Synopsis: Once inseparable childhood friends, their bond takes an unexpected turn when you start dating in middle school. Jeonghan's behavior becomes increasingly erratic, transforming him from a supportive friend to a constant source of annoyance. Now, in college, the tables turn, but Jeonghan remains a delightful pain in the ass as old flames are rekindled in the midst of playful banter and undeniable attraction.
Word Count: 6.6k
Soccer Player! Reader, Soccer Player! Jeonghan - Enemies to Lovers
Warnings: smut, reader get pissed asf and beat Jeonghan's ass, unprotected sex, chocking, hair pulling, mentions of violence and aggression, oral (f. receiving), clit stimulation, finger sucking and etc.
In the sprawling grounds of your childhood, Jeonghan and you were inseparable. You spent endless afternoons kicking a worn-out soccer ball around, dreaming of the day you'd play together on the same team. You'd laugh, plan silly pranks, and talk about everything under the sun. But things changed when you started dating someone in middle school.
It was innocent, a fluttering crush that led to hand-holding and stolen glances. It wasn't meant to come between Jeonghan and you, but it did. Suddenly, his jokes turned sharper, the shoulder bumps felt like intentional jabs, and he even started bending the rules during games at frat parties. It felt like he was retaliating for your decision, and you couldn't understand why.
Confused and hurt by the sudden change, you distanced yourself from Jeonghan, and the friendship that had weathered the storms of childhood slowly faded away. The once inseparable duo became strangers, and you never got a chance to ask him what went wrong.
Years later, in the hallowed halls of college, your paths crossed again. Both of you were now dedicated athletes, pursuing your passion for soccer at the collegiate level. Your common friends couldn't help but notice the peculiar dynamic between you and Jeonghan. They often questioned why he treated you the way he did.
The setting sun cast long shadows across the soccer field as you and your friends left the practice session, laughter and banter filling the air. The atmosphere was light, and the camaraderie among teammates was palpable. Little did you know, the calm before the storm was just around the corner.
As you approached the locker room, still basking in the post-practice glow, you suddenly stumbled over someone's soccer cleats. Before you could hit the ground, Seungkwan, one of Jeonghan's friends, swiftly caught you, preventing a potential fall. Confused, you looked around and noticed Jeonghan standing nearby, a sly smirk playing on his lips.
The exchange didn't go unnoticed by your friends and Jeonghan's group. They exchanged glances, the air growing thick with tension. Jeonghan's friends raised questioning eyebrows, seemingly as surprised as your friends.
"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Seungkwan asked, concern evident in his eyes.
"Yeah, thanks to you," you replied, shooting a pointed look at Jeonghan, who was pretending to be innocent.
Your friends and Jeonghan's friends exchanged puzzled glances, sensing an underlying tension. "What's going on here?" one of your friends asked, breaking the awkward silence.
Before you could respond, another friend chimed in, "And why did Jeonghan just let you stumble like that? Is he okay?"
Jeonghan's friends looked at him, awaiting an explanation. Your friends, on the other hand, turned to you, expecting some clarification.
You took a deep breath, trying to contain your frustration. "I have no idea what's going on with Jeonghan," you said, shooting him a piercing glare. "But it's clear he's up to something, and I'm not in the mood for his games."
Jeonghan feigned innocence, a playful smile still on his face. "Games? Who, me? Nah, I was just standing here minding my own business," he said, shrugging.
Your jaw clenched as you fought the urge to respond. Instead, you turned away, leaving your friends behind, both groups noting the storm brewing within you. The air was thick with tension as you walked away, the unspoken question lingering in the minds of your friends and Jeonghan's group.
The locker room buzzed with excitement as you and your friends prepared for Soonyoung's party. The air was thick with hairspray and the lingering scent of sweat from the day's soccer practice. You sat on the bench, applying moisturizer to your tired legs, the cool cream a welcome relief after a rigorous workout. The dress you had chosen for the evening hung on the nearby hook, and you adjusted its hem, ensuring it fell just right.
As you meticulously prepared for the night ahead, your mind wandered back to Jeonghan's recent antics. A frown creased your forehead, and you let out an exasperated sigh. "I can't believe he pulled that stunt again. What's his problem?" you muttered, your frustration evident in your voice.
Your friend, sitting beside you, glanced up from her own makeup routine. "Jeonghan? What did he do now?" she asked, concern etching her features.
You rolled your eyes, recounting the incident with Seungkwan catching you and Jeonghan's apparent amusement. "He's just being his usual self—playing silly games and trying to get under my skin. It's like he's on a mission to annoy me today," you grumbled, the irritation evident in your tone.
Your friend sighed, setting down her makeup to focus on you. "You know how he is. Don't let him ruin your mood. It's Soonyoung's party, and we're here to have fun," she said, offering you a reassuring smile.
You nodded, appreciating her attempt to calm your brewing frustration. "I know, I know. But sometimes, he just gets on my nerves, and I can't figure out why he's like that."
With a soft chuckle, your friend gently pulled you into a side hug. "Maybe he's just Jeonghan, being Jeonghan. You can't change that, but you can control how you react. Don't let him ruin your night. We're here to dance, laugh, and enjoy. Let's focus on that, okay?"
She then turned her attention to your hair, expertly weaving a simple yet elegant hairstyle. The rhythmic motion of her hands and the comforting presence of your friend helped ease the tension that had built up. You took a deep breath, deciding to take her advice to heart.
"You're right. Let's forget about Jeonghan and have an amazing night," you said, forcing a smile as you shifted your focus back to the excitement of the party ahead.
Soonyoung's house pulsated with music and laughter as you and your friends embraced the vibrant atmosphere of the party. The beats compelled everyone to move, and you found yourself in the center of the makeshift dance floor, swaying to the rhythm with carefree abandon.
Soonyoung, the life of the party, approached you with a mischievous grin. "Y/N, you've got some moves! Are you sure you're not a secret dance prodigy?" he exclaimed, playfully exaggerating his surprise.
You laughed, the music drowning out your response, but you playfully mimed a humble acknowledgment. The two of you danced together for a while, and Soonyoung's infectious energy was contagious, adding to the carefree spirit of the night.
As you grooved to the music, Mingyu, a tall and athletic figure from the men's soccer team, made his way through the crowd towards you. He leaned in to talk in your ear, his voice barely audible over the booming music. "Hey, about the games next week, we're having joint practice sessions for both teams. You'll need to be close to me for some of the drills, okay?" he explained, his warm breath tickling your ear.
You nodded in agreement, giving him a thumbs up to signal that you understood the plan for the upcoming practices. Mingyu smiled and excused himself, disappearing back into the crowd.
Just as you turned to share the news with your friends, one of them pulled you aside, her expression serious. "Y/N, you might want to look behind you. Jeonghan looks like he's ready to burn holes into your soul with that glare of his," she warned, a hint of concern in her voice.
Confused, you glanced over your shoulder to find Jeonghan, indeed, shooting daggers at you with intense eyes. He was sipping from a red cup, his expression unreadable. You turned back to your friend, your face betraying a mix of surprise and discomfort.
"Why is he looking at me like that?" you asked, feeling a flush of embarrassment.
"He's probably not thrilled about you getting cozy with Mingyu," your friend speculated, a knowing look in her eyes.
You sighed, feeling the weight of Jeonghan's gaze on you. "Well, it's not like Mingyu and I were dancing intimately or anything. It was just about the soccer practice."
Before you could dwell on it further, Soonyoung grabbed a microphone, calling everyone's attention. "Alright, party people! Who's up for a game? Gather 'round!"
The game of "Musical Chairs" had escalated to a nail-biting climax, leaving only one chair in the center of the circle. To your surprise and dismay, Jeonghan emerged as your final opponent. The tension between you two had already been palpable, and now it seemed like the universe had conspired to put you in a face-off.
As the music stopped, you quickly claimed the last chair, ready to breathe a sigh of relief. However, before you could fully settle, Jeonghan decided to add a twist. In a daring move, he pulled the chair out from under you, leaving you flat on the floor, much to the shock of the onlookers.
A collective gasp echoed through the room, and someone in the background shouted, "He cheated!" Of course he cheated.
Without a second thought, you sprang to your feet, rage burning in your eyes. The buzz of screams around you became a distant hum as you leaped onto Jeonghan, wrapping your arms around his neck.
The chaotic scene was cut short as people rushed to pull you away from Jeonghan, attempting to defuse the situation. You found yourself sitting on a nearby couch, your face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Jeonghan, on the other hand, sat in the opposite corner, arms crossed, with noticeable nail marks on his neck courtesy of your unbridled fury.
The room fell into an uneasy silence, punctuated only by the hushed whispers and concerned glances exchanged between partygoers. Your friends shot you apologetic looks, clearly sensing the tension in the air.
After a brief pause, Jeonghan's friends took charge, ushering him to a separate corner for what seemed like a stern talking-to. Meanwhile, your friends approached you, expressions a mix of concern and amusement.
"Y/N, are you okay?" one of your friends asked, patting you on the back.
You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the embarrassment. "I'm fine. It's just... Jeonghan being Jeonghan," you replied, attempting to downplay the situation.
Amidst the residual tension and the discomfort of being in the same room as Jeonghan after the chaotic "Musical Chairs" incident, you felt a wave of frustration wash over you. Without a second thought, you began searching for your handbag and jacket, determined to leave.
"I've had enough," you muttered to yourself, the irritation evident in your voice.
Your friends and some of Jeonghan's friends noticed your abrupt movement and stepped in, attempting to halt your exit.
"Y/N, wait, don't go!" one of your friends called out, concern etched on her face.
Another friend from Jeonghan's group chimed in, "Come on, it was just a silly game. Don't let that ruin your night."
But you were resolute, determined to distance yourself from the escalating tension. "I can't deal with this anymore. Every time it's the same, and I'm done," you stated firmly, your tone leaving no room for negotiation.
Jeonghan's friends tried to reason with you. "He didn't mean for things to get out of hand. You know how he is," one of them pleaded, attempting to diffuse the situation.
You paused, torn between frustration and understanding. "I get it, but there's a limit. This has gone too far," you replied, your voice tinged with exasperation.
Jeonghan, sensing the gravity of the situation, looked conflicted from across the room, his expression a mix of regret and concern. He made a move as if to say something, but hesitated, unsure how to approach the situation.
But you had made up your mind. Ignoring the attempts to convince you otherwise, you swiftly grabbed your belongings and made for the door, your determination unwavering. The echoes of your friends' and Jeonghan's friends' voices calling after you faded as you stepped out into the cool night air.
The sound of the door closing behind you marked the end of a tumultuous night at Soonyoung's party. Outside, you took a deep breath, the weight of the evening slowly lifting as you prepared to leave the tensions of the night behind and head home. Sometimes, setting boundaries and taking a step back was necessary, even if it meant leaving a party prematurely.
The week had been a blur of training sessions and preparations for the upcoming game, leaving you with little time to dwell on the events of Soonyoung's party. As you walked through the university garden on a crisp Monday morning, the weight of the week's responsibilities pressed upon you. Your mind was focused on the game ahead, and you had almost forgotten about the tension with Jeonghan.
However, as you approached the entrance to your classroom, you were met with an unexpected sight. Jeonghan and his friends stood there, creating an invisible barrier between you and the classroom door. The air thickened with anticipation as you hesitated, catching your breath.
Not wanting to escalate the situation, you offered a curt nod and a short greeting, "Hi," before attempting to walk past them into the classroom.
Seungcheol, one of Jeonghan's friends, took a step forward. "Wait, Y/N. There's something Jeonghan needs to say," he said, his tone commanding.
You sighed, crossing your arms, signaling your readiness to listen but maintaining a defensive posture. The empty classroom echoed with silence as you waited.
Seungcheol turned to Jeonghan, his grip on Jeonghan's uniform firm. "Go on, say what you need to say," he instructed.
Jeonghan hesitated, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. After a moment, he managed to mumble, "Sorry, Y/N."
You squinted your eyes, incredulous. "Is that really coming from you?" you asked, your voice skeptical.
Seungcheol's grip tightened for a moment, a silent reminder to Jeonghan to speak sincerely. Lowering his head with a visible sense of regret, Jeonghan repeated, "I'm really sorry about that," his apology sounding more genuine this time.
You raised an eyebrow but remained silent, waiting to see if there was anything more to his apology.
After an awkward pause, Jeonghan bowed, a gesture of contrition, before hastily leaving the classroom. The door swung shut behind him, Seungcheol lingered for a moment, meeting your gaze with a nod of acknowledgement. Without saying a word, he followed Jeonghan out of the classroom, leaving you to contemplate the unexpected encounter.
The soccer field buzzed with the energy of the morning practice as both the men's and women's teams warmed up for the upcoming game. You were in the midst of your pre-game routine, jogging and stretching alongside your teammates, anticipation building for the match ahead.
The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, and both teams began weaving across the field in a display of skill and strategy. The intensity of the game kept you focused until an unexpected jolt of pain shot through the posterior part of your thigh, causing you to crumple to the ground in discomfort.
The trainer quickly halted the game, and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to endure the sharp pain. Soon, you felt hands carefully stretching your leg to alleviate the cramp. Assuming it was one of your teammates, you didn't pay much attention until you opened your eyes and realized it wasn't just anyone—it was Jeonghan.
He held your feet against his shoulder, applying gentle pressure to help ease the pain. The memories of your childhood flashed before your eyes—times when you had done the same for him. You brushed the nostalgia away, focusing on the present moment.
The trainer instructed you to move to the bench for further treatment, and you hopped on one foot, trying to shake off the discomfort. Sitting on the bench, frustration etched across your face, you couldn't help but feel unsatisfied with your performance being cut short by the unexpected cramp.
Jeonghan approached, concern evident in his eyes. "Are you okay, Y/N?" he asked, his voice carrying a genuine worry.
You shot him a quick glance, a mix of irritation and pain on your face. "I'll be fine. Just a cramp. It's nothing," you replied tersely, trying to downplay the situation.
Jeonghan hovered, unsure of how to respond. "If there's anything I can do—"
You cut him off, your tone a blend of frustration and dismissal. "I've got it, Jeonghan. Just focus on the game."
The sun blazed overhead as you continued your solo training on the field, determined to push yourself beyond the limits. The intensity of the game had faded into the background, and now it was just you, the field, and the relentless heat. Water bottles scattered around you, evidence of the effort you were putting in.
Lost in your focus, you were suddenly brought back to reality when you noticed Jeonghan sitting on the bench nearby, his arms crossed. It was then that you realized you had lost track of time.
"How long have you been sitting there?" you asked, wiping sweat from your forehead.
Jeonghan remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the field. "Long enough to know it's not safe to train under this sun," he finally responded.
You scoffed, dismissing his concern. "I need to train, Jeonghan. I can't afford to slack off."
He sighed, uncrossing his arms. "And that's exactly why you ended up with a cramp earlier. Your muscles are exhausted."
The tension between you and Jeonghan simmered as you prepared to leave the field, feeling a mixture of frustration and reluctance to accept his advice. As you rose from the bench, ready to head towards the locker rooms, Jeonghan's hand reached out, gently gripping your wrist.
"You've always been stubborn," he remarked, his voice soft yet firm.
You turned to face him, a flash of irritation crossing your features. "It's not like you care anyway," you retorted, trying to pull your wrist from his grasp.
You pulled your wrist from his grip, shooting him a sharp look. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
Jeonghan sighed, choosing his words carefully. "I remember when we were kids, you were always determined and driven. But now, it's like your determination has turned into something else—an edge, a sharpness."
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Well, maybe if you hadn't been such a pain in the ass all these years, I wouldn't need an edge to deal with you."
As Jeonghan mumbled something about Eunwoo— your ex-boyfriend from middle school — ruining everything, your curiosity was piqued. You turned your ear towards him, a puzzled expression on your face. "Who? Eunwoo? What does he have to do with anything?"
Jeonghan's eyes widened, a brief moment of panic crossing his face. He stammered, attempting to deny any connection, but the truth was written all over his expression. It was clear – he was jealous of Eunwoo.
Your mind clicked into place, connecting the dots. "Wait a minute... are you telling me you've been jealous of Eunwoo?"
Jeonghan hesitated, avoiding eye contact, but the admission lingered in the air. A mix of surprise and realization played on your features. "Seriously? You've been jealous this whole time?"
He shifted uncomfortably, searching for words. "It's not like that! I just... I've known you for so long, and seeing you with someone else—"
You cut him off, unable to contain a laugh. "Jeonghan, are you kidding me? You've been acting like this because of jealousy?"
He looked a bit sheepish but attempted to maintain his composure. "It's not just jealousy. It's just... complicated."
You couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief. "Complicated? Jeonghan, you've been playing games, making jokes, and being a pain in the ass, all because of some weird, complicated jealousy thing?"
The revelation that Jeonghan's years of stubborn behavior were rooted in jealousy over a mere one-month affair left you both astonished and perplexed. As you walked towards the locker rooms, the air hung heavy with unspoken thoughts, and you couldn't hold back from addressing the situation.
"You mean to tell me that all these years of your antics and stubbornness were because of a one-month affair?" you asked, disbelief coloring your tone.
Jeonghan avoided direct eye contact, a sheepish expression on his face. "I didn't plan for things to get this complicated. It just happened."
You shook your head in amazement. "Jeonghan, we've been friends for so long. Why didn't you just talk to me about it? You let this jealousy fester for years over something so trivial?"
"I thought if I acted like it didn't bother me, it would go away. Clearly, that didn't work." He points, creating a silence between you two.
You couldn't help but notice the faint marks on his skin from the intense encounter during the party. The remnants of your frustration were etched in the form of nail marks, a visual reminder of the heated exchange.
After a moment of contemplation, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Hey, Jeonghan, about the party... I'm sorry about, you know, beating your ass," you said, gesturing towards the marks on his neck. "But, honestly, you kind of deserved it."
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, "No need to apologize, Y/N. I probably deserved it."
You raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in your voice, "Deserved it? What's that supposed to mean?"
Jeonghan sighed, admitting, "Well, maybe I've been a bit of a pain lately, and I needed a wake-up call."
You crossed your arms, still not fully convinced, "So, you intentionally provoked me?"
He nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips, "Yeah, but not because I enjoy getting my ass kicked. I just... I didn't know how else to deal with everything, and it all got a bit out of hand."
You let out a small huff, "Well, next time, try talking instead of provoking. It might save you some nail marks."
Jeonghan chuckled at your apology, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. Nail marks come with the territory, and I can handle a bit of rough play."
You shot him a skeptical look, "You're awfully calm about having marks on your neck."
He winked, a playful smirk on his face, "Actually, I find it kind of sexy. Adds a bit of excitement, you know?"
You rolled your eyes, not entirely convinced by his nonchalant attitude. "Well, I'm not planning on making a habit out of beating you up."
Jeonghan laughed, "Fair enough, but if you ever feel the need to express your frustrations again, just aim for my back next time. It might be a bit more enjoyable for both of us."
Your eyes widened at his bold suggestion, "Are you serious?"
He shrugged, a playful glint still in his eyes, "Why not? It's all in good fun."
You shook your head, a mix of amusement and disbelief. "You're impossible, Jeonghan."
[...]
The week leading up to the game passed in a surprisingly calm manner. Jeonghan's demeanor had shifted, and the lingering tension that once colored your interactions had dissipated. His jokes were now more lighthearted, and both of your groups could finally enjoy lunch without the threat of any neck-ripping incidents.
As the day of the game approached, nervous anticipation settled in. The stakes were high, and the pressure was palpable. On the field, the air crackled with a mix of excitement and tension as the moment of truth drew near.
The referee's whistle pierced the air, signaling the start of the game. You, alongside your teammates, advanced with determination. The match was tight, a fierce competition between your team and the opposing university. The score remained deadlocked, each side vying for that crucial goal that could tip the scales in their favor.
With only moments left before the game would potentially go into penalties, an opportunity presented itself. The goalkeeper seemed far, and the ball rolled towards you. It was your chance. With a burst of adrenaline, you sprinted towards the goal, the crowd's cheers blending into a distant roar.
In that critical moment, you kicked the ball with precision, the satisfying thud echoing through the stadium as it sank into the net. The eruption of cheers from the crowd was deafening, and your teammates rushed to embrace you.
Amidst the chaos of celebrating students flooding onto the field, your friends engulfed you in hugs, relishing the triumph, but your gaze was drawn towards Jeonghan. His seated figure and the small punches he absentmindedly threw into the air betrayed a different, quieter emotion. It was a momentary glimpse behind the facade he often wore, revealing a side of him that wasn't always apparent.
The day had been long and exhausting, and the comfort of a warm bath had been a much-needed respite. As the echo of the doorbell reached your ears, you wrapped yourself in a robe, moving swiftly to answer it.
Opening the door just a crack, you peeked out, surprised to find Jeonghan standing in the hallway. "Jeonghan?" you questioned, a hint of curiosity in your voice.
He met your gaze with a warm smile. "Hey, I wanted to congratulate you," he said, a sense of genuine admiration in his tone.
Pausing for a moment, you hesitated before deciding to let him in. Opening the door wider, you gestured for him to step inside your dorm room. Jeonghan entered, a look of determination on his face.
Without warning, he wrapped his arms around you in an unexpected hug, catching you off guard. The embrace was surprisingly comforting, the warmth of his presence a stark contrast to the hectic day.
"Thanks, Y/N," he murmured, his voice soft.
For a moment, you were taken aback by the sudden intimacy. His gesture felt sincere, and as he pulled away, there was a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn't seen before.
"Um, thanks," you managed, feeling a mixture of surprise and gratitude.
Jeonghan smiled warmly, the tension of the day momentarily forgotten. "I just wanted to say it in person. You did great."
"I did, didn't I?" you teased with a playful grin, breaking the silence that lingered in your room.
Jeonghan scoffed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, you did."
An air of uncertainty settled between you as he fidgeted, his hands finding refuge in his pockets. The room was charged with unspoken tension, both of you seemingly on the edge of something unexplored.
After a few moments of hesitation, Jeonghan let out a sigh, a resigned "fuck it" escaping his lips. In an instant, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a surprising and passionate kiss. The shock sent a jolt through your body, but you found yourself kissing him back with equal fervor.
He pressed you against the wall, the sudden intensity of the moment causing your heart to race. Your fingers tangled in his long hair, a tangible connection forming between you.
In the charged atmosphere of the moment, Jeonghan's hands gripped your waist, his thumbs tracing teasing circles on the towel cloth of your robe. With a mischievous grin, he released your lower lip with a soft pop, his gaze lingering on your face.
As he pressed his body against yours, the knot of your robe seemed to have mysteriously loosened, creating a seductive cleavage that exposed the curves of your bust. The fabric hung on the brink of revealing more, almost exposing your nipple.
You whispered, your voice barely audible, "Jeonghan."
Jeonghan leaned back, his eyes widening as he saw your robe almost undone. A gulp escaped him, and he hurriedly moved to close the cloth around you. Your hands intercepted his, holding them in place. There was a shared understanding in that moment—a tacit agreement that things had shifted, and there was no turning back.
With a steady gaze, you opened the robe, exposing your body. Jeonghan's breath caught, his hands instinctively gripping the sides of the robe tightly. The room seemed to buzz with an electric tension, and the air felt charged with anticipation.
His hands found their way to your hips, fingers pinching the fabric of your robe. The sensation sent shivers down your spine as his touch left an indelible mark on the uncharted territory of your connection.
As the intimate moment continued, Jeonghan led you to sit on the couch. His hands caressing the skin under your belly button, opening you by your inner thighs, until he reaches your pussy. He licks his fingers, starting to circle your clit, you muffle a moan, closing your eyes when you feel two of his fingers entering you.
"Jeonghannie…"
A soft moan escaped your lips, and in the hushed aftermath, you whispered, "Jeonghannie."
He hummed in response, the sound a tender acknowledgment of the nickname that had slipped past your lips. There was an unspoken intimacy in the way he absorbed the words, a resonance that spoke of shared history and a connection that had weathered the complexities of time.
"I missed that," Jeonghan admitted, his mouth sucking your clit, and you jolted, moving your hips, almost riding his fingers.
His request hung in the air, and you felt a flutter of anticipation as Jeonghan, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, asked, "Can you do that again?"
A coy smile played on your lips as you willingly obliged. "Jeonghannie," you moaned, the sound escaping your lips with an undeniable fervor.
His fingers curled, and your body tenses while you throw your head back, a satisfied smile forming on his face. The room was filled with a charged energy, and the intimacy between you deepened with each shared moment. "Again," he requested, the playful challenge evident in his eyes.
Your voice, laced with desire, echoed the familiar nickname once more, "Ah! Jeonghannie."
A low chuckle escaped him as he reveled in the sound, flicking your bud with his tongue. Your pussy was tight around his fingers, and he knows you are almost there. So he stops. As you whimpered, a question escaped your lips, "You won't be stubborn here too, right?" The anticipation in your voice held a hint of vulnerability.
Jeonghan, his jaw clenched and a firm grip in your hair, made you look into his intense gaze. There was a magnetic intensity in his eyes that seemed to hold the weight of unspoken desires.
He teased, his voice low and husky, "What if I want you to beg, hmm?"
A shiver ran down your spine at his words, the raw desire and dominance in his tone leaving you breathless. A breathy uncertainty laced your voice as you echoed, "B-beg?"
Jeonghan's grip on your hair tightened slightly, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "That's right. Beg for it," he murmured, his tone a blend of command and temptation.
The air between you crackled with a newfound intensity, and as you hesitated, his fingers entwined in your hair, he repeated, "Beg, Y/N."
Your heartbeat quickened, and the room seemed to close in around you. The vulnerability of the moment hung in the air, and in a hushed voice, you uttered the words he sought, "Please, Jeonghan." Your pussy clenching around nothing.
"Please what, Y/N?" he inquired, his eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk playing on his lips.
"Please let me cum on your mouth Jeonghannie..." You cried out, and fuck, you felt like a pathetic slut.
He smiles, sucking your cunt, licking everywhere, your moans escaping your lips, an uncontrollable melody of pleasure. Sensing an opportunity to play, Jeonghan added his own voice to the symphony, a low and enticing moan that mirrored the rhythm of your own.
As you continued to moan, he intensified his efforts, each sound a deliberate echo of your pleasure. His moans grew louder, the teasing quality evident in every sultry note.
Your legs lock him, and he makes you cum messily on his tongue. Your feel dizzy, how the fuck you are trembling on your couch, with robe opened, and Jeonghan giving you a mind-blowing oral?
Jeonghan, with a deliberate and firm movement, turned you around, positioning you with your arms gripping the backrest of the couch. Your body arched, your ass lifted in the air, the vulnerability and anticipation palpable in the intimate moment.
Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation, and you avoided turning to look at him. The heat emanating from Jeonghan behind you was palpable, and you rested your face on the sofa, trying to conceal the flush that colored your features.
Suddenly, his hands moved swiftly, gripping your hair with a rough intensity. He pulled you closer, and your back pressed against his chest. Jeonghan pressed his lips against yours. However, your mouth fell open, and you couldn't reciprocate the kiss as you felt him pushing his thick cock inside.
The pace quickened, Jeonghan's hips moving surprisingly fast, each thrust making your body bounce with every stroke. The sounds that escaped your lips were a mix of pleasure and restraint. Unsure if the walls could contain the intensity, you bit your lips almost to the point of tasting blood, attempting to stifle the moans that threatened to escape.
Jeonghan, disapproving of your attempt to silence yourself, held the back of your neck. He pressed your face against the pillowed backrest of the couch, a commanding tone accompanying his touch. "Don't hold back your moans," he ordered, his voice a low, authoritative whisper that sent shivers down your spine.
The sounds of skin slapping echoed in the background, but Jeonghan's insistence on hearing your unrestrained pleasure added a new layer of pleasure sent directly to your cunt.
Stuttering, you managed to express your concern, "J-Jeonghan, people can listen," the words slipping between the gasps and moans.
He, however, seemed indifferent. "I don't give a fuck," he asserted, the determination in his voice unwavering.
You insisted, "Anyone can pass in the hall and hear us."
In response, he scoffed, dismissing the concern. Without a word, he pushed two fingers into your mouth, silencing you momentarily as you involuntarily drooled around them.
Jeonghan's blunt question hung in the air, "Good for you now, slut?" Your response came in the form of a satisfied mumble, an unspoken acknowledgment of the shared pleasure.
He, however, expressed a sentiment of unfairness, his voice carrying a mix of teasing and genuine desire. "That's unfair, Y/N. I've waited so long to hear you like this, and now you're impeding me from enjoying it?"
He pushes you to lay your back on the couch, pushing his dick inside of you again. His hands are now choking you slightly. Your response was a breathless laugh, a mixture of amusement and pleasure. "I can't help it if you're too impatient, Jeonghan."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through your shared space. "Impatient? After all this time? I've been waiting for this, and now you're telling me I have to be patient?" A teasing glint sparkled in his eyes as he continued, "You're a tease, Y/N. Making me wait, and now you're holding back."
You playfully rolled your eyes, even though his words resonated with a certain truth. "Maybe I enjoy making you wait. Builds anticipation, doesn't it?"
Jeonghan grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Well, I hope you're ready to make up for lost time."
The rhythm intensified, and the force of Jeonghan's hips against you became more pronounced. The friction started to border on discomfort, and you shut your eyes tightly, desperate to channel all the overwhelming pleasure into a refuge against screaming aloud. Your hands found their way to his back, nails digging into his skin and trailing all the way down.
Your moans and gasps mingled in the air, both of you caught in the throes of pleasure. The sheer intensity of the moment made coherent conversation impossible, reducing any attempts to words that stuttered out in fragmented pleasure.
His mouth fell open, and he called your name with a voice that echoed the shared ecstasy. "Y/N," he stammered, the syllables breaking with the weight of desire, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that engulfed both of you.
The intensity of the moment pushed you to repeat the action, your nails running harder and more unconsciously down his back. A gasp escaped him, filling the room as his climax overtook him, making his body shiver with the force of pleasure.
After the peak of pleasure subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath. "This is a dirty game you played on me," he remarked, a hint of sulking in his voice. The unexpected intensity of the encounter, spurred by the simple action of your nails on his back, had left him vulnerable and surprised.
A playful smirk played on your lips as you teased him, "Oh, you're really into scratching your skin, aren't you?"
Jeonghan's sulky expression transformed into a sheepish grin. "Well, maybe a little. You seem to have a talent for it."
As the playful banter continued, Jeonghan's hand ventured down your body, his touch purposeful circling your clit. The exploration was gentle yet intent, working to build the anticipation and pleasure that would lead you to orgasm.
A connection of affection and determination passed between you as you held his forearm, your eyes locked onto his. The look in his eyes conveyed a desire for you to cum,, the unspoken connection between you and Jeonghan deepening with each breath.
His hands worked faster, and your breath quickened in response. You avoided looking at him, lost in the overwhelming sensations. A hiss escaped him as you clenched around him, your back arching from the couch, the sensation of your nipples brushing against his skin adding an extra layer of intensity. In the throes of passion, you called him "Jeonghannie," the nickname slipping past your lips in a breathless plea.
"I'm going to—" you began, the words catching in your throat as pleasure surged through you.
Jeonghan, with a husky urgency, filled the silence, "Cum for me, my beautiful whore…" You reaching a crescendo as he urged you to surrender to the pleasure. "Cream on my cock, my beautiful Y/N. Let go for me."
You held onto his forearm tighter, gasping for air and calling out his name every time more louder. His response was a husky affirmation, "Yes, baby, just like that. Mhmm, that's my little slut."
The orgasm finally hit you, a powerful wave of pleasure surging through your body as you creamed hard around him. The room filled with the unmistakable sounds of your release, a symphony of ecstasy echoing in the air. Jeonghan, caressing your hair, tried to soothe you from the intensity of the climax.
"Fuck, I'll have to take another bath," you said, and Jeonghan chuckled, his voice laced with a satisfied tone, "Well, at least it will be with me."
He held you gently, leading the way to clean up. The shared bath became a tender moment, the water soothing and cleansing as you both relaxed.
Afterward, you lay on your bed, and Jeonghan sat on the edge. You called him, and he turned his head, carefully facing you. "What's up?"
You took a moment before admitting, "I saw the scratches on your back in the bath, but I was embarrassed to tell you."
He got up and turned his back to the mirror on your wardrobe, trying to take a peek at what you did. A smile spread across his face as he examined the red lines on the milky skin of his back. "Looks like you had fun back there," he teased, turning to face you.
Jeonghan, playfully teasing, grinned and said, "How am I going to explain this to my friends in the locker room?"
You joined in the playful banter, suggesting, "Maybe avoid changing around them this week."
He chuckled and offered a humorous solution, "I can always say I got into a fight with a cat."
Both of you burst into laughter, the shared joke creating a light and carefree atmosphere.
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He Chose You (Pt. 9)
Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated Explicit.
Warning: Character Death, and minor details of childbirth.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12
“You’re glowing!”
You’d scoffed while watching as your body literally began to illuminate from the inside out.
“Well of course.” You’d snickered, looking from your hands to Lucifer. “Every mother does.”
Your hand came up to clasp your mouth shut, but the Freudian slip was already out there. Lucifer stared at you and you stared back.
Your lips wobbled and torso trembled until you could no longer hold it in and burst into laughter. Elation ran its course, and Lucifer joined you — laughing so hard that he slapped his knee.
When you fell into his arms and let yourself be held, you imagined it would only be for a little while. This bizarro pregnancy had you on some kind of high, and all the worries and doubts that had been building up disappeared.
—
You can’t remember for how long you’ve been walking but there’s discomfort in the soles of your feet. The landscape changes as soon as you truly behold it.
The endless field of tall grass and the trees so tall they could touch the sky had been replaced by golden sand. You could feel its gentle heat on the ends of your toes. Beyond the sand is a gently rolling ocean, lilac beneath a honey gold sky as the sun has only just set. The sound of rhythmic, rushing water is so real and so close that you’re immediately calm.
Memories flood your mind like a sneaker wave. You’re a child again, running away from the water as it laps at you. The shock of the cold water goes away quickly and you want to follow the pebbles and seashells that drift back out with the retreating tide.
You look back, away from the sea, and see the blonde woman behind you. You grin.
She’s wistful.
It stamps down on your joy. The air is salty and wet blowing through your hair and inhaled through your nostrils. You want to speak, but you can’t think of a thing to say.
“I wish this was goodbye.” Her voice carries above the waves, muffling them until they’re nothing but a dull roar.
—
You awoke to the sensation of falling and seized in your bed. Lucifer startled beside you. He’d been sleeping wrapped around your belly; a compromise to laying perpendicular to you so that he could continue talking to the soccer-player in your stomach.
He or she had not stopped moving since they decided to make it known that they were, in fact, not dead.
(You’d chided the baby for that, and for doubling in size in less than two week’s time, much to Lou’s amazement:
“Hell isn’t ready to be ruled by two speed demons.” You’d deadpanned.)
“Huh?” He grabbed you without thought. “What—”
Movement erupted from deep down in your core, muscles clenching and unclenching quickly, forcing you to seize again.
“I think I’m — ugh!” You gritted your teeth. “—I’m going into labor.”
Lucifer doesn’t do anything for a long moment.
Then he flew into a panic before you could say ‘Jesus Christ!’.
—
The hallway outside illuminated with the sheer brilliance of your body, literally glowing. It hadn’t stopped since it started, only a few weeks ago. Fortunately, the glow was tied to an almost paralyzing euphoria. It was the kind of delight that turned your blood into gold while racing through your body. The kind that kept you from complaining that you’d become Tinkerbell.
“Steady. I’ve got you!” Lucifer assured whilst trudging over the carpet with you in his arms.
An influx of pain rippled through you for the first time, providing distraction from the mortification you might’ve felt in that position. It hasn’t escaped your notice that the Prince of Darkness was a shortstack. Your brain had a hard time accepting that for as small as he appeared, Lucifer was capable of unimaginable feats of strength and endurance.
So, you didn’t think about it. Instead you focused on breathing in and out deeply as your partner kicked at the front door of your neighbors’ apartment with the toe of his boot.
As if waiting at the door, Warren Farrow appeared from behind the polished wood. His expression was of minute surprise, but within seconds he was turning back and calling for his wife.
Lucifer managed to pivot the two of you into the Farrow home. Warren guided you with an unusual vigor in his step, as though he were a man decades younger.
“We’ve had it set up for weeks now, Sir.” Warren said gravely.
Through the convulsions, you observed the inlet that Lucifer had taken you into. It was like a roomy closet, covered in tapestries and littered with candles of all shapes and colors.
Warren’s wife was flitting about, quickly lighting the pitch-black surroundings until you could see the mere outline of things.
You were drawn to the center of the crowded room, where a humble white cot covered in white towels contrasted everything else.
It occurred to you then that this entire pregnancy had been a shit show, not the least bit because you’d never gone to any OB. You hadn’t checked in with any hospital, or stepped foot in one — how could you?
Therefore, any and all “check-ups” you’d had had come from your creepy neighbors with their tea and their scrutinizing questions and their buzzard-like stares.
You’d consoled yourself throughout with the brief, semi-serious talk with Mrs. Farrow three months into gestation.
“What? Were you a midwife or something?” You asked incredulously.
“Yes, honey.” Cass had patted your hand like you were a simpleton. “I helped deliver babies for over 15 years. I was younger than you were when I first started!”
You had stared. ‘Oh god, how many crazy cultists are actually nurses in disguise?’
“Here we go, all set. You can lay her down here.” Cassie came over brusquely, smoothing over the wrinkles in the cot before Lucifer put you down.
He laid you on the sheets, light as a feather, jarring as you felt your belly weigh you down. The King didn’t go far, reluctant to let go of your hand. You held on like a vice as well, gripping and squeezing with each contraction.
You felt pinches in and around your abdomen, but the pain was… off. It came not from true agony, but the overworking of your internal organs in contrast to the pleasantness that you embodied post-glow stick phase.
Hearing childbirth horror stories all your life, and just the horrors of raising children in general, you expected to be screaming and thrashing.
This wasn’t as bad as some of your past periods had been. What’s worse than that, however, is the unnecessary guilt you feel for how troublesome it isn’t.
—
Lucifer struggled to remain in one spot as the urge to pace up and down the cramped little birthing room ate at him.
He didn’t want to leave you — not that his two hosts would dare make him, regardless of tradition — but old habits die hard. He was fidgeting, putting all his weight on one foot then the other.
You were his exact opposite, laying placid and relaxed on the birthing bed, eyeing the little room. Microexpressions flitted across your face, some of confusion and some of hurt, but aside from your firm grasp on his hand, and the occasional grunt, you may as well have been dozing off.
Eventually you glanced at him.
“Do you wanna sit down?” You asked calmly.
Lucifer tried to laugh but it came out like a strangled wheeze. “Nahhh, this is fine. I’m fine. Are you fine? I mean I know you’re not fine, but can I do something? Whatever you need, I can get it for you!”
His rambling ends with you bopping him between the eyes teasingly. “You’re silly.”
It’s inexplicable, but Lucifer’s mood lightened at your mellow admonishment. He meets your warm, drowsy expression with an adoring smile of his own.
“I am.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re an angel to put up with it.”
A too-loud rasp interrupted the soft moment of nothing but affection and kisses. Cass was standing at the foot of your cot, hands on each of your knees as she kept your legs apart.
“Get ready, honey. You’re on your way.” She hailed.
–
A cry split through the air and it went straight to your heart.
You gulp down air (Lucifer mimicking you without meaning to) with sweat pouring from your hairline. The lack of pain hadn’t meant a lack of effort, and you still felt like you’d run a marathon just to pass the little being currently wailing in Mrs. Farrow’s arms.
“It’s a girl.” Mrs. Farrow declared.
There was no attempt to hide the sidelong glance she gave Mr. Farrow. The lines and grooves on the elderly man’s face deepened until he resembled a gnarled tree trunk.
“Hmm.” Was his reply, deep baritone rolling like thunder in the tiny room.
Vehement indignance blazed to life inside your mind when the old man looked at you, critical and disappointed. You felt like tearing him and the rest of this old, tacky room to shreds. Yet, exhaustion had planted its roots deep inside of you, and all you could do was glare at the old couple from your makeshift bed.
‘Why does it fucking matter?’
“Gimme my kid.” You growled.
As if to piss you off further, Cass ignored you in favor of wiping the baby clean before passing her off to Lucifer. The old bat presented her to the King like she was a fallen bannerman’s sword, even curtsying while doing it.
It was so weird that it brought you out of your anger for a second.
Lucifer was clearly apprehensive, and his insecurity made the grand gesture stranger. He swallowed visibly, making eye contact with you when he couldn’t break away from the internal turmoil he was struggling with.
“Bring her to me.” You demanded. Lucifer nodded vigorously, cocking a head toward you.
It was fucking nonsensical, but at last Cass obeyed and brought you a bundle wrapped in silky black.
The baby’s wailing tapered off as soon as she’d made contact with you. And like a child on Christmas morning, you shifted to sit up as much as you could and pry open the swaddling cloth.
You sniffled.
All at once, the breath caught in your throat and your eyes welled up with tears.
The newborn was as flagrant as her father in terms of skin tone and hair. She hadn’t yet opened her eyes but already you could see none other than a spitting image of Lucifer himself. Right down to the rosy apple cheeks that made up her pudgy little face.
You were a little surprised to see that she had a nose. A little black smudge, puppy-like - anomalous like the little growths on her forehead and the itty bitty spade on the tip of her wagging tail.
She was perfect.
“I think she’s a Charlotte.” You manage to tear your eyes away from the miraculous hellspawn in your arms just long enough to search Lucifer’s golden gaze. “What do you think?”
His Majesty is a whimpering mess beside you. “Y-yeah. That’s perfect.”
Peeling the blanket back just that much more, you lean toward him. It takes a little coaxing, but sure enough Lucifer traces a delicate claw over the child’s tiny brow.
“Hello Charlotte.” He whispered. “We’re so happy you’re here.”
Adoration overwhelmed you, nigh on visible like the air was tinged with its color, its scent, its warmth cocooning the three of you.
Daddy, Mommy and baby. A strange but happy little family.
Lou embraced the two of you, hiding his face, and subsequent weeping, in the side of your neck while your baby cooed.
The background chants of ‘Hail Princess Charlotte’ and ‘Hail King Lucifer’ were, thankfully, not enough to ruin the moment.
Nothing could. Until.
It doesn’t dawn on you that anything is wrong when the glow has faded. It’s only the incidental look at your fingers, with Charlotte’s tail curled around them, that freezes you. Numbness then began to crawl up your body, as if waiting for the moment that you’re brain would connect the dots. The copper scent of blood made your nostrils flare and heart hammer.
Fear clutched at you in an instant. “Take her. Take the baby.”
Your desperate hiss and barely-there shuffle to push Charlotte into Lucifer’s arms fully had his face falling.
“W-wai-wh-What’s happening?” He asked, panic rising.
Mrs. Farrow is prompt, crone’s face scrunched and nose prominent as if she could sniff out the issue. She’s stood at the end of the bed, already lifting the sheets off your body before you can seek her out.
A stiff hand appears over the covers, covered in shiny dark claret. “She’s bleedin’ too much.”
Lucifer’s eyes blazed from where he hovered. “Why?”
The elderly woman was ready to shrug, but she stalled. Perhaps out of fear. “It happens, your Grace. Birthing a baby takes a toll on the mother, sometimes it’s too much.”
“Then why are you just standing there?”Lucifer bared his fangs, ivory in the lowlight. His eyes were a haze of vermillion, so opaque that you couldn’t find his pupils or the soul inside. “Help her!”
The truly demonic scrape of his vocal chords frightened you, as did the sudden appearance of tusk-like horns protruding from his skull and the fire coming to life between them. His beautiful skin marred and stretched and cracked as if his form were a prison barely containing the true beast within.
Energy crackled in the air, heat rising to blow back your hair and dry the air from your lungs like a flung-open kiln. The breath was stolen from your lungs as ivory wings shot out and overtook what little space was left in the alcove.
Reality was literally distorting around Lucifer’s warped rage.
Mr. Farrow, for all his reticence, reached for his wife’s shoulder from within your line of sight.
“Lucifer.” You hissed, bearing the brunt of his inhuman stare when he turned to you. It took real energy to speak. “I need you… the baby…”
It didn’t take anymore prodding for the blond to intercept your daughter once your desperation got through to him. The Devil slowly shifted back, revealing the depth of his fear in the cloudless turn of his gaze. He met you halfway - finally - and pulled Charlotte close to his chest.
A pang of thankfulness made laughter bubble up from your diaphragm. It hurt. Everything hurt again.
“Stop. Wait.” Lucifer begged, voice turned to ice. Fragile, cracking. His natural white glow had dimmed significantly like a cooling star. “This isn’t— I promised you this wouldn’t happen! This can’t happen!”
A shudder ran through you.
“Hey.” You lifted a hand and placed it on his pale cheek, thumb brushing over where white met red. “Nothing… for it now.”
“No, don’t, that’s… No.” His agony was so palpable, as his fury had been.
“You’re gonna be a great dad.” You murmured.
Lucifer bowed over the side of the bed with Charlotte snug against him. You could feel the warmth of his breath, and then the splash of his tears against your cheek as he broke down. You felt it deep in your bones, and the lump in your throat that choked you.
“Not without you.” He said. “I can’t do this without you.”
A pained smile was your response. Vision a-blur. Cotton tongue.
“You… will.”
Lucifer shook his head fiercely. “I promised you. I swore I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I can’t… I can’t...”
“Please. Please don’t — ” Anguish turned Lucifer’s once melodic voice into broken notes. “Don’t leave us. Please, please, please.”
His sobs intermingled with Charlotte’s whimpering. She fussed as she was woken from her doze by the growing, tangible urgency. You wished you could calm both of them. Take them in your arms and make it all go away, promise that you weren’t going anywhere.
“Please. Please. Please.” The word fell from the Devil’s mouth like a prayer.
You wondered if he really was praying. Praying to his Father.
It broke your heart.
The candlelight around you was getting brighter as the rest of your surroundings grew dark. Lucifer, as brilliant as he was, lingered somewhere in between. You squinted when his features began to fuse together in your mind. It did little to help, as large, dark shadows blotted out the corners of your sight.
Charlotte was bawling and you fought to open your eyes again. You hadn’t realized they’d closed.
You were so tired. The will to rise up and comfort your baby was dwindling. Everything had succumbed to a thin stream of light in a sea of darkness.
With a breath, and another Herculean effort, you opened your eyes again.
White blinded you.
And then you were nothing.
***
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