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#there's always the other half of me thinking 'but what about ME'
mclqren · 1 day
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HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ★ FC43
PAIRING ✦ franco colapinto x fem!sargeant!reader
SUMMARY ✦ with your brother's seat being taken by your admirer of the past year, you try your best to stay clear, but it's hard when franco is trying so goddamn hard to get your attention [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing, very minor hate comments
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ i am NOT fluent in italian or spanish so please correct me if i've messed up on either of them! i count this as the best of both worlds because i love having franco on the grid but i'm missing my goat logan. the faceclaim i've used is marissa long but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, and 110,331 others
tagged logansargeant
yourusername logie, my bestest friend and the best older brother i could ever ask for. i am so so SO proud of you and the journey you have had during your formula one seasons. so many memories have been made, and i know that i will never ever forget the times we spent in the williams paddock, just having fun together (& bullying alex, obviously). the williams social media page won't be the same without me posting slips of you. trust me when i say this isn't the end, but simply the beginning. lots of love always and forever, y/n 💗
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logansargeant ❤️
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liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 94,522 others
yourusername someone hit me up with an italian man please, i love this country
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user4 oh she's taking it
user5 mother as perrrr
user6 the sargeant genetics are LETHALLL
user7 please someone tell me why is she in italy if her brother doesn't drive for williams anymore?
user8 she's the williams social media manager!! she started in the same year as logan x
logansargeant baby sis ❤️
yourusername love you sm 💗
francolapinto did you know i'm actually half italian?
francolapinto sei molto bella🙏🙏 (you are very pretty)
user9 second year running and he's after y/n AGAIN IM CRYING
user10 after taking her brother's seat too PLEASEEE he has guts i have to give it to him
user11 FRANCO'S COMMENT I'M DYINGGGG
user12 and the way she's ignoring it too oh my days 😭 it's been a year and he's still on this
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imessages ( y/n )
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liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 92,801 others
yourusername week off 🍏
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user16 farm girl???
user17 where is she 😭😭
yourusername my best friend's farm 💗
user18 multi-talented girl fr
user19 she looks like she BELONGS fr
user20 she def doesn't want to go back to the old 9-5
yourusername oh def not
yourbsf my angel 🪽🤍
yourusername best time w you alwaysss 💗
francolapinto never wanted to be a goat so badly
user21 I AM PISSING MYSELF
user22 HE IS SO BLATANT AT THIS POINTTTT
user23 @/yourusername PLEASE WE NEED YOUR THOUGHTS ON FRANCO'S COMMENTS
user24 she def won't answer but it's still so fucking funny i can't
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liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 97,210 others
yourusername most beautiful place 💗
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user28 beautyyyy
user29 please y/n we need to see your pinterest RIGHT NOW the vibes are everything
user30 okay but...you & franco??
user31 what about letting people have some privacy, hm?
user32 oh wowwww
francolapinto not as beautiful as you 😉❤️
yourusername 🤣🤣
user33 FRANCO YOU DID IT!!!
user34 watch as franco puts y/n noticed x1 in his bio now
user35 THE WAY HE ACTUALLY DID IT. GIRL...
user34 I AM CREASING I CANNOT
lilymhe baby girl 😍
yourusername my lilypad i love you to bits!!
logansargeant are you sure you and that lion aren't twins
yourusername i'm thinking we were separated at birth??
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liked by francolapinto, alex_albon, and 699,303 others
tagged francolapinto
williamsracing and just like that, mr colapinto is a point scorer in formula one, in his second ever race!! congratulations franco, take a bow 👏💗
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user38 CONGRATULATIONS FRANCOOO!!
user39 big question is...which admin posted this?
user40 one MILLION percent y/n. no doubt about it.
user41 you can tell y/n posted this bc of her signature pink heart HAHA
user42 i just know somewhere franco is kicking his feet and giggling over y/n telling him to take a bow for his performance
user43 oh franco colapinto you have won me over
user44 seeing this and lowkey feeling so sad for logan
user45 no but imagine how y/n must feel?? her brother just leaving and having to post this, she must hate franco right about now
user46 honestly, judging by the post race interview, i think y/n is fine with franco scoring points, tbh!
yourusername 👏👏💗
francolapinto hearts ❤️
user47 I AM SOBBING THIS IS TOO CUTE??
imessages ( franco )
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imessages ( y/n )
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liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 101,989others
yourusername 🦢🦢
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user48 IS MISS Y/N OUT ON A DATE???
user49 facecard could kill.
user50 Y/N ON A DATE WHO CHEERED
user51 someone check up on franco like right now.
user52 either franco is the guy in the pictures and that's why he's not commenting, or he's entered a depressive state
user53 knowing his dramatic ass it could be either
alex_albon mystery man 👀🤑
yourusername shhhh albon
logansargeant i'll fight him if he hurts you 😁
yourusername love you too logie 🧸
imessages ( y/n )
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liked by francolapinto, logansargeant, and 106,312 others
tagged francolapinto
yourusername city break 🇦🇷
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user54 FRANCO CAMEO FRANCO CAMEO THIS IS NOTTTT A DRILL
user55 I AM SCREAMING
user56 alexa play how you get the girl by taylor swift
user57 she's in his hometown...so this serious stuff now
user58 Y/N I LOVE YOU FOR THIS
francolapinto 😁❤️❤️
yourusername 💗💗
logansargeant willing to fly out to collect you if i have to 🫡
yourusername i promise you i'm fine 💗
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liked by alex_albon, yourusername, and 1,112,091 others
tagged yourusername
francolapinto 1 AÑO DESPUÉS… ¡¡TENGO A LA CHICA!! ¡¡VAMOS!! la persona más hermosa por dentro y por fuera, con el corazón más grande que jamás haya existido. estoy tan feliz en este momento que las palabras no pueden explicarlo. te amo te amo te amo ❤️ (1 YEAR LATER… I GOT THE GIRL!! COME ON!! the most beautiful person inside and out, with the biggest heart that ever lived. i am so happy right now that words cannot explain it. i love you i love you i love you ❤️)
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user59 original y/n franco fans RISE
user60 WE ARE THE REAL WINNERS!!
user61 oh he is in love for real
user62 need someone to love me how he loves y/n
user63 their love is so so special
user64 okay but how's logan feeling about all this...? must be so awkward...
user65 judging by his comment...i think he's doing absolutely fine 🤣
logansargeant hurt her and i'm at your doorstep. 😊
francolapinto will never be a problem 🫡
yourusername you're the cutest ever
yourusername FRANCO 🤣🤣
francolapinto let me share my love for you, no?
yourusername i wanna kiss you so bad rn
logansargeant keep it pg-13 please.
yourusername logan.
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TAGS ✦ @shepgurl ; @blushmimi ; @nyxx-knight ; @fall-bambi ; @suns3treading ; @wowzees ; @d3kstar ; @poppysrin ; @ailooosworld ; @joalslibrary ; @dejavuontrack ; @dripostsstuff ; @kaylassturniolo
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celiime · 3 days
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inspired by die with a smile by bruno and gaga! ^^
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thinking about how satoru’s death contradicted his own words, carrying no meaning when he found himself dying beside his, you, his wife.
“when you die, you die alone.”
satoru didn’t know how he’d come to swallow these words the second he found himself dying—with his sweet wife beside him, holding his hand through it all—he always held a belief that death doesn’t scare him.
at least, not when his beloved was right next to him.
the blood gushing down his cuts, his body split in half, each half parted from the other, blood a blinding red color bubbling from his lips, making its way down the side of his face. even to a sorcerer as strong as gojo satoru, it would have still been a scare, to die like that…
however, he found that he couldn’t feel any of that. no fear was in his system, no shred of concern, no worry. it was all just solace. he felt no pain, no guilt, no regrets.
everything seemed to float away as soon as his wife’s lips settled upon his sweaty forehead—marred with blood and cuts—soft and warm, reminding him of that same kiss you gave him just this morning.
“satoru…” a soft mumble of yours, so fleeting, almost lost to the own blood spilling out of the cut—where you lost your arm.
his eyes blinked drowsily at you, barely mustering the strength to focus on your arm—or well…the empty socket of what it used to be. despite himself, his heart clenches painfully at the sight of you like this, so weak and battered up…couldn’t you die in a less painful way?
his injuries didn’t hurt, his cut up body didn’t hurt. what hurt the most was the sight of you, the sight of you all cut up and marred with blood that shouldn’t be on your precious features.
oh…his precious baby. still doting on him even as they’re both on death’s door.
you had always loved him as if it’s the last time you will ever get to show your feelings, always hugged him so tenderly, as if he’s close to withering away. Your kisses were always so gentle, slow and passionate, taking his breath away.
and in turn? he gave everything to you. satoru promised to himself that he would give you anything you asked for, just a simple bat of your eyelashes and he would destroy the world for you.
he loved you as if it’s the last time he’ll get to love you.
and he will continue to love you, even as death precedes. death won’t separate him from his beloved.
“look at…you…” his voice, barely croaking out, was as soft as ever, “an…angel—“ a cough left his throat, choking on the blood leaving his mouth—
his heart warmed as you shakily smoothed your bloody palms over his face, half lidded eyes carrying worry in them.
“are you…coming to—to take me to heaven? heh.” even in his near death state, his delirious state, losing blood by the gallons, he still found it in himself to crack a small comment—to comfort his beloved bride.
satoru never believed in the after-life, but ever since he married you…he found himself wishing that there is one, so that his time with you will be endless.
a shaky chuckle left your lips, thumb smoothing over his cheekbones, “no, idiot. i’m—“ you gasped, feeling your body throb with the pain, “going with you.”
“wherever you go, that’s where i’ll always follow you, toru.” you had uttered the day you confessed your fear of losing him.
you knew it was the end. you knew there was no more living after this. no more seeing your students in the morning and greeting them, no more stressing over missions, no more…fighting curses.
your teary eyes studied your husband’s features, bleary gaze fighting to focus—to memorize his features even after you were in your own grave.
did this mean no more seeing your husband too?
oh, you were going to be sick. just at the mere thought.
satoru—the ever so strong sorcerer that never wavered—found tears welling up in his own eyes, breath hitching at the absolutely precious look on your soft features.
god, how can you be this pretty even while all marred with injuries and blood? how could you be this stunning even through his delirious eyes?
he hoped he would get to see that face in heaven. if the gods pitied him enough, surely they would.
they would pity this absolutely smitten man, so pitiful and pathetic in the face of his undying love for his wife.
because, even as you both were dying, blood seeping through both of your injuries, staining the ground with red—you were holding his hand, sitting next to him as you waited for the blood loss to finally grasp your soul.
you spoke true to your words, you truly did follow him—even to death.
his precious wife. his beloved bride. his world.
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for his last breaths, he used them to pray to the gods, to beg and plead for him to see you in the afterlife. to grant the wish of a smitten man.
dying was not so bad, death is peaceful and serene, especially when the last sight he saw before his fluttering eyes was the soft smile of his wife—oh so delicate and full of love, the faint feeling of her forehead on his own being the last thing he felt.
“thank—you for…loving...” his last words, not meant to be a goodbye—but just in case, right? what if the afterlife did not exist? “m..e..”
“i’ll continue loving you.” you smiled down at your husband, feeling his chest stutter with a final breath beneath your weight, before it completely stilled. Your misty eyes fluttered, pressing the tip of your nose to his, stealing one last act of intimacy before eventually fading into darkness.
even death can’t snuff down the love you have for eachother. Nothing, no force, no strong force can stop you from loving eachother.
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“you were soooo sappy!” a giggle left your lips, pink and plump, no signs of blood on them, both arms intact—evident in the way you had your arms wrapped around one of your husband’s toned arms.
a whine left his lips, “you’re such a hater! so what? i cant confess my love to my cute little wife? especially when i thought i wouldn’t see her pretty face again?” he huffed, looking down at you with a pout. no blood on his one face, either.
you stilled—
your big baby. your smitten husband. oh how you loved him.
“true…” a small hum left your lips, relishing in the way his free hand seemed to rest on your head, “thank you for loving me…satoru. even in the afterlife.”
your husband was the one to pause this time, her eyes rounding with surprise, heart stuttering in his chest—feeling his breath completely leave his body at your earnest confession of love.
“oh, who’s the sappy one, now?”
oh, how meek did his wife sound? he wanted to hold you for as long as the afterlife was eternal.
“but…i’ll continue loving you. wherever you go, and no matter what happens. ‘kay?”
the gods granted the request and prayer of a smitten man.
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can’t believe i finished writing this heh!! this is a little something something…i’ve been so fixated on gojo’s death lately, and him as a whole…and bruno and gaga’s song just sparked up so many ideas!! i hope u guys enjoy!! a bit of a continuation—? or alternate ending to this!
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luveline · 2 days
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can I pls pls pls get an other single dad Spencer I'm on my knees here jade baby! I would love a fic where they r dating and reader comes over and basically Amy is like ur his gf?? But I thought u were my best friend?! And she's upset and reader is just like babe I can be both! Obvs we r bffs! And then May be she asks Spencer if she can take amy out of ice cream or something just the girls
thank you for your request! fem, 1.4k
Peeling Amy’s grapes is a repetitive, calming task. You press your nail to the top of the grape where the stalk had been, carving away a sliver of the fruit as you pinch the skin and pull. It comes away in small, triangular pieces that you put in the bowl on your lap. 
You put the naked grape in Amy’s hand. They’re seedless, so all she has to do is chew. 
“Thank you,” she says, distracted by the TV. 
“You’re welcome.” You move to another grape. 
You’re sitting together on the couch in Spencer’s apartment. Spencer sits at the dining table across the way, writing a letter, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Bright afternoon sunlight ebbs in through the window behind the kitchen sink to kiss his arms and illuminate his workspace, a beam of it catching his arm, his fine hairs like strands of gold. 
“Spence?”
“Yeah?” 
“Are we still going to the library?” 
“Yeah…” His writing gets very fast. He finishes it off with a smile and a resounding period, picking the paper up and folding it in a clean half. “I can post my letter at the same time.” 
You watch him give his hair a vigorous scratching as he stands. “I’m gonna go get a sweater,” he says, making for his bedroom. 
You follow him until he’s gone. Amy hums, kid-talk for please pay attention to me. 
“Oh, sorry. Forgot your grapes.” 
“Why do you look at him like that?” 
You smile shyly. “Uh, like what?” 
Her brown eyes widen as her eyebrows pinch together. “I don’t know. You looked at him for a long time.” 
“I guess I like looking at him, ‘cos I really like him. You’re beautiful because of so many things, but your dad is part of the reason. He’s beautiful, so you’re beautiful.” 
She wrinkles her nose, but she’s smiling. “You really like him?” she whispers. 
“Of course I do,” you whisper back, “he’s my boyfriend.” 
Amy winces hard. “What?” she asks. 
She’s suddenly and emphatically incredulous. You take her hand, but she takes it right back and stands up on the couch. She gives you a weird look as she backs away, sitting heavily on the armrest. “He’s your boyfriend?” 
“Why do you think I’m always here these days?” 
You know you’ve said the complete wrong thing the moment it leaves your mouth. You’re honestly shocked she didn’t know; Amy is a very smart little girl, and you were under the impression she knew about you and her father being a couple. But she’s also just a little girl, with big feelings. 
“I thought you were here to see me,” she says softly. 
You push the bowl of grapes across the coffee table, remorseful. “Amy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I come here to see you, too, of course I do, I love spending time with you.” 
Her eyes fill with tears. She’s not a crocodile crier, at least not when you’re around. You know these to be the genuine deal, and that makes it much worse for you. 
“Babe, I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean it like that, I promise. I’m here to see you, too, it’s not just to see your dad.” 
“Because we’re best friends,” she says. 
“Of course we are.” You open your hands. “Of course.” 
She finally takes your hands, despite her tears. Her face has turned dark with a hot flush, embarrassment twisting her lips into an expression that turns your heart. 
“I’m sorry for what I said,” you whisper. “Can you forgive me? You’re so important to me, Amanda.” 
Spencer appears behind her looking like a deer caught in bright headlights. You ignore him, giving Amy’s fingers a rolling squeeze. 
“I thought we were best friends– and– and–” She sucks in a shaky breath as a fresh crest of tears fall. “I thought you were here to see me.” 
“I am here to see you.” 
You’ve done loads of things with Amy without Spencer’s involvement. If he sleeps in, you and Amy watch cartoons together in your pyjamas eating breakfast burritos. You’ve babysat her on short notice, you had her for a sleepover once so he could give a talk in Michigan. You and Amy do tons of things without her father, like eating peeled grapes, and jigsaw puzzles while he reads, and girl talk. You cuddle. 
Poor girl. 
“Amy, I love you.” 
“You do?” 
“So much!” You wipe the tears from her chin. 
“I didn’t know that– that dad was your boyfriend,” she says bashfully. 
“Me and your dad started as best friends, that’s why. He’s my second bestest friend ever.” 
“Who’s number one?” she asks. 
You poke her chest gently. “Who do you think?” 
She nods and looks down. She wipes her cheeks, and that’s what upsets you the most in the whole ordeal. Her hands look small and uncoordinated. 
“You okay, angel?” Spencer asks, coming up from behind to hug her. 
“Sorry,” she says. 
“It’s okay. Crying is okay,” he murmurs. “What happened?” 
“I didn’t know you were boyfriend and girlfriend.” 
“I’m sorry, I thought you knew,” Spencer says, giving her arm a soft up and down, “when I told you we were dating I should’ve been more clear about what that means. I’m very sorry we confused you.” 
“It’s good!” she says, sniffling, pressing a little sob into Spencer’s chest. 
You bite your cheek. You really hadn’t meant to do this to her, just she’s as empathetic as her father. She’s a bubbling mess against him. 
You look at Spencer. It’s your fault, you misspoke, and you’re asking him to save you as a kindness. 
“What’s making you cry, sweetheart?” he whispers, pulling her right into his chest. 
“I just wanted to be her best friend.” 
“You are,” he whispers, nose against her temple, “I might be her boyfriend, but you think she likes me so much she’s here every single weekend? No way. She sees me every day at work, she doesn’t need to come over if all she wants to do is see me. But you know who she doesn’t see at work?” 
“Me…” 
“Exactly. She comes here every weekend to be with you, so we can all be together. Okay?” 
“Okay,” she says, taking in another shaky breath. 
“Are you crying because you’re still upset, or because it’s just a feeling?” he asks softly, slowly. “It’s okay if you’re still sad, but maybe we need to have some water?” 
“Okay,” she says, stretching it into one big cry. 
“Could I give you a hug?” you ask. You’re lost. 
She nods. Spencer says, “Okay, you guys hug and I’ll go get my Amy a glass of water.” 
You fold Amy into an embrace carefully. She’s heavy with her upset but she wants the hug, her arms at your sides as she rubs her nose against your shoulder. “Amy,” You say, taking a pause to brush her hair from her warm neck, “I’m sorry, angel. I really am. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 
She sounds just like her dad as she replies. “I didn’t mean to cry.” 
“Well, that’s okay! If I thought you didn’t want to be my friend either I would be just as upset.” 
“You would?” 
“Amy, do you know how much I love seeing you? I would sit here and watch TV and peel grapes with you every day of the week, I’d love to…” You hope Spencer won’t mind what you’re about to suggest. “In fact, maybe you and I need to do more things together, what do you think? When was the last time we went to Penny’s Ice Cream Parlour?” 
She looks up at you with love and apt suspicion. “You just want me to feel better.” 
“Of course I do. I should be allowed to take my favourite girl for ice cream, right?” 
Spencer hesitates in the kitchen with the fairy glass half full. You’re stroking Amy’s hair away from her neck, so sorry, and so lovely. He couldn’t want anything more in life than Amy, but if he got to choose, he would love to have you, and to have you treat her as you are now, nothing but affection in your touch as you soothe her overstimulation. “We can go alone?” Amy asks. 
“Sure, bubby, we can go just you and me. Banana splits?” 
Spencer loves her, but he loves ice cream, too. “Wait, why can’t I come?”
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mywritersmind · 2 days
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TOUCH ME - LN4
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summary : y/n shows her affection through hugs, kisses, and just plain touching. lando is sad when he realizes that she does this with everyone but him.
listen up : no warnings!! cuteness!! singapore win!
word count : 747
⋆。‧˚⋆
It had been bothering him for months. Lando noticed when he and Y/n started becoming friends. After a long period of not liking each other, the two finally agreed to put their differences aside because of all their mutual friends.
Their mutual friends started becoming the issue for Lando.
She touches everyone. Not in a weird way, she just shows affection through touch… Through touching anyone but him.
Lando watches her in his drivers room, she’s drawing on the small whiteboard; a tiny lando and a tiny y/n in the corner.
“Why do you touch everyone?” He asks out of nowhere, she turns back slightly, giving him a look before turning back to the board.
“My love language is touch… I guess? At least that’s what people tell me.” She shrugs, coming to the end of the drawing.
“But you don’t touch me.” This makes her pause for a moment before finishing off the drawing and turning back around to face the man.
He's sitting on his drivers bed, race suit unzipped half way and water bottle in hand.
“You want me to touch you?” she raises a brow, teasing him a bit.
He looks down at his water, fiddling with the straw, “I just mean- we’re friends, right? You seem to kiss and hug everyone except for me.”
This makes her more uncomfortable, she slips her hands in her pockets and shrugs, “I don’t mean to not. I guess it’s just different with you.”
“How am I different from Oscar or Charles?” He looks up at her again, his eyes so bright, “They both have girlfriends and you don’t seem bothered.”
Y/n laughs, not thinking before speaking, “Yeah because I’m not into them like that.”
Lando’s eyes widen a bit, “But- you’re into me… like that?” Y/n decides there is two options,
1. Confess her feelings for Lando, ruining all the progress they’ve made to have a good and comfortable friendship while simultaneously risking rejection from someone she really cares about.
2. Lie.
Two seems safer.
“Of course not.” she shakes her head.
Lando doesn’t believe her, or he just doesn’t want to believe her, “So why don’t you touch me? Even after I won in Zandvoort you didn’t hug me.” she hadn't realized how much this had hurt him. She was simply thinking about the hundreds of cameras facing them and how she was already blushing.
Someone knocks on the door then, calling out, “Lando, Warm up starting now.” He swallows, looking up at Y/n.
“I’ll go.” She says quietly, wondering how everything so quickly went south, “Good Luck, Lan.”
⋆。‧˚⋆
Y/n watched the race with Max, on the edge of her seat and sweating. The moment Lando crossed the finish line, a grin was permanently planted onto her face.
After every interview, the podium, a shower, and change of clothes, he walked out to the track where Y/n sat.
She jumped up and hugged him.
“You’re so fucking amazing.” Lando’s heart skipped a beat.
“Enjoy the race?” He smiles as she pulls away, her hands joining and clapping.
“Duh! Everyone else was all boring and whatever but you did so well! Twenty seconds ahead- shit!” even though he was in the race and just had a thirty minute meeting about it, he could listen to her talk about it for hours. “And Lan, about before- I really didn’t mean to hurt you it’s just different and I don’t know why but I swear it’s not to be mean! You’re my friend and-”
“Just friend?” Lando stops her immediately.
She looks up at him, “Well… I always thought-”
“I fancy you. I have for a while.” He just spits it out, his hands on her elbows as she stares blankly at him.
She blinks, “You’re not taking the piss are you because I swear!” He kisses her then.
She’s laughing against him as he pulls her closer, touching her softly and savoring it.
“I like you too.” She blushes. “And fuck you for not telling me sooner!”
He scoffs, “You could have as well! Plus you’re so damn mysterious I couldn’t tell if I should be flattered at your yelling or scared.”
She laughs, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his chest.
He puts his arms around her, his heart beating rapidly, “If you touch your friends like that then i’m damn excited to see how you treat your boyfriend.”
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hoshifighting · 3 days
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i’m not even going anon for this because i have NO SHAME for what i am about to ask
i can’t stop thinking about gamer woo… and better yet i can’t stop thinking about what sucking him off under his desk would be like while he’s playing.. 🫠
so lyla i am asking you to PLSSSS write something smutty about gamer!woo if you would be so kind 🥲☝🏻 just sumn about getting him hot and bothered and distracted while he’s gaming (& trying not to stutter and moan into his mic) has me going absolutely bonkers
i know i can trust u with this
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giving gamer!wonwoo blowjob as he plays WARNINGS: smut, semi-public sex, blowjob, cum eating, mentions of body fluids (spit/cum)
you’re crouched under wonwoo’s desk, back pressed awkwardly against the leg of his chair, knees scraping the hard floor as you breathe out a quiet laugh. the low hum of his voice drifts from above, a steady stream of half-bored conversation with his teammates. there’s something about the way he talks when he’s gaming—always little impatient. his fingers click furiously over the keys, and his jaw clenches when something doesn’t go his way. it makes him feel untouchable.
and you’ve made it your personal mission to fuck with that.
“fuckin’ idiots, just push left,” he mutters, eyes fixed on the screen, completely oblivious to the fact that your hands are already sneaking up his thighs, fingers teasing at the waistband of his joggers. you feel him tense, the sudden shift of his body as your nails drag lightly against his skin, just under the fabric. his focus doesn’t break, though, not yet.
you grin.
“yah—keep up with the heals, come on,” he snaps, trying to maintain some kind of composure, but you hear the slight hitch in his breath when your fingers dip lower.
“what the fuck are you doing?” he mutters breathless, but the mic isn’t muted, and the noise from his teammates drowns it out.
you don’t answer. instead, you tug his joggers down just enough to free him, your fingers wrapping around his half-hard cock, feeling him twitch in your hand. it’s satisfying, the way his body reacts before his mind even catches up. you hear his breath stutter, like he’s trying to keep the sounds inside, trying to keep some shred of control.
“mmph—yeah, yeah, just push, we can still win this,” he’s saying to the team, voice tight, and you almost feel bad for him. almost.
but then you lean in, let your tongue drag along his length, slow and wet, and you feel him jolt in his chair, his hand gripping the edge of the desk like it’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
“fuck,” he whispers, quieter this time, more for you than the game.
you smile against his skin, lips brushing over the sensitive head, and then you take him into your mouth, slowly, savoring the way his thighs tremble under your hands, the way his breath catches in his throat.
“w-wait—shit,” he stammers, and you hear the faint confusion from his teammates on the other end of the mic. you’d laugh if your mouth wasn’t full, if you weren’t so focused on making him lose his mind.
his hands are gripping the desk so hard now, knuckles white, his hips twitching involuntarily as you work your tongue along his length, hollowing your cheeks, sucking just hard enough to make him curse under his breath.
“wonwoo, you... good? you’re like…really quiet, man.”
he doesn’t respond right away, too busy biting his lip, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to keep it together. it’s almost pathetic how hard he’s trying not to break.
“yeah,” he finally grits out, voice strained, “i’m fine. just—focus on the game.”
you chuckle around his cock, the vibrations making him hiss through his teeth, his hips bucking up slightly into your mouth. you let him, taking him deeper, tongue swirling around the head every time you pull back, slow, teasing, like you’ve got all the time in the world to make him come inside your mouth.
“i swear to god, if you don’t stop—” he starts, but the threat dies in his throat when you hum again, pressing him deeper into your mouth, watching his hand fly to his headset, muting his mic with a shaky breath.
he sets the headset aside with a hasty clatter, both of his hands moving down to grab fistfuls of your hair. you feel the shift immediately—the control he’s trying to take back, the dominance that flares up when you push him too far. his fingers are rough as they tangle at the roots, pulling you just enough to make your scalp tingle, but not enough to hurt. you groan at the pressure, letting him guide your head, and that seems to light something inside him. his hips roll up into your mouth, savoring the feeling of your lips wrapped around him.
the chair squeaks under his shifting weight, the soft creak of it barely audible over the wet sounds of your mouth working him over. you’re drooling now, the spit gathering at the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin, resting on his crotch, but you don’t care—you know how much it gets to him when you make it
you glance up at him, eyes rolling back, letting your expression go slack and fucked out—just like he loves it, and that’s when you hear it—his sharp intake of breath, the way he swears under it. it’s like he’s trying so hard to be a strong soldier, but you know him, know that look in his eyes.
“fuck—” he groans, his hips bucking up harder into your mouth, his fingers twisting tighter in your hair, practically holding you in place as he starts moving faster, forcing you to take him deeper.
your hands grip his thighs for balance, feeling the tense muscles under your fingers, the way his body is so close to snapping. every move unraveling as his thrusts get more desperate, more reckless. the squeak of the chair is constant now, a chaotic rhythm that matches the way he’s fucking your mouth, the sound punctuated by his shaky breaths and low curses.
“shit—you’re too fucking good at this,” he pants, eyes wwild as he stares down at you, his voice almost whiny, “look at you, drooling all over me…fuckin’ filthy.”
you moan around him, the sound muffled but still loud enough to vibrate through him, and he jerks, hips stuttering as he struggles to hold back. his grip on your hair tightens, and for a moment, you think he’s going to let go, let himself come in your mouth—but he doesn’t.
instead, he pulls you off him suddenly, your lips slick with spit and precum, and your breath comes in short gasps. before you can even question it, his hand wraps around his own cock, slick with everything you’ve left behind, and he starts stroking himself fast, the way he likes it.
his other hand grips the back of your head, holding you close, forcing you to watch as he jerks himself off right in front of you, his breath coming out in rough pants, the muscles in his arm flexing with every stroke. you can’t help but let your tongue dart out, licking at the head every time his hand moves down, teasing him.
“gonna cum, fuck—gonna cum all over your pretty fucking face,” he growls, his voice desperate. you open your mouth wide, tongue out, eyes locked on his, and the sight of you like that, so eager for him, makes him roll your eyes.
he groans loudly, his whole body shaking as he spills across your face, thick ropes of cum splattering over your lips, your tongue, your chin. you swallow what you can, but the rest drips down, mixing with the mess already on your skin. his hand keeps stroking, milking out every last drop, until he’s twitching from oversensitivity, his breathing ragged.
he watches you for a moment, panting, chest heaving, and then—without a word—he leans down, his thumb swiping across your chin, gathering the cum that dripped there, and pushes it back into your mouth.
“swallow it all, baby,” he says, and you do, your tongue curling around his thumb as you swallow everything he’s given u.
he smirks, pulling you up by the hair and pressing a lazy, messy kiss to your lips, his cum still lingering on both your tongues. when he finally pulls back, he looks at you like you’ve just become his favorite fucking person in the world.
“next time,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear, “i’m fucking you on the chair.”
you grin, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb.
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jarofstyles · 19 hours
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Appetency
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Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕
Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings
Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.
WC- 8.5k
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“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.
Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 
Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"
“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”
"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 
His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."
“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 
“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”
Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 
“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.
“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 
Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 
Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.
"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"
The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 
Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 
Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 
He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 
It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.
Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.
"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.
“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “
The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.
He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."
“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.
Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"
His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.
“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 
Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 
Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.
"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 
He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.
"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."
“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 
She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.
Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.
“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”
Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."
“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.
Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 
That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 
He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”
"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"
Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”
“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”
Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 
"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.
The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.
Aka, spending time with her. 
“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”
The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."
Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 
He’d learn eventually.
“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”
Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."
Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 
“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 
The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.
Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.
Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 
"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.
Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 
“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”
Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.
“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”
"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."
Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 
Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 
"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."
——-
Y/N was suspicious. 
Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.
Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 
“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”
"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 
He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.
“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”
Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.
“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 
Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.
Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 
Good thing he was willing to work for this. 
"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."
Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.
He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 
"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”
Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 
Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.
Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”
Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 
The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 
She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.
Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 
He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 
Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”
Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 
"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 
With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.
“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.
Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 
"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."
“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”
Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 
He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."
Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 
"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."
It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 
Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 
It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 
It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 
“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”
Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 
He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.
The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.
"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."
She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 
“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”
Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 
He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."
“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”
Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 
“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.
“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”
Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.
He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 
He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”
“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.
Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."
Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.
“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”
Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”
He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”
——-
—— 
Harry was coming over again. 
It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 
One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 
That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.
His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 
She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 
He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.
Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 
He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 
“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.
Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”
Like clockwork.
Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..
When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 
“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.
Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.
Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..
“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 
Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 
Or that she didn’t have those same urges.
Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.
“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 
Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”
Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 
Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.
Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 
“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.
Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 
"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"
“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 
Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.
"Can I stay over tonight?"
It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 
“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.
Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.
He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"
He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 
“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”
Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"
“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 
It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 
“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”
Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 
He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."
“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.
"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 
Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”
Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.
"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.
“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”
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ohbueckers · 3 days
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SUIT & TIE. all pressed up in black and white, and you’re dressed in that dress i like. love is swinging in the air tonight, let me show you a few things.
ONE-SHOT! pairing, paige bueckers x reader. notes, another request i got done in ample timing because i’ve been procrastinating the last two parts of what’s my name real bad LMFAOOO enjoy! @patscorner @thaatdigitaldiary thanks baes i needed an excuse to use this picture… warnings, sexual content.
you’re standing near the grand entrance of gala, lingering behind as your parents moved effortlessly through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting guests. you’d been to many of these events for their business, and yet you always seemed to dissociate. you glance down at the dress you’re wearing—your girlfriend’s choice, of course. it fits you like a glove, the deep color standing out in a sea of black and white. paige had insisted on it, and you’d given in because the way she looks at you in it is worth every second of doubt you’d had when she first showed it to you.
but paige was late. again.
your dad walks up to you, a smug smirk on his face as he sinks his hands deeper into his pockets. “she’ll be here. follow us in,” it was like he could read your mind as he throws his head in one direction, which you figure is the main hall where the night is supposed to start. his arm extends, offering for you to take it, and after a brief pause, you do, rolling your eyes with a half-smile before threading your arm through his.
she had promised to be here after the nike event, swearing she’d make it before the night really started. you understood; between interviews, sponsorships, basketball commitments—she’s been pulled in every direction, and truthfully, you couldn’t be prouder of her. her fame had skyrocketed this past year, and it was safe to say she was booked and busy. in the world of paige bueckers, this all came with the territory.
but tonight, you need her here. it’s your parents’ night, the business gala they’ve been planning for months, and you were happy the location had aligned with her schedule. as much as you’ve gotten used to being the one waiting for paige, there’s something about this evening that’s different. maybe it’s the nerves of being around all these people, or maybe it’s the way you can’t stop checking your phone, hoping for an update.
the minutes crawl by slower than they should, your eyes flitting across the room, searching the crowd for a glimpse of white. as your fingers tap nervously against the side of your glass. the crowd blurs together—tuxedos, dresses, champagne flutes clinking—but no sign of her yet.
just as you think about actually socializing with other people, your demeanor probably giving uninterested to anyone who thought about it, the doors part, and she walks in, all legs and confidence as she shoots that smile at everyone. for a second, you think you’ve imagined her, that your mind has conjured her up to calm your nerves. but no. she’s here.
and she looks damn good.
your heart rate picks up as she clocks you from across the room, that familiar smirk pulling at her lips when she sees you staring. she knows the effect she has on you, on everyone, and she’s not shy about it.
when she finally reaches you, standing just close enough, her voice is low, intimate as she wraps her hand around your hip, and she says, “told you i’d make it, didn’t i?” paige has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. always.
you swallow, glancing at her shoes—a pair of nike’s that she’d probably worn for the shoot. of course, she’d forget to change them after the event. “you were so close to pulling this off,” you tease, nodding toward her feet. “really would’ve had me if you ditched the kicks.”
she glances down, a mock look of realization spreading across her face. “ahh, i knew i was missin’ somethin’. but honestly? i think they make the fit.”
you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile spreading across your lips. “only you would wear sneakers to a business gala.”
she leans in, smirking smugly, her breath warm against your ear as she murmurs, “and only you could make me wanna skip this whole thing.”
your stomach flips, heat rising in your face at the way her voice drops to a dangerous level. her fingers are still gripping your waist like her life depends on it, just a subtle touch, but enough. you should be mingling, keeping up appearances for your parents, but right now? all you can think about is the way paige is looking at you, like she’s already undressing you with her eyes.
she pulls back, just enough to let her eyes trail over your dress—her dress. the one she picked out specifically because, in her words, “i know what looks good on you better than you do.”
she was right.
“you’re killin’ me, you know that?” she mutters, fingers tracing the delicate fabric of the material.
you raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your best formal composure. “i could say the same about you. what’s with the tie?” your hand moves up instinctively, fingers brushing over it. it’s tucked neatly into her white vest, and you’re well-aware of how comfortable you both look right now.
paige’s grin is slow, knowing. “you’ve never seen me like this before, huh?”
you shake your head, licking your lips as you take her in. “no. and i wasn’t prepared. when do those pics come out again?” you’re serious enough to want to commit this image to memory, knowing that the suit, the tie, the whole ensemble might be your new favorite thing.
before paige can respond, you spot movement out of the corner of your eye—your parents approaching. you practically leap out of each other’s arms, standing a little straighter as they stroll over. you felt like two kids in highschool getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to, despite being full-grown adults.
your dad gives a pointed glance between you and paige, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “well, isn’t this a sight?” he says with an undercurrent of teasing that only a parent could manage. “glad you could make it, paige.”
paige flashes her most polite smile, but there’s a faint blush creeping up her neck, spreading to her cheeks. “wouldn’t miss it,” she says, her voice softer and less full of the usual slang she’d use. she’s met your parents plenty of times before, but something about the way they’re looking at the two of you now, has her just a little shy.
your mom steps in, her own smile warm as she subtly nudges paige’s arm. “best behavior, okay?”
you watch paige turn a shade darker, chuckling as the confidence she walked in with slipped just slightly. she clears her throat, glancing down at her shoes before looking back up, all politeness. “of course. i’m on my best behavior.” who was she convincing?
you try to stifle a laugh at the sight of her—paige bueckers, who commands attention on the court and off, suddenly looking bashful under your parents’ orders. you’re not sure you’ve ever seen her like this, and honestly, it’s a little endearing.
your dad claps a hand on her shoulder, steering you both back to the crowd. “let’s get back to mingling. it’s almost time for the toast.”
the night continues, your parents dragging you from one conversation to the next, making you play the part of the dutiful daughter while paige keeps her distance, blending in with the crowd. well, almost. on her journey to becoming a household-known name, she had been stopped for pictures a few times. you catch glimpses of her every now and then, your eyes meeting across the ballroom, and each time, she gives you that same teasing look. you were glad she was here even if you couldn’t spend most of the night together.
then comes the toast, your father standing up to say a few words while the room quiets down, champagne glasses raised high. you’re only half paying attention, focus drifting back to paige like it had been the entire night, who’s already watching you from across the room. she doesn’t need to say anything, but the look she gives you is clear as day—a tilt of her head toward the hallway, her fingers brushing against her tie, sending a message that makes you wonder what her plan is.
meet me in the bathroom.
as your dad finishes up his speech, you wait a few seconds before you excuse yourself from the room, sure not to make anything look too suspicious, although your parents knew you and paige well-enough by now.
the noise of the gala fades as you move deeper into the hallway, the plush carpet beneath your heels muffling your steps. paige is waiting for you just outside the family bathroom, her back leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, but there’s nothing casual about the way she’s eyeing you up and down when she sees you approaching.
“you lookin’ real fine right now,” paige says, her voice low, a little rougher than usual. she brings her hands up, rubbing them together as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, smiling through it. “almost didn’t recognize you for a second.”
you smirk, stepping closer, as you swat her hands down, sick of those stupid rizz hands, although it always worked.. “oh, put it down!”
paige laughs, pushing off the wall and opening the bathroom door for you. “c’mon. lemme show you something real quick.”
you step inside without hesitation, the door clicking softly behind you, and in an instant, she’s on you. her hands grip your waist, pushing you back against the door, your ass a cushion against the hard surface. and before you can react, her lips crash against yours. it’s hungry, needy, because paige can quite frankly never get enough of you.
her body presses into yours, and you whimper into her mouth, manicured nails sliding around her neck, tugging her closer. “paige,” you murmur against her lips, but that only spurs her on.
she breaks away just enough to flash you a grin, her breath hot against your skin. “what? you don’t wanna?”
you laugh, the sound breathless as she moves her lips to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin in a way that makes your knees weak. “i didn’t think we’d be sneaking around at a gala,” you manage to say between gasps.
paige pulls back slightly again, her eyes locking onto yours, head slightly tilted down due to your height. “it’s not sneaking if they don’t catch us,” she reasons, and you suppose she’s right, but there was also no way you’d say no to her right now when she’s looking like that.
you smile, and her hands slide further around your waist. “c’mere.” she bites her lip, reaching for your wrist as she pulls you toward the sink, spinning you around so your back hits the counter. she hoists you up, and you don’t even have much time to process it before she’s on you again, lips finding yours as she slips her knee between your legs, parting them for her next move.
her hands begin gathering up the fabric of your dress, inch by inch. her fingers trail over your thighs, touch giving you goosebumps, and all you can do is breathe her in as she finally pushes it all the way up so it’s scrunched up at your hips.
she pulls away, lips pink and glossy. “you good?” she whispers.
you nod, barely able to speak as her hands explore you, fingers sliding slowly between your thighs, stroking your skin. “yeah.”
it’s all she needs, really. paige drops to her knees, maintaining eye contact as she positions herself between your legs. the sight of her down there should be framed. it has your pulse racing in all the right ways, and you can barely stand it.
she hooks her fingers around your panties, tugging them down like she’s done a million times before, because she has, and you stare at her with all the awe in the world as she pulls you to the edge of the counter. in an instant, her mouth is on you. you didn’t have much time, and the blonde didn’t plan on wasting it. the first flick of her tongue is slow, deliberate, like she’s savoring you, and one of your hands fly to the sink, gripping it for balance as a strangled gasp escapes your lips.
the other hand instinctively reaches to untuck her tie, pulling on it as the movement brings her closer. she smiles, teeth and all against your clit as she glances up, knowing how much you’re enjoying this. she brings your thighs over her shoulders, grip more rough now as she uses them as handles, having you in the exact position she’d pictured.
the sight of her there, all white suit and tie and sharp eyes, makes your breath catch in your throat. her tongue presses flat against you a few times, switching up the pleasure in a way that keeps you on your toes everytime.
you tug on her tie again, harder this time, making her groan into you, and you feel every bit of it. you can’t help it—the way she looks, the way she feels between your legs, it’s all too much. your back arches as you grind against her mouth, your thighs squeezing around her shoulders as the pleasure builds higher and higher.
“paige, please,” you breathe, your voice almost desperate. it’s a plea, but also a challenge, because you know she’s only going to push you further.
she smirks. “not going anywhere, baby. want more of me?”
she didn’t wait for an answer as she removed one of her hands from your thigh, pulling back just enough to see where her fingers were going. right into you, index and middle disappearing, the slight cold sensation of her rings at the base making your jaw drop lower, to the floor if possible.
luckily, you and paige have had sex in a few public places by now that you’d learned how to keep quiet. but right now, she wanted to hear you more than anything. needed to.
“lemme hear that mouth, too. don’t hold back.” and she meant it, head dipping between your legs once again as she got back to work, fingers moving at the same speed as her tongue.
“paige…” you breathe, practically squirming as you screw your eyes shut, unable to contain the whimper that escapes. the thrill of being caught, anyone knocking on that door, or worse, actually getting in, only heightens the sensation. “i can’t—”
“good,” she replies, the teasing lilt in her voice making you moan.
with every lick and thrust, she drives you closer to the edge, and you find yourself losing all sense of time and place, wrapped up in the moment with her. your fingers are still tugging tightly on that tie, and you’re sure this is the closest she’s ever been to your cunt, the closest she could possibly be.
you’re barely holding on, body trembling, legs wanting to close as the pleasure only builds, but paige doesn’t let up. she keeps going, curling her fingers up inside you, mouth moving faster, more insistent. your head falls against the mirror, and you can’t stop the soft, desperate sounds escaping your lips as you come undone without much warning. the sounds were enough.
paige doesn’t stop, not even when she’s sure your body has had enough, and your breath comes out in ragged gasps. she keeps her mouth on you, drawing out every last bit come until you’re spent, legs shaking around her shoulders.
when she finally pulls back, her lips are swollen, and there’s a smug, satisfied grin on her face as she runs her tongue over her top lip. she doesn’t say anything, but she stands up, pulling up your panties with her, making sure they hold every bit of the result she’d given you for the rest of the night. uncomfortable, but you didn’t have much of a choice.
and it’d give the blonde a present for when they’d get pulled down again later.
you’re still catching your breath, your fingers loosening from around her now shriveled tie. paige looks at you as if she’s just won a championship, glancing down at her chest as she tries to smooth out the tie, tucking it back in her vest. “good as new,” she mumbles.
you laugh, breathless, shaking your head as you tug her back into you, pulling her in for a kiss. “shut up,” you murmur against her lips, tasting yourself on her tongue.
but before you can say anything more, she pulls back, her grin widening as she whispers, “round two at the hotel?”
you’ll never be able to look at her in a suit the same way again.
507 notes · View notes
suguwu · 2 days
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WOULD THAT I: PROLOGUE
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The Gojo boy doesn't have a soulmate.
When you're both children, you overhear him being referred to as inhuman, between his power and his lack of a mark. The next time you see him, you use a marker to write your name on his skin, too young to understand what it means.
You forget, but Gojo—
Gojo never does.
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MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.
masterlist
pairing: gn!reader x gojo
wc: 2.6k
notes: thank you to my beta, as always! especially for putting up with my bratty ass and reading this early so i could post it earlier. this has been a fun fic to get started and i hope you enjoy the prologue!
content warnings: none. see masterlist for series content warnings.
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The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate.
You don’t think you’re supposed to know; it’s only ever talked about in hushed voices. The clans all speak like that, sometimes, each word a butterfly’s wing as it flutters from their mouths.
The servants, however, are louder.
One of them has a voice like a lark, a sweet, trilling song. It carries. You learn to hear her coming, to recognize her shadow against the shoji. You know the edges of her by heart. Sometimes she spreads her arms out as she makes her way through the hallway; her kimono sleeves flare out behind her like wings. 
“There’s something wrong with the Gojo heir,” she sings one afternoon, her fluting voice half-muffled by the shoji. “Those eyes of his—it’s like he can see right through you. And Fujioka says he doesn’t have a soulmark.” 
Another servant hushes her. “Don’t gossip,” she chides. 
“It’s true, though!”
“That doesn’t mean you should repeat it.” 
She huffs, grumbling something too soft for you to hear anything aside from the melody of it. The other servant laughs quietly before chivvying her forward. You watch until their shadows disappear, leaving only the hallway light to filter golden through the shoji. 
You return to your coloring book.
The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate, but that doesn’t mean anything to you.
Not yet. 
There’s a boy in the courtyard.
He’s hopping from stone to stone in the koi pond, his snow-white hair glittering under the morning sun. He moves like a dancer, each step sure and swift, never once slipping on the wet rock. When he gets to the biggest rock in the pond, he crouches down, his back to you, and drags his fingers over the surface of the water. The koi rise to meet him, firework scales flashing in the sun. 
You watch him from the engawa, peeking out at him from behind one of the columns. You’ve never seen him before, and you’d remember him, with his starlight hair. 
“Who’re you?” he asks, not turning around.
You stay quiet.
“I know you’re there,” he says. “You can’t hide from me.”
He glances over his shoulder and the world goes blue.
It’s the cold burn of a comet’s tail streaking through the velvet night. It’s oceantide, relentless and unyielding. It’s a slice of the sky brought down to earth, heaven devoured.
Then he blinks, and he’s just a boy again. 
“Who’re you?” you ask, stepping to the edge of the engawa. 
He lifts his chin. “I asked you first.”
You introduce yourself the way your mother taught you, bowing to him shallowly. 
He scoffs. “You’re not even from the main clan.”
“Are you?”
“I’m not part of your stupid clan.”
“Oh.”
He stares at you, his crystalline eyes sharp-edged, all prismatic ice. “You don’t know who I am?”
“Nope.”
He rises to his full height, unfolding like an elegant crane. “I’m Gojo Satoru.” 
You tilt your head. The servants’ humming gossip made the Gojo heir sound ethereal, a fallen star that had burned away into human form as it plummeted through the heavens. His eyes are otherworldly, and you can feel the power rippling out from his lean form, as unstoppable as the tides, but—
“You’re just a boy,” you say. 
He scowls. “Am not.”
“Are too.” 
“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says again, deeper this time, an intonation, a promise, a curse. His eyes flash, St. Elmo’s fire, a lightning strike of blue. “I have the Limitless and the Six Eyes. I’m not just a boy.”
You would believe him, but the last bit sounded more sulky than anything else. You’re about to tell him so when someone calls your name. You glance over your shoulder, but there are no shadows against the shoji yet.
When you turn back around, there are wet patches shining on the stones in the koi pond, an imprint of the past, but nothing else.
The Gojo boy is gone.
Your mother is hovering. 
She smooths down your yukata, chasing creases from the thin cotton with trembling hands. There hadn’t been time to change; she’d pulled you out of your lessons and hurried you down the hallways of the estate. 
“Bow low when you meet him,” she tells you, though she hasn’t bothered to tell you who ‘he’ is. “Understand?”
You nod. 
There’s a fine layer of sweat gleaming at your mother’s nape as she kneels before the shoji. She reaches out to open it; her kimono sleeve slips down, revealing the elegant curve of her wrist. You focus there instead of the opening shoji, the slow slide of it a hissing snake, coiled to bite.
The shoji clicks, a chime of teeth, its maw wide open. You take in a deep breath and step through, your gaze on the tatami mats. Someone shifts.
“Oh, it’s you.”
You glance up, directly into the gaze of Gojo Satoru. His eyes are as otherworldly as you remember, a crisp, clear blue framed in long lashes, like a snowy-edged mountain lake. He tilts his head as you gape, his hair gleaming bone-white in the sun streaming through the open shoji. 
You blink. “What’re you doing here?” you ask, and next to you, your mother hisses in a low, sharp breath. 
Gojo shrugs. “Dunno. The clan said I had to come and they caught me when I snuck out.”
The woman behind Gojo clears her throat. “Gojo-sama,” she says, her voice like the shivering leaves when the summer breeze stirs to life, “they’re a candidate for you to train with.” 
He eyes you. “Why?” he asks. “They’re not very strong.”
“Hey!” 
“You aren’t, though,” he says. “I can tell.”
You throw yourself at him.
His eyes widen, a devouring sea, and he grunts as you make impact. He’s sturdier than you thought; he’s slight, but it’s all lean muscle, even though he can’t be much older than you are. Your mother calls out your name, horrified, but Gojo is already recovering, grappling with you for control. 
By the time the adults pull you apart, Gojo is nursing a rapidly-purpling mark high on his cheekbone. Your split lip aches; you tongue at it and wince. You can taste blood, sour and metallic. You glare at Gojo even as your mother bows deeply to the woman.
“My deepest apologies,” she says, tightening her grip on the sleeve of your yukata and forcing you to bow with her. “I don’t know what came over them.”
The woman clicks her tongue. “The child should be punished,” she says, and your mother stiffens. “I would suggest—”
“No.” 
Everyone looks at Gojo. He thumbs at a rip in his kimono, grinning widely. It bares his teeth. 
“I’ll train with them,” he says.
“Gojo-sama—”
“I said I’d train with them. Now can we go? I want a popsicle.” 
The woman sighs. “Yes, Gojo-sama.” 
Gojo sweeps by you and your mother. He pauses right next to you. “You’re weak,” he tells you, ignoring the way you bristle, “but at least you’re fun.”  
He’s out the shoji before you can respond.
Summer settles over Kyoto, a wet lick of heat. Even the wind seems to feel it; it ripples honey-slow through the trees, barely strong enough to stir the air. Frogs move into the koi pond in the courtyard; they sing along with the cicadas’ sawing choir. 
“Catch it!” Gojo shouts as your hands spear through the murky pond water. It gushes free from between your fingers as you come up empty-handed, the frog you were aiming for frantically disappearing further below the surface. “You’re so slow.”
“Am not!”
“Are too,” he counters, holding out his cupped hands. A plaintive ribbit sounds out from between them. “I already caught one. It was easy.”
“You’re annoying.”
He stares at you, his blue eyes icy. “You’re annoying.”  
“You’re the one who came over.”
He rolls his eyes. “We train at your estate.”
“How come?”
“How come what?”
“How come we train here? Your estate is probably better.”
He shrugs, opening his hands enough to peer down at the frog. It glistens in the sunlight, the same deep green as the lush courtyard. It makes a break for freedom; he closes his hands again, his long fingers sewing the gap shut. “I like it better here.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Why?”
“I just do,” he says, voice flat.
You don’t ask again.
“Why are we here?”
Gojo blinks, his long white lashes sweeping over the sweet curve of his cheek. “Why are you whispering?”
Your cheeks heat. The Gojo estate is a sprawling, massive maw; you’ve felt devoured ever since you set foot in it. Even the golden light that slants through the shoji feels cold. There are ikebana arrangements lining the halls, the leggy, deep purple irises sculptural as they rise proudly from the vases, but it still feels like a mausoleum. 
“We’ve just never trained here before,” you say, taking care to use your regular voice. “So why are we here now?”
He shrugs. “They insisted.”
“Who?”
He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, his long pianist’s fingers cutting through the air. You roll your eyes, long used to his occasionally imperious ways. The two of you continue along the hallways, you trailing after him closely, as if caught in his gravity, an orbiting moon. 
You almost run into him when he comes to a sudden halt. You peek around him—in the last few months, he’s gone through a growth spurt, one that your mother says will come when you’re his age, and he’s too tall to peer over his shoulder—and see a servant bowing low, her ebony hair glinting.
“Gojo-sama,” she says. “Please follow me. The elders are waiting.”
He sighs, a dramatic heave of his chest. “What do they want?”
“They didn’t specify.”
“Ugh.”
“Gojo-sama—”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says. “Go tell those geezers I’ll be there soon.” 
You wince right along with the servant. Gojo’s disdain for the elders is not new, but it still unnerves you every time, as if they will come along and smite you down. 
“C’mon,” Gojo says to you. “Let’s get it over with.”
The servant clears her throat. “Only you, Gojo-sama.”
He glares, his blue eyes burning, a comet streaking through the sky. “No,” he says. “They’re coming.”
“They cannot.”
“I said they’re coming.” 
“It’s okay,” you tell him, eyes wide. “Really.” 
Gojo looks back at you. For a second, his mouth is a wound, tender and pink, but in the next breath, it’s gone, frozen under a layer of ice.
“Fine.” 
You bite your lip, but he’s already walking away. You catch yourself before you reach for him. He disappears down the hallway, his hair glinting like exposed bone.
The servant turns to you. “This way,” she says, her voice perfectly neutral.
You follow her to an empty room; she slides the shoji shut behind herself as you settle onto the cushion at the chabudai. You gaze around the room. There’s not much to take in; it’s wealthy in a subdued way. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve and then get to your feet.
You slide open the shoji leading out to the engawa; it opens onto a huge, lush courtyard. The plush flowers are weighted down by their own blooms, their stems curving like a dancer’s back. A shishi-odoshi rings out with a hollow thud; a few songbirds scatter, their wings rustling like leaves as they soar towards the sky. 
You step out onto the engawa. It’s still early enough that the sun slants onto the wood, warming it. You sit down and bask in it, tilting your face up for the sun’s sweet kiss. You lay back, your eyes fluttering shut.
A voice wakes you.
“He’s an insolent brat!” a man hisses. “He needs to be taken in hand!”
“He’s too powerful,” another man answers. His voice is calm, but you can sense the ripples in it, the thing lurking underneath. “We can only do what we’re already doing.”
You go still. They can only be talking about Gojo. Their footsteps echo; they’re drawing closer and closer.
“It’s not enough.” 
“He’s still young. Maybe we can mold him.” 
The first man snorts. “You don’t believe that.”
“No, I don’t.” 
“There’s something wrong with that boy,” the first man says. “Those eyes—that power—and not even a hint of a mark. He’s barely human.”
Their footsteps are starting to fade; their voices become murmurs. But you still hear it when the second man says:
“I don’t think he’s human at all.”
Then they’re gone, fading from your world like malevolent spirits, dissipating on the wind. You unclench your fists and find that your nails have bitten into your skin, little half-moon curves cutting through the leylines of your palms. 
Gojo shows up a mere minute later. He slides open the shoji with a bang; his eyes find you immediately. 
“C’mon,” he says, stepping out into the courtyard. His eyes are shadowed; his lips are pulled tight, an unstitched wound. He’s heard them, you realize. You’ve never seen him bothered by other people’s opinions; your chest aches, a pressed bruise. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words. 
He grabs your hand as he passes by you, tugging you along behind him, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Let’s go before those stupid geezers find me again.” 
“Where are we going?”
“Away from here.”
“But my shoes—”
He glances back at you and you drown in blue. 
“Okay,” you say quietly. “Let’s go.” 
He doesn’t answer; he just tugs you along. You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to make sense of the expression you’d seen flash across his face before he’d turned around again. You can’t understand it, but you know one thing.
He’s never looked more human to you.
The next time you see him, you’re prepared.
You uncap the marker with your teeth. You reach out for Gojo’s arm; he pulls away before you can grab hold, as quick as a darting fish. 
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Give me your arm.” 
“Why?”
“You’ll see.” 
He eyes you for a moment, but gives you his arm.
You push up his yukata sleeve to expose the tender underbelly of his wrist. You start to write, laboring over each stroke of the marker, keeping it as neat as you can. The silver ink covers the rivers of his blue-green veins as it sinks into his skin, a childish tattoo. 
“There,” you say, finishing with a somewhat-shaky flourish. “Now you have a mark.”
Gojo stares at you, his cerulean gaze lit from within, the sea beneath the sun. He covers the katakana of your name with his free hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying characters. Under the shadow, they fade to gray, but they still glint and glimmer the same way real soulmarks do. 
You hum, pleased with yourself, cap the marker, and toss it to the side so you can start training. 
You don’t know it yet, but it’s your last session with him. He disappears into the dawn like a fading star, spirited off to Tokyo to continue his training. You’ve only spent six months with him. Still, it aches, a pressed bruise, but you’ve always known he would outgrow you; his power is a black hole, always devouring. 
Life, ever unmoved, continues on. 
The boy you knew fades from your memories, though you never forget him. It’s impossible, with the stories that come out of Tokyo, how he completes missions that no one his age should be able to handle. 
Still, you forget things. The tilt of his mouth; the cadence of his voice. He becomes a shadow of himself, a shade with burning blue eyes. 
You forget that you once wrote your name on the delicate inside of his wrist. 
Gojo, though—
Gojo never does.
502 notes · View notes
gguk-n · 1 day
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Fading Shadow (Lando Norris x ex-Reader)
Part 2 of Last Straw Inspired by this request
Summary- Y/N moved on. Lando is still stuck, on what they had and what he lost.
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{Reader's POV}
The moment I landed back home, I felt relief wash over me when I cried in my mother's arms. I had been holding on to too much, it seems. My father brought my favourite food and we ate together and we laughed together. This was the therapy I needed. My siblings weren't very happy with Lando since they had seen everything unfold on social media but they were happy to have their sister back. I was happy to be back home. I needed this, I needed my people.
I decided I needed a change of pace, a change of scenery. I had been mourning my relationship while I was still in it. Now, I was a new me, I was going to do everything I wanted.
I applied at the company I always wanted to work at but due to there being no vacancies I was assigned a job in a different country and I was ready to take on the world. I knew Lando would never search for me, he never truly loved me but I still wanted to leave. I needed a fresh start.
{Lando's POV}
The silence after the break up was exactly what I needed, or so I thought. I could leave as I wished. I could go out whenever I wanted. I didn't have to explain myself to anyone. It's so much better to be single then to be tied down.
I didn't think I would ever miss Y/N, but I did. I remember exactly when I missed her for the first time; it was after a difficult race and I had finish decently with the shitty cards I had and I just wanted someone to tell me how well I did; but there was no one; no one who knew what I wanted to hear. I felt so alone even when I was surrounded by hundreds of people for the first time in a long time.
The second time I missed her was when I was stood on top of the top step of the podium. I wanted to have her around so I could share my highs with her. I didn't get a 'do you wanna go out to celebrate?' like the last two times and I aired her both time to party with random girls. Right now, I was in the club celebrating my third win of my career and season and I felt empty and alone. Not even the alcohol helped.
The house we lived in was a stark reminder of the time we spent together. All our dates we had. All the times she would teach me how to cook but we would always end up with a big mess and half cooked or burnt food since I would get distracted. In retrospect, I loved every second of it even though I never admitted it then. I love all the time we spent together or the laugh she would emit when I messed up. I missed her and I wish she was here; I was too stupid to admit it then but I do now.
Oscar was getting sick and tired of me using his phone to check on Y/N's social media accounts since she had blocked me every where. I would end up borrowing the other driver's phone to check, just in case. Until one day, her account stopped showing up for Oscar too. I went through almost everyone on the paddock's phone to see if she had blocked my friends. Turns out, she had deactivated her social media accounts; I realised that after one of the gossip pages posted about her deactivating her profiles, across all the platforms.
I would wake up from dreams about her and I would fall asleep to the thought of her. No woman interested me anymore; I wish I was this loyal when we were dating, when she could see that I loved her, not now when she couldn't even see I had changed.
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My PR team was losing their shit when I tweeted that. I had to sit through a stupid meeting after everything. It was miracle I didn't start crying in the middle of the meeting.
People had started to notice I guess, since Carlos approached me. "Cabron, what's up?" he asked while I was lying on my couch after media day. "Nothing" I hummed. "I fucked up right?" I asked. "I can't say no" Carlos said. I laughed painfully. "I didn't know how good I had it until it was all gone. I'm an ass and I deserve everything I'm getting" I cried. Carlos comforted me, hugging me tightly. "I just wish she would talk to me, at least once. So, that I could show her that I've changed. I really have Carlos. I love her so much, it hurts" I cried into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lando" he said patting my back.
There's a saying, You don't know what you've got until it's gone. I was living that nightmare and I will never stop living it.
244 notes · View notes
kayewrite · 2 days
Text
At the same time, I wanna hug you
(...I wanna wrap my hands around your neck)
seungmin x reader!! enemies to lovers troupe!! genre; fluff. word count: 10.7k (long but still not enough)
summary; if you have teleportation powers you would bring seungmin in the middle of ocean and dump him there. that's how much you hated him. but wait.. why he was suddenly cool?
an: you dont know how much i went crazy seeing seungmin in uniform! like babe! why are my classmate not like him? and.. this was a birthday present cause this man just turn half 50 minus 1!! anyways enjoy reading
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Kim Seungmin.
You hated that very name.
You hated his existence.
You hated his smirk.
You hated that he breathes.
You hated how he never failed to make your blood boil.
Like now.
You were practically crawling into the classroom, late again, knowing full well the teacher wasn’t going to let it slide this time. Slowly and quietly, you slipped through the back door, hoping to go unnoticed, but your hopes were dashed when Kim Seungmin turned in his seat and caught your eye. His face slowly morphed into that all-too-familiar smirk.
You already knew your fate.
"Ma'am, someone’s late again."
You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to punch him as the teacher ordered you to stand and endure a scolding. You stood there, bowing your head like a guilty child while Seungmin chuckled at your misery.
You hated him. You hated him so much you wished for teleportation powers—just so you could dump him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and teleport back home.
The worst part? You were seatmates. In the one subject that made you contemplate dropping the class every week just to escape him. But no, you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You’d endure, just so he wouldn’t win.
"Why were you late again?" he leaned over, asking in the most casual, condescending way possible.
“None of your business,” you rolled your eyes and shifted your chair further away from him.
“Actually, it is my business.” He smirked again, lifting the attendance sheet. “I’m in charge of marking who’s here today, and guess what? I don’t see your name yet. Got a good excuse for me?”
Damn.
You glared at him, wishing your stare could send him straight to the hospital. “I hate you.”
“Oh, I love you too,” he teased, laughing at your frustration.
--
You were minding your own business, erasing the board, when out of nowhere, a crumpled piece of paper hit you square on the head. Annoyed, you turned sharply, searching for the culprit. Your eyes quickly landed on Kim Seungmin, who very obviously averted his gaze and started whistling—like that wasn’t the biggest giveaway ever.
Glaring at him, you felt your temper rise. Without thinking twice, you grabbed the nearest weapon of choice—the chalkboard eraser—and hurled it with full force.
"Hey—!" Seungmin barely had time to react, his hands flying up to shield himself. The eraser still hit him, sending a cloud of chalk dust everywhere.
Minutes later, there he was, sitting in the clinic, sulking like he’d been gravely injured. You stood over him, arms crossed, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous situation.
“You’re such a kid,” you teased, watching as he winced dramatically. “Crying over a tiny little scratch.”
He glared at you, clutching his arm like he’d survived a battle. “Tiny? You nearly broke my arm!”
You smirked, “If I wanted to break your arm, Seungmin, I wouldn’t have used an eraser.”
You and Seungmin fought like kids, constantly bickering and annoying each other to the point where even your classmates didn’t bother stepping in anymore. They’d seen you two nearly throw punches at each other too many times to care.
One day in the cafeteria, you were finally enjoying a moment of peace, savoring your lunch, when Seungmin suddenly plopped down in front of you. He smiled, but there was something odd about it. Well, Seungmin was always odd, but this felt extra weird. He wasn’t even touching his food; he just sat there, staring at you.
"What are you looking at, ugly?" you asked, scowling.
He leaned back casually. "My friends are coming, and we're sitting at this table. It’s up to you if you wanna leave or not."
You blinked, taken aback. "What?! I got here first!"
"Yeah, well," he shrugged nonchalantly, "I don’t care."
Before you could argue further, the cafeteria exploded with noise. His friends had arrived—there was no mistaking it. They were loud, famous, and had an almost cult-like following at school. You could practically hear the high-pitched squeals from the “fandom” as they entered. Without even turning around, you knew it was them.
Your frustration mounted as they surrounded the table, chattering loudly. You weren’t exactly fond of crowds, for that matter. Sitting there, sandwiched between Seungmin and his friends, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.
Hyunjin—yes, that Hyunjin—suddenly leaned over, flashing a bright smile. "Hey, what’s your name?"
You nearly choked on your food. Of course, the universe had to pick this moment to be cruel. Before you could respond, Seungmin cut in with a smug grin.
"She’s no one. Don’t mind her," he said, not even sparing you a glance.
Your face flushed with embarrassment and annoyance. You stood up abruptly, knocking over your chair. "I’ve suddenly lost my appetite," you muttered awkwardly before storming off, desperately trying to escape the humiliation.
Why does this always happen to me? you groaned internally. I hate Seungmin. And I hate myself for embarrassing myself in front of my crush… Hyunjin.
If I see that KIM SEUNGMIN later, I’m going to kill him.
Later in class, your chance for revenge came. Seungmin was called on for an oral recitation, and—poetic justice—he stood there, stuttering and completely clueless. You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath as he floundered, finally getting a taste of the embarrassment he loved dishing out.
Justice had never tasted so sweet.
---
"I hope lightning strikes him," you muttered, glaring at Seungmin from a distance as you hugged yourself, shivering from the cold. You were stuck in a waiting shed, the afternoon bringing with it a torrential downpour that looked like the start of a typhoon. The weather had been perfect this morning—sunny, with not a cloud in sight. You'd made the mistake of leaving your umbrella at home, thinking it would only weigh down your bag. Now, you regretted every bit of that decision.
Across the street, Seungmin stood dry under his big, obnoxiously bright umbrella, almost laughing as he caught sight of you. His smug grin was practically glowing, and as if to rub salt in the wound, he waved at you.
You flipped him the finger.
‘When will his time come?’ you wondered bitterly. Why am I always the one who ends up miserable?
The shed's roof was doing a terrible job of keeping the rain out. Water dripped from all angles, splashing around you and soaking your clothes. You glanced up at the leaky ceiling and groaned. When will this stop? you thought—both about the rain and Seungmin.
If the two of you were friends, and if he weren’t the spawn of Lucifer himself, you might’ve swallowed your pride and asked to share his umbrella. Your house was literally just a block away. But no! You would not—under any circumstances—lower yourself to envy his dry, smug self.
You would never give him the satisfaction. Even if it meant sitting here the whole night, soaked and miserable.
Seungmin started walking toward you, his big umbrella swaying with each step. He stopped in front of you with the most annoyingly sarcastic smile.
"You wanna share?" he asked, eyes twinkling with amusement.
You rolled your eyes. "No thanks."
"You sure? The news said the rain’s stopping… tomorrow."
"Even if it never stops for a whole week, Kim Seungmin, I would never!" you snapped, glaring at him.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your misery. "You sure? Last chance."
"Yes!" you practically shouted, arms crossed in defiance.
"Okay." He shrugged, stepping back. "One word is enough for me."
And with that, he turned on his heel and continued on his way, leaving you alone in the rain.
"I won’t regret it!" you yelled after him, though your voice sounded far less confident than before.
Ten minutes later, you were drenched and shivering, cursing under your breath. Regret started to creep in. You glanced down the road—completely empty. Not a single taxi in sight.
"Where are all the taxis when I need them?" you groaned, looking up at the dark, stormy sky.
And so, your day ended just as it began: with Seungmin somehow managing to ruin it.
--
It was Friday, and your first class of the day happened to be the one where your seatmate was none other than him.
Determined not to be late, you arrived twenty minutes early. The classroom was nearly empty, with only a handful of students scattered around. Feeling groggy, you slumped over your desk, letting the quiet atmosphere lull you into a light nap.
Of course, peace never lasted long when Seungmin was involved.
A sharp knock on your desk pulled you from the brink of sleep. You cracked one eye open to see Seungmin settling into the seat beside you, a smug grin already plastered on his face.
"Oh, you’re early today. Were you looking forward to sitting next to me?" he teased, leaning back comfortably as if he hadn't just ruined your peaceful moment.
"It’s still early, Kim Seungmin," you muttered, closing your eyes again. Not today, you thought. You weren’t going to let him ruin your morning. Not this early.
He glanced at his watch with a chuckle. "Well, it’s 10 a.m., and that’s not exactly early, is it?"
"Seungmin, if you’re bored and looking to annoy someone, talk to my hand." Without even opening your eyes, you lazily raised your hand in his direction, palm out.
Just then, Yuna, who sat in front of you, arrived. She took one look at the two of you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Why are you guys always fighting the moment you see each other?"
You opened one eye, giving her a pleading look. "Can you please let him annoy you instead?"
Yuna just laughed. "Oh, Seungmin wouldn’t annoy anyone else but you." She gave you a knowing smile. "He likes you."
Your eyes shot open at her words, and you squinted at Seungmin, who was now smirking as if he knew exactly how to get under your skin. "Yeah, likes to annoy me," you huffed, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.
Seungmin shrugged, leaning in a little closer just to provoke you. "Well, yeah, I like it sooo much," he laughed, clearly amused by your reaction.
Yuna, now used to your bickering, just shrugged and turned her attention to the front of the classroom, leaving you to deal with him.
You let out a sigh, hoping that Seungmin would leave you alone for at least a minute. "Is there any chance you’ll be quiet today?"
He pretended to think for a moment. "Hmm, nope."
You groaned, dropping your head back onto your desk. "Why do you even sit next to me?"
"Fate," he said casually, glancing over as if he hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing ever.
You shot him a disbelieving look. "What?"
"It’s fate," he repeated with a smirk. "Out of all the seats in this entire classroom, I ended up next to you. Don’t you think that means something?"
"Yeah, it means I’m cursed."
He laughed, the sound annoyingly cheerful, and leaned in closer. "Maybe, or maybe you’re just lucky to have me next to you."
"Lucky isn’t the word I’d use."
Before he could respond, the classroom started filling up, and the teacher finally arrived. You sent a silent prayer of thanks, hoping class would be a break from Seungmin’s endless teasing.
“…you will do this assignment by pairs. To speed things up, partner with your seatmate.”
It was nothing new to be stuck with your enemy, but when you realized that the activity involved a short roleplay drama, you felt a surge of panic. Acting alongside him was nowhere on your bucket list of things to do—if you even had a bucket list.
“Maam, can I exchange my partner?” you raised your hand, desperation evident in your voice.
“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Seungmin clutched his chest dramatically, feigning offense.
“What’s wrong with your partner?” the teacher asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sometimes you wondered why everyone seemed to love this annoying dog sitting next to you.
With no choice left, you begrudgingly held the script with a scowl. When would you ever have a peaceful day in class? Why did you have to pretend to be in love with this guy?
“Come on, read your line!” Seungmin demanded, his annoyance bubbling over.
Of all the choices in your teacher's fishbowl, you’d drawn the romantic scene everyone praying not to get. You would have preferred a horror script over this.
“I don’t want to!” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly.
“Well, you have to! It’s your fault for picking it!” he shot back, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“I told you to pick it!” you replied, frustration mounting.
“And then I’d be the one to blame? We don’t have a choice but to do well.” He leaned back, crossing his arms smugly.
“Ugh! I hate you so much!” you exclaimed, slumping back in your seat.
“Well, you have to love me now.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying your misery.
“What did I do in my past life to deserve this?” You groaned, reading the lines again.
“Probably killed someone,” he quipped, shooting you a knowing look.
You glared at him, and he immediately raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing.
“Oh, apologies. Let’s practice! You don’t have a choice; it’s either fail or just accept it.”
“I hate you.”
“I accept it, Juliet.” He grinned, clearly relishing your frustration.
Thankfully, the teacher had given you a week to prepare, which meant you never took practicing seriously after that.
“We’ll practice tomorrow,” Seungmin stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“I have something to do tomorrow,” you said nonchalantly, hoping to deter him.
“I have things too, but I want good grades, so you have to come.” He started packing his things away.
“Hey, Seungmin!” You both turned at the sound of his friend’s voice. It was Hyunjin, accompanied by Felix and Jisung. You straightened up, suddenly conscious of your appearance.
“Let’s go somewhere!” Jisung draped an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders.
“I have important things to do,” Seungmin replied, and Jisung pouted in response.
“Oh, it was you in the cafeteria the other day,” Hyunjin said, looking right at you. It took you a moment to process that he was talking to you.
“Um…” Your voice faltered. “Yes?”
Hyunjin smiled at you, and you felt your heart race.
“Guys, wait for me outside. You just sneaked into my classroom,” Seungmin laughed, and his friends complied, heading for the door.
You were still catching your breath from the interaction when Seungmin turned back, grinning at you. “So, Hyunjin is your crush?” he asked, his tone teasing.
Oh no! Seungmin had caught on!
“Of course, I’m not!” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“Why are you saying ‘I’m not’ in such an awkward way?” He laughed, clearly enjoying this new revelation. “Then it is true!”
“Please don’t tell him!” You pleaded, realizing you were losing this battle.
“Of course I won’t…” He smiled coyly, “…I won’t do what you ask.” Then, with a laugh, he tossed his bag over his shoulder and dashed out the door.
“Oh, damn…” You froze in your seat, panic setting in.
“See you at practice tomorrow!” Seungmin waved annoyingly from the doorway, clearly aware that you had no choice but to comply.
As the door swung shut behind him, you sank back into your chair, contemplating your fate. Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare.
--
You arrived at his house and rang the doorbell repeatedly, knowing he would probably just hear it and take his sweet time.
“You’re late,” he said with a smug smile when he finally opened the gate.
“I’m not,” you insisted, holding your wrist up to show him your watch, the sleek silver face gleaming in the sunlight.
“You’re late by 58 seconds,” he replied, crossing his arms as if he were judging your punctuality.
“What?! It’s not my fault you opened your gate late!” You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
He chuckled at your annoyed expression, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Come in.”
“Not like I have a choice,” you muttered, stepping inside.
It was your first time in his house, and you weren’t surprised by how nice it was. The exterior was already immaculate, and the inside was just as polished—walls adorned with family photos and art that hinted at a cozy atmosphere. But you would never admit that to him.
“My parents aren’t home; they have work,” he said, glancing around the living room as if to check for any potential chaos.
“No one asked,” you shot back, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.
“Just wanted to let you know in case you try to kill me; there’s a CCTV camera around,” he said, half-serious.
“Oh, great. Just what I need,” you replied dryly, shaking your head.
He headed to the kitchen, presumably to get something to drink, giving you a moment to explore. You took the chance to glance at the pictures displayed throughout the room. One photo caught your eye—him as a child, beaming with joy as he played in a park.
When he returned, you pointed to the picture near the TV. “Is that you?”
“Obviously,” he said, rolling his eyes, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.
You squinted at the picture, then turned to him, suddenly serious. “I mean… will there ever be a time for us to stop bickering, even just for a bit? I'm trying to start a normal conversation here”
“Will there be?” he countered, sitting beside you with a teasing grin, his body relaxed as he leaned back.
“Yeah, right. Never,” you replied, smirking despite yourself.
He handed you the printed script he’d prepared, the edges slightly crinkled. “Why are we putting so much effort into this? It’s just reading the script, not really acting it out.”
“Because I have a goal grade, unlike you,” he said matter-of-factly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Have you forgotten I’m an achiever too?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.
When would this bickering ever end?
“Hyunjin is coming,” he announced suddenly, the air in the room shifting.
“No one asked--” You paused, then asked, “Wait what?!”
“So you should behave if you don’t want to scare him off,” he added, the grin still plastered on his face.
“Seungmin, why would you do that?!” You lightly slapped him on the shoulder, half-exasperated, half-amused.
“Because… I can?” He laughed, shielding himself playfully. “I mean, what’s wrong with inviting a friend? He's good at acting he can help”
“I hate you so much,” you groaned, exasperation creeping into your tone.
Hyunjin had been your crush for as long as you could remember, and the thought of him being in the same space as you made your stomach flutter with nerves. He was perfect in every way—charismatic, charming, and completely out of your league.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Seungmin teased, leaning closer with that infuriating grin. “Oh, I forgot—you like him, right?”
You responded by giving him another light shove, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. It was always like this between you two—endless banter, lighthearted teasing, but the presence of Hyunjin added a layer of awkwardness you couldn’t quite shake.
You both settled onto the couch, the printed script between you. Seungmin glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Okay, let’s get this over with. You read Juliet’s lines, and I’ll read Romeo’s,” he said, smirking.
“Fine, but don’t mess it up,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.
You started reading through the script, your voice steady but laced with a hint of nervousness. “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear.”
Seungmin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Wow, so poetic. Just make sure you don’t faint from all that romance.”
You shot him a glare. “Shut up, Romeo.”
Just then, the doorbell rang. Your heart raced. Hyunjin was here.
“See? You should behave,” Seungmin teased, nudging your shoulder.
You threw him a playful glare, then he rushed to open the door. There stood Hyunjin, looking effortlessly cool, his smile warm as he greeted you both. “Hey! Ready to practice?”
“Uh, yeah! Come in!” you said, trying to keep your cool but feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.
Seungmin sauntered over, clearly relishing the moment. “Hyunjin! Glad you could join us! We were just getting to the juicy parts.”
You shot him a warning look, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass you. Hyunjin, however, seemed unfazed. “Nice! I can help you both with the romantic scenes if you want.”
You nodded eagerly. “That would be great! I need help with… you know, acting like I’m in love.” You winced at how obvious that sounded.
Hyunjin grinned, moving to sit across from you. “Alright, let’s try a scene. Here’s the famous balcony part. Juliet says, ‘O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again.’”
You felt your heart flutter. “I’ll try,” you said, taking a deep breath. “O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again!”
Hyunjin smiled, then gestured for you to continue. “And then Romeo responds with, ‘I would not for the world they saw thee here.’”
Seungmin picked up the line, and you both began to read, the atmosphere shifting as you focused on the scene. You felt a playful energy in the air, the tension of performing lifting your spirits.
“‘I would not for the world they saw thee here,’” Seungmin said, his voice low and earnest.
You replied, “Then there’s no need to be ashamed,” trying to put as much emotion into it as possible.
Hyunjin clapped after your line. “That was great! You both looked really good together!”
You and Seungmin exchanged a quick look. “No!” you both said in unison.
Hyunjin chuckled, clearly entertained by your synchronized denial. “Really, it’s just acting! But seriously, you guys have good chemistry.”
“Thanks!” you said, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride.
“Alright, let’s keep practicing!” Hyunjin suggested, eager to dive back into the script.
You focused on the lines, the playful banter keeping the atmosphere light. As you practiced, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment, the camaraderie making the task feel less like a chore and more like fun.
With Hyunjin guiding you, you felt more confident as you delivered your lines, ready to tackle the performance together.
--
The days passed in a blur as you and Seungmin practiced again at his house. You settled into a routine, the playful banter punctuating your rehearsals, and surprisingly, you started to enjoy the time spent together.
Finally, the day of the presentation arrived. As you stood in front of the class, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. When it was your turn to deliver your lines, you poured your heart into the performance, channeling every emotion.
To your surprise, Yuna leaned over after the presentation and whispered, “It wasn’t like you were entering each other’s nerves at all!” Her compliment made you beam with pride.
Seungmin, too, impressed you with his serious demeanor. For once, he seemed genuinely focused, and seeing him so dedicated made you realize how much he cared about doing well. You couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for both of you.
After the applause died down, your teacher announced, “I’m pleased to inform you all that I have chosen actors for the upcoming school play, and I choose…” She paused dramatically, glancing between you and Seungmin, “…you two!”
A wave of excitement surged through you, quickly followed by a burst of playful competitiveness. “See? You should thank me for picking a role that suits us both,” you teased, nudging him playfully.
Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I’m grateful, alright. I forgot for a moment how you despise your pick. In fact, I’m so happy I’m going to treat you to cake and coffee.”
“Yes!” you replied enthusiastically, unable to hide your grin. “I deserve a treat after all that hard work!”
“Sure, but only because I can’t let my scene partner go hungry,” he said, winking.
As you both headed out, the bickering continued, light-hearted and familiar, but beneath it was a shared joy that made the moment all the more special. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this experience was bringing you closer, even if you would never admit it.
At the café, the atmosphere buzzed with chatter and the rich aroma of coffee. You and Seungmin settled into a cozy corner, the tension from earlier melted away as you both began to chat more easily.
“So, do you actually love acting?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Absolutely!” you replied, a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve always idolized Emma Watson. I mean, come on, I look just like her!” You struck a dramatic pose, fluttering your eyelashes.
Seungmin looked at you, clearly unconvinced, with a “Are you kidding me?” expression. You burst out laughing, the sound ringing through the café.
“Okay, maybe not exactly like her,” you admitted, trying to catch your breath. “But a girl can dream, right?”
“Sure, if dreaming means torturing the rest of us,” he shot back with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I’m planning to major in acting when I get to college. It’s my dream!”
“Nice! I like acting too, but I’m thinking about majoring in music,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“Wait, you? You know how to sing?” You raised an eyebrow, unable to hide your skepticism.
“Wanna hear?” he challenged, a playful glint in his eye.
“Please no!” you teased, dramatically placing your hand on your heart. “I’d rather sleep forever than listen to your singing.”
Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so mean! I think it would be the opposite”
“Mean? I’m just saving you from embarrassment,” you shot back with a grin. “You should thank me!”
"you'll regret what you're saying when I become famous."
As you exchanged playful banter, you realized that this was your way of connecting. The teasing and light insults had become second nature, and somehow, the hurtful words didn’t sting anymore. Instead, they felt like an essential part of your friendship, a comfortable rhythm that made you both laugh.
“Seriously though,” you said, softening a bit, “I think it’s awesome that you’re into music. We’ll be the dynamic duo of arts!”
“Absolutely! Just don’t expect me to duet with you anytime soon,” he joked, raising his cup in a mock toast.
“Deal!” you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in a long time.
--
As the practice for the play approached, your schedule became packed, leaving little time for anything else. Excitement bubbled inside you, especially since Hyunjin, a year ahead of you, was also in the cast. You could hardly wait for the next rehearsal.
One day, while waiting for practice to start, you found yourself lost in thought, staring at Hyunjin as he chatted with some friends. Seungmin, ever the observant one, caught you in the act.
“You look like a lovesick puppy,” he teased, a playful grin stretching across his face.
You quickly snapped out of your daydream, narrowing your eyes at him. “Shut up! I’m not!” You playfully punched his arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your point.
“Uh-huh, sure,” he laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction.
“You’re just jealous that I’m not staring at you like that!”
As partners playing lovers in the play, you often imagined being paired with Hyunjin. But the teacher had chosen Seungmin, and surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you expected. You’d gotten used to the banter, and the awkwardness faded as practice continued.
Days passed, filled with rehearsals that drew you closer to Seungmin. The bickering remained, a constant source of amusement.
During one practice, while the two of you were warming up, Seungmin leaned over to Hyunjin, a mischievous smile on his face. “Hyunjin, have you already eaten? This monkey here asks,” he said, pointing at you as if you were some sort of pet.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “I am! Thank you for asking!” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Yeah, and she also said you were handsome,” Seungmin added, clearly enjoying the moment.
You felt your cheeks flush, and in a mock fit of outrage, you dashed toward him. “Seungmin!” you yelled, but he was quicker. He took off running, his laughter echoing through the practice room.
When you finally caught up to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a playful hug, making him squirm. “You’re such a tormentor!” you laughed, shaking him lightly.
From across the room, Hyunjin watched the whole scene unfold, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure they hate each other?” asked the director, who was shaking his head in disbelief.
Hyunjin just nodded, clearly entertained. “Definitely yes!” he replied, chuckling at your playful dynamic.
As you and Seungmin continued to tease each other, you realized that despite the playful bickering, there was an undeniable comfort between you—something that made every rehearsal just a little bit brighter.
---
The rain poured down in relentless sheets, and there you were, standing under a shed, glaring at the gray sky as if it were personally responsible for your soaked shoes. You had forgotten your umbrella—again.
As you waited, shivering slightly from the cold, you spotted Seungmin in the distance, standing confidently under a bright yellow umbrella. He was teasingly waving it over his head, a smirk plastered on his face as he called out, “Looks like someone forgot their umbrella again!”
You rolled your eyes and shot him a finger. “Very funny, Seungmin!”
He sauntered over, his grin widening with each step. "You wanna share?"
You rolled your eyes. "No thanks." you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.
“Okay, then. One word is enough for me.” He turned to leave, an exaggerated pout on his lips.
You hesitated for a moment, watching him walk away. “Wait!” you called out, and he turned back, an annoying smile in his lips. “Fine! We can share!”
Seungmin’s face broke into a triumphant grin as he rushed back to your side, positioning the umbrella over both of you. As you walked together, the atmosphere shifted from frustration to lightheartedness, laughter spilling out between the two of you.
“My shoulder is now wet,” Seungmin complained, feigning annoyance as he brushed water off his shirt.
“Is it my fault that you work out so much? Your shoulders are just too broad!” you shot back, unable to suppress a grin.
“Did you just compliment me?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief.
“Ugh, it wasn’t a compliment!” you retorted, trying to keep a straight face.
“Then I’ll just have to embrace this wetness!” he said cheerfully, adjusting the umbrella with exaggerated flair. Before you knew it, he leaned closer, and water dripped off his shoulder, splashing onto you.
You burst into laughter, shoving him playfully. “You idiot!”
Seungmin laughed too, chasing after you as you dashed away, your heart racing with excitement. The rain seemed to fade into the background, the only sound being your giggles and the splatter of water against the pavement.
“You’re going to pay for that!” he yelled, laughter echoing through the downpour.
Just as you turned to look back, he splashed a wave of water right at you, soaking you completely. You retaliated, grabbing a handful of rainwater and splashing it back at him.
The playful battle raged on, and soon both of you were drenched, shivering yet exhilarated.
---
It was two weeks before the big play, and you were laser-focused on perfecting every detail. The pressure was on, and you found yourself spending more time practicing than ever. You wanted everything to be perfect, especially with the role you were playing. Seungmin, of course, was your partner in most scenes, so you had to rehearse together.
But as you delivered your lines, standing face-to-face with Seungmin, it became harder and harder to stay serious. Seungmin kept pulling funny faces behind his lines, causing you to break character and burst into laughter.
“Direct, please, punch him or something!” you whined dramatically, throwing your hands up. “He won’t stop!”
The director, seeing your exaggerated reaction, just chuckled. Meanwhile, the rest of the cast erupted in laughter.
"I’m serious now! I promise!" Seungmin said, shrugging off his antics.
You tried to continue, but the minute you looked at his serious face, you couldn’t hold back your laughter again. His deadpan expression was just too much.
“Okay, okay,” you said, wiping away a tear from laughing too hard. “Let’s take five. I need to compose myself.”
You sat down in the corner, still laughing. Seungmin joined you, shaking his head with a grin.
“Why are you always like this?” you asked, playfully slapping his arm. “We’re supposed to be professional!”
“Hey! I’m doing great! You’re the one laughing!” he protested with a smirk.
You couldn't deny it—something had shifted between you and Seungmin lately. There was this playful, easygoing dynamic now, and to your surprise, you liked it. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but the tension between the two of you had somehow dissolved, leaving behind a strange sort of camaraderie. And it felt... right.
---
Late again. You were quietly crawling your way toward your seat, praying that Seungmin wouldn’t notice. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be too preoccupied to see you sneaking in. But no such luck. Just as you thought you were in the clear, you saw Seungmin glancing in your direction, that infamous smirk already forming on his face. You knew that look all too well—he was up to something.
Desperate, you shot him a pleading look, mouthing a dramatic “Nooo,” and shaking your head in an exaggerated fashion. But the smirk only widened as he raised his hand.
“Ma'am!”
You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable scolding. This is it, you thought. I’m done.
But instead, Seungmin’s voice rang out casually, “I forgot to give you the assignments I collected from the class.”
Your eyes flew open in shock. What?
“Oh right! Thank you, Seungmin, for the reminder.” The teacher smiled at him, clearly appreciating the help.
Seungmin stood up, cool as ever, handing over the pile of papers. He sat back down, a faint smirk still on his lips as if nothing unusual had happened.
You slid into your seat cautiously, your heart still racing. You glanced over at Seungmin, who met your gaze with a quick wink before turning back to his notebook. That was... new, you thought, utterly confused.
--
Practice resumed as usual, and you started to get into the flow of things. You liked rehearsing for the play more than you thought you would, especially with the creative freedom you were given. The only downside? Seungmin never missed an opportunity to get under your skin.
As you entered the practice room, sporting your freshly cut hair, Seungmin immediately took notice.
He eyed you up and down, a teasing grin already forming on his lips. “You know,” he began, casually leaning back in his chair, “short hair doesn’t really suit you.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was headed. “What are you talking about? I look pretty in it,” you shot back confidently, placing your hands on your hips.
Seungmin raised an eyebrow, the playful grin still firmly in place. “Pretty? More like you look like a monkey who tried to give itself a haircut.”
“Excuse me?” You gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “I do not look like a monkey.”
“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Seungmin shrugged, clearly enjoying how flustered you were getting. He leaned closer, dropping his voice dramatically. “But just so you know, if we ever put you in a zoo, you’d fit right in.”
You gasped again, this time more dramatically, then pointed at him with a mock serious expression. “You’re just jealous because I’m out here looking cute and you can’t handle it.”
“Cute?” Seungmin laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Whatever, I know the truth. You’re just afraid to admit that I’m rocking this look,” you teased back, refusing to back down.
“Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, monkey,” he said, chuckling softly as you narrowed your eyes at him.
--
Another day in class, you were erasing the board when something hit the back of your head. Startled, you spun around, spotting Seungmin sitting there, whistling innocently. It was the most obvious thing ever—he didn’t even try to hide it.
You glared at him, trying to keep your cool. ‘Let it go’, you thought. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction’. But then, another paper ball hit you.
"Seriously?" you muttered under your breath, turning to give him a sharp look.
This time, Seungmin didn’t bother pretending. He smiled and pointed to the paper ball on the floor. “Read it,” he said, nodding toward the crumpled note.
You raised your hand, ready to throw the eraser at him with full force.
“Wait!” Seungmin said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Just read it, will you?”
With a dramatic sigh, you picked up the paper, unfolding it. Written in his messy handwriting were the words: “Let’s eat. My treat.”
Before you could react, Jisung, who had been quietly observing the whole scene, burst into laughter. “What kind of lame drama am I witnessing?” he cackled.
You whipped around and threw the eraser at him instead, hitting him square in the shoulder. “Mind your own business, Jisung!”
“Hey! I’m just saying!” Jisung grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos.
Later that afternoon, you and Seungmin found yourselves at a seafood restaurant. Well, it was supposed to be Seungmin’s treat, but somehow the two of you ended up bickering over who would pay. Cause you wanna pay too.
“Let’s settle this the mature way—rock, paper, scissors,” Seungmin proposed, holding out his fist.
“Fine,” you agreed, thinking you had a good chance.
You both threw out your hands, and you won.
“Yes!” you exclaimed, triumph coursing through you for about five seconds. But then Seungmin began to order.
He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re gonna regret that.”
You frowned, confusion creeping in as the waiter approached. Seungmin rattled off an absurd number of dishes—enough to feed an entire village.
“Seungmin,” you hissed, eyes wide in disbelief, “do you really need to order enough food for 30 people?”
Seungmin leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. “You said it was your treat. I’m just taking full advantage.”
You pouted, crossing your arms defiantly. “This isn’t fair. You’re evil.”
“Evil? No way,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I prefer the term ‘strategically gifted.’”
As the waiter left with the long list of orders, you grumbled, “You should’ve thought about that before challenging me.”
In the end, Seungmin ended up paying for most of it, but you insisted on contributing, stubbornly pushing a few bills his way. He didn’t argue too much, shaking his head with an amused smile. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”
“Of course! If I’m going to be broke, I might as well be happy about it,” you retorted, a grin spreading across your face.
Seungmin laughed, clearly entertained by your determination. “Fair enough. Next time, I’ll just let you win without a fight.”
“Deal! But only if you promise not to order enough food for a small army,” you teased, raising your glass in a mock toast.
“Challenge accepted,” he replied, clinking his glass against yours, both of you laughing at the absurdity of it all.
--
Another rehearsal, and you were sitting on the sidelines, legs crossed as you watched your classmates perform. You had just finished your scene and were still buzzing from the energy of it all. The lights cast a warm glow on the stage, and you found yourself quietly admiring the atmosphere, the stars of the production shining brightly in your eyes.
Suddenly, the director's voice broke through your thoughts. “Seungmin, can you step in as the main character for a bit? Our lead’s absent today.”
“Sure,” Seungmin replied, standing up with an easy confidence. He made his way to the center of the stage, and you prepared for him to be awkward or hesitant. Instead, he surprised you.
As he took his place, he transformed. His movements were smooth and assured, his voice resonating with sincerity. You couldn’t help but lean forward, captivated. He moved across the stage effortlessly, delivering his lines with an authenticity that made you forget you were watching your friend.
Wow, he was really talented.
You shook your head slightly, trying to push the thought away. No way could you think Seungmin was handsome. That was just absurd.
Then came a scene where he had to hug the female lead. As he pulled her into a gentle embrace, your heart gave a small, inexplicable flutter. The warmth of his presence seemed to radiate even from where you sat, and you felt an unfamiliar tightening in your stomach.
You tried to shrug it off, focusing on the performance, but the feeling lingered, swirling with an odd mix of admiration and something else entirely. Watching him, you realized you were seeing a different side of Seungmin—one that was undeniably charismatic and captivating.
The rehearsal continued, but you found it harder to concentrate, your thoughts drifting back to the way he had held her, how effortlessly he embodied the character. What was happening to you? You glanced away, trying to regain your composure, but the strange flutter remained, echoing in your mind long after the scene ended.
You were still lost in thought about the rehearsal when Hyunjin sat down beside you. “You look really pretty with your hair like that,” he commented with a smile.
You blushed at the compliment, glancing down. “Thanks! Seungmin said it doesn’t suit me.”
Hyunjin chuckled softly. “Seungmin? He’s just teasing you. That’s his way of telling you he likes it.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You think?”
“Definitely,” Hyunjin replied with a smirk. “He wouldn’t bother teasing you if he didn’t like it.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “He always tease me.”
Hyunjin leaned back, still smiling. “How did you two meet, anyway?”
“We’re neighbors,” you explained. “Since elementary school. We were always competing—who could get the best grades, who could finish their homework first. It’s been like that forever.”
Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Do you hate him?”
You laughed, thinking for a moment. “If I could push him off a cliff, I probably would.”
Hyunjin grinned. “Would you really, though?”
You hesitated, suddenly unsure. “...yes,” you admitted, half-joking.
Hyunjin chuckled, clearly sensing something. “Well, I hope I don’t hear about you two pushing each other off cliffs anytime soon.”
You shrugged with a playful smile. “No promises.”
--
Later, you were eating peacefully in the cafeteria, minding your own business, when Seungmin plopped his tray down across from you. He sat down without a word, digging into his food.
You raised an eyebrow, already knowing what was coming. “Let me guess... your friends are coming?”
Seungmin glanced at you lazily, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. “No, they don’t wanna see you.”
You pouted, pretending to be offended. “I miss Hyunjin.”
“Then ask him out,” Seungmin replied lazily, taking a bite of his bread.
You paused mid-bite, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “You think I have a chance with him?”
Seungmin smirked, shaking his head. “No, he hates monkeys like you who throw erasers at people.”
You gasped, glaring at him. “I do not look like a monkey!”
“Sure, whatever helps you,” Seungmin teased, his grin widening. “And for the record, Hyunjin’s probably just being nice.”
You frowned, “He said I was pretty with my new haircut.”
Seungmin scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how much he lies? He probably tells that to everyone.”
You didn’t bother arguing. Instead, you decided to change tactics. “Help me get him to go out with me, then.”
Seungmin snorted. “Do it on your own. You’re big enough for that.”
You groaned dramatically, leaning across the table toward him. “If you help me, I’ll buy you something. Anything you want.”
Seungmin looked at you, considering it for a moment before shrugging. “Buy me a house."
You rolled your eyes, giving him a deadpan stare. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself.”
He smirked, clearly enjoying how easily you gave up. “Good luck, Juliet.”
--
It was Friday again, and somehow, you found yourself seated next to Seungmin—again. This time, however, you arrived early, a full thirty minutes ahead of your usual time. Feeling tired, you laid your head on the desk, hoping to catch a quick nap.
Just as you were dozing off, you felt a sharp knock on the desk, startling you awake. You looked up to see Seungmin grinning down at you, clearly enjoying your misery.
“Missing me that much, huh?” he teased. “You’re thirty minutes earlier than usual.”
You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “We basically see each other every day. I’m already sick of it,” you replied with a shrug.
Seungmin chuckled, settling into his seat beside you. “You’ll survive. Anyway, I need to copy your assignment.”
You blinked, sitting up straight. “We had an assignment?”
“Seriously?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow, holding back a laugh. He reached into his bag and pulled out his own paper, handing it to you. “Here, just copy mine before Ma’am shows up.”
You took the paper from him, still confused. “Wait, I thought you said you didn’t do the assignment either?”
“I forgot that I had,” Seungmin said casually, smirking. “Now hurry up before it’s too late.”
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your pen and started copying the assignment, scribbling quickly while glancing at the door every few seconds to make sure the teacher wasn’t close. As you worked, you couldn’t help but notice the shift between you and Seungmin. There was a time when you would’ve refused to help him—or worse, argued with him endlessly. But now? It felt... different. There was a weird sense of comfort in these small moments.
"What now? does our fighting over who finish assignments first done?" you laugh,
"Then give me back my paper. I've changed my mind."
You didn’t hate it. In fact, you kind of liked it.
--
 Seungmin was sipping on his water bottle backstage when Hyunjin approached him, all casual as ever.
“Seungmin,” Hyunjin started, leaning against the wall beside him. “Do you like her?”
Seungmin paused mid-sip, glancing sideways at Hyunjin with a raised brow. “What are you talking about?”
Hyunjin gave him a knowing look. “I’ve known you for years, dude. I know when you like someone.”
Seungmin snorted, trying to brush it off. “Why would that matter to you?”
“Well,” Hyunjin said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “if I asked her out, would you get mad?”
Seungmin’s eyes widened slightly before he quickly masked it, his expression turning nonchalant. “Why would I care?”
Hyunjin tilted his head, smirking as if testing Seungmin’s reaction. “Really?”
Seungmin waved his hand dismissively, though his jaw tightened slightly. “What am I, a matchmaker for you two? Why are you even asking for my opinion? I don’t care.”
Hyunjin chuckled and slung an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders. “Thanks, bro. That’s all I needed to know.”
As Hyunjin walked away, Seungmin clenched his water bottle a little too tightly. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more—the fact that Hyunjin seemed interested in you, or the fact that you two were making him feel like some kind of third wheel. Whatever it was, it was starting to get under his skin.
--
Seungmin was making his way back to the classroom, balancing a small box of milk he’d grabbed for you from the cafeteria. He'd overheard you mention wanting one earlier, so without a second thought, he picked one up, hoping to surprise you.
As he neared the classroom door, he paused when he heard your voice. You were deep in conversation with one of your friends, and for some reason, curiosity got the better of him. He stood just outside, hidden by the doorframe, listening.
"Why do you hate Seungmin so much, anyway?" your friend asked.
Seungmin’s ears perked up at the question, his grip tightening around the milk carton. He wasn’t sure why he was still standing there, but he couldn’t move. He just waited.
You sighed before answering, "He's so annoying. Always teasing me, always acting like he’s better than me. He’s infuriating."
Each word hit him harder than he expected, like tiny jabs that made his heart sink deeper and deeper. He already knows this what you felt for him but he doesn't know why it still hurts. He could feel his chest tighten, his breath coming out a little shallower as he stayed rooted to the spot.
But then you added something else, something he missed. A quieter tone followed the harshness of your earlier words. It was softer, almost like you were reflecting on something.
"Lately though... I don’t know. I guess I’ve started to see that maybe he’s not that bad."
But Seungmin didn’t hear those words. He had already turned away, stepping back before he could catch the change in your tone. His heart, now heavier, urged him to walk in the opposite direction, so that’s exactly what he did. The milk, once meant to be a small gesture of kindness, now felt pointless in his hand.
PE class rolled around, and with no rehearsal scheduled, you entered the gym, spotting Seungmin as usual. You both ended up being partners again—something that had become routine at this point. There were no protests, no over-the-top objections. Just quiet acceptance.
The first activity was jogging, but you immediately noticed something was off. Normally, Seungmin would be teasing you the whole time, making snarky comments about how slow you were. But today, he was silent.
"One minute," you said, reading his time on the stopwatch. Normally, this would prompt a laugh from him, followed by some sarcastic remark about how you'd be the first one caught in a zombie apocalypse.
But today, he just nodded and moved on to the next activity without a word. Weird.
The next exercise was push-ups. You barely managed four before collapsing, groaning in exhaustion. Seungmin, on the other hand, breezed through twenty without breaking a sweat. You tried to compliment him in a lowkey way, but he didn’t react—just kept going like a machine.
What is up with him?
Then came the sit-ups. You held down Seungmin’s toes, though it didn’t seem like he needed any help. His form was perfect, and he didn’t even look your way. The proximity of the exercise made you search for his eyes, but every time you tried to make eye contact, he avoided looking at you.
When it was your turn, you felt exhausted by your fifth sit-up, and Seungmin held your toes firmly in place. This time, he watched you more intently, though you couldn’t see him since you were focusing on the exercise. Only when you glanced up did he quickly avert his gaze.
After class, you caught him trying to leave and stopped him in his tracks.
“Seungmin, what’s going on with you?” you asked, planting yourself in front of him.
He gave you a blank look. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re acting... weirdly weird today. Did something happen?”
Seungmin sighed, clearly not in the mood for a conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly, brushing past you.
You caught his arm before he could fully walk away. “Hey, you can talk to me. If something’s wrong, just tell me.”
He paused, looking at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before saying coldly, “Why would I? We’re not friends.”
The words hit you harder than you expected. You froze, watching as he walked away, feeling a strange pang in your chest.
Later, you sat next to Hyunjin, watching Seungmin perform his scenes on stage. He still ignored you, going through the motions of his role flawlessly, but there was no denying the distance between you now. The way he looked past you, as if you weren’t there, made you feel... sad.
“What’s up with him?” you muttered to Hyunjin. “He’s been acting strange all day.”
Hyunjin smirked. “He’s probably mad about what I told him.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”
Hyunjin chuckled softly, leaning closer. “I told him I like you. And that I was going to ask you out.”
You blinked in surprise, staring at him. “Wait... what?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why else would he be jealous?”
“Jealous?” you repeated, confused. “Why would he be jealous?”
Hyunjin let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if you and Seungmin are both idiots, or if you’re just blind.”
“Ouch,” you said, feigning offense, though your mind was spinning. Jealous? Seungmin?
Hyunjin’s laugh faded into a small smile, and after a moment of silence, he sighed. “Wow, my confession really flew under the radar, huh?”
You looked at him, feeling a little guilty. Oh... right. His confession.
You smiled awkwardly. “Wait, was it serious? Or were you just joking?”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “You think I’m a joker like that puppy?” He nodded toward Seungmin, who was still on stage.
Normally, this would be the moment where you’d blush, stammer, and lose your mind. But something didn’t feel right. There was something nagging at you, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
“I...”
Before you could respond, Hyunjin raised a hand, cutting you off. “Actually, you know what? Don’t answer me yet. I’ll wait until after the play presentation.”
He smiled, and you smiled back, though it felt forced.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m just getting my water bottle,” Seungmin’s voice broke the moment as he stepped between you two, grabbing his bottle.
You opened your mouth to say something, but he was gone before you could. You stared after him, feeling more confused than ever.
-
In the past, this type of bickering was normal between you two. You had always gotten on each other's nerves, and usually, you'd be happy to ignore him, savoring the peace and quiet. But this time felt different. Why were you so affected by his silence? Why did it feel like a hollow pit had formed in your chest, waiting for him to fill it? You hated him, didn’t you? You used to hate him—right? But now, all you felt was a growing sense of confusion and frustration, like you were waiting for something that never came.
Seungmin had been avoiding you for three days now, and at first, you brushed it off, assuming he had something on his mind. But as time went on, the weight of his silence pressed harder. It wasn’t just affecting the play—it was affecting you. His avoidance felt more personal than it ever had before, and it gnawed at you until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.
"Seungmin, let's talk." You caught up to him backstage, your voice firmer than usual, trying to mask the vulnerability you were starting to feel.
"Why?" he responded coldly, not even looking in your direction.
You blinked, taken aback by the sharpness of his tone. "What do you mean, 'why'? We obviously need to talk about something."
"I don't want to," he replied like a stubborn child, folding his arms defensively.
You groaned, frustration bubbling inside you. "Stop giving me that bratty attitude, Seungmin. Let's just talk, okay?" Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist, dragging him toward the exit door for privacy.
Once you were both outside, you turned to face him, still gripping his wrist. "Are you angry at me?" you asked softly, though the edge of desperation in your voice betrayed you.
Seungmin pulled his hand away from your grasp, shrugging. "We're normally angry at each other," he muttered, staring at the ground as if avoiding your gaze would shield him from the conversation.
You furrowed your brows, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Seungmin, we both know something has changed between us. We’re… sort of friends now, right? Why are you acting like this?"
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Why? This is normal. We’ve always been like this. Why are you suddenly acting like something's different?"
Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard. "So I’m still just an enemy to you?" The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, and you hated yourself for how much it hurt. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back quickly. "Because for me—" Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to continue. "For me, things changed. I’ll be honest with you. I hated you so much before, Seungmin. I mean, if I could’ve thrown you into the fire pit, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat." You laughed bitterly, trying to lighten the mood, but your heart ached as you realized the truth. "But now, I see you as a friend."
Seungmin's breath hitched at your confession, and for a moment, his walls seemed to crack. But then his jaw clenched, and he shook his head. "No."
You stared at him, bewildered. "No? What do you mean 'no'?"
His voice was strained, like he was forcing the words out. "Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you just focus on Hyunjin and pretend like I’m not even here?"
"Why would I do that?" you asked, confusion lacing your words.
Seungmin's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Because you like him," he bit out. "You like Hyunjin, and you’ve hated me since the day we met."
You stepped closer, lowering your voice, "Seungmin… I told you. We're past that stage of hating each other."
His laugh was hollow, bitter. "You’ve hated me since we were kids. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? But you know what? I preferred it that way. I’d rather you keep hating me than whatever this is."
You were silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. It hit you hard—the realization that Seungmin had always been more affected by your feelings than you’d thought. And now, he was clinging to the past because it was easier to accept your hatred than deal with the uncertainty of whatever you were becoming now.
"But I don't hate you anymore," you said softly, your voice gentle but firm.
His gaze flickered up to meet yours for the briefest second before he looked away again, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he shook his head, taking a deep breath.
"Then what do you feel now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
It was a question you hadn’t fully answered yourself. What did you feel? What had changed between you two? The hate had faded long ago, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. But how could you put it into words when you weren’t sure what those feelings even were?
"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But I know I don’t want to keep ignoring it. I don’t want to keep pretending like we’re still stuck in the past. I care about you, Seungmin, and I—"
He cut you off, his voice sharp but shaky, "Stop. Don’t say it. Please."
His plea was laced with fear, and you could see it now—the fear of getting hurt, of being vulnerable. Seungmin had always hidden behind his teasing and sharp words, but now, as he stood before you, walls crumbling, you realized just how much he had been protecting himself all along.
"Seungmin..." You took a step closer, your hand hesitating before reaching out to touch his arm. "You don’t have to push me away."
He closed his eyes, his shoulders tense, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away again. But then, he sighed, the weight of his emotions too heavy to bear alone anymore. "You don’t get it," he whispered, his voice raw. "I’m scared. Scared that if you don’t hate me, you’ll realize… I’ve liked you for so long, and I don’t know how to handle that."
Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. The tension, the unspoken words, all of it finally made sense. You felt your chest tighten as you processed his words, the vulnerability behind them cutting deep.
Seungmin liked you.
And somehow, deep down, you’d known.
-
The day of the play had arrived, and for the first time, a tight knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. You'd performed in front of people before, but this time felt different. This time, you weren’t just performing in front of a crowd—you were performing in front of him.
As you paced backstage, waiting for the curtain to rise, you couldn’t help but glance around anxiously, searching for Seungmin. The others were already in place, getting ready for the opening act. But Seungmin… he was nowhere to be seen.
Your heart raced as minutes ticked by. What if he didn’t show up? What if his feelings, the tension between you, had driven him away? You shook your head, trying to focus, but the anxiety clung to you like a second skin.
The stage manager called for the cast to take their places, and you stepped toward the stage, dread settling deep in your chest. The lights dimmed, the curtains rustled, and the play was about to begin. But Seungmin—where was he?
Just as the opening music started and your heart sank, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned and saw him. Seungmin, slightly out of breath, his eyes locking with yours as he walked into place. He gave you a small, reassuring nod, and you felt a rush of relief. He had made it.
You took a deep breath, letting his presence calm you, and when the curtains finally rose, you stepped into your role. The lights blinded you for a second, and the sound of the audience rustled in the background, but none of that mattered. Your focus was on one person.
Seungmin.
You went through your lines, heart pounding in your chest. The audience faded away, and it was just the two of you on stage. But when you looked into Seungmin’s eyes, delivering your lines, it felt too real—like every word you spoke wasn’t part of the play but something deeper.
And then came the moment. The pivotal line.
As you reached the climax of your scene, Seungmin stepped closer, his gaze steady and intense. “I love you,” he said, his voice clear and sincere.
Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words, delivered in that moment, felt electric. It wasn’t just a line; it was a declaration that cut through the scripted lines and went straight to your heart.
Tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. You weren’t supposed to cry here—not in this scene—but it was impossible to hold back the emotion. The intensity of the moment, standing before him as he revealed his feelings, overwhelmed you.
Seungmin’s gaze softened, and for a second, the audience faded away. It was just you and him, wrapped in a moment that felt like the truth finally breaking through.
You tried to respond, but the weight of his confession hung in the air, filling the space between you. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.
The play continued, but all you could think about was Seungmin’s words. He had spoken them as part of the script, but they felt so real, so genuine. Something shifted in the atmosphere between you two—something undeniable.
As the final act came to a close, and you took your bow, the audience erupted in applause. But even then, your eyes were only on Seungmin, wondering if he felt the same shift in the air between you two. Something had changed. Something profound. And while you weren’t sure where it would lead, for now, you were content just to hold on to the moment, letting it linger as the lights dimmed and the curtains closed.
For now, the stage had played its part, but what came next was something only time would tell.
-
a reblog, like, and comment is very much appreciated to keep me going. thanks for reading, love!
sorry for being inactive lately and not responding to any of your messages i appreciate you all love you sm!!
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darlingdaisyfarm · 2 days
Text
Ford x fem!reader x Stan
minors dni
Stan’s grip on you tightens, pulling you against his frame as he crashes his lips against yours. There’s no hesitation, just raw, impatient hunger, the kind of kiss that takes your breath away and leaves you wanting more. His hands roam with a boldness that leaves no room for doubt, fingers digging into your hips as if claiming you.
From behind, Ford’s approach is way softer. His lips ghost along the curve of your neck, pressing tender slow kisses to your skin. Such contrast between them makes you dizzy, overwhelmed by the intensity of their touches. You groan softly, caught in the heat of it all, and instinctively lean back into Ford’s embrace. There Stan's face visibly frowns.
Stan pulls back just enough to mutter, “Don't let him think he's in charge here.” his tone is rough, tinged with jealousy, his hand slides over your side, possessive and demanding as if trying to take you away from his twin.
Before you can respond, Ford’s voice cuts through, quiet but confident. “She can decide for herself, Stan,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “can’t you, darling?”
The tension between the brothers is palpable, but so is the way their hands explore your body. Stan’s touch is firm, always a little too eager, while Ford’s fingers trail gently over your skin, savoring every inch. They both can’t get enough of you. Stan’s lips crash back into yours, but Ford’s kisses never stop, his mouth pressing slow, sensual kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, you literally melt between them. 
A loud moan escapes your lips when Stan's hand slaps your butt, you sob from a little pain and feel Ford's body tense behind you as he glares at his brother. “What? Are you trying to make me look bad?” Stan huffs.
Ford smirks softly, nipping at your skin gently before whispering, “no? Im just appreciating how beautiful she is.” his touch is feather-light, contrasting with Stan’s more possessive grip. “and I'm trying to please her, Stanley, not hurt her."
“Yeah? well, I’d like to appreciate her too,” Stan bites out, jealousy bubbling inside him. “don’t forget who’s been here longer.” he murmurs into your mouth and leans in again, capturing your lips.
You whimper softly, overwhelmed by their attention, your face all flushed as you try to hold yourself. Both men vying for your attention. Ford smiles against your skin. “Good girl,” he praises softly.
Stan, at the exact same time, mutters, “Atta girl.”
They both fall silent as their words intersect in the most unexpected way. They pull away, looking at each other over your shoulder, realizing what just happened. There's an awkward silence for a moment, but then Stan huffs in annoyance, his grip on your waist tightening. “Seriously? you gotta steal my lines now?”
Ford, always calm, arches an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk. “Didn’t realize praise was trademarked,” he remarks dryly.
You laugh softly, but the sound breathy from arousal. "Are you really arguing about this right now?” you ask them, needing their attention and kisses so badly, you don’t want that to stop.
Stan shoots a half-grin your way, nodding. “You better believe it, sweetie. I’m not lettin’ this nerd outdo me.”
Ford still remains calm and patient, although his hand slides up, cupping your chin, gently turning your face towards him. “Outdo you? Stan, we’re not in a competition.” his lips gently touch yours as he murmurs, “we’re both making her feel good.”
Stan’s cocky grin widens, and he leans in, his voice rough as he rests his hands on your thighs. “Speak for yourself, i think she likes me better.”
Ford chuckles smoothly, rolling his eyes and pressing another kiss to your shoulder, his breath tickles your skin pleasantly. “Is that so? Why don’t we let her tell us herself?”
Your heart pounds, your body burns at their touch and it takes your breath away when their eyes focus solely on you, waiting, watching. “I. . . I like both of you,” you admit breathlessly. “please, just- just continue, I need you both.”
Stan’s eyes light up, his fingers slide lower, his thumb brushing teasingly along your hip. “That’s my girl.”
Ford’s touch remains soft still, his lips pressing a delicate kiss to your neck as he murmurs against your skin, “You’re perfect, darling.”
186 notes · View notes
soobnny · 2 days
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no other heart — best friend!kim seungmin x reader ; only one person can ever persuade seungmin to do anything (1.4k words)
happy bday seungmo! you are my favorite person
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Seungmin feels Hyunjin before he even sees his face.
He comes in the form of a hand falling firmly on Seungmin’s shoulder, and the first thing the younger boy thinks is that your hands are supposed to be smaller.
The house that they’re in is loud, and really really crowded. It’s a setting that Seungmin doesn’t often take part in, preferring the quiet sounds of his airconditioning back at his room.
There is also a sharp contrast in how the boy favors his music. While he’s currently surrounded by the thrumming of music that beats in his ears, he would rather be at the dorm in the comfort of his lifeline (or, for better words, his collected playlist for the month).
From the corner of his eye, he sees his oldest friend, Chan, talking to a set of faces he’s never seen before. He wonders how the older boy does it. Seungmin has no plans of starting a conversation unlike Chan, not when he’s overstimulated by the flashing lights, and the confusing aromas wafting from the red cups that everyone seems to be holding, and the hand on his shoulder that most definitely is not yours.
“Seungmin, you came!” That’s also definitely not your voice.
“Hyunjinnie.” He breathes out, head muddled by his sudden urge to go home despite just having arrived around half an hour ago. He doesn’t sound as enthusiastic as his friend, but Hyunjin gives the boy a pass. Besides, it’s not everyday you see Kim Seungmin out past 10 in the evening, more less at a party.
Seungmin shifts a little from where he’s standing, just enough for Hyunjin’s hand to fall limp by his side. If you knew him less, you would think he was being rude. However, his indifference does a lot in calming his friend down.
He still has a distaste for parties. At least, this way, Hyunjin knows that no force has taken over Seungmin for his sudden appearance.
“Not to be mean, I’m just genuinely curious. How come you’re he—”
“Seungminnie!”
He shifts his attention to the sound.
There’s your voice, finally your voice, loud and clear to the boy, enough to be heard over the music and the voices and the heat.
There’s a sudden understanding that crosses Hyunjin’s features, and he says something on par with how Seungmin would only ever go to anything if it was you who asked.
“Ah, of course you’re here, (name). That must be why he’s here too.” Hyunjin giggles, sending a wink that looks more like a blink to the both of you before he disappears into the crowd.
Whatever he means.
Hyunjin has always had a knack for being cryptic anyway.
There is no proper greeting when Seungmin finds you, only a flick on your forehead.
“What’s wrong with you,” he says, but there is no grit in his voice. “You asked me to come here, and left me waiting for you for thirty minutes.”
“I was late.” You smile sheepishly, taking his hand in yours before dragging him along the pool of people to lead him outside.
He should be used to it now, the ease in which you link your hands together, as if there’s no need for a warning anymore when you’ve known each other for this long. Still, Seungmin finds it unfair. He needs it, needs the warning before you take his heart hand like this.
“You shouldn’t be asleep on a Friday night like a senior citizen.”
This senior citizen came out all the way here for you, he thinks.
“‘M going home now,” is what he chooses to say.
“No!” You suddenly stop in your tracks, just when you’re about to reach the grassy fields of the backdoor of whoever the hell owned this house.
It makes Seungmin stumble over, feet in a hurry to plant themselves on the ground so he doesn’t crash into you. When you turn to face him with a scolding look on your face, the only thing he can think about is how awfully close you are.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to proximities like these with you. “I’m already here, don’t you want to be with me?”
Seungmin sighs because he does, really does, but not in the way you’re asking right now.
“Plus, there’s supposed to be a comet tonight. I think we’ll be able to see it from here.” Your hand latches back on his, pulling him outside where the cold breeze of the night air greets you.
“There’s been a comet every night since last Wednesday.”
“But the city doesn’t quite get a view of it like this.”
By his fate, because he can never say no to you, he watches the comet falling just as you mention it.
Seungmin supposes you’re right. It is a little nicer out here compared to the light pollution of the city, and there’s a good enough distance between where you are and the painfully loud music of the house, and he doesn’t have to deal with anyone but the one person he cares about.
He chooses not to think about the eventual teasing that’s bound to come his way.
He knows Hyunjin’s spreading word around, that Kim Seungmin is actually here, and his friends already know why.
Because you’re here. What other reason does he need?
And Seungmin supposes he can sacrifice a few hours of sleep. Despite begrudgingly coming here, he doesn’t think he’d be able to trade the way you look right now—with your eyes soft and enchanted, and your features highlighted by the soft glow of the moon, and the small, but fond smile playing at your lips.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“It is.” He’s not looking where you are, and you’re too painfully distracted by the falling comet and the thousand stars blanketing the night sky to notice that he’s only ever looked at you tonight.
“Seungmin?”
His breath hitches when you suddenly turn to him, and there is no other coping mechanism he can think of but clearing his throat and looking anywhere but your eyes.
You take the moment where he’s too distracted to wrap your arms around him.
Seungmin freezes at the contact, the nudge in his heart so visible on his face. It’s a shame you have your head buried on his chest to notice the way he suddenly relaxes, hand gingerly resting on the small of your back for a second before wrapping himself entirely around you.
“Why’re you hugging me all of a sudden?” It sounds like he wants to say more, but he remains hesitant. Instead, he pulls you just a little closer.
“Thanks for coming. I know you hate going out to stuff like this, and I really do feel bad for practically forcing you. But, at the same time, I’m just really happy you came too.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing to feel bad about.”
Fuck, the way he says it is so awkward, and he cringes at himself for feeling this nervous around you. He tries to steady his pulse, tries to stop the rapid way in which his heart beats because he knows you can hear it.
“I stole your sleeping hours, of course I feel bad. Plus you hate parties, and yet you came here anyway.” You loosen your grip to look up at him.
You’re ill-prepared to see the tenderness in which his eyes are looking at you right now. He does that sometimes. You’ve never quite figured out why.
“Because you asked me to.” He tells you, really tries to tell you without saying too much. “I’d do anything if it was you who asked me, stupid girl.”
It feels like more of a realization to himself, and he doesn’t really want you to think about what he means. At least not tonight, not in the same night he’s come to find out just the lengths he would go through for you. His lips are parted like he wants to say more, but he decides against it. Still, his very few words will leave you blushing for the next few days after tonight and strike up a few realizations of your own.
Seungmin has known, and he’s known what he was signing up for—when he’d come here, when he’d pick you up, when he’d answer your calls at two in the morning.
He likes you a lot, and no other heart will ever make him act this way.
Not like you do.
So, for now, he’ll keep doing anything if you ask him. He’ll keep showing up until he’s ready to commit to the How To Confess scripture. He’s a simple boy, after all.
A simple boy with a simple heart that beats only for you.
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Text
RELAX
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PAIRING : stanford!sam winchester x fem!reader
SUMMARY : reader is stressed from studying for her upcoming final and sam helps her relax
WARNINGS : fluff. smut. oral (fem. receiving). fingering. rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie. strong language.
REQUESTED BY @s4wdvator : "I would love a Sam Winchester fic, I love him, I'm a total Sam girl who also loves Dean hejehjhehe. It would be a Stanford thing!Sam dating Fem!Reader, it could be smutt or fluff!!"
A/N : this was requested by a fellow mutual of mine (sorry it took so long.) hopefully it's similar to what you had in mind, if not, hope you enjoy it anyway! my requests are currently on hold since i have so many ideas of my own that i still need to write, but it'll be open in the future, i promise. this is my first sam oneshot ever, hope you guys enjoy it!
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For the past week, you went to class and then straight home. You had a huge test coming up that counted for half your grade. If you failed, you could kiss your scholarship goodbye. So, for the weekend, you decided to turn your distracting phone off so you could study. And it seemed to work... until it didn't.
The room had been eerily silent as you read. You were so concentrated on the material before you that a loud knock made you jump in freight. After a beat or two, your heart calms. With a groan, you push the chair away from the desk and walk to the door. Sam stands before you, a worried expression on his face.
"Y/N," He huffs. "Are you all right? I've been calling and texting you!"
You sigh, moving out of the doorway to let him in. "'Sorry. I've been studying."
He walks in, and you close the door behind him. "Your head's been buried in that book for a week. You need to take a break."
You sit on your bed, replying, "I can't. If I fail, I won't be able to afford to keep going here. Then how will we be together?"
"Hey," Sam sits beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Don't talk like that. You're the most intelligent girl I know. You'll pass the test."
You stand up, facing him as you rant. "But what if I don't? What if I have to leave and—"
"You're not going to leave." He interrupts your spiraling, knowing if he didn't stop it now, you wouldn't stop. "You're going to pass. Then you'll be stuck with me."
A giggle slips past your lips. You could always count on your boyfriend to lighten your mood. A smirk takes over his beautiful face, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.
Sam leans in closer and says, "Take a break. Let me help you relax."
You hesitate for a moment, afraid if you give in, you won't be able to study afterward. "I don't know..."
"I'll quiz you after." He entices.
"Mm... alright."
Sam gets up from the mattress and sheds his jacket. Tossing it aside, he tells you to lay on your belly. Without question, you do as he says. You stretch across your bed, head tilted towards the wall, eyes closed, as you slowly inhale. The bed dips as Sam climbs on before sitting on your ass. His large and magical hands grip your tense shoulders. You exhale in euphoria as his fingers dig into your muscles just right.
Tingling sensations rid the worry from your body. Your teeth sink into your lip, trying to suppress moans. Part of you didn't want to admit how much you needed this. His hands travel below your shoulder blades, toward the middle of your back. He works your back exactly how you need it, causing breathy groans to slip past your lips. It continues for a few minutes, and you're in another world.
Your brain becomes unaware of Sam sliding off and kneeling between your thighs. His hands begin to massage your behind, quickly drawing your attention. Part of you knew you should stop him, but the other didn't want to. Instead, you let his hands slither under your loose-fitted shorts and focus on your ass. His thumbs massage closer and closer to your lips, occasionally brushing against them.
It was all you could think about. You need him. You craved Sam's long and slender fingers inside you. The more he teased, the wetter your pussy got. You open your legs wider, giving him access like any other time.
A whimper falls from your mouth as your boyfriend gently rubs over your slick entrance. Wetness lubricates his thumbs, and before you beg him to, he slides them in. You gasped, but just as fast as they were in, they were out. He brings his fore and middle fingers to your entrance before gliding your slick towards your clit.
He rubs your bundle of nerves a few times, only making you wetter. The moans held back were now audible. His fingers slide back to your core, and without missing a beat, he plunges them in. Your body tenses as he dives deep, the tips of his long fingers hitting your cervix. A pained yet pleasurable moan echoes in the small room.
You were so thankful your roommate decided to go out. Sam slowly draws his fingers in and out. Once they're covered in your wetness, they disappear from your core. You open your eyes and look over your shoulder, missing his touch. The sight you saw somehow made you wetter. He had his fingers in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing around his digits, sucking them clean.
He slowly pulls them out, and you watch with admiration. Sam flips you on your back, granting you a better view. He pulls your underwear down, leaving you in the oversized shift you stole from him. He tosses them off the bed and gives you a mischievous smirk. His head dips between your thighs, and your hand quickly grabs his hair.
His mouth closes around your clit, sucking hard enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your walls clench around nothing, making you miss his fingers. As if he read your mind, he fills you with his slender digits. He steadily increases his speed until he reaches the pace that makes your toes curl and your back arch. Your grip on his hair tightens as his teeth graze and lightly bite your clit before soothing it with his tongue.
The pressure in your belly quickly builds, threatening to burst. You force your vision to focus right on your boyfriend. As if he sensed your stare, he gazes up at you, a smirk upon his lips. You throw your head back as he harshly sucks on your sensitive nub. His knuckles pound against your skin, leaving bruises where your pussy ends and your legs begin. It all became too much, and before you knew it, you came on his fingers.
Without missing a beat, Sam removes his fingers and drags his tongue across your soaked entrance, licking between each fold to get every last drop. Once he finishes, he sits up and unbuckles his belt. As relaxed as you feel, you wouldn't mind a good fucking. He unzips and pulls his pants to his knees. You dampen and bite your bottom lip as his member springs free.
There were several reasons why you fell in love with Sam, and his dick was one of them. You'd never objectify him, but if others understood what hid beneath his boxers, they'd try harder to steal him away. The first time you'd seen it, you wondered how he planned to fit his entire cock inside you. It took a few tries before you could finally take him all in, and man, was it worth it. You hated to admit it, but he had you dick-whipped.
"Like what you see?"
"Mhm. Now, shut up and fuck me," You demand before pulling his neck down and connecting your lips with his.
You could taste your sweet juice on his tongue. The thought of you tasting your cum on another man's lips repulsed you, but on Sam's, it only fed your lust. He presses his body against yours, his tip tracing your inner thigh. You moan into his mouth, practically begging for more. Sam breaks the kiss but remains close enough that his breath fans across your lips as he speaks.
"You ready for me?" You nod eagerly. He reaches between your legs, aligning his long member with your entrance. With eyes closed, you anticipate the slight but brief pain that'll come with his penetration. He holds down your hip with his left hand, feeling how tense you are before whispering, "Relax."
That's exactly what you did. Or at least tried to, anyway. You take a few deep breaths, willing your mind and heart rate to slow. Once Sam feels your body loosen, he pushes himself into your tight cunt. You whimper as his dick stretches your walls, both pleasure and pain fighting for dominance. He fits half of his appendage before pulling out. With every thrust, he goes deeper and deeper until his entire cock fits inside your small hole. Soon, the pleasure had won.
You were a moaning mess underneath your boyfriend. His hips moved skillfully, pushing you towards the edge. You clutch his shirt, hanging on for dear life as he rails into you at a hard and fast pace. The tip of his member brushes against your cervix when you wrap your legs around his torso, giving him a deeper angle. The sounds of skin clapping and your bed creaking to the rhythm of each thrust fill the quiet room.
He dips his head, finding comfort in your neck. Sam nibbles at your skin before sucking harshly, leaving a mark. You try arching your back, but his weight won't let you. Tears pool in your eyes as the pleasure becomes overwhelming. His hand snakes between your bodies, and his thumb rubs your sensitive clit. It was enough for your tears to spill over. You feel the familiar rush and warn Sam.
"Ohmygod, baby, I'mgonnacum," You mumble quickly.
"Let it go, sweetheart."
With his permission, you came undone. You scream as the waves wash over your body. Sam helps you ride out your orgasm, somehow going even harder. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth forms an 'O' as he murders your soaked pussy. It was pure luck you liked it hard and fast like he does.
You knew from experience your lips would be swollen after this, and hell if you didn't consider it a trophy. Suddenly, Sam's thrusts stopped, and you knew what that meant. He was cumming. And sure enough, spurts of hot cum shoot into you as he grunts into your ear. You moan as he fills you up, making you feel full in a different but great way.
He kisses his way to your mouth and shoves his tongue down your throat. You run your fingers through his hair as your body warms up for round 2. After your legs drop to the mattress and shake, you decide to wait a little longer before taking that rollercoaster ride again. Sam pulls away, so you open your eyes and see him gazing lovingly at you. A smile pulls at your lips to match his.
"Are you relaxed?"
You couldn't help but chuckle and answer, "I'm so relaxed."
"Good," He gives you a quick peck. "I should help you relax more often."
"Well, I'll be studying until next Thursday."
"Mm..." Sam traces his lips along your face, tickling your skin. "Sounds good to me."
He kisses your shoulder before pulling out of your dripping cunt and getting up from the bed. You prop yourself on one shoulder as you wonder what he was doing. He pulls on his boxers and walks toward your desk. Your eyebrows furrow as he picks up your textbook. And true to his word, he began quizzing you.
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SAM WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST
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FOREVER TAGS : @jaredpadonlyyyy, @nicksalchemy1, @graciehams, @impala67rollingthroughtown, @nancymcl
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CALL-ME-MRS-WINCHESTER
: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform
*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, headers, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
Note
Hii i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but if you areeee
Can you write smth about Ford x reader where they obviously got a crush on each other (but they dont confess they’re shyly dumb) but the crush got bigger bc reader decides to peck Ford on the cheek as a “Thank you” bc he helped them with smth, yanno yanno :33
Ps: I really really love your writing waaa keep up the good work!!
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The crush you harbour on Ford and him on you was the least subtle thing ever, everyone could see the way you looked at each other as though the other hung the stars in the sky; you were both smitten kittens but were too scared to admit it for one reason or another.
You didn’t know when exactly you started having a crush on Ford, you merely assumed that was always the case ever since you met the man with the beautiful brown eyes, and you were perfectly content with that but what you weren’t content with was how everyone wanted you to confess.
‘He doesn’t like me like that, I’m not sure he likes anyone within a romantic aspect.’ You’d use as your excuse whenever anyone brings up the fact that you had yet to bear your heart to Ford.
‘Then you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.’ They’d respond and you could only look at them as though they’ve grown a second head. However they spoke the truth as Ford was equally as infatuated with you and would find himself pushing back the work he didn’t think required all his attention, all in favour of spending time with you whether it be star gazing or anomaly hunting.
Ford couldn’t remember the last time he felt light on his feet, head in the clouds and as though he was thirty years younger then he actually was and it was all thanks to you. While he wants to confess he found himself unable to do so when he looked into your eyes and found everything he could ever wish for within them; only to end up speechless as your eyes flickered with multiple emotions at once as he remained stood still as a statue, staring at you with a fondness within his eyes as you spoke random things to fill the silence.
This half attempts to confess -or lack there of an attempt- was enough to annoy the people close to you both as Stanley wants to put his head through a wall, Dipper vowed to himself to never be this bad and Mabel was on the verge of screaming at you both to kiss and get it over with at this point; the slow burn was killing her with how hesitant or chocked up you both become in each others presence.
They just wanted you two to cut the bullshit and start being a couple, solely just to make up for the months they’ve all have to suffer from seeing you both obviously pine for one another.
So currently you and Ford were looking for a so called ‘flying pig that may or may not be waddles parent or ancestor’ as Mabel had said to you both that very morning. So when Ford asked dipper if this was true, you swore you’ve never seen a boy sweat as much as Dipper did when he tried his hardest to convince you both that such a creature exists within the woods; you and Ford shared a look that spoke your unwillingness to believe, before agreeing to go out and look for this flying pig that may or may not be waddles’s ancestor.
‘Even if this flying pig is waddles’s ancestor, wouldn’t waddles also have wings by that logic?’ You asked.
‘Not necessarily my dear as the wings could be a hereditary trait that can skip multiple generations and appear in someone later down the line.’ Ford replied as he pushed up his glasses that were slipping down his nose, ‘however even I have to admit that this flying pig phenomena being real is slim to none despite everything else we’ve encountered here.’ He adds and you couldn’t help but laugh.
‘Then the billboard should read as this: Gravity falls, we’ve got everything to satisfy a diehard supernatural fanatic, just no flying pigs.’ You said in a goofy voice as you playfully nudge Ford in the side as he smiled softly, looking at you and feeling his heart become full; but before he could say anything a demonic squeal echoed throughout the forest causing you both to stop just as the birds stopped chirping.
Ford instinctively stood in front of you protectively as you tried to deduct where the blood curdling squeal came from. ‘What was that?’ You whispered my resting your chin on Ford’s shoulder as he reached for the gun at his hip upon instinct.
‘No clue dearest but I believe we might’ve found our anomaly.’ Ford replied lowly for only you to hear, only for the sound of wings beating filled your ears as a plump silhouette of a winged creature could be seen from a distance. You couldn’t help stop yourself from commenting ‘that could be a thousand things before it could be a flying pig-‘ just before you could finish the sentence the plump silhouette must’ve spotted you as it started flying towards you both at high speed; it was downright frighting.
‘FLYING PIG!’ You screamed the moment the figure got close enough to identify as both yourself and Ford ran began to run away from it as fast as your legs could carry you. ‘And here I thought Mabel had eating too much of that edible glitter and hallucinated.’ You added as Ford quickly took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulled you with him to hide behind a random tree, pulling you in close to his chest where you could hear his heart against your ear.
The demonic flying pig flew past you and it was them did you notice how massive those wings were for a creature that was of the same size of an average adult pig, but still it was scary to see a pig with teeth as sharp as razors; what was even more scary was the fact that pigs would eat anything and everything. You cuddled up closer to Ford instinctively as he held you close in order to comfort you. ‘It’s okay my dear, it’s gone now.’ He whispered against your head, kissing it as his hands rubbed up and down your back. ‘It must’ve gotten mad that we were within its territory and felt the need to scare us off.’
‘Well consider this officially scared off.’ You muttered against his turtlenecks finding the honest comfort and protection within his scent as you allowed it to invade your senses.
‘We’ll go back home and forget that we were almost flying pig food and watch some movies while drinking hot chocolate. How does that sound my dear?’ Ford asked and before his brain could comprehend what had happened, you had kissed his cheek and Ford felt his cheeks blossom with heat and his eyes widened.
‘That sounds perfect as long as I’m with you to do all of that of course.’ You replied softly as you looked at Ford with a soft, almost pleading expression and Ford felt his resolve crumble to dust as he averts his gaze from you.
‘I would love nothing more my dear.’ He admits and you were quick to clutch his hand in yours and drag him from your hiding place and begin your walk back to the shack, all the while keeping your wits about you in regards to one flying demon pig. ‘Then it’s a date!’ You exclaimed as you could hear Ford choke on nothing behind you, which only made you smile.
You’ll tell Mabel that you didn’t see a flying pig, but got a date out of trying to make up for the disappointment.
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highdefhoetry · 3 days
Text
a clash of sword and flame.
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cw: nsfw!!! mmf, competitive threesome, penetration (penis in vagina), doggy style, missionary, blow job/facefucking, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampies, spanking, hair pulling, praise, body worship, fingersucking, fingering, g-spot stimulation, multiple orgasms, biting/marking, possessive zoro, pussydrunk sanji
summary: zoro and sanji find out you've been fucking them both. a competition ensues, with you smack dab in the middle.
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You were in trouble. Big trouble. And no amount of sweet talking or sugar coating could get you out of this situation. 
Your eyes dart back and forth between your two furious crew mates - Sanji, who was half naked in bed next to you, clutching the white sheets in tight fists, and Zoro, fully clothed and standing in front of the closed door with his arms crossed and his face twisted into a scowl. Both looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer, silently fuming as a thick and palpable tension wafted through the air. 
It was a well kept secret. Or so you thought. Only Nami and Robin were privy to your midnight visits to the kitchen and your early morning calls to the crow’s nest. You had made sure of that. There was no reason anyone else on the crew needed to know that you were secretly fucking two of your crewmates. Hell would break loose, knowing how intense the rivalry was between those two. 
But even the best kept secrets eventually came to light. And the consequence of your sex-driven decisions was staring you right in the face.
“Tch... you can’t be serious…” the swordsman sneered, shooting daggers at the blonde. “I can’t believe you fell for the shitty cook’s bullshit.”
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Sanji stumbles to his feet while struggling to pull up his briefs, his erection still visible through the white fabric. 
“She's smarter than that,” Zoro storms towards him until they’re both neck and neck. “She knows she can do better than a perverted cook who can't keep it in his pants.”
“Oh, so you think you’re better than me?!”
“I don’t think I’m better than you. I know I am.”
This is bad. Really bad. The two of them always bicker and argue, but they might actually kill each other this time if you don’t do something about it. You pull the thin bed sheets up to your chest, hiding your nude form underneath, and stand up to try and get between them. You created this mess, you had to at least try to stop it from escalating any further.
“Guys, don’t fight…” you try to reason with them, but your words go unheard as their argument continues.
“At least I know how to treat a lady! A brute like you has no concept of chivalry or romance!”
“I don’t need any damn chivalry,” a smirk creeps up Zoro’s face, twisting his expression into one of manic rage. “And I don’t need to smooth talk a woman to get laid.” 
“Oh, yeah?” Sanji’s voice falls, the quiet tone a stark contrast to the previous screaming and yelling. He tears his eyes away from Zoro and looks at you with both passion and scorn in his gaze. It breaks your heart, seeing him this way. This wasn’t what you wanted at all.
But strangely, it doesn’t last. Something shifts in his gaze, encompassing his body as he breaks away from the argument.
He returns to the bed, gently taking your fingers and leaving soft kisses from the back of your hand and up the rest of your arm. It happens so fast you don’t have time to protest, succumbing to his embrace as he wraps his arm around the small of your back. His soft hands glide across your skin, caressing every sensitive nerve with the most delicate touch he can muster. A fluttered moan escapes when his lips reach your neck and shoulders. You close your eyes, then open them again when you feel Zoro’s sharp glare boring into you. He watches on in shock, fists clenched tightly at his sides.
“A beautiful lady like her needs to be worshiped properly… something an ape like you could never do,” Sanji’s sweet words flutter in your ears, making you shiver as he leaves a trail of soft kisses across your skin. “Ma chérie, tu n'as pas besoin d'un imbécile comme lui.”
Zoro mutters something about “stupid fancy French bullshit” as you try to suppress your moans, melting at the praise Sanji is showering over you. It’s what you love most about fucking him; he treats you like a goddess, devoting himself entirely to your pleasure. You truly feel like he’s become your lover, as if the two of you are the only ones who exist in this moment.
But you’re suddenly reminded of the other’s presence when you’re pulled toward the other side of the bed and into a strong pair of arms. Zoro holds you tightly, muscles bulging as he wraps himself around your frame. He’s shirtless, and his black pants are laying on the ground beside the bed, leaving him in his boxers. You feel his erection press against your back and instinctively rub your ass against it. Just how he likes.
“You’re not doing it right,” he grunts, glaring at a shocked-looking Sanji while he pushes you onto your stomach. You start to say something, but you’re silenced when his rough, calloused hands take hold of your thighs and spread them out, pulling your hips back onto his while his tip pushes into your hole.
You cry out when his cock starts pumping inside you, slamming into your walls at an incredible pace. Your teeth sink into the pillow, muffling your cries of pleasure as the swordsman fucks you deeply, passionately, right in front of the cook. He grunts quietly, letting out short, labored breaths while enjoying the feeling of your walls clenching around his shaft.
“She’s not some… delicate little flower…” he grumbles in between strokes. “You need… to fuck her… properly…”
It was rough and intense, as it always was when you fucked Zoro. But you couldn’t get enough of it. You loved the way he’d manhandle you, tossing you around like a doll into whatever position he wanted. You’d melt when he told you how tight you were, how fucking good it felt to be inside you, how you had the best ass in the Grand Line. He spanks you a couple times, grinning when he hears the surprised little noises you make from the unexpected impact. His fingers run through your hair, then grasp a clump of your locks before pulling back tightly. Your head moves back, forcing you to look Sanji in the eyes as he watches Zoro fuck you into a dizzying headspace. He gawks at you wide-eyed, cheeks pink and cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth.
“Sanji…!” you gasp, earning another spank from Zoro.
“You’re mine, got it?” he sneers into your ear, tugging your hair a little harder. “Say it nice and loud so the shitty cook can hear it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Good. Say it again.”
“I’m yours!” you cry out, feeling Zoro’s cock throb inside you. He speeds up, the steady pumping turning into a wild, frenzied rhythm that is so intense you start seeing stars. Then finally, he explodes inside you, filling your hole with comforting warmth. You can feel him throbbing as he holds your hips, making sure he’s emptied every drop of cum inside you. Making sure Sanji knows who you belong to.
You lay down on your stomach, skin damp with sweat and flushed with heat. But you don’t get to rest for long. You’re pulled into another firm pair of arms that flip you onto your back, forcing you to look your French lover in the eyes despite your guilty conscience telling you to hide. Your eyes dart away, but when a gentle hand takes your chin and pulls it towards him, you bashfully meet his gaze. You expected anger, sadness, resentment… but all you see reflected in those eyes is worry and concern. 
“Ma cœur…” he runs his thumb across your bottom lip, cradling your cheek in his other hand. “Are you alright? Did that idiot hurt you?”
He runs a hand down your chest, flicking your nipples before caressing the soft, supple skin underneath. He gently gropes your breast, coaxing moans and other little sounds from your parted lips before running down your stomach and between your thighs. His fingers play with your clit, teasing it by massaging the hood of your clit. Your moans become louder, your body becomes more desperate for release. Sanji pushes a finger inside you, despite your hole still slick with Zoro’s cum, and curls against your walls until you erupt in an intense orgasm that causes your legs to shake. Zoro had brought you to the peak, but Sanji had pushed you over the edge.
Your cry of pleasure is so loud it makes your throat feel hoarse. Satisfied, Sanji smirks and pulls down his white briefs. It was his turn now. He enters you slowly, carefully, and calmly, asking every now and then, “Does it feel good? Am I going too fast? Are you alright, ma amour?” 
You nod and spread your legs, inviting him in.
His strokes are longer, deeper, more controlled. His dick pulsates within you, the slight curve of his shaft hitting your walls perfectly and spurring you towards another orgasm. He holds your legs at his sides, gazing deeply into your eyes without tearing them away for a moment. You’ve never felt so seen, so vulnerable. You almost forget there’s another person there with you.
It’s not long before you cum again, this time a little harder than before. Sanji cums shortly after, having kept himself in control until this moment. Ladies always came first. That was something he lived by, a motto that made sex with him all the more satisfying. You smile up at him, mirroring back the affectionate grin he’s giving you from above. He fills you with his own cum, pumping into you a few more times as if he was trying to shove his own seed past Zoro’s. He wasn’t going to let the swordsman one-up him. It was his own way of claiming you. 
You’re only given a small respite before the next round. A strong pair of hands grips your ankles and yanks you towards the other side of the bed. Zoro locks eyes with you, brows furrowed in displeasure as he takes in your blissed out expression. He leans forward and kisses you intensely, biting your lower lip while his tongue presses against yours. His teeth sink into your neck, leaving bite marks down to your collar bones prominent enough to see. He’s mid-bite when Sanji crawls on top and pushes him off. The blonde looks pissed as he notes the marks on your skin.
“You’re like a damn animal!” he yells, once again butting heads with the surly swordsman. “This is no way to treat a lady!”
“She likes it, you moron!” Zoro spits back, forehead pressed against Sanji’s. 
“Guys, please…!” You try to placate them, but it only ends with each man taking hold of your hands and pinning them down on the bed next to you.
“I made her cum, twice,” Sanji notes while planting his lips onto your wrist. “How many times did she cum with you, mosshead? Oh, right. Zero.”
“I can make her cum just fine, curlybrow,” Zoro sneers, lacing his rough fingers with yours while nipping at your neck. 
“Oh, yeah?!”
“Yeah,” he says with a smirk.
You feel another pair of fingers push inside your hole and dig into your walls, seeking out the ribbed spot he knows will make you scream. It doesn’t take long for him to find it, and within seconds you’ve reached another climax, an orgasm brought about by his expert hands and the steady way he’s pumping them inside you. He pulls them out and sticks them in your mouth, letting you suck the cum off his chapped skin. You see him smile as he watches your lips encompass his hands. Focused entirely on the feel of his fingers in your mouth, you shudder when you suddenly feel a soft, wet tongue lapping at your clit. And when you look down, you see a mop of blonde hair in between your legs, Sanji’s soft hands holding each of your thighs. He eats you out, his lips kissing and licking every part of your mound. His tongue darts in between your folds, circles around your clit, tastes the entrance of your hole and the puffy lips around it. Still dripping with both sets of cum, he licks that up too, tasting the sweet mixture of you and his arch rival. 
You arch your back and throw back your head, giving him further access to you. He buries his face in your pussy, inhaling the scent while eating you fervently, as if you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted. But as you’re enjoying yourself, something forces your lips apart and shoves itself inside your mouth. The taste of dick and sweat fills your senses. Instinctively, your lips wrap around Zoro’s shaft and take in his massive cock, lips sliding up and down before letting your tongue linger on his tip. The swordsman groans with every soft movement, carefully pumping in and out of your mouth and speeding up only when he’s sure you’re ready to deep throat him. You open your jaw wider, signaling that you’re ready, and within moments he cradles both of your cheeks in hand and fucks into your mouth with ferver. 
The next orgasm shocks your system, sending electric waves through every nerve. You cry out hoarsely, high pitched notes warbling through the air that are muffled by the thick cock in your mouth. The taste of salty cum fills your senses as Zoro finishes; the warmth slides down your throat when you swallow it whole. He pulls out, allowing you to catch your breath. Sanji tears himself away from your pussy, looking at you with a completely blissed out expression before collapsing beside you. The swordsman lays at your other side, squishing you between the two men on a bed that’s only just big enough for the three of you. 
“...Stupid shitty cook…” Zoro grumbles, pulling you into his chest. You can feel his racing heartbeat as your skin presses against his, sticky with sweat and other fluids. He glares at the blonde, who’s finally coming to his senses enough to argue with him again.
“Damn mosshead…” Sanji returns his scowl before grabbing your arm and pulling you against him. His heart is pound against his chest, a steady beat beneath flushed red skin. 
You look over at Sanji, then back at a now snoozing Zoro who still has his arms wrapped around your waist, clinging to you possessively. You hear quiet snoring from behind, and look to see that Sanji has fallen asleep, as well. 
You wondered what this meant for the three of you, if you’d wake up to another round of bickering or if the two of them had come to some sort of silent conclusion. Your own heart races as you consider the future, a selfish part of you hoping this wasn’t just a one time thing despite knowing the trouble it had caused. 
When your own eyelids start to close, you decide that the matter can wait until morning. You’re exhausted, and it would take more than the promise of treasure to tear you away from the two men you loved most in this world.
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gravesdept · 2 days
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♡ # 𓂃 Imagine you being vladimir makarovs right hand man — who he tolerates just a bit more than his other lapdogs, maybe he even lets you speak down to him, informs you on plans you have no business being in on, and lets you push his buttons.
everyone wonders whats just so special about the man whose always by makarovs side, he wonders so just as well as you both take hefty puffs off an old cigar that use to be stashed away in the back of his desk, its awfully hot in the room he thinks looking from the window back towards you who, well, is leaning just a couple inches astray from his face.
from this angle he cant see anything but the light at the end of the cigar, the room of his office fairly dark being only illuminated by light from the skyscrapers windows.
it takes a minute before you pass him back the almost dull blunt, it ends up sitting between his fingers for a bit as he trudges through his thoughts, “this situation is risky, boy, you know that righ’?” although he speaks clearly enough you cannot wrap your head around what he is implying
“not sure I understand.”
at that he puts the cig out on the desk resorting to just crossing his arms “this I mean, us, your not so subtle soldier.” he looks you dead in the eyes now, a look that youve seen men be killed for even witnessing.
its silent and almost peaceful in this small pocket of time “mm wasnt tryin’ to be subtle sir,, y’know pinning after you is no easy task.” you’d say jokingly if the man infront of you hadn’t killed many men whose ranks had rivaled yours in status, instead you stay quiet choosing to move all the bit closer to him in thought, hands resulting to rest in your jacket pockets.
“i could kill you, have you lit on fire for even thinkin such thoughts about me — yet you would just keep coming back, even offering to stand by my side like some kind of lacky in love.” he spits with just a hint of venomous tone “it repulses me even thinkin about it; hey, you fuckin’ in love with me solider?”
the scowl thats always reaching on his pretty face returns just once as he stands straight from leaning on the desk, hes still shorter than you and it only adds to his fuel.
“no m’not, hows that? was it satisfying enough for you?” a lie you half think about closing the distance between you two, but the metal that gets pressed up against your skull is enough assurance to halt the bare thought of movement.
his eyes search yours once more and before you know it your back is being pressed firmly against the desk.
maybe its the sensation from being high or just the adrenaline from this damn heat but you feel very obligated to wrap a hand around the hand thats holding up your ender, again its the post blunt high thats making you see things because his hand totally doesn’t falter when you touch it and it for sure doesn’t let you lower the gun either.
yeaaaa who laced the cigar because his facial expression isn’t in a scowl anymore its almost distraught watching you maneuver the gun to sit behind on the desk, his voice stoping you temporarily “not any further soldier, you’re messin w’ my fuckin head right now, and thats not what you want.”
the look you give him is deafening and its filled with something he cant source.
“what.. are you to decide what I want, are y’ afraid that i might break you?” you’re pushin it yet there it is again that same scowl just a bit deeper than before. its like your a fucking ticking bomb thats just wanting to explode “i'm jus’ waitin for your permission sir, to let me have you”
in another universe you might have been killed at the spot and brutally beaten until unrecognizable.
“do what you’ want, but you'd better make it damn good or i'll have to kill you.” he says backing up until his legs hit his office chair the sqeaking reminding the both of you where you just so happen to be at this hour.
but that is the last thing you’d have ever thought to hear from this oh so difficult man.
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note ;; chat am I cookin even though this kind of out of charcter? ,, I keep blue balling cause I really cant write full fics but we getting there also requests will be opening soon, my messages are open right now if anyone wants to thirst tho.
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