#I also want to go back to Canada so that I could go to the chocolate factory | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonicandjins · 1 year

Text

learning languages | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.

날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold

The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon.

It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking.

Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area.

Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark.

They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels.

It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you.

Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.

Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven.

You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him.

“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”

“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”

“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.

“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”

You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree.

“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him.

Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark.

But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake.

“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”

It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think.

You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English.

“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”

So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.

“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”

“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.

Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought.

Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.

“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea.

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”

“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”

“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”

Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city.

Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep. When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.

The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning.

The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep.

You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone.

It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends.

약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise

When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.

Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.

By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.

It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.

Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.

Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.

Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.

Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.

It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.

Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.

“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.

“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”

“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”

He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”

You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”

Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”

“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”

This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”

“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”

You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”

Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.

Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.

“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”

You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.

“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”

Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”

“It is,” you confess.

Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.

Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.

“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”

He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”

Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.

“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”

한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?

Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.

The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.

Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”

He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.

Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.

“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.

The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”

You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.

“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”

He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”

Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”

You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.

You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.

“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”

You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”

He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”

“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”

You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.

You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”

Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.

“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”

“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.

He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”

You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.

“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”

“That’s mean!” you gasp.

“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.

“Donghyuck!”

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”

You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”

“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.

Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”

The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.

저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic

“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.

It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.

There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.

Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.

“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”

The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.

“She loves you already!” Mark comments.

You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”

“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”

“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”

Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”

Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.

Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“No way,” Mark protests.

“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.

“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”

“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”

Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.

Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.

“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”

Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.

“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”

This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.

“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”

“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”

He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”

“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”

Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.

Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”

“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”

Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”

You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.

“What?” you ask.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.

먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.

Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.

Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.

“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”

You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.

“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”

You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.

Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.

It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.

And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.

“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”

“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”

Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”

You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.

“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”

Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.

“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”

“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”

It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.

“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”

“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.

Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”

“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.

Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.

You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.

You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.

It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.

The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”

삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle

Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.

Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.

SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.

“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.

You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”

“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“

Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.

“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”

“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”

Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.

The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.

“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.

“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”

The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.

Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.

Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.

The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.

“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”

The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.

“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”

“Love… triangles?” you repeat.

“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”

You gulp.

“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”

This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.

“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”

You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”

Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.

It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?

You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.

Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?

You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.

Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.

You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.

Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”

Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.

“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”

“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”

A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.

“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.

“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.

“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”

Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”

But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.

Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.

You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.

“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.

Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.

You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.

Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.

You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”

Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.

“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”

“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”

“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”

“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”

Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.

“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.

Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.

When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.

“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”

So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.

When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.

Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.

Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.

You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.

“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”

Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.

“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.

Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”

“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”

“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.

“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”

You laugh but urge him to continue.

“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”

“What does Mark have—”

“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”

Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.

“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”

You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”

일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?

It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”

“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”

“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”

As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”

You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”

“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”

Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”

“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”

The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”

“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.

Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”

That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.

“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”

You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”

You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”

“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.

Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.

“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”

Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”

계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons

When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.

From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.

The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.

The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.

But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.

In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.

Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.

“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.

“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.

Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”

Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.

Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.

The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).

Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.

“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”

Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”

Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”

“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”

Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”

Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”

Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”

“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.

Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.

“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”

“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”

“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.

Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”

“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.

“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”

You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”

It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.

With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”

Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?

Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.

오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand

Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.

You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.

His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.

It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.

The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.

You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).

Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.

Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.

Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.

“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.

Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.

His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.

“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”

Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.

You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.

“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”

Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.

“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.

천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo) - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home

Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.

You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.

Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.

Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.

Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.

Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.

Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.

They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.

You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.

“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.

“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”

“Please speak slowly.”

“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”

“I can’t understand you.”

“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”

“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”

Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”

“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”

“Huh?”

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”

“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”

Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.

The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.

You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”

“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”

Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”

“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”

Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.

“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””

“Shit like?” Mark asks.

You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”

“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”

Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”

You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.

“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”

You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”

“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”

You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”

“Back home?”

You smile. “Yes. Back home.”

갈망 (galmang) - longing

It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.

You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.

The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.

The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.

The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.

Of course, she knows.

Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.

Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.

They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.

“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.

“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”

“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”

Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”

Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”

It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.

But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.

예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected

The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.

You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.

You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.

미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.

“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.

“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”

Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.

“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”

“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”

He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.

“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”

You keep your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”

“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”

“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”

Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.

“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”

“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.

“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.

“But now like how you are a part of me.”

Oh.

“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”

He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.

“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”

Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”

Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”

But he doesn’t have to.

“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”

Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”

It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.

The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.

Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.

You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.

And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.

Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.

Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:

Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.

It’s only the beginning, it seems.

The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.

It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.

#nct fanfiction #haechan smut #haechan fluff #haechan fic #haechan au #haechan scenarios #nct dream #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck fix #donghyuck fic #donghyuck smut #donghyuck angst #haechan x reader #faye's moving castle

4K notes · View notes

flemingsfreckles · 1 month

Text

Be a Good Teammate

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader

Words: 3.4k

Preview: After Jessie misses her penalty in the Gold Cup semi final, she’s found practicing kicks by her old friend and college teammate.

Warnings: some cursing, a little angst, but nothing else too crazy.

A/N: I haven’t written anything in maybe 4-5 years. Recently fallen back into reading and then watching the Canada/US game sparked some inspiration and here we are writing again.

You could hear her before you saw her. You had come out of the dressing room well after the rest of your teammates. They hardly showered just throwing on fresh clothes in a rush to begin their celebration for moving on to the finals of the Gold Cup. The stadium had fallen silent with the exception of a faint noise coming from the far end of the tunnel toward the pitch.

It was the repetitive sound of a ball being kicked followed shortly by the swish of the net. One after the next, boot on ball, swish of the net, boot on ball swish of the net. Working like a clock, a perfect machine, that was until the sound of the net was replaced by the ringing of the crossbar and the frustration of the kicker.

“Stupid fucking penalty” a frustrated voice rang out. The sound of the voice halted your steps, you knew that voice. Jessie. You quickly recognize the voice as your former best friend and UCLA teammate. Once you hear her, you quickly realized what was happening.

You’d seen her do this when you played together, anything from missed headers, missed passes, missed shots, and now with missed penalties. Jessie was known for being a hard worker, her focus and determination was admirable by her teammates and led her to earning the right to wear the captain's armband. She pushed herself to be better and while it was that mentality that turned her into one of Canada’s best, it also came with a whole other side.

She was hard on herself, more so than anyone else, and she took it to extremes. You had watched in college as she would spend hours watching film of her mistakes, tearing her performances apart, nitpicking every step she took. Criticizing every mistake to the point of obsession. One bad touch or one missed scoring opportunity would cloud her brain, unable to focus on anything else until she could fix that mistake, that mistake was all that would matter to Jessie.

“Be a good teammate to yourself Jessie.” Those were the words you told her constantly in college when you’d find her overworking herself. Running extra laps after an already grueling practice. Taking extra shots after a game, refusing to stop the repetitions until they were in her eyes, perfect. “Treat yourself how you treat all your other teammates, you support us, you provide positive corrections, you're kind. Talk to yourself the same way you talk with me or anyone else on this team, be a good teammate to yourself.”

And that’s how you knew exactly what Jessie was doing out on that field. She was retaking her penalty from earlier in the game, the one she had kicked into the arms of your team’s goalkeeper, letting the young and your teammates erupt in celebration behind her as she walked with her head down to her team’s bench.

Now you are stuck with your brain telling you to let her be, she’s not going to want to see you, especially on a night like tonight. Just go celebrate with your teammates, you thought.

You and Jessie had been close in college, so close most of your teammates were convinced you two were secretly dating. And to be fair to them, you wish you’d made a move on Jessie but you didn’t. Too worried about losing your friend and still trying to figure out yourself in the process. Now your college days were years behind you and you both moved away after graduation to play professionally, her with Chelsea and now in Portland and you with Bayren Munich and more recently with Seattle.

Your communication with your former best friend had rapidly declined over the years, you both got caught up in your new lives, new clubs, and Jessie had gotten a girlfriend. It wasn’t public information at the time but you were close enough that she shared the news, gushing about the girl over one of your nightly phone call. You knew deep down that girl is what pushed you away. Even though you knew it was never going to work out between you and Jessie, it didn’t make hearing about her new girl any less painful.

So you pulled back, with going from long facetime calls, to short catch ups, to texts. It seemed mutual as Jessie followed suit reaching out less frequently. She figured you were busy and had forgotten about her, seeing you make new friends in your new teams. These days you were lucky if you saw a “nice game” “congrats on the win” or even “happy birthday” come across your phone from the Canadian.

No bad blood stood between you two that she was aware of, except for maybe right now as you stood wearing the crest of the team that had just ended her tournament hopes.

While your brain was telling you to head for the parking lot and leave, forgetting you heard her taking the shots, your heart refused to let your feet move in any direction but toward the pitch. As you turned the corner she came into view. The bright white 17 with FLEMING printed neatly across the back of her red jersey became visible as you watched her set up her next round of shots.

Now you were frozen again, standing just inside the edge of the pitch, only your eyes moving, watching as she placed a ball, moved backward, took a deep breath and took the shot. It sailed into the upper left of the net. You watched as Jessie once again stepped back to ready herself, having already placed the next ball while you were watching her first one go in the net. Again she took a breath and fired into the net. She continued just as you had heard her before, booting the ball into the net. Over and over and over.

The stadium that had previously been filled with fans shouting, coaches calling out, music, liveliness was now eerily silent, just the sound of Jessie methodical work taking place. You weren’t even sure how long you had been standing there watching her, you’d maybe seen her take 10 or 12 shots, all screaming into the back of the net. The systematic movement and sound had lulled you into zoning out, only snapped back into reality when you realized the noise had stopped.

Jessie was moving toward the goal, collecting all the balls she had kicked, only now you could hear her mumbling to herself. Unable to make out what she was saying, you watched as she continued moving all the balls back to start her drill once again. She had turned around, her face more visible to you, eyes still down looking at the balls she was kicking. You could see her cheeks were still bright red and her skin was shiny with sweat, or maybe it was rain. Her mumbling had turned into her regular voice, allowing you to make out every couple of words.

“idiot…if I just made it… don’t deserve this…” You watched her rip the captain's armband from her bicep, throwing it aside.

You felt your chest grow tight, seeing and hearing Jessie so angry at herself was painful. She was the kindest soul, she had been your first friend at school and one of the only ones who stuck around through all 4 years. the only thing she didn’t deserve is to feel this way about her performance.

Maybe i should leave, you thought, let her work through this, she’ll be okay with some time, how much can you really help at this point, it’s over, there’s no point in making her more upset and,

“FUCK” Jessie’s voice intrudes into your thoughts as she punts the last ball with such anger that instead of landing just outside the box like the rest, she sends it sailing, landing only a couple of feet from you. You look at the ball rolling toward your feet, being slowed greatly by the wet grass.

“Sorry,” Jessie hollers with a wave and a different, more polite tone in her voice. She begins jogging over to you, “I didn’t realize they were coming to do pitch maintenance already, I’ll pack up and go-“ she starts to ramble as you realize she hasn’t noticed that it’s you who is standing in front of her.

You move your eyes down at the grass, kicking some up unsure of what to do now while you wait for her to reach you and realize you’re in fact not the maintenance crew.

“What are you doing here?” Her accusatory tone returns and you look up to meet her eyes. Just as you’d seen from across the field her cheeks remained bright red, a layer of sweat making her whole face shine. Her lips are slightly parted and her breathing is quick. Her brown eyes that you used to stare at everyday are now puffy, as though she shed some tears following the game and you can’t help but stare for a second at her black eye. She cocks her head at you and you realize she’s waiting for an answer.

“Um, I just… I heard you. And I just wanted to check on you,” you realize you should’ve spent some of the time you were watching her kick thinking of what to say to her.

“I don’t need your pity party,” Jessie scoffs at you “don’t you have some celebrating to do?”

“I’m not here to pity you,” her change in tone makes you get defensive.

“Then what? You’re here to tell me it’s okay? That it’s fine it’s just a penalty, and maybe it feels that way to you,” she stabs her index finger into your chest, her touch surprises you. Both being midfielders you had contact during the game but that was different.

Before you were just the opponent in the same way she was yours, you were aware of her but in that moment she was just Jessie Fleming, a Canada’s midfielder who you needed to get the ball from. Now she was Jess, the girl you were roommates with, the girl whose shoulder you fell asleep on during a long travel day, the girl who you tutored in calculus while she in return tutored you in physics. Her whole face now just inches from yours. You share a similar height with the midfielder, leaving you eye to eye. You can feel her breath as she continues.

“You made your penalty, and you don’t have to wear the armband, you don’t have to sit with the expectation of never missing a penalty, but I do. And you didn’t let your whole team down, I did. So maybe it seems like not a big deal to you because you’re not the one going home!”

You feel like sinking into one of the puddles on the grass, this was a bad idea, you shouldn’t have bothered her. Before you can think of something to say Jessie starts again.

“Nothing? You have nothing to say to me? Then again, why did you come out here? To gloat? Because last time I checked, we’re not even friends anymore and that’s no fault of mine, that was all you, you ignored me, so why even bother? Just leave me alone, go away.”

Her words telling you that she doesn’t even consider you a friend anymore, sting. Sure it was nowhere near like it was before but you still would classify Jessie as a friend. You have every urge to tell her the truth, that you couldn’t stand seeing her with someone else and to protect yourself you took a step back. You wanted to tell her you never meant for it to silence your relationship, you just wanted to respect hers and that meant distancing yourself. Instead, you opted with the easy way out, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” her brown eyes roll as she turns away from you.

“Jess, wait,” the short form of her name falling out of your mouth on accident. Hoping she’ll stay, you reach out grabbing her wrist preventing her from turning all the way away from you.

“I promise I didn’t come here to give you pity, honestly I’m not sure what I’m doing here.” You feel her shake your grasp from her wrist but instead of leaving she turns back facing you. “I just, I heard you and, I,” You try looking into her eyes but she’s staring at her hands that are fidgeting with the hem of her jersey.

“You already said that.” Jessie cuts you off

“I know, I know, I just,” you bring your hands up to cover your eyes rubbing your fingers along your forehead, hoping you’ll be able to squeeze the right words out of your brain. “I think I wanted to see you.” You admit finally, hoping it’s not too much at the moment.

“We just played 120 minutes against each other, you had plenty of chances to see me.” She throws back at you, her brown eyes still avoiding yours.

You begin to feel a tightness in your throat, a feeling all too familiar to you, making it harder to breathe, you start blinking away the tears that are trying to surface. You’re grateful she isn’t looking at your face. you recognize the same emotions that you felt when she had told you she was in a relationship.

Jessie had been so excited to tell you, and you tried your best to act excited for her, you really did. You had forced yourself to ask questions you really didn’t want to know the answers to. Asking about their first date, first kiss, other firsts, what Jessie liked about her, providing the typical best friend interrogation. What Jessie didn’t know was when she had hung up the phone, telling you she had to go as she was going to spend the night at her girlfriend’s, the tightness had taken over and you burst into tears.

In the moment it didn’t make sense to you, you summed it up to missing her and missing spending time with her. It took a couple months to realize your feelings were ones of jealousy. You wanted to be the girl she spent her nights with. You wanted Jessie to call up Janine and gush about you, not some other girl. And that’s when you started to pull away.

“That’s not the same, I, I just wanted to see you,” you let out a shaky breath, trying to relax before tears spill over, “I miss you.” The words come out as a whisper, almost quiet enough that you hope Jessie didn’t hear and you can move on.

A silence falls between the two of you, Jessie’s fingers are still playing with the hem of her shirt, her eyes glued to them. You look up, staring at what would be a starry night had it not been for the rain clouds covering the sky. It feels like time stops, neither of you moving, no one says anything. You stand there, looking up, while Jessie stands, looking down.

“Why now?” Jessie’s voice cracks, you can’t tell for a second if she’s looking for an answer but she continues on, “You could’ve called, or at least texted.”

“It takes you 3 to 5 business days to respond to a text.” A small laugh comes out as you say the sentence, hoping it’ll lighten the mood.

“I know, but for you,” she pauses slightly, “I would’ve answered in a heartbeat.”

Her words catch you off guard and you swing your head down. You unexpectedly meet Jessie's eyes. She’s got one hand running through her damp hair, the other resting by her side. Her stare feels intense, being under her watch gives you a feeling that sits somewhere between comfort and cowardice.

You’re lost for words, racking your brain for the right thing to say. Part of you says fuck it, tell her you love her, that you want her in every way, tell her you were jealous, you couldn’t stand seeing her with another girl, you want her to be yours and only yours.

The other and far more logical part of you says push it down, you don’t want to scare her off, you want your friend back, even if it means hearing about her girlfriend.

You’re saved from having to make a choice between the angel and devil that split your brain as your phone buzzed and a slew of texts from Lynn and Midge came in. You quickly grab your phone from your sweatpant pocket, turning the ringer off to silence the tone from going off again. You quickly skim the texts which consist of variations of ‘where are you’. You catch the time at the top of your screen realizing the game had ended nearly 2 hours ago. Sure, you had done some media, showered, and changed, but you hadn’t realized how late it was and just how long you had been standing around either watching or talking with Jessie.

“You should probably join them.” Jessie says, almost as if she could see your texts from your teammates asking when you were going to be at the bar.

“Yeah I probably should, I didn’t realize the time. The last thing I need is them sending a search party and finding me with the enemy.” You nudge her with your elbow. She gives you a quick tight lipped smile.

“I’ll uh, I’ll see you around?” You add in a raise in your voice in hopes she takes that as an invitation.

“I don’t know,” Jessie pauses, eyebrows creasing as she thinks of what to say next. “It’s just, I’m dealing with a lot right now, moving, captain responsibilities, some personal things. I just don’t know if I can add another thing on my plate right now. Maybe give me some time?” Her response isn’t the one you wanted, but you realize it’s better than a complete shutdown on her end. At least some small part of her was open to letting you back in.

“Of course, I understand the moving countries part, I mean. The rest of your stuff I don’t know about, I mean the personal stuff, and then the captain part.” You find yourself rambling at her. “But yeah that’s fine. I’ll be going.” You point your thumb in the direction of the tunnel.

She turns away, this time you let her walk away. You watch her for a moment before turning yourself and heading back to the tunnel toward your car. Just when you reach the start of the tunnel you hear it again. The sound of Jessie’s boot kicking the ball and the sound of the ball hitting the net. You turn around watching as she grabs another ball between her hands, rolls it around and then bends down to place it.

“Hey Fleming,” you call to her as she releases the ball on the ground and starts to map out her steps. You watch as she turns back over her shoulder locking eyes with you, raising her eyebrows nonverbally acknowledging your call, “Be a good teammate to yourself.”

You carry on to the parking lot, picking up your phone and calling Lynn to let her know you were leaving the stadium now. While you were too distracted on the phone, what you didn’t realize was the absence of the sound of Jessie kicking the ball.

Your words had caught her off guard, she hadn’t heard it in a few years, you last said it to her after she had a rough game at Chelsea. The simple phrase brought back feelings surrounding you that she had pushed down for a while now. She stood, staring at the ball she had just placed, taking a deep breath like she did before every penalty. Only this time, instead of stepping toward the ball with force, she simple walked toward it, picked it up and headed to grab the bag and clean up. She realized she had punished herself enough, the loss still hurt, but with your words and the smile on your face as you said it fresh in her mind, it hurt a little less.

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #canwnt #portland thorns #canxnt #woso x reader #woso imagine

419 notes · View notes

borathae · 6 months

Text

"He asked for two things. Your strap and to be treated with care. You can't say no to him. Not when he looks so adorable with his pretty, sparkly doe eyes gazing at you and his dainty, little waist fitting perfectly between your fingers."

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, winter holiday!AU, Smut, BDSM

Warnings: sub!Jungkook, Mommy Dom!Reader, he makes her cum against her will (with consent obviously), and she gives him some spanks as "punishment", that's the only rougher part 'cause otherwise this story is very soft, he dresses up for her in a jockstrap & leather harness, he also wears bunny ears & a tail buttplug, emotionally intense love making, Lotus position, pegging, praise, good boy kink, she calls him slut but in an adoring way, loving dirty talk, voice kink, rimjob, face sitting, oral (f.receiving), 69nin, handjob, nipple play & sucking for both, nipple clamps with chains + choker, multiple orgasms (f. & m.receiving), his orgasms are very intense, he's deep in subspace, subby boy tears, the softest aftercare, they're in love and kinky

Wordcount: 8.5k

a/n: i wanna give him the world. he is my babyboy and i wanna coddle him and love him and give him all the attention in the world! my cutie pookie :( enjoy besties, i fucking love him 🤍 ps: these are two ideas from Kinktober 22 which i turned into one ruining smut :(

You and Jungkook were on vacation. It was a cold destination this time around. Canada in the winter. Jungkook rented a cozy wooden lodge with a view of the mountains and lakes. The bedroom was located at the best spot of the house with one wall being entirely made out of glass and a view of the starry sky. You could also close the blinds, so you and Jungkook have been sleeping in on most days.

Work has been left behind in Seoul. Jungkook didn’t even take his work phone nor laptop with him and you didn’t even think twice about packing your study books.

You have been neglecting each other lately, not willingly, but because life is stressful and cruel. So you swore to each other to make this holiday about two things. Nourishing your relationship and relaxing. Both things have been going splendidly.

You sleep in, cuddle and make out, go for breakfast in the resort’s restaurant, either go skiing or use the resort’s thermal spas and then let the evening play out however you feel like.

Tonight you felt like going to bed with a good horror book and Jungkook felt like using the bathtub. The book is amazing. It’s scary and totally captivates you.

The bedroom door opens, in steps Jungkook.

“I’m back.”

You don’t notice him at first as the book completely engrosses you.

Jungkook struts to your side of the bed and stops.

“Hello”, he coos.

No reaction from you. You are completely lost.

He huffs out air and pouts. He really wants your attention.

He tries by calling your name, then your petname. Both don’t work.

“Mommy?” he tries next, tapping your shoulder.

“Yes Bunny?” your attention is on him instantly. You look at him, “oh wow.”

Jungkook is wearing a skin-tight jock strap in white which truly accentuates the shape of his dick. He paired it with a white leather torso harness and a pair of nipple clamps. Silver chains are tangling from them, connecting with a white leather collar which he seemed to have pulled tight enough that he naturally holds his head high.

“Bunny…” you choke out, placing the book aside without bothering to use a bookmark. Yes, this is how truly mesmerised your sweet husband has you.

A pair of floppy bunny ears is tangling from his head. Jungkook turns for your viewing pleasure, revealing his plump buttocks and the fluffy bunny tail between them. Judging from its position, it’s attached to a buttplug.

“Holy shit Bunny, you look so sexy. Bunny”, you gasp and get on your knees, reaching for him greedily.

Jungkook turns again, allowing you to pull him closer by his waist.

“Bunny. Oh my god, Bunny.”

He giggles, pulling a little pose.

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it? Of course I like it. I, I fucking love it. Holy shit, you look so sexy. Bunny”, you babble, running your hands all over him. His hips, his waist and stomach, his sides and chest, his arms and shoulders. You can’t get enough of him.

Jungkook tingles from the touches, watching you with half-lidded eyes. This is the kind of attention he wanted from you. All of it and all of it and all of it. He’s so greedy for it.

“You look so handsome. Oh Bunny. Is that what you were up to? Did you even take a bath?”

“No”, Jungkook confesses and snickers, “I lied so I could prepare the surprise.”

“Wow, you’re such a sneaky Bunny. I never would have figured. Gosh look at your ears”, you say, playing with them carefully, "I’m gonna burst, this is the cutest thing ever. You’re my actual Bunny now."

“Mh-hm I am”, Jungkook says, and gets on bed. He does a little bunny jump, making you laugh with it. He laughs himself, doing it again with a cute butt wiggle at the end.

“You’re too adorable. Oh my goshyoucutieyou”, you lull your words as you press them out through gritted teeth. You squish his cheeks, frowning deeply, “I’m gonna squish you to death”, you growl, acting as if you were squeezing his face even if you apply not an ounce of pressure. The cuteness aggression is hitting you hard. You love this man so abysmally much that you are angry.

“Mommy, stop it”, Jungkook giggles, stubbing your palm with his nose.

“No, you stop it. You’re so handsome and cute that it’s making me mad.”

“No Mommy, don’t be mad at me”, Jungkook pleads and pouts.

“You’re so cute. Fuck, I’m done for”, you say, dropping into your pillow with your arm thrown over your eyes, “I need a minute. You’re too much.”

Jungkook feels so good that it gets difficult to stay still in one place. He wants to bounce around and giggle. It feels so good to be your husband!

Jungkook loves your attention so much. You give the best reactions to his surprises. Jungkook always imagines how you may react to them, but then you always surpass it. He won’t ever grow tired of being your only center of attention and praise and heart eyes. All of it. Jungkook wants all of it.

He bounces on the mattress in little movements, closing in on you that way until he can climb on your lap and place his hands on each side of your head.

You drop your arm from your eyes, looking up at him. The bunny ears tangle, the chains of the nipple clamps do as well. The contrast between his cute headgear and the sexy nipple accessories makes you weak in the knees. And that says a lot because you are currently lying down.

You reach up and twirl the chains. Jungkook shifts, feeling the slight tug. It tingles like crazy.

“What am I supposed to do with you, mhm?” you speak to him in your fond Dom voice.

Jungkook loves this voice so much, fighting the urge to moan like you trained him to do. Not willingly of course, but Jungkook realised that whenever you talk in this voice and he makes pretty sounds, you praise him even better.

“You’re looking so cute with your little bunny ears, but then you're dressed like such a slut.”

Jungkook moans softly, arching his back.

“See? That’s what I mean. You’re such a cutie and yet you’re such a slut”, you coo and tug on the chain.

“Mommy”, Jungkook is arching his back again, sticking out his butt.

“Mhm, Bunny? What do you want me to do with you?”

“Peg me.”

“Peg you? Is that why you're wearing a pretty tail for me?”

“Yes, Mommy. I, I cleaned out and then prepared myself for you”, he says and climbs off your lap just to turn around and show off his butt this way. He is resting on his feet, sticking out his butt as best as possible. He wiggles his hips, looking over his shoulder.

“Mhm look at you. The tail fits you so well Bunnybaby.”

“It’s really deep, but not as deep as your cock could go”, he says and turns back to you. He sits in perfect posture, tilting his head to the side, which forces his bunny ears to flop cutely. He runs his hands up your body until he can rest them on each side of your head. He lowers himself, letting his pretty eyes run over your face, “I want your cock so bad, Mommy.”

You twist the sheets and speak through gritted teeth, “the things I want to do to you, holy shit.”

“Mommy…” Jungkook sighs and chases you. You tilt your head up, meeting him in the middle. The kiss feels so good to both of you. Moans mix with each other, lips know exactly how to move and your fingers dig into his dainty waist instantly. He fits so perfectly between your hands. His skin is soft and warm while the leather straps of the harness are rough. The contrast drives you crazy. He feels so fucking good to hold.

Jungkook mewls into your mouth. He lowers himself to his elbows just so he can be closer to you. His fingers shift from the pillow to the crown of your head, giving you a gentle yet greedy massage. Your touch feels so good. Jungkook became so needy as he prepared himself for you and now his skin is extra sensitive. He hopes that you never stop touching him.

You run your fingers from his waist to his buttocks, feeling them up greedily. The jockstrap pushes them up and makes them feel extra plumb. You need to squeeze them. Once. Twice. The desire is too big. You land a little spank with both hands. Just harsh enough that his butt wiggles.

Jungkook squeaks and flinches, breaking the kiss with a shy giggle.

“Mommy”, he gasps, scrunching his nose.

“My Bunny”, you rasp, gazing up at him as your fingers knead his buttocks, “my pretty, sexy Bunny.”

“Yeah, I’m your Bunny”, he says and cups your cheeks to pull you back into the kiss.

You allow him gladly, giving him a chance to think that he is controlling the kiss. He’s so good in showing you the tempo and level of passion he currently needs. You can busy yourself with feeling him up. That’s so much more fun either way. You intentionally leave out his tail for now, knowing that this will make him impatient in the long run. And when Jungkook gets impatient, he becomes a whiney, squirmy mess and you love that state of his'. You dance your hands to his hips and up his waist. Just to the middle of it, then you run them to his back to feel up the harness there. The straps and metal hooks are so hard in contrast to his soft, perfect body.

You linger especially long on the spot where four straps meet and create a small opening in the middle of them. It exposes Jungkook’s spine and you can’t stop tracing it and scratching his skin on each side of it.

Jungkook breaks the kiss after a few seconds, sighing his words, “this feels so good.”

“You’re so soft there.”

“Oh god”, he shudders, pressing himself closer, “Mommy, I want to be treated gently tonight.”

You smile, running your fingers to his neck just so you can play with his undercut.

“You’re my precious prince, Bunny. You can get whatever you want.”

“Then I want to be fucked and loved and, and get all your attention.”

“You’re already getting loved, Bunny”, you whisper, swirling your fingers to his shoulders, “and you’ve got all my attention”, you add as you feel up his choker until you reach the hook where the nipple chains connect with it.

“Then I want more. More and more”, he says, rolling his hips on your lap, “oh god”, he chokes out, chasing your lips. He is still talking as he is kissing you, resulting in messy, amazing kisses, “I’m imagining that your strap’s already there, Mommy. I want to be filled with you so bad.”

“You’re so greedy”, you chuckle fondly, kissing him back with your heart racing unbearably. Sometimes you wonder if there will ever come a day where it will beat a little less for him. You always come to the conclusion that there won’t ever come such a day. On the contrary, day by day, your heart is racing faster and faster for this man.

You trace the chains until you reach the clamps. You outline them, going slow and careful to make sure you remember the feel of them and get him squirmy in the process. And it works. Oh it works too well. Just moments later and Jungkook arches his back to get closer to your touch. The passionate kiss breaks because he needed to be whiney.

“My nipples are sensitive.”

“I know, Bunny”, you coo, flicking the small hoop which connects the chain to the clamps.

“Please touch them. I, I made the clamps tight for you.”

“For me?” still no touch. Just gentle play with the chains to give him a little stimulation.

“Yes to, ah”, he chases your lips, speaks as he does, “to make my nipples swollen for you.”

“You’re such a good boy, Bunny”, you praise, touching his waist. You give him a little push, forcing him to scoot back on your lap so you could sit up. He is taller than you like this, looking down at you with big, sparkly eyes and his hands on your shoulders.

You give him a fond smile and tug him closer, lowering your lips to his right nipple.

“Oh my god”, Jungkook gasps, throwing his hand over his mouth. Like this, his arm cages in your head, giving you a sense of comfort. He squeezes his eyes shut, moaning into his hand.

The nipple clamps grip most of his dainty nipples, leaving your mouth their very tip to explore. You don’t mind. This part has always been the most sensitive for Jungkook and you can wiggle your tongue between parts of the clamps as well to explore his heated up nipple.

His hips are squirmy on your lap, his back keeps chasing you in small arches.

You abandon his right nipple for the sake of his left. You don’t want it to feel left out. Jungkook wants all your attention and you are hellbent on giving it to him.

“Mommy, oh my god, you feel so good”, Jungkook moans, dropping his hand from his mouth to instead cradle the back of your head. He slings his other arm around you, hugging you gently. He buries his nose in the crown of your head, giving you small kisses between his needy moans. This is better than anything he could have imagined.

His cock is so hard in the jockstrap, his hole keeps clenching around the tail plug and reminding him how needy he is. Your tongue is lapping at his nipple, your lips are kissing it. You change between his left and right, making him wish that he could melt with you. It feels so good.

“Thank you, Mommy. You make me feel so good”, he mewls, trembling blissfully.

His tail keeps poking your lap. You can’t feel its fluffiness as you are wearing sweats. It’s getting harder and harder to stay clothed. His body is burning up and it is torture not to feel his skin against yours.

“Shit, Bunny”, you lull against his chest, lapping at his nipple greedily, “I wanna feel your skin on mine. It gets so hard not to.”

“I can help you undress.”

“You’re such a good boy”, you croak and kiss his nipple one last time because then you lift your head and arms, “do it quickly.”

Jungkook follows obediently. He takes off your jumper, working carefully in order not to hurt your face. He throws it on the floor, letting his eyes run over the white tank top you are wearing. You are going braless and the top is cut in a way which makes your tits look especially pretty. Your nipples are poking through the material, making Jungkook gulp.

“Yes, the tanktop too”, you say, pulling him back to reality.

“Sorry, your tits look so good in the top”, he mumbles in a raspy voice and begins undressing you. It’s the voice he gets when you affect him deeply in a way other than your touches. When your looks and body mesmerise him and drive him crazy, he talks in this deep, raspy voice. You’re obsessed with it.

He throws the top on the floor and cups your breasts instantly, playing with your nipples gently. His palms feel warm and his skin soft. Jungkook has the most perfect hands, manly yet with the most tender of skin. His touch feels so good.

“Mommy, you’re so pretty”, he is back to whining. How adorable.

“Thank you, Bunny. You’re making me feel so good right now”, you say, arching into him.

“So pretty”, he whispers and leans down to suck on your nipples. He doesn’t stay on one for too long, sucking and licking them eagerly. It feels fantastic. His mouth is so incredibly warm and wet.

“Bunny, my pants”, you are sighing the words, ending it with a breathy chuckle, “focus for me, come on.”

“I’m sorry, please don’t be mad. I love your nipples so much”, he says, kissing your neck as an apology. You roll your head to the side, allowing him better access. He is purring as he kisses you, suckling on your skin every now and then to really make it tingle.

“You’re too greedy, Bunny.”

He giggles shyly, “sorry”, he mumbles, earning himself a little buttocks squeeze and a fond chuckle. He lifts his lips from your neck, crawling off your lap to take off your sweats. You lie down for it to make it easier for him, watching him with fond eyes.

Jungkook throws your sweats on the floor as well, running his eyes over your exposed body.

“Wow”, he whispers, touching your thighs, “Mommy, you are so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Bunnybaby”, you say fondly, wiggling your head into a more comfortable position. Like this, you are resting on two pillows, allowing you to see him better, “get on my lap and turn around for me.”

He follows without hesitation. He is resting on all fours, giving view to his bubble butt and the white fluffy tail between his buttocks.

“Closer.”

He listens, shimmying up your body until his knees are resting on each side of your waist and his toes almost touch your arms.

“There we go, I gotta really bask in you”, you praise, “the tail looks so real”, you say.

“I feel so pretty with it”, he confesses, gasping softly when he feels your fingertips dance up his inner thighs.

“You are so pretty with it, Bunny”, you say, feeling up the jockstrap on the spot where his balls meet his taint. He’s so hot to the touch.

Jungkook twists the sheets, moving his butt closer to you in reaction. The touch is just one small change away from where he needs it most. He is so desperate for more.

You touch the tail, give it a gentle squeeze and a little flick with your fingers.

“So soft”, you say and laugh softly, “shit, it’s so cute how it’s just sitting there.”

“When you touch it, I feel it move”, he says and moans, “please Mommy, don’t tease me please.”

You wiggle his tail, making him press out another plea for more. He’s so pretty when he begs.

“Such a pretty tail”, you coo and grab it, “can Mommy take it out?”

“Yes Mommy, please”, he allows you, clenching his hole in excitement.

“It’s a shame to take it out though. You look so pretty with it”, you say and tug on it, purring in enjoyment when the plug starts slipping out without resistance. He’s so good for you, “no clenching. You’re seriously the best boy”, you say, rewarding him with a slow fuck. There’s the smallest natural resistance whenever you reach the girthiest part at the bottom, but it’s barely noticeable. Jungkook is stretched out so well for you.

“Oh god”, Jungkook gets out, placing his hands on your shins and arching his back. The plug is big enough that you are fucking it against his prostate and it feels like heaven to him. When he walked, he felt the plug shift inside him and said sensations continued as he sat on your lap and made out with you. It resulted in his prostate slowly getting more sensitive and for the current slow fuck to feel almost unbearable.

“It feels so good”, he moans, dropping his head. His floppy bunny ears tangle weakly, showing just how ruined you’ve got him.

“Come closer for me.”

Jungkook obeys.

“There we go, such a good boy”, you praise and reward him by pulling out the plug. His hole gapes for a second, before fluttering closed. Lube squeezes out and runs down to his balls, soaking the jockstrap in the process.

“Please back”, Jungkook begs, clenching his greedy hole. He spent so long being plugged up, that having nothing inside feels like agony.

“You weren’t lying, Bunny. This plug is huge”, you rasp, eyeing it hungrily. It is the perfect hybrid between plug and dildo. Three inches in length, shaped just like a cock with veins and a bulbous head, it ends in a girthy base and a smaller shaft where his rim sits. The white fluff of the tail is soaked in lube where it was pressed against his hole, “that must have made you so desperate. Mhm, Bunny?”

“Yes”, he mewls, arching his back to get closer to you, “please, Mommy don’t tease me please.”

“You’re cute”, you say and place the toy aside. You grab his buttocks and use your grip to pull him onto your face.

“Ah!” he squeaks, lifting himself quickly, “sorry!”

“You did the right thing. Fucking sit on me again”, you order him, tugging him down.

“Oh go-god”, he falls with a shaky moan, squeezing his thighs around your waist when his hole presses down on your tongue, “Mommy, thank you….”

You are sticking out your tongue, wrapping your arms around his middle to move his hips for him. His hole is grinding on the flat of your tongue, getting cleaned from the lube whilst at the same time burning up in pleasure. He tastes artificially sweet at first until his natural taste begins to linger on your tongue. You love it like nothing else, licking him greedily.

“Mommy”, he moans, falling into pleasure he thought never to experience. Which is quite ironic to say because you made him sit on your face a million times before. He should know how it feels to ride your face and yet he still can’t ever believe that it is happening when it does. It always feels like the first time, leaving him dizzy and short of breath.

“Fuck”, your growl vibrates against his sensitive rim, “you taste so good”, you get out and pull him back down, tightening your arms around him as your tongue begins lapping at his hole. It sounds wet and sloppy, feels like paradise.

Jungkook has to gasp and tremble. His hands slip from your legs against his will, forcing him to catch balance in the sheets. He grabs them and twists them, choking out your name while his nose scrunches up in pleasure. His legs are shaking. It’s embarrassing that they are so quick to shake, but it feels so good.

“I can’t get enough of you”, your voice is like electricity against his hole. It’s moments like this, when Jungkook is reminded that he has the biggest kink for your voice. He clenches his hole rhythmically, feeling you growl into him. His clenching intensifies, forcing you to break away, “relax for me. Come on, be my good boy.”

He obeys instantly. He can’t be a bad boy when you’re talking like this. You slip your arms from his middle and place your hands on each of his buttocks, using the leverage to pull him apart. His hole – once so dainty and small – opens up and exposes itself to you. His rim looked so tiny at first, but reveals its true readiness the farther you part him. Jungkook sighs and trembles, letting you know how good it feels to be so freely exposed. He doesn’t feel embarrassed about being so vulnerably open in front of you. As a matter of fact, it turns him on to be that exposed.

“Shit baby, you’re so fucking pretty”, you lull, inspecting his pretty hole greedily.

It flutters at the praise, his breathy voice whispers a weak “Mommy”. It feels so good to be exposed to you. It feels so, so good.

“Lower yourself for me, pretty boy”, you order and stick your tongue out.

Jungkook obeys, letting out a whimper when it results in his stretched out hole to slip down on your tongue. He tries so, so hard not to clench in reaction even if the rest of his body tenses up. He always tenses up when the pleasure overwhelms him. It’s the only way to remotely control how you make him feel.

“Holy fuck”, he whispers, gasping for air repeatedly while his eyes widen and stare at the ruffled sheets. He is getting fucked by warm, wet tongue. His eyes go out of focus, his head tilts back slightly, “Mommy…holy fuck”, he breathes.

You growl, nodding your head as your praise. He comes into contact with your nose, squishing it slightly. Breathing gets difficult, but it’s so worth it when it means that Jungkook is whimpering and trembling above you.

You wiggle your tongue, enjoying the tightness of his rim greedily. He stretches so well around you, squeezing you in the best way.

“Mommy, I need to- ah!” he moans loudly, shuddering in ecstasy, “I h-have to be loud, I’m s-sorry. Ah!”

You let him know that this is what you want from him by moaning gutturally and giving his hips a small push to show him that you want him to move. Jungkook obeys without hesitation, fucking his hole on your tongue in small movements up and down.

And as he fucks his soft hole on your tongue, he keeps being loud. His fingers keep twisting the sheets and his head can’t decide whether to roll back or tangle weakly. One second he is throwing it back until it gets too much and he drops it again. It forces his bunny ears to flop all over the place, making him look so adorable.

Not that you can currently see. Your vision is blurred, as are your thoughts. He tastes so good, smells even better. There is nothing better in this world than Jungkook. All of him, every single inch, drives you crazy. You let him fuck himself on your tongue until your lungs protest for air and only then you guide him off of you. Your tongue flops out, his hole clenches desperately. Spit covers your face messily, but you couldn’t give two shits. Not when you need him so fucking bad.

You make up for the loss of contact by sucking and kissing at his rim, flicking your tongue over his sensitive parts as you pant for air.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god”, Jungkook is chanting. His head keeps tangling. Any other position was too exhausting. His thighs are squeezing you so much that it hurts just a little.

“Bunny, mhm Bunny”, you growl, pulling him closer even if he protests at first. It is instinct. He doesn’t want to squish you.

“P-please I’ll suffocate you”, he stutters, furrowing his brows as a squeaky moan leaves him. You are trying to fuck your tongue back into his hole, going obsessively rough with it. It gets him so wet, both his hole and his pretty little dick. There is a wet stain on his jockstrap by now. Jungkook can feel the cool air of the room turn it colder than the rest of the fabric. He wants to cup his cock and rub it, but he holds back because he has to twist the sheets instead.

“Please I’m too, too heavy.”

“Shut the fuck up mon amour, I ain’t made of glass”, you spit in what you lovingly call your street-days-dialect, “fuckin’ sit on me wit’ yo’ pretty hole. Make Mommy happy.”

Jungkook feels even the last piece of his sanity crumble. He can handle a lot, but he can’t handle it when you get aggressive with him. He always wants to be a gentleman with you and then you tell him to be quiet and act up. Jungkook gives up, letting you win the fight and therefore pull him down on your face.

You growl into him, making the wettest love to his little hole while your fingers dimple his inner thighs.

Jungkook mewls softly and shudders. His strength forsakes him. He falls to his elbows, resulting in his hole to leave your mouth for just a moment until you pull him back again. You keep lifting your head to meet him, anger fucking his hole with just your tongue. You soothe the punishment with wet kisses and sloppy licks. Jungkook swears that you are currently rewriting his definition of pleasure with just your tongue.

“Mhm”, his voice sound so pretty when he moans, “mhm, mhm, mhm…ah, aha.”

And he can’t stop doing it. He breathes heavily, gasps, moans and hums and you soak up every little sound of him as your starved mouth feasts on his hole.

His jockstrap can barely contain his cock by now. His velvety tip has already slipped out at the side, dripping onto your chest in a constant rhythm. You can feel the wet mess by now. From all the wiggling and squirming you are doing as you eat him out, it has smeared all over your tits by now, covering parts of your nipples as well. You can also feel the warmed up chains of his nipple clamps dance over your tummy as Jungkook keeps shaking above you.

You slide your right hand from his inner thigh and touch his cockhead.

Jungkook squeezes his thighs around you, almost kicking you in the face as his foot twitches in surprise. He drops his head into your thighs, forcing his hot breath to soak your panties.

“I’m close”, he gets out, mouthing at your clothed pussy, “oh god, I can’t hold it for long. Ah!”

“Shit Bunny”, you tilt your head back, giving yourself a chance to speak. Your hand is back on his right thigh, edging him “we gotta stop this or I’ll keep going until I’ve got you cumming.”

“That, that wouldn’t be bad”, he stutters, chasing you while his fingers try to tug your panties to the side, “please, Mommy”, he begs and drags his tongue through your folds. He couldn’t help himself. The scent of your warm, wet pussy was in his nose and it is so close to his mouth, “please”, his voice sends vibrations through you.

“Fine, fuck”, you lick your lips, rolling your hips up as his tongue keeps lapping at you, “I can keep going or I’ll fuck you. You decide.”

Jungkook lets out the first sob of the evening. Even now – when you sound so ruined by all of this – you find strength in yourself to tease him and mess him up. You are so cruel without even doing anything. Jungkook wants to keep sitting on your face so fucking bad, but the thought that he could miss out on orgasming around your strap makes him hesitate.

“I want Mommy’s cock”, he decides in the end, lifting his lips from your pussy, “please.”

“Very well. Do you have the strap here?”

“Yes, your red suitcase”, he answers you and buries his tongue back between your folds. He keens happily, lapping at you with a hot, dripping tongue.

“Okay, Bunny. Good boy”, you are keeping him with you as you run your finger over his rim, “get it for me.”

“I don’t know if I can. My legs are so weak”, he confesses and whimpers, kissing your clit as a weak apology “I’m sorry, Mommy”, he adds, drawing quick circles.

“Fine”, you give in, “get off of me. I’ll get it.”

“Mommy”, he mewls, burying himself deeper between your legs.

“Bunny”, you warn, swallowing down the gasp he almost licks out of you. What he does feels fucking amazing, but you have to stay strong. It’ll be so worth it.

“Mhm mhm”, Jungkook hums, sucking on your clit while his nose is buried between your folds.

“Fuck”, you hiss, arching your back, “Bunny, come…on”, you give his buttocks a soft spank, “don’t be like that. Come on, get up.”

“Mh-hm”, he shakes his head, pushing your thighs apart as his mouth laps at your pussy more vigorously. Your panties dig deep into his fingers as he keeps it pulled away from you, your hips smother him as they thrust up against your will.

“Bunny, listen- ah”, you gasp and moan, dropping your hands from his ass to instead twist the sheets. He makes you feel so good that it’s impossible to function, “Bunny-ah listen to, to ah fuck, listen to me. Fuck, ah.”

Jungkook moans into you, connecting his tongue with your clit as he keeps sucking on it. It results in a mixture of rough sucking sensations broken up by the hottest wetness ever. Mixed with his needy moans and his pretty nose fucking your dripping hole and you are quite frankly, done for.

You roll your eyes back and drop your back.

“You fucking brat”, you choke out, orgasming on his tongue with such intensity that you forget how to moan.

Jungkook whimpers needily, licking you through your orgasm until a sudden harsh spank to his ass forces him to throw his head back.

“Ah!” he lets out, clenching his hole aggressively. A spank on it follows. It stings and forces tears to Jungkook’s eyes.

“You little, disobedient brat”, you spit. Your voice is distorted from the pleasure he made you feel, raspy and deep. Jungkook feels his senses blur. Holy shit, he has such a kink for your voice. You spank his hole again, forcing the fire to burn deeper by pressing the pad of your thumb against it and applying pressure.

He writhes on top of you, struggling to stay on his elbows.

“I told you to listen. Is it so hard to follow a simple order, mhm?” you growl.

“I’m sorry”, he whimpers, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Oh god, Mommy.”

“Good. I fucking hope you are”, you spit and give him one last spank to really get the message across.

Jungkook shudders, leaking onto your tits.

You soothe the burn with a gentle finger, changing your voice as you speak.

“Now get off of me”, you say in a sweet voice, messing with Jungkook’s poor heart.

“Mommy, please”, he begs and rolls off of you. He drops to his back, licking his lips hungrily, “wanted to make you feel good, oh god”, he whines, exhaling shakily as his hands come down to play with his cock. He does it instinctively, writhing on the sheets with one of his legs propped up.

“Don’t you dare make yourself cum”, you warn and stumble out of bed with weak knees. You manage to walk to your red suitcase and squat down even if you are dizzy. He’s got you really good with his mouth. You don’t have to look for long because you keep your toys organized.

“Where is the lube, Bunny?”

“I forgot it in the bathroom. I’m sorry, Mommy oh god. I, I can get it.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll get it”, you say and leave the room.

You decide to slip on the strap in the bathroom, using a grinder on the inside to make it enjoyable for you. You look at yourself in the mirror for a moment. The strap is similar to your skin colour and curves just right to stimulate his deeper pleasure spots. It looks so good on you. And with that thought in mind, you hurry back to Jungkook.

He is kneeling on the floor when you come back, keeping his head lowered. His cock is stuffed back into the jockstrap and his hands are on top his thighs with their palms facing up. His bunny ears, although only fake, look so sad as they tangle from each side of his head.

“What are you doing down there? Gosh, Bunny”, you gasp, hurrying to him.

“I want to apologise. I, I should have gotten the strap and, and the lube. I’m sorry, Mommy”, he says honestly and bows.

“Gosh, you stupid noodle stop that”, you say, pulling him back up with nothing more than two fingers under his chin, “you’re my precious prince and Mommy’s here to treat you, yeah?”

“So you, you won’t punish me?” he asks.

“Of course not, Bunnybaby”, you reassure him.

Jungkook releases a shuddering breath, “Mommy”, he chokes out, gazing up at you with sparkly eyes.

You give him a playful smirk, “unless you want me to punish you, mhm? Didn’t have enough of getting your hole spanked?”

He giggles, lifting his shoulders to his ears, “yeah, that was fun”, he confesses, scrunching his nose up.

“Cutie”, you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

Jungkook moves into the kiss with closed eyes, opening them when you pull back. They shift to your cock for a second and linger.

“You like it?” you ask him, gripping it by its base while your other hand still holds his chin.

“Yes”, he gets out, parting his lips, “you look so pretty with cock, Mommy.”

“Thank you, Bunny.”

Jungkook closes the distance between his lips and the tip of your strap, kissing it while his devoted eyes gaze up at you.

Your breath hitches in your throat. He looks so pretty like this.

“I love Mommy’s cock”, he whispers and flicks his tongue over the tip, ending it with a droopy smile.

You feel yourself melt, ruffling his hair gently enough not to rip out the clips from the ears.

“Get back on bed, Bunny and let me fuck you.”

“Can you fuck me in lotus position?”

“Of course I can. Everything my Bunny wants, my Bunny gets.”

“Don’t say that”, Jungkook mumbles and giggles. He is so happy. He feels especially soft tonight and you know exactly how to handle him to keep him in the headspace.

You take a step back and walk to the bed, climbing on top of it. You fluff up the pillows so you can rest back into them. Once you are comfortable, you move your legs into the right position. Jungkook followed you as you did all of that, climbing onto bed after you. He is now waiting for you to get your legs comfortable.

Your eyes meet.

“Come closer”, you order as you spread a generous amount of lube on your strap.

Jungkook follows excitedly, positioning himself on top of you. He places his hands on your shoulders, looking down at you.

You smile up at him, connecting your fingers with his hole to spread the lube. He shivers, sighing softly.

“My pretty Bunny”, you whisper, “I can’t get enough of you in those ears.”

“They’re connected to my hair.”

“I know, I felt the clips”, you say and push a finger into him, watching in delight how his eyes go out of focus and his lips fall open.

You curl your finger as you fuck it in and out of him, gazing into his eyes as deeply as possible.

“You’re so soft inside”, you praise, poking his walls, “my pretty Bunny’s soft everywhere.”

“It’s hard to concentrate”, he confesses, scrunching his brows.

“Want more?”

He nods his head, “yes please.”

“Shit, you’re such a good boy”, you mumble and slip your middle finger into him as well, “the shit you pulled before wasn’t like you. Mhm, why did you act up Bunnybaby? Mhm?”

“Wanted Mommy to feel good”, he lulls his words, finding it hard to look into your eyes. Your fingers fill him out so well.

“You wanted me to feel good”, you repeat, massaging his prostate.

“A-ah.”

“Shit Bunny, when you say it like that it almost makes me feel bad that I punished you.”

“No, it was so…good, ah holy shit this feels so good, ah”, Jungkook gets out and moans, closing his eyes.

“Mhm, I know”, you purr, slipping your fingers free just to make him mewl desperately. You grip his hips, giving them a gentle tug, “take it at your pace, Bunny.”

Jungkook grabs your cock and lowers himself. He manages to get as far as the tip and then moves up again.

“More lube”, he says.

“Hurts?”

“Yeah, it’s too dry.”

You lube up your cock more, spreading the access on his hole, “try it again.”

Jungkook lowers himself. Your tip slips past his rim easily.

“How’s that?” you ask him, caressing his tensing buttocks.

“Mh-hm”, he lets out, furrowing his brows. His frown worries you.

“Are you okay? Bunny, take it slow if it hurts”, you tell him.

Jungkook frowns harder, sinking down more.

“Bunny, take it slow for me.”

“Mommy, please be quiet. I need to concentrate”, he whines and pouts with big eyes.

“Oh you-”, you laugh, throwing your head back, “you little brat.”

“I have to concentrate”, he murmurs and sinks down the last inches. Now he is sitting on your lap with you cock all the way up his ass, “ah”, he lets out in a sigh, dropping his head in the crook of your neck. His arms hug you, his legs wrap around you. He begins rocking himself on your lap, moaning into your neck quietly.

“Is that better?” you ask him, caressing his lower back. You can feel his muscles shift and tense under his skin. Just as you can feel his thighs tense as he moves on your strap.

“Yeah”, he mewls, nodding his head, “oh god, you’re so deep.”

“I know, Bunny. You’re taking all of me”, you speak softly, grabbing his pretty butt to help him with the movements, “you’re such a good boy taking me like that.”

“Oh fuck, ah fuck”, he whimpers, hugging you tight against him, “I’m so stuffed with Mommy. Ah! Ah”, he shudders, increasing his movements. He still keeps you deep inside, grinding on your lap as his legs tremble around your waist. He doesn’t need to bounce. As a matter of fact, what he is currently doing feels so much better than any bouncing ever could. Because your cock is so deep and really stays at one area, it can stimulate all those sensitive spots inside and Jungkook has way too many of them. And they are way too fucking sensitive on top of that. Every second with you feels like ecstasy even if he hasn’t orgasmed yet.

“Yeah, you are. So filled with me”, you whisper, squeezing his buttocks, “so filled with me. Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy.”

“Mommy”, Jungkook whimpers, falling into you. It forces your back deeper into the pillows and allows him to grip the edge of the headboard. It hurts his nails, but he barely notices it. Everything feels way too good. He is so far gone. Not only in the pleasure, but also the safe headspace. He is on your lap, he can feel your naked chest against his, smells your warm scent, has you holding him and on top of that, his leaky cock grinds against your stomach while your strap stimulates every single spot inside him. There is not a single thing which isn’t right currently. This is perfect and it’s ruining Jungkook to the point where he genuinely has to sob.

“Breathe Bunny, it’s okay”, you soothe him, closing your arms around his torso whilst burying one of your hands deep in his hair.

The hug soothes him so much and makes him sob again because he is so close to you.

“Can I cum? Please”, he begs squeakily, “make me feel…so good. Everything feels so good. Oh god”, he gets out, ending it with a high-pitched whimper and his body trembling in your lap.

“Whenever you are ready, Bunny. I’m right here”, you allow him, hugging him safely.

“Now”, he gets out, “oh god, Mommy now”, he moans and feels how your strap makes him cum. It starts deep in his ass. Right where the silicon toy kept grinding against his pleasure spots. Describing the orgasm as hot wouldn’t be enough. It is so much more than that. Jungkook feels it everywhere and he feels it so deep that it gets very hard to stay conscious. His body twitches and convulses on top of you and you know that he has no control over it. His cock doesn’t release, but throbs so aggressively that it slips out of his jockstrap again. And his voice sounds so consumed by his orgasm that you feel yourself gasp for air as well. You know exactly how good he feels right now, holding him through his high until those shakes slowly die down.

“Good boy, oh my good boy”, you praise him, hugging his waist with your left arm while you let your right hand slip to his cock. You pick it up to jerk it off.

“Ah”, Jungkook arches his back so he can press his chest closer, his trembling arms close around you as his fingers grab a bundle of your hair, “ah, ahm, ah, o-oh.”

He didn’t cum with his cock. He knows that he didn’t, so getting touched by you right now, forces him straight back to the start.

“Oh god, ah, fuck. A-ah, ahm, ah”, he is struggling with producing moans, resulting in them to sound just a little strained but so fucking honest. Only you can make him moan like this. Only you can get him that ruined so it is even difficult to make sounds. And yet, he still tries to because it’s the only way to handle you.

“Good boy, my good boy”, you praise him as you jerk his cock, rolling your hips up to keep his hole stimulated as well. You don’t want any of that sweet, sweet pleasure to die down. You need him ruined and you are going to do it in the gentlest of ways. This kind of way always hits the deepest.

It’s easy to ruin someone with a rough and fast fuck. You just got to pound them hard enough and they’ll feel destroyed.

The proof of a good fuck is how well you can destroy someone with minimal movements. That’s where the real talent lies. And you? Oh you. You are one talented motherfucker.

“Feels so good”, Jungkook is whimpering even if he can barely produce moans. Your shoulder is wet because he keeps spilling tears. He thinks his eyes might be stuck after you made them cross, he can’t seem to find his focus again. His head is dizzy and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. You are ruining him with nothing but a slow handjob and your hips grinding up into him.

“Yeah, feels amazing”, you agree, “I’ve got you Bunny.”

Jungkook sobs, convulsing on top of you as if you just thrusted into him with all your strength. His cock throbs between your fingers, his fingers grip for your desperately. He doesn’t know where to touch, what to hold of you to make all of this easier to bear.

“Mommy”, he tries to call your name, maybe that will make it easier, but it doesn’t.

“I’m here, Bunny. I’ve got you”, you soothe him, sliding your left arm down his waist until you can press your fingers against his hole. You massage his stretched rim, giving him a reminder that he already orgasmed once and that he is terribly sensitive now.

“I can’t do this”, he sobs and convulses, “oh god please”, he pulls you closer, needing your warmth to survive.

“Break? Or need it closer?”

“Closer ple-please.”

You hug him strongly, tightening your grip around his cock just as you increase the pressure on his hole.

“Closer.”

The hug gains in intensity. You can barely move your hand up and down his cock, deciding on putting your attention on his tip instead. You massage his wet slit, giving it just a little bit of a stretch as you fuck the pad of your thumb into it. Your fingers are around the base of his tip, massaging it in rhythmical squeezes.

He begins panting, releasing loud noises each time he breathes out. He can’t stop. They leave him in sync with his body convulsing on top your lap. He drops each time he exhales, sagging his shoulders with it before his harsh inhale forces them to lift again and with it also Jungkook. Just a little, but it’s so intense for him that he is a little scared.

“Good boy, my good boy. You’re my good boy”, you praise him and kiss the shell of his ear.

Jungkook climaxes. He can’t tell you that he does, he also can’t change his voice before it happens, it just takes over. It starts at his slit this time around. The gentle fuck you gave it was too much. From there, it took over his whole cock until your strap did the rest.

Jungkook thought that the first orgasm was intense, but this is on another level. He claws at you in hopes of making it easier, even buries his teeth in your shoulder as his body shakes uncontrollably. But nothing helps. The fire feels endless. It is as if Jungkook never orgasmed before.

“Yes baby, my good boy”, Jungkook can hear you choke out and judging by the sound of your voice, you are orgasming with him. The thought makes it even more intense for him and by the time it finally starts to get easier, Jungkook has to sob.

“My Bunny, oh my Bunny”, you speak shakily, holding him so tightly while your lips litter him with kisses, “good job, my good boy. You did such a good job. I know Bunny, let it all out. You did so well.”

“It feels so good”, he presses out, “so good, Mommy”, he wails, pressing you closer with his fingers deep in your hair.

“I know Bunny, oh I know. My good boy, you took all of this so well.”

“Oh god”, Jungkook shudders, “oh god.”

“My good boy”, you keep praising him. It makes it so worthwhile to come back to you, “I love you so much, my good Bunnybaby.”

“Oh god, Mommy”, he gets out, trembling uncontrollably one last time before some of his clarity comes back. It’s difficult to come back sometimes. Jungkook loves being in subspace, so sometimes it’s hard for him to accept that he has to get back to reality again. It would make Jungkook feel really awful to be forced out of it entirely the moment the sex ended and you never make him feel this way. You always help him come back in such a nice way. You make him slip out of it far enough that you can do aftercare with him, but also allow him to stay in it deep enough that he can feel fuzzy even long after the main sex act ended.

“My good boy, you’re such a good boy”, you praise him, rubbing his buttocks gently, “how’s the stretch?”

He shakes his head.

“Doesn’t hurt?”

He nods his head.

“Then we’ll stay like this for a little, yeah?”

He nods his head again, hugging you tightly.

“And once you’re ready, I’ll give you a nice warm bath before we’ll have yummy dinner and lots of snuggles in bed. Yeah?”

He giggles, nodding his head.

“Yeah Bunnybaby, let’s do that”, you say, giving him a gentle squeeze, “fuck, I adore you.”

“I adore you too”, he whispers, “thank you so much for everything.”

“Mhm Bunny”, you sigh, kissing his shoulder as you pull him closer with the harness twisted in your fingers, “mine.”

Jungkook sighs in overwhelming happiness, pressing himself closer as his heart bursts for you. Yeah, you really make it so worthwhile to come back.

764 notes · View notes

leahsgirl · 3 months

Text

valentines sucks

— in which y/n’s original valentine’s day plans fall through and leah decides to take her out herself.

pairings - leah williamson x female reader

warnings - minor swearing but that’s about it really

a/n - an early valentine’s day post because i have the patience of a three year old, here’s some fluff for the lovely day 💐💒

—

“Babe wake up.” shaking the body next to you in bed, you was answered with grumbles before you could hear faint snores again. “Baby, come on get up, it’s valentine’s day!” With a reluctant sigh, the man next to you shifted so his upper body was pressed against the headboard, rubbing his eyes for a brief second.

“here.” an excited grin covered your face as you handed him a red envelope and a neatly wrapped present. “well go on; open it.”

the brown haired boy peeled open the envelope, revealing a handmade card covered in red lipstick kisses and cut-out hearts made from card. “To Tobias, happy valentine’s day, i love you, thanks for another year together, love y/n.” He placed down the card and reached for the present, tearing the wrapping paper open to reveal a homemade scrapbook. “Look inside, theres a surprise.” At this point you was itching with anticipation, personally you thought you’d outdone yourself with the valentine’s day gifts this year and couldn’t wait to get your boyfriend’s reaction.

Tobias pulled out a folded piece of paper, opening it up you watched as he read the words on the page. “We’re going Canada?” He looked confused. “Well I know it’s always been one of the places you’ve wanted to go, plus you said you had some family down there so I thought this is the perfect opportunity to go visit them.”

“y/n I don’t know what to say.” The olive skinned boy replied as he looked over the piece of paper again. “Hm most people normally say thank you.” You laughed as you moved closer to him. “Do you like it?”

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he gave a weak smile and nodded. Oblivious to his change in demeanour, you pressed your lips to his pulling him in for a short but sweet kiss.

“Okay my turn!” now crossing your legs and holding your hands out, you shut your eyes.

“Oh..uhm..shit yeah.” Tobias got up off the bed, walking back and forth as he tried to find something to give you. A fun fact you should know about Tobias; he’s a pretty shitty person - you just failed to acknowledge it at this point. “Listen y/n-“ He sunk back onto the mattress. Opening your eyes you notice he’s looking anywhere but you. “You forgot didn’t you?” The lack of response told you everything you needed to know, your mood instantly deflating.

Scoffing, you got up out of bed and made your way into the bathroom. “y/n wait I can make it up to you.” Tobias rang out but you were choosing to ignore him.

Whipping out your phone, you decide to text your fellow teammates/friends:

y/n - he’s only gone and forgot again, i’m at a loss for words, valentines sucks

meado - you deserve better y/n i’m sorry

geo stanway - break up with him! break up with him!

y/n - you say it like it’s easy

elton - do you want me to come and twat him?

lee lee - be ready in 15 mins, wear something warm.

Despite the curiosity, you follow the defenders instructions, throwing on some light wash jeans and a beige jumper, finishing off the look with a matching beanie. Unlocking the door, you find yourself face to face with Tobias. “Where are you going?”

“Out. Also i’d appreciate if you weren’t here when I get back, I think it’s best we both have some space.” With that you leave the room, grab your bag and leave the apartment.

You didn’t have to wait for Leah for long, you was only stood outside your apartment complex for a couple of minutes before you caught a glimpse that famous blonde hair. “My car’s around the corner, come on let’s go.”

“Hello y/n, hello Leah, it’s nice to see you, it’s nice to see you too. And they say chivalry is dead.” You said sarcastically as the older girl was already turning around to head back to her Audi. She pauses, waiting for you to catch up “Sorry, it’s just we’re on a bit of a time limit.”

You raised your eyebrows quizzically, “care to tell me where we’re going? and why I had to dress warm,”

She glances you up and down before smiling like a mischievous kid “Nope and Nope, you look beautiful though.” You could feel the blush creeping up on your cheeks at the compliment. “Leah Williamson: The charmer.”

“Always.” The blonde winked at you before opening the car door and sliding into the drivers seat. “Mind if I connect my phone to play music?” Leah shook her head and you started pressing all sorts of buttons on the touchscreen device. Eventually you got up CarPlay with it displaying Leah’s last played song “‘I see the light’, Seriously? How old are you?”

It was the blue-eyed girls turn to blush now, witnessing a sense of embarrassment come over her. “Hey it’s a good song from a great film, i’m going to ignore your judging.”

You raise your hands up in defence “No judging - I actually think it’s quite cute. In fact it gives me even more evidence for my ‘leah williamson is actually a massive softie’ list i’m compiling.” She gives you a stern look but you know she’s only playing and you continue to shuffle songs until you come across one you like.

The car journey was pleasant and entertaining, talking about pretty much anything and everything along with a quick game of would you rather. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you, it’s probably why you liked being around the taller girl so much. Leah parked up and the two of you got out the vehicle. “Hold my hand?” You accepted the extended arm and laced your fingers with hers, choosing not to acknowledge how right it felt.

Syncing up steps, Leah guided you towards an area that got noisier the closer you got, nonetheless brighter. “Welcome to London’s biggest funfair.” The blonde announced.

“How on earth did you know I always wanted to come here?!” Looking around, you could see a multitude of various rides and mini-game stalls, not to mention your ultimate favourite; the ferris wheel. “I listen y/n, that’s how.” Just that sentence alone sent your stomach flipping. “What do you propose we do first?”

Scanning around, you take notice of the bumper cars and smirk to yourself “How about a good olé head-to-head at bumper cars?”

The mention of competition was enough to get Leah to agree, trailing along behind you to get in the queue. She was so going to win.

Now as it turned out, she in fact did not win, and instead is complaining of whiplash. “Stupid pissing game.” She grumbled causing you to snicker “it’s alright Lee, i’m sure after another one..or one hundred goes you’ll be able to have a chance at beating me.”

Lots of games later, you sat yourselves on a bench, holding one of the greatest inventions known to man. “I can’t believe you’ve never had warm donuts, you’ve been missing out.” You weren’t being dramatic when you felt a piece of yourself shatter when Leah told you she’s never tried the popular carnival dessert. “They’ve just never really appealed to me.”

“And that ladies and gentlemen is what is wrong with society today.” Opening the box and letting the smell hit you, you broke a donut in half, holding it out for Leah to take a bite out of. You watched as the blonde ate the sugary treat and widened her eyes “Okay they’re gorgeous.” She revealed as she went for the other half.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Hey do you mind waiting here for a few minutes, I’ve got to go do something real quick.” The defender got up off the table and waited for your approval before actually leaving. Once you nodded, she was off in the opposite direction, leaving you with just the now empty donut box and both of your belongings.

However, after around ten minutes she returned, holding something behind her back. “Okay close your eyes and put your hands out.” Following her orders you do exactly that, feeling a soft weight now in your possession. Taking a look, in your hands was a small brown bear with a heart attached to its claws. “Happy Valentine’s day y/n.” Leah spoke softly and your heart was beating faster than it does when playing a match. “Lee you didn’t have to do that you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to. Also, I had to win something to make up for the bumper cars.”

You shook your head smiling “Oh so it wasn’t a cute little gift, it was to restore your overinflated ego.” quirking a brow, it was Leah’s turn to smile like a little kid “Guess you could say we got the best of both worlds.”

You both decided you should probably start to head back. But not before riding the ferris wheel that is, heading over to the massive thing hand in hand.

Once secured in by a metal bar, you wait for the ride to commence. “Can I ask a question?” You turn to look at the girl next to you, she nodded. “Why did bring me here? why did you even take me out at all?” It was Valentine’s day after all, you guys weren’t dating, you was sure she had people higher up on her list she wanted to see today of all days.

“You need to leave him y/n.” The sentence was stated so effortlessly but you couldn’t help but feel a punch to the gut sensation. “you deserve better.”

“He never used to be like this.” You mumbled under your breath but the blonde still caught it, deciding just to drop the matter.

“What’s with the love of funfairs anyways?” Leah asked, gripping onto the bar harder now you were at the very top of the contraption.

“My dad used to bring me to them all the time as a little kid. My mum was always travelling the country with work so I guess it was his way of getting me to cheer up. Not to mention he would always win me a stuffed animal and then we’d end the day with the warm donuts. You smiled at the memory. “Then he got sick and we stopped coming.” It still stung a little when you reminisce over your father’s diagnosis and how you watched him deteriorate with each and every hospital visit.

“I’m sorry y/n, i didn’t mean to bring him u-“ You cut in, “No it’s okay don’t worry, you remind me of him a lot actually.”

The skipper looked at you confused “Do I?”

“Well he was very kind, funny, determined and not to forget sometimes arrogant - all characteristics you share.” Leah swatted your arm, “I’m not that arrogant.”

“Oh yes you definitely are.” Chuckling as you intertwined your arms. “But I wouldn’t change you for the world if that makes you feel better.”

“It does make me feel better actually.”

Now you were sat in the car on the way home, scrolling through socials on your phone. Leah was concentrating on the road, cursing out the odd ‘dickhead’ or ‘twat’ here and there. “Do you reckon if I post a picture of us at the funfair on my instagram we’ll get floods of dating accusations?” Ever since being in the public eye you’ve been very careful about what you chose to share on your social media; people are like vultures and you’re the bait. According to articles and fan pages, you’ve dated everyone on your squad and more, some have even suggested your relationship with Tobias is a pr stunt, but your personal favourite is that you’re apparently pregnant because you had a break from social media for a few months.

“All the fans already assume we have a thing going on. Post it if you like.” The older girl was right, back when you transferred to arsenal three years ago up until this day fans have always had their conspiracy theories around the pair, you never played into it however, just letting them think what they think, sending them into frenzies if a post was ever made with the two of you together.

Humming in agreement, you start crafting out your post, thinking of an appropriate caption before pressing share. “Done.”

Another twenty minutes or so had passed and you could tell you were getting closer to home, recognising certain buildings. It was around this time when Leah had started very quietly singing along to the song playing through the speakers. The blue-eyed girl had a very pretty voice in your opinion and you often didn’t understand why she felt embarrassed singing in front of people.

You continued to watch the girl, a genuine smile making its way to your lips.

put your lips close to mine

as long as they don’t touch

out of focus, eye to eye

‘til the gravity’s too much

i’ll do anything you say

if you say it with your hands

Now you don’t know if it was the way she was singing the lyrics, or the way the sunlight was bouncing off her face to give her a gorgeous sun-kissed look, or how every so often she’d make eye contact with you and smile. But somehow, all you wanted to do was-

“Okay pretty, we’re here.” Pulling you out of your little daydream, you looked out the window to see you was in fact outside your apartment.

“Okay well thank you for doing this for me today, it means a lot.” Leaning across the gearstick, you pulled her in for a side hug.

Your name has echoed through my mind

And I just think you should, think you should know

That nothing safe is worth the drive

And I would follow you, follow you home

I'll follow you, follow you home

You pulled back to look at the defender, examining her whole face. She watched as your eyes flicked down to her lips, and back up. It could have just been both of your imaginations, but the tension was thick. You could drop a pin and you’re convinced you would hear it.

You found yourself leaning in, faces only inches apart now. The thing that shocked you the most was that Leah made no attempt to move back, instead she kept her gaze firmly locked on yours.

“Sorry for what I’m about to do.” Were the final words you breathed out before pressing your lips on the defenders. It started out light, almost afraid if you applied anymore pressure, she’d back away. But those fears were squashed when you felt a pair of lips kiss you back, this time with more intent.

You could feel a warm hand travel to the back of your neck, pulling you closer if that was even possible. Running a hand through her blonde locks you felt a smile playing at the girls lips as she continued to kiss back.

Pulling apart your chest was heaving. Suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings you wave her goodbye and exit the car, taking one last look at Leah before practically running up the steps to your building.

Once inside, you reach for the phone in your pocket that has just buzzed. Unlocking it you see you have one new message.

from: lee lee

break up with him.

#leah williamson x reader #woso #leah williamson #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #lionesses #england lionesses #y/n #when is it my turn #i want a gf #i want a boyfriend #just cried #treacherous #taylor swift #taylor swift lyrics #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x y/n

527 notes · View notes

totallyhextra · 6 months

Text

People? In MY computer?? It's more likely than you think!

The following is a fanvertisment and is not connected to the show. ****Yet.*** *Also yes, this is the fourth time I'm posting this because TUMBLR WONT LET ME EDIT SPELLING MISTAKES!

ANYWAY,

Once upon a time, back in 1987, Dire Straits put out this music video for “Money for Nothing”, which, as you know, was a song about wanting my MTV.

youtube

The video was made by two guys (Gavin Blair and Ian Pearson) on a very moody computer. After the video went out, these two guys went to a pub:

Ian: “Hey, we should make a whole show like this!”

Gavin: “Dude, making three minutes almost killed us.”

And so it was decided!🎉

The two guys were joined by two other guys (Phil Mitchell and John Grace) and created the Hub, which then became Mainframe Entertainment. They got even more people, and then they all holed up in this hotel.

They were mad lads with a dream: a whole cgi animated show, and they made it happen a whole year before Toy Story!

Behold! ReBoot!

(Yes that fever dream was real)

Now before I get any of this:

Let me lay this down. If you can’t with the animation of the first season because it was CUTTING EDGE IN 1994, you can close your eyes and listen to it. ReBoot wasn’t just a CGI gimmick. The characters are fully developed, the voice actors are peerless, the plot is sharp, and there’s so many easter eggs that you’ll never find them all.

Never

(And yes the episode "Bad Bob" was the actual catalyst for Fury Road. Look it up)

ReBoot is about what life is like in a computer (in the 90s, because it was the 90s) called Mainframe (because of course it is). People are sprites, the guys that look like 1s and 0s are binomes (which represent 1s and 0s). Bad guys are viruses, and the good guy is a Guardian named Bob, who is a certified cinnamon roll.

In the first season the eps are light and self-contained, mainly because there was constant friction between the Mainframe studios and the Board of Standards and Practices.

They still got away with some pretty dark stuff, like Megabyte (virus) making Enzo (the kid) watch his dog get sliced open (dog got away, obviously) , Dot (sprite) have a hallucinatory breakdown, and the fridge horror of realizing the thousands of worm things (nulls) that plunged off a bridge to their death were actually people.

And Hex's (virus

best girl) scary face single-handedly traumatized an entire generation. 🙂

But busting through a window was a no go, because WhAt If tHe cHiLdReN dID iT tOo?

Anyway, halfway through the second season, ABC cut them loose, so they were like, fuck it, we’re going to start going hard. The story shifted from episodic to arcs and things start to get serious.

Third season the show moved to YTV in Canada, which gave no fucks about shielding the innocent children.

So it got DARK

How dark?

The UK refused to show the entire season, so the audience there had to wait until pirated copies made it across the pond to see how it ended.

Also by 1997, the animation was gorgeous. (Best example of third season animation I could think of that didn't have spoilers)

youtube

The show was green-lit for a fourth season on Cartoon Network, but halfway through production Warner Bros took over and the same fucking thing happened.

Because Mainframe was halfway done, they decided not to scrap all of it, but knowing they wouldn't be able to finish it correctly, Mainframe stripped anything that would hint at Season Four's true ending, then left what remained on a cliff-hanger of angst.

FOR 22 YEARS

(It's also why the last four eps of season four seem to make no sense)

And so it was.

Other crap happened, the soul left Mainframe, and its animated corpse spat out “The Guardian Code” in 2018.

But never say die! The year is (almost) 2024, 30 years later. ReBoot shall rise from the dead, because here come the documentary!!

youtube

Do you dare see what you’ve been missing?

What the (UK) government doesn’t want you to know??

Then come on down to ReBoot!

We got:

Magnificent bastards with sexy voices!

youtube

(Tony Jay at his best)

Kickass women who could probably crush your head with their thighs and you’d enjoy it!

Innuendos in a kid's show!

youtube

💗 This adorable cinnamon roll!! 💗

Insane third season glow-ups!

YOUR NEW GOD

These guys!

(Gay roller-skating binome is my boi. I named him Jerry)

Nonstop cultural refs (You'll never find them all. Never.)

(There are literally videos dedicated to trying)

So many computer puns!

Body Horror!

Existential Crisis!

HAVE I MENTIONED YOUR NEW GOD?

youtube

This is it, folks! The real thing, the gem hidden in the moose-filled forests of Canadia!🌲🌲🌲

Take a trip inside a mid-90’s computer!

See the World Wide Web! (omg):

Witness the original purple Gamecubes that randomly fall from the sky when the owner of the computer (OUR GOOD LORD THE USER) wants to play a game. If it lands on people and they lose, they dissolve into mindless energy leeches, fated to tormented by their former bretheren for all of eternity.

Just like in real life! 🙃

So watch the eps! They on YouTube!

youtube

I think they're on Pluto, Hulu, Sling, and Tubi too! Also DVDs for people who have the patience to wait for them!

WATCH! BELIEVE! SUFFER THE SOUL-CRUSHING RAGE OF THE SEASON 4 CLIFF-HANGER!* (come on, its fun!)*

HYPE THE DOC!

The more people hype, the better the chances of actually getting it finished.

NOW SHARE THIS WITH EVERYONE!

And now I will leave you with this screenshot from the ep "Painted Windows", where dicks can clearly be seen drawn upon the wall behind the fleeing anthropomorphized television.

(PS: If you heard the clown pic at the top of the page in your head, you're welcome)

IMPORTANT UPDATE

This message is now approved by Gavin Blair! He's an awesome guy. Show him some love on TWITTER (fuck you musk) at @TheRealMrSweary Also, if you want to share this with non-tumblr friends, here is my attempt at a webpage version:

theseventhstarprojects.com/REBOOT.html

884 notes · View notes

holllandtrash · 10 months

Note

you know 6 to 1 yn said something about carlos’s mustache and lando threatened to grow his hair back out of playful jealousy

word count: 4.1k tags/warnings: some angst, jealousy, mentions of smut kind of part of the 6 to 1 series

carlossainz55

liked by ynleclerc, scuderiaferrari and 391,202 others

carlossainz55 off to Canada 🇨🇦 let's keep pushing

view all 1,542 comments

scuderiaferrari now that's a smoooth operator

spicysainzz its illegal for a man to look this good

ynleclerc god don't tell me you're growing out your facial hair now too

carlossainz55 you love it ynleclerc sure

“Oh so you like Carlos’ facial hair?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You didn't look up from the cutting board, already deciding that whatever Lando was on about wasn’t as important as making dinner.

“You like his facial hair,” Lando repeated, a statement this time.

It was impossible to not give him any attention when he shoved his phone in your face. You took a breath, asking yourself what you were getting yourself into as you dropped the knife on the counter and tuned in on his screen, more specifically, at the comment you had left on Carlos’ most recent picture.

“It’s a harmless comment,” you scoffed, knowing that your friendship with Carlos was nothing for him to worry about, yet he always seemed to be triggered by the most mundane things.

“But you like his facial hair.”

“Are those the only words you know how to say?”

You pushed the phone out of your face and turned properly to face him, only then seeing that he wasn’t taking this conversation as a joke the same way you were. His jaw had tightened, the lines in his forehead displayed his very prominent annoyance and you flipped a switch to react accordingly, hand going up to cup his cheek

“Lando,” you said, a slight shake of the head. “You’re being dramatic. I commented on my friend's photo. Who is also your friend. It’s nothing to get worked up over, okay?”

Lando and Carlos were still two peas in a pod. Their bond was unbreakable but since you started dating you could tell he was always slightly on edge whenever you and Carlos were alone together. And of course Lando trusted you, you’re the one person who held his heart he knew you wouldn’t do anything to damage it.

It was Carlos he didn’t trust.

He didn’t like that Carlos had never once talked to Lando about the kiss you had shared. It was this strange, unspoken thing, but when you tried to explain how weird it would be for Carlos to approach him and say ‘hey, I had feelings for your girlfriend and we kissed but don’t worry about’ it didn’t really click for Lando.

So he just held his breath and watched from a distance whenever you interacted with the Spanish driver and if he felt your conversations lingered a little too long for his liking, he’d find a way to pull you aside and remind you who exactly you were in the paddock for.

He had no control over what happened on Instagram, though. And it wasn’t like he was going to tell you to unfollow your brother's teammate, so he just ignored any bitter thoughts that came to mind if he saw your name show up in Carlos’ likes.

But that comment.

It was friendly, sure, but it was the fact that it was on the topic of facial hair that really stung. Lando knew how much you hated his facial hair when he tried to grow it out and the only reason he ended up shaving was because you made your dislike for it so abundantly clear.

So why the fuck did you not hate it on Carlos?

Carlos didn’t have as difficult of a time growing out the stubble like Lando did. And his already prominent moustache was just only going to get thicker and you didn’t hate it. It was clear by your comment, despite it being sarcastic, that you didn’t hate it.

And Lando hated that.

“You’re really bothered by this,” you said aloud when it sunk in that this wasn’t something Lando would get over after a good night's sleep.

“I am, yes.”

“And what's bothering you, exactly? The fact that I commented on his picture?” You asked, wanting to get to the root of the problem. “Or are you annoyed that I had a different reaction to his facial hair than I did with yours?”

Lando hesitated before finally muttering a quiet, “Both.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed on his chest, wanting not only a bit of space from his childish ways of thinking but also wanting to finish dinner. You picked up the knife and went back to mincing the pepper, not about to coddle Lando or assure him that he had nothing to worry about because this was a conversation you had had way too many times for your liking and if he didn’t know you loved him by now then that was his problem.

But Lando wasn’t about to move on as easy as you had, “I’m just saying-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” You cut him off, voice shaper than the knife in your hand. Each cut against the board echoed in the confined space and Lando could tell you were applying more pressure than needed, relying on your actions to show that you really didn’t want to have this conversation.

And Lando stayed quiet for the rest of the night. Not just about the picture, but in general. When you asked him to set the table, he did so without his usual childish complaints. The conversation between you during dinner was cold and distant but you didn’t want to press further, knowing that he’d get over this in his own way.

You thought things were fine when he crawled into bed shortly after you did because he curled his arm around your waist like normal, pulling you against his chest as his soft breath hit your neck. You whispered ‘goodnight to him, but his lack of response wasn’t something you thought too much about.

It wasn’t until you woke up did the trouble really begin.

You walked into the bathroom first thing in the morning, rubbing your eyes and the residue of mascara that didn’t come off after washing your face last night. After turning on the sink and letting the water run, you wiped a disposable cloth over your face and tossed it out immediately after. Naturally, the rest of your morning routine would have followed, had a perfectly good electric razor not have caught your eye at the top of the garbage can.

“Lando!” You basically screamed, knowing he was in the inbetween stages of awake and asleep when you had gotten out of bed. You heard the rustling of sheets and the patter of footsteps as you grabbed the razor out of the bin.

When you turned around, one hand resting on your hip you saw a very tired Lando standing in the hallway. Usually the sight of him bare chested and wearing nothing but boxers was enough to have you contemplating dragging him back to bed, but not this time.

“What is this?” You asked, so obviously talking about the razor Lando had thrown out the night prior. “A peaceful protest?”

Lando looked at you and then at the little contraption and then back at you, a hint of a playful smile on his face. Of course now he thought this was funny.

“Yeah that’s a good way to put it.”

“Are you fu-” you sucked in a breath to avoid losing your shit on him five minutes after waking up. “Why?”

“Because I’m growing out my facial hair again.”

“Why?”

“Oh is that the only word you know how to say?” Lando asked, mimicking your question from last night with more sarcasm than you wanted to deal with at nine in the morning.

You rolled your eyes and shoved the razer into his chest before storming past him, dragging your fingers through the roots of your hair while he was forced to call your name, stopping you from slamming the door to the bedroom.

“What?” Lando asked, voice raised. “Why are you so upset about this?”

Your hands tensed, cupping your own face as you exhaled into your palms before your arms fell back to your side, “I’m upset because you clearly are doing this because of that stupid comment on Carlos’ picture.”

“Maybe I just want to grow my facial hair out again,” he shrugged, leaning against the wall as he crossed his arms over his chest. He hadn’t thrown the razor out again, but that didn’t give you any sort of hope that he would hear you out.

“You don’t,” you scoffed. “You told me yourself it wasn’t permanent the first time. You just wanted to try it out. You tried it and it turns out, not for you.”

“Maybe I’ll like it more the second time.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him, instead choosing to turn on your heels and start to walk into your bedroom, muttering a quiet, “Maybe I’ll hate it more the second time”

“Oh but you love Carlos’ facial hair.”

That stopped you in his tracks. Lando finally admitting that it was, in fact, the comment that was getting to him. Carlos and your interaction was the catalyst to all of this and instead of Lando seeing it as an exchange between friends, he was taking it personally.

You turned back around and walked right up to him, nearly chest to chest when he straightened up from the wall. Lando and you didn’t usually fight, both of you knew how important communication and trust was and it was and after the rocky start you had, you never wanted to go back to a place of uncertainty with him.

But this was fucking annoying.

“That’s what you’re mad about, huh?” You asked, holding his stare. “The fucking comment. And you think that growing your facial hair out is, what, a way to get back at me? Because you know I hate it?”

Lando said nothing, a dead giveaway that you were 100% right and he was simply being immature for the sake of being immature.

“Okay,” you nodded, throwing Lando off when your tone went from deadly to calm before he could blink. “You want to be mad? Fine. I’ll give you something to be mad about.”

Lando watched as you walked back to the room and he hesitantly followed, trying to make sense of whatever that ominous warning was that just came out of your mouth. He didn’t say anything when you walked out of the closet, fully dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. An Enchante t-shirt even though he thought you were past wearing Danny’s merch. He didn’t say anything when you grabbed a backpack from under the bed and put your wallet and a few other necessities in there because it wasn’t like you were packing. This flat in London was basically your second home and this spat seemed too minor for you to be packing up your things and leaving.

But you were going somewhere.

“Where the hell are you going?” Lando asked when you finished brushing a comb through your hair. You slung the straps of the backpack over your shoulder and then, this was the kicker, you grabbed your passport that was sitting on top of the dresser.

You barely looked at him as you walked past him, your shoulder brushing against his before you headed straight for the door.

“Back to Monaco. See you in Canada.”

—————

You were true to your word. Cutting off communication with Lando until you landed in Montreal the Thursday before the grand prix weekend started.

Lando, in return, did not reach out. But he did make it perfectly obvious that he was growing out the facial hair again, making sure to post about it every chance he got. You swore you had never seen him share so many pictures on his photography account and were you a little upset he went to New York without you? Kind of, but you were stubborn and so was he and you had now found yourselves giving each other the cold shoulder over a goddamn comment on Carlos fucking Sainz’s instagram picture.

“What’s up with you and Lando?” Charles asked, an unmistakable pep in his voice that you raised your eyebrows at. He stood next to you on the balcony overlooking the paddock, arms rested over the railing and mirroring your position, but he cleared his throat and reworded his question. “It’s just, something’s up, no?”

You shouldn’t have been surprised he figured out there was tension. If Lando’s fans could put two and two together when you neglected to comment or even like any of his pictures, your own brother could figure it out too.

“He’s an idiot,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well I could have told you that,” Charles snorted. “What really happened?”

“I commented on Carlos’ picture a few weeks ago and Lando took it as me liking Carlos’ facial hair even though I made it perfectly clear I hated it when he was trying to grow out his hair.”

Charles took a second to repeat your words in his head, “He’s upset because you commented on Carlos’ moustache?”

You nodded, “And now he’s growing his facial hair out again out of spite.”

“This is about so much more than facial hair isn’t it?”

You clasped your hands together. You felt Charles’ eyes practically burning holes into the side of your head but you focused on the people wandering around the paddock.

“He’s just dramatic and immature,” you muttered, deciding that was an easier answer than to have a whole therapy session with him. “He’ll learn his lesson, though. I have an idea.”

“Why do I have a feeling you are also about to be dramatic and immature?”

You laughed in response, right as you spotted the exact person you needed to help you with this idea. You patted Charles on the arm and told him you’d see him later before you all but sprinted down the stairs of the motorhome to chase after the other Ferrari driver.

“Carlos!” You called out, running after him before he could get too far. He turned around when he heard his name, a smile on his face when he recognized the voice belonging to you.

You had to admit, the grown out facial hair did suit him. Carlos was always handsome but this made him look more mature, more distinguished.

“I need you to do me a favour,” you said, a playful smile painted on your lips.

Carlos nodded, “This sounds like deja vu.”

“It has to do with getting back at Lando.”

“Now it really sounds like deja vu,” His eyes widened momentarily as he thought back to what happened in the club when you last asked for his help. He was still traumatised from that DJ set. But Carlos loved you, platonically of course, he would always help you. “What do you need, hermosa?”

A few photographers started to crowd you and usually at this point, any driver would continue walking to get away from the unscheduled media harassment. But this was what you needed.

You raised your hand up to his jaw, thumb tracing over the hair he was growing out as a shimmer of adoration glossed over your eyes. Your lips curled upwards and Carlos, even though he was certainly confused, played along, loving any excuse to mess with Lando.

“Just tell me to kiss you and I will,” Carlos joked quietly, face only inches from yours, and you pushed on his chest in response. He caught you a little off guard when he reached for your hand and pulled you back before you could force some space between you.

You glanced at his lips as Carlos held your hand between your bodies. You reached up with your other hand to cup his chin lightly, thumb dangerously close to his lips. To anyone walking by, it most likely looked like you were about to kiss him.

But you got all that you needed.

“Thank you,” you whispered, shooting him a wink before you pulled yourself from his grasp and walked back to the Ferrari motorhome, knowing that the media was about to have a field day with those photos.

You didn’t see Lando at all in the paddock. Whether that was intentional on his behalf or not, you had no idea. You did, however, see your name blowing up on twitter along with all of the comments about how you and Carlos looked too damn friendly to be just friends.

Lando’s text came about an hour after your name started trending.

Charles told you that you potentially took it a step too far, having a few choice words himself to say about you and Carlos, all of which you tuned out and told him you knew what you were doing.

But you weren’t entirely sure who had the upper hand when you got your key from the receptionist and made your way up to Lando’s suite at the end of the night. You purposely took your time getting there, deciding to go out for dinner with a friend first before finding yourself at his hotel.

And now you were holding your breath as the card reader turned green and unlocked. You pushed the door open, not having anticipated seeing Lando sitting on the couch and leaning forward as he scrolled through his laptop that was perched on the coffee table. He heard you walk in, heard you put your bag on the counter, heard you slide your shoes off and clear your throat, but he didn’t look up once.

Lando simply turned the laptop around on the table so the screen was facing you instead. On the screen was a tweet, or maybe it was a photo from Instagram, you were standing too far away to tell the source but you could make out the image of you and Carlos.

More specifically, the image of you holding your hand against Carlos’ cheek and giving him the smile that was usually reserved for Lando. One he hadn’t seen in almost two weeks.

He clicked on the trackpad and the next one appeared. Much more intimate than the last as this was the photo that gave Lando a heart attack. He didn’t expect to open his phone after the media pen interview and see pictures of his girlfriend about to kiss his best friend.

You didn’t regret what you did, that little act. You didn’t actually do anything except plant an idea in Lando’s head.

“What do you want me to say?” You asked, gesturing to the laptop. You took a few, horribly slow, steps forward. You were nervous about how this conversation would go, but you knew how to mask your emotions enough and as Lando stood up, eyeing you over, you didn’t buckle under the weight of his gaze.

He scratched his chin, his overgrown stubble, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth.

You expected him to snap. To say something about the facial hair, about the photos, about Carlos. You hadn’t seen each other in weeks and you assumed that the first conversation you had would be a fight, because, let’s face it, you were both dramatic and immature.

But you didn’t expect his shoulders to drop and for his stare to go from cold to distant as he opened his mouth and asked a question that broke you the way nothing else in your life ever could.

“Do you love me?”

It caught you by surprise, “Do I-” You took a few steps forward, the wall you had up had now fallen and all you wanted to do was reach for him. “Why are you even asking that? Of course I love you. You know I love you.”

“So then why?” He asked, referring to the photos.

You exhaled a breath before responding, “Because you were making a big deal out of that stupid comment, Lando.”

He stepped forward too, closing the gap between you inch by inch, “I made the appropriate amount of deal over seeing my girlfriend flirt with someone on social media.”

He hadn’t raised his voice, not yet. It seemed that you both wanted to avoid that. You weren’t ones to yell at each other, you argued, yes, but your voices never echoed off the walls.

And you didn’t want to yell, not when you knew what this was really about.

Your lips parted, but you barely got a thought out, “Lando-”

“He still has feelings for you.” He stated, as if Carlos had told him that himself. “He still likes you and I know- I know you guys are friends, I can’t tell you not to be friends but I don’t like the way he looks at you. I don’t like that you are blissfully unaware that he’s into you, that he’s-”

“No, you know what I don’t like?” You cut him off sharply. “I don’t like that this is clearly something that’s bothering you and instead of talking about it to me from the beginning, you let it simmer and focus on things like comments and facial hair and being childish, Lando.”

When you stepped forward, Lando thought you were about to lose it on him. Instead, you lifted your hands to cup beneath his jaw, your thumbs gently tracing small circles on his cheek and Lando could finally breathe because this was the first time in days he was feeling your touch and even though things were strange between you, your hands holding his face in font of yours felt right.

“You need to talk to me about these things,” you told him. “If something’s eating at you like this. How was I supposed to know this was so much bigger than a stupid fucking moustache?”

Lando laughed at your question, because it really was insane when he thought about it. He should have told you about his distrust with Carlos instead of letting his frustration boil up.

“Lando, I love you,” you whispered with a soft chuckle. “I love everything about you, everything that matters. Your heart, your soul, the way you treat people, your sense of humour, the way I can trust you with absolutely everything, how you managed to win over my entire family and for fucks sakes, yes, I absolutely hate your facial hair but have you ever stopped and thought about why?”

Of course he hadn’t. Lando acted first and thought later.

He hesitated before asking, “Why?”

The corners of your mouth turned upwards, your eyes darting down to his lips as you pulled him closer, his hands finding your waist.

You lips hovered over his, teasing him with a ghost of a kiss, something just within his reach but when he tried to connect your lips you kept pulling back, leaving him hanging.

“Because it itches.”

Lando pulled his head back, still in your grasp but no longer trying to kiss you as confusion flashed over his features instead.

“Itches?”

“Itches,” you repeated with a slow nod. “I don’t like your facial hair-” you ran your thumb over his chin and the stubble he had grown out. “-because when you go down on me, it. Itches.”

Lando opened his mouth, only to close it promptly while your words sunk in. Of course that had never crossed his mind, that the feeling of his facial hair rubbing against the inside of your thighs, near your folds, would cause displeasure.

“And I’m sorry about the incident with Carlos,” you continued on, knowing you had to address it. “I’m not making excuses but if you are acting childish, I- in return -will also act childish. If I had known it was about more than facial hair, I wouldn’t have caused such a scene but god, Lando, I don’t give a shit about Carlos growing out a beard or a moustache because it’s not his lips on me. It’s not him eating me out.”

Lando cleared his throat, not surprised that you were so blunt with your choice of words. You always were. He was surprised, though, when you stepped away from him and turned around, leaving him a little speechless as you walked towards the bedroom.

Before stepping through the door frame, you glanced over your shoulder and raised your eyebrows at him, “Are you just going to stand there?”

That got him moving. He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off as he followed your footsteps, discarding the top behind him. When his arms slid around your waist, pulling your back into his chest, you melted into his hold.

You craned your neck, giving him more than enough access to press his lips to your skin. Your hands covered his as the quietest moan followed a strained exhale. He trailed his lips upwards, but refrained from going further, lifting his head up after just a few seconds.

You turned and looked at him, spotting that stupid grin on his face.

He nudged you towards the bed, “Get comfy, my love, I need to take care of something first.”

You didn’t need to question what he had to take care of. He planted a kiss on your cheek and retreated towards the bathroom. Doing what he said, you climbed atop the bed and you as well, had a stupid grin on your face when you overheard the dull sound of an electric razor trailing in from the hallway.

And god was it music to your ears.

#lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #ln4 #holllandtrash #6 to 1 series

1K notes · View notes

redclercs · 10 months

Text

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

ix. i'm so sick of running as fast as i can

— the one where they painted you out to be bad (so it's okay that you're mad).

warnings: fair warning you're going to be pissed, foul language, this one has more media between text and it's a little long. 2.3k words (+articles and a very long youtube thing!!)

currently playing: it's time to go by taylor swift!

masterlist ✢ next

By Alana Blake

YOU read it here first, friends. #YNCHARLES is still going strong even after the mess y/n found herself in during the Spanish Grand Prix weekend.

Rumor had it that after y/n's declarations where she said 'it was not serious' and 'she was just having fun', the Monegasque heartthrob dumped her immediately. This was fueled by the fact that we didn't see any pictures of them together during such weekend.

But sources have come to the rescue, letting us all know they're not broken up! "They talk every day for hours," our source said, "Both are still trying to keep it fun but more lowkey after everyone found out about the cheating."

RELATED: Victoria Presley's top five beauty hacks.

You would think that after a partner refers to you as a 'toy', dumping them is the best course of action, but apparently that doesn't apply to Mr. Leclerc who has "nothing but good things to say about y/n".

"He's excited to see her in New York before the Canada Grand Prix, they have it all planned out since she has her apartment back." The source added.

One thing is for sure, if we see y/n at the next Grand Prix, that's the big confirmation that they are together, since they blew their Elix cover by forcing them to end the contract.