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gyuuberryy · 10 days

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prince charming's mismatch

pairing: prince!heeseung x princess!reader

synopsis: you and prince heeseung have been rivals for as long as you can remember. what began as childhood clashes has grown into a deep-seated animosity over the years. but when your sister runs away on her wedding day, you're forced to take her place and marry heeseung—the last person you ever wanted to call your husband.

now bound in an unwanted marriage, you’re faced with navigating the tension between your unresolved hatred and an unexpected attraction. as palace intrigue and looming threats surround you both, you must confront the truth of your feelings. will the bitterness between you tear you apart, or will it ignite something far more powerful?

genre: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, arranged marriage au

warnings: highly suggestive content!!! kissing, hee and reader are mean at first, insecurities, jealous!hee

note: i've been meaning to write this plot for an year now, im happy with how it turned out! e2l with hee is always soo fun to write. enjoyy

word count: 11.5k

royally yours masterlist | next: jay

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the first time you met prince heeseung, it was at a grand summer garden party hosted by your parents in the palace’s sprawling grounds. you were barely six years old, and he wasn’t much older, yet even then, the air between you crackled with something akin to competition. your governess had dressed you in your finest lace frock, with your hair tied in perfect ribbons, but none of that mattered. you were too busy building a grand sandcastle near the fountain, your little fingers carefully patting the turrets into shape.

that was when heeseung appeared, his shadow falling over your castle like a storm cloud. he crouched beside you without so much as a polite greeting, his royal title apparently excusing his lack of manners. his eyes, sharp for a child, surveyed your handiwork critically.

“that’s not right,” he declared, reaching out to touch one of your towers. “the walls need to be thicker, or it’ll fall.”

you frowned, already bristling at the unsolicited advice. “it’s my castle. i know what i’m doing.”

he smirked, a small, superior thing that made your blood simmer even at that tender age. without asking, he began "fixing" it, his hands too rough as he demolished what you had so carefully crafted.

“stop!” you cried, shoving him back with all the strength your little body could muster. heeseung stumbled, landing awkwardly on the grass, but instead of being chastened, he merely laughed.

“see?” he said, gesturing at the collapsed sandcastle. “i told you it would fall.”

tears of frustration welled in your eyes as you glared at him. “you ruined it! i didn’t ask for your help!”

heeseung stood, dusting off his fine clothes, a boyish smirk still plastered on his face. “you should thank me. i was doing you a favour.”

from that day forward, any time your families met, it was as if an unspoken rule had been established—whenever you were in the same room, you and heeseung would find something to argue about. it didn’t matter if it was who deserved the biggest slice of cake or who could recite their latin conjugations faster; the two of you were constantly at odds.

as the years passed, your mutual disdain only deepened. by the time you were ten, heeseung had already earned a reputation as the golden boy of his kingdom, a future king who excelled in everything he touched. your own accomplishments were always impressive—your parents had ensured you were well-versed in languages, history, and the fine arts—but whenever heeseung was around, it felt as though all your achievements paled in comparison.

“did you hear?” one of your tutors asked one morning as you sat in the drawing room, diligently practising your embroidery. “prince heeseung has been awarded top marks in his studies again. he’s to receive a commendation from the royal academy.”

you didn’t look up, but your needle paused for the briefest of moments. “how wonderful for him,” you muttered, the words heavy with sarcasm.

that evening, at another royal banquet, you couldn’t help but bring up your own accomplishments, eager for even a crumb of recognition.

“i’ve been practising my archery,” you said proudly to the gathered guests, though your eyes couldn’t help but flick toward heeseung, who lounged nearby, looking as regal and aloof as ever. “i managed to hit the bullseye several times this week.”

heeseung glanced up lazily, catching your eye with that familiar, insufferable smirk. “impressive,” he said in a bored tone, “though archery isn’t quite the same as, say, fencing. that requires real skill.”

your fists clenched under the table, your pride wounded by his casual dismissal. but this was the way it always went. no matter what you did, heeseung always found a way to make it seem insignificant, as though he were the sun and you were merely a star dimmed by his brilliance.

by the time you were both teenagers, the animosity between you had grown more complicated, though no less intense. you found yourselves at the same royal gatherings, balls, and court functions, and each time, it was as if the entire room held its breath, waiting to see what you and heeseung would clash over next.

at one particularly grand ball, you had been feeling proud of your debut. you wore a gown of the finest silk, and you’d received more than a few admiring glances from the eligible noblemen in attendance. you were certain this was your night to shine—until heeseung approached.

“you look well enough,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge that set your teeth on edge. “though i hope you don’t trip during the quadrille like last time.”

your cheeks flushed, remembering all too well the minor misstep you’d taken at a previous ball. “i won’t,” you snapped, glaring at him. “and even if i did, it’s better than fencing yourself into a corner like you did at the tournament last month.”

his smile faltered for just a second, but that was enough to make you feel victorious.

yet, despite the constant barbs, there was something else simmering beneath the surface now—a tension you refused to name. you hated the way your heart raced whenever heeseung was near, the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of a room. and, though you’d never admit it, you hated even more that part of you missed the old days when your squabbles were simple, childish things.

it all changed the day your sister’s engagement to heeseung was announced. the prince who had been your lifelong nemesis was now to become your sister’s husband, the future king of your kingdom. it was a match made for political alliance, but it felt like a betrayal. you had expected more from him—well, not more kindness, but certainly more rebellion. yet, heeseung accepted the engagement with the same cool composure he did everything else.

for the first time in years, he stopped seeking you out, stopped picking those fights you had come to expect. he no longer bothered with sharp remarks or smug smiles. instead, he kept his distance, as though you were beneath his notice.

you told yourself it didn’t matter. after all, what did you care if heeseung ignored you now? he was going to be your brother-in-law, and that was enough reason to keep things civil. and yet, a strange, hollow feeling settled in your chest whenever you saw him and your sister together. he was colder now, more mature, but somehow more distant than ever.

little did you know, your rivalry with prince heeseung was far from over. if anything, it was only just beginning.

the night your world fell apart, it started with a simple knock on your chamber door. the palace had been abuzz with preparations—florists arranging garlands, tailors hemming gowns, and courtiers whispering about the grand union that would strengthen two kingdoms. you had spent the evening rehearsing your duties as maid of honour, biting back any remnants of bitterness that still clung to your feelings about the match. it didn’t matter that you had spent your entire life despising heeseung; your sister loved him, or at least, she was supposed to.

you were preparing to retire, brushing your hair by the dim glow of candlelight, when your sister slipped into the room, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. you’d never seen her look so frantic. your heart sank before she even said a word.

“i’m not going to marry him,” she whispered, wringing her hands in the folds of her silk nightgown. her voice trembled, but it was steady enough for you to know she wasn’t joking.

your heart lurched. “what are you talking about? the wedding is tomorrow!”

her wide eyes darted to the door as if she feared someone might overhear. she leaned in closer, gripping your wrist with trembling fingers. “i can’t marry heeseung,” she said urgently. “i don’t love him. i’m leaving tonight.”

the words hit you like a physical blow. “you’re what?”

“i’m eloping,” she said, her voice firmer now, as if saying it out loud gave her courage. “with lucien.”

lucien. you barely knew the man, a minor noble from another court, but he had charmed your sister quickly. he was handsome and witty, but far beneath her station. you stared at her, disbelief mixing with fury.

“lucien? are you mad? you can’t just abandon your duty for—”

“for love?” she interrupted, her voice rising in defiance. “yes, i can. i won’t be trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who cares nothing for me.”

you swallowed hard, your mind racing. heeseung, distant and cold as he had been with you, had shown no signs of affection for your sister either, but this was bigger than personal feelings. the marriage was political, a union meant to secure alliances, peace, and power. your sister fleeing would bring nothing but chaos.

“you’ll ruin everything,” you whispered, your voice thick with the weight of the consequences. “our families, the kingdoms—this is bigger than you.”

her eyes softened with a mix of guilt and determination. “i know. but i can’t live my life for duty, not like this.” she stood, gathering a small satchel you hadn’t noticed before, already packed and ready for her escape.

“you won’t stop me, will you?” she asked, her gaze pleading.

you wanted to scream, to shake her out of this madness, but your throat tightened. she was your sister. you loved her. and you knew, deep down, that nothing you said would change her mind.

“i should,” you said, your voice quiet, brittle. “but no. i won’t.”

your sister smiled, a fragile, relieved thing, before pulling you into a tight embrace. the hug felt final, like the end of something neither of you could come back from. when she finally let go, you stood frozen in the middle of her room as she slipped out the window and into the night, her footsteps fading into the shadows.

the palace remained blissfully unaware of the catastrophe until morning, when your mother’s scream shattered the early dawn peace.

the palace was in chaos the next morning. servants rushed through the halls, panic etched on their faces as whispers spread like wildfire—the bride had run away. you stayed in your chambers as long as possible, trying to gather your thoughts, your emotions, trying to prepare for the inevitable fallout.

when the summons came from your father, it felt like a death knell. the walk to the throne room felt endless, each step heavier than the last. the moment you stepped through the grand doors, you saw heeseung standing beside your parents. his face was a mask of icy calm, but his eyes…his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, cold and unforgiving.

he didn’t even glance at you as your father spoke.

“your sister has disgraced this family,” your father’s voice boomed, his tone laced with anger and disappointment. “but the marriage cannot be abandoned. the alliance with heeseung’s kingdom is too important.”

you stood still, your stomach churning as you braced for what was coming.

“therefore,” your father continued, his gaze hard as stone, “you will take her place.”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. you? marry heeseung? no, it wasn’t possible. you had spent your entire life in a silent war with him. the idea of marrying the man who had been your nemesis since childhood was unthinkable.

your mother’s voice, soft but firm, broke the silence. “the arrangements have already been made. the wedding will proceed as planned. you will become heeseung’s bride.”

“no.” the word slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your heart racing. “i can’t.”

your father’s eyes narrowed, and your mother’s expression hardened with disappointment. “you will do your duty,” your father said coldly. “this is not up for discussion.”

duty. it always came down to that. your entire life, you had been prepared for moments like this, but not this moment. not like this.

finally, you turned to heeseung, desperate for any sign of protest, for him to say something—anything—that would stop this madness. but he was silent. his face remained expressionless, as though none of this affected him. he looked at you as if you were just a piece of the puzzle, another part of the kingdom’s grand design.

“is that all i am to you?” you asked, your voice shaking. “just a replacement? a stand-in for the bride who ran away?”

for the first time, heeseung’s gaze met yours, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable, buried deep beneath the coldness. but his words cut through you like ice.

“you’re a princess,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “your role is to serve your kingdom. that’s all that matters.”

a bitter laugh escaped your throat. “you’ve hated me for years, heeseung. and now you expect me to just—what? pretend none of that matters?”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. instead, he turned away, his indifference stinging more than any of the insults you had traded over the years.

your father spoke again, his tone final. “the marriage will happen. prepare yourself.”

the grand hall was suffused with the glow of flickering candles and soft sunlight filtering through stained glass windows. the scent of fresh roses—your sister’s favourite, not yours—hung heavily in the air, mocking the gravity of the moment. you stood at the entrance of the hall, your hands clenched so tightly around the bouquet that your knuckles were white. the murmurs of the courtiers echoed around you, a constant hum of speculation and judgement. no matter how well you carried yourself today, the whispers wouldn’t stop.

the switch of the bride was the scandal of the century, and you were at the centre of it.

ahead of you, heeseung stood tall, his face as unreadable as stone. the same detachment was in his eyes, his expression cool and composed as if this marriage was merely another political manoeuvre for him, another step toward the throne. he didn’t look at you with warmth, or even a hint of care. to him, you weren’t his wife—you were the replacement for the woman who had run away.

you walked down the aisle, every step heavier than the last, the reality of your situation crushing you. heeseung’s gaze was steady as you approached, but it wasn’t the gaze of a man looking at his bride. it was a look of cold calculation, a man who had resigned himself to duty.

when you finally reached him, your heart thudding loudly in your chest, you barely registered the priest's words. the vows—sacred, binding—felt hollow, like a cruel twist of fate. how could you stand here, repeating the words meant for your sister? they weren't meant for you. you were never supposed to be the bride.

heeseung took your hand, and the warmth of his skin was a sharp contrast to the chill that ran down your spine. his grip was firm, not gentle, but not cruel either—just dutiful. he spoke his vows with a steady voice, each word sounding rehearsed, as though they meant nothing to him beyond their formality.

and then it was your turn. you hesitated, the weight of the kingdom on your shoulders, your pulse quickening. your voice trembled slightly as you repeated the vows, feeling the eyes of everyone in the hall on you—expecting you to fulfil your role, to be the perfect princess. you could barely choke out the words, but somehow, you managed. and with every word, you felt the invisible chains of your new life tightening around you.

when the priest finally pronounced you husband and wife, heeseung’s lips brushed yours in the briefest of kisses—so cold and devoid of feeling that it felt more like a business transaction than the union of two people. the cheers of the court erupted around you, but in that moment, the applause sounded like the closing of a cage. you were trapped, bound to him, to this life.

as you turned to leave the altar, heeseung offered his arm, the tension between you palpable. his eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, but there was no warmth there. just that cold, resigned look you had grown accustomed to. you were both playing your roles, just as you had been trained to do your whole lives.

but this wasn’t a game. this was your future, and it felt like a noose tightening around your neck.

the wedding feast had been a blur—a cacophony of forced smiles, hollow congratulations, and polite toasts that masked the underlying tension. you had barely spoken a word to heeseung throughout the entire affair. he hadn’t made any attempt to speak to you either, remaining as distant and composed as ever.

now, as you stood alone in the chambers that were to be yours and heeseung’s, the reality of your new life settled heavily on your chest. the palace chambers were far too quiet, the air thick with the tension that had been building between you and heeseung for years. as you stood in the centre of the room, staring at the enormous bed draped in rich fabrics, it felt like the walls were closing in. the room was elegantly decorated—ornate tapestries hung on the walls, and the grand four-poster bed was fit for a queen. but none of it mattered. the splendour felt like a mockery of the situation you found yourself in. tonight, this room was not a sanctuary but a gilded cage.

your breath caught in your throat as the door creaked open. heeseung entered, his presence commanding even in the subdued candlelight. the tension between you was palpable, stretching like a thin, fragile thread that could snap at any moment. his gaze flicked toward you briefly, but he didn’t speak, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

heeseung moved with practised grace, his movements calm and deliberate. he began undoing the buttons on his ceremonial jacket, the fine fabric sliding off his shoulders and landing in a careless heap on the chair by the vanity. you stood frozen, unsure of what to say, what to do. this wasn’t how you had imagined a wedding night would feel—though you had never dreamed this night would be with heeseung, of all people.

his back was to you now, his broad shoulders tense, though he did nothing to betray any emotion. you could feel the distance between you both, even though he was just across the room. heeseung had always been composed, guarded, but tonight, his coldness cut even deeper than usual.

he finally broke the silence, his voice low but steady. “it’s late. you should rest.” there was no affection in his tone, just the same sense of duty that had hung over the entire day. you weren’t his bride by choice, and he wasn’t your husband by desire.

you bit back a bitter laugh. rest? as if you could simply close your eyes and pretend this was normal. pretend that this marriage was something other than a trap. “is that it, then?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended. “we go to bed and pretend everything is fine?”

heeseung turned to face you, his expression as unreadable as ever. he didn’t answer right away, as if weighing his response carefully. “what do you want me to say?” his tone was measured, but there was an edge to it, a hint of frustration that matched your own.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. i wasn’t supposed to marry you.”

something flickered in heeseung’s eyes, though it disappeared as quickly as it came. he regarded you for a moment, his gaze unreadable, before he spoke again. “do you think i wanted this?” his words were quiet but laced with a bitterness that surprised you. “i didn’t ask for this any more than you did.”

you swallowed, feeling a lump rise in your throat. you hadn’t expected this admission from him, hadn’t expected him to show any vulnerability. “then what are we supposed to do?” your voice was softer now, the anger ebbing away, replaced by uncertainty. “how are we supposed to live like this?”

heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, a rare moment of frustration breaking through his calm facade. “we do what’s expected of us,” he said, though there was a heaviness to his words, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “we fulfill our duties. that’s all we can do.”

“duties.” the word tasted bitter on your tongue. it had always come down to that, hadn’t it? duty to the crown, to the kingdom, to your family. and now, duty to heeseung.

the silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable. heeseung turned away, moving toward the window where the heavy drapes framed the view of the darkened palace gardens. his silhouette was stark against the faint glow of moonlight, his posture stiff, almost defensive.

after a long moment, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. “i’ll sleep over there.” he gestured to the chaise near the window, a fine piece of furniture that now seemed woefully out of place in this awkward, tension-filled room. “you can have the bed.”

you blinked, surprised by his offer. it was the last thing you expected from him, but it was a relief nonetheless. “you don’t have to—”

“i’m not doing this for you,” he interrupted, his voice firm, but not unkind. “i just don’t want to make this any more difficult than it already is.”

with that, he moved toward the chaise, gathering a pillow and blanket from the wardrobe. his actions were efficient, almost mechanical, as if he had already resigned himself to this fate. he didn’t look at you as he arranged the blanket over the chaise.

you stood there, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, awkwardness, and something else, something heavier that you couldn’t quite place. this was your wedding night, but it was nothing like you had ever imagined. there was no closeness, no warmth—just two people bound together by obligation and circumstance.

finally, you moved toward the bed, the thick carpets muffling your steps. the soft fabric of your gown felt heavy as you climbed beneath the covers, though they provided no comfort. you lay there, staring up at the intricate canopy above, your mind racing. this bed, this room—none of it felt like yours.

heeseung settled on the chaise, his back to you, the distance between you both feeling vast despite the small room. the silence was oppressive, each second dragging on longer than the last. you wondered if he was as uneasy as you were, or if he had already steeled himself to this new reality.

for a long while, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the faint rustling of fabric as you shifted beneath the covers. the weight of the day, of the vows, of your new title, pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

finally, you couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “heeseung,” you whispered, unsure if you even wanted him to respond.

he didn’t turn, but his voice was low and steady when he answered. “what?”

you hesitated, searching for the right words. “do you think... do you think this will ever get easier?”

there was a long pause before he responded, his voice quiet, almost resigned. “i don’t know.”

and with that, the conversation ended. heeseung remained silent, his back still turned to you, and you knew there was nothing more to say. you turned onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you, though they offered little warmth. the room felt too big, too empty, despite his presence.

eventually, exhaustion crept in, dulling the sharp edges of your thoughts. but even as sleep began to claim you, a cold, sinking feeling settled in your chest. this was your life now—bound to a man you barely knew, a man who had been your enemy for years, and yet, somehow, your husband.

and as you drifted off into uneasy sleep, the last thought that crossed your mind was how strange it felt to be lying just feet away from heeseung, yet feeling as though he was a world away.

the morning after the wedding dawned cold and gray, mirroring the lingering tension between you and heeseung. you woke up in the large, empty bed, the space next to you untouched, a stark reminder of the distance that had been established on your wedding night. the air in the room felt thick, suffocating, as if the very walls were pressing in on you, reminding you of your new reality.

as you sat up, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings only worsened the tightness in your chest. this was your new life. not just this bed, but this room, this palace—heeseung’s palace—and you would share it with a man who barely spoke to you, who looked at you with that same cold distance he had always shown.

you dressed quickly, your movements mechanical, trying not to think too much. the maids moved around you silently, well-trained and efficient, but you could feel their eyes on you. it was impossible to escape the fact that everyone knew. the entire kingdom knew the story—the princess who had run away, and her sister forced to take her place. the whispers would never stop.

when you finally made your way downstairs to the grand dining room, heeseung was already seated at the long table, a plate of food in front of him. he didn’t look up when you entered, simply continued cutting into his meal with precise, practised movements. you hesitated for a moment, then took your seat across from him.

the silence was unbearable.

you picked at your food, barely tasting it, glancing at heeseung from time to time. his expression was as unreadable as ever, his attention focused on the papers beside his plate—likely matters of the kingdom that required his attention. he was already immersed in his duties, the weight of his impending kingship pressing down on him just as heavily as your new role as his wife weighed on you.

finally, you couldn’t stand it any longer. “do you plan to ignore me for the rest of our lives?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

heeseung didn’t look up immediately, taking his time to finish his bite and set down his utensils with deliberate care. when he finally met your gaze, his expression was cool, detached. “i’m not ignoring you.”

you scoffed, unable to hide your frustration. “you’ve barely spoken to me since the wedding.”

he raised an eyebrow, his tone as calm as ever. “what would you like me to say?”

the question took you off guard. you hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. you opened your mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to respond. what did you want him to say? that he regretted everything as much as you did? that he hated this arrangement, too? or perhaps you wanted him to acknowledge the years of bitterness between you, to admit that this marriage was a farce.

instead, you said, “we’re married now, heeseung. we have to live together. we can’t keep pretending the other doesn’t exist.”

his jaw tightened ever so slightly, but his voice remained calm. “i’m aware of that.”

you waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. the silence stretched on once again, thicker than before, suffocating in its awkwardness. you pushed your plate away, no longer interested in eating. “fine,” you muttered under your breath, standing abruptly. “i suppose i’ll just get used to it, then.”

you turned to leave, but his voice stopped you. “you don’t have to like this any more than i do, but we have responsibilities now.”

you paused, your back to him, your hands clenched at your sides. “responsibilities,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. it seemed like that was all your life had ever been reduced to—duty, obligation, and responsibilities.

without another word, you left the dining room, the heavy doors closing behind you with a soft thud. you could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on you even more as you walked through the halls of the palace, each step echoing in the vast emptiness. you weren’t just trapped in this marriage—you were trapped in this life.

days passed, and though you and heeseung were forced to share the same space, your interactions remained minimal, stilted. in the mornings, you would find him already at the breakfast table, poring over documents and barely acknowledging your presence. he would spend his days attending council meetings and handling matters of state, leaving you to navigate the palace on your own, feeling more like a guest in your own home than its mistress.

at night, he would retire to the chambers late, often when you were already lying in bed, pretending to sleep. he would quietly take his place on the chaise near the window, far enough away to avoid any awkwardness, but close enough that his presence was a constant reminder of the divide between you.

it was during these nights that the loneliness settled in most heavily. the silence of the room, broken only by the occasional rustling of fabric or the soft crackle of the fireplace, was suffocating. you had grown accustomed to sleeping alone, but now, knowing heeseung was just a few feet away, the distance between you felt almost unbearable. there was an unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to bridge the gap.

one evening, after yet another day of awkward meals and tense silences, you found yourself in the library, one of the few places in the palace where you felt at peace. the vast room was filled with shelves upon shelves of books, their spines worn and familiar. you had always loved to read, finding solace in the stories and histories of others when your own life felt too overwhelming.

you were seated by the window, the late afternoon sun casting a soft glow over the pages of your book, when the door creaked open. you looked up, surprised to see heeseung standing in the doorway. he paused for a moment, as if uncertain whether to enter or leave, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on you.

“may i join you?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.

you blinked, caught off guard by his request. this was the first time he had sought you out since the wedding, and the suddenness of it left you momentarily speechless. you nodded, unsure of what else to do. “of course.”

heeseung crossed the room, moving with his usual grace, and took a seat in the armchair opposite you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet of the library enveloping you both. he seemed content to sit in silence, his gaze wandering to the bookshelves that lined the walls.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. “this is... one of the quieter rooms.”

you raised an eyebrow, a small, incredulous smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “it’s a library, heeseung. of course it’s quiet.”

to your surprise, he chuckled softly, though it was a dry, humourless sound. “fair enough.”

silence fell again, but this time it wasn’t as suffocating. there was something almost... peaceful about it, the weight of your shared presence not as unbearable as it had been before. you watched him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how tired he looked. the weight of his responsibilities was evident in the slight furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders sagged ever so slightly.

after a while, you set your book down on your lap, deciding to break the silence. “it must be difficult,” you said quietly. “taking on so much.”

heeseung didn’t answer right away, his gaze still focused on the shelves, but eventually, he nodded. “it is.”

you hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, softer this time. “you don’t have to carry it all alone, you know.”

he turned to look at you then, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something softer than the cold indifference you had grown accustomed to.

“and what would you suggest?” he asked, his voice quiet but not unkind.

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “but we’re in this together, whether we like it or not.”

heeseung’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. it wasn’t much, but it was the first step—however small—toward something more than just forced cohabitation.

the shift in your relationship came faster than you expected. it started with a challenge—a reckless, unspoken dare that neither of you could resist.

it had been a clear, crisp day, the first after several weeks of rain. you were restless, tired of the palace walls and the constant burden of your new role. you had gone to the stables, hoping to take one of the horses out for a ride, needing to feel the wind in your hair and the ground beneath you. but when you arrived, heeseung was already there, adjusting the reins of his own horse.

you paused in the doorway, surprised to see him. “you ride?”

he glanced up, one eyebrow raised. “you sound surprised.”

“i am,” you admitted. “i’ve never seen you ride before.”

he chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and you couldn’t resist rising to it. “care to prove it?” you asked, moving toward your own horse.

heeseung’s smirk widened. “what do you have in mind?”

you mounted your horse swiftly, the thrill of the challenge already coursing through your veins. “a race.”

heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “you think you can beat me?”

“i know i can,” you shot back, turning your horse toward the open field beyond the stables.

without another word, you spurred your horse into motion, not waiting for his response. behind you, you heard heeseung’s laughter, low and rich, before the sound of hooves thundering against the ground told you he had accepted the challenge.

you raced through the fields, the wind whipping through your hair, the thrill of the chase making your heart race. heeseung was right behind you, and you could feel the tension building, the competitive edge between you sparking like fire. it was like being children again, challenging each other at every turn, pushing each other to the limit.

but this time, it was different. the stakes were higher, the tension thicker, and the way heeseung looked at you when he finally caught up to you sent a shiver down your spine.

when he finally pulled his horse beside yours, you were both breathless, your faces flushed with adrenaline. you glanced over at him, and the look in his eyes—intense, dark, heated—made your pulse quicken.

“not bad,” he said, his voice low, rough around the edges.

you smirked, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “you almost kept up.”

heeseung leaned in just slightly, his gaze locking with yours. “almost?” he murmured, his voice sending a jolt through you.

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. the space between you was too close, the air charged with something you weren’t quite ready to name. his eyes lingered on your lips for just a moment too long, and you could feel the heat of his presence, the tension that had always existed between you now manifesting in a way that was far more dangerous.

before either of you could say anything, heeseung pulled back, his smirk returning as if nothing had happened. “we’ll call it a draw,” he said, though there was a teasing edge to his voice.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, shaking your head with a laugh. “you wish.”

but as you rode back to the palace, the tension between you remained, simmering beneath the surface. it was no longer the resentment of old enemies, but something far more complex, far more dangerous. and for the first time, you found yourself wondering what would happen if that tension ever boiled over.

later that night, the air was thick with the remnants of the day’s energy. you couldn’t sleep, your mind still racing from the ride and the way heeseung had looked at you—how close he had come, how your heart had nearly betrayed you in that moment of suspended anticipation.

you wandered the halls of the palace aimlessly, your footsteps soft against the marble floors. the palace at night was a different place, quiet and still, the shadows long and heavy. it felt like a place where secrets lingered in every corner, where the walls whispered of things that could never be said aloud.

as you passed by the study, you noticed the faint glow of light beneath the door. curiosity piqued, you pushed the door open just enough to peek inside. heeseung was there, seated at the desk, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. he was reading, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips slightly parted as he focused on the page in front of him.

you hesitated, but before you could turn away, he looked up, catching sight of you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. then, without breaking eye contact, heeseung set the book aside.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low, intimate in the quiet of the room.

you shook your head, stepping into the room. “no. you?”

heeseung’s gaze flicked over you, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin heat under his scrutiny. “i’ve been thinking,” he said, his tone soft but laced with that same dangerous tension that had been building all day.

“about what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved closer, drawn to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. “about you,” he said quietly. “about us.”

the weight of his words settled in the space between you, thick and intoxicating. about you. about us. it echoed in your mind, stirring something deep within you that you had tried to ignore for far too long. you weren’t sure if it was the late hour, the dim candlelight, or the fact that you had been dancing around each other for weeks now, but something inside you snapped.

your breath hitched as you looked at him, his eyes dark and full of something you couldn’t quite name. but it was there—undeniable, pulsing in the space between you. and now that it had been spoken into existence, you couldn’t unsee it.

“what about us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. it was a challenge.

heeseung’s gaze flicked to your lips, and the tension in the room intensified, coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like the air itself might shatter from the pressure. he stood slowly, his movements deliberate, and took a step toward you, closing the already-small distance between you.

“there’s always been something between us,” he said, his voice low, rough. his eyes never left yours, burning with intensity. “even when we hated each other.”

your heart was pounding now, so loud you were sure he could hear it. you wanted to deny it, to tell him that he was wrong, that it had always been pure hatred. but that would’ve been a lie. you knew it as well as he did—whatever had always been there between you, it had never been simple.

“and what is it now?” you asked, forcing yourself to meet his gaze even though every instinct told you to look away. to run.

heeseung took another step closer, his hand reaching up slowly, as though giving you the chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. his fingers brushed against your cheek, the touch so light it sent a shiver down your spine. his hand lingered there, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

“maybe we’ve been fighting the wrong battle,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. the warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, and you felt your pulse quicken.

your throat tightened. every word he said felt like a dangerous line, one that you were teetering on the edge of crossing. the tension between you had always been a fire—burning too hot, too fast. and now, it felt like it was about to consume you both.

heeseung’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and your breath caught in your throat. his touch was tentative, as though he wasn’t quite sure if this was real or if you would pull away at any moment.

but you didn’t.

instead, you took a step closer, closing the gap completely. the air between you was charged, thick with unspoken desire and the weight of all the years you had spent fighting against each other. your body was betraying you, leaning into him, drawn by a force you had denied for too long.

heeseung’s eyes darkened as he leaned in, his lips barely an inch from yours, the heat between you almost unbearable now. you could feel the tension in every muscle, the way his hand trembled slightly as it cupped your cheek, the way your own body was responding without your permission.

then, in a breathless moment that felt like it stretched on forever, he closed the distance.

his lips pressed against yours—soft at first, testing, as though he wasn’t sure you would let him. but the moment your lips met his, something ignited between you. the kiss deepened, filled with all the pent-up frustration and longing that had been building for so long. it was a clash of emotions—anger, desire, need—all colliding in that single moment.

you responded instantly, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. the kiss was rough, almost desperate, as though you were both trying to make up for years of missed chances in that single moment.

his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you gasped against his lips at the feeling of his body pressed so close to yours. the intensity of it was overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop. you didn’t want to think. you just wanted to feel.

but then, as quickly as it started, heeseung pulled back, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours. his hands still gripped your waist, holding you in place as though he couldn’t quite let go yet.

“this isn’t... what i expected,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. his breath was warm against your skin, and his eyes searched yours, as though he was looking for an answer in your gaze.

you swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. “what did you expect?” you asked softly, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

heeseung’s grip on your waist tightened for a moment, his eyes darkening once again. “i didn’t expect you to feel this way.” his voice was low, almost a growl, filled with the same intensity that had been building between you all night.

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. you had no idea what to say, no idea how to explain the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you. all you knew was that everything had changed in that kiss.

“i don’t know what i feel,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible in the heavy silence of the room.

heeseung’s lips twitched into a small, almost sad smile. “neither do i.” he stepped back, finally breaking the physical contact between you, and you immediately missed the warmth of his body against yours.

“but whatever this is... it’s dangerous,” he continued, his eyes locked on yours, as though warning you. “we’ve always been enemies. we don’t know how to be anything else.”

you felt a lump form in your throat at his words, because deep down, you knew he was right. but that didn’t stop the ache in your chest, the desire for something more—for the possibility of what could be.

“i don’t want to be your enemy anymore,” you said softly, the confession surprising even you.

heeseung’s eyes widened slightly at your words, his expression unreadable. for a moment, you thought he might say something—might admit that he didn’t want to be your enemy either. but then, he shook his head, the walls between you coming back up, brick by brick.

“this doesn’t change anything,” he said quietly, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

and with that, he turned and left the room, leaving you standing there in the soft glow of candlelight, your heart pounding and your mind reeling from the kiss that had shifted the entire balance between you.

as the door closed softly behind him, you exhaled a shaky breath, your fingers brushing your lips where his had been moments before.

everything had changed.

the royal court was buzzing with tension, and for once, the tension wasn’t between you and heeseung. the kingdom was on edge, not from war or rebellion, but from something far more insidious—political manoeuvring. rival noble houses were plotting against heeseung’s rule, questioning his right to ascend to the throne, especially after the sudden marriage to you. the whispers had grown louder over the past few weeks, the courtiers’ gazes sharper, waiting for the first misstep.

you had known court life would be full of power plays and alliances, but this was different. it was personal. every snide comment, every hushed conversation behind closed doors, felt like an attack on your marriage, on your family’s legacy. and worst of all, it felt like an attack on you.

one afternoon, as you made your way through the palace corridors, you overheard a group of nobles—close to your family—voicing their displeasure over your sudden marriage to heeseung. it was the same old song—how your sister should have been the bride, how you were never meant for this role, how heeseung marrying you was a strategic disaster.

you felt your blood run cold, but you kept walking, your head held high. you had grown used to these remarks, but today, they stung deeper. not because they questioned your worth, but because they reflected the deep-seated insecurity you had always carried.

that night, you found yourself alone in the study, staring out the window at the darkening sky. the weight of the court’s judgement, the impossible standards, the constant comparisons to your sister—they were suffocating. and then there was heeseung, whose coldness had thawed just enough to show you glimpses of something deeper, something real. but he was still heeseung—your husband, your childhood rival, and now the man who held your future in his hands.

the door creaked open behind you, and you didn’t need to turn to know it was him. you had grown attuned to his presence, the way the air shifted whenever he entered a room.

“what’s wrong?” his voice was quieter than usual, but still carrying that edge of command. he always knew when something was off, as if he could sense the turmoil swirling inside you.

you didn’t answer immediately, your gaze fixed on the stars outside. “they’re saying we’re not suited for each other,” you murmured, finally turning to face him. “that i’m not fit to be queen. that you made a mistake.”

heeseung’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in that familiar way, but this time, it wasn’t directed at you.

“let them talk,” he said flatly. “they’re just waiting for us to fail.”

“and what if they’re right?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, the fear and doubt bubbling to the surface. “i was never meant to marry you. this isn’t the life i was prepared for.”

heeseung stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. then, to your surprise, he closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“i didn’t choose you because you were an easy choice,” he said, his voice low but intense. “i chose you because you’re stronger than you realise.”

you blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his words. heeseung wasn’t one to offer praise lightly, and hearing it now, in this moment, felt more intimate than anything he had ever said to you before.

“there are plenty of people who want to see us fail,” he continued, his grip tightening slightly. “but they don’t matter. what matters is that we don’t give them the satisfaction. we fight together.”

the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you saw beyond the cold exterior he had always shown you. there was something deeper there, something raw and unspoken. a partnership.

but the closeness also brought something else—a heat that had always been there between you, simmering beneath the surface. his hands lingered on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above your collarbone, and suddenly the room felt smaller, the air thicker.

“you think i’m strong?” you asked, your voice quieter now, tinged with something more vulnerable. something real.

heeseung’s gaze flicked down to your lips, just for a moment, before returning to your eyes. his voice was rough when he spoke, low and filled with an unspoken promise. “i’ve always known.”

the charged air between you was impossible to ignore now. his fingers slid from your shoulders to your arms, the touch sending a jolt of warmth through you. it wasn’t just the weight of responsibility pressing down on you—it was him, his closeness, the undeniable pull you had both been dancing around for weeks.

you could feel the tension in every inch of your body, your heart racing as heeseung’s hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer, but still leaving just enough space for doubt. he hesitated, as if waiting for you to push him away, to remind him of the enmity that had defined your relationship for so long.

but you didn’t. instead, you leaned into him, your hands tentatively reaching up to rest on his chest. the fabric of his shirt was soft under your fingers, but beneath it, you could feel the steady beat of his heart, as rapid as your own.

“maybe i’ve been wrong about you,” you whispered, your breath hitching as the tension between you reached a breaking point.

heeseung’s eyes darkened at your words, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “maybe you have,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. but there was something softer there too, something almost tender.

before you could talk yourself out of it, you closed the distance between you and kissed him.

the kiss was like nothing you had ever experienced—fierce, desperate, and full of the years of unresolved tension between you. it was as if all the walls you had built around yourselves were crumbling in an instant, leaving nothing but the raw, undeniable attraction that had always simmered beneath the surface.

heeseung responded instantly, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

it was overwhelming, the intensity of the moment, the way your bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, the way every touch sent a shockwave of desire coursing through you. you had spent so long fighting him, fighting this, and now, as his hands slid up your back, holding you close, you wondered why you had ever resisted.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. heeseung’s grip on your waist didn’t loosen, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat as wild as your own.

“we can’t keep pretending,” you whispered, your voice shaky, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, the vulnerability and uncertainty in his gaze mirroring your own. “no, we can’t,” he agreed, his voice rough with emotion.

for a moment, the world hung in the balance. you had crossed a line, and there was no going back. everything between you had shifted, and the question now wasn’t whether you would move forward—it was how.

heeseung’s thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch so tender it nearly broke you. “we’re in this together,” he said softly, the weight of his words heavy with meaning.

this time, there was no need to say anything more. you both understood what had changed between you, even if neither of you was ready to fully admit it. and though the path ahead was uncertain, you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t facing it alone anymore.

weeks passed, and with each passing day, things between you and heeseung slowly shifted. the cold, sharp walls that had once kept you apart were crumbling, revealing a warmth and understanding that neither of you had anticipated. where there had once been biting words and icy glares, there was now laughter, quiet conversations, and small gestures of affection.

the palace felt different. it was lighter now, with the growing sense of partnership between you and heeseung. your bickering had been replaced with genuine care, and though the wounds of the past hadn't fully healed, you were both learning to forgive. but it wasn’t just the emotional connection that was shifting—there was something deeper brewing beneath the surface. unspoken feelings, simmering tension.

it wasn’t until a grand banquet in honour of a visiting prince from a neighbouring kingdom that these feelings came to a head. you stood at the centre of the ballroom, dressed in a gown that glimmered under the candlelight. it hugged your figure perfectly, catching the attention of more than just heeseung. the prince—prince seojun—had been particularly charming throughout the evening, his eyes lingering on you a little too long, his compliments a little too bold.

“you are by far the most captivating presence in this room, your highness,” seojun murmured, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “if i had known such beauty awaited me here, i would have visited sooner.”

you laughed politely, glancing over your shoulder, searching for heeseung in the crowd. he was across the room, deep in conversation with some nobles, but even from the distance, you could feel his gaze on you, sharp and intense.

seojun continued, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he leaned closer. “perhaps we could steal a moment away from the crowd? i would love to know more about the woman behind such an enchanting smile.”

before you could respond, a sudden shift in the air caught your attention. heeseung appeared at your side, his posture tense, his expression a mix of barely contained irritation and something else—something more possessive.

“princess,” heeseung’s voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous edge to it. his hand slid around your waist, pulling you firmly against his side. the claim was unmistakable. “i believe your dance card is full for the evening.”

seojun’s smirk faltered slightly as he glanced between the two of you, sensing the tension. heeseung’s eyes never left the prince, cold and unyielding.

“of course,” seojun replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i wouldn’t dream of overstepping. after all,” his gaze flickered to you, then back to heeseung, “she’s your wife.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, charged with unspoken meaning. seojun bowed slightly, a smirk still playing on his lips, before taking his leave. but even as he walked away, you could feel the lingering weight of his gaze.

you turned to heeseung, about to make a light-hearted remark about the interaction, but the look on his face stopped you. his eyes were dark, his jaw clenched, and his grip on your waist was firm—almost possessive.

“did he touch you?” heeseung asked, his voice low and tight.

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by his tone. “barely,” you replied, trying to play it off with a soft laugh. “why? are you jealous?”

his eyes flickered with something dangerous as he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “you’re my wife. i don’t like other men thinking they can take what’s mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words. the possessiveness in his tone, the way his body pressed protectively against yours—it was unlike anything you had ever experienced with heeseung. you had always seen him as cold, distant, but this... this was different. there was fire in his eyes, and you could feel it burning between you, a tension that neither of you had acknowledged until now.

“and what if i enjoy a little attention now and then?” you teased, testing the boundaries, wanting to see how far he would go.

heeseung’s eyes darkened even more, and in one swift motion, he pulled you even closer, his hand cupping the back of your neck as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “i don’t care how many men look at you, but remember this—” his voice dropped, sending shivers down your spine, “you belong to me and i belong to you.”

a thrill ran through you at his words, and for a moment, you were speechless, your mind spinning from the intensity of his claim. the ballroom, the crowd, even prince seojun—all of it faded away as heeseung’s gaze held you captive. you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the possessiveness in his touch, and for the first time, you realised that this wasn’t just some marriage of convenience anymore.

heeseung cared—more than he was willing to admit.

your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the emotions flickering behind them. “and what about you, heeseung?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “do you want me to be yours?”

his eyes softened for just a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “you already are,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “and i’m not letting you forget it.”

the banquet had left the air between you and heeseung charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore. his possessiveness, the fierce look in his eyes when he claimed you as his wife in front of prince seojun, had stirred something inside you—something that had been simmering for far too long.

as the last of the guests departed and the palace quieted down for the night, the tension remained, lingering like an unspoken promise. heeseung walked beside you in silence as you both made your way through the dimly lit corridors toward your chambers. though no words passed between you, the air was thick with anticipation, the unspoken pull between you stronger than ever.

when you reached your shared chambers, heeseung opened the door for you, his gaze never leaving you as you stepped inside. you could feel his eyes on you, burning with a need that matched your own. the soft glow of the candlelight cast long shadows across the room, but all you could focus on was the man standing behind you, his presence overwhelming.

you moved toward the vanity, fingers trembling slightly as you began to remove your jewellery. you were acutely aware of heeseung standing behind you, the weight of his gaze almost tangible as he watched your every movement. his silence spoke volumes, filled with desire and unspoken emotions that neither of you had fully confronted until now.

the tension was unbearable. finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, you glanced at him through the reflection in the mirror, your voice soft but steady. “you’ve been quiet,” you murmured, meeting his intense gaze. “what’s on your mind?”

he didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush against the bare skin of your shoulder. the touch was light, tentative, but it sent a shiver down your spine. his fingers lingered, tracing the delicate curve of your shoulder before he leaned in, his breath warm against your neck.

“i didn’t like how he looked at you,” heeseung finally admitted, his voice low and rough with suppressed emotion. his eyes met yours in the mirror, dark with jealousy and something more—something deeper. “or the way he made you laugh.”

your heart raced at the possessiveness in his tone. you turned to face him, taking in the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes blazed with something primal. his emotions were raw, laid bare before you in a way that heeseung had never allowed himself to show before.

“it was harmless,” you replied, stepping closer to him, your voice softening. “but i can’t say i minded the way you stepped in.”

his gaze darkened, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. you could feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, the hard lines of his frame pressing against your softness. his eyes locked onto yours, filled with unspoken desire, but also with something more—something tender.

“i’m not the kind of man who likes to share,” he said, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “especially not when it comes to you.”

your breath hitched at his words, your pulse quickening as the fire between you flared even hotter. you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at his possessive tone, the way his hands gripped you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“and what are you going to do about it?” you whispered, your voice daring, testing the boundaries as your lips brushed his, teasingly close but not quite touching.

heeseung’s response was immediate. his lips crashed against yours, fierce and hungry, as if he had been holding back for far too long. the kiss was searing, filled with all the emotions you had both kept hidden. his hands roamed over your body, possessive yet tender, as though he was staking his claim but also worshipping every inch of you.

you responded just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. the tension between you, the unspoken desire, it all poured out in that kiss, in the way his body pressed against yours with a need that matched your own.

heeseung’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you toward the bed. the air between you was electric, charged with desire and the intensity of emotions that neither of you had allowed to surface until now. he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze dark and filled with a hunger that made your heart race.

for a moment, he paused, his fingers brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just passed between you. his eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability behind them—the raw emotion that he had been hiding behind his cold exterior for so long.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky but laced with care, as if he was giving you one last chance to pull away, to stop this before it went too far.

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with the overwhelming emotions coursing through you. heeseung, the man you had once considered your rival, your enemy, was now looking at you with a tenderness that took your breath away. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek.

“i’m sure,” you whispered, pulling him down into another kiss, softer this time, but no less filled with the emotions swirling between you.

what followed was slow, deliberate, and filled with a tenderness that you had never expected from heeseung. his hands moved over your body with care, as though he was savouring every touch, every breath. the fierceness from earlier softened into something more intimate, more meaningful, as he explored you with reverence, his lips following the path of his hands.

your name fell from his lips like a prayer, whispered against your skin in the quiet moments between kisses. heeseung’s touch was both possessive and gentle, as though he was claiming you but also offering himself to you in return. the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, but it was the tenderness in his gaze, the softness of his touch, that made your heart ache with something deeper than mere desire.

and as the night stretched on, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, you realised that this wasn’t just about passion—it was about the connection you had been fighting against for so long. the rivalry, the bickering, the walls you had both built between you—it all crumbled away, leaving only the raw truth of what you felt for one another.

when it was over, you lay beside each other, your breathing heavy, your bodies tangled in the sheets. the room was quiet now, the only sound was the soft rustle of the fabric and the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth.

heeseung turned to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. his eyes, once so cold and guarded, were warm now, filled with an emotion that made your heart skip a beat. he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. it was comforting, grounding you in the quiet aftermath of everything that had just passed between you. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, soothing and gentle, as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

neither of you spoke, but words weren’t necessary. the silence was filled with a sense of peace, of contentment that neither of you had known before. heeseung’s touch was soft now, filled with care as he held you close, his body warm and protective against yours.

and in that quiet, intimate moment, you realised something: this was more than just passion, more than just desire. it was something real, something lasting.

heeseung’s hand continued to trace gentle patterns on your back, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered softly, “are you alright?”

you smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with warmth at the tenderness in his voice. “more than alright,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him.

heeseung let out a soft sigh, his arms tightening around you as if he never wanted to let go. and as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the weight of the past finally lifted, leaving only the warmth of the present and the promise of a future you were both ready to embrace.

the next morning, you woke to find heeseung already up, standing by the window of your shared chambers, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the early morning light. he looked deep in thought, his expression pensive as he gazed out over the kingdom.

quietly, you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he stiffened for a moment at the contact but quickly relaxed, his hands covering yours as he let out a soft sigh.

“you’re up early,” you murmured, resting your cheek against his back.

“i couldn’t sleep,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “i was thinking about everything that’s changed.”

you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “a lot has changed, hasn’t it?”

heeseung turned in your arms, his expression soft as he looked down at you. “i never thought this would work,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “but i’m glad i was wrong.”

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with warmth. the man standing before you was the same heeseung you had known all your life, but now, you saw him for who he truly was—not your enemy, not your rival, but your partner. your husband.

“i’m glad too,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips.

and in that moment, you knew that this was your new beginning. the past, with all its bitterness and tension, was behind you. what lay ahead was a future you hadn’t expected but one you were ready to embrace—together.

as heeseung pulled you into a gentle kiss, the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the window, you knew that this was the start of something beautiful. your marriage, once forged out of obligation and resentment, had grown into something real, something lasting.

and as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realised that sometimes, the best love stories were the ones you never saw coming.

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d1stalker · 1 month

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The Feeling's Mutual | Part One

[Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader]

Summary: If somebody told you a week ago that you were a mutant, being stalked, and would be teaming up with an annoying, grumbly bastard, you probably would have laughed in their face. Too bad that was last week, because here you are, in that very situation, wondering how in the world things escalated so quickly.

PART TWO PART THREE FINAL PART

Warnings: fem!reader, canon-level violence, reluctant alliance, bickering, not exactly enemies-to-lovers but they don't rly get along, it's gonna be a slow burn y'all WC: 5.7k - MASTERLIST - A/N: If you saw me post this earlier, no you didn't 🤫 i added more hehe

You’ve never been so confused in your entire life.

It all started last week—when you were walking to the grocery store. Just an ordinary day, nothing special about it. You had a list in your hand, some cash in your pocket, and thoughts of what to cook for dinner running through your mind. The route you took had you winding down the usual streets of your neighbourhood, and that’s when you noticed him.

Something about him was different, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on what it was that made you think that. Perhaps it was the way his eyes followed you, stalking you, like a predator its prey.

At first, you thought it might be a coincidence. Maybe he was just another person going about his day, heading in the same direction as you. People share paths all the time; there was no reason to suspect anything sinister, right? But as you continued walking, a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach told you something was off. You decided to test it, making a sudden turn down a side street, one you usually never take.

The street was quieter, less foot traffic, and the late afternoon shadows were starting to stretch across the pavement. You glanced over your shoulder, and there he was, still a few steps behind, his gaze remaining locked onto you with a focus that sent a shiver down your spine. Quickening your pace, you felt an almost paralyzing fear.

This wasn’t just a shared route.

The more you turned, the more you weaved through unfamiliar streets, the more persistent he became. He never faltered, never hesitated, always keeping just close enough to let you know he was there.

Finally, you reached the store, breathing in short, panicked gasps, your eyes flitting around. You ducked inside, hiding the fluorescent lights and bustling aisles. You tried to calm yourself, telling yourself it was nothing, that you were being paranoid. After all, what were the odds? Maybe he’d walk past, maybe he wasn’t even following you. You spent longer than usual picking up items you didn’t need, giving him time to disappear.

But when you walked back outside, bags in hand, you saw him again. He wasn’t right at the door, but still, close enough—across the street, half-hidden in the shadow of another building, watching. His eyes locked with yours once more, and you froze, the plastic handles of the grocery bags digging into your palms as your grip tightened in fear. He didn’t move, didn’t smile or sneer, just stood there, silent.

You rushed home, not even bothering to see if he was tracking you down, too scared to find out the answer. Your mind was racing with a million thoughts. Who was he? What did he want? You didn’t sleep much that night, jumping at every creak and groan the apartment made, the image of that man’s cold stare burned into your mind.

The next day, you told yourself it was nothing, a one-time thing, just some creep who had too much time on his hands. A pervert, possibly.

But happened again. A different man this time, but with the same unnerving intensity. He followed you the same way, mute and relentless, through the streets, to the store, and back home.

Then the day after that, and that, and that. They didn’t approach you directly, just followed, watched, waited. It was like a game, one that you didn’t know the rules to, and the stakes felt like they were getting higher and higher and more time passed. Whenever you stepped outside, you felt their eyes on you, felt their presence lurking just out of sight. It was terrifying.

The fear gnawed at you, growing with each passing day, until it became impossible to ignore. You started taking different routes, avoiding your usual stores, changing your routine as much as you could. Still, no matter what you did, they always found you.

Soon it changed—no longer just silent stalking. One night, as you were walking home, one of the men stepped out from the shadows and blocked your path. His presence was oppressive, the way he stood there, so still, so certain of his power over you. You had no idea what he wanted, but you knew it whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“Why are you following me?” you demanded, trying to muster up all the courage you could, voice shaking slightly despite your attempt to sound strong.

“Because we were told to,” the man said, his voice cold and emotionless. There was no malice, no pleasure in his words, just a chilling matter-of-factness. “You’re coming with us.”

Panic surged through you, a primal instinct to run, to fight, to do anything but comply. You refused to show it, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spat back, hoping your defiance would be enough to make him reconsider.

His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them, and before you could react, he lunged at you, his fist swinging with brutal intent. Time seemed to slow as you saw the blow coming, your mind racing, but your body moving almost on instinct. You raised your arms to defend yourself, bracing for the crushing impact that would follow.

You couldn’t explain what happened next. When his fist connected with your arm, the force that should have sent you to the ground, left you unscathed. Instead, it was the man who staggered back, a look of shock and pain twisting his features. He clutched his hand, wincing as if he had struck something far harder than just flesh and bone.

You stared at him, bewildered, before glancing down at your own arm in disbelief. There was no pain, no bruise, nothing to indicate that you’d just been hit. It was as if his attack had bounced off of you, like you were made of steel.

Had you really just blocked that hit? And why did it feel like… nothing?

Before you could process what had happened, before the realization could fully take root, another man appeared out of nowhere, moving with a speed that blurred the edges of his form. Mutant. He was faster than the first, more determined, and this time, you felt your heart stop as he came at you from behind, his hands outstretched to grab you.

But something in you reacted faster than your fear. You twisted out of his grip with lightning speed, with movements so fluid and precise, it was as if your body knew exactly what to do, even if your brain was struggling to keep up. You sidestepped his attack, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and found yourself behind him, safe for the moment.

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. How did you move like that? How had you known where to go, how to dodge?

There was no time to dwell on it. The fight intensified in an instant, the two men coming at you one after another, relentless in their assault. They weren’t holding back, and suddenly neither were you. You moved like a force of nature, dodging their attacks, striking back when you could. Each punch you threw landed with a power that surprised even you. You watched in stunned disbelief as one of the men crumpled to the ground after a single blow, his eyes rolling back as if he’d been hit by a truck.

You are not a gym regular. In fact, you hadn’t worked out in weeks. You weren’t strong, not like this. So how was it possible that your punches were so devastating, that each one seemed to carry a weight far beyond what you’d ever imagined?

Then, with a flick of his wrist, the first mutant, conjured a ball of fire in his hand, the flames crackling and roaring, craving something to burn. He hurled it at you, the fireball spinning through the air with only one target in mind.

You barely had time to scream as the flames engulfed your arm, the searing heat burning through your skin. The pain was unbearable, a white-hot agony that made you gasp and stumble back. You expected to see your skin blackened, blistered, ruined.

And it was.

For a minute.

To your shock—or horror—you looked down, breath catching in your throat as you watched the burn heal right before your eyes. The charred skin knitted back together in seconds, smooth and unblemished, as if nothing had happened at all.

What the fuck?

It was in that moment that the truth hit you, like a thunderclap in your mind. You weren’t just an ordinary person caught in a nightmare. You were a mutant, with powers that had only now revealed themselves, right when you needed them most.

The men kept coming, but now you fought with a new understanding. Each punch, each dodge, each rapid movement felt more controlled, more intentional, your gym class self-defence courses coming in clutch. You were strong, faster than you’d ever been, and you could heal—regenerate from injuries that would have left others incapacitated.

Finally, the two men laid groaning on the ground, defeated. You stood there, panting, your mind spinning as you tried to make sense of it all. Super strength, super speed, regeneration… these powers, they were yours. And they had just saved your life.

But as the adrenaline began to fade, confusion set in. What did these men want with you? Why had they gone to such lengths to provoke you? To make you discover what you were capable of?

All you knew was that one thing was clear: this was far from over. Whoever had sent these men wouldn’t stop here. They knew what you were now, and that meant they’d come after you again. You weren’t just an ordinary person anymore. You were something else, something powerful. And that put a target on your back.

Whatever was coming next, you needed to be ready.

----

That’s how you found yourself here, one week later, crouched on the apartment rooftop, the cold wind nipping at your exposed skin. The dark streets below are eerily silent, save for the distant hum of traffic. You sense them before you see them—another group of male mutants, closing in on your position. You grip the hilt of your knife tighter, feeling the now-familiar twinge of anger and frustration settle in your chest. This is the fifth group tonight. They’ve been hunting you in groups for days now, their numbers increasing as each one goes by, and you’re tired of it.

You’ve started to get used to your new powers—testing your limits, pushing yourself harder with each confrontation. What started as simple self-defence, a punch here, a dodge there, has escalated into something far more lethal.

You didn’t want to kill, didn’t want to by use your sharpest kitchen knife (your only kitchen knife) as a weapon, but as the attacks became more violent, you found yourself with little to no choice.

These mutants weren’t holding back, and neither could you.

Within a week, you went from the most average person in the world to what some people might call a vigilante—except you're really only trying to save your own skin.

Leaping off the roof, you land silently behind them. The speed at which you move is almost dizzying, your body a blur as you close the distance in the blink of an eye.

“Looking for someone?” you call out sarcastically.

They turn, eyes widening in surprise, but you’re already moving. Your blade sings through the air, striking true, as you move like a shadow, taking them down one by one. It’s not easy—these guys are tough—but you’ve become tougher. With each strike, you can feel your strength surging, far beyond what should be possible. One of the mutants tries to block you, creating a forcefield, but you grab the edges before it can fully form, and break through it, the temporary pain vanishing as quick as it came. A solid kick to his face, and he crumples to the ground, unconscious before he even realizes it.

“Is this what you wanted?!” you shout, your voice echoing through the empty street as the last attacker falls to the ground, groaning in pain. “Is this what you came for?!”

The answer doesn’t come from them. Rather, it comes from a low growl behind you.

You whirl around, heart racing, and there he is—Logan Howlett—the Wolverine himself. The man you’ve read about in every article, every piece of mutant-related news you could get your hands on since discovering your own abilities. He’s infamous, pretty much a legend, and the stories about him are as terrifying as they are fascinating.

Standing there with that scowl on his face, he looks every bit the dangerous figure you’ve imagined. His eyes are blank, calculating, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as it sizes you up. There’s a tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as he takes a step closer.

“So, you’re the one causing all this trouble,” Logan states gruffly, irritation coating his tongue. He unsheathes his claws, the adamantium glimmering under the streetlights. The sound is unmistakable, and it sends shivers down your spine. “Heard you’ve been killin’ off mutants left and right.”

You narrow your eyes, instinctively stepping back into a defensive stance. Your heart is pounding, but you can't show any weakness.

“Funny, I thought the same about you, Wolverine. What’s the matter? Run out of bad guys to play hero with?”

Without warning, he charges at you, claws outstretched, but you’re ready. You dart to the side, your speed giving you an edge as his claws slice through the air where you’d been standing, making a woosh sound. You counter with a swift kick to his ribs, putting your enhanced strength into the blow. He grunts, stumbling slightly, but quickly regains his balance. The momentary advantage you gained is gone as he storms toward you once more.

You meet his attacks head-on, your blade clashing with his claws in a shower of sparks. The force of each impact reverberates through your arms, but you hold your ground, refusing to back down. His attacks are ferocious, a whirlwind of claws and fury. He's fast, but you’re faster, dodging and weaving with a precision that keeps you just out of reach.

“Look, sweetheart,” he growls between strikes, his frustration evident. “You can make this easy or hard. I don’t care which, but I’m not lettin’ you hurt anyone else.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you deflect another swipe of his claws. “Oh, please. You think I’m the bad guy here? These jerks have been coming after me for days. I’m just defending myself.”

Logan doesn’t look convinced, and that pisses you off more than anything. “Right. And I’m supposed to believe you, why? You’re leavin’ a trail of bodies behind you.”

You narrow your eyes, feeling the anger boil over. “Because I’m not the one who started this! They did! But of course, you wouldn’t know that, would you? You just show up, swinging your claws around like you’re the big savior.”

“You got a mouth on you, don’t ya?” He retorts, snarling as he charges at you again, faster this time. You barely have time to block his attack, the force of his blow sending you skidding back several feet. But you dig your heels in, refusing to give an inch as he continues plows forward. Your speed kicks in, allowing you to duck under his next swing and land a punch to his jaw.

He staggers, but quickly recovers, swiping at you with renewed fury. You're a bit sloppy compared to him, not as much of a seasoned fighter. His claws swipe at your arm, cutting deep and drawing blood, but the wound heals almost instantly, the skin closing up as if it had never been cut. You see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, but it doesn’t slow him down. He lunges again, becoming a blur of motion as he ups the ante.

You parry with your knife, but this time, you’re on the offensive. You launch a rapid series of attacks, your speed and strength managing to drive him back. In the rush of movement, you're able to see an opening, grasping his shoulder and shoving him hard, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. The impact is enough to crack the brick, but Logan just shakes it off, pushing himself back to his feet.

“Gotta say,” you huff, panting slightly from the exertion, “I’m a little disappointed. I expected more from the you, after all I’ve heard.”

Logan grunts, clearly fed up with the banter. “I'm done talking.”

He lunges at you again, and this time, it’s a battle of wills as much as it is of skill. You don't back down, your knife clashing with his claws in a series of rapid, brutal strikes. The alleyway becomes a blur of movement, metal against metal, strength against strength. Each time his claws find their mark, your regenerative abilities kick in, healing the wounds almost as quickly as they’re made.

And for a moment, you wonder if you’ll have to kill him too, just to survive. But then something shifts. Maybe it’s the way your attacks grow weaker, less lethal. Or maybe it’s the way Logan’s eyes narrow in realization when he notices your hesitance.

“Wait a damn minute,” Logan says, stepping back just out of your reach, wiping his mouth, then spitting on the ground. He’s breathing hard, just like you. “You’re holdin’ back.”

He pauses, his eyes narrowing as they flick down to the knife you’ve been holding, and then back up to you. His expression shifts, a mix of disbelief and exasperation crossing his face. “And is that a kitchen knife?”

You glance down at the knife in your hand, realizing how absurd it must look in the middle of this intense fight. It’s not exactly standard combat gear, but it’s all you had when this started. You can’t help the smirk that pulls at your lips as you meet his gaze again.

“It gets the job done,” you quip, shrugging slightly.

He shakes his head, clearly not impressed. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I'm choosing to take that as a compliment,” The sarcasm is practically oozing off of you.

He eyes you warily, his posture still tense. “You’re not makin’ this easy, you know. You got me here thinkin’ you’re some crazed mutant killer, but you’re just a girl wavin’ around a kitchen knife like you’re in a bad horror movie.”

You cross your arms. “Well, I didn’t exactly have time to hit up a weapons store. Besides, I didn’t ask for any of this. These guys came after me first.”

Logan studies you. “So you say. But you’re killing dozens of mutants. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘innocent.’”

“Trust me, if I had a choice, I wouldn’t be doing this–fighting… killing–at all. Hell, I didn’t even know I was a mutant until some guy swung his fist at me a week ago.” You meet his gaze, challenging him. “And what about you? You’re not exactly known for playing nice.”

He snorts. “Yeah, well, most of my casualties are from the missions I go on, so I'd say it's justified.”

Your eyes narrow, catching the implication in his words. “Oh, am I your mission now? How long have you been tracking me?”

Logan’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a slight shift in his posture, a subtle acknowledgment that you’ve hit on something. “Long enough to know you’re not just some innocent bystander caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“So, what? You’ve been watching me, waiting for me to screw up so you could take me down?” you demand, the frustration clear in your voice.

“Something like that,” he replies gruffly, “But from what I’ve seen, you’re more reactive than proactive," he looks you up and down. "I can’t seem figure out if you’re the real threat here, or just someone caught in the middle of a bigger mess.”

You let out a slow breath, trying to calm the fiery anger rising within you. “I told you, I didn’t start this. They did. I’m just trying to survive.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, teeth grinding as he considers your words. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to piece together whether you’re telling the truth or just playing him. He takes a step closer, his claws still out but not as threatening as before.

Finally, he asks, “You got a name?”

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “No shit I have a name.”

Logan huffs, unimpressed by your attitude. “Well, if you’re not gonna tell me, I’m just gonna have to call you somethin’… How 'bout Knifey?”

You stare at him, half-expecting him to crack a smile, but he’s dead serious. “Knifey? Really?”

Logan shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he eyes your weapon of choice again. “Fits, don’t you think?”

“Fine. I’ll tell you my name, alright? Anything but Knifey.” You say, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“... Gotta say, Knifey sounds a little better”

“Shut the fuck up, Wolverine”

“It’s Logan, actually.”

You release a deep sigh. “I know, and I don’t care. I’m telling you I am not the one you need to be going after.”

Logan scoffs, crossing his arms. “I’ve been around a long time. Seen my fair share of people who think they’re doin’ the right thing and end up doin’ a hell of a lot of damage. So, forgive me if I’m a little skeptical.”

“You would know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?” The words come out of your mouth before you had time to think about them, and you regret it immediately. You can see the mutant in front of you’s face darken to a degree bordering murderous, and you think you’ve crossed a line you can’t come back from. Whatever playful banter existed before this is gone.

“Careful,” He growls menacingly, “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

You swallow hard. The Wolverine is infamous for a reason, and you just poked at the beast beneath the surface. You briefly consider backing down, but your pride refuses to let you.

“Maybe I don’t,” you admit, “But I do know what it’s like to be hunted, to have no choice but to fight back. So yeah, maybe we’re more alike than you think.”

Logan’s glare softens just a fraction, and he lets out a long, frustrated breath. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do ya?”

“Not when I’m trying to make a point,” you retort.

He doesn’t respond immediately, just stares at you, as if he’s trying to decide whether to continue this conversation or end it with his claws. Ultimately, he shakes his head, the anger in his eyes dimming, replaced by something more akin to weary resignation.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Maybe you’re not the one I should be takin’ down. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start trustin’ you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” you reply, feeling a bit of relief that the situation isn’t about to escalate into another fight. “But I swear, there’s someone else out there pulling the strings. And I’m not sticking around to be their puppet.”

He nods slowly, crossing his arms again. “We’ll find out who’s behind this, but I’m callin’ the shots. You step outta line, and we’re gonna have a problem.”

You smirk, a little of your bravado returning. “I’ll try not to disappoint you, Logan.”

You can tell he doesn't appreciate your attitude, but he lets it slide. “Let’s get one thing straight. This ain’t a partnership. I’m doin’ this to figure out what the hell’s goin’ on, not because I like you.”

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” you shoot back, though there’s no real heat behind your words.

Logan turns abruptly, not even bothering to beckon you with him.

It makes you roll your eyes but you fall in step beside him anyway, knowing that despite the rocky start, this uneasy alliance might be the only thing keeping you alive.

“…So… where exactly are we going?”

He sends you a sidelong glance. "Who said I’m takin’ you anywhere?"

You throw your hands up, exasperated. "Well, if you don’t, these mutants are going to keep hunting me, and I’m going to keep killing them…” you shoot him a look, batting your eyelashes innocently. “You wouldn't want that, would you?"

“Fuck off”

"Well, too late for that now."

He grumbles something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but it sounds a lot like cursing his bad luck.

"We’re headin’ to my place. It’s the safest spot right now."

----

Turn’s out, it’s not really his place. Or at least, it’s what you’d thought it’d be. It’s more of an abandoned warehouse that he just decided to seek refuge in one day, doing the bare minimum to make it feel at the very least, home-y. The heavy metal doors creak open, revealing a chaotic interior cluttered with garbage, old newspapers, and a few scattered items. In the corner, a single bed and a sagging couch that look like they’ve definitely seen better days.

Your nose wrinkles in disgust as you take in the mess. "Seriously?" you mutter, your voice tinged with disbelief. "This is where you've been hiding out? It looks like a tornado hit a thrift store."

Logan, who had been trailing behind you, lets out a low grunt as he shuffles past, not bothering to respond to your jab. His heavy footsteps echo in the otherwise silent space, the sound bouncing off the bare, cold walls. He heads straight for a small, battered table that looks like it's one sharp nudge away from collapsing. On it lies a worn notebook, its pages yellowed and curling at the edges, evidence of extensive use. Without a word, he picks it up and starts flipping through the pages, his expression unreadable.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you step closer, peering over his shoulder. "What's this?" you ask, reaching out to take the notebook from him. He hesitates for a brief moment before relinquishing it into your hands. As you flip through the pages, your eyes widen in shock. The notes are detailed, almost obsessively so, listing the names of various mutants, their abilities, and the exact locations where their bodies were found.

"Oh, great," you say with a sarcastic, half-hearted laugh. "You've been keeping tabs on me. What kind of creepy stalker are you?”

He rolls his eyes and snatches the notebook back, his voice dripping with irritation. "I wasn’t exactly tracking you. I was trying to track whoever’s been killing all those damn mutants."

Logan’s jaw tightens as you just continue to stare, and he lets out an exasperated sigh. "And don’t act all innocent. I needed to know who was causing all the chaos."

Scoffing, you continue to look through the notebook, stopping when you come across a particularly detailed entry. "Wow... 26 kills? Not too shabby for an amateur mutant, huh?"

“Is your mouth unable to stay shut?” he questions, though you know better than to answer that.

The notebook flops back onto the table with a casual flick of your wrist. "Hey, don’t be mad just because I’m doing a better job than you expected."

He crosses his arms over his chest, his muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt. "I’m not mad," he snaps. "I’m annoyed that you’re making light of this. It’s not exactly a high score to brag about."

"Oh, come on. You’re the one who turned this place into a shrine to my success” you smirk.

"It’s not a shrine," Logan growls, his patience wearing thin. "It’s a record. If you’d been paying more attention to what’s going on, you’d know that."

The playfulness fades from your face as his words hit home. He’s right, but you’re not about to admit it. Instead, you deflect. "Yeah, and if you’d bothered to talk to me instead of playing detective, maybe we’d have figured this out sooner."

"You think you’re the only one who’s had a rough time? This whole situation is a mess, and we’re both caught in it." His eyes narrow.

You cross your arms, mirroring his defensive posture. "You didn’t have to get involved, you know. Unless...what if you’re the bad guy here?" you challenge, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "Using all these mutants to lure me into your dungeon under the pretense of trying to ‘stop’ me?"

His response is immediate. "I’m way too lazy to think of doing all that."

You can’t help but believe him, especially given the state of the warehouse. He clearly lacks the energy—or the interest—to tidy up his living space, let alone mastermind a complex plot. You let out a sigh and walk over to the sagging couch in the corner. The fabric is threadbare, and the springs groan in protest as you flop down onto it.

"Fine, fine... I trust you," you concede, though your tone is far from serious. "Did you notice anything specific amongst these mutants?"

"Yeah, I’ve noticed somethin’,” Logan says, dragging a hand down his face, now looking more tired than ever. “They’re all pretty low-key. Not exactly top-tier in the mutant rankings. Never caused any trouble before, yadda yadda. If anything, they’re usually on the weaker side."

You furrow your brows, intrigued. "So they’re not a serious threat."

"Exactly," Logan confirms with a nod. "It’s weird. These mutants aren’t the type to just go around being fuckin’ annoying like they have been. Someone—or something—must be pushing them into this."

"You think they’re all being controlled somehow?" you muse, the pieces slowly falling into place. "And that’s why they’re suddenly acting out of character?"

"Seems like it," He replies, rubbing his temples. "Must be powerful if they’re all falling in line like this. We’re going to have to dig deeper to find the source of it.

He moves to sit next to you on the couch, the worn fabric sinking even further under his weight. "Tell me everything you know," Logan says quietly, his voice a tinge softer now, almost coaxing. "Everything that’s happened to you."

You sigh and lean back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as you start to recount your experience. "It all began about a week ago. Just a normal day, I was walking to the grocery store, then I noticed this guy following me. At first, I thought it was a coincidence. But no matter where I went, he was always a few steps behind."

His attention sharpens, his gaze locking onto yours. "And?"

"It started as just stalking," you continue, your voice growing quieter as the memories flood back. "Nothing violent. But then, it started happening with different people. Each time, they were more persistent, more intimidating. It became clear that something was off."

You can feel Logan’s gaze burning into you, his concern evident in the way he leans closer, listening intently. "Eventually, they started getting aggressive," you say. "One night, one of them blocked my path and tried to grab me. I managed to fight him off, but when he hit me, it didn’t hurt. I mean, it should have, he looked pretty strong, but my arm felt fine. That’s when I realized I had powers—some form of super strength, super speed, and healing abilities."

"And you figured that out just from fighting them off?" he questions, somewhat impressed.

You nod, rubbing your arms as if to ward off a lingering chill. "Yeah. I didn’t really have a choice. They kept coming, and I had to use whatever I had to protect myself—including my damn kitchen knife. The more I fought, the more I understood what I could do.”

Logan pauses, his expression unreadable as he processes everything you’ve said. The dim light from the single bulb casts long shadows across the room, emphasizing the lines of fatigue etched into his face. Finally, he stands up, his movements slow and deliberate. "So, here’s the plan," he starts, his voice rough and tired. "We need to figure out exactly where these mutants are coming from. There’s gotta be a main location where they’re getting their orders or some central hub for this control."

You hum in agreement, though a part of you is reluctant to jump back into action so soon. "Alright, so how do we start tracking that down?"

His lips press into a thin line as he thinks it over. "We’ll stake out the rooftops. From up there, we can get a clear view of their movements and see if they’re converging somewhere specific. Maybe spot a pattern."

You stretch, stifling a yawn as you glance around the shabby room. "Okay, but are we doing that tonight? I’m pretty beat."

“Seriously? You want to put this off?" he accuses, face twisting in irritation.

"I’m up for it, but I’d be more effective if I’m not running on fumes. Plus, you look pretty tired yourself," you shrug.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow."

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you sense his reluctance to agree. "So you agree with me," you state, not really feeling any real pride, but just wanting to push his buttons.

Logan grumbles under his breath as he starts to clear a space on the threadbare couch, which creaks loudly under even the slightest pressure. "Do you ever shut up? I’m letting you crash in my bed, aren’t I?"

You chuckle softly, watching him arrange a tattered blanket on the couch with exaggerated care. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Goodnight, old man."

"Watch it, Knifey," he mutters, settling onto the couch with a groan as the springs protest under his weight.

You roll your eyes at his choice of nickname, and with a sigh, you make your way over to the bed, which is small and far from luxurious, but it’s better than nothing. The mattress dips slightly as you climb in, and the covers are thin, barely providing any warmth. Still, exhaustion pulls at you, and you barely have time to think about what the covers smell like before sleep overtakes you.

----

pls comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the series taglist!

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sexy-monster-fucker · 2 months

Text

Ghost of You

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Mutant!Reader ANGST

Summary: After the events of Deadpool and Wolverine, Wade introduces Logan to the Reader. She looks just like his late wife from his Earth. When Logan starts treating her weirdly, she assumes he just doesn’t like her.

A/N: this is just a fun angsty idea I came up with. Love the idea of Logan having a late wife who haunts him everywhere he goes.

~~~

He froze completely in his tracks when he saw you. Standing in Wade’s living room, a bright smile painted on your face.

“Logan this is Y/N. She’s one of my best friends,” Wade introduced you. You extended a hand out to him, “It’s so nice to meet you, Logan.” He scowled as he stared at your hand. Growling and storming off into his own room. You furrowed your brows, looking back at Wade. “Well that was fucking weird,” Wade blinked.

That had been the first time you met. It was months later and things had not improved much. Anytime you were together you could feel Logan’s eyes burning into you. He practically never spoke to you, but could never take his eyes off you. It confused you. Often made things completely awkward and unbearable.

You were all hanging out at a mutual friend’s house out near the lakes. Everyone in your friend group was there. Wade showed up late. You were excited to see Wade until you saw Logan trailing behind him. Heart sinking in your stomach and lump forming in your throat. In your panic, you headed outside to the lit fire pit. Alone away from everyone. You caught your breath.

You liked Logan. Logan when you weren’t around. Watching him from afar trying not to disturb him. Something about you made him uncomfortable. You wanted him to have an easy time adjusting to a whole new place. Trying your hardest to distance yourself anytime he was around so he could be his true self. You felt a sort of connection to Logan. You longed to be around him. Chalking it up to be some sort of crush you had formed.

You stared at your phone. Hearing everyone erupt in laughter together occasionally. Sad that you were having to miss out on the fun, but doing what you thought was right. Debating on leaving, instead of just watching everyone enjoy your absence. You were a people watcher though, it warmed your heart to see everyone inside having a good time.

One of the doors to the patio opened. Catching your attention at the sudden sound. It was Logan. Your eyes dropping down to your phone, trying to ignore him. He joined you at the fire pit, sitting next to you. He stared into the flames not even acknowledging your existence. You were confused why he would come out here with you. Complete silence other than the sounds of the outside world moving around you. Awkwardly shooting a glance over at him. His eyes meeting yours momentarily. Both of you darted your gaze back down.

“You look just like her,” he admitted.

You stiffened your back, trying your best not to look at him. Silence other than the crackling fire in front of you.

“Who?”

“My wife,” he sighed.

And then, everything clicked in your mind. It was not that he didn’t like you, it was that you looked like someone from his past.

“If there was another version of me on this Earth, maybe you’re the version of her for this one. Not that you owe me anything, you just look so much like her. So beautiful,” he trailed off. Embarrassing himself with his confession.

“You— She died on my Earth. Fighting in a war against other mutants. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. I never forgave myself for not being able to protect her,” Logan’s eyes fixated on you.

“Is that why you acted so cold the first time we met?” You quietly questioned.

“It was like seeing a ghost. You look just like her. Sound just like her. Hell, you even wear the same perfume,” his face fell into his hands. You never knew the Logan of your world. Seeing headlines in the news about him from time to time, but never knowing him personally. Yes, you were a mutant, but not a very mutant crossed paths.

“It was like I felt everything all over again. I never meant to be such a prick,” Logan grumbled into his hands. You silently sat as he sulked beside you. Clear distress written on his figure. Unsure of how to help him, wondering if speaking would only make things worse.

“What was she like?” You attempted to break the ice. Praying he would lighten up.

Deep hazel eyes peered at you over top his hands. Slight cock of an eyebrow on his heavy forehead. Sitting up straight and looking up at the sky, Logan sighed, soft chuckle painting his tone. “She was the life of every room she was in. Always cracking jokes, getting everyone else to smile. Kindest girl you’d ever meet. We worked at an academy, all the kids loved her. Looked up to her. Effortlessly beautiful. She could’ve had any guy she wanted, but she chose me. Look where that got her,” he trailed off looking down at the flames in front of him. You swallowed heavy. Unsure what to say back. “You’re a lot like her. Especially to hear everyone talk about you. The way everyone just flocks to you every time you enter a room, I— Wade had told me a lot about you,” Logan looked at you softer than normal.

You felt your face heat up. Not ever having anyone talk about you that way. Not knowing Wade had been gushing about you to his new roommate.

Crickets hummed in the distance, a familiar silence. Logan watched all your friends inside having fun. Smiling. “Everyone in there adores you. I’m sorry I’ve been taking you away from that with my mean mug,” Logan huffed.

“Do you think… I could get to know you,” you asked, doe eyes staring at Logan. His head whipping back to look at you. A face he had fallen in love with some time ago. Sitting right before him, staring back at him. Fluttering the lashes he had grown to love. Locks of hair the color he was used to rolling over and seeing sprawled across the pillow. Looking just as beautiful as the day he last held her in his arms.

“I’d- I’d love that,” Logan smiled at you. You returned his look, feeling a weight fall off your shoulders. Demeanors changing with the new found attitude between you. Deciding the best way to learn more about each other was just to ask outright.

“So, what’s your favorite color?”

“Red.”

Your conversation went on like this for the rest of the night. Chatting even as everyone else left the party. Wade watched with a smile on his face from inside.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! This was just a quick fun concept I came up with the other day. Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way, or if you’d like to be tagged in any further Fics, let me know! //

{tags}

@toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @megangovier ~ @castle-of-ruin ~

#wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #deadpool 3 #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #writing #fanfic #mcu #sexymonsterfics #angst

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nanaslutt · 9 months

Note

HATE SEX WITH GETO PLEASE 😭😭🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

contains: fem reader, spanking, choking, manhandling, hate fucking, rough sex, dirty talk, cheating, spanking, bathroom sex, angst w/ no comfort, proceed with caution :3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Just thinking about hate sex with ex-boyfriend Geto. You received a video from an unknown number a couple months ago of your boyfriend at the club, big arms slung around two pretty girls as one ground on him under the flashing lights and blaring music of the club. The video was short, but it was all you needed to see. You forwarded the video to Geto, captioned with the words, "fuck you."

The night he went out he told you he was having a guy's night out with Gojo, so imagine your surprise when you woke up to him acting like a whore in public. You still did never find out who sent you that video. Geto spent days blowing up your phone, using your mutual friends to try and talk to you, even going as far to show up to your house, but you rejected all of his advances.

After about a month and a half, when things had calmed down and it was evident to the both of you that your relationship was well over, you finally started going out again. The reason it took you so long? The two of you were in the same friend group. There's a reason they say to date outside of your circle, for situations exactly like this.

Your big debut back into your circle of friends was a night out clubbing. Gojo, Shoko, Utahime, and Nanami were sitting on the plush cushions around you. The only reason you agreed to go out with them tonight was because Shoko had promised Geto wouldn't be there, saying he was stuck at work. Truthfully though, Shoko had missed you so much in the group outings, that she would've found a way to drag you out of the house even if Geto was going to be there.

"This is nice, I'll admit. I missed you guys." You said, working on your second cocktail of the night. Drinks always tasted better when Gojo paid. "Awww~ I don't know how you went so long without seeing me, honestly~" Gojo teased, ruffling your hair in the process. You swatted his hand away, fixing your hair while you shot him a nasty side-eye. "Us, he meant US." Utahime corrected, placing her hand on your knee while also shooting daggers at Gojo.

Gojo stuck out his tongue at Utahime, crossing his legs as he leaned back into the cushions, his arms spreading out behind you and Nanami on the top of the couch. "It's true though, it's nice having you here," Nanami added a light blush dusting on his face from how many drinks he had already downed; he must not have work tomorrow. "Thank you Nanami." you smiled at him before leaning back, crossing your legs over one another, your short black dress riding up your thighs slightly in the process.

"I've been so pent up all month, this feels so good." You giggled, tipping your head over as you directed your words to the girls. "Yeah? I know how you can feel even better." Shoko smirked, sipping on her straight vodka. Utahime smiled giddily, leaning her body forward in interest as she also waited for Shoko to speak. "Blondie over there at the bar has been eyeing you up since we got here, go talk to him." She nudged, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You have been wound up in more ways than one since you and Geto had broken up. He always dicked you down so good, you would miss that. Who knows though, maybe blondie with the nice jawline and pretty face would give you good pipe in the bathroom. You eye him up, biting your lip as you dragged your eyes over his sturdy frame, only noticing he had been watching you oogle him like a slab of meat the whole time when you went to rake your eyes over his handsome face. He smiled, his dimples showing themselves as they dug into his cheeks, fuck he was hot. This was the perfect guy to use to get over Geto, screw that cheater.

"Oh shitt~ Look at them eye fucking each other~ Haha!" Gojo laughed, sipping on his sweet, non-alcoholic, bright pink drink. You turned your head to smirk at Gojo before you placed your hand on his shoulder and used it to push yourself off the seat. "You're really going for it?" Shoko asked incredulously, giggling behind your hand as you smoothed out your dress. "Why not? I'm horny and single, and a hot man is looking at me like I'm the hottest woman he's ever laid eyes on." You said, smiling down at your friends.

"That's because you are," Shoko added, grabbing your thigh for leverage she spun you around to face the man behind you sitting on the barstools, waiting for you to approach him. "I would be jealous If I liked men, he's a cutie." She laughed to Utahime as she watched you take a deep breath and walk off toward the man.

You walked through the club with confidence, a heartbeat already forming behind your panties as you got closer and closer, watching the way he eyed up your body as you walked. "Friends talked some sense into you, huh?" The man spoke when you got within ear shot. You took the seat next to him, plopping down on the barstool you spun the seat around to face him, your legs slotting together with one another as you placed your heel-clad feet on the bottom of his barstool.

His eyes darted down to your legs, watching you insert yourself into his space with confidence. "Too shy to come up to me yourself?" You asked, placing your hand on his knee as you rubbed circles against his pants, making him swallow the lump in his throat, feeling the heat rise to his face with how bold you were being. "You kidding? Those guys you're with are fucking repellent. Didn't know if you were with one of them or not." He laughed, taking a sip of his drink to ease his nerves.

"But you were watching me anyways?" You teased, keeping your eyes locked onto his. He took in a deep breath, pressing his lips together as before he spoke. "You have no idea what you look like, huh?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. "Who wouldn't be able to resist looking at someone like you?" His words sent shivers down your spine, you needed to get him in a bathroom stall with you hours ago. As the two of you continued flirting with one another, eyefucking each other as you sipped on your respective drinks, someone unexpected entered the club.

"Heyy." Geto's voice echoed into your friend's ears. The dark-haired man was half up, half down in his signature bun, one hand tucked into his pocket while his other was held up in front of him, waving to his friends. "Hey troublemaker~" Gojo smiled largely. Shoko groaned along with Utahime. "Thought you couldn't make it?" Nanami asked as he slid in next to him on the couch, spreading his long legs out on the cushions as he took Nanami's drink from him, taking a gulp.

"Got off early, thought I might come by." He responded, laughing when a drunk Nanami snatched his drink back from Geto, muttering to order his own drink. "Come by my ass, you work on the other side of town." Shoko laughed incredulously, adding that you were not going to be very happy. "She's here?" Geto asked, his demeanor immediately perking up. Shoko looked to Utahime knowingly before she looked back to Geto, hissing air in through her teeth.

"Yes cheater~ Of course she's here, and she's about to score by the looks of it." Shoko laughed, making Gojo whistle as he dragged his gaze to you, watching you pull your head back from the whispering something in the mans ear before his lips moved, head moving in tandem as you slid off of the barstool, taking his larger hand in his as you dragged him away from the seat, making him place his drink down on the bar top, abandoning it as you dragged him away to the bathroom.

Geto had just watched the entire scene unfold in front of him that the rest of them had seen. Of course, Geto had come here for you. Shoko was right, he worked almost half an hour away from the club, he was exhausted from work but when he saw you say in the group chat you were going to be here, he knew he had to make a detour. He knew he fucked up when he lied to you about going to the club, but truthfully he had done nothing more than let a couple girls fawn over him, grinding on him while they peppered kisses on his cheeks, never coming close to his mouth.

He still loved you, of course, he did, but you had been adamant about not seeing him at all for almost two months. He hadn't really given up, he would never give up on trying to get you back, he just figured maybe a little break and letting you calm down would lead you back to him. Clearly, he was wrong as he watched you maneuver your way through the crowd, dragging some man you met five minutes prior away to fuck, looking good as all hell.

He grits his teeth, pressing his feet firmly on the floor Geto was on the move in a heartbeat, no one could stop him. "Oh look what you did." Nanami huffed, looking at Shoko. "She's gonna be fucking pissed you know." Shoko's jaw was on the floor. She severely underestimated the amount of balls Suguru Geto had. "How the fuck was I supposed to know he was gonna go chase after her???" She said, looking at him with an expression that almost resembled horror, making Gojo laugh his ass off between them.

Once you made it to the secluded corner of the club just outside the bathrooms, you spun your body around, wrapping your arms around the man. "You wanna fuck me?" You whispered into his ear, feeling his large hands wrap around your waist, his knee sliding between your legs. He groaned at your words, staring between your lips and your pretty eyes as you bit your lip at him, "Fuck yeah, pretty girl." He smiled, shaking his head as he leaned in for a kiss.

You closed your eyes, waiting for a sensation against your lips that never came. Your eyes shot open when he yelled out an exasperated "Hey! What the fuck!" His lips loosened on your waist as he was dragged away from you by a strong grip on his hair. "Geto?!" You yelled, spinning your body to look at him, your body heating up with rage combined with the neglect of pleasure. "Who the fuck are you?!" The blond-haired man yelled, trying to grip Geto's wrist to make him release the hold he had on his hair.

"Her boyfriend." He deadpanned, throwing him in the direction of the club as he reached his hand over your head, pushing the door open behind you, forcing you into the small bathroom with his large frame, leaving you no time to refute. "I didn't know man, fuck!" The man's voice was cut off as the bathroom door shut behind the two of you, Geto's hand coming down to lock the door, leaving you alone in the personal bathroom.

"What the fuck are you doing?" You asked, shoving his chest back, Geto not even moving a muscle as his jaw muscles bulged out under the weight of his clenching teeth, his dark eyes watching you fume. "What the fuck were you doing?" Geto responded, walking toward you slowly, making you step back unconsciously, trying to keep some distance between the two of you. "Why is that any of your fucking business?" You spat, almost laughing at his audacity.

"We never officially broke up." Geto retorted, clenching his fists by his sides. "Oh! Oho!" You laughed, "Excuse me, allow me to make it official for you, we are fucking done." You dug your nail into his chest, squinting your eyes as you looked into his, your tall heels making you feel more confident as your height difference wasn't as dramatic now. "Thought I made it pretty fucking clear when I didn't respond to you for almost two months, but you always were pretty dense." You huffed, backing away from him once you got your point across.

"Were you just trying to get even with me? Huh? Thought fucking some random guy in the club like a slut would make you feel better about yourself?" He yelled, continuing to walk toward you until your back hit the wall, making you jolt, you hadn't even realized you were walking backward. "The fuck did you call me?" You asked, scrunching your eyebrows together. "You're such a fucking hypocrite, acting like that wasn't exactly what you did to me." You laughed again. You felt like you were going crazy, why was he acting like you were the one in the wrong here?

"I never fucked them! Never! Maybe if you answered my fucking calls or looked at my texts you would know that!" He shouted, getting in your face. You shook your head, looking at him with disdain. "Oh, because letting girls dry hump you is so much fucking better, right?" You yelled back, the ghost of a smile gracing your features, you were so done with him.

"God you really are the worst." You spat, your eyes shooting daggers into his own. "How the fuck are you gonna make up for scaring that guy off, huh?" You asked, tilting your head at him, making his eyes lock onto yours once more. Geto cocked his head at you, clearly uncomfortable with you mentioning the blonde stranger, knowing damn well you meant you were going to fuck him, and now you were left dry.

You scoffed, "What? Don't like the thought of me getting off on someone else's cock? Moaning someone else's name? Huh? That shit make you mad?" You got in his face, keeping your squinted eyes on his dark ones. Geto doesn't know what came over him, but he couldn't stand to hear you talk anymore. His lips were on yours, swallowing your surprised moans, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth, crushing his jaw into yours, your head bumping into the wall behind you.

You were still mad as hell, but his lips felt so familiar, your arousal crept up through the cracks of your irritation and made you kiss him back harder, fighting him for dominance. His hand came to grab your throat, squeezing harshly, his fingers digging into your delicate skin, making you whine into the kiss. He was never this rough with you, and you were loving it.

He pulled back, his free hand coming down to undo his belt quickly, pulling the leather through the loops as he threw it somewhere on the floor of the filthy bathroom floor, "Don't you ever talk about someone else fucking you in front of me." He growled, squeezing your throat to emphasize his words, You smiled through the lack of oxygen, little black dots clouding your vision, but you still felt the need to fight back. "Fuck you." You whispered.

Geto spun you around in one swift movement, making you face the wall, your hands coming to brace against the brick as you felt him lift your skirt over the curve of your ass, your panties being roughly yanked down midway on your thighs. Everything was happening so quickly, the adrenaline pumping through your veins only fueling your arousal. You knew this was not a good idea, but your body was too weak to Geto.

Geto shook his head as his eyes came into contact with your dripping pussy. He bit his lip between his teeth, pulling his cock out through his pants as he gave himself a couple rough strokes, his hand sliding down to your ass as he rubbed his thumb through your folds, spreading them and rubbing your wetness around before he dipped the digit into your hole, slowly pumping in and out. He was absolutely fuming at the thought of you giving this to someone else, he wondered if you had in the time you haven't been talking.

"You this wet from that fucking loser, or from me yelling at you?" Geto asked, pulling his thumb back to leave a rough smirk on your ass, pushing his hips forward as he rubbed his tip along your folds, getting his cock slick with your juices. "You're so full of yourself, shoulda seen the way he was touching me under the table." You giggled, turning your head to the side to look at him. You kept your words vague on purpose to piss Geto off. He had been touching you under the table, but only your thigh.

"You fucking slut." Geto grit through his teeth, his hand coming to grip the back of your neck, his fingers pinching your skin with how hard he was gripping you. "And you still wanna fuck me." You laughed, the noise getting cut short when he pushed his cock into you all at once with zero warning, keeping his balls pressed to your ass as he let his cock throb inside your walls still, his back pressing agaisnt your chest as he leaned into your ear, his deep voice whispering, "That's enough out of you." His voice alone was enough to send shivers down your spine.

"Fuck!" you yelled when he pulled his hips back before he bullied his cock back into your unprepped walls, stretching you open as he meanly fucked you against the wall. "Shit- Think he could fuck you better than me? Huh?" Geto asked, leaning back as he pressed the back of your neck into the wall, his other hand holding under your hip as he held you in an arch, the pace of his hips making your knees squeeze together, bending slightly at the stimulation.

You brought one of your hands down between your thighs to rub little circles into your clit, your eyes crossing at the feeling. Geto must have felt how tight you got because he groaned through his teeth, his hand leaving your hip for a moment to come down to leave a harsh smack on your ass. "Fuck- I don't know, heh- If you didn't interrupt me I w-would've found out. He shook his head, smiling through the malice he felt coursing through his veins. "You're such a fucking brat." Smack, "Just sayin' that shit to get me worked up so I'll fuck you like the whore you are."

You wanted to hit him back every time he slapped your ass. Sure, it felt good, but you knew he was trying to put you in your place, so the action made a vein pop out on your forehead. You were so glad he couldn't see your face right now. Your words might've been sharp and snarky, but your face was flushed red and your eyes were rolling back in your head every time his fat cock thrust right against your sweet spot deep inside you, the one only he could reach. "I-I hate you-" You moaned out between his mean thrusts.

You heard him coo in response, his hand leaning the back of your neck so he could grip your waist with both hands and yank you back on his cock harder, fucking whines from your lips. "Don't talk to me like that baby, hurts my feelings~" Geto retorted, his jaw dropping in a small o when you rubbed your clit harder at his words, making your hole clench around him so tightly it felt like you were trying to milk him of all he was worth.

"Would you really be squeezing me this tight if you hated me? Hmm?" He teased, practically slamming your ass back on his pelvis, loud squelching noises bouncing off the walls. Thank god you were in this loud-ass club or everyone would know exactly what was going on, not like you really cared. "Shut up and fuck m-me." You responded curtly, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on reaching your high, timing your finger rubbing circles against your clit with his thrusts inside you.

"That's what I'm doing, dumb s-slut." Geto groaned, dropping his gaze to where the two of you were connected, feeling a warmth in his stomach bloom at the white ring of cum that had formed around the base of his dick. "Godd pussy is fucking milking me- you cant survive without me, need me- need this dick." Geto spoke between rough thrusts, his own words working himself up as he felt his high creep over him.

You grit your teeth at his words, moans spilling from your lips without your permission. He was fucking the shit out of you, you don't think he's ever been so rough before. His words, his hips, his hands, all of it, so fucking rough, and it was quickly working you up to your orgasm. You were too overwhelmed, tears started forming in your eyes with all of the stimulation and emotion you were feeling. He was hammering into your g-spot, making your legs shake uncontrollably.

"God- fuck- Gonna make me cum inside my pussy, my fucking pussy-" Geto babbled, shaking his head as he tried to get a peek at your face, noticing how you had bitten your lip between your teeth, tears streaming down your face. "Fuck, you crying? Feels that good?" He laughed. You didn't want him to know how good you were feeling, didn't want him to know his words were true; you couldn't live without him or his dick. His cock alone was literally fucking tears out of your eyes, it was so intense.

"Not gonna speak huh? Fine, stay quiet then." Your ex-boyfriend huffed, looking down at your pussy stretched around his girth as he fucked himself to his orgasm, you close behind him. "Shit- shit I'm coming- take it baby fu-ck~" Geto groaned, leaning over your back, burring his face into your neck. You felt his teeth dig into your neck when you felt the first rope of his warm seed shoot inside you, making your orgasm crash over you.

The two of you rode your highs out together, Geto's hips weakly and unceremoniously thrusting into your sopping cunt, working you through your orgasms. Geto jerked against your body, his strong hands wrapping around your torso as he kept you pressed against him, unloading his cum into your abused pussy. You whimpered into the wall, feeling his teeth leave your neck when he started coming down from his high, his face keeping its place in your neck.

The two of you stayed quiet for a while, relishing in the silence save for the dull booming of the club music echoing through the walls of the bathroom. Geto's hands were petting the skin of your hips, and for just a moment, you let yourself think everything was okay, losing yourself in the feeling; until he spoke. "I am sorry you know. So fucking sorry." He whispered into your neck, not daring to move.

You heaved out a sigh, pushing his arms off of you. You reached behind you and pushed his pelvis back, wincing in overstimulation when his softened cock slid out of your walls, his cum chasing after him, making your face scrunch at the uncomfortable feeling. "That wasn't what this was." You responded coldly. Bending down you pulled your panties up, keeping his cum snug inside you.

You turned around to watch him open your mouth, to which you held your hand up, stopping him; amazed when he actually listened. You pushed past him, bumping his shoulder in the process. Without another word, you unlocked the bathroom door and on shaky legs, left the small room and out into the nightclub to find Shoko and Utahime and get the hell out of there. Geto sighed deeply, tipping his head back as he stared at the ceiling before he closed his eyes, feeling the remorse wash over him, "fuck."

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likeumeanit9497 · 3 days

Text

i know you know | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: after a night at a party, matt hears his best friend sleeping with someone. the memory of it overtakes him all the next day, and he can't get it off his mind. but what happens when it turns out that she wanted him to hear all along?

warnings: SMUT (holy fuck this is smutty); established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); unprotected p in v (don't do this); absolutely filthy talk; voyeurism vibes; switch!matt; mentions of alcohol; 18+

notes: guys i fear i might have just written my new fave one shot. i warned y'all that i only have matt ideas rn, but this one is SO GOOD i had to post immediately. i normally don't go feral for my own writing but this one made me get up and do a few laps around the house tbh. i hope y'all like it as much as i liked writing it LOVE U LOVE U LOVE U MUAH

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“Matt?” You called his name as you began climbing up his front steps. “Hey, I’m doing laundry.” His voice rang through the house, and as you entered the empty kitchen you saw his back in the hallway as he folded a pair of jeans and placed them on the neat pile of clean laundry stacked on top of the washing machine. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment half in greeting and half to help ease the pounding in your heavy head.

“Last night almost killed me. How are you feeling?” You asked him, lifting your head off of his shoulder so that he could face you. His eyes were tired, his hair was a mess, but there was a slight glint of curiosity in his eyes that caught you off guard. After staring at you for a moment too long, he replied. “I feel alright. Slept most of the day though.” You released a soft laugh.

Last night, you and Matt went to a big party for one of your mutual friends. What was supposed to be an early night — both of you agreeing to show face for an hour and then head home — turned into one filled with dancing, too much tequila, and a night spent on the couch of the host for you both. Once you were both sober in the morning, Matt drove you home and you both tended to your own hangovers for the rest of the day. Now it was Sunday evening, and you two decided to spend it watching a movie and eating shitty food.

“Same here,” You replied, “I literally rolled out of bed 30 minutes ago. You’re lucky I even had enough energy to drive over here.” You leaned against the running dryer, and watched as one of Matt’s eyebrows arched as he continued folding clothes. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.” He replied, a smile threatening to creep over his mouth. Noticing the knowing tone in his voice, you grew confused.

What you didn’t know, was that Matt knew that it wasn’t just the two of you who had spent the night on that sectional couch. He had noticed you spending a lot of time with Carrington, a good friend of the host. He watched the two of you throughout the night — he saw you touch him any chance you got; saw you dance on him once you got really drunk; and most definitely saw you press your lips to his at the end of the night. So, late last night as he tried his best to sleep, when he heard the creek of the stairs and felt the dip in the couch, he knew that Carrington had laid down with you. That was confirmed when he heard the soft whispers that you two shared before the sound of wet kisses filled the dark room. A moment later, he laid as still as he could as he felt the couch begin to move in a rhythm that could only mean one thing.

Although you and Matt had the type of strong friendship where you both felt comfortable telling the other about your sex lives, never before had either of you been so close in proximity to the act itself. Although he was facing the opposite direction, Matt knew that your feet were only centimetres from his head, and the thought of invading your privacy like this, albeit unintentional, made his cheeks flush red. Even in his belligerent state, Matt had been shocked, and he considered making the fact that he was still awake known. Until he heard it.

Your soft moans floated like music in his mind, and they were unlike anything he had heard before. They were angelic, breathless; as if the air was being pushed out of your lungs involuntarily to create the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. The heat that he felt in his cheeks immediately began travelling down his body, right to his growing member. And then, the unmistakable wet sounds of your arousal — surely dripping from you not more than two feet away from his ear — caused his head to spin. The two sounds radiating from you created the perfect harmony, and they made his cock press excruciatingly against his stomach; desperate for some relief.

The movement of the couch — and with it, your moans and wetness — increased in speed. As it did, your soft voice, so familiar and divine, whispered into the quiet room, “I’m gonna cum!” Matt pressed his pelvis into the couch, doing his best to relieve some of the pressure he felt in the tip of his cock. As your moans got louder, his heart pounded faster. Suddenly, as you reached your orgasm and began riding the waves, he felt one of your feet lightly graze his bare back. Goosebumps immediately rose on his skin, and the slight contact in combination with everything he heard was so intense that he thought he was going to cum all over himself.

But just then, the room grew painfully silent once again. After some time, the indistinguishable whispering returned, then the sound of one quick kiss, and finally, the creaking sound of the stairs. You two were alone once again, and in the silence Matt began to question whether or not he had dreamt it all. That was, until he heard your soft voice whisper his name. Immediately, he felt his body react, but stayed as still as possible so that you would think he was asleep. He seemed to do a good enough job, as after not getting a response, you slowly got off the bed and walked to the bathroom.

Once he heard the door click shut, his eyes shot open. The air was filled with the addictive smell of sex, and his cock had grown so hard that it was throbbing. Tentatively, he ran his hand along his shaft still in his boxers and had to stifle a guttural moan from the brief contact. No, he couldn’t do this here. Not when you were in the next room able to walk back through the door at any moment. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep. He would just have to try to get to sleep, and deal with his spiralling brain tomorrow.

Well, now it was tomorrow, and he had spent the entire day thinking about it. When he had woken up to your smiling face asking for a ride home, he had felt riddled with guilt; as if he had taken advantage of you. The guilt was only exemplified when, once he was alone, he had spent every minute thinking about it; his dick growing hard every time he heard your moans in the back of his mind. Even as he slept the day away, he had dreams about it and had even woken himself up by grinding his hips against his mattress. It had been driving him crazy, and now you were standing in front of him, seemingly oblivious to everything that had been running through his mind, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Hello? Earth to Matt?” Your voice pulled him out of his train of thought, and immediately his cheeks flushed when he realized that he had been completely zoned out for god knows how long. “Oh, uh, sorry.” He mumbled, folding the shirt he had in his hands. “You’ve deadass folded and re-folded that shirt like five times. Are you okay?” You asked, concern etched across your face. Gulping, Matt nodded his head. “Shit really? Must be the brain fog.” He forced out a laugh that sounded painful to his own ears, but it seemed to be convincing enough for you, as you once again relaxed against the dryer.

Matt’s focus went back to the pile of clothes in front of him, and as he began organizing the pile of socks, he heard what he had been reimagining over and over again in his mind. That now achingly familiar soft moan of yours. His whole body jolted in shock, the sound much more vivid than it had been in his memory. Slowly, his eyes were pulled from the laundry to your face, and he found your eyes shut in ecstasy as you leaned against the running dryer. His jaw almost dropped at the sight, and his cock, already having been on high alert all day, immediately responded.

“This feels so good.” You whispered, just as you had the night before, and Matt had to brace himself against the washing machine to stay upright. Your eyes were still closed, a small smile crept onto your full lips, and in that moment it all became too much for him. His cock was pulsing in rhythm with his rapid heartbeat, and as you released another small moan and bit your bottom lip, he began to wonder if maybe — just maybe — you had wanted him to hear you last night.

His hunch grew stronger and stronger as he continued to take in your expression with your back pressed against the dryer, and he felt the shame strip off of him as your hooded eyes finally opened slowly. They landed on his dilated eyes and slowly trailed down to the impressive bulge in his pants. Looking back up at his flushed face, you couldn’t help but smile shamelessly. Because he had been right.

It hadn’t been planned, of course, but once Carrington pushed himself into you, the thought of Matt being just on the other side of the couch filled you with a new and unfamiliar level of arousal. So as you moaned, you hoped that he would hear it. The thought of him listening caused you to grow more wet than you ever had before, and it didn’t take long for you to finish. As you came, you purposefully brushed your foot against him; trying to let him know that it was him you were thinking about as you unraveled.

You hadn’t been sure that he heard you, after all when you whispered his name he hadn’t answered, but the way he had been acting since you arrived at his house today — zoning out, avoiding eye contact, and seeming extremely flustered — you know that he knows. And knowing the effect it had on him, you want him to do something about it.

Matt watched as you put both hands on the dryer before hoisting yourself up to sit on it. With the dryer running, the vibration that came from it shot right to your core, and subconsciously your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Matt watched, completely stunned, as you pleasured yourself on top of the dryer. He was in such a state of shock that he wasn’t even sure if this was real life. You rolled your hips once, twice, against the machine, and then suddenly your eyes were on him again. The pleasure you were experiencing was etched into your face — your full lips a dark shade of red, dark eyebrows knit together, pink cheeks flushed — and it drove him crazy. But it wasn’t until your lips turned up in a small smile and you grabbed his arm, pulling him towards you, that he was finally able to move.

“You heard me last night, didn’t you.” You finally regarded the elephant in the room, and watched as his eyes bulged slightly in surprise at your knowing gaze. Very slightly, he nodded his head; his eyes were planted on your lips. “Should we talk about it?” You asked, dragging your fingertips up and down his torso slowly; feeling his stomach tense each time you reached below his belly button. Still hypnotized by your lips, Matt placed his hands on each side of your face before shaking his head no.

Without hesitation, he engulfed your mouth with his own. They moved with a quivering desperation that can’t be sufficiently described with words. His hands ran through your hair, pulling you as close to him as he could. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, gasping at the feeling of his rock hard member pressing against your aching core. It seemed to affect him too, because as soon as they made contact a small grunt fell from his lips and landed on yours.

Matt’s hands eventually moved from your hair and snaked down to your waist, where he quickly pulled your loose-fitting sundress up and exposed your bare tits. You watched as he took a moment to admire their fullness before bringing his mouth to one. He nibbled and sucked on your sensitive nipple, shooting rays of pleasure down your spine. As he moved his mouth to your second tit, he gripped harshly onto your hips. With his grasp, he expertly titled your pelvis in such a way where your cunt was pressed directly against the dryer; causing moans to spill from your mouth from the vibration.

As he helped you roll your hips against the warm metal, he struggled to keep his composure as he heard you moan for himfor the first time. Just like last night, they were soft and breathy, as if you didn’t even notice them falling from your lips. But his ears caught every single one, and they drove him crazier each time. Looking down to where your body connected with the machine, his vision grew blurry as he noticed the fluid that had accumulated on top of the dryer; the same fluid that he had heard last night. “Mmm, so wet already?” He managed to purr in your ear, causing you to shudder in pleasure.

You nodded, letting your head fall back as the pleasure intensified by his words. “F-for you Matt— fuck! — all f-for you.” At your words, Matt stopped all of his movements, afraid that he would fall apart in seconds if you kept speaking like that. Looking up at your disoriented face, he noticed that the loss of friction was making you antsy. You hooked a small finger in his chain and pulled his lips to yours; kissing him deeply as his tongue swiped against your teeth begging for entrance. You pulled away, needing more than a kiss, and watched in awe as Matt read your mind and dropped to his knees in front of you. He brought his hands up to your hips where he grabbed onto the sides of your thong, slowly sliding it down your legs.

You watched, chest heaving, as he tossed your discarded thong into his pile of laundry that still needed to be washed without letting his eyes leave your dripping core. His eyes on you like this was exactly what you imagined as you thought of him last night, and the neediness in his blue eyes threw you into an erotic frenzy. He grabbed both of your legs and, after stroking them thoughtlessly for a few seconds, placed them on both of his shoulders. Eyes flittering between your core and your face, he spoke, “Need a taste.” His voice was gruff with arousal, and you responded by lacing your hands through his hair and pushing his beautiful face in between your legs.

As soon as his tongue ran up your slit to collect your arousal, he lost any hint of sanity that he still had. You were so sweet against his tastebuds, and so soft against his lips, it took everything out of him to not cream his pants. Instead, he effortlessly found your aching clit and began sucking and kissing the sensitive bundle of nerves. Already stimulated by the dryer, you felt yourself melt under the pressure of his tongue. He couldn’t stop himself from moaning against you, causing the vibration to echo through your entire body. You mindlessly began grinding yourself against his face, chasing a high so intense that nothing else seemed to matter.

Matt relished in the feeling of suffocating by you, and used his hands to spread you apart. He pulled away for a brief moment to take a look at you stretched open for him, and the sight of your dripping hole — begging, without words, to be filled — made him want to pull his cock out and slam it into you immediately. But no, he was going to savour this. So instead, he spit onto your cunt and began tongue fucking your hole. As he eagerly drank up all your juices, his tongue moving in and out of you quickly, you lost the ability to stifle your moans.

Even though he knew you were getting too loud — after all, Nick and Chris were somewhere in the house — Matt couldn’t get himself to shut you up. The sounds that fell from your lips were like music to his ears, and he wanted to listen to them forever. Besides, how could he tell you that you were being too loud when he was making all sorts of erotic noises with his mouth against your cunt?

Your head fell back against the dryer, it wouldn’t be long until you came. The build up was so intense, so good, that you almost didn’t want it to end. Plus, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Matt’s poor cock, suffocating in his pants. As you imagined it, veiny and dark red at the tip, your mouth began to water. After coming back from the washroom and getting back on the couch last night, you glanced at Matt’s still frame and wondered if — even subconsciously, if he hadbeen sleeping — his body had reacted to what had happened. Your suspicion was furthered the next morning. When you went to wake him up to ask if he could drive you home, the blanket had slipped off of his lower body and exposed the imprint of his hardened cock; and your mouth watered. Since then, you had fantasized about taking all of him in your mouth as an apology for not helping him out that morning.

These thoughts raced through your bleary mind, and the pressure continued to increase in your lower stomach at Matt’s relentless tongue in between your legs. You wanted to cum, badly, but even more than that you wanted to get a taste of him. Just the thought of his warm cock in your throat caused your back to arch and a moan to slip from your lips, so in a frenzy you grabbed his jaw and pulled his mouth from your core. Cool air quickly replaced his warm tongue, and you cringed at the loss of contact. Matt looked up at you, his eyes hooded in contentment and his lips and chin coated with your arousal. “What’s wrong?” He asked, taking in your expression.

Without saying anything, you turned your body so that you were now facing the wall behind the dryer. Carefully, you lowered your torso so that you were now laying against the machine, legs bent and facing away from Matt; your view now being his frame upside down. Confused, Matt took a few steps back so that he could look at your face. You lock eyes with him, and he chuckles softly. “What are you doing?” His voice is still deeper than usual, and your view of his bulge makes it clear that he is in desperate need of you. “Want you to fuck my throat.” You replied simply, watching as his eyes darken in arousal while his eyebrows knit together in relief.

Without hesitation, Matt begins frantically removing his grey sweatpants. His cock has been achingly hard since last night with little to no relief, and your words shot straight to it. The filthy talk falling from your lips was still so foreign to him, but that unfamiliarity was addicting. He pulled his boxers down and finally freed his cock from its restraint, and even the feeling of it slapping his stomach on release was enough to make him shudder in pleasure.

As soon as your eyes fell to his exposed cock, your mouth watered. It was so perfect, so plump, you couldn’t wait to wrap your lips around it. As he took a step forward, you impatiently opened your mouth wide; not wanting to wait another second. Luckily, the feeling was mutual, and after tapping your mouth with his cock twice, he slides just the tip in. Already, the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him causes him to see stars, and he doesn’t even move for a few moments as you swirl your tongue around his tip. You find the bead of pre-cum dripping from his slit, and lap it up indulgently.

You want more of him, so in a desperate act you begin trying to bob your head while upside down in order to travel down his shaft. Your desperation gets to Matt, and, recognizing that you want more of him, he begins thrusting his hips slowly into your mouth. Even with only half of him in your mouth, you can feel his tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, and all it does is make you want more. You wrap your lips as tightly as you can around his girth, and the hushed groans that fall from his lips tell you that he’s enjoying himself.

You begin to grow frustrated, not content with the fact that you haven’t had all of him in your mouth yet. So you reach up and grab firmly on his hips, opening your throat to allow his entire length access as you pushed him forward. Matt hissed, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock sinking deeper into your throat, and that was when he lost all control.

Matt grabbed onto the sides of your neck to brace himself before finally driving his cock all the way down your throat. He started slow, sliding it all the way down, holding it in place for a moment, and then pulling it nearly all the way out before doing it all over again; but once he realized that not only could you take all of him, but that you also enjoyed it, he started picking up the pace. He watched your throat as he fucked it, and noticed that he could actually see his cock going all the way down it; causing his vision to go blurry. “Fuck, baby.” He moaned out, his voice shaky as he struggled to not lose himself.

You were in heaven, the feeling of his cock filling your throat caused your body to flood with heat, and you couldn’t stop your hand from finding your clit and rubbing it in rhythm with Matt’s thrusts. Noticing your hand, Matt quickly swatted it away before replacing it with his own; the softness of your wet cunt enough to cause his cock to twitch; threatening to shoot his seed down your throat. But he didn’t want to cum; not until he felt all of you.

In the blink of an eye, he pulled his dripping cock out of your throat; causing you to gasp for air. Before you had the chance to question anything, he grabbed you under your arms and pulled you off of the dryer before slamming you against the wall in the hallway. The wind was knocked out of you, but Matt didn’t give you a minute to recover before lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist; keeping you pressed to the wall. His mouth found yours again, and the taste of you on his explorative tongue was enticing. With his mouth still on yours, the tip of Matt’s cock practically finds your opening itself, and it was so hard he didn’t even have to stabilize it with his hand before it slipped into you; stretching your walls and filling you up completely.

As soon as he bottomed out, he released a deep, guttural moan that echoed in your ears. Fighting a moan of your own, you grabbed the back of his neck. “Shh!” You whispered, looking into his eyes through droopy eyelashes. He snapped his cock into you. “You didn’t seem too concerned with staying quiet last night.” Matt’s words were strained as he tried to control his thrusts. Still looking at him in the eyes, a sinister smile crosses your face at him actually wanting to talk about last night for the first time.

He picked up on the reasoning behind your smile, and he snapped his hips again; causing you to yelp. “So you did want me to hear, hmm?” His head moved to the crook of your neck, and his lips against your ear caused goosebumps to raise on your skin. As he thrusted into you, all you could do was nod. “Do you know — ah fuck — do you know how bad my cock has been aching for you all day?” His words caused the pressure in your stomach to triple, and the thought of him being desperate to be inside of you caused your back to arch against the wall.

“M-made me feel like a creep all day, and for what? Hmm?” Matt grabbed your jaw and made you face him. He continued driving himself into you as he stared lustfully at your face. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip and you opened your mouth; letting his thumb fall in before wrapping your lips around it and sucking innocently. “Fuck baby,” He grumbled, watching your lips as your tongue swirled around his thumb. “Tell me.” His eyes were pleading with you, and you knew he was close, but he wasn’t gonna cum until you told him the truth. “W-wanted you to k-know what it’s l-like — fucking me. Wanted y-your cock h-hard for me.” You managed to tell him the truth. “Jesus Christ.” Matt moaned out in response, grabbing the base of your hair before slamming his cock in and out of you faster than he had before. Each time his cock hit your g-spot, your head slammed against the wall behind you; adding a new intensity to the fast-approaching orgasm you were feeling.

“Shit, gonna cum. Where do you want me?” His voice was ragged, as was his pace, and the desperation laced throughout the sloppiness drew you even closer to the edge. “As deep as you can get Matty.” You whispered in his ear just before you were overtaken by your own orgasm. As he continued to thrust into you, you felt your walls convulse around his girth. Your legs wrapped even tighter around his waist, toes curling as the waves of your orgasm crashed around you.

As you were still in the middle of cumming all over him, Matt suddenly snapped his cock hard and deep into you; spilling his seed deep in your guts, just like you asked, as a deep ragged moan fell from his mouth. Your hungry cunt milked his dick dry, and the intensity of filling you up with the nut that had been debilitating him all day was like no other orgasm he had ever experienced.

You could feel his cock twitch repeatedly as he filled your insides with his hot white cum, and his soft moans of pure relief in your ear were as continuous as your own as you both fell into a deep trance. As you both came down from your highs, Matt held you against the wall; brushing his fingertips softly against the skin on your upper thigh. You had never had sex so satisfying, so deliciously exhausting, and you were in such a haze that you could have easily fallen asleep right there, pressed against the wall.

But after a few moments, Matt carefully slid his shaft out of you and helped you to your feet. He took a moment to admire you, fixing your hair and pulling down your dress, before leading you to his washroom. “You’re a little psycho, you know that right?” He asked jokingly as he started the shower. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your reflection; evidence of Matt’s touch all over you. You smiled at him as he helped you take off your dress. “I’m sorry.” You replied, to which he rolled his eyes. “No you’re not. But do me a favour, next time you want me to fuck you, just tell me, alright?”

Your stomach did an excited flip from his unexpected words, and you walked into the shower on shaky legs. Turning around to face him standing by the washroom door, you found him staring indulgently at your naked frame. You put your hands on your hips and huffed dramatically. “Okay, get in here. I want you to fuck me.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo

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godslino · 5 months

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HARD LAUNCH | minho drabble. established relationship.

“Do you guys have french fries?”

“Minho.” you hiss, nudging his shin beneath the table.

He cocks an eyebrow before turning back to the waitress. She smiles softly, laughing at the two of you.

“We do, yes.”

“Wonderful,” Minho grins, “We’ll have a side order of those too.”

“Perfect. I’ll put that in for you guys and check back soon.” The waitress says happily, collecting the menus and scurrying off to tend to another table.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, you groan, covering your face with your hands.

“Why would you do that?”

Minho chuckles, shakes his head probably. You wouldn’t know since you can’t see him.

“Do what?”

Still using one hand to cover your eyes, you pull the other away, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “I told you I’d be fine. Why’d you have to ask for french fries? That’s so embarrassing.”

Minho hums. Unbothered. “You know what’s worse?”

“Literally nothing.” you mumble, returning your other hand to your face. It only serves to muffle your voice more. “This is humiliating. We’re in a nice restaurant and you ordered french fries because of me. Oh God. I’m going to hide in the bathroom.”

A good choice, you think. Minho’s in god damn slacks for crying out loud. Every second that passes is another second that your pity order of french fries is probably spending in the deep fryer, right next to the lobster tail and shrimp tartar that everyone else has a mature enough palate to eat.

Before you can move to get up and make a beeline for the toilet, you feel Minho’s fingers wrap around your wrists, pulling until your hands give way to your face. You crack one eye open and then the other, his amused expression coming into view.

“What’s worse than ordering french fries is me knowing you’ll be hungry if there isn’t something familiar for you on the table.” he says pointedly, like your reason for feeling embarrassed is unnecessary. “Besides, who said I didn’t want any?”

“Min, look around,” you say, turning your head to glance at the room, “The napkins are cloth. Cloth! Nicer than my bed sheets. We can’t be seen eating french fries in a place like this. I told you I’d be—”

“—fine. Because as long as you’re here I can do anything.” Minho recites, word for word, cutting you off.

Heat rushes to your cheeks immediately, spreads like wildfire when Minho smiles and leans on to his forearms. His button up tightens over his shoulders, hugs his arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

“Just like how you’re doing this for me, let me do something for you.”

You and Minho have been seeing each other for four months now, but even at that, you’re still not used to his straightforwardness.

Seeing Minho has been nothing short of a dream. What started as just interacting at parties because of mutual friends eventually gave way to him asking for your number, and then hanging out separate from your friend group, until one day he plucked up the courage to ask you out. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable, always spending every free moment together. Laughing, talking, even sometimes just existing in the same space. It’s nice. So, so nice.

“Shouldn’t I be the one blushing right now?” Minho teases.

“Shut up.” you say, tearing your gaze away from him.

He laughs again before reaching out and placing a hand on top of yours. Soft. Minho is unbelievably soft.

It’s the thing you love the most about him. But more than that, more than the delicate skin of his fingers or the brush of his lips against yours, you love the softness of his eyes.

Minho is hard to crack, his emotions shrouded most of the time. Not that he wants to be, but because that’s just how he operates, or so you’ve learned.

But despite all of that, his eyes are a dead giveaway. When he’s looking at pictures of his cats, or staring at you from across the room, or right now as steaming plates of some of the finest cuisine Seoul has to offer are being placed in front of him.

“Holy shit.” he whispers, staring in awe as the waitress walks away from the table.

“Is it rude for me to take a picture? Like, would anyone get offended?”

Minho scoffs. “Babe, I would be offended if you didn’t document this right now.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pulling out your phone.

“Do I get to be in it this time?”

You look up to find Minho pouting across the table. Another thing about your relationship— nobody knows yet.

You’ve been teasing about the possibility of a boyfriend for two months now, you and Minho only having made it official about a few weeks ago. The most anyone has been able to see are carefully positioned photos where only his hand or other inconspicuous parts of him are visible.

It’s not that you don’t want people to know. It’s just hard with his job and all. Privacy reasons.

"For someone who likes to claim that people won't give me a hard time because of your fame you sure do seem eager to test that theory."

Minho smiles mischievously. “Well, yes. But I’m also waiting because I want to show you off.”

You busy yourself with opening your camera app to stop the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. You big flirt.”

Minho laughs but obliges, scoots back to let you get a good few pictures of the food.

Photos aren’t enough to do it justice, though. So you opt for a video, scanning the table with your camera, only the bottom half of his torso visible across the table. A silk white button up only three-fourths of the way buttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows.

Minho watches silently, his face unreadable. And then, at the last second, he dips his head down so fast you don’t even realize what’s happening until his face is fully in the shot, a shit-eating grin pushing his eyes into crescent moons.

“Min!” you laugh, ending the recording.

He chuckles, straightening back out. “Post it.”

“Are you insane?”

“No, but I’m going to be if you don’t post it and then eat with me.” He nudges the plate of french fries towards you. “Come on.”

“You really want me to post it? You’re sure?”

Minho smiles. Soft. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.” he says, neither of you willing to address the weight of his words.

He grabs your hand, plants a kiss on the back of your knuckles. The resulting flip of your stomach is enough to give you the courage to hit post and tuck your phone away.

Whatever happens, you’ll deal with it later. Together.

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kotohq · 5 months

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##. BABY, THINGS I WANNA SAY TO YOU

♡ How you (accidentally) came to know his feelings for you

♡ Contents & warnings: secondhand embarrassment (major on hiiragi and umemiya's part), unestablished relationships but implied mutual feelings, humor (this was not written seriously), manga character spoilers, not proofread, reader is addressed as pretty (umemiya)

♡ Characters: sakura haruka, kaji ren, hiiragi touma, suou hayato, umemiya hajime (xgn! reader)

To be honest, Sakura Haruka is truly the king of not being subtle about his feelings. This boy will literally stare (he thinks it’s a stare, but he doesn’t know he’s furrowing his brows and squinting his eyes like he’s glaring at you) at you at every wake moment that you two are in each other’s presence but when you turn your head to acknowledge his presence, he flushes a deep shade of red and comically turns his head away to avert his gaze from yours.

And, of course, having someone bore holes into the side of your head isn’t a particularly nice feeling so one day you jokingly confront him by saying: “hey, Sakura-kun, why are you always staring at me? Are you in love with me or something?” and you swear you meant it as a joke, and you fully expected him to call you stupid and tell you to stop joking around. But!! When the only reaction you pulled out of him were flustered stammers and reddened ears, you knew you accidentally threw the dart right on the bullseye.

As if things weren’t awkward enough, he had to poorly defend himself (and confirm his infatuation further) by saying “and what of it?! What if it’s true that I like you, huh?!” congratulations on the first “oh.” moment of your life, you’ll have to pay for it by communicating with this boy. Good luck and don’t tease him too much because he might explode.

Ah, yes. Kaji Ren. The king of not confessing. He’s not someone who falls in love or falls out of love easily so he’s probably been pining over you since middle school, and everyone who went to the same middle school with him probably knows how dumb in love he is with you.

And that is why Ren’s good friend since middle school, Sako, broke into a sweat when he accidentally came across Ren, after accidentally meeting you. The thing is, Sako also considers you a good friend from middle school, so when he met you by accident while walking around to find the new trendy dessert, he didn’t deny your invitation to hang out. And that is because he didn’t take into account that this will happen, that his good friend would see him walking around with said good friend’s crush. It’s only when he meets eyes with Ren that he realizes how bad everything looks. You and Sako, hanging out. Just the two of you.

At the sight of Ren’s shock-widened eyes, Sako, feels his panic meter rising to 100 real quick. He’s not about to be dubbed as someone who steals his friends’ crush, not today.

“D-don’t get the wrong idea! I met them by accident while walking aroundー” he blurts out in a haze of alarm, briefly turning his head to you for confirmation. You give a nod, and he continues his panicked rambling, which is probably the worst single decision he’s ever going to make in his entire 15 years of living.

“ーand there’s no way I’ll go on a date with someone that you’ve liked for 3 years!”

Immediately after hearing Sako’s explanation, you and Ren chime a “what?” simultaneously. you in confusion, and Ren in disbelief because no way those years he spent pining over you was just outed like that. And then Sako makes some half baked excuse to leave you two alone to talk as if he wasn't the one who made this mess in the first place, like wtf bro clean it up. Good luck communicating with this one too, assuming he hasn’t run off in embarrassment, that is.

Hiiragi Touma the chad!! He actually has the balls to confess, I love this man. He planned it meticulously too, like what he’s gonna say, at what place, what his reply is gonna be depending on your answer, yada yada, you name it, he’s got it all prepared. And right now the timing is right, he’s got you in a secluded place so he can save both of you the embarrassment of having anyone hear an intimate moment, he’s even got his hand latched onto your wrist too. He gulps a bile in his throat so he doesn’t stutter when he tells you exactly what he’s been dying to tell you.

“Listen, I have something to tell you,” he sucks in a heavy breath, he feels like his lung is gonna run out of air soon from the nervousness. He’s prepared, he just needs to say it. say the three words.

“I like—” “oh, Hiiragi! You already confessed to them? Good for you.”

Hiiragi doesn’t think he’s ever felt his nervousness disappear so fast before, immediately being replaced by anger and pure exasperation. His brain stopped thinking about how your wrist fits nicely in his hand and has instead started repeating the phrase “fuck you, umemiya hajime”.

The glare he gives the Boufuurin leader is harder than any punch he’s thrown in his life and it effectively makes Umemiya disappear behind whatever wall he came from. Feeling awkward and bad for him, you initiate a conversation.

“Hiiragi-” “sorry,” he cuts you off, sinking down to the floor in a squat as absolute exhaustion takes over him, his free hand going up to cover his face. “Sorry. Just… give me a minute and I'll confess to you properly.”

Hiiragi is relieved though when he feels your wrist sliding up from his hand, moving to intertwine your fingers with his. Maybe everything will be okay, after all. Still, fuck umemiya hajime indeed. read the room, man.

Suou Hayato is the king of confessing. Or, he would be, if he didn’t treat it as a joke and asked you to date him everyday jokingly. Now he finds himself stuck in a complicated situation where you don’t ever take his confession(s) seriously and he’s quite in a pinch because he really likes you and wants to seriously date you. He can’t blame anyone but himself, though, because who the hell says “just kidding” after literally confessing that he likes you. Not only that, but he’s setting himself up by saying “let’s date” everyday in such a carefree way that you can’t take it seriously.

Truth to be told, Hayato keeps asking you out because he's still holding on to the hope that something miraculous might happen and you’ll take him seriously. So far, though, it isn’t looking any good. Woe is he. Sorry man, you set yourself up for this yearning.

His yearning gets so bad that one day when he finds you asleep on your desk after school with your head nestled between your arms on top of your desk, he sits on the chair in front of your desk. His hands found themselves mindlessly wandering to your hair, twirling a strand between his fingers and watching the sunset illuminating your hair. He observes your sleeping face for a while, before his hands reach out to give your cheek a gentle poke. He chuckles when you make a funny face and turn your sleeping face away from him. He doesn’t even know why he does what he does next, but he gets close to your head, stopping just beside whatever part of your ear is exposed. Then, he whispers, voice lacking the teasing lilt that it’s usually bathed in.

“You don’t know how much I actually want to date you.”

“Do you really mean that?” he realizes he kinda fucked up but it’s okay because at least you’re aware of his feelings now.

And then Hayato realizes how silly he’s acting so he grabs your shoulder to shake you awake. He gets surprised, though, when your hand suddenly grasps his, holding him in place before he could pull back (let's be real he doesn’t want to, though.).

Umemiya Hajime does have the courage to confess, though. But he’s also kind of afraid that you might not see him in the same way and it’s gonna change his friendship with you so he’d rather wait until he’s certain his feelings aren’t one sided.

But all that logical reasoning gets thrown out of the window when he catches sight of you playing with the orphanage kids. He’s a family man through and through so of course that kinda stops the gears in his head from turning. In any case, though, he’s happy to see you getting along with his younger siblings, though, ecstatic even. Like, it’s to the point that he doesn’t realize he’s staring at you with such a lovesick smile that he might as well make the “hearts in eyes” phrase a real phenomenon.

“I can’t wait to confess to you.” the words trickle from his mouth without consent from his, y’know, logical reasoning. Panic takes over momentarily before he realizes you didn’t hear what he just said because your ears are probably full of the children’s laughter.

You didn't hear. But some of his younger siblings did.

“Onii-chan, is that person the one you like?” as if it wasn’t bad enough that you heard the question, the little girl had to also point straight into your direction. Well, it wouldn’t have mattered if they did or not anyway because the only two teenagers in the room are you and hajime.

“Oh so they’re the one you talk about with heart eyes!” One pipes up. “right! The person whose eyes would sparkle when the sun hits them.” Another one follows. “and the person whose hair looks especially beautiful when it’s illuminated by the setting sun!” You get the gist.

Hajime would think about how cute his younger siblings look with their eyes sparkling with excitement if it weren’t for the fact that he can’t think of anything else because his mind is filled with the sound of his racing heart.

The fact that he talks about you to his younger siblings is exposed in bright daylight, and you’re looking at him with a surprised expression etched on your pretty face.

The discovery his younger siblings made did nothing but successfully make them gush over you even more. Well, who could blame them, their older brother’s crush is right in front of them. Deepest condolences, though, because children are always unnecessarily nosy and stubborn so they’re gonna end up matchmaking you and Hajime. You bet they’re not gonna let you go until you both confess to one another, right in front of them. What a nightmare.

#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader #sakura haruka x reader #suou hayato x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #hiiragi touma x reader #wind breaker x reader #kaji ren x reader

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dramaticals · 10 months

Text

a favour

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: you want to get your mind off of your break-up and theodore knows just what to do. literally just smut. characters are assumed to be 19+. mdni.

author's note: based on a thread i wrote in the rpc, but i excluded any wordings from my writing partner for obvious reasons

You didn't know who else to ask.

You've tried just about every heartbreak remedy out there—guzzling glasses of alcohol being the most recent and detrimental. The only remedy you hadn't tried required another person, and asking for it seemed to be much harder and more embarrassing than you thought.

In theory, you should be doing what any normal person would do when they want to get over an ex: find some stranger at a bar and have at it. But you're convinced the looming grey cloud that seemed to follow you around was enough to deter any stranger, regardless of whether sex was involved.

Which is why you were standing in front of Theodore Nott's place with a ridiculous and crude request on the tip of your tongue.

You and Theodore Nott weren't exactly friends. Friends of friends, more like. You two ran in the same circles, but there had never really been an opportunity or a reason to hang out one-on-one.

Even so, you knew the type of guy he was. Theo was as charming as he was alluring. He had that aura around him that just screamed lothario. And he was—at least, that's what you heard. Your mutual friends often teased him about his latest conquests, to which he'd respond with a smirk and a dismissive, "If you want me to fuck you next, all you have to do is ask."

"Y/N," Theo says. He leans against the doorframe of his apartment coolly, brows raising in question at your visit and curious eyes giving you a once-over. The way his arctic green eyes lingered on your body made you flush.

"Hey," You say breathlessly, fingernails digging into the palm of your hand out of pure nervousness. You didn't think it would be so hard to come out and just say it. "Can I ask you for a favour?"

"A favour," Theo repeats, his lips twitching into his signature smirk. By the way he was looking at you, you swear he knows what you want from him. "Depends. What do you need?"

"Could you help me get over my ex?"

Theodore's brows raise, his eyes flashing in smug amusement. He definitely knew why you were here.

"I can think of a few ways to distract you." He says slowly, eyes trained on yours. There's a teasing tone in his next words as he lists, "Movies, puzzles, bourbon..."

"Actually," you interrupt, your gaze flickering anywhere but his eyes. Your heart's practically beating out of your chest now. His intense gaze was doing a number on you, and you suddenly understood every woman he'd ever slept with. Theo knew exactly how to work a woman in the simplest way possible. "I was thinking of something more effective than that."

"Oh? And what may that be?" Theo asks as if he already didn't know. He just wanted you to say it.

You inhale sharply, your eyes meeting his again. "I want you to fuck me."

Theo lets out a breath, his lips twisting into a mischievous grin. "Gladly."

Theo beckons you inside before shutting the door and turning the lock. He wastes no time closing in the space between you two. Strong hands pull you close as his lips ghost over yours teasingly. You can practically feel his smirk on your lips, and it makes you shiver.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." Theo says huskily against your lips.

There's no time to process his words before his lips are on yours. You gasp against his mouth, allowing him the opportunity to slip his tongue in. He steps forward, guiding you backwards until you're pinned against the door. Your hands reach to cup his jawline, kissing Theo back with as much passion as he was giving you.

He lets out a groan against you, and it strikes a fire within you and to your core. God, you needed to hear more of that.

Feverish kisses turn into teasing, nipping kisses down your neck. His rough hands slide down your frame, his leg expertly maneuvering between yours and pinning you in place. You whine at the pressure, throwing your head back in response.

"Fuck, Theo," you breathe, your fingers running through his brown curls.

He lets out a low chuckle against your collarbone, clearly eating up every second of this favour. You were so receptive to his actions that a part of him wanted to drag this whole ordeal out.

His hands tug at your sweatshirt, expertly removing the garment. He hisses when he realizes that was the only barrier he had to deal with. The cool air of his apartment, along with his lips on your chest, made your nipples perk. Your back arches into his mouth.

Theo flicks his tongue against your breast, teeth grazing lightly as he pulls away to say, "So fucking beautiful."

You could just melt into him. The way he was working you was unlike anyone you've ever experienced before. And the way his hands hooked onto the hem of your skirt and knickers, pulling them down swiftly—fuck.

One hand moves to capture both your wrists, lifting them both up and holding them above you firmly. His other hand finds its way to your core, toying with your slick folds before inserting a digit.

You let out a desperate whimper. You want to grip onto something, but his hold on your wrists is solid, and it only makes your hips buck into him.

"Eager, are we?" Theo muses, his lips planting a sweet kiss on yours. He watches you attentively as he slowly inserts another digit. Slow enough to really take notice of your wetness on his fingers. Theo smirks when your breath hitches.

"Theo," you gasp. "Please."

Theo kindly obliges, curling his fingers inside you and flicking repeatedly against the spot that made your knees buckle and your heart soar. His grip on your wrists tightened in part that you could no longer keep yourself standing.

"Oh my god. I need—" you moan, your eyes shutting in pleasure.

"What do you need, darling?" Theo asks smoothly, his fingers continuing their motions inside you. His eyes are dark with lust. He plants a kiss on your jaw.

"You." You manage to get out, squirming against his fingers. You're so close.

Theo was feeling too fucking smug seeing you unravel like this, and so it's another second before he's sliding his fingers out of you and letting go of your wrists. You whine at the loss of contact, your eyes shooting open in confusion.

Theo's discarding his shirt, untying his sweatpants, and shoving off his boxers. You bite your lip at the sight of him. You didn't think he could be any more sexy.

"Like what you see?" Theo quips with a sly smile. His hands move to your hips and then to your thigh, guiding your leg up around him. He guides himself to brush against your core teasingly. You jerk at the contact.

"Theodore," you warn. You don't know how much more foreplay you can take.

With a pompous grin, Theo sinks into you roughly. He grunts in pleasure, reveling in the feeling of your dripping cunt around him.

"Fucking hell, Y/N," Theo groans, setting up a torturous rhythm of thrusts. You feel the pleasure bubbling in your core, your fingernails dragging across his bare back.

Theo buries his face in the crook of your neck, leaving sweet kisses on your skin. The sensation of his soft, tender lips on your neck versus the primal thrusts into you made you want to scream.

Theo senses this, and he relentlessly continues his movements. He's quite close himself, his cock twitching in response to your body. But considering this was a favour to you, he holds himself back. You needed to come first.

And you do.

You release a panting whine just as the building pleasure finally washes over you. You grip onto the locks of his hair on the base of his neck for support, coming undone in his strong arms. Theo moans, feeling you clench around him, before allowing himself to come.

You slump forward into Theo, your forehead resting on his chest. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, now more than ever needing the support his strong frame provided.

"That'll definitely do," you say with a weak nod.

You can't see his face, but you can practically see the shit-eating grin on his lips.

#theodore nott smut #theo nott smut #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theodore nott fanfiction #*writing

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kooktrash · 1 year

Text

cool with you | jeon jungkook

summary: your break up from kim taehyung sent you spiraling into what felt like a midlife crisis of tear stained cheeks and tubs of half eaten ice cream with a broken heart. after finding out that your neighbor, jeon jungkook, was eavesdropping on your meltdowns and came to find out that your ex was his old friend, he found himself wanting to comfort you. he knew the kind of guy Taehyung was and he didn’t want to see you beat yourself up over a guy who wasn’t worth it so in the end he helped you through it and was unable to ignore the growing attraction you felt toward each other.

➣ genre/au: strangers to friends to lovers. smut. afab!reader [she/her] x neighbor!jk

➣ 14.6k words

warnings: f2l. s2l. oc dated Tae but only implied. tae is kinda an asshole. jk likes to mind his business but his neighbor was loud af. he jumps into a pool with oc. oc is a hot mess and a little crazy. unprotected intercourse. couch sex. mutual masturbation. rising. missionary. jk had a big one 😛. shirtless jk. he literally just be picking up oc whenever he feels like it. oc lowkey stresses him out like all the time. tae did Jk dirty before. mutual pining. heavy petting. make out. idk y’all this jk kinda deserves the world.

song inspo: cool with you — new jeans [you know me like no other]

Jungkook was not the type to care, and that’s him putting it simply. He considered himself an average guy, he had friends and he went out and he studied well. He went to parties and stayed in to play video games, very average. The girls he hooked up with always knew he wasn’t looking for anything serious and the guys he hung out with were as carefree as he was. The point is, he does his own thing and stays out of drama, that’s how he likes it.

He does everything he can to stay out of

complicated situations, so when he overheard something he definitely shouldn't have… he tried to ignore it.

“Yes, we broke up.”

All he wanted was to enjoy his cigarette on his balcony without having to listen in on his neighbor’s phone call because they had their window open.

“No, I am not crying.”

It sounds like you are.

“I swear, I’m not.”

Jungkook swears you were. He doesn’t care… he’s just nosy and it’s not like he could ignore how loud you were. It was actually a surprise, he’s never interacted with you aside from the occasional pounding on the wall to tell him to keep it down. He finds it rare whenever you’re the one being louder than he was and on this particular night he couldn’t help but listen in on your conversation.

“I already got all my things out of Taehyung’s place, we’re done, seriously.”

A cloud of smoke covered the air above him as he released an exhale and hit the cigarette against his ashtray to get some of the excess ash off. A small smirk came to his face as he came to realize what a hypocrite he was. After going on and on about being a drama free dude, he stands here to listen to his neighbor talk about Taehyung, this mysterious ex of yours.

Funny thing actually, Jungkook used to know a guy named Taehyung. It was a somewhat common name, maybe, and it sounded similar to others so maybe he’s just hearing wrong but it was funny nonetheless—especially if Taehyung really was the right name.

“I'm just over it now, it was always the same thing with him,” your voice sounded a bit clearer now and he honestly forgot he was even eavesdropping, “Kim Taehyung doesn’t care about anybody but himself and I’m just tired of following him around.”

The cigarette dangling between his teeth as he glanced over to your balcony almost fell when his eyes met yours. You had already stopped talking but you stood at your open window now, phone in your hand, and looking right at him. Like usual, you didn’t acknowledge each other aside from a quick up and down stare and when it became clear to you that he heard it all, you slammed your window shut with a glare.

Jungkook snatched the cigarette from his lips and quickly put it out before taking a step back so he could close his window too. He immediately threw himself down on his couch reaching for his PS5 controller and scrolling through his friends, inviting random ones to log on and play him.

It was a lazy, peaceful night, for him at least.

You stared at the picture in your Snapchat memories with disgust. You were in the second stage of grief, ‘anger’, and every stupid picture of Taehyung that popped up on your phone just pissed you off.

One year. 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days with that guy just for him to bring up a break up on your anniversary? What a fucking asshole.

“I hate men,” you said mindlessly as you swung your legs back and forth on the edge of your friend’s bed, “No offense.”

“None taken,” Jimin walked around the bed, picking up whatever mess he had on the floor, “But I still can’t believe it’s been a week already. How does it feel to officially be single again? Have you talked to him?”

You released a scoff, “Not after I got all my things.”

Here’s the thing, despite the argument you had before the break up, it felt so out of the blue. You didn’t think that a conversation over the fact that he prioritized quite literally everything else but you. His photography was more important, his friends were, his gaming was… everything and when you brought it up to him an argument ensued and boom:

“If you feel that way then maybe we should just break it off, Y/n.”

“Fine, maybe we should.”

And that’s how you found yourself single and heartbroken on the day that was supposed to be your one year anniversary.

Now you’re at your friend’s house having to recount everything that happened the other night because despite telling him everything on the phone and through texts, Jimin still needed an in-person retelling.

After a while of being bored with nothing to do at his place, you decided to move it to yours where you planned to also do nothing and be bored—but with a change of scenery. He drove you both back to your apartment with no desire to do anything but continue to shit talk just in a new environment. The drive wasn’t long at all and it didn’t take much time for the two of you to be trudging up the three flights of stairs to your floor talking about whatever came to mind.

The second you got even close to your door, you heard it. Your neighbor, like usual, was being loud. From the way he was yelling you could tell he’s playing some video game right now and he never had a sense of awareness when he’s in a match. You let out a sigh as you struggled with your key for a minute and Jimin looked to your neighbor’s door, “The walls are paper thin, aren’t they?”

“Yup,” you huffed, finally pushing your door open, “And he’s always loud like that. You should hear when he has a girl over.”

“Is that why you were always at Taehyung’s?” He asked you.

“Kind of? He hasn’t lived here for long but ever since then he’s just been driving me crazy,” you told him as you looked for your remote control to turn the tv on. Jimin couldn’t help but smirk as an idea came to mind.

“You should sleep with him,” he said as he plopped down on your couch, “Nice little rebound sex and if you hear him having sex then that’s gotta mean he’s good.”

You rolled your eyes joining him on the couch, “Shut up, why don’t you go and see, yourself then?”

“Not my type.”

“You haven’t even seen him.”

“I just know,” Jimin said.

The topic of your neighbor fell once your friend and you got bored of it and found something else to do.

That night, after Jimin had left, you found yourself in a strange predicament. Now that you’re alone with your thoughts you couldn’t help but think about your ex again and that led to where you are now:

With a tub of half eaten ice cream in front of you and large, unnecessary crocodile tears falling down your cheeks. Some sad Taylor Swift played loudly in the background and you found yourself singing along annoyingly hiccuping while crying.

“NOW IM IN EXILE SEEING YOU OUT.”

Just next door, your neighbor was busy on his own. Well, okay, he’s not busy but he was trying to nap. He worked practically all night last night and he hasn’t been able to catch up on his sleep. He would’ve been asleep already if his neighbor wasn’t blurting out the wrong lyrics to Taylor Swift on the other side of the drywall. He was beginning to understand how annoyed you would get whenever he was too loud.

He tried to ignore it for a while but when the sad songs changed to upbeat ones that have you belching the lyrics loudly, he couldn’t take it anymore. He stormed out of his apartment and right next door where he pounded on the door loudly, hearing you scream.

It took you a moment to realize someone was knocking and he could tell because you lowered the music enough to hear him knock. A few seconds later the door opened just slightly and realizing it was your neighbor you opened it a little more.

Jungkook was shocked at the sight of you, bloodshot eyes and smeared mascara as you smiled and said, “Hello?”

He blinked in disbelief at the way you looked but tried moving on past that, accidentally blurting out something he didn’t intend to, “Do you mind keeping it down? I’m trying to sleep and I would rather not hear you sing Taylor Swift extremely off key at the top of your lungs—“

“I’ve gotta listen to you all the time,” you told him with narrowed eyes, glaring at him. He released a sigh, “I know and now I get it but I’ve been listening to pretty much every single part of how your break up went down and that’s not something I’m interested in. Kim Taehyung is not worth all this moping around.”

The words slipped but he knew he messed up when your eyes widened in surprise and before he could apologize and say he didn’t mean to eavesdrop and that you were just so loud, you grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him inside. Jungkook stumbled along, hitting the door on his way in and you shut it behind him asking, “How do you know Taehyung?”

Shit, he thought as he looked down at how close your face was to his, still holding him by his shirt and he had to move your hand before he could answer. He didn’t mean to say that but it just slipped and now he has to explain himself to his hot mess of a neighbor.

“Um,” he waited, trying to piece together how to say it, “I overheard you on the phone the other day and the name was familiar and… well, he’s an old friend of mine.”

“Then why haven’t I ever heard of you? Wait, what’s your name?” You asked.

“Jeon Jungkook, and that’s probably because him and I haven’t been on talking terms in a while,” Jungkook said vaguely, “And you were never really home until, I’m assuming, this break up.”

“It’s because you’re so loud, yourself, that it would drive me insane so I would just spend time at his place instead,” you said honestly as you finally went to turn off the song, at least that’s what he thought, but next thing he knew you were playing the beginning of an anime, Toradora, and singing along to the intro. You didn’t even seem to care he was in here.

“What happened? You guys had a fall out?” You asked, clearly not planning on kicking him out just yet and he walked over to where you sat and joined you, “Who said you could sit on my couch?”

That made him roll his eyes despite not knowing you and he sat anyway, “Uh because you dragged me in here and started asking me questions. I’m not just gonna stand, plus I can’t nap because of you so I guess I’m watching too, who’s your favorite character?”

“Ryuuji, I like his simplicity but I’m a fan of Ami’s too, she’s had the best character growth through the show and manga,” you said as you played a random episode.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Jungkook said making himself comfortable, “I like Ryuuji too, I think he’s a bit misunderstood and I know Taiga bullies him but I don’t know, I like that he’s comfortable with her and the way him and his mom took her in? Heart bursted right there.”

“Yeah, Taiga is just his neighbor but he recognized how hard it was for her to do things on her own and it was like an instant connection between the two. He didn’t mind nurturing her but also helping her see right and wrong, vise versa.” You told him turning the volume up and he nodded.

“What’s your name again?” He asked, hearing you sniffle but not bother to wipe off the mascara that ran down your cheeks. You picked up your ice cream tub and began to eat again, “Y/n.”

“Nice to formally meet you.”

The night was long and Jungkook was stuck at work. He can’t even explain how many drunk people he’s had to turn away already and the night has just begun. His friends stood at his side all doing the same thing, checking IDs, taking entrance fees, stopping bar goers from taking their drinks outside when they leave, etc.

“So your neighbor was dating Taehyung and you didn’t even know?” Namjoon asked as he flashed a light on someone’s driver’s license.

“I had never seen him in our building but to be fair she was rarely home and I didn’t have much of a reason to pay attention,” Jungkook said motioning for a group of guys to enter.

“That’s crazy,” Hoseok said as he came over with a box of donuts, “How long has it been since you and him even talked?”

Jungkook shrugged as he took a hit of his vape, “Like two years? How was I even supposed to know he was in a relationship?”

“True,” Namjoon said, letting another group in, “It doesn’t matter to you, it’s just crazy that your neighbor was the one dating him. Is she cute?”

“Hey, can I hit your vape?” Some girl asked as Jungkook checked her ID. She was cute and dressed for a night out bud he wasn’t even paying attention.

“No,” he said to her but Namjoon made a face that immediately made him backtrack, “I mean, yes she is cute—no to hitting my vape.”

“Ooo, maybe you should comfort her and see where it goes,” Hoseok joked, making Jungkook shake his head no, watching his friend eat a donut.

“Are you crazy? She seems like a lot and I would rather not get involved in any drama with him again. She’s cool though,” Jungkook said before turning to Hoseok again, “Where'd you get the donuts?”

“Some girl,” he said with a shrug, “Want one?”

Jungkook took one and bit into it, “And let me tell you, she seems like a lot to handle so I don’t even get how her and Taehyung got together.”

Namjoon chuckled, “Are you that curious? What happened to staying out of the drama?”

“I mean… that’s what I want but considering she’s loud when she cries it’s kinda hard not to get involved, Y/n sang like six heartbreak songs the other day and I basically got serenaded,” Jungkook said dramatically, “But I’m leaving it alone. I don’t want anything to do with Taehyung and whatever heartbroken girl he left this time.”

By the time they all got off work it was a little past 3:00am and he was absolutely beat. All he wanted to do was get home and make himself some of his special ramen and knock out but as he got to his door it was hard for him to ignore the sounds of pans clattering next door. He knocked on your door before he could stop himself and waited for you to open.

“It’s you again,” you said and you wore a tank top that showed a bit of your mid drift and some plaid boxer shirt with long socks, “Don’t tell me I’m being loud again, I’m so hungry I think I’ll die if I don’t eat something right now.”

You immediately went into a mini rant like he was a friend of yours and although it surprised him, he found himself saying, “I’m hungry too, I’m gonna make ramen, want some?”

Your eyes widened hopefully, “Please?”

“Come over.”

Jungkook wasn’t sure why he even bothered talking to you but he’s gotta be honest… he’s a sucker for girls crying. Listen, he’s been in relationships but he doesn’t care much for them. Of course when he’s actually in one he tends to pay attention to his partner a lot but truthfully, they’re kinda a bother. He’s not saying he wants a relationship with you but he’s been pretty closed off lately and maybe this is a sign that he should try and befriend people outside of his circle.

Anyways, now you’re over at his place and it’s nearly 4:00am but he’s in his kitchen making ramen as you looked through his manga collection.

“Wow, you’re like a weeb,” you said, “You’ve got all the popular ones too. Demon Slayer, Naruto — god awful taste — One Piece, Jesus the whole collection of Attack on Titan? You even got little figurines, yeah you’re a weeb.”

“Hey,” Jungkook glared at you, choosing to ignore your weeb comments in favor of asking, “What’s wrong with Naruto?”

“Nothing,” You said with a shrug, “I just personally don’t trust a man who loves Naruto.”

He couldn’t help but smile as he chuckled, “Okay, I don’t love Naruto but it’s nostalgic—and don’t lie, it’s not that bad.”

“I mean it’s not… but it’s not that good either,” you said, “I’m more of a shoujo girly so just ignore me.”

“Have you even watched it then?”

“Obviously,” you said, finally returning to him, “Are you almost done? I’m starving.”

“Are you always this impatient?” Jungkook asked and it’s strange that neither one of you have taken the time to note that you’re really just strangers. You’re not friends and you’ve barely started interacting but for some reason it felt like you’ve been friends for a long time. There was no awkwardness now and it kills him to know you used to date Taehyung because you’re nothing like him.

It shouldn’t matter to him, and it doesn’t but… it’s just strange. When he was friends with Taehyung it was mostly because they had a lot of history and not because they were similar. Jungkook was very different from him and oftentimes it would lead to unnecessary disagreements that friends shouldn’t have. It’s just hard to imagine your relationship with him and how you’ve landed yourself hanging out with Jungkook instead.

He’s a little uncomfortable with that because of what Taehyung has done in the past and it makes him feel a little guilty to even talk to you when he knows he has no reason to be.

“Yes,” you said, finally drawing his attention back to you, “Always.”

“Well it’s done so grab a bowl, top left cabinet,” he said.

Soon enough the two of you were eating ramen alone together in his apartment. If he explained this to his friends they would immediately make inappropriate jokes of ‘Ramen and Chill’ but it was anything but that. It was just two neighbors up late and hungry.

“So,” Jungkook cleared his throat as he swallowed a huge bite of noodles, “If you don’t care, can I ask what happened between you and your ex.”

“Um,” you hesitated, “I don’t know… if you’re still friends I don’t really want to get into i—“

“We’re not,” Jungkook quickly cut in, “We haven’t been for a while but if you still don’t want to tell me, I get it.”

“No, I’ll tell you,” you finally said and set down your bowl on the kitchen counter that you currently sat on. Jungkook just nodded his head waiting for you to start but it seemed like you were preparing to tell the greatest story of all time.

“Well, he dumped me on our one year anniversary for starters,” you said and that immediately made him cringe at his former friend’s cruel timing, “It sort of happened out of nowhere, I mean I noticed he had gone more quiet on the days leading up to it but I didn’t think it had anything to do with me. Clearly I had been wrong though because he dumped me a few days later like I had been the problem. He texted me a couple days ago asking how I’ve been but I haven’t responded. I’m still mad.”

“Rightfully so,” Jungkook said, taking your empty plate and setting it down in his sink, “Did he ever give you a real reason?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged, “Maybe not, I can’t remember.”

The two of you were quiet for a moment and before he could think of something else to talk about before you left, you asked, “What about you? What happened between you and Kim Taehyung?”

Jungkook didn’t respond right as he debated if it was worth telling you or not. It was years ago and it was never anything that serious but… at the time it had been and they’re clearly still not friends. He raised his shoulders in a shrug, “It’s a long story and not worth it.”

Instead of pushing him to go on you released a tired yawn not caring for how you looked as you hopped off his counter, “Alright well I’m fed and now tired too so I think I’m going to try and sleep a bit before work. You should catch some sleep before you have to go in.”

“I just got off,” Jungkook said as he opened the front door for you, “I’m a club bouncer, sadly.”

“Ooo, maybe you’ve kicked me out before,” you joked, “I can get messy if I’ve had one too many drinks.”

“I’m sure you can,” Jungkook said with a chuckle, “But goodnight, when do you have to wake up?”

“Mm, in like three hours? I work at a coffee shop,” You said, finally stepping out into the hall. His eyes widened before he was fully pushing you out, “Go to sleep, Y/n.”

When you were finally gone and he was alone in his home, he didn’t even make it to his bed and instead passed out on the couch.

You wouldn’t say you and Jungkook have become friends because you don’t actually know if that’s true. What you do know is that for the past week enough you’ve been talking way more to him than your other friends but only because they’re busy. Jimin has already argued with you [very dramatically, you will say] because he’s accused you of getting a new best friend which wasn’t true.

It was just extremely easy to talk to Jungkook, like you’ve been friends for years and he’s slowly helped you forget about Taehyung. He’s not doing anything out of the ordinary but for some reason Jungkook is really good at taking care of people. Take now for instance, he’s decided to come with you grocery shopping because you didn’t have a car and would have to take everything on the train.

Now you two are splitting a grocery cart and both going shopping as you asked, “Jungkook, how come I never hear girls at your place anymore?”

“Hm?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly as he stared at different types of milk, “Because you got annoyed by it.”

That made you smirk a bit as you used to shopping cart for support making it tilt slightly, “Wow, I didn’t realize you’ve grown so considerate of me, Mr. International Playboy.”

“I don’t know why you insist on calling me that, I’ve only slept with one person who wasn’t from here and she was Japan so still not too far,” he said with a sigh as he put things in the cart, “Besides, don’t get too cocky, I just don’t have the time to tell anyone that I’m not looking for anything serious.”

“Mm,” you said, pushing the cart along while he held onto the other end of it and dragged it along, “Well, I don’t even see your friends over. Do you even have friends?”

That made him roll his eyes, “Obviously, I just… I’m antisocial, you know this.”

“Do I?” You asked, picking through boxes of cereal, “You seem pretty social to me.”

“Yeah, well you’re different.”

“Ugh,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, leaving him behind as you kept walking, “I hate when guys so that because they can never explain how—“

“For starters you’re the only person I’ve seen have mascara running down your face while you watch Toradora, that’s different right?” Jungkook teased a bit by bumping into your shoulder when he caught up, “And cry and 3 in the morning because you can’t cook.”

“Okay that doesn’t make me different, that just makes me a hot mess.”

He smiled, “I mean yeah, but you’re not embarrassed. You’re actually kinda fun to be around and when we talk we can just talk about anything, y’know? That’s what makes you different.”

You shrugged and looked away trying to ignore the growing flush that filled your cheeks, “Good enough explanation—Hey! What are you doing this weekend? Do you have to work?”

“Yeah.”

“Lame.”

Jungkook stopped walking as he turned to look at you, “Why?”

“You know Kim Seokjin? He’s having a little pool party and he invited me but I know Taehyung is going to be there and I didn’t want to go alone,” you told him. Jungkook knew Jin, they used to be close friends but they’re a little distant now. He was also invited to the party but he had work so he was already not planning on going.

“Have you asked Jimin?” He asked you as he caught up to where you were. You nodded, “Yeah but he’s going to Busan for the weekend and my other friend Yoongi will be busy, it’s whatever. I’ll stop by for a second and then head out.”

Jungkook didn’t say much else after that. He understood how you must have felt. You want to go for Jin’s sake but you’re wary about seeing your ex boyfriend. He felt bad he had to work and your other friends were busy but it’s not like he could just call in to work for a party.

When Friday night rolled around you had taken about two shots before even leaving your house just to give yourself the courage to go. There wasn’t a need for you to go to the party but Jin had become your friend through Taehyung and you weren’t going to let any of them think you were avoiding Taehyung because you’re still heartbroken.

So when you showed up alone with your head held high, you were greeted warmly by the host. He wrapped you in his arms, “You came! So, drinks are inside, just get whatever you want and you can chill inside or outside. Did you come alone?”

“Yeah, the others were busy,” you told him honestly, “But it’s whatever, I’m just here to get drunk.”

Jin ruffled your hair with a smile, “Alright, come find me if you get lonely.”

You gave him a thumbs up and headed toward the kitchen where all the drinks were set up. You just got here so you haven’t seen Taehyung yet but you’re sure he’s around the corner getting drunk and you didn’t want to be sober when you ran into him.

“Y/n?”

Shit.

You looked up in time to catch your ex boyfriend walking into the open kitchen with furrowed brows. You debated ignoring him but that would just make it seem like you were still caught up on him, so instead you gave a nod of your head and said a short, “Hey?”

“Uh, hey,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “What are you doing here?”

Your brows knitted together in confusion, “I was invited?”

“I mean, I know but…” he bit his lip nervously and you dated Taehyung long enough to know something was up. Just as you were gonna ask what was wrong with you being here, a short brunette appeared at his arm, wrapping hers around his and looking up at him not bothering to acknowledge you.

“There you are, you can’t just leave me at a party with people I don’t know when you invited me, TaeTae,” she said looking up at him with starry eyes. You tried to not look surprised as he looked down in embarrassment, suddenly looking nervous when he looked back at you. The girl finally looked at you and asked, “Who are you?”

Taehyung opened his mouth to tell her to shut up but you were smiling already, “Y/n, you two look great together—even matching clothes—but I gotta go, there’s better things I could be doing.”

He watched you leave without another word and he slid the girl’s hand off his arm. He made a mistake, he should have known you’d be here. Why did he think you would still be mourning the break up and wouldn’t bother to show? He barely knew this girl but she was hot so he invited her in hopes of making hooking up after… but he didn’t plan on his ex seeing him with another girl. He kind of missed you.

Jungkook wasn’t telling himself he came to see you.

The reason he showed up at this stupid party was because Jin kept asking him too and since his other two friends would be working and it wouldn’t be too busy, they let him leave. He debated just going home and going to bed but then he remembered about yo—Jin—and he figured it wouldn’t hurt to show up.

“Dude, it’s been so long,” Jin said with a firm hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, “Let’s get you a drink an—“

“Have you seen Y/n?”

Jin stopped walking, he looked at his old friend with confusion, “Y/n?”

Jungkook nodded his head not bothering to question why Jin made a face. Jin was a lot closer to Taehyung so it’s not that he didn't know the two dated. Jungkook bets Jin is just surprised on why Jungkook, of all people, would be looking for you. Jin cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “Um, not totally sure but check in the back. Can I ask why?”

“I’m looking for her,” Jungkook gave him a short and vague response before he was leaving to find you. On his way out he saw something he wished he hadn’t and it only made him want to find you sooner. Just as he got outside he looked over to find Taehyung extremely close to another girl and before he could look away, his former friend looked at him but didn’t acknowledge him whatsoever.

Jungkook didn’t care about that, he cares more about finding you and if you’ve seen Taehyung yet or if Jungkook still had time to distract.

“Liar!”

He whipped around at an instance when he felt a pointed finger like his bicep, “How?”

“You said you had to work!” You said slurring just slightly and clutching a half drunken drink. Jungkook just shrugged, “I didn’t lie. I did have to work but they let me go. Shouldn’t you just be happy I’m here?”

“I guess,” you grumbled, taking another sip from your cup, “Want a drink?”

“Nah,” Jungkook said, “I drove so I’m staying sober in case I need to take you home. How many drinks have you had?”

You didn’t respond right away as you looked up in thought. Jungkook will admit your attempt to focus on your thoughts made you look a bit cute. Your brows were scrunched together and your cheeks puffed up with your index finger tapping your chin, “Like since I got here? Or in general?”

His smile slowly fell, “Y/n, how much have you drank?”

“Not a lot…” you said with a high pitched voice that gave way to the fact that you were lying, “Maybe?”

With a small sigh he looked down at your drink, “Is that your last one?”

“Probably not—Hey! Did you see Taehyung?” You asked, turning your back to him, “He’s here with some girl.”

“I know,” Jungkook said reaching a hand out to drag you back to him, “Did you two talk?”

“Yeah, he came up to me first,” you said with a small scoff, missing a step and Jungkook had to grab you by the waist to keep you from tripping, “And then that girl just shows up clinging to him and she had the nerve to ask who I was? As if he’s not the one who came up to me—as if I’m not the one who dated him!?”

Jungkook can just feel the rising anger bubbling up inside you the longer you looked and he didn’t like that. You needed a distraction, he knew you were over Taehyung for the most part because anyone would get mad seeing their recent ex act chummy with another person.

“What an asshole!” You nearly yelled in your drunken state as you turned your back to the sight of your ex boyfriend flirting with a girl right in front of you. Jungkook released a huff, “I know, just don’t let it get to you. He’s not worth it.”

He tried to grab you as you stumbled a bit in your steps but you just moved farther away from him. The party was loud and he felt as if everyone was drunk but him and that wasn’t usually the case. Usually, he’s the drunkest one here but right now he’s babysitting you and he doesn’t know why. All night he’s watched you down drink after drink until all you could do was slur on your words and stumble when you walk.

It’s only been a week since the two of you started to really talk and hang out so he’s not used to this side of you and he genuinely does not know what to do. How did he ever think his neighbor was quiet and uptight when you’re such a hot mess? Maybe it’s because he didn’t see you often considering you were always at Taehyung’s but damn, he did not expect this.

And on top of that, he doesn’t get how you and Taehyung ever dated when to him you were completely different. He can’t picture Taehyung following after you as you swayed in your steps ready to walk over to your ex boyfriend and tell him off like he was currently doing.

Wait…

Jungkook seemed to trip over the pavement as he pushed through the crowds of people that led outside to the pool area, calling after you, “Y/n! What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna talk to him,” you yelled, not bothering to look at him, “It hasn’t even been a month and he’s already hitting on other girls knowing that I’m here? That’s such a dick move!”

“I know, Y/n but listen— excuse me — “ he pushed past a couple of girls to get to you, “You’re not going to gain anything. You’re drunk and there’s a lot of people here and — excuse me — you don’t make any sense right now!”

You clearly weren’t listening and Jungkook was beginning to panic. You’re in stage four of grief, ‘depression’ and he knows you’re sad and you just want to get things off your chest but he knows that if you try and confront Taehyung in the drunk state that you’re in… you’re the one who’s going to look like a fool, not him. Nobody is even going to bat an eye at him but they’ll watch you judgingly and you’ll regret even speaking to him by morning. Jungkook came to a stop as he watched you chug back the drink in your hand zoning in on Taehyung who stood on the other side of the pool with his hand on a girl’s ass and a smirk on his face. Fuck.

You’re mad at Taehyung and you want to get it out but right now isn’t the time. If you want to confront him about something you need to do it sober and somewhere private, not at a party for all to hear and laugh at you as you slur on your words. Jungkook knew you were mad and that wasn’t going to change… all he could do is change who you’re mad at…

There was so much on your mind as you made room for yourself through crowds of people so you could get to Taehyung. The pool lit up the backyard in hues of blue and purple as neon lights sunk to the bottom of it yet nobody actually swam. Everyone just stood around it and in your way when you had a mission. You were going to march right up to Taehyung and ask him what his problem was. He dumped you but played it off like it was mutual… He called you two weeks later to get that he misses you [even after you got all your shit out of his house] and has the nerve to smile at you tonight but flirt with another girl knowing you’re here? God, you were so fucking mad and all you wanted to do was confront him, not even caring who saw or heard and what they thought about you. You were too drunk to care.

He was about fifteen feet away now and you tried to call for him, “Tae—“

A loud yell replaced his name and big hands grabbed you by your thighs and pulled you up. The familiar scent of Dior cologne filled your nose and when you got thrown over a muscular back you knew right away who it was, “Jungkook! Put me down! What is your problem?”

“Honestly?” Jungkook asked as he fixed you over his shoulder, turning you around in the opposite direction of where Taehyung was, “You. You’re my problem, right now so let’s go home before you make a drunk fool of yourself in front of everyone.”

“Fuck you, I’m not gonna make a fool of myself,” you said and even then you couldn’t hide the fact that your words were coming out all wrong and your vision was blurry, “I just want to talk!”

“Well now’s not the time!” Jungkook yelled ignoring all the stares the two of you recieved, “So shut up and let’s go!”

You groaned loudly, fighting his hold with everything you said, mind still foggy from the alcohol, “No! The only place I want to go is on the other side of this pool an—“

Jungkook didn’t waste a single second in thinking about what he was going to do to make you forget about how mad you were at Taehyung right now. The only thing that could come to his mind was to direct your anger toward him instead and before he knew it he was walking toward the pool hearing your shouts in protest thinking he was going to throw you in—but he had other plans.

His point wasn’t to leave you to be the only one embarrassed [which would have been the case if he let you confront Taehyung or if he threw you in the water by yourself], his point was to make you mad at him and only him. So despite your continuous effort to fight him off, he took the single leap into the deep end, not letting you go until you were both submerged into the water with his arms around you.

You barely managed to hold your breath once you realized what he was doing and even then you couldn’t wrap your mind around it till you swam your way back to the surface. Jungkook watched you brush your wet hair out of your face in search of him and he ignored all the loud cheering around the two of you for being the first in the water, cocky smile on his face when you glared at him.

“What is wrong with you?!” You yelled as you purposely splashed water in his face out of anger—surprisingly feeling sobered up now. Jungkook didn’t say anything, he only laughed and swam the very short distance to you, arms around your waist and dragging you back into the water with him, fighting to hold his breath when he felt your hand in his hair yanking him deeper inside.

The second time you came up for air the only thing on your mind was how to murder your neighbor and make it look like an accident. Jungkook just kept smiling at you with that cocky look in his eyes as he asked, “Well?”

You almost didn’t bother answering as you swam to the edge in search of a way to pull yourself up without having to go to the ladder which was conveniently very close to where Taehyung was now watching the two of you with furrowed brows.

“Are you mad?” Jungkook asked as he lifted you up the edge with ease despite you telling him to fuck off and pulled himself up swiftly to follow you. You wrung the water out of your shirt, “Obviously!”

“Okay! But at who?” Jungkook asked, ignoring everyone looking at him and trying to talk to him. You scoffed, “You! Asshole.”

“Good,” Jungkook said triumphantly, completely unaware of the way his former friend watched you two leave the backyard party completely drenched in water.

The only thing on Taehyung’s mind was what the hell was going on? When he saw you earlier you weren’t with anyone. It was just you and he didn’t even know Jungkook was here but maybe it’s because it’s been so long since he last saw the kid and he’s very obviously grown up and changed with all the tattoos and piercings. So all he wanted to know was how the fuck did you two know each other?

When morning came and the sun beamed down on your face more than you were used to, you woke up with an annoyed groan turning in bed to hide. The scent of shampoo coated the pillow you rested your head on and it was a surprisingly deep smell that had you snuggled into the pillow further you hid from the light. In an effort to fall back asleep and ignore the pounding of your head, you rolled onto your side hitting a wall of pillows and blankets. Your eyes opened just slightly, vision still blurry as you blinked sleep away and allowed yourself to look around, a scream leaving your lips as you toppled off the bed. Tangled in a blanket you hit the floor with a loud thud that had the person that made you scream shoot you abruptly.

Jungkook looked around, leaning over the side of the bed with an annoyed huff, “Jeez, you gave me a heart attack.”

Your jaw dropped as you sat on the floor, “I gave you a heart attack? Um what are you doing in my bed?”

“Your bed?” Jungkook furrowed his brows, “Look around sweetie.”

You did just that, eyes widening even further that he swears they’ll pop out of their socket, “Where am I?”

“My room,” Jungkook laid back down with a loud yawn.

“And what am I doing here?”

He released a sigh like he couldn’t be bothered but said, “Well after your drunk fiasco at the party, I brought you back and you couldn’t find your keys so you slept over here.”

Your brows furrowed, “What happened to my clothes?”

“They were wet and you were falling all over the place so I had to change you—don’t worry I had my eyes closed,” he told you and you took it in. Jungkook was sober majority of last night and you could only imagine what happened when he brought you home.

“Where are your keys?” He asked tiredly after he held you up with one arm ignoring the fact that you were both still drenched in pool water. You hiccuped, “I forgot them.”

“What?!” Jungkook asked louder than intended and you glared at him, “Don’t yell at me.”

“You’re a mess,” Jungkook grumbled, dragging you over to his front door, “I’ve never had to take care of a grown adult this much.”

“Just leave me outside to deal with my misery,” you said dramatically as he hauled you into his apartment, letting you fall to the floor once inside. Jungkook just shook his head as he left to his bedroom in search of something you could change into. When he came back you were sprawled on the floor half asleep and he punched the space between his brows in annoyance, “Y/n, get up, you need to change.”

All you did was groan, “I tired.”

“Yeah, well me too,” Jungkook kneeled down to grab you by your ankles and drag you across the floor before making you sit up. He angrily pulled the shirt over your head asking himself why he had to deal with you because your ex is a piece of shit.

Okay, he doesn’t have to but who else will?

The shirt fit you big so when you flipped back to the floor with a whine he asked, “Take off your jeans or else the wet denim is gonna give you a rash.”

“Yesh, dad,” you raised a hand to your forehead as if saluting him and you did as told, giving up halfway and making him finish yanking them down your legs with his eyes closed.

“You’re not allowed to drink anymore when we’re together,” Jungkook said, ordering you to slide your shirt off from under the tee, “At least not as much as you did tonight.”

He took your wet clothes and went to change before hanging it all to dry outside and when he went to the living room carrying a blanket for you to sleep on the couch with, you were asleep… still on the floor. With a stomp of his foot in a mini tantrum, Jungkook knelt down, slipped an arm under your neck and the other under your knees and picked you up with a huff. He wasn’t even careful when he let you fall onto the couch.

“Oh god, did we do anything stupid?” You asked referring to the fact that you had woken up in bed with him and wearing some t-shirt of his. Jungkook rolled his eyes, “No. You were supposed to sleep in the living room but you woke me up in the middle of the night because Bam kept kicking your face. Then you got all touchy and I made this pillow fort to protect myself from you.”

It had to be close to 3:00am when Jungkook finally let himself fall asleep. He made himself comfortable in bed trying to relax after the hectic night he’s had and when he was just finally starting to fall, a loud knock on his door snapped him awake.

“Ju—koo!” A whiny voice called from the other side of the door.

“What?!”

“Cold,” you whined, head leaned against the door, “And Bam won't stop licking my face.”

Jungkook huffed, “Tell him to stop!”

“I did,” you knocked on the door. He kicked off his blankets in annoyance, “You’re so needy!”

Even as he said that, he got out of bed and opened his bedroom door, moving to the side as you pushed past him and threw yourself down on his bed with your blanket wrapped around your body tightly. He watched you with tired eyes before going to his side of the bed. He grabbed all the extra pillows, moved you to one side and set up a wall to separate himself from you.

“God, what happened last night?” You groaned as you got up only to fall back onto his bed trying to piece it all together. You only remembered a couple things, “You threw me into the pool, asshole.”

“Yeah? Well, I would’ve been a bigger asshole if I let you make a fool of yourself in front of Taehyung and everyone else,” Jungkook said. You looked at him, only turning your head on its side and he did the same, neither of you saying anything for a moment.

You should probably say thank you but the way things unfolded, it might only make things more awkward. You were already slightly embarrassed but yes definitely seen you act stupid plenty of times so instead you said, “Help me get inside my apartment.”

The two of you stood on his balcony now, both looking toward yours which was separated from his by about two feet. He shifted his gaze toward you, “I’m confused, what are you trying to do?”

“The door is unlocked, I just gotta get over there and let myself in,” you said with a gulp as you poked down at the forty foot drop. Jungkook shook his head, “Are you stupid? I’m not letting you do that.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” You asked him with your hand on your hip. He mirrored your pose with more attitude, “Call the maintenance man, genius.”

“It’s gonna take them like three days to get back to me, Einstein, are you helping me or not?” You asked and you watched him stop to think.

“I’ll do it,” Jungkook said but you just shook your head.

“No, I’ve got underwear hanging to dry by the door, it’s not happening,” you told him, already walking to the railing. Jungkook gave up on arguing with you over it and followed after you. You gripped the railing looking over to your balcony which was only two feet away. This should be easy… all you have to do is get over his to yours, he ever has a little stool that he sits on that you could use as a boost.

Jungkook thought about what he should do to help you and in the end just held you by the waist to keep you balanced as you lifted a leg over the railing and stepped onto the short side of the cement ledge, “Oh my god, you’ve gotta be the craziest girl I’ve ever met.”

“You know a lot of people say that to me,” you said and the two foot gap didn’t seem as intimidating anymore, “Okay, let me go.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook begged as his arms tightened around your waist, “This is a bad idea.”

“Too late, I’m already halfway there so let go before I fall on purpose to make you feel bad,” you nervously joked as he let go but not without calling you a bitch. With your breath held tightly, you stretched a leg out first feeling the end of your balcony touch it and with a careful leap, you held onto your railing hearing Jungkook gasp nervously. He watched you swing a leg over until the railing was between both of them and as you finally touched down on your side, you slipped, falling into the hard cement with a groan.

Jungkook shielded his eyes with his hands, “Are you good?”

“Barely,” you huffed as you forced yourself to your feet and checked to see if the glass sliding door was in fact unlocked. Your heart seemed to tighten in relief as you opened it, huge smile on your face looking back to your neighbor, “Got it! Okay, I’m gonna get cleaned up, thanks.”

Jungkook was already picking up his pack of cigarettes and bringing it to his lips, “You stress me out.”

“I’ll make up for it,” you said already halfway through your door, “Whatever you want, just tell me and I’ll do it.”

With that, you left for your apartment in search for your spare keys and he sat down on his stool with a breath of relief. He couldn’t believe you and the more he thought about it, the more confused he got on how you and Taehyung found each other…

The thought didn’t last long in his head when he looked down at his vibrating phone, eyebrows furrowed as he read the caller ID.

“KIM TAEHYUNG”

It took Jungkook a moment to even decide if he wanted to answer or not but in the end he couldn’t help himself and curiosity got the best of him, “Hello?”

Taehyung’s voice was unusually cheery, “Hey man! How have you been?”

Jungkook shrugged even though his former friend couldn’t see him, “Uh, good I guess, what’s up?”

“I was calling cause of last night…” Taehyung said dragging out his words as if it would ring a bell for Jungkook.

He didn’t say anything wondering how this would go. It’s weird that Taehyung was even calling him and if there’s any reason behind it, it’s you, “Hm…”

Taehyung wasn’t sure why he expected a bigger response but he brushed off his small hum and went on, “Well I saw you with Y/n and everyone was kinda curious, what happened?”

“Oh, Y/n did something to piss me off so I got back at her. Why?” Jungkook said playing off the events from last night until he understood why Taehyung was bothering to talk to him after their fall out.

“Hm? Oh um, well, I just… I didn’t know the two of you were friends,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly as he thought about it. Last night confused the hell out of him. First, he ran into you as he’s with another girl and second, he runs into an old friend—to make matters more confusing it appears you two knew each other and he doesn’t get how.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk, a little annoyed but he ignored it as he went inside, “I get it, how could you know anyway? When’s the last time you and I talked? Like two years ago?”

Taehyung nervously chuckled, “Yeah, I guess. So did Y/n get home safely?”

He rolled his eyes, “Why are you so curious about her?”

“Huh?” Taehyung was genuinely surprised, “She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” He asked, deciding to play dumb.

“We used to date?” Taehyung said seriously, hoping Jungkook wouldn’t like the news if in fact, you’ve never told him. He wants to know what’s going on between you, he doesn’t care if he’s your ex, he deserves to know.

“Oh, no Y/n’s never even mentioned you,” Jungkook lied for your sake. He wasn’t going to give Taehyung the benefit of knowing he’s still on your mind.

“Not even at the party?” Taehyung asked with furrowed brows, suspicious if Jungkook was telling the truth or not.

“Uh, no? Why? Did something happen?” Jungkook asked as he pet his dog subconsciously as he smiled listening to the sound of music already coming from your apartment.

“No, not really. So, what are you doing? How about we get lunch and catch up?” Taehyung asked and if he could see Jungkook right now, he would see how unimpressed he was by that idea.

Jungkook leaned back in the couch and said, “I’m kinda busy, maybe another time?”

“I mean, okay… sure, yeah let’s catch up another time.”

Taehyung was suspicious, of course he was! When he broke up with you it’s because he told himself he didn’t have feelings for you anymore but clearly that’s not true because seeing you with Jungkook… it pissed him off. Sure, you and Taehyung didn’t have much in common but you worked, that’s why you were together for a year.

Jungkook is—he’s a shut-in hermit crab and you’re not. He doesn’t bother with drama or getting to know someone new so how the hell did you two even meet and have you really never even mentioned him once? Jungkook clearly didn’t know that the two of you were together and that just pisses him off even more. Why is it that you didn’t talk about him to Jungkook? It’s not like the two of you broke up long ago, it’s recent.

When the call finally came to an end he was left alone to wonder what the hell was going on with you two?

There wasn’t a shift in the air that you two have noticed but something has definitely changed. The amount of times you hang out has increased dramatically to the point where you were at least seeing each other once a day whether it be to eat ramen or go to the gas station. If you were free and Jungkook was free… chances are you’re gonna see what you can do together. Your friends swear that he’s all you talk about lately but you don’t think that’s true—until you hear that how friends think he talks a lot about you two.

It’s strange, your friendship has just grown stronger each day. Everyone keeps trying to say that there’s no way the two of you are just friends but you really are…

Seriously…

“I can’t believe you did that,” you said laying back on the couch with your feet over his lap. You wouldn’t have had your feet on him at all if he didn’t force himself down on your small couch.

“Did what?” Jungkook as he leaned over your legs so that he could sit forward and play his game better.

You pushed your heel against his thigh, “Drag your PS5 over here instead of just playing at your place.”

Jungkook just smacked his lips in annoyance toward his game, still not bothering to even look at you at all, his eyes stayed on your tv screen as he said, “You wanted to hang out.”

“But you’re not even talking to me,” You threw your head back against the armrest of the couch moving your feet off him and that finally got him to pay attention and he paused his game to look at you. He even went as far as setting his controller down on your coffee table, a little smirk on his face.

“Aw, you want me to pay attention to you?” Jungkook asked with a small laugh, “Okay, okay, how was your day?”

In reality he wanted to ask how you’ve been feeling lately—more specifically, toward him. The way the two of you became friends was a bit random and him even being here with you is strange considering the fact that he became your friend after you broke up with Taehyung. The timing wasn’t right but he does know that your friendship is strong and you don’t think about whatever happened in the past when you’re with him.

He likes that. He likes how easy it is around you.

Sure, sometimes the line in which he separates you from a friend to someone he is attracted to is beginning to blur.

No, he doesn’t find you attractive.

Well okay, yes he does. Even after seeing you with makeup down your face, drunk out of your mind, and first thing in the morning when your hair's a mess—for only being friends for a short amount of time he’s really seen a lot of sides of you.

But you’re just friends, he knows that, he doesn’t expect more… he didn’t even want more. Since the beginning all he’s ever done is talk about wanting to just be by himself and mind his business but clearly that all changed when you came along and to be honest, he liked the change.

“It was okay,” you said, making him realize that he had moved his hand onto your calf, and was softly sliding if higher then back down, “Just really boring and then I ask you to hang out and you’re just y’know… gaming.”

For a second Jungkook thought you were being serious and actually began to feel bad about possibly upsetting you by not giving you any attention. Just a moment later though he could see you smile and hold back a laugh when you watch him go serious with worry. When he realized you wanted to laugh, he rolled his eyes, “Whatever, I thought you were being serious.”

You just chuckled watching him lean against the other end of the armrest. He was sitting forward but he was looking at you sideways, one hand still on your leg and you just looked back at him. The game wasn’t even playing anymore and he was only focused on you now and the way you were looking at him.

His fingers began to tap against your leg, softly caressing every now and then, a small smirk coming to his face. Your brows furrowed, “What?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook said, running a hand over his face. You sat up a bit, “Now you have to tell me.”

“Nothing, it’s just…” he was hesitant, debating if he should be honest or not, “Don’t look at me like that.”

You released a scoff, sitting up further and moving away from him, “Like what?”

“Like you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you right now,” he was serious now as he said and you can see the change in his gaze. You were too stunned to speak, you wanted to say it was unexpected but like… things have felt different lately…

You could see the way his tongue poked against his cheek looking at you with a dazed look in his eyes. You’re not sure what made you say it but you asked, “You want to kiss me?”

Jungkook laughed softly, shifting his eyes to his lap, “Basically.”

You bit down on your lip in thought, quite literally checking him out from head to toe. He was even sitting with his tattooed arm in your view and he’s been rubbing your leg with it this entire time.

This isn’t a good idea.

Jungkook is your friend.

Sure, you’re not mad anymore about whatever happened with you ex, and sure… you haven’t been intimate with someone in a while, and yes Jungkook is attractive from the way his voice sounds to the way he walks but… but he’s your friend.

So why was it so easy for you to say, “So do it then.”

Jungkook didn’t need much else of a sign before he was going for it. He went to cross his end of the couch to yours but before he could get all the way over, you were meeting him halfway with your hands coming around his neck almost immediately. Your lips met so suddenly at first that it was a bit of surprise but neither of you shied away from initiating a kiss.

The first thing he noticed was how soft your lips were against his. They were warm too and your mouth felt so good that Jungkook brought his hand up to your hair so that you couldn’t pull away too soon but you kissed him so eagerly that he doubts that would even happen.

It was just wet and needy, soft sounds coming out whenever his tongue licked along yours. Your arms wrapped around him more and Jungkook was so quick to pull you into him until you were practically stumbling onto his lap. His hands found your waist and he slid them down toward your thighs so he could fix your legs to straddle him, not once pulling his mouth from yours.

Your hairs were in his hair, brushing it out of his face as you attempted to pull away. Jungkook just chased after your lips, feeling the line of split that connected your swollen lips together even when you backed away. He was just as out of breath as you and when your eyes met there was just a small moment of hesitation wondering if this was a good idea or not.

The moment didn’t last long when felt you the slightest hint of excitement in his sweats from the way you straddled him and you couldn’t help but grind your hips down. Jungkook swallowed back a moan with your lips as he kissed you, pulling you back against him so that you could sit directly over his growing erection. His eyes fell shut deepening the kiss with his tongue and yours relishing in your make out and the way your body felt pressed against his.

“Y/n,” his voice was hoarse as his hand slid down to the back of your cotton shorts, thankful for the thin material of them when he groped your ass. You were both in clothes ready for bed and he could still feel you through the layers. Your hair fell to one side as you kissed along the corners of his mouth, a hand flat on his shirt while you trailed down toward his jaw. He licked his dry lips when he felt the tender affections on the angle of his jaw as the hand over his t-shirt ran over his chest. He let his head fall back trying to catch his breath when you playfully nipped at skin, kissing away any pain and sucking lightly.

Both of his hands found your butt, squeezing here and there and tongue kissing you messily. It honestly felt so good and when his hands slid up to lift your shirt a little, you didn’t hesitate to sit back and behind taking it off yourself. His rough hands fell to hold your waist, holding you back as he took in the sight of you. Jungkook would be lying if he said he hasn’t checked you out before. It wasn’t entirely his fault, he had to get you out of wet clothes!—well, okay, yeah it was his fault they were drenched in the first place but his intention wasn’t to see your body.

It just happened and every day after that he had to remind himself that you were a good friend and you were going through it and him getting any feelings for you wouldn’t be good.

A pleased sigh left his lips when your hand began to touch the end of his shirt sliding underneath to run over the ridges of abs you knew he had. You could see them through pretty much every fitted shirt he wore. Even when he wore loose and oversized tees there was no way to hide his back muscles. He was so strong too, you didn’t expect anything less than the taut muscle in his torso and you just could help but want to feel all of it.

Jungkook helped you take his shirt off and it joined yours on the floor before he was leaning forward to kiss your neck. His thick fingers ran along your spine in search for the clip on your bra and swiftly unclasped it, dragging his hands under the material. While doing this, Jungkook begins trailing his kisses down your neck to your shoulder, following the straps down your arms, taking it off you and discarding it so he could touch you without barrier. A soft meowl left your lips when his big hands cupped your breasts and pressed the pad of his thumbs against your rounded nipples smoothly. It didn’t take long for his fingers circling around your nips to turn into his mouth swallowing around one.

“Jungkook,” you whined lightly when he moved his tongue around your erect nipples, you were getting so turned on your core was dripping with need.

Jungkook couldn’t find it in himself to be more patient and once he felt your covered push grinding on his dick, he just has to remove some of the layers between you two. His big hand raised your hips enough with you help so could his sweats down as far as they could and you shift to kneel beside him on the couch watching him undress.

You began taking your shorts off, a small groan leaving his lips at the sight, “You’re not wearing underwear?”

He was wondering why it was so easy for him to grope your ass and feel you so much more and it just made his dick throb with excitement at the sight before him. You nodded your head looking at him with those same eyes that started this in the first place and he felt your hand making its way to his hard cock. His lips parted with a gasp when you took it in your hands, giving one shy stroke right off the bat.

Jungkook didn’t waste a moment hesitating as he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you closer in his side to jerk him off while his other hand began to teasingly run along your inner thighs.

You were soaked and it didn’t go unnoticed by his long fingers. His middle finger ran between your folds teasingly as you made a fist with your small hand and stroked him from his base to his tip making sure to rub against that soft spot and bulging vein. His precum was beginning to dribble out and every now and then you would coat his head with it before flicking your wrist on a downward stroke. Light moans from the both of you filled the room as his fingertips rubbed against your clit, covering it in your slick and swiping all the way to the puddle of wetness at your core. Your lips drew open in a moment when you felt his middle finger begin to tease your entrance and finally push its way in, a thick amount of slick joining him creating a light squelching sound.

You quickly dragged him into a hunger kiss as he began to fuck your with his thick finger while you fisted his cock. Jungkook licked the shell of your ear, “Wanna fuck you so bad.”

His words had you moaning and shaking when his finger became two getting but more rough, even bucking his lips into your hand. Your mouth was permanently open in pleasure as you said, “Do it then.”Jungkook just smirks as he removes his hand so he can pull you up to straddle his lap again but this time feeling your wet push right on top of his fat dick. Jungkook had to bite on his lip to stop from moaning when he felt some of your wetness coat his member as he moved to grip your hip. Your hands went to his shoulders to support yourself as you lifted your hips off his thighs enough for him to align his cock with your entrance, moaning when he ran his tip of your clit, “Fuck, I don’t have a condom, Y/n, fuck.”

“It’s okay.” You moaned as you helped guide him in, “Just pull out.”

Jungkook nodded his head as he finally held you by the waist and helped you down his throbbing dickwith a groan.

"Jungkook," you whined at the stretch and the way he dig his fingertips into your hip bone to steady himself when he pushed through your tight walls. It took you a second to get used to his size but once you had, your hands were on his shoulders and your feet on the couch, raising your hips until only the tip of his cock was inside, and slowly took him all in again. A low groan bubbled up in his throat, sliding his hands down ass, helping you fuck yourself on his hard cock, eyes on your chest which was just right in front of his face.

You were right and your pussy completely coated his dick with your slick that everytime you came up, the slide back down was easier. Your body clung against his as he began to mouth at your exposed neck and collarbone. His legs were spread apart to give you the room and he felt so good inside of you. It hasn’t been a crazy amount of time since you last had sex but it was long enough to make you appreciate Jungkook’s big dick. Your hands were curling into his hair feeling your lower back begin to hurt in this position but he helped you raise and lower your tight pussy on his length. A small gasp left your lips as you felt his tongue tease a hard nipple, licking it expertly before wrapping his lips around it. He had one hand on your other breast and the other hand guiding you to fuck yourself on him. He nipped at the bud playing with it while he twisted and pinched at the other. Your body pressed against his and each time you sank down his cock, you would grind your hips forward humping him and angling yourself where he could feel your folds parting.

Jungkook groped your ass, digging his nails in surely to leave a mark and he raised his hips off the couch enough to fuck into you, ramming his cock in and out with each pretty moan you let out, his mouth was still on your tits so he sounded muffled when he groaned, "So fucking good."

Jungkook left wet, sloppy kisses over your throat, moving his hands to grip your waist harshly. Jungkook's nail dug into your soft flesh as he lifted your hips up and down on his cock hearing you whine tiredly. You were already becoming puddy in his hands and he took it upon himself to wrap your legs around him as he turned your bodies to lay you flat on the couch. A loud moan left your lips with this new angle and now that he was on top, he didn’t ease up his thrusts, only let them get more forceful with more intent. Your nails clawed at his back, running them down toward where his back dimples should be and you practically guided his cock in and out of your wet cunt, making him fuck you more roughly than before.

“Oh my god,” you said breathlessly, throwing your head back against the armrest and looking up so you could try and calm down as he fucked you. He had a hand roughly groping your tits and the other on the back of the couch for support as he thrusted deeply into you, only moving his hips and contracting every muscle to do so, “Fuck, Jungkook, ngh.”

"Just like that," he bit into his lip looking down at how pretty you looked under him, only making his hips move more rapidly, “Take my cock, Y/n.”

You nodded but you couldn’t even look at him as you tried to keep yourself under control by staring up at the ceiling, “S—so close.”

Jungkook groaned when he felt your wet cunt tighten around him making it harder for him to drag his cock out but it made him have to fuck itright back into you with more force. He could feel your ring of nerves clenching around his member as it sucked him into your folds and each time was harder to get back out. It was wet and slippery and you were so fucking hot that he knew he wouldn’t last. He dropped his face against your neck, “You’re so good for me, so fucking right goddamn.”

He wasn't going to last much longer either.

He hasn't slept with someone in months and even if he did it didn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t feel like this because he wants to see you as just a friend but clearly that’s never been the case and if he had deprived himself of feeling your pussy tighten around him, he might’ve gone insane. Your legs wrapped around his waist making him go deeper and you were moaning loudly now, “I’m gon—I’m gonna—oh my god.”

It washed over your writhing body like a wave, Jungkook felt it travel through your body and around his cock till he felt your creamy fluid coat his member. He quickly pulled out with a loud groan as he was unable to stop himself from cunning all over your stomach in thick spirits of semen that made his legs give out and his body pressed against yours. You hugged him closely as the two of you tried to come down, his lips on your neck soothing you down from the highs of climax, “Felt so good.”

“Mhm,” you moaned softly as you unwrapped your legs from around him and let them fall limply, “Fuck.”

Your hand slid between your bodies to touch the muddles of cum be covered you in and it made him pull back enough to see the mess, biting his lip as he attempted to apologize, “Sorry, I was gonna—didn’t have time to—yknow.”

You smiled as you moved to sit up more, “Better me than my couch.”

He let you stand up, moving off of you, “Are you good?”

His hand held yours keeping you from moving and he couldn’t help but look down at your body and the mess he made on your stomach. You nodded your head, “Yeah but I need to clean up, asap, it’s sticky.”

You said it jokingly and he laughed with you, both of you still relishing in what just happened. You released a sigh, “I need a shower, want to join me?”

He nodded, not wasting a second to ponder over it, “Let me help clean up and then I’ll go.”

You left with a nod of your head and Jungkook looked at the mess the two of you made in your living room, already seeing a small stain on the couch.

As he searched for his clothes, the doorbell caught him off guard drawing his attention to the door. Deciding to ignore it so he could join you in the shower, he picked up his things to leave when the doorbell chime turned into a fist against the door and that had him curious. He quickly slipped on his sweats already hearing the shower run and went to answer. It was probably just a delivery or a neighbor complaining about the noise. He didn’t bother with a shirt and his hair was a messy but he didn’t care as he opened the door expecting anyone but the person in front of him.

“Jungkook?”

“Taehyung?” Jungkook looked at the guy in front of him with confusion.

He watched him take a step back as if to make sure the address was right for you and looked back at him, “What are you doing here?”

“Um, I live next door,” Jungkook said dumbly as he attempted to ignore the fact that he was shirtless and sweaty and your ex boyfriend was noting that.

Taehyung’s brows furrowed, “Wait, you’re the one who lives next do—why are you at Y/n’s then?”

Jungkook huffed in annoyance, “Taehyung, come on man… does it really matter? Why are you here?”

“Because I’m hereto talk to her about our relationship—“

That made Jungkook’s jaw clenched at Taehyung’s audacity, “What relationship? The two of you aren’t together.”

“Look, it doesn’t really concern you—why aren’t you wearing a shirt? What the fuck is going on here? Y/n?!” Taehyung tried getting through Jungkook to enter your apartment but he didn’t let him. Fuck no. He was not going to let Taehyung come in and ruin everything that has just happened between you. “Taehyung, don’t. You dumped Y/n just get out of here.”

Taehyung scoffed loudly, Oh, I fucking knew something was going on between you two at the party. You didn’t even hide it!”

“You have no idea what you’re even talking abou—“

“Why are you at my ex’s house?” Taehyung asked abruptly as he stood directly in front of Jungkook’s face, both equal in height.

Jungkook scoffed as he glared at his ex friend; “Taehyung, not everything is about you so get over yourself and just go already. Y/n does not want anything to do with you.”

That only seemed to piss Taehyung off more as he scoffed and said, “Oh I get it now, you slept Y/n… Is that what you’re doing here? To sleep with my ex?”

Jungkook was starting to get pissed, rightfully so in his opinion and he wants nothing more than to get this guy out, “I’m not saying it again, Taehyung, just go before Y/n gets out of the shower.”

Unbeknownst to either of them that you had already turned off the water early once you heard the banging on your front door and the muffled voices.

“So you did!?” Taehyung ignored his warning to accuse him further, “Was this your plan all along? You wanted to get back at me by fucking my ex? I didn’t realize you’re still not over what happened with Minsu. Come on Kook, that was years ago, did you really need to go this far? I still care about Y/n.”

That passed Jungkook off and he’s never been in a fight with anyone he considered a friend once before and right now he’s very close to doing it, “I’m not you! This has nothing to do with you or Minsu and stop lying. You don’t care about Y/n! You just found out her and I were close and suddenly you wanted to call dibs on her again? Jeez, you’re still the selfish asshole you’ve always been.”

“Fuck you, Jungkook. You’re just jealous, you’ve always been jealous. Yeah, I slept with the girl you liked but it wasn’t enough to stop being my friend!? Yes, I knew how much you liked her but it’s not my fault she got in my bed! How do you think Y/n is going to feel when she finds out you only slept with her to get back at me?” Taehyung as so cocky when he spoke and Jungkook was seriously beginning to lose his patience.

“That’s not tru—“

“What?”

The two men immediately looked behind Jungkook where you stood in a bathrobe that Taehyung recognized immediately at what had just happened between you and Jungkook.

“Y/n…” the both said and Taehyung took a step inside when Jungkook’s guard was down and a smile threatened to appear on his face when you looked at him.

“Taehyung, what did you just say?” You asked and Jungkook immediately felt his heart drop.

He took a cautious step toward you, wondering how much you heard, “Y/n don’t listen to him, he’s lying and he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“It’s true, That's probably why the two of you got clo—“ Taehyung tried to say only for your sharp tone to snap them both silent with surprise.

“Get out.”

His brows scrunched together in confusion, “What? No, I’m here to talk about us.”

You just rolled your eyes, “Well I don’t want to talk to you Taehyung, so get out.”

“Y/n—“

“Taehyung! Get out, I don’t know what you were hoping for coming here but I want you to leave,” you said louder now and there was no denying the finality in your tone that had your ex backing down reluctantly. When he looked at Jungkook it was like the final straw to push him over the edge and he stormed back out leaving the two of you alone, silent.

Jungkook was trying to get closer to you but also unsure if it’s what you wanted as he said a soft, “Y/n…”

“You too, Jungkook, just go.”

He knew he should just do as you say but that kind of hurt his feelings considering just a few minutes again he made you cum with his cock and he gathered the strength to say, “No.”

You released a deep sigh, turning to sit on the couch still without a thorough shower, “Jungkook, I want to be alone so please just go.”

You just needed time to yourself to think. You had no plans of getting back with Taehyung and him coming over just surprised the fuck out of you. On top of that you just had sex with someone who’s your friend and who’s helped you get over the break up and although it seems like just a rebound, it didn’t feel that way.

Jungkook stood before you, “No, I’m not leaving because I’m not letting you think for even one second that what he said is true. I didn’t sleep with you to get back at him. I couldn’t care less about Taehyung and the only reason I even thought about that guy again was because of yo—“

“I know.”

Your soft tone surprised him and he found himself stuttering out, “… you do?”

You nodded your head, running a nervous hand over your hair, “I mean, I know you — I think — you’re not the type of guy to do that…”

His heart raced in relief as he moved to sit next to you, “I’m really not, Y/n. You know me, I like staying out of the drama and with him, that’s all you get. I wouldn’t have even bothered to acknowledge him if it weren’t for you.”

“Jungkook…”

He leaned forward so that you were forced to look at him as he said, “Y/n, listen to me, okay? I like you… I know we just… y’know, but It’s not because I wanted to get revenge. That’s petty. I’ve been hanging out with you all the time because I enjoy it. You’re a hot mess and crazy and loud and the complete opposite of what I thought you’d be but… but I’m cool with you, y’know? I put up with all your late night meltdowns and early morning hunger because I wanted to spend time with you—I literally jumped in the pool with you so we can be fools together—why are you laughing?”

It was hard to ignore the way you smiled and fought back a laugh as he talked and it confused the hell out of him that he had to ask. You just sighed, “Because you don’t have to explain yourself, Kook. I mean, you’re right, I’m a hot mess…”

He shook his head, “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I kinda like it… it’s exciting and you have good intentions and you’re not vindictive and you don’t really care what others think of you and I want you to know that you’re literally always on my mind but I tried to tell myself I just wanted to be friends but… look, I don’t expect you to feel the same even after tonight but I just want you to see that I really do like you, all of you, there’s nothing I want to change.”

You were still smiling as you slouched back on the couch that he just fucked you on, “You know, you’ve gotta be the only person who’s ever said that to me. Do you really mean it?”

He scoffed with a laugh, “No shit, Y/n. You stress me out in the best way possible.”

“That’s because you know me like no other and you aren’t trying to change me, you’re seeing me for me. I’m crazy into you,” you confessed, surprising yourself and him.

“You are?”

“Yeah.”

He gulped in thought, “Y/n, if we can just look past whatever drama just happened and try, but I get it if you don’t want to—I mean, I get it, honestly, you just got out of a relationship and getting with me right away probably won’t look good to others and if you’re not ready I get it but—“

You sighed, “Who cares what other people say?”

You don’t, not anymore. It’s just exhausting to always be thinking about others and right now you rather focus on yourself and who makes you happy and right now that’s Jungkook even if you hadn’t admitted it before.

“Y/n…”

“Jungkook, I don’t know about y’know, dating yet but… but I really do like you and I don’t care what other people say anyway. Can we maybe take things slow?” You asked shyly as his hand fell over yours to hold it.

He nodded, eyes looking down at your lips and watching you bite down on them. He took a deep breath feeling you move closer and he had to move back, “Y/n… we can’t take things slow if you try to kiss me.”

You sat back in surprise, “Why’s that?”

He chuckled softly, “Because I won’t be able to stop.”

“It’s okay, we can just cuddle then—that is, of course, if you don’t put a pillow fort between us again,” you said to him as you leaned into his side.

“Listen, I was being considerate about the fact I had a drunk girl crawl into my bed looking too cute in my shirt,” Jungkook said honestly as he helped you snuggle against him.

“Ah, so you’ve always had a thing for me? You sure you didn’t plot this?” You teased.

Jungkook scoffed as he poked your side, “Shut up, I did not, I just… maybe a little?—I mean you try and involve yourself with someone as crazy and fun as you and try not to fall for them!”

“Gross,” you joked, “I didn’t realize you’ve been obsessed with me this whole time.”

“Oh shut up.”

::.

just lyk It’s highly unedited 💀💀💀I forced myself to finish it this morning but anyways idk I love a good idiots to lovers but maybe that’s just me. also imagine jk as your friend and neighbor?

and his ass really did jump in that pool with y/n so she would get mad at him and forget about Tae

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura a @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

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finelinefae · 5 months

Text

match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them

word count: 10.2k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n

this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here

. . .

“Again,”

Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court.

She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,”

She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve.

“Again,”

Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already.

“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously.

She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”

“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.”

“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts.

“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil.

This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay.

However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one.

She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.

Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.

“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate.

Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time.

Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench.

He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.

Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"

By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.

“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight.

“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.

“We are training properly,” He argued.

“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”

“And?”

“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?”

“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.”

Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”

She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par.

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned.

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”

Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.”

Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.

As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own.

She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face.

“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”

He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.

“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained.

“You made this for me?” She frowned.

“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles.

Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman.

“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury.

“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual.

“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park.

She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply.

. . .

After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed.

Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam.

Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years.

Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on.

She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie.

She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment.

The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it.

She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song.

‘Nothing to be justified yet

She the first I'm running with

She the one that get my collar

She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’

. . .

The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her.

“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.

Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”

“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”

Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?”

Y/N frowned, “What?”

“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained.

“Oh I don’t know about that-”

“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.

“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied.

“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.

“You asked him before me?”

“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”

“Why didn’t he ask me?”

Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?”

Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too.

“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”

Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.

. . .

It was raining outside.

Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour.

“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,”

“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”

“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”

Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort.

“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously.

She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?”

He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”

“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck.

“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it.

“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked.

“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained.

“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.

“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied.

“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her.

Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them.

As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.”

Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,”

Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”

Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”

Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”

“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.

“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.

“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words.

Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”

Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it.

“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked.

Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"

Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?”

Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."

"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.

Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?”

“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting.

“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged.

“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.

“I study,” Y/N stated.

“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.

Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”

She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life.

“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”

Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.

"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.

“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled.

As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently.

“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”

Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”

Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently.

He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”

Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park.

Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked.

“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief.

“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”

“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”

She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”

“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,”

“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted.

Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on.

“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”

“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.

“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.

“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”

“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot.

“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”

Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward.

“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”

This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,”

Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”

“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears.

“Atta girl,” He beamed.

Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”

After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive.

“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed.

Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car.

“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her.

“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved.

“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played.

Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”

Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face.

“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”

He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him.

“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun.

“Okay,” Y/N nodded.

He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.

“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile.

“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning.

“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”

Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”

“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.

Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained.

Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”

Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”

“And you can do the same,” She says.

Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.”

She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,”

“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”

“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same.

“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits.

Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.

“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.”

Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.”

Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before.

She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her.

. . .

Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.

“Again,” Harry drawled.

Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.

“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.

Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything.

“I just need to win,” She mumbled.

“Get up,” Harry ordered.

Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.

“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her.

He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.

Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm.

“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”

Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.”

The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.

Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted.

“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”

“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”

“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.

“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.

“Come to my place,” He offers.

“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down.

“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”

She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.

Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment.

Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax.

The day after, they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.

Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.

The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot.

“For now,” He says.

Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.

“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor.

She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.

Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.”

“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.”

Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.”

“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.”

Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?”

Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”

Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question.

“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”

“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge.

Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”

Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.

“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?”

“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”

“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.

Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.”

"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.

Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.

Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."

Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.

"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"

Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.

"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"

"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.

"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"

"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.

Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."

Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.

Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."

As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”

Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.

Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"

Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.

"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.

"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.

But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife.

"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."

Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."

"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."

"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.

As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.

"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.

The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.

Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.

Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.

"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.”

“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears.

Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.

Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much.

“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke.

“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.

He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.”

“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.

“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him.

“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.”

Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”

Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”

His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them.

She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him.

. . .

It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn.

He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher.

On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker.

Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone.

“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it.

“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.

“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”

Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”

“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”

He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks.

Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking.

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder.

She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to.

“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention.

Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire.

“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her.

“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder.

Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.

When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.

When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.

“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat.

But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.

“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own.

Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said.

Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her.

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned.

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot.

Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him.

They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.

The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.

As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.

Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.

But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.

"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.

“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.

He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?

He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling.

He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.

The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck.

After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.

As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would.

Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.

Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood.

If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis.

He was in trouble.

. . .

People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood.

“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”

“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her.

That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.

Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to.

Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator.

Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.

“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her.

“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him.

“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”

“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before.

Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”

Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”

Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.

“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”

Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.

Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county.

Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.

1K notes · View notes

jaylver · 4 months

Text

THE FIVE YEAR DEAL — P.JS

synopsis: having to deal with a four year long situationship was hard enough in the first place, but when your favourite situationship texted you on a random night after a year of no contact, it was a much harder scenario than imagined. what happens when he brings up that old pact you made about getting married in 5 years and you start rekindling a relationship that was lost?

pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader

genre: ex-situationship to friends to lovers, second chance romance, angst, romance, pining

warning(s): profanities, drinking and partying, slight violence

wc: 6.5k

a/n: after a month of not posting, here's a very very belated jay fic that was meant to be for his birthday (scream). please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

Park Jong Seong was your roman empire. There, you actually said it.

He was a thought that constantly hovered in your mind from time to time. Whether he was a ghost that lingered to haunt you or a sweet thought that remained, you couldn't tell. All you knew was that he had changed your life for the better and the worst.

A lesson you'd often tell others is to never get yourself involved in a situationship, worse if it's with your best friend. Unfortunately, you were speaking from experience which involved Jay, your ex situationship slash best friend. Look how you and him eventually turned out.

An almost four year long situationship with Jay that took an absolute toll on you had ended the year before. You agreed on no contact with him after, trying to create a peaceful life without him out of your life, yet it was entirely impossible when you shared mutual friends that reminded you of your good times with him even though he wasn't around.

You hate to admit it, but losing a person who was your best friend cut deep into your gut and heart combined. It was, at least, for the better. That was something your friends told you that you gradually recited in your head. It wasn't very effective, however. You still thought about him, quite often actually. But you supposed that was the haunting and painful part of having a relationship with someone that was almost a lover but never became one.

It was the same exact night you were thinking about him when a text appeared on the homescreen of your phone. You stared at the notification for God knows how long, debating if your lack of sleep was finally catching up to you. The contact name was unmistakable, there it was, Jay's text. Jay, your Jay?

The strength you had trying to act casual, but in reality, you were dying internally. The hold that man has on you was unimaginable.

jjong: you up?

you: ?

jjong: did you delete my number?

If only he knew, he would've probably laughed. You never deleted his number, nor did you even change his contact name. His name constantly stuck out in the list of contacts, just like the memories of him in your head.

you: no, i didn't. what i meant was why are you texting me at 2 am?

jjong: i thought of something, something we said four years ago

you: okay …?

jjong: you said if we're both still single in five years, we should get married

you: you took that seriously?

jjong: should i not have?

you: dumbass, i was tipsy

jjong: you didn't say that when i brought it up after you were sober

you: it's stupid

jjong: it's not. come on, y/n, can we please start afresh? i miss you.

He missed you?

jjong: i'm serious. can we please meet up?

you: you swear you're not going to pull something?

jjong: no?? the most i'll do is pull out an engagement ring but who knows

you: cut the crap, jay

jjong: don't act like that didn't make you giggle even the slightest

jjong: meet me downtown. the usual place we go to :)

How could he act so nonchalant when bringing up the past? The usual place that you haven't been to after cutting contact with him was something he still recalled, but to you, it was a place you avoided up until now.

It was hard to sleep when your mind was filled with thoughts of him, except this time, instead of missing him, you dreaded him and the part where you're going to meet him for the first time in a year. What was he going to say?

The wish you wished upon the lone star that night was for Jay to finally set his feelings and emotions clear. But whether it will come true or not, the truth will soon befall on you.

The day you planned to meet Jay was a cloudy one. It was likely a foreshadow, but you chose to ignore the overthinking you constantly did.

You were the first one there in the cafe, specifically sitting at that table by the corner which you and Jay usually hogged. Being there early due to mostly the anxiety, you got to calm your nerves down and prepare yourself to face Jay.

It shouldn't be hard to meet someone you already knew, but why did it feel that way? The unspoken feelings and those that were left hanging, unaddressed, was what haunted the both of you. You supposed this meet up with him would hopefully change that the slightest bit. All you hoped for was that he didn't become a stranger to you.

You failed to realise his approaching figure as you were sitting with your back facing the entrance, it was your usual spot anyway. Not to mention, his footsteps were quiet as ever, a thing about him that was unchanging.

"Y/N," you heard his voice before meeting his eyes, watching as he slipped onto the chair opposite of you, the warm aura of his never failing to provide a sense of comfort for you. "Hey,"

The change of his hair colour grabbed your attention first. The silvery colour that the light bounced on suited him well. He always wanted to experiment with his hair, and you didn't expect him to really do it. Other than that, he had the same features, same smile, same warm colour tone eyes and skin. All in all, he was the Jay you knew, the one you loved.

"Jay," you spoke his name as if it was a foreign taste on your tongue. His irises flashed an unreadable spark at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. You fell into silence, not knowing how to start the conversation whereas he seemed rather speechless instead.

He shook himself out of it, a slight frown etched onto his lips. "Thanks for making time to see me. I know … you probably didn't want to, so I'm glad you came," his tone contradicted the way his texts sounded, the initial confidence was currently wavering.

"It's no problem," you shook your head softly, a secret hope you had kept shouting in your mind where he would fix everything.

"I didn't want to leave us at that, Y/N," his sudden confession surprised you, but it left your heart beating in both anticipation and anxiety. "The way we left things, it wasn't right. I wasn't right for doing the things I did,"

You knew what he was talking about, or at least the obvious one out of the bunch. That night at his place where you were tipsy and he was holding you in his arms, you accidentally let out the secret you've been holding in: you loved him. As expected, it obviously strained the relationship as he insisted on it being nothing serious. You were stupid for thinking he would've reciprocated it, but all he did was leave you stranded on the empty space of heartbreak alone.

"I'm sorry. I was an asshole, and I was an idiot for not realising how much you meant to me until you weren't there next to me. You carved a hole in my life and my heart was moulded for you," his gaze fell to the table, an audible draw of breath from him.

Jay glanced up to lock his eyes with yours again, the twitch of his hand that was holding itself back from reaching over to you. "I'm not a religious man, Y/N, but every night I prayed for God to lead me back to you," he swallowed thickly, "I know I fucked up, that's why we stopped … everything. I deserved it, but I really want to fix everything,"

You opened your mouth to speak just to close it after a passing second. He said exactly what you wished for him to say, but why was it so hard grasping everything before you? Was it the shock?

"I missed you, Jay," it was the truth, an angering truth that you held onto for ages. "I really did. I think about you a lot and the mistakes we made. I wish we could go back to the way we were. You're my best friend," you knew that word wasn't just what it was, it held something more than that. "And I just want you back,"

The softening of his gaze only exposed the vulnerability on your face. "Can we start again?" He said quietly, seemingly testing the waters. "As friends, and we'll go slow,"

"I'd like that," you nodded, never leaving his gaze. You didn't say it, neither did he, but you weren't putting away the chances of something more than just friends, an unspoken hope that you kept. Maybe this time, everything would turn out right.

Before you parted ways with Jay and left for home, you shared a simple conversation in front of the cafe. Just like old times, the conversation flowed naturally as if time didn't separated the two of you in the first place.

"Can I hug you?"

For the first time in many months, you felt the warmth and touch of Jay's that you missed. It was familiar, comforting, a band aid that covered the crack on your heart. This was the first step to heal that broken heart of yours. Closure. It was for the better.

The rest of your day was only filled with thoughts of him, till the point where it had you lying in bed, awake and turning, wondering about the fate of you and him. A second chance was about to make or break everything.

The next time you saw Jay again was at a party his frat brother held.

Ever since that day at the cafe, you didn't stop texting Jay. You realised at one point that you had fallen back into your old self once more. Giggling at his messages, anticipating his notifications, calling him at odd hours. All of which didn't go unnoticed by you, and you wondered if you should be horrified or nonchalant. Given that you and him were on better, speaking terms now, you brushed it off as nothing.

"Well, isn't it my favourite girl," Jay had his arms wide open the moment he approached you, that smile of his glowing from a distance away.

You smiled back, you always did anyway, letting him embrace you into his arms. "You smell like beer," you scrunch your nose up in distaste, pushing yourself off of him, but your arms around his shoulders remain.

"But I'm sober," he casted a wink at you, ignoring your eye roll as he took your arm from your shoulder and slid his fingers into your hand. "Come on, the guys are over there,"

To think about explaining this to the rest of your friends was going to be interesting to say the least. They already knew from your continuous text screaming for bloody help, but for them to witness it in person? You couldn't help but wish to cower into a corner out of embarrassment.

Heeseung was the first to raise a discreet eyebrow at you when you approached, hands intertwined with Jay, the same guy you swore you cut contacts with. That's a lie, apparently. Jake and Sunghoon seemed impassive, but you could tell from their several exchanges of glances, they thought the same as Heeseung did. However, both you and Jay were their friends, and no matter how messy it was, they were just the people stuck in between.

Jay eventually excused himself from the conversation to get more drinks for himself. You had a feeling he was about to be drunk by the end of the night no matter how he denied that. You knew his patterns through and through. Once he was out of ear shot, the boys turned to stare at you accusingly.

"Did you guys kiss?" Jake was the first to be blunt. The other two were eager to know the truth as well.

You practically jumped in your seat, as if a bullet had shot through your chest. In that way, his zero filtered question had that effect. "What? No! We agreed on being just friends,"

"For now," Heeseung chimed in.

"What?"

"You were literally holding hands with him,"

"It's platonic,"

"Considering your past with him, I think that's the last thing you can claim as platonic when it comes to Jay," Heeseung quipped back, making a valid point that you chose to ignore.

"Whatever. We're currently friends and we're not rushing into anything. We don't want to ruin it," you rubbed your arm uneasily, the thought of your past recurring saddened you.

"Then when are you going to actually get together?" Sunghoon asked, sounding rather exasperated as though he's the one in your position. At one point, you wished you could trade places.

"Ask him that," you leaned your head onto Jake's shoulder for emotional support, the question from Sunghoon was a second bullet to your heart. You had been the one sending signals from the start, but when it came to Jay reciprocating it, it was rather bleak.

"You're still hung over him? It never … went away?" Heeseung leaned his body closer, increasingly immersed into the conversation deeper.

"How could it go away when I've always been in love with him?"

The words stuck to you throughout the night. The truth and reality of you loving a man that threw everything away was a burden you carried. The egging thought of wondering if Jay even reciprocated the feelings after a year crept into your head. He didn't reach out to reconnect for nothing, did he?

Just as you've guessed, Jay was truly drunk out of his mind by the time the party was ending. Your friends were trying their best to haul Jay into his apartment while you trailed behind, wishing you were more of help than this. Jay was eventually dumped onto his bed, slurring out random sentences that made zero sense to you.

"Do you need me to drop you back? I didn't drink," Heeseung turned to you first once all of you stepped out of Jay's room.

"I'll be fine. I didn't drink much, so I think I can drive myself back. I also want to stay a while more to make sure he's fine," you took a glance back at the open bedroom door, seeing Jay still awake and turning uncomfortably.

"Will you be okay? I mean, you just started talking again, I don't want you to be uncomfortable," Heeseung placed an assuring hand on your shoulder, concern filled eyes boring into yours. You hadn't even thought about this before, the emotions you had whenever with Jay.

You smiled at your friend. "It's Jay. I will never feel that way about him,"

Heeseung reciprocated your smile, seemingly more relieved. "I know."

Your friends soon left, the loud sounds of their drunken chatters faded into the night, leaving you in a deafening silence. A deep intake of breath was what helped you regain your confidence back to finally step into Jay's room, facing a dazed looking Jay who was sitting on the edge of his bed. He seemed a tad bit more sober from the multiple cups of water he had drunk.

"Are you alright?" You took a few steps forward, holding onto the doorframe.

He glanced up, the dim light provided by his desk lamp illuminated his face, the sharpness of his features contrasted the tears he had swimming in his eyes. It was unmistakable, but it weighed you down onto the ground, not knowing if you should be taking another step.

"Jay?" You called out cautiously, swallowing thickly. A quiet sob broke the short silence which followed, the glistening tears made their way down his cheeks. It was your first time seeing him as vulnerable as this.

You got to his side, knelt on the ground, trying to search for his gaze which persisted to run away from yours. He tried hiding his face behind his hands, but you were quick to stop him, holding onto them tightly. It was then he was forced to finally meet your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you heard his weak voice utter out, his hand that you held onto gripped yours. "I'm sorry," he whispered tearfully.

It was your first time witnessing him this broken, crying nonstop and leaving his emotions out on display. For the first time in ages, you couldn't properly read him like you've always done. Was it your fault for making him feel this way? Was there nothing but pain in this so-called relationship you and him shared?

"I miss you," it was a confession, a painful sounding confession that he's held onto for a long time, the look in his eyes told you he meant it, but there was something else that he had: grief. "I'm sorry,"

You didn't know how long it was that you stared at him for, the thoughts in your mind had been long gone, the shell of your body remained. His words and the emotions behind them were heavier than you anticipated, it hit you hard and rough. You sighed, lowering your head for a second. "You should get some sleep, Jay. It's late and you're buzzed. I'll talk to you in the morning,"

Jay was silent. You could tell there was a hint of disappointment from him that you wished you weren't the cause of it. You got up to your feet, staring at the top of his head as he fought to avoid your eyes. So be it. As you turned to leave, you felt a hand around your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

"Will you stay?"

You've heard this one too many times. Yet, you were always a victim to it. Unlike most times, you knew this was different, letting your heart guide you to him instead of your head. It might've been foolish, but you were willing to be a fool that was persistently in love just for him.

"I'll stay."

That night, you barely slept as he laid in your lap, sound asleep. Your fingers traced the sharpness of his features, smoothing over the softness of them. You wondered to yourself whether reconnecting was a good idea in the first place if this odd feeling of yours kept cutting deep into your heart every time you're with Jay.

You would never wish to leave him once more, but did he feel the same as you do? Or will he be the first to let you go again?

Maybe, just this once, you'd have to be the first to let go, even if it's a small step, it was something better than nothing.

With one last apologetic look at Jay, you closed his bedroom door and left his home with a heavier heart than usual. By the time morning comes, you hoped both yours and his memories from the night before would be a fever dream. Something so intimate and vulnerable, how were you to forget quickly? Even as you drifted off to sleep in your bed, you could still remember the tears on Jay's face, it being the last thing you remember before waking up to your doorbell ringing.

It was as if your thoughts had manifested Jay to show up at your doorstep. He wasn't a figment of your imagination, but actual flesh and bones. No matter how you rubbed your eyes trying to get yourself to be more awake, he wasn't disappearing away from view. He was real.

"Can we talk?"

Those three words immediately brought dread for you. Jay's face was impassive, but it was evident that he was tired, restless. You nodded, moving away to let him in. It was easy for you to let him in, whether it was your home or your heart, you've always kept a space for him.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about?" You stepped closer to him, seeing as he hadn't taken a seat and feeling something odd shift in the air.

"Us, Y/N, us," Jay breathed out, strained and hoarse, as if saying that word had pained him deeply. "I don't like this, I hate it. The 'us' that we are now,"

"What?"

"We can't keep continuing on like this. We can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not,"

It was too early for this, too early for you to be feeling burning internal rage. "Are you kidding? So what are you going to do? Leave me alone again? Go no contact with me again just because you don't want to face me again?"

"No!" Jay took a step closer to you, eyes blazing with equal fiery as yours. "I'm not ending things again, never. I can't lose you this time," his voice wavered, his hand reaching for yours and you let him hold your hand. Was that your first mistake? "I'm in love with you,"

You wished those words hadn't left his lips. For ages, you thought him confessing his true feelings would've fixed things, fixed you and him both, but at that moment, you realised it wasn't that easy, the cracks on your heart remained.

"I know when you look at me, you see everything that went wrong, but when I look at you, I see the person I'm in love with," every word pierced your heart deeper, the desperation in his voice was clear, a saddening tragedy was imminent.

"You don't get to do this," you whispered, backing away from him and freeing your hand from his hold. The hurt that flashed across his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you. "You don't get to tell me you're in love with me out of nowhere after we stop talking. It's not fair,"

"Am I … too late?" His voice was quiet, in the midst of the hurt was a pinch of hope.

"You're not," you didn't want to lie, you knew your feelings were the same and unchanged, but you just weren't ready to cave in and accept his feelings that fast. It wasn't fair. "Time. That's what we need to start afresh,"

Jay nodded, jaw clenched, face stoic. There was no denying that he was hurt, he didn't hide it anyway. "I'll make it right. I'll fix us."

Was it possible to mend everything?

Attending a party to get drunk was probably the worst idea you had in a while.

The thoughts of you and Jay haunted you like a sickening plague, the conversation you had with him was constantly eating you up from the inside. You were pushing him away, you knew so, you were becoming like him in some ways. How ironic it was.

That was why the moment Julie invited you to her boyfriend's house party, you knew you had to have some type of getaway, though it wasn't the most ideal. The only problem you didn't appreciate her not telling you earlier was the person you wanted to avoid most was standing with the rest of your friends in a corner playing pool.

"Look, I didn't know they were coming," Julie defended herself, leaning her body close to your side. "What's up with you and Jay anyway?"

"It's complicated,"

Julie sighed, shaking her head. "Of course it is, but how blind and dumb could you both be?"

"Hey!"

"It's obvious you like him and he likes you, why can't you guys just—I don't know—get together?"

"It's not that easy, I wish it was. I think we're both hurt, or I'm the coward this time. We … talked, he finally said he loves me, but I can't accept it just yet,"

"Why not?"

"I gave my heart to him, Julie. For years I willingly gave my heart to a man that constantly blocked me from his heart, which was why we ended things. Only then he realised his true feelings and right now he's asking for my heart back. I just don't think it's fair," your eyes dropped to the carpeted ground, gripping onto your plastic cup tightly.

"Then would you rather regret it?"

"Huh?"

"Would you regret after pushing him away and never becoming something you've always wished to be? Constantly think about the what-ifs? I know I'm not in the right to say anything since I'm not you, but the only thing I wish to say is to go with your heart," she placed a hand on your shoulder. "If your heart yearns for him, it'll always stay that way."

Why couldn't you stop your heart from yearning for Jay? It was as if Julie had read you like a book, even in those times where you and him stopped contacting one another, you never once forgot about him. It was true, your heart was yearning for him.

Meeting new people that were introduced by Julie and her boyfriend momentarily took your mind off Jay. Their friends were people you probably wouldn't meet again, so you didn't mind when you were left alone with one of them.

"You come by here often?" Juyeon, one of the guys, was by your side like a leech instead of being a good company. His presence was screaming red blaring signals to you.

"Not much," you chuckled awkwardly, wondering when Julie would return with the rest of her friends.

"Can I take you out some time?" Wow, he sure knew how to cut to the chase.

"What?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to come by to my place after this?"

Oh, this was your sign to run, wasn't it? "I—well, I have someone to meet—"

"Come on, give me a chance—" he grabbed onto your hand right before you could successfully leave, this was when you remind yourself never to get involved with frat boys.

"Sorry—" you didn't have the chance to finish your sentence when your hand was forcefully ripped away from his hold, another familiar feeling of someone's hand on yours instead. You turned just in time to see Jay standing beside you, visibly fuming.

"Leave her alone, man," he placed himself in front of you, shielding you away from Juyeon.

"Look, I'm just trying to invite her over. You know what, she's nothing special anyway—" the sound of Jay's fist clashing into Jueyon's jaw stopped him from continuing on. You were too shocked to comprehend everything happening before you, even as Jay lunged onto the man, you could do nothing but stare.

"Jay!" The shouts of his name clicked in your mind, breaking you out of your shell-shocked state. Every one of your friends rushed to get Jay off of Juyeon who ended up scrambling away, leaving a crowd of onlookers.

He was hesitant to turn around and look at you, you could tell so from his stiff shoulders, but you stayed hoping to see his face. You reached your hand out shakily to touch his shoulder, yet, before you could actually do so, he turned around, eyes avoiding to meet yours.

"Jay—"

There he went brushing past you, not a single word spoken from him. The slamming of the front door snapped you out of the hurtful daze you were in to follow him out of the house. He was standing on the pavement, unmoving. You approached him carefully, scared and paranoid of executing a wrong move.

"Jay," you walked to stand before him, feeling a tinge of hurt when he took a step back away from you. "Jay," you repeated his name, this time with a bit more desperation. "Why did you do that?" There was no answer, only a sullen silence which blurred into the night.

You shifted your attention to his fist, the forming of a bruise and some cracked skin decorated the fist he used to punch Juyeon. Your hand absentmindedly reached for his. "You're hurt," you were about to touch his hand when he pulled away, avoiding your hold, a look of hurt flashed across your features, but you tried to hide it.

"I can't let him talk to you like that," he whispered, looking anywhere but you. You wished to grab his shoulder and forcefully make him look at you.

"Jay, it's okay,"

"It's not!" He snapped, finally having the nerves to meet your eyes. His change of tone shocked you, your feet took a step back unknowingly. "It's not okay. Not when I feel like I'm going insane thinking you're going to get yourself in danger,"

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't," Jay heaved a breath in, voice shaking slightly. "I should be the one to say sorry for acting this way. I'm sorry,"

"Jay—"

"I'll see you around. Get home safe." You couldn't even reach him and he was already gone, leaving into the night. There was a twisting feeling in your heart that was unbearable. Was this the end of it all?

You felt even worse walking back into the house when the rest of your friends asked you about Jay and his whereabouts. It was awkward staying there after what went down, so you ended up going back home too, throwing yourself in bed to forget everything that had happened.

Jay, the fight, Juyeon, you wished those three things never happened that night. You wished you and Jay never happened at all.

"You're just going to leave it at that?"

A bottle of alcohol late at night with the company of your friends without Jay was what you needed after a rollercoaster of a events. The amount of shots you've taken wasn't enough to blur the image of Jay's tear stained cheek or the hurt in his eyes when he told you he loved you, not even the time he avoided your touch. You wondered if love was meant to be this painful. If it was, why were you so adamant on it?

"I … don't know," you set the glass down, chewing the insides of your cheek. "It'll be too cliche and stupid to say it's complicated, right? I think I'm just hurting him. I still love him, but I can't let myself to do so. It's weird, him reconnecting after a year and suddenly telling me he's in love with me out of the blue. What does all that mean?"

Sunghoon let out a hiss from the shot he took in one go, then turned to you. "Jay might be a dumbass for realising his faults and feelings a little too late, but there's one thing I'm sure about him, and that is how much he cares for you and loves you. I remember after you guys cut contact, he had trouble sleeping for months. He said the thought of you leaving haunted him,"

"I know it's unfair to you how he's only realised his true feelings now," Heeseung interjected, pouring another round into your glass. "But I think you're just hurting yourself more by pushing him away, just like how he did to you. You love him, don't you? Don't repeat the same mistakes, you've wasted a whole year together, don't waste a lifetime regretting what could've been."

Two stubborn people walking in constant circles, that was you and Jay. Too scared to face your feelings, hurting not only the other but also yourself.

Being absolutely emotional and pissed drunk only resulted in you crying your eyes out, which made your friends worried out of their minds till the point where they had to call the person who would know how to comfort you. However, they failed to realise in time that the same person was the cause of your tears.

"Where is she?" You heard his voice from a mile away, it was something you'd never forget. The others were slowly leaving your apartment after hoisting you to your bedroom. The process of which involved you sobbing and your drunk friends trying not to drop you.

The thudding sound of footsteps filled the silence in your home. It stopped right at the doorstep to your bedroom, the hesitation was evident when he entered after several beats. You laid on your side, facing away from him. His approaching figure made your heart race, you felt the bed dip beneath you upon him taking a seat next to you.

"You're awake, aren't you?"

You glanced up at him, the dimness of your room casted a shadow across his face, but he was still the most beautiful person you've seen. You slowly sat up, trying to move your body a distance away from him to make everything less surreal. The silence in the room was overwhelming, neither of you knew what to say first.

"Do you hate me?"

"What?"

"I was the first to let go this time," you chuckled dryly, doing everything but meeting his eyes, maybe you were the coward all along.

Jay let out a breath of disbelief, shaking his head. "How could I ever hate you?" It was a question, it was his truth, his dying truth that he held onto with all his heart. He glanced down, staring at his hands, the bruises from the hard punches thrown were healing. "I shouldn't have lashed out on you that night. It wasn't right for me to do so,"

In the midst of your hazy mind, your brain functioned well enough to recollect the memories he mentioned. Oh, that night, that incident. "It's alright, I know you didn't mean it, you were trying to look out for me, I get it," you averted your gaze, letting yourself smile a little to lessen the tension. "I think I was just scared,"

"Of what?"

"Of you leaving again,"

Jay's gaze softened in the darkness, his hand reaching out to hold yours and it was one of those times that you let him do so knowing how your heart felt like exploding. "I'm never leaving, nor do I hate you. I hate myself for pushing you away, for realising everything too late, for hurting you," he took a deep, yet shaky breath, "If anything, I love you,"

The drowsiness you were experiencing somehow disappeared in a blink of an eye, your mind blank, all you could hear in the back of your mind was those three words which Jay uttered. The air around you and him had shifted, the angry tension dissipated.

You felt his hold on your hand tightening, just the same as your heart tightening at the sight of Jay's heartbroken smile. "I love you," it was a confession, something ever so freeing to finally be able to say to him knowing your true feelings were reciprocated. "I'm sorry for running away,"

Jay moved closer, his face now barely a few inches away. Everything was a blur, how his other hand travelled to cup your cheeks, his breath practically fanning your lips. "I should be the one to say sorry," those were his last words before pressing his lips on yours.

It wasn't your first time kissing him, but something about the kiss was unlike the times you've experienced. Despite all those playful, lighthearted kisses you shared with Jay, you knew this was different. Jay was pouring his endless unspoken apologies and devotion, a mix of relief, sadness, longing were hidden behind it.

Even as you pulled away, you could feel the palpable longing between you and him. It was as if years of silent desperation, confusion and pining had melted into one, finally being addressed at that moment. Neither of you spoke a single word, just holding each other close, admiring one another. It was intimate, something you couldn't recreate with someone else.

"I will never leave you," he whispered, his thumb stroking your cheek reassuringly. "You're a piece of me and my heart, you make me whole. I would be a fool to ever let you go again,"

You stared at him as if he was your entire universe, the effect of his every word carved a space into your heart. Eyes closing momentarily, you let yourself melt into his touch, smiling softly. "I trust you."

That was all Jay needed to hear before a small smile spread across his face. You could hear it in silence, see the look on his face and that spark he has in his brown irises, you knew what it was, he was in love.

That night, he stayed with you until morning came. You held onto one another tightly, as though scared that it was the last day to be together. Little words were exchanged, but you were content by him holding you close.

For the first time in a while, you were able to fall asleep with no lingering thoughts, and for the first time ever, he was yours, and you were his.

Telling your friends you and Jay were finally together was a rollercoaster of emotions that you'd never forget.

It has been months since you and your best friend officially got together. The reactions from people around you were nothing but relief and support after knowing how much hell you two went through. For once, you actually believed in the 'forever' that was promised.

You didn't question the sound of keys unlocking your front door. It has become a habit for Jay to stop by your place every evening, almost just like before and it felt as if everything was falling back into place. Every visit of his came with something he prepared to surprise you, which was why his cheeky grin gave it away.

He pressed a kiss on the top of your head before joining you on the sofa, the playful smile of his never once left. "I have a surprise,"

"Chocolate cake?"

"Okay, something not edible,"

"What is it?" You couldn't help smiling too, nudging your boyfriend in an attempt to get him to reveal his so-called surprise.

"Close your eyes,"

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious. Come on, close them!" He was giggling, egging you on to go along with whatever he has up his sleeves. "Now, give me your hand," You complied. Not long after, you felt something cold and small making contact with the skin of your palm. "Open your eyes,"

You were first met with Jay's anticipating gaze, then you looked down, seeing a ring sitting on the palm of your hand. "A ring?" You were surprised, picking it up to look at it closely. It was beautiful, simple yet so intricate in detail, as if it was customised for you.

"Don't worry, it's not an engagement ring, it's a promise ring. I know we did make a five year deal, but we're still taking it slow," he picked the ring from your hold and gently took your hand, slotting the ring into your ring finger. "Maybe in another five years time, I'll actually get to fulfil our pact and replace this with an engagement ring,"

This was the closest you've felt your heart exploding. Heat rushed to your face, heart beating nonstop, you were suddenly the person who's first developed a crush for Jay all over again. "Since when did you become so cheesy," you scoffed, a small smile rested on your lips.

"Only for you, duh," it wasn't a lie whatsoever, Jay never hid himself when it came to you. "Let's call some takeout and stay in,"

"Are you staying over tonight?"

"Only if your bed is open to let me in," he made himself comfortable next to you, throwing his arms around you to pull you closer to his side.

"You know it always is."

Jay didn't say anything, but his smile was enough of a response. No matter if it's your bed, house or heart, you've always reserved a spot specially for him. He made up a part of you just the same as you were with him. He was your home and safe space. You were glad you made that stupid pact on one drunken night that led him back to you.

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