybe the way he left your place that one morning.

“I really am sorry,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, well.” You take a deep breath, reaching behind you. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, right? We were casual. Only sex. And now we’re nothing.”

It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t thought before, but your words skewer him in a way he didn’t think possible. Light from the hall floods the closet when you leave, striping the floor with Jungkook’s own shadow.

He allows you to go, knowing it’s for the best as he drags a hand down his face. Exhaling deeply, Jungkook tries to suppress the tears pricking his eyelids.

Logic which once seemed simple now seems indecipherable. Jungkook thought ending things would be cleaner but now, he’s not sure. Did you really want Liam to meet your parents, or did it happen by chance? More importantly – were you planning to end things with Jungkook?

A sliver of uncertainty enters his thoughts, but Jungkook forces himself to move on. There’s no point in wondering what-if. You two are over. He won’t see you again.

The enormity of this crashes over him and suddenly, it’s hard for Jungkook to breathe. He forces himself to inhale, taking slow, shallow breaths until the feeling passes. Eventually, Jungkook opens the closet door and steps into the hall.

Most of the walk to the car is a blur, only sharpening once he settles into the driver’s seat. Clutching the steering wheel with both hands, Jungkook stares at his knuckles. If you weren’t planning on ending things tonight, that would mean Jungkook has turned into the very person he fears.

Cold, blind, and ultimately – hopeless.

#bangtanarmynet #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook series #bts series

622 notes · View notes

mtchee · 4 months

Text

Boy's Like You - [Iwaizumi Hajime] GN

blurb:

a socially anxious new transfer fitting in with the rest. Trending accessories, makeup looks, the latest lingo, and everything else it takes to blend in with the masses. And everyone is just head over heels for the Seijoh boy's volleyball pretty boy setter! So, why wouldn't you be? Oh, right. Because his best friend's actually way hotter. And playing pretend with everyone else has been getting a little difficult recently...

cw: not edited, sfw, fluff, mild social anxiety, fear of social isolation, fear of not fitting in, classic kabedon, kissing, second-person-pov, pretty sure i wrote this two years ago, my writing has changed drastically from this but the idea was too cute so here :)

| masterlist | haikyuu collection |

[4.7k words]

Try, try, try, To follow the rules~ I break everyone of them with boys like you.

Summer rolls in sooner than anyone remembered—the sun beams brighter than before, flowers holding out under the heat, the brush taking advantage of the weather to grow in every odd nook and cranny it can reach.

"[name]!" Yumi, your strawberry haired friend, squeals as you meet outside the gymnasium alongside the ever growing crowd of giddy female students, "quick—QUICK! We gotta snag the seats at the front before anyone else takes them!"

Not giving her soft-spoken friend anytime to reply, she links your arms together and uses her free elbow to make a pathway through the crowd.

You yelp and use your bookbag to shield yourself from any stray flying limbs.

Somehow managing to get through, you find yourselves smack dab in the front bleachers of the gymnasium, meeting with another friend of yours.

"Took you long enough," Tika, the bronze toned girl greets briefly, pulling your bookbag towards her and sandwiching the you between the two of them.

"Sorry, but the crowd was wild," Yumi laughs before squealing, fixing her bouncy curls at the sight of the Aoba Johsai boys volleyball team leaving the locker rooms, "omigod OIKAWAAAA~!"

Her voice crescendos into a higher pitch, though it was almost drowned out by the squeals of the other girls surrounding them.

You wince before reluctantly dropping your bag and feigning enthusiasm, cheering for the infamous captain as well.

You jump as Tika embraces you from the side excitedly, "Isn't he just the coolest!?" You nod rapidly, fighting for breath at the girl's tight grip.

Your eardrums almost burst as the screams grow louder, the pretty boy setter having blown a kiss towards the bleachers.

You fight the urge to shrink back at the others' aggressiveness, eyes searching for the famed male before slowly drawing to a stop at the sight of another.

Iwaizumi Hajime. Aoba Johsai's male volleyball ace.

The pretty boy setter's best friend.

Unbeknownst to you, your face warms at the sight of him, tuning out the squeals of those surrounding you. Your heart jumps, muting a squeak as he uses his shirt to wipe away a bead of sweat on his forehead.

You swear you'd be the only one in the crowd pinning after him instead of the captain.

"..ame].. name]!.. [name]!" You're quite violently shaken out of your thoughts, "DID YOU SEE HIS SERVE!?" Yumi jumps up and down giddily, "he winked at us, he totally winked at us!"

You blink, "W-wait, what?"

"Hell yeah he did!" Tika fist pumps, "hello, are you blind? Oikawa totally just looked at us right now! Weren't you watching?" She gives you an incredulous look.

"Oh, yeah!" A wavy smile plasters itself on your lips, "he's... totally into us, right?"

"God I hope so." Yumi laughs at Tika's brashness, you following along half-heartedly as your eyes drift to the dark haired ace practicing on court.

"Get out of my head, get out of my head, get out of my head—" Our dearest protagonist paces back and forth in front of the mirror in the room, nipping annoyingly at the nail on your thumb before dropping onto your bed, cradling your head dramatically, "why can't I get him out of my head?!"

This man was going to ruin it for you! You'v had a hard enough time at school as it is! How the hell were you suppose to deal with this?

You aren't suppose to like him--you weren't planning on liking anyone really. Being a transfer halfway through the year was hard as it was; everyone already had their set friend groups and most clubs were already full. So, what better way to fit in than to follow everyone else?

So that's exactly what you've done.

You styled your hair when it was in fashion, you wore glittery (albeit sometimes off putting) jewelry when it became a trend, and you wore your cardigan a certain way when you saw others were doing it.

In this, you made quick friends with Yumi and Tika, who were honestly already the friendliest people you've ever met.

Although Yumi adored pretty things, she never let anything touch her hair--and even though Tika had fun messing around with fashion, she never let a certain style define her.

Over a short amount of time, you learnt that you could be a bit more yourself with these two, and they loved you nonetheless.

But fearing they would have nothing in common (which would lead to them abandoning you, and laughing at you, and humiliating you--and totally not just you overthinking things), you forced herself to like the same guy everyone liked.

At first, there wasn't a hitch. But as time went on, it got more difficult. Because not only did you never like him in the first place, but you began to find yourself falling for his broad shouldered best friend—who, coincidentally, was also one of the first people you met when you had transferred.

Being in the same class, he had been tasked with giving you a tour and showing you the ropes. At first glance, you were terrified. Big school, big change, (big hot guy curtly leading you around everywhere...) it was a nightmare.

But then as you got to know him, you realized that it wasn't all too big and scary. Sure, he was--but he was also patient (at least with you) and reliable. He had an intimidating presence, which overtime, developed into a feeling of security for you. He was strong, but gentle, and practical too. In other words...

Boyfriend material.

And totally your type.

and it absolutely doesn't hurt that he's a total hottie too yes that's a bonus

"Oohh," You huff out, dragging your hands down your face, "what am I going to do...?"

Ring! Ring!

Your flurry of thoughts are broken by the sound of your phone, the screen lit up with the name of a certain pitchy-voiced friend, followed by a plethora of flower emojis along with a panda bear.

"MILK BREAD!" Picking up the phone, you reel back at the sound of Yumi's shrill shriek.

"What?"

"Milk. Bread. [name], his favourite food is MILK BREAD--"

"Milk bread? I thought it was that tofu dish-" You glance at the latest volleyball magazine sitting idly on your blankets, pages open and facing down.

You pick it up, cutting yourself off mid-sentence as you realize you found yourself looking at one of the pages containing information on Aoba Johsai's male team members, more specifically, Iwaizumi.

"A-Ah!" Your eyes widen, face hot despite being the only one to witness your embarassment as you quickly flick to the pages dedicated to Oikawa Tooru instead.

His section took up two full pages, the media obviously biased.

"Tofu..? Isn't that that other guy's—"

"AHAHAHA," You cut Yumi off with nervous laughter, "MILK BREAD! I-I see!"

"YES!" You let out a silent sigh of relief at your friend's easy distraction, "isn't he just the cutest? Oh! I know! (Y/N), we should totally make him some! I could give him some sugar treats too to boost his energy!"

You give a confused hum, "Make it?"

"Yeah!" Yumi giggles on the other end of the phone, "it can be a joint effort! You can bake, right? You could make the milk bread, and Tika and I could try work something out with the sweets." She lets out a gasp, "We could give it to him at his next game!"

You pause before breaking into a sweat. At his next game? You want to fit in, but you don't actually want to be noticed by him. And then there was a chance Iwaizumi would see and oh dear god—

"U-Uh, how about we give it to him sometime during training instead? That way we have more of a chance to... catch him alone! Yeah, there will probably a heap of others wanting to give stuff to him before his big game, so..."

Yumi seems to fumble with her phone momentarily, "Oh, you're SO right! Why didn't I think of that? Thank god we have you here. We should give it to him on Tuesday! He doesn't have practice then, but we could catch up with him after school instead!"

"Sure," You nod to yourself, "we can do that."

"YOSH!" Yumi celebrates, "let's all talk about this together tomorrow. I still need to call Tika about it."

"Isn't she at basketball practice?"

"Ah, right. Oh well, we'll just tell her tomorrow then. See you at school, cutie!"

You huff out a laugh, "See you at school..!"

Just as planned, you and the other two hurried out of class on Tuesday to wait near the school gates for the infamous volleyball captain, having worked hard over the weekend to make his special treats.

Not actually wanting to try get on the setter's radar of fangirls, you handed off the little bag of milk bread to Tika to hang onto with the excuse you weren't feeling too good.

Your plan was foiled when Yumi dragged you back, grumbling about your flighty nerves. "Damnit, Yumi..." You mutter under your breath, struggling to unhook your arm from her sudden goddamn gorilla strength.

"This is our only chance to really get noticed by him!" Yumi yanks you closer with a pretty pout, "plus, you worked hard on these..."

"Look! Here he comes now!" Tika points towards Oikawa's figure, accompanied by another, "eh? who's he with?"

"Oh, that's just Iwaizumi," Yumi brushes off, tightening her grip on you and her little gift bag in excitement, "Oikawa-kun~!"

"Wait, Iwaizumi?" You perk up at the name before breaking out into a sweat, straightening up in alarm as the duo approach.

'I can't let him see me giving this to Oikawa! He'll get the wrong idea! But, then again, if I want people to think I like Oikawa... would I even have a chance with him anyway? Does he even remember me?'

"Yaho~" Oikawa greets with a wink, "is there something you need?" He steps closer whereas Iwaizumi stops a few feet away, arms crossed boredly. You shy behind your two bolder friends who happily bask in his attention.

Your eyes glance towards the male's darker haired companion who waits impatiently, looking off in the distance in disinterest. Your mind drifts as you tunes out her friends' conversation, eyeing the volleyball ace fondly.

'It's been a while since I talked to him... ...maybe I should say hi?'

Your eyes slowly drawl down his figure, swallowing in growing fluster at the outward curve of his muscular thighs and the bend in his toned waist. You panic.

'Oh... oh my god I'm a creep--'

"Oh? And who's this behind you two?" Oikawa's curious peek towards you causes you to freeze. You take in a sharp breath as your friends move out of the way and pull you forwards.

"This is [name], they're a bit nervous talking to you." Yumi introduces, not noticing her friend's face warming in embarrassment, "[name]'s the one who made the milk bread!"

Your eyes widen as you sees Iwaizumi look over at the sound of your name. He tilts his head before stepping forwards.

'Oh no. Oh no oh no—'

"Did you now?" Oikawa gives a closed eyed grin, "well, I just have to try it since you've worked so hard on it!" He hums at your still silence, "my, you are a shy one, aren't you? That's alright. Rather adorable if I say so myself~"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!" Yumi squeals, grip tightening on your arm, "did you hear that, [name]?" Her voice is way too loud for someone virtually phased into her side.

Tika laughs her signature closed eyed laugh, crows feet crinkling at her eyes when she gazes fondly at her shier companion, "I couldn't agree more on that one. [name] really does their best, but they're too scared to get any attention for it."

"Tika...!" You warn quietly, heart racing as Iwaizumi nears. You could hear all the bloos rushing to your head.

"Oh?" The chestnut haired setter leans forwards teasingly, "so you do speak." He smiles at you charmingly, face leering close to yours. You lean back with a sharp breath, startled at the sudden proximity.

"I-I just... uh.."

"Oi, shittykawa." Your stomach drops at the sound of the familiar voice, "stop bothering them. You've wasted enough of their time already."

"Psh," The setter huffs playfully, "you're no fun, Iwa-chan." He yelps, barely dodging a hit from his friend.

"Ah, hello, Iwaizumi-san!"

"Hi, Iwaizumi-san."

"I-Iwaizumi-san!" You greet quickly, eyes averted from his figure.

You don't deserve to look at him after oogling him not so respectfully earlier.

"[name]-san," He nods towards you with a light smile, "how have you been recently? Is the classwork alright?"

"Yes! Everything is.. fine. T-Thank you for asking."

He hums, satisfied with your response before turning to Oikawa with a sudden scowl, "Come on, trashykawa. Otherwise I'm leaving you behind." The spiky haired student glances towards you one last time, a peculiar look flashing in his eyes before he turns and walks away.

"Don't leave me!" The setter pouts, "sorry, we'll catch up more next time, hm? See you later~" He sends the trio a wink and a smile before chasing after his friend who's already abandoned him past the gates, "and thanks for the milk bread, [name]-chan!"

Your nose twitches slightly.

You don't quite like how familiar he addresses you already.

From that day forward, You were deemed as their lucky charm to being noticed by Oikawa, much to your dismay. Every now and then, whenever they had the chance, Yumi and Tika would more often than not drag you out of class as soon as they could in hopes of catching Oikawa before he left for afterschool practice, and more often than not--succeeding.

This only caused more of a blunder for you though. Since you were in the same class as Iwaizumi, not only did simply being in the same room as him distract you, but whenever you were pulled out of class for the volleyball captain, he was often witness to it. Usually sporting a rather prominent frown.

It seemed like every time you were forced to meet with Oikawa, Iwaizumi was also there. You don't know whether to feel humiliated or relieved.

On one hand, this solidified your alibi in liking the pretty boy setter, but on the other, you were coming into contact with your real crush way too often.

Recently, you'd managed to find a good few excuses to get out of looking for Oikawa, and no longer attended many of their practices to avoid the crowd of fans. But this lead to you sticking behind after class rather than leaving immediately—meaning you were left behind with Iwaizumi.

And a few other stray students, but they didn't matter.

Being left alone, he always approached you before he left for practice, usually just a quick check in on how you've settled.

But in recent times, your conversations lasted a little longer than the usual "how are things going?" and stretched over to your interests, likes and dislikes, and eventually, anything that came to mind.

"Hey, [name]," Iwaizumi stops by your desk with a soft smile.

"Iwaizumi, hello!" You look up at him with a sheepish grin, picking up your bookbag, "um, practice today?"

The male grunts in affirmation, "Yeah, we've got a game on Saturday," he swipes your bag from you (dodging your poor attempts to snag it back) and waits for you by the door before you could head down the hallway together, "will, uh... will I see you there?"

"Mm, yeah, probably," You shrug, "Yumi and Tika'll make sure I go. I've got to make some milk bread for Oikawa again." Iwaizumi's eyes drop to his feet with a frown, his tone flat.

"Oikawa, huh?"

You glance at him nervously from the corner of your eye, noticing his sudden change in demeanor, "M-Mmm. Uh, Yumi asked me to." You spy his frown softening in time with a tired sigh.

"She asked you to?"

"Yeah. Tika's making him some sort of iced tea too, I think."

"Hm." Iwaizumi thinks to himself for a bit, leaving an odd silence between you momentarily. He slows his pace, eventually coming to a stop in the empty school corridor. You stop a little ways ahead of him, noting the thoughtful look on his face.

"Iwaizumi?"

"Hajime."

"Bless you."

He rolls his eyes before repeating himself.

"Hajime," The thought filled glaze in his eyes disappears when he looks at you, a faint smirk on his lips at the sight of your expectant expression, "call me Hajime."

You blink, '...oh. That's what he said.'

'OH MY GOD--DID I JUST SAY BLESS YOU???'

"Go, go, go! Go, Seijoh!"

The court reverberates the cheers from the bleachers, encouraging the team warming up below.

"OIKAWA-SENPAIIIIIIIIIII!" Yet somehow the fangirl screams are louder.

"Over here, Oikawa-san!"

"Oikawa~! I believe in you!"

"Oikawa-san, fighting!"

They only grow louder as the Captain blows them a kiss. He chuckles to himself as he sets off to the side of the court for a drink before continuing his stretch.

"Oi, trashykawa," Iwaizumi stands up from fixing his knee brace, "tell them to shut it, would you? It's giving the rest of us a headache-"

"Oikawa-san!" He's cut off by two voices calling for said male by the court entrance. Turning around, they see a familiar trio waving him over. Iwaizumi purses his lips at the sight of you there with a little gift bag in hand. No doubt it's for the setter.

"Ah, give me a minute, Iwa-chan," Oikawa grins at him, "I've got a few other fans to talk to first~." Iwaizumi watches him walk off with a frown, features darkening at how you shy away from his friend with in a fluster.

He takes in a deep breath before sighing, a solemn look of acceptance on his face as he glances at them one more time, seeing Yumi and Tika giggling happily before rushing away to the stands, waving goodbye. He furrows his brow as their quieter friend stays behind, Oikawa leaning in close with a teasing smile.

Unable to keep watching, he huffs in frustration and stands up from the bench, resuming his stretching on court.

"Iwa-chan~ Oh, Iwa-chaaaan!"

"What?" Oikawa pouts at his friend's dismissal.

"Don't be mean, Iwa-chan, come here!"

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at his insistence, "What do you wa—hey!" He reels back as Oikawa thrusts a small gift bag in his face.

"Lookie here! Don't you want it~?"

He scrunches his nose in distaste, "I don't want your stuff, shittykawa."

"It's a good thing it isn't mine then~," Oikawa drawls out, "I was given specific instructions to hand it to you." He grins as his words peak Iwaizumi's curiosity, "seems to me you've got yourself a shy little fan, Iwa-chan."

The ace stares at him for a bit, silently debating whether or not to believe him before grabbing the bag dangling in front of him. His face remains expressionless as he opens it until he reads the little note resting inside of it, along with a few of his favourite sweets—all homemade.

'Something to give you a little more energy, just in case! Good luck, you've got this!'

His heart thuds in his chest and he looks up, eyes catching onto the remaining figure half hidden behind the doorway. You give him a sheepish wave, having not reacted in time to hide, before quickly making your way to the stands. A small smile rests upon his lips at the sight of you, and Oikawa's grin widens.

After finding out about his dear friend Iwa-chan's crush on his supposed 'fangirl,' Oikawa took it upon himself to try getting you together.

At first, he tried befriending you, only to find you pushing him away. Then, he tried finding excuses to have the two of you see each other, but became rather confused as he found you more often than not trying to avoid Iwaizumi.

It was apparent to him that you weren't ignoring him by any means, but you would, however, scurry away from him on every other occasion. And to make it even more confusing, he spotted you amongst the crowd with his fangirls, along with your friends.

So what else could he do other than snoop around a bit?

After bugging his friend, he found out that you met since you were a transfer in his class, and that you had a bit of a fear of sticking out. So he dug a little deeper.

With ease he managed to approach Yumi and Tika, and oh so inconspicuously managed to bring up the topic of their friend. You.

"[name]'s nice," Tika had told him, "they're pretty on top of their studies; at least I think so. [name] helps me out a lot and works around my schedule to help me since I've got basketball practice."

"Oh, and [name]'s so cool!" Yumi added, "they're always on top of the latest trends! Like what they did with their hair that one time? [name] fits in so well. They say they like to try a heap of things, so they relate to a lot of stuff. [name] doesn't really like standing out too much though, you know? Gives them the jitters."

And so comes his next target, you.

Various times, he tried to corner you, and failed. By himself he kind of figured out that you wanted to follow your friends, and so by them liking him, you liked him too.

His final plan—resorting to emotional manipulation at its finest to get the results he wanted.

Jealousy.

Now, in no way would you outright tell anyone that you liked Iwaizumi, and he knew that. So the only other way was to somehow get you to admit it to Iwaizumi himself.

Oikawa knew his best friend didn't beat around the bush. He was reliable and direct, and head strong to a near fault if not for his emotional awareness. Knowing that he was a confrontational person, if he could just make him jealous enough to talk to you about it...

He carried out this little plan for the following two weeks. Through the help of your friends not that they knew he got a little closer to you each and every day, with Iwaizumi as his witness. Though, just to help his friend out a bit, Oikawa would say a few good things about him to you, just to keep you on your toes.

And soon enough...

His plan worked!

"Cutie-chan!"

"Oi, [name]!" Yumi and Tika barrel into your classroom a few moments after the bell, "hurry up! We gotta move if we wanna catch Oikawa before the rest get there!"

"Ah, sorry guys," You wave them over, "I'm on cleanup duty with Hajime today, so I'll be late anyway. Don't wait up for me, okay?"

"Aww man." Yumi pouts, though her excitement renders her unable to stay any longer "if you say so. We'll call you later!"

"Next time then, alright?!" Tika pumps her fist determinedly before waving goodbye, "don't strain yourself!"

"See you tomorrow!" You call out after them, shaking your head lightly at the sound them calling back over their shoulders. "Hajime-san, you can head to practice of you want. I can handle it... and I don't want you to keep your team waiting."

"No, it's fine," The male shakes his head, "I wanted to—I don't want you to be stuck afterschool for so long." He cuts himself off, grabbing the mop from the supply closet.

"Ah, alright... Thanks."

The two of you indulge in idle chatter for the next fifteen minutes or so, too caught up in your small conversations to notice that you've almost finished cleaning within a matter of time. In a spare moment of silence, Iwaizumi furrows his brows as he thinks to himself.

You begin packing up the remaining supplies, "Whew, hey, we did well."

"Mm? Oh, yeah," Iwaizumi nods, partially lost in his thoughts.

"I wonder if I can still catch up to Yumi and Tika..." You wonder aloud, picking up your bookbag hanging over the back of your chair, "Oikawa-san would be in the gym by now, right?"

"[name]," You jump as Iwaizumi closes the supply closet door a little too roughly. He lets out a sharp exhale through his nose, "do...do you like Oikawa?"

You froze, stuck between lying to save your anxious ass and being a people pleaser and saying the truth.

His back is turned towards you, head leant down with one of his arms propped up against the door. His broad shoulders rose and fell with his deep breaths, his body tense. He looks... kinda hot scary.

"Oh, what? Why?" Your hand falls to your side, bag remaining slung over the back of the chair. You tilt your head at him, "are... you okay, Hajime?" You flinch as his head snaps up towards you. His eyes peering at you as he drops his arm, brows furrowed with his eyes expressing... not anger but--something else entirely.

"No," He heaves out a breath, unable to just shake it off this time around, "because I'm getting so many mixed signals, and I've tried to be patient, really, but damnit [name], it hurts you know?" He shakes his head and straightens himself up as he steps towards her, "just... I need you to just tell me, alright?"

Your mouth opens and closes, head dizzy but still no sound comes out. He likes you? Like, actually? 'Wait, no he didn't actually say that though. He's just being protective, right? what is happening right now--oH HE'S GETTING CLOSER WHATDOISAY-'

"W-Why this all of a sudden? What's Oikaw--" Backed against the desk, you stiffen with a squeak as he turns around steps forwards purposefully, panicking when he uses his arms to barricade you in.

'OH I SAID THE WRONG THING WHY WOULD I SAY THAT-'

"Out with it." At your fluster, his frown disappears and his eyes soften, something more gentle lacing his tone.

"[name]," You almost shiver at the sound of your name falling from his lips, "yes, or no? Don't—Don't say his name. Just tell me," his gaze trails up to meet yours again, his eyes strong enough to make your heart stop.

He falters slightly, "...do you—"

'holy shit-'

Before you could even register it, your lips are on his--still leant back against the desk, much too flustered to touch him. And yet, your mouth is pressed against his deliciously, stomach fluttering and your heart doing back flips.

You only come to your senses when one of his hands moves to gently hold the side of your waist, the other reaching up with a featherlight touch to cup your warm cheek. You muffle a squeak against him, and he presses against you a little more in response. You can feel him fight back a smile at the noise and you can't help but fester in your own embarassment.

All too soon you pull away, whether it be from the lack of air or the overwhelming humiliation--you don't know, nor do you quite care.

You just kissed Iwaizumi Hajime.

And his dark brown eyes swirl with evident fondess as he watches you gently, expectantly.

You gasp quietly once everything registers in your mind, tongue twisting for a response once you remember what he had been asking moments before you gave into your close proximity.

"N-No..! No, I'd never..." You swallow your fluster, "I like... you."

Hajime's cheeks redden at the confession, and you envy his ability to keep his composure as he remains still, eyes waiting for you to keep going.

You have the sneaking suspicion he's trying to drag this out, but your too nervous to refute and instead keep rambling.

"I... Hajime, ah... transfering here was so hard, and Seijoh is so scary. E-Everyone already had their groups, and clubs were basically full--" His eyes dart to your lips again and you panic, "--A-AND YOU WERE ONE OF THE REASONS I FELT SAFE!"

The weight of your words brings him back to the present, and his brows furrow slightly as he takes in their meaning.

You keep going, "I've... I've been scared. Being the new kid is hard, so I didn't want to stand out more than I already did... And then when I started to like you I got scared, but I didn't want you to freak out and so I pretended to... be like everyone else..."

At his silence, you shrink into yourself. Hajime notices your discomfort and pulls you a little closer in reassurance. He thinks for a moment.

"It's not so bad," He quirks up a brow at your worried look, "standing out, every now and then. It's okay not to go with everyone else."

You avert your eyes sheepishly, "I see that it's stupid now but..." You cringe, closing off as you straighten up, "god, it's embarassing..."

"No, no," Iwaizumi lets out a small, breathless laugh, heart thumping in his chest, "I'm listening." He leans down slightly, following to meet your eyes again.

You feel a warm, tickling sensation across your collarbone at his attention. You say his name, wincing when your voice cracks and flushing when he just smiles at you patiently.

"Hajime," You start again, slowly, "you... make me feel like I'm dreaming. I... felt like I would trip, and freak, and fall--I was scared. So I just... followed everyone else, I guess."

He observes you intently, noting the way your eyes struggle to meet his, but how your hands clench and unclench in restraint, longing to touch--to hold.

He takes in a breath, "Are you still scared?"

"I don't know... maybe?" You shrugs honestly, "but, I do like you... a-a lot.."

He grins at you, "Thank god. I don't know if I would've been able to handle you pretending to be one of shittykawa's crazy fans any longer." The atmosphere lightens at his statement, and you can't help but snort at the fact.

"Sorry," You smile at him sheepishly, "well, at least now you know."

Iwaizumi hums, "Don't go looking at him anymore, yeah? Watch me instead." His patient smile curls into a smirk as you reel back with a squeak.

"I never did anyway—my eyes were always on you." You giggle as his cool composure cracks, the male looking away bashfully, "but, I am glad it's you."

He smiles, leaning his forehead against yours lovingly.

"Me too."

#haikyuu x reader #character x reader #iwaizumi x reader #hq x reader #mtchee's library #mtchee's tea & story house #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader

68 notes · View notes