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woniedarlin · 2 months ago

Note

can you, perhaps, do an idol! jungwon x reader fanfic? the setting would be reader accidentally texting jungwon and the reader is an engene as well, actually, but then reader and won keep talking but he doesn't reveal he is an idol until later!! reader could be in the industry as like a staff or smth!

Sent, Delivered, Loved

pairing: idol! Jungwon x staff! reader

synopsis: As a hardworking staff member at HYBE, the last thing you expected was to accidentally text the wrong number in the middle of a busy day. But instead of a confused reply, the person on the other end kept the conversation going. He was funny, easy to talk to, and somehow, you found yourself looking forward to his messages. You didn’t know his name, his face, or even his voice but you liked him. Which was ridiculous, right?

Oh, and the person you were texting? Yeah. It was Jungwon. THE Jungwon from enhypen.

author's note: Thank you for the amazing request, Anonie! I must say, it took me a whole month to finish this, but it was definitely worth it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy reading, everyone! 💖

warning: This is just for the plot and should never be taken seriously. Do NOT text random strangers 😭 and don’t ever fall for someone just through texting. Mentions of cursing and also slight angst.

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n @layzfy

You: bro wtf where r u???

You angrily jabbed at your screen. It was late, you were exhausted, and your friend, your so-called reliable colleague, was missing in action when you needed them most.

You: i swear to god if u left me to deal with this alone i’m blocking u forever.

A few seconds passed, and then-

Unknown Number: uh… hi??

You frowned. That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.

You: ???

You: don’t play dumb. u know what u did.

Unknown Number: i actually don’t. i think u have the wrong number??

Your eyes widened.

Oh.

OH.

You immediately scrolled up, checking the number you had just texted, only to realize that you had completely messed up one digit in your rush.

You: …omg wait. ur not Jiho?

Unknown Number: pretty sure i’m not.

You: oh my god kill me now. i’m so sorry.

Unknown Number: lmao it’s cool. what did this guy do to deserve ur wrath tho??

You sighed and debated whether or not to answer. But at this point, you’d already embarrassed yourself. Might as well go all in.

You: he bailed on me. we were supposed to finish this event setup for work but guess who’s suddenly “busy” 🙄

Unknown Number: damn. fake friend behavior.

You: RIGHT?? like i love him but i will fight him.

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared. Then, it appeared again.

Unknown Number: sounds like a rough job. must be intense working in the industry.

You blinked at your screen. That was… a little specific.

You: wait, how’d u know it’s the industry??

Unknown Number: u mentioned an event setup. unless ur hosting birthday parties on a tuesday night, i figured.

You: touché.

Unknown Number: so what do u do?

You hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t like this was confidential information, but still…should you be talking about work with a total stranger? Then again, you had already gone on a rant about your missing-in-action coworker, so what harm would a little more do?

You: just staff stuff. event coordination, assisting with schedules, making sure idols don’t get lost on the way to their own stages. u know. the usual.

Unknown Number: sounds like a nightmare.

You: it is <3

You chuckled, shaking your head at how easy it was to talk to this person.

Unknown Number: u must meet a lot of idols then.

You sighed.

You: yeah but it’s not as exciting as u think. they’re just people. some r nice, some r annoying, some act like they don’t know what a clock is.

Unknown Number: LOL. any favorites?

You raised an eyebrow at that.

You: what, r u an idol fan?

Unknown Number: maybe.

You: ok mysterious.

Unknown Number: u didn’t answer tho.

You hummed and think.

You: idk. if i had to pick… maybe enhypen? they’re cool.

A beat of silence. Then,

Unknown Number: good taste.

Weird. Before you could think too much about it, another message popped up.

Unknown Number: anyway, u still mad at ur friend or did u forgive him?

You rolled your eyes.

You: still mad. he better buy me food.

Unknown Number: solid plan. u deserve compensation.

You: exactly!! u get it.

And just like that, the conversation flowed on, stretching far past the frustration that started it. You didn’t know who this person was, but they were easy to talk to, and for some reason, you didn’t mind keeping the conversation going.

🫐

Over the next few weeks, your accidental text became a daily habit. You didn’t know why, but talking to this stranger was easy. Maybe it was because he had no expectations of you. He wasn’t a coworker, a superior, or an idol to impress. He was just some guy who sent back sarcastic texts and asked surprisingly thoughtful questions.

And for Jungwon, it was the opposite.

For the first time in a long while, he got to be a normal person. Not Jungwon, leader of Enhypen. Just some random guy in your messages. He didn’t have to worry about his image or if he was saying the right thing. You didn’t treat him differently. You teased him, called him bro, and sent blurry dinner photos.

And he liked it.

Maybe he never corrected you when you called him a nobody. Perhaps he looked forward to your messages more than he should.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you the truth.

🫐

You groaned as you dropped onto a chair in the break room. You are completely drained, and the past few hours have been horrible. Running back and forth between different rooms, handling last-minute requests, and nearly getting run over by a staff member pushing a cart too fast. At this point, your legs were made of jelly, your back ached, and your only source of comfort was-

You: listen here, u lil gremlin. i am suffering.

Unknown Number: ???

Unknown Number: what did i do this time 😭

You: EXIST. why am i here working my ass off while u get to sit there and breathe??

Unknown Number: maybe bc u have a job and i’m just a mysterious, incredibly cool stranger on the internet

You: mysterious, incredibly cool GREMLIN.

You: actually no. goblin. u give goblin energy.

Jungwon almost choked on his water. Goblin??

Unknown Number: EXCUSE ME.

Unknown Number: what part of me gives goblin energy???

You: idk. just a vibe. like a smug little goblin who laughs at my suffering.

Jungwon did, in fact, laugh at that. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.

Unknown Number: ok but real talk. what’s making u suffer this time

You: running around hybe like a headless chicken. setting up for another event. also why do idols need so many rooms. just share a table or smth smh.

Jungwon raised a brow.

Hybe.

So, you worked at Hybe. That confirmed it. You were in the same building as him, probably passing by his team without even realizing it.

Unknown Number: sounds rough. u need a raise tbh.

You: RIGHT?? finally someone with common sense.

Unknown Number: goblin says u should go get a snack or smth before u pass out.

You sighed before standing up and walking toward the nearest vending machine.

You: fine. but only bc goblin said so.

Jungwon grinned. He could get used to this nickname.

🫐

You still didn’t know his real name, and he still hadn’t told you what he did for a living. But weirdly enough, you didn’t mind.

One evening, after another long day of work, you flopped onto your bed and grabbed your phone.

You: goblin. tell me something random about u.

Unknown Number: hmm. i like cats.

You: ok well that’s basic. try again.

Unknown Number: wow ok. rude.

Unknown Number: fine. i used to do taekwondo when i was younger.

You: woah. that’s kinda cool. do u still remember any moves?

Unknown Number: maybe. depends. why? u planning to fight me?

You: depends. are u annoying today?

Unknown Number: always.

You rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself.

Unknown Number: ok my turn. tell me something random about u.

You: hmm. i can survive on just ramen and coffee for a whole week.

Unknown Number: that is not something to brag about.

You: shh. survival skills.

Unknown Number: more like self-destruction skills.

You laughed.

It was weird how easy it was to talk to him. Even without knowing what he looked like or what he did, you felt like you could tell him anything.

And somehow, you got the feeling that he felt the same way.

As you continued texting, an idea popped into your head.

You: btw. i’m giving u a nickname.

Unknown Number: oh? should i be concerned?

You: yes. but it’s happening anyway.

You changed his contact name and took a screenshot.

You: congrats. ur now “goblin” in my phone. [image attached]

Goblin: goblin again???? why.

You: idk u give me goblin vibes.

Goblin: i don’t know if i should be honored or offended.

You: both.

Goblin: …fair.

You grinned to yourself. Yeah, “Goblin” suited him just fine.

🫐

It was ridiculous.

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. This was getting out of control and liking someone you’d never seen. Someone you only knew through texts and calls? It was wild. But talking to Goblin had somehow become the best part of your day.

It wasn’t just his humor or the way he matched your sarcasm. It was the way he listened. The way he remembered small details. He never made you feel like you were talking too much, even when you went on long-winded rants about work.

And that was the problem.

Because now, you were catching feelings for someone who was like a ghost. What the fuck?

You sighed and stared at your phone.

You: goblin. tell me something.

Goblin: what kind of something?

You: something about you. anything.

Goblin: hmm. okay. i like late-night drives.

You: oh? fancy. what else?

Goblin: i sing a lot, but only when i’m alone.

You smiled.

You: what if ur actually really good but no one knows?

Goblin: oh, people know.

You paused, eyebrows furrowing.

You: ?? do u perform or smth?

There was a long pause.

Goblin: nah… let’s say i’ve had some practice.

You stared at the screen. You felt an odd feeling. But before you could ask more, he changed the subject.

And this was the pattern.

You’d ask about him, he’d give vague answers. It wasn’t like he was lying. He wasn’t telling you everything.

Meanwhile, Jungwon was losing his mind.

He liked you. Way more than he should.

He knew he should tell you the truth…that he wasn’t just some random guy but an idol, an Enhypen member, someone you admired without realizing he was the same person you texted every day.

But how was he supposed to do that without making you feel betrayed?

It didn’t help that you unknowingly talked about him all the time.

You: work was chaos today. my team had to set up for an engene event, and guess what? i had to carry a life-sized jungwon cutout.

Goblin: oh? lucky u. he’s pretty cool.

You: pls. i had to carry his smug face up three flights of stairs. not fun.

Goblin: bet he was judging u the whole way.

You: EXACTLY. i could hear him in my head like “hurry up, bitch.”

Jungwon nearly choked on his drink.

You: i mean, i love him, but he def gives rich, spoiled cat vibes.

Goblin: wow. tell me how u really feel.

You: LMAO SORRY. no but fr, i respect him a lot. he works so hard.

Goblin: yeah… he really does.

Jungwon smiled to himself.

But the longer he kept the truth from you, the worse it felt.

One day, he was going to have to tell you.

He just didn’t know how.

🫐

You had one job. Just one.

Don’t freak out. Don’t stare. Be professional.

Yet, here you were, standing in the same hallway as enhypen. Your heart was racing.

You hadn’t even meant to run into them. You were trying to deliver some documents to another department when you turned a corner, and bam! almost crashed straight into Jungwon himself.

“Ah, sorry!” You quickly stepped back and bowed.

“It’s okay,” he replied casually.

You kept your head down, gripping the files in your hands. You knew the rules. Staff weren’t supposed to interact too much with idols unless necessary. So, you did what you always did. You kept moving, not making eye contact.

But the moment you were out of sight, you whipped out your phone.

You: BRO WTF I JUST BUMPED INTO ENHYPEN HELP

Goblin: oh? ur alive?

You: BARELY. I almost DIED. I ran straight into Jungwon.

Goblin: sounds like a skill issue tbh.

You: SHUT UP. Anyway, I had to act normal and not fangirl. Pain.

Goblin: so u saw Jungwon up close, huh? thoughts?

You: he’s… really handsome actually like stupidly handsome.

Jungwon, reading the text, blinked.

Wait.

Something clicked in his head.

You just said you bumped into Enhypen.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought back to earlier.

A staff member had walked past them, avoiding eye contact. He hadn’t paid much attention, but now that he thought about it…

That had been you.

Jungwon’s breath hitched.

Holy shit.

You were the staff member he had occasionally seen around the company. He’d thought you were pretty before, but it never crossed his mind that you were you.

Now, everything made sense. The things you ranted about, your schedule, and the way you always seemed to know too much about his events.

He grinned to himself.

Goblin: so… if u had to rank the members by looks, where would jungwon be?

You: pls don’t expose me but top 1 actually. his visuals are insane irl.

Jungwon nearly dropped his phone.

🫐

Ever since Jungwon pieced together your identity, he couldn’t help but pay more attention whenever he saw you at the company.

It wasn’t full-on stalking. No, he wasn’t that creepy. But he started noticing little things.

Like how you always ran around, papers in hand, sometimes looking stressed and sometimes smiling at your coworkers. How you always carried an energy drink in the morning, eyes barely open as you dragged yourself through the halls. How you always pulled out your phone at random moments to text him.

And, most of all, how you never once looked at him.

Jungwon found it amusing. You had no idea that the same person you were texting as “Goblin” was now actively looking for you in a crowd.

He casually walked by your usual routes, trying to confirm his suspicions. If you were near, he’d glance discreetly, watching your reactions. You were always professional, always busy, always avoiding unnecessary attention.

But then, one day, he decided to test his theory.

Exhausted, you were standing near the entrance, rubbing your temples as another staff member spoke to you. You were frustrated, probably from another long day of work.

Jungwon, a few steps away, discreetly pulled out his phone and typed.

Goblin: u alive?

A second later, your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Jungwon didn’t even need to guess. The way your entire demeanor changed was all the confirmation he needed. Your tired frown softened. Your lips curled into a small smile.

Bingo.

Now he knew it was 100% you.

Later that night, he picked up his phone again.

Goblin: so, when’s ur funeral?

You: idk but work is definitely killing me first.

Goblin: want me to fight ur boss?

You: pls. throw hands.

Jungwon chuckled to himself. Oh, if only you knew.

🫐

It was late. You sat on your bed, staring at your phone screen. Without thinking too much about it, you opened your messages.

You: Goblin, you up?

A few seconds passed before the typing bubble appeared.

Goblin: For you? Always. What’s up?

You hesitated. You weren’t usually the type to unload your emotions onto others, but something about him…about this…felt safe.

You: I’m just tired. Really tired.

You: Sometimes I feel like no matter how hard I work, no one actually sees it.

You: Like, I put in all this effort, and it’s just… expected. Nothing special. And if I mess up even a little, suddenly it’s a big deal.

You stared at your screen, debating if you should delete the message, but a reply came in before you could.

Goblin: I know exactly how that feels.

That made you pause.

You: You do?

Goblin: Yeah.

Goblin: It’s like… the pressure never stops. People only see the results, not the work behind it. And when you succeed, it’s just “as expected.” But when you fail? That’s when they notice.

That was oddly specific.

You: Exactly. Like, can someone just acknowledge how exhausting it is??

Goblin: You deserve that acknowledgment. Even if no one else says it, I will: You’re doing amazing. And I mean that.

A small smile tugged at your lips despite the frustration.

You: Thanks, Goblin. That means a lot.

Goblin: Anytime.

A comfortable silence settled between you two. Then,

Goblin: Can I tell you something too?

You sat up a little straighter.

You: Of course.

A few seconds passed before he responded.

Goblin: Sometimes I feel like people don’t actually know me. They see what they want to see. They have all these expectations, and I try to meet them, but at the end of the day… I wonder if anyone would still like me if I wasn’t what they expected.

You stared at the message, something about it making your heart ache a little.

You: That sounds lonely.

Goblin: It is. But I guess I’ve gotten used to it.

Your fingers hovered over the screen keyboard before you started typing.

You: Well, I don’t know about them, but I like you. Just as you are. Even if you’re secretly a weirdo who texts strangers in the middle of the night.

There was a pause, then-

Goblin: Wow. I was about to be all deep and emotional, and you just had to call me a weirdo.

You laughed softly.

You: I’m just saying, you’re pretty cool. Whoever you are.

You didn’t realize it, but on the other side of the screen, Jungwon stared at your message for a long time. He felt something that was terrifying.

Because for the first time in a long while, he felt seen. And he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.

🫐

It’s late at night again, and you’re sitting at home, exhausted after another grueling day at work. Your feet ache, and your body feels heavy, but despite your exhaustion, you’re still awake because of him.

Your phone is open to your messages with Goblin, and you hesitate before typing.

You: be honest. do you ever think about what it’d be like if we met irl?

Jungwon, who was lying in bed, staring at his screen, felt his stomach drop.

Oh no.

Jungwon’s fingers hovered over his screen. His heart pounded as he read your message over and over again. Of course, he had thought about it every single day since realizing who you were. But if you knew who he really was… would you still want to meet?

After a long pause, he finally replied.

Goblin: hmm, maybe… but what if we meet and you’re disappointed?

He winced after sending it. That was a cowardly response, dodging the real issue.

Your reply came almost instantly.

You: lmao please. i bet ur like a middle-aged man with a receding hairline

You: but honestly. i do wonder. it’s weird, right? liking someone u never met??

Jungwon’s stomach flipped. Liking?

Before he could stop himself, his lips curled into a small smile. Did you really mean that? Or was it just a casual way of speaking? He needed to be careful.

Goblin: do u? like me, i mean

The second he sent it, he regretted it. It felt too direct. What if you got weirded out? He considered sending a follow-up message to downplay it, but before he could, his phone vibrated.

You: idk. maybe?

Jungwon stared at the screen, his ears burning. You liked him? But you didn’t even know who he was.

And that was the problem.

He couldn’t keep lying to you.

Taking a deep breath, Jungwon sat up in bed. His fingers moved over his keyboard, hesitating for a long moment before he typed-

Goblin: Hey, can I call you?

🫐

Your phone buzzed in your hand. An incoming call. From Goblin.

Your stomach flipped. He had never called before. Hesitating for a second, you stared at the screen before finally answering.

“Hello?”

There was a pause, then-

“Hey.”

Your breath hitched. His voice was… smooth. Gentle. Familiar in a way. You sat up straighter.

“Wow. So you do have a voice,” you teased trying to mask your nervousness.

He let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah… I figured it was time.”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, this time more serious.

“I have to tell you something.”

Your heart pounded. “What is it?”

Jungwon took a deep breath on the other end. His hands clenched into fists, but this was it. No more hiding.

“I know who you are.”

Your brows furrowed. “Huh?”

“we’ve met before. A lot of times.”

“Wait—what are you saying?”

Jungwon hesitated. “I’m not just some random guy.”

“I’m Jungwon.”

Silence.

Your mind raced. Jungwon? Only one Jungwon immediately came to mind, but that was impossible.

“Jungwon…?” Your voice came out weaker than you wanted.

“Yeah.” Another pause. “Yang Jungwon.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

No.

No way.

The leader of Enhypen. The same Jungwon you had bumped into at the company a few times. The same Jungwon whose songs you had on your playlist.

The same Jungwon you had been texting for months.

You felt your whole world tilt.

“You’re kidding.” You whispered.

“I’m not.” His voice was cautious. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I was scared. I liked talking to you like this. Just as… me.”

Your grip on the phone tightened. You were shocked, confused, and something dangerously close to betrayal.

You had confided in him and talked about your job, talked about him, without knowing it was actually him.

Your mind was spinning.

“I—” You swallowed hard. “I need a minute.”

Jungwon��s heart sank. He could hear the sadness in your voice.

“I get it.” His voice was soft. “Take your time.”

But as the call ended, a heavy silence settled between you.

And Jungwon could only hope he hadn’t just lost you forever.

🫐

You had deleted his contact the second you found out the truth. It was impulsive, but even now, you felt guilty.

You never gave him a chance to explain.

Not that you owed him one. He had lied to you for months. He let you vent about work, about idols, about him. All while hiding that he was the person you were unknowingly talking about. Still, a small part of you wondered what he would have said if you had stayed long enough to hear him out. But it was too late now. You had cut him off, and life had to move on.

So you threw yourself into work, acting like nothing happened. But something felt… different.

For one, your workload, usually overwhelming, had mysteriously lightened. Tasks you had been dreading were suddenly reassigned. Even the small mistakes you made generally earned you a scolding and seemed to go unnoticed.

At first, you thought it was just luck. But then, little things started to stand out.

One evening, after a long day, you dragged yourself into a break room, exhausted. You had been assigned to help with an event that had left you completely drained. As you slumped into a chair, your coworker sighed beside you.

“Lucky you,” she muttered and stretched her arms. “I heard you were supposed to be on cleanup duty tonight, but someone switched it at the last minute.”

You blinked. “Wait… what?”

Your coworker shrugged. “Dunno. Some higher-up pulled some strings, I guess. Maybe you’ve got a guardian angel or something.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. A guardian angel? Yeah, right.

Meanwhile, Jungwon watched from the shadows, unseen. He knew he had no right to interfere. Not after what he had done, but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

So he helped in the only way he could.

He stayed silent and watched from a distance. Making sure you were okay. Doing whatever he could to ease your burden, even if you never found out.

Because if he couldn’t have you back in his life… this was the least he could do.

🫐

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand just as you were about to go to bed.

You groaned, rolling over to grab it, eyes squinting at the screen. Unknown Number.

For a second, you debated letting it ring, but curiosity got the better of you. With a sigh, you swiped to accept the call and pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

Silence.

You frowned. “Uh… hello?”

Finally, a voice. “Hey… it’s me.”

You pulled the phone away, staring at the number. It was definitely not saved in your contacts.

“…Sorry, who is this?” you asked cautiously.

A pause. Then, a chuckle. “Did you delete my number that fast?”

Your stomach dropped.

That laugh. That tone.

It hit you all at once.

Your fingers clenched around the phone. “Jungwon.”

Another silence. Then, softly-“Yeah.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like you couldn’t breathe.

Your brain scrambled to find something to say, but you could only stare blankly at your ceiling.

“I—What do you want?” Your voice came out smaller than you intended.

Jungwon exhaled as if he had been holding his breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… I just needed to hear your voice.”

Your grip on the phone tightened.

“You shouldn’t have called,” you muttered. “You shouldn’t—”

“I know,” he cut in. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I couldn’t help it.”

You shut your eyes. “Jungwon, I—”

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he rushed out. “I should’ve told you a lot of things.”

Your chest ached.

“I knew it was you,” he continued. “I figured it out early. But I didn’t say anything because I was selfish. I didn’t want you to treat me differently. I didn’t want to lose what we had. I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t pretending,” he said softer now. “Everything I said to you was real.”

You pressed your palm against your forehead. You were overwhelmed.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but…” Jungwon hesitated. “Can I see you?”

Your heart pounded.

Could you face him? After everything?

🫐

You didn’t know why you said yes.

Maybe it was curiosity. Perhaps because you missed the feeling of something that had once felt so real. Or perhaps you weren’t as ready to let him go as you told yourself. So now, here you were. Your jacket covered your pj’s underneath. The air was cold, but not nearly as cold as the tension between you and the boy standing a few feet away. For a moment, neither of you spoke. He was wearing a hoodie, hands tucked into the pockets, eyes looking from you to the ground because he didn’t know where to start.

Seeing him now, after everything, felt surreal.

You swallowed. “So… you changed your number just to call me?”

Jungwon let out a soft laugh. “Yeah.”

You shook your head. “That’s insane.”

“I know.” His lips quirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I tried to leave you alone. I did. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You clenched your jaw, “You lied to me.”

Jungwon’s expression fell. “I know.”

“You let me embarrass myself. You let me tell you things…things I wouldn’t have said if I knew who you were.” Your voice was with frustration and hurt. “Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”

“I do,” Jungwon said quietly. “And I hate myself for it.”

There was silence again. Then, Jungwon decided to take a slow step closer.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said. “I swear. I liked talking to you. I liked that you didn’t see me as an idol. You treated me like a normal person. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like one.”

You exhaled sharply and looked away.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Jungwon continued. “But if any part of you still wants this, still wants me, then I’ll do anything to fix this.”

Your fingers tightened around the sleeves of your jacket.

Do you still want this?

Did you still want him?

You let out a bitter laugh while shaking your head. “You know what’s funny?”

Jungwon stayed quiet.

“I used to think it was ridiculous,” you admitted. “Liking someone you’ve never even met. Someone you only talked to through a screen.” You let out a breath. “But then… it happened.”

Jungwon’s expression softened, but he didn’t say anything.

“I told myself it wasn’t real,” you continued. “That it was just the comfort of having someone to talk to. It was easy to fall for someone when all you had were words and late-night conversations.” You swallowed. “But it felt real. And when everything came crashing down, it hurt like it was real.”

“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” you admitted. “But I did.”

Jungwon’s breath hitched. “You…”

“I liked you,” you said firmly this time. “I liked Goblin. Not Jungwon, not an idol. Just you.”

His hands twitched like he wanted to reach for you, but he held himself back.

“I ruined it,” he murmured. “Didn’t I?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know.”

It was the truth.

Jungwon was bracing himself for the worst.

You sighed and looked down at your feet. “I forgive you.”

He sucked in a breath. “You do?”

You nodded, “But…”

The relief that had started to settle in his features quickly faded.

“I want to take it slow,” you said carefully. “I want to learn more about you. You, not just the person I texted late at night.” You exhaled. “And I don’t know what to do, Jungwon. Even just meeting you here feels like I’m walking on thin ice.”

Jungwon pressed his lips together. He understood.

“If anyone finds out…” you hesitated as you glanced around as if someone could be listening. “I could lose my job. You could ruin everything you’ve worked for.”

“I know,” he murmured.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, “Then why are you even here?”

“Because you’re worth the risk.”

Your heart stuttered.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he said. “But I also don’t want to rush you. If you want to take it slow, we will.” He smiled. “I can wait. I mean, we already spent months texting. I think I can handle a little more patience.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips.

“Okay,” you said softly. “Then let’s take it slow

🫐

Months Later

You were swamped with work, running from one task to another, barely catching a break. The office was hectic as usual, with staff members moving in and out, handling schedules, coordinating events, and making sure everything for the idols ran smoothly. You had settled into a routine again, though now and then, you’d catch yourself glancing at your phone, wondering if he would first text.

Your relationship with Jungwon had been… complicated. Ever since that night, you had both taken slow but careful texts, occasional calls, and a few fleeting encounters in the company's hallways. He was still an idol, and you were still a staff member. Even though no one knew about the two of you, there was always a risk.

As you finished organizing some paperwork, your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Goblin: Come outside.

Your brows furrowed.

You: I’m working??

Goblin: Just for a second.

You sighed. But curiosity got the best of you, and you slipped out of the office, making your way toward the quieter side of the building. As soon as you stepped outside, you spotted him. Jungwon, standing near one of the company vans, dressed in casual clothes, a cap pulled low over his face. Even with his attempt to stay hidden, you could still recognize him.`

“What are you doing here?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Jungwon smiled, “I wanted to see you.”

You rolled your eyes. “We texted last night.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same,” he replied smoothly. “And I figured you could use a little break.”

You sighed. “Jungwon—”

Before you could argue, he held up a small bag. “I got you coffee.”

You blinked. “What?”

“And a snack.” He grinned, holding it out to you. “Figured you’d be too busy to get one yourself.”

You took the coffee from his hands, fingers brushing his for a fleeting second. “…Thanks, Goblin.”

Jungwon smirked. “You really won’t change that nickname, huh?”

“Nope,” you said and took a sip.

He huffed out a laugh.

You gave him a look. “What? You don’t like it?”

Jungwon stepped closer. “I don’t hate it,” he admitted before he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your mouth.

You barely had time to process it before he pulled away, grinning. “But I’d rather you call me something else.”

Your brain is short-circuited. “Like what?”

He shrugged, walking away with a smug face. “I don’t know. Maybe boyfriend?”

Your face burned as you gaped at him. “Jungwon!”

He only laughed, waving over his shoulder. “See you later, pretty.”

And just like that, he left you standing there, speechless.

You stared after him, then scoffed to yourself with a small smile.

“Guess ‘Goblin’ wasn’t so bad after all.”

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itoshiexx · 1 year ago

Text

running your fingers through their hair

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ itoshi rin, michael kaiser, reo mikage (separate) + cafuné (n.) - running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

notes: omg hi guys! i'm freaking ALIVE!!! i know i've been terribly inactive but life as a recently graduated lawyer has been INSANE and i barely have time to breathe, let alone write. regardless, i was able to finish this after some struggle, and i really hope you guys like it! cafuné is a brazilian word and it's something i love very much, so thank you anon, @kyukiss and @etoiile for the request and sorry it took so long ♥

event masterlist

Itoshi Rin

“you remind me of a dog, you know?”

rin’s eyes shoot open with your unexpected words, and you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever witnessed on his face when it came to you.

“excuse me?”

his tone is supposed to be threatening, but his voice is slightly laced with sleep, so it sounds a lot more like a whine. you snort a little bit, pausing your ministrations on his head, where your fingers run through his hair.

“not in a bad way, baby. i just mean you’re like a puppy when you want my attention,” you giggled a little, and if rin didn’t love the sound so much, he would have berated you.

“that’s absolutely not true.”

“it is, though. you came back from practice all tired and grumpy, and the first thing you did was put your head on my lap because you wanted me to run my fingers through your hair. you didn’t even showered, rin.”

“i did shower! on the locker rooms!”

you smile mischievously. “oh, i thought the dampness was from sweat. i was about to call you out for being stinky.”

rin’s grimace worsened, and a pout formed on his lips. you couldn’t resist the urge to squish his cute cheeks together. god, he was so adorable it tugged on your heartstrings. how was that even possible?

you lowered your head to give him a quick kiss, and although rin tried to deepen it, you pulled away fast, grinning once again. he knew what was coming even before you said it. “you’re also like a puppy when you trail after me around the house. a lost puppy.”

his groan reverberated through the whole apartment, and rin shoved your hands away from his face, scowling. “i fucking hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

“i hate you. i’m serious.”

you giggled again. “so why didn’t you leave my lap then?”

his eyes met yours, and you kind of relished in the furrow of his brows. it made his pout even cuter. “…what.”

smugness radiated off of you, because you knew rin — your rin — like the back of your hand. and if there was an universal truth in the world, it would be that the younger itoshi was down bad for you. enough for him to stay despite your shenanigans that always got on his nerves.

“i said, if you hate me, then why didn’t you leave my lap?”

his mouth opened, but no retort came out. he gaped like a fish for a few seconds before groaning again, turning his body so that he could hide his face on your stomach. you laughed at his childish behavior, knowing it was one of the reasons you loved him so much. not many people were able to see this vulnerable side of him, and you were glad to be one of them.

“shut up.”

“yeah, yeah. you big baby.”

comfortable silence engulfed the both of you, and rin remained hidden on your stomach as you picked up the book you were previously reading, wanting to continue the story. though your left hand was suddenly tugged to lay on your boyfriend’s head.

“keep going,” he murmured, “…please?”

a gentle smile took over your features, and you were quick to run your fingers through his dark, silky strands. rin sighed softly, content with the affection you gave him — as if your angelic hands could take away every doubt swirling on his mind and wipe off the tiredness from his sore body.

“of course,” you said. and your mind completed silently: i’d keep going forever if it made you happy.

perhaps you were down bad, too.

Michael Kaiser

contrary to popular belief, michael kaiser was not a bad boyfriend.

despite his huge ego, his narcissistic tendencies and his extravagant yet somehow rude personality, he wasn’t the type of guy to treat his partner poorly. in fact, he was a very attentive boyfriend, always doing his best to make sure you were happy and healthy.

or maybe it was just you. who knows.

whatever his reasons were, you relished the fact he took such good care of you, even if he wasn’t physically present because of away games — because michael was very good at making people notice him. whether it was with a bouquet of your favorite flowers delivered to your job, a nice breakfast cooked before you woke or even a small note of love professions.

however, nothing really compared to having him there, with you, flesh and bone.

especially on those days you just felt so miserable you wanted to disappear.

“liebling? you okay?”

it was one of kaiser’s rare day offs, and all you wished for was to spend some much needed quality time with your boyfriend. though, this wasn’t possible due to your job, one you liked having despite michael saying he could support the both of you financially.

but the day at work just sucked. like, a lot. it was that kind of day where things go from bad to worse in a matter of minutes, and when you swear it can’t get shittier, it does.

you were exhausted and emotionally drained. the whole drive back to your shared apartment you were holding back tears, and the dam broke the second you heard kaiser asking you that.

“whoa!” the blonde exclaimed when your bodies collided on a tight hug. “what is it, engel? what happened? did someone hurt you?”

his worried tone just made you sob harder, and kaiser rubbed his hands on your back, trying to give you some comfort. he started to sway your bodies together while humming, doing everything to calm you down.

eventually, your sobs died down, and your boyfriend carefully brought you to the couch, making you lay on top of him; head on his chest. he started to gently scratch your scalp, running his long fingers through your hair.

“you feeling any better?” he asked in a low tone.

“yeah. thank you, mikka.”

the blond only hummed. “do you… want to talk about it?”

you had to stifle a giggle. god, he was so cute. even when he sucked at talking about feelings, he always made an effort for you.

you slowly shook your head. “jus’ had a really bad day. but it’s okay now.”

his eyes softened impossibly, and you nearly swooned at the sight. “yeah?”

michael kissed your forehead, and kept threading his fingers among your locks in a gentle caress. you smiled, because it was all you really needed to be comforted.

“yeah.”

Mikage Reo

reo’s body collapsed on top of yours, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. you should have been used to it by now, really, since he’d always do that after you finished your smexy times, but sometimes it still caught you off guard.

“reo, you’re heavy,” you groaned, teasing him. “get off me!”

“give a guy a break, will you?” he whined. “i’m tired.”

your giggle reverberated through his body, and reo repositioned himself to lay his head on your chest, hugging your waist tightly as if to never let you go. he’d rather lose all his fortune before he let that happen.

“is mr. athlete getting out of shape? i didn’t know this light exercise could make you so…”

your boyfriend interrupted you with a groan. “babe!”

you raised your hands in mock surrender, giggling again, and reo thought maybe he didn’t really care about your teasing if it meant seeing you this happy. he loved you in all your versions, but carefree was his favorite one.

“sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

before he could make a suggestive joke, his breath hitched in his throat when your soft hands started caressing his hair, gentle fingers threading through his purple locks making him sigh. it was so unfair, he thought, how you managed to disarm him with just a small touch, reduce him to putty in your palms with a little gesture of affection. some of his friends said he was a fool in love, and reo couldn’t agree more.

your love made him silly, but he didn’t hate it. he could never hate anything about you. all mikage reo was able to feel was love, love, love, an emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed all of his senses, making him forget about all his worries and responsibilities — heck, even the whole world. and he didn’t mind if the world burned as long as he could keep you safe and away from the flames.

“what are you thinking about?” the whisper of your voice echoed the walls of your shared bedroom.

“what makes you think i’m thinking about something?”

though reo couldn’t see you, he knew you rolled your eyes.

“it’s usually how the human mind works, honey,” you answered, your wit making him stifle a laugh. “besides, you’re always so chatty, talking my ear off—”

“hey!”

“—so it always concerns me when you get quiet.”

the heir sighed, letting the silence linger a little longer to recollect his thoughts. reo usually didn’t have a hard time expressing himself with words, but sometimes his heart swelled so much it made it hard to think. so, pretty much every time he was with you.

“it’s just… i’m thinking about how i never really believed in past lives and reincarnation. i never really believed in soulmates, either,” he said, and you paid attention to every word. mesmerized by the wonder in his voice and even more by the sparkle in his purple eyes when he averted his gaze to yours.

“but when i think about you, love… when i see you in my arms or when i rest in yours, i’m sure you are my soulmate, and that we were together in every lifetime. it’s always been you. it will always be.”

your chest swelled with love for the man laying in your embrace, and you tried to hold back the tears from falling. god, he was everything. you didn’t even know what you did to deserve a lover like mikage reo, but you were far from complaining.

you gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, trying to convey even a fraction of the love and adoration you held for him, and looked back to caress his face. then, smiling with the world in your eyes, you answered:

“it’s always been you, too.”

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seraphdreams · 1 year ago

Text

SMILE, YOU'RE ON CAMERA. | YUUTA OKKOTSU.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. when taking care of your university finances proves troublesome, the universe grants you your very own savior. but it’s gonna cost you.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, college au!yuuta / bimbo reader (obvi), filming, lots of porn references… a lot, virginity loss, praise, oral n fingering, slight obsession, pussydrunk yuuta, unprotected love making, yuuta’s rich and unsettling. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 5.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! omg, yuuta? i meant to have this out a few weeks ago but got caught in a little writing slump :( nevertheless, here’s to a new year and a new fic! yuuta’s been slowly creeping his way up my favs list , tehe !! as always, please reblog / comment if you enjoyed this , it’ll fill me with joy. thank u ♡

you’re a pornstar.

albeit, an amateur one with heaps to learn regarding the ruthless industry, but the weight still stands.

the details in which you came to the jarring conclusion were muddled with the convoluted steps that it took for you to get there, murky in your bubblegum-filled mind. all you knew was that yuuta okkotsu was a force, a gentle one, to be reckoned with.

it must’ve played out once you returned to your campus dorm beyond the dusk of midnight, under an unmitigating fatigue from the twelve hour waitressing shift just prior. through abhorrent patrons and the lack of a spendable paycheck, the excruciatingly long night barely made you enough money to even think about buying those dollish pumps you’ve been yearning for. how cruel.

in between working and haphazardly handing your earnings over to university fees and textbooks, you just couldn’t seem to make ends meet.

you would curse the day you took it upon yourself to branch away financially from your parents under the guise of growing up, since now it’d be a blessing to have even a cellphone bill paid off. whatever the issue seemed to be, lady luck was truly never bothered enough to be on your side.

fortunately for you, though, it was that same arduous night, you had been huddled against your stuffed animals in bed, mindlessly scrolling through the various social media apps on your phone; switching from sites like instagram and twitter to youtube then right back to instagram all over again, only to be met with an offer dusted in pink glitter that caught your eye as if it were made for you.

“stars needed — will pay upfront.”

it was a shoddy story post, one that could be clicked past and forgotten forever — yet, a brisk reminder of your situation in the form of borrowed, used textbooks with pages missing or vandalized, and today’s horoscope that said to take risks; you did exactly that, aiming a swipe up that would ultimately rid you of the worries of yesterday.

there were no reasons as to why you couldn’t be a star. certainly, you had the face for it, and you were told by multiple charmers that you were beyond beguiling to get anything you could ever ask for. what dismay could possibly unfold from contacting .. yuuta okkotsu .. about his offer?

hm, that’s funny. the name rang familiarity as it seeded in your mind.

must be one of yuuji’s friends.

itadori yuuji, your best friend of three years now. out of all the time you’d spent together, you came to realize that he could get along with anyone, despite their true intentions. he spoke highly of his friends as well, which earned him a sacred spot in your heart that couldn’t be replaced by anyone.

itadori had briefly mentioned in a ramen-fueled frenzy that one of his peers were “so insanely talented” and that you’d definitely get on with him. but when you asked for validity on that vague claim, all yuuji seemed to respond with was a mere “just meet him, you’ll see.”

from your recollection, the acquaintance he was boasting about, as if it was his own personal victory, was none other than your yuuta okkotsu. he was meek, stuck to a close-knit friend group consisting of maki and toge from your physics class, and the one time you ever spoke to him was to ask about yuuji’s whereabouts, to which he responded that he went back to his dorm after gojo-sensei’s lecture.

he seemed, normal. average, even. that surely had to be the case since your memory was hazy on his being otherwise.

it was true, though, yuuta was gifted. in a way that transcended words, skillful towards visual aesthetics, and careful with the craft. he would spend most of his freetime fumbling with a camera or recording the works of the mundane. overtly, he’d grown such a strong passion in the field of videography in hopes to capture the reality of humanity, the authenticity within intimacy — what could he possibly need a “star” for?

shadiness aside, you were in a tough spot, willing to do whatever to free yourself from the financial burden that was jujutsu technical university. with a swift swipe in tandem with the soft tapping of the pads of your thumbs on the keyboard, you were taking yuuta up on his offer.

within seconds, he responded back with his address and an appropriate meet-up date to start the project.

if only you were aware of how drastically your life would change from here on out.

a cluster of days had passed since you last got into contact with yuuta. he had told you to meet him at his place, claiming it would be more efficient than traveling to an unnamed destination with pounds of heavy photography equipment.

where you stood currently, was in front of the bare oak of his front door, hand wrapped in a loose fist as you knocked gently on the wood. a quick moment had passed by before you took initiative to raise your fist and knock once more. before your touch could meet the wood, a muffled “coming!” chimed beyond the door. from what you had heard on the other side; the scuttling behind the door and jingle of the lock, yuuta had opened the door soon after.

with his hand rubbing away the goosebumps that stood at the back of his neck, he beamed. cordially, warmly.

“you’re actually here. hi,”

upon first glance, yuuta had a distinct look. he stood tall, not tall enough to matter or incite intimidation, and although he wore a black button-up (a bit formal for an occasion as casual as today), his lean build shone through under the thin fabric, ripples of veins dancing up his forearms. what you couldn’t miss, however, were the grey eyebags under his emotionless navy orbs, as if he’d forgone weeks of sleep.

yuuta okkotsu was unsettling.

“hi,” your voice sounded as a sweet croon, dulcet enough that you could barely hear it yourself as it escaped in a breathy breeze. his smile grew softer in response, that monotonous gaze in his eyes fizzling away into something of serenity. “come in, please,�� yuuta held the door open wider for you to tread past, caught up in observing the bunch of fabric that hugged tightly around your ass, then closed it gently behind you once you stepped completely inside. he silently cursed at himself for ogling — he truly didn’t mean to stare. you’re just a lot prettier up close. “i was just getting set up. you can have a seat if you’d like.”

as you’d expect from any guy your age, his place wasn’t much to gaze at, nor did it have much personality. in a corner to your right was a houseplant, that of the fern variety, and a few steps deeper into the abode was the living room, where yuuta resumed his fumbling with the transfiguration of his tripod.

you decided to sit on the couch across from him, taking in the bleak sight of his home. you would have almost believed it was unlived in had it not been for the scattered midterm review papers decorating his coffee table. it was obvious he had money from the endless rows of space that surrounded the two of you, although a candle or something would be nice.

he peered away from his tripod to look through the viewfinder of his camera, ensuring that the lens was functioning properly. he grew pleased to see the image of you distracted in fiddling with your thumbs reflected back at him. “are you nervous?” his gaze fell upon you through his own eyes, a concerned expression harboring his features.

you were pulled out of your muse of unfamiliarity to direct your attention to the sound of his mild voice, returning a smile to his that eased the worriment trapped behind dull, blue eyes. “n-not really, i don’t think.”

his lips curled up once more at that, in fact there wasn’t a time so far that you hadn’t noticed him without his signature smile. “here, let me help with that,” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, tapping away at the screen before ultimately turning it back off and settling it back into its place in his pocket.

your phone vibrated beside you, screen lighting up with a bold alert.

[YUUTA OKKOTSU SENT $1000]

before you had a chance to even process the significance of the notification, he started back up,

“i hope i got the right information, wouldn’t want your hard work to get in the wrong hands.” the tilt of his head in tandem with a chuckle resonated sheepishly, and he returned to watch you through his camera lens.

he was right. the money did soothe your nerves.

“i’ve barely done anything yet.” a ditzy giggle followed soon after your sentence, a sound that yuuta couldn’t possibly ignore. you were already starting to pull at his heartstrings.

“and you’ve done it so perfectly,” his praise left you flustered in that moment and you bit down softly on your lower lip to keep your smile at bay. “thank you, yuuta.”

you would’ve never guessed that your introverted classmate had enough experience in him to be such a flirt, or have your cheeks heating up with fervid affection, no less. but maybe yuuta was just like that; maybe this had been natural.

“no, thank you.” his thumb hovered over the record button just as his eyes met your gaze over the brim of the camera. “would you like to start now?”

he took the nod of your head as confirmation to press the record button, finally getting started with the project.

you blinked blankly at him as he tilted his head and flashed a warmhearted grin. “how old are you?” was his first question. he had asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. as he did so, you took notice of the silver ring donned around his finger.

he couldn’t have been married, no?

keeping your answer as vague as possible for the sake of matching his comforting warmth, you responded, “twenty-something.” he let out a satisfied huff of air as he nodded and moved onto his next query.

“and what’s your major?”

with the question barely having enough time to linger in the suggestively tense air, he added, “you’re very beautiful, by the way. do you mind taking your dress off for me?”

as much as it should’ve alarmed you, you were swayed by his toothachingly inviting timbre, its gentleness pulling compliancy from you in a matter of a few mere words. you only shook your head, forgoing the short piece of fabric that clung to each curve and dip of your body while your nipples hardened under the glacial, artificial breeze of his home. once the silk pooled at your hips, that, along with your panties were dropped onto the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable under the camera — and yuuta’s watchful eye.

he swallowed thickly at the sight, remaining as respectful as he could despite the monster growing in his pants; his eyes locked right back onto yours as if he’d get striked down for moving them even a millimeter south. “are you a virgin?” he queried, opting to move his hand from awkwardly at his side to fidgeting with the button at his shirt, ultimately undoing it and revealing another inch of skin at his heated chest.

from the nature of what you had signed yourself up for, you were hesitant to answer his question. of course you needed experience to be a star, and with you lacking the preconceived ability, you could kiss your $1000 goodbye..

yet he looked at you with an expectant gaze. no traces of malice in his eyes or frustration from your quick witted silence, but merely, with patience. and in that moment you couldn’t find it within yourself to lie.

“i am,” out of shame, you curled in on yourself, hoping that the sofa would engulf you, and your feelings, crossing your arms over your bare chest as if it’d create a wall of privacy behind your own humiliation. “is that okay?”

yuuta’s being only grew warmer at the response, you figured he’d be hot to the touch by now, from searing pleasure or unshakeable cordiality, you wouldn’t know. “yeah, that’s okay,” it came out breathier than he would’ve liked, a telltale sign of his aching desire. “that’s more than okay.”

truth be told, he had never met anyone as enchanting as you. you looked up at him with such trust in your eyes that it daunted him — fear that the assurance he wielded from you would shatter beneath him, and he’d be drowning. in a sea of his own wistfulness. now that he had you, he couldn’t let you go.

you were on to make a breathtaking star.

now feeling less coy than before, you relaxed your head into the palm of yuuta’s hand. you hadn’t noticed how long he’d been stroking at your cheek, or when he closed the vexing proximity between the two of you, all that mattered in that moment was the roll of his gentle vocables flowing through your ears and the thumb of his that graciously caressed your cheek.

you came to realize that he was much more handsome this way as your eyes toured his own, then down to the sliver of sweat-sheened skin peeking from underneath the black veil of his shirt, then down to his…

he’s so fucking hard.

confined against his slacks was his cock that leaked an ample amount even while it was untouched. you could make out its silhouette, something girthy, perhaps heavy, but nothing like you’d expect from yuuta. uncharacteristically huge.

“yuuta.” you whispered, mainly to yourself, as your mouth began to water at the sight, and his cheeks dusted pink once he realized what you were fixated upon.

“do you wanna,” he started up but faltered soon after when your lidded gaze flitted back up towards his. never had he felt so weak before, it was as if you’d casted a spell on him. “do you maybe want to—” he paused to avert his own gaze and embarrassment. “—put it in your mouth?”

he could’ve sworn he heard the increase of his heartbeat in his ears when you crinkled your brows, pretty face forming into an even prettier pout.

“but i’ve never—”

he stopped you before you could start, interjecting his own voice of reassurance.

“it’s okay. i’ll guide you,” taking his camera off its stand and moving the rest of the configuration elsewhere, he held it in one hand to better capture the scene unfolding before him. “just try your best for me, okay?”

“okay.” when he returned your concern with a small smile, you took it upon yourself to undo the arrangement of his pants, carefully hooking your finger into the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulling down just enough for his length to spring free.

for what felt like minutes, you marveled at his sheer size, wondering how anyone of his nature could possibly be hiding something like that. it curved upwards with a prominent vein or two running up the underside while it continued to leak, so much so, that you had to collect it all at the tip with your finger.

the tip? flushed the prettiest pink you’d ever witnessed and was as bulbous as it was mushroomed, you knew you’d have a bit of difficulty trying to fit into your mouth. it seemed to twitch under the fanning of your breath to which yuuta let out a whine of pure impatience.

“can i..?” your words trailed off when you involuntarily found yourself pressing chaste kisses along the length of his cock until they met with his sticky tip; a recreated scene from the various porn videos you’d seen. the sensation sent a jolt of palpable pleasure through his being, yuuta’s dark hair curtaining over his eyes while he made a damn good attempt at silencing his moans, with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip.

your eyes kept watch at his wavering expression while you wrapped your hand at the base of his length and began to pump slowly, yet another thing you had learned through the fascinating world of porn.

“suck it,” it was clear to you that yuuta had grown desirously impatient from your teasing, looking down at you with a hint of hunger in his beautiful orbs. “please?”

you took his words as an incentive to finally give him what he’s been leaking for, wrapping gloss-sheened lips around the thick inches of his tip, accommodating for the stretch with a dulcet whine that reverberated deeply within him. had you not been caught up in building the gradual bob of your head, he would’ve kissed you, left you with smeared lips and a tongue that ached for only him upon seeing the sinful sight of innocent eyes fixated on his own. you’re beautiful. truly, to die for.

caught all on tape to be watched over and over again.

at the bliss, yuuta’s lip parted open, alotting for a slur of groans turned whimpers to tumble past. “you- you’re already doing, so good.” he praises, the words floating on his breath. his free hand finds itself back at your face, thumbing the warmth of your hallowed cheek while he captured the moment behind his lens. once you came to a comfortable rhythm, you couldn’t stop yourself from dipping your fingers between your thighs to ease the evergrowing ache in your core. in fact, you’d been like this since the moment yuuta spoke a word to you, lightheaded and malleable — what he’s beginning to love most about you.

your digits collected slick at your entrance, the immeasurable amount of essence that you’d pool providing ample leeway for you to sink three fingers inside, pumping at the same rhythm in which you’re sucking yuuta. soft fingertips curling against your gummy walls weren’t enough, though, and when he had caught notice of your weakening resolve, his hips involuntarily bucked into your mouth.

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” he began, with a choked moan. “just- so close, so fucking close. c-can you take me in deeper?”

the hum of assurance that sounded from you sent vibrations coursing through his cock, from tip to base. had you not been preoccupied with chasing your own high, you would’ve missed the pitchy moan he let out just after. with your palm now pressed up against your clit while you worked in tandem to pleasure the nub and your greedy hole, you attempted to swallow another stubborn inch of him.

simultaneous with the bobbing of your head, he matched your pace, abdomen flexing when the white-hot pleasure became too much and he could feel it in his ears. he wanted so badly to throw his head back, completely lose himself in bliss, but he had a job to do. he wouldn’t dare let the sight of your glassy lidded eyes and glossy lips struggling to wrap themselves around the stretch of his dick go unfilmed, unseen.

as his tip continued to prod the back of your throat and your fingers aided you in relieving the discomfort from your cunt, you found yourself just dangling off the dangerous edge of your release, strokes away from making a mess — and yuuta did too.

it wasn’t long until his head started spinning, legs got weaker, and his core coiled tighter; all the signs of a mindblowing orgasm, and blew his mind, you did. “baby- y/n, if you keep doing that- i might cum.” what he was referring to was the way you fondled his balls in the warmth of your soft hands, yet another trick you had learned from porn. “i don’t wanna cum in your mouth but if you—,”

a jumbled slew of curses flowed from his lips as he did the inevitable, shot his load deep down your throat, gently thrusting his cock in shallow strokes to jettison every last remaining drop. the taste on your tongue was nothing like you’d be warned of before. yuuta wasn’t bitter, he went down easy.

hell, you’d use his cum as a condiment for desserts if you could.

in a matter of moments, your own high had washed over you like cold water over a heated body, much needed and refreshing. once he hesitantly pulled out from the heat of your mouth, cock still hard and twitching for more, he gently pushed back strands of loose hair behind your ear.

“can i see?”

you held out your cream-slickened fingers, sopping with your juices as yuuta proceeded to catch how they dripped on camera. he then took your palm, with the cadence of a knight kissing the back of a princess’s hand, and slipped the soiled digits into his mouth. his tongue lavved around your index and middle fingers while he hummed satisfactorily at your taste. “you’re just as sweet as i imagined.” he smiled, finding amusement in your post-orgasmic, dazed state.

“do you do this with a lot of other girls, yuuta?” you queried, taking the time to scan your eyes over his face. it was as if he seemed to get more attractive as your time with him went on. he tilted his head slightly, finding your question endearing. “you’re my first, actually.” yuuta responded softly, as if his normal speaking voice would be too heavy on your delicate ears.

you jumped at the chance to tease him as he did you, placing your thumb back over the slit of his hard-on and lightly rubbing; which resonated within yuuta as a tonal mewl. a little smile pulled at your lips when you got your perfect reaction. “can you be my first?”

“i’d love to be,” he took your request with unadulterated honor as if he’d been tasked by the deities above to serve you. “just- just lay back for me. i promise i’ll take good care of you.”

and that you did; conforming to his call of request with such compliance it made his heart swell. you had positioned your body to rest languidly against the seat of the sofa, shaky legs hesitant to spread fully while your hand roamed up your sternum to find solace in kneading your tits.

he couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked, laid out for him as such. how had he been so lucky to be the only one to have the opportunity to marvel at the scene? with a steady hand, he faintly trails his hand up the expanse of your inner thigh, a silent beckon for you to open your legs wider. involuntarily so, your body had accepted his presence and allowed for the spreading of your thighs.

what you’d come to notice with yuuta was that he was watchful, observant. he seemed to pick up on every detail, even the minuscule bits that were most likely to fly over anyone else’s head, had been taken into account. it’s probably why he’s immensely proficient at what he does. not once had he allowed himself to miss the labored heaving of your chest, or the sheen of sweat thinly coating your body — the twitching of your clit when he stroked featherlight touches at the nub. he couldn’t call himself a true cameraman then.

his fingers had collected remnants of your previous orgasm before they worked in tandem, both middle and ring, to prod at your sensitive hole, slowly sinking themselves in. it was almost embarrassing how quickly your greedy cunt swallowed him in, as if it’d been waiting for his touch for years now. “y-yuuta, ‘m still sensitive.” you crooned in response to his digits exploring your cavern, plush walls gripping him with such tautness that he’d found it difficult to even curl his fingers.

his own mind spun (and cock leaked) at the thought of that same warmth around his length, and when you called his name, all he could think about was how pretty you’d sound moaning it. he wouldn’t mind if you were sonorous, if the neighbors would hear, if inumaki who lived downstairs would come knocking with a mouthful of complaints, if the whole world knew his name; because in that moment, yuuta okkotsu was yours.

yuuta okkotsu was in love.

after some shallow pumping, enough to have your legs attempting to enclose around his arm, yuuta had pulled his digits out and replaced the lost sensation with the fat tip of his cock stroking your slit up and down.

“i’m gonna put it in, okay? if you want me to stop, tell me. if i'm going too fast or slow, let me know.”

he perused your face for a hint of an answer, seemingly nothing going on behind your vacant, large eyes. your initial response was curt, an ode to the simplistic nature of your mind. “mhm.”

how endearing you were to him, just a unadorned reaction weakening his being, causing his heart to figuratively crumble within its confines against his ribcage. he had searched for a heartier answer, something tangible to hold on to, because, lord knows how terrible he’d feel if he took your indication the wrong way. “can you be vocal for me, please?”

you nodded your head. “i’ll let you know, yuuta.”

with a carefulness that only came from the most benign of beings, he had sunken the first inch of himself into your awaiting heat.

he was paused when your hand dashed to his lower abdomen, futilely pressing against the skin.

“wait—” you huffed wantonly. “—‘s too big.”

his eyes wavered with concern, hidden under the veil of pure arousal. in yuuta’s case he had dreamed of a compliment as self fulfilling as yours, for his thoughts of being average were shattered upon first inch. “should i stop?”

you shook your head, reveling in the light of his attentivity towards you and your body. “no,” you moved your hand from his abdomen. “don’t stop.”

one of his arms rested beside your head, helping to prop him up over your body while he dropped his head down to watch the way your bodies connected. gradually, the sight of his length slowly sinking inside, stretching you out further and further until he was in to the hilt flooded his vision. yuuta had caught on to your labored gasps, merely growing harder from your honeyed voice like music to his ears.

he then lifted his head, strands of inky, out-of-place tresses falling over his face and partially covering the depth of lingering eyes, that lingered for a second too long, causing that shuddering sensation you had once felt when you first met him to reappear. he held his camcorder beside his face, an all too cheerful grin masked over his features. “i’m all in!”

creepy.

there was no doubt that you hadn’t felt full. he practically spilled over with how much girth he possessed and throbbed innately within your walls. the swell of your tummy from just how deep he was, was enough to tear away at his composure and drag his length back before driving his hips in at a force unrecognizable to him. the yelp you had let out from his eager thrust dwindled into a blissful moan. “sorry, so sorry.” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the faultless assortment of breathtaking features that was your face, eyebrows creased together, parted lips and eyes squeezed closed as if you’d been focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you.

his next thrust stroked softer than its predecessor, having no remnants of eagerness but instead, the nuance of a man that’d been simply smitten.

the meticulousness of his ministrations coursed through your body wondrously, each push and pull lathered in lust, savored to be remembered for the rest of his time on earth. it was as if he’d known your body for years, knew every dip and fold, every swell and mast, aware of what exactly it took to leave your body hungry for his touches.

you’d grown comfortable in the pace at which he set, your mind hazing over each time the blunt tip grazed along your gspot. he peppered kisses along your jaw and down your sternum, the fanning of his warm breath against your chest doing the minimum in stiffening the peaks of your breasts. shootable footage forgotten, yuuta took your mound into his mouth, teeth gently rolling against your nipple which caused you to tighten around his cock in response, the sweetest mewl he’s ever heard from you tumbling from your throat.

“at least take me on a date first, yuuta..” the wittiness of your voice had earned a stifled smile from him, finding utmost admiration in the suggestion. he’ll be sure to take you up on your offer, just as you had done for him.

when you felt the familiar coil within you starting to build up once more, you dipped your hand down to rub at your clit in tandem with the increasing vigor of his strokes. the sensation was all too foreign to you, too pleasurable that you couldn’t keep your sounds at bay. “‘m so close, g-gonna cum!” you had warned, yuuta pulled away from your tit with a soft pop. he chose to rest his head at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, mindlessly chanting the words like a mantra.

“i love you, i love you,” his pace faltered, growing sloppier by the second. “love you, love you so much.”

intoxicated by your heat, your scent, just you being you, and being so perfect — yuuta was pussydrunk. incredibly so. never in his life had he ever felt as high as you made him. you were an angel, sent to him from heaven, to defile and mark.

quickly, your release surged through you in torrents of ecstasy, nothing that you’ve experienced before, coating yuuta’s cock in the glorious essence of you. “cumming!” you cry, to no avail particularly since yuuta wasn’t wholeheartedly aware of the situation at hand. his mind was clouded with you, just as you were full of him, wincing in the aftershocks of your fervent orgasm and convulsing around his length with need.

it wasn’t long before his own ununified thrusts came to a sudden close, signifying the warm spurts of cum painting your insides, filling you entirely to the brim and leaking down your ass from riding out his high.

“god, i love you.” he whined, pressing faint kisses to your neck, unable to peel himself away from your fervid body. coming to your senses, his words finally resonated for you. “we only just met.”

he pulled himself up, opting to look down at your flushed face with a vague hint of confusion on his face as he tilted his head. “have we?”

“we have.” you nodded.

to yuuta, he’s known you his whole life. you were the light of his existence, the fire in his heart. had he managed to confuse you with someone else? surely, that wasn’t the case.

once he pulled out of you, he made sure to capture the moment that you leaked his seed on film, but in that time, borrowed jealousy had filled his soul. he couldn’t share the tape as he had planned, no one else deserved to see you in the same way he did. no one.

he tucked himself back into his pants, leaving you bare and oozing for just one second to fetch a warm wet rag to clean you up with. when he came back, you noticed just how chipper he’d gotten, if that were even possible. “you were amazing,” he smiled, gently wiping your folds pristine. “i’m so grateful you came to me.” the smile you returned matched his own, “thank you, you were- really good too.”

he perked up, eyes moving from between your thighs to your face. “really?” and when you nodded to him, you could see the apparent relief flow within his being. “you know,” he started. “i’m very interested in you.”

you tilt your head, jutting your lips in a cute pout. “interested, how?”

the camcorder that now resided on his coffee table, unpresumebly documenting the scene on display was picked up by yuuta, and turned off. he grinned softly, eyes shutting from his ear to ear smile.

“may i take you on a date?”

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taegimood · 1 year ago

Text

— bestfriend!ot5’s reaction to you offering to help with their boner ♡

pairing: ot5 x fem!reader (separate) rating: nsfw, mdni wc: almost 3k oops 😭 warnings: some smut (oral obviously, m receiving), suggestiveness, perviness, pet names (babe, sweetheart, pretty girl), tiniest but brief bit of angst in tyun’s, some alcohol in jun’s, beomgyu being an annoying brat lmao

a/n - this took me forever to start (and to finish.. all in one sitting rip my eyeballs) but i loved writing this omg who wants a pt 2 follow-up 🫢

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yeonjun: this is the moment he’s been waiting for, y’all

it’s just like any other tipsy late-night shit-talk sesh on yeonjun’s living room floor, until it’s not. you’ve been lazily sitting against the foot of his couch facing each other while joking about beomgyu’s latest failure to get laid when somehow the conversation turns to your own personal sex lives. it’s not like you’ve never talked about that stuff with jun before; you’re best friends, after all. but something about tonight feels different. maybe it’s because you’ve been drinking, maybe it’s because the dim lighting of his living room is giving it a strangely sensual vibe, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you- facing you with his chin in his hand as his elbow rests up on the couch cushion, eyes more lidded than usual and sculpted collarbone peeking out from the sweater that at some point had slipped down his shoulder- but when the topic turns to your experiences with oral and he’s in the middle of complaining about how his last fling always gave him the worst head, what comes out of your mouth as you suddenly interrupt him is a shock to the both of you.

“i could do better.”

yeonjun’s eyebrows shoot up. the words had died on his lips. your own eyes are wide as you freeze, before fidgeting nervously, attempting damage control. “i mean.. from what i’ve been told. just saying.” you swallow hard as you inwardly kick yourself, avoiding his eyes and his silence as you bring the bottle of soju you’d been sharing to your lips in an attempt to feign casualty.

“is that an offer?”

it’s your turn to be speechless, nearly choking as you set the bottle down a little too hard, turning quickly to stare at him in shock; oh, he’s not joking. he watches you expectantly, a level expression on his face; though if you were to blink, you’d miss the smirk that his lips were threatening to inch up into. when your gaze flickers down to see the tent in his sweatpants that he hasn’t even bothered trying to cover, you swallow hard. the tiny crush you’ve always harbored for your best friend suddenly seems not so unreciprocated after all. you collect yourself. you’ve gotta be cool about this.

“well… do you want it to be?”

your best friend’s hands wrapped in your hair and his shameless moans filling the room as he pumps his cock in and out of your throat isn’t exactly how you imagined the night to go, but here you are! you can already tell from the lewd promises and filthy praises that he’s groaning out as you swallow around him — your legs will definitely be sore in the morning. <3

soobin: soobin.exe has stopped working

he didn’t mean for you to see, he really didn’t. you weren’t supposed to be home for another 15 minutes; what else was he supposed to do when it’s the first time all week that his hermit of a roommate has finally left their shared apartment and he hasn’t been able to comfortably get himself off since last weekend?

your convenience store run ended in disappointment as the tuna gimbap roll you were craving turned up empty on the shelves. with a grumble you had just grabbed the nearest container of ramen and a snack for soobin before trekking back to your apartment sooner than hoped for (by either party..), not in the mood to sit there and eat as you’d originally planned; but unbeknownst to you, soobin hadn’t heard you arrive back home, and also unbeknownst to you, he was stuck in a very… compromising position.

“soob, they didn’t have the- oh, fuck.”

rounding the corner into the living room to see your best friend seated on the couch with his sweatpants shoved down around his hips and his head thrown back as his hand fists up and down his very hard - very big cock - was definitely not on your daily bingo card. (or your lifetime one either, to be quite frank.) at the sound of your voice he’s acting faster than you’ve ever seen him move, a pillow shoved over his lap and his large figure smushed back into the couch cushions so quick that you question whether you even saw his cock at all, or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. you decide that it wasn’t the latter, however, at the sight of his bright red face and quick, heavy breaths- a deer in headlights as his mouth opens and closes for a few moments, trying to find the words to speak.

you’re in the same boat — what are you supposed to say? hey, sorry that i caught you trying to get yourself off in our shared space that i also own which you’re very much aware of? and by the way your cock is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen and i want it in my-

wait, what? you don’t even have time to process the sudden warmth between your thighs as soobin finally finds his words. well, kind of. “i-i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t- i was just trying to- i thought you’d still be a while, i- it’s been so long since i-“ he cut himself off at the last part, an even deeper blush coming over his cheeks at his accidental admission. wonderful, now she’s gonna think i’m some sort of incel. but the last thing that either of you ever expects is happening as you step forward carefully, approaching his shocked form on the couch before stopping to maintain some distance.

“soob.. do you want help?”

let’s just say that his best friend slotted between his thighs as she bobs her head up and down his fat cock with eager moans and a mix of spit and pre-cum lewdly dribbling down her chin wasn’t exactly on soobin’s bingo card, either. but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pay you back for it right after. <3

beomgyu: *laughs in your face* 👁️👄👁️ switch-up

um, did he hear that right?? it was an innocent instance of you utterly roasting each other into the grave with bullying remarks, just another tuesday for the pair of you- you’re just sitting on your bed in your usual criss-cross legged gossip-time position when beomgyu apparently decides that he’s bored laughing at something soobin did and chooses you as the better candidate to laugh at instead. the plushie of yours that he’d had resting in his lap is now a method of defense as you attempt to thwap him over the head with your own plushie, yelling at him to “take it back!” as he cackles mercilessly after claiming “at least soobin can get bitches if he stops being shy enough, you’re just an all-around lost cause.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about!!!” you whine as you finally manage to knock him onto his back, going in for the kill as your leg swings over one of his, your plushie smushing down into his face as his now-muffled giggles still ring out annoying as ever. “i get bitches too!” you defend yourself, although even your own words immediately cause you to cringe; damn, you really do sound like a loser, huh? but your momentary lapse of attention has beomgyu knocking your plushie away, laughing even louder as he responds “that is EXACTLY what someone who can’t get bitches would say.” you groan and smack his chest, rolling your eyes as he cradles himself dramatically. “you’re literally wrong. i’ve dated before! like once. and there was that other guy from the smoothie place last year.. we, like, hung out a few times.” but you’re mumbling now, pathetic to your own ears as beomgyu’s shit-eating grin grows with each word.

“you’re kinda proving my point, here, babe.” you shiver at the pet name, however condescending his tone may be. god, how is he still so attractive even when you want to strangle the fuck out of him? “you’re so cocky,” you complain with another roll of your eyes, an attempt to both distract yourself from beomgyu and distract beomgyu from the humiliating topic. he sits up to lean back on his hands as it’s clear you’re finished with your little murder attempt. “yeah, cuz of my monster cock.. that can get bitches.”

that’s it. the sudden urge to prove yourself to him overtakes you as you snap back, “i bet your ‘monster cock’ has never even seen head as good as what i can give.” another laugh— until he realizes you’re serious. the smile falls right off of his face. you don’t miss the way his fists clench around the blanket he’s leaning back on; or the slight strain in his voice as he answers, voice suddenly low and almost breathless- “yeah?”

you were right; beomgyu’s cock has never gotten head as good as what you’re giving him right now as your throat bottoms out with a filthy gag, no hesitation when you lift off with a pop before sucking on him hard enough to send his head reeling. you know what.. maybe beomgyu wouldn’t mind being proved wrong more often after all. but of course, he has to prove himself to you now, too. <3

taehyun: “if… you want to” he definitely wants to

taehyun was stressed. that was clear to anybody; the recent storm closing the businesses down for the week, including the local gym, and his own job that he of course relied on to pay rent. you had been over at his apartment when the weather took a turn for the worse; so now here you were, snowed in with no where to go, forced to work from taehyun’s computer, eat his food, and wear his clothes. (the latter of which neither of you would admit to being turned on by. …….yet.) taehyun was doing his best to work out from home with what little equipment he had, although he wasn’t able to do much, which frustrated him to no end — not as much because he was a gym rat, but more because it was his primary stress reliever. so today it doesn’t help, of course, that his pretty best friend is currently sat at his desk in one of his baggy sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants that she had to roll 6 times to fit her little legs.

he didn’t mean to snap at you. when you accidentally knocked his extra monitor off the desk and onto the floor, cracking the screen, it was just because you turned around too fast— you were excited to see him :(— but it’s the last straw of the day for taehyun. he can’t work out properly, his job isn’t paying him during the off-time, he’s had a constant boner from you hanging around in his clothes all week, and now- now he’ll need to go get his stupid monitor fixed once the weather clears up. “shit, tae, i’m so sorry-“

“god, why are you so fucking clumsy, y/n?”

the silence causes instant realization as his eyes snap up to meet your wide, now-watery ones. “i’m.. i’m sorry..” you whisper, and immediately he wants to punch himself. “fuck,” he groans as he shakes his head, coming to kneel down in front of the chair you were still sitting in. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at you like that. you’re not clumsy. i know it was an accident, please don’t cry.. i’ll pay for the monitor. it wasn’t your fault.” he’s murmuring while he soothes his hand up and down your arm. you’re shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes. “no, no, it’s okay; i know you didn’t mean to snap. i’m still sorry though. let me help pay for it…. i know you’ve been stressed, tyunnie.” you say the last part quieter, gentler as you meet his eyes. he hates that his cock twitches in his pants at something so innocent; but what you say next makes him feel much better about his own perverted thoughts.

you’re nervous about your next words. you really hope you’ve been reading the room right this last week. “let me help you..?”

his eyes widen, before he quickly recovers in an attempt to keep a level expression. “help.. me?” do you mean what he thinks you mean??? “the weather still sucks. there’s not much you can do, sweetheart.” he chuckles, testing the waters with a pet name as he studies your face carefully for a reaction. his eyes flicker down and quickly back up when your thighs squeeze together marginally in response. a-ha. “no, tyun… let me help you here.” you whisper with a soft, testing touch to the band of his sweatpants. oh, so you definitely mean what he thinks you mean.

who really needs the gym or your own closet after all, when you look so pretty on your knees for him with his cock down your throat as he calls you his pretty girl and promises to fuck you so good later just like you deserve? not the two of you, apparently. <3

huening kai: *spits out his drink* coughing fit

kai wasn’t kidding when he told you that he might be too busy to hang out if you came over, although this wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. when you headed over to his apartment you figured he was caught up studying for some big exam or something of the like; what you didn’t think you’d find was him yelling into his headset at beomgyu as his fingers flew over the buttons of his controller, leaning forward in his seat with crazy eyes and 3 open cans of energy drinks next to the screen. you sigh. “kai, really? this is what you meant by ‘too busy’..?” he jumps slightly at the sudden sound of your voice in his room, but doesn’t turn around. “y/n! yeah, sorry- i’m just in the middle of- FUCKING MOVE, BEOMGYU! of a tournament right now, been trying to rank up for hours- BEOMGYU!!!”

you wince at the intermittent screaming, plopping down on his bed to watch as you hear gyu’s protests of self-defense piercing through your best friend’s headset. “i think you’ll need a hearing aid after this..” you mumble, receiving no response as expected. however, you get bored after scrolling through your phone for a while, sulking shamelessly at the lack of attention you were receiving — although you were warned that if you came over he might not have any to give. you sigh, but you understand; these tournaments are important to hyuka, even if you couldn’t care less about them yourself. don’t get me wrong, you love gaming too, especially with your friends— especially with kai — but you weren’t exactly as obsessed as they were when it came to being the biggest legend in this group of - you squint - 100 players that this world has ever seen.

selfishly, you had almost even hoped for more from this evening… you’ve been trying to drop hints lately at your feelings for kai, although your level of success was yet to be determined. this would be the first instance all week that you’d have some alone time together; despite his claim to busyness, you still figured you’d try your luck by coming over. you eye the 3 energy drinks and his bouncing legs with a chuckle. what are my options here? hmm.. you’d worn some particularly short shorts tonight, knowing he’d definitely notice the plushness of your thighs.. experimentally, you stand up and approach his desk, standing next to it so he’d be able to see you if he shifted his eyes to the right. “hyuka, want me to get you some water? i don’t think you need any more of these.” you fiddle with one of the cans on his desk. he hums distractedly in response; you can tell he hadn’t heard what you said. “hyuka..” this time you reach out to card your fingers through his hair, effectively causing his fixed stare to snap briefly over to you in surprise; ‘briefly’ turning into a momentary distraction as his gaze catches onto your shorts, flitting back and forth between the screen and your soft thighs. “h-huh?”

“some water?” you repeat innocently. “o-oh, uh, yeah..”

when you come back, to say you’re shocked is an understatement as the bulge in his shorts has seemingly popped up out of no where, and the bright pink blush on his cheeks tells you he knows it, too. you don’t realize you’re standing there staring at it with the glass of water still in your hand until kai quickly mutes his mic, eyes still glued to the screen as he groans “i’m so sorry y/n, please don’t think i’m gross, i- i had no time to grab a pillow, we’re in the middle of a battle and my score is-“ wordlessly, you’re sinking to your knees and situating yourself beneath the desk. his bouncing legs freeze. “what- fuck, w-what are you-“

“can i help you? you can keep playing your game,” you ask sweetly. the sight of your innocent eyes blinking up at him nearly has him cumming in his shorts then and there as he breathes out, “fuck- are you sure?”

you definitely show him how sure you are as you worship his cock with your throat, all sloppy and wet, making sure his mic stays muted so beomgyu can’t hear the way you’re making him whine and moan as he bucks his hips up into your mouth the best he can. now just wait until his tournament is over and he has you all to himself. <3

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ggukgoldensoul · 2 months ago

Text

are you sure?

pairing; idol!jk x reader

timeline; that ep where jm, jk and v are in jeju island in are you sure.

summary; taking advantage that jk is downstairs, she decides to test something.

a/n; hi hi hiiiiiiii, this is my first time writing jk fics, im super excited about this, bts means a lot to me and for me, writing is a form of escapism and mixing both means everything to me. i dont remember clearly what happens in this ep, so im going to write whatever i want xd, love u all tons!!!!!

warnings; pregnancy, insecurity, a little bit of angst, happy ending because i love happy endings, fluff, tae being the good friend he is, jk dilf era begins xd, dunno more.

word count; 1150

the sun rays were making their way through the curtains when jimin decided to wake jungkook from his sleep, behind her, her boyfriend groaned when jimin played a video to wake him.

“yah! jungkook, wake up you silly bastard” but jungkook hid in her neck trying to forget that jimin was there and that he was trying to move him away from his girl. her eyes flickered but she kept still until she noticed jungkook placed a kiss in her hair, whispering a little i love you. once she heard them go down to the kitchen, she sat up on the bed, her mind going round and round in circles about something she knew she needed to tell jungkook but couldn't bring herself to. not until she knew for certain it was real.

rummaging in the baggage, she took the little box that could change their future forever. not that they hadn't talked about it, but the sting of the doubt and fear was still there and it hurt to think about it. the bathroom door clicked behind her and closed the latch, her hands were trembling but she managed to take the stick, and now she needed to wait.

10 minutes later, with trembling hands, she turned around the stick… two lines… two.lines. she was pregnant. she was going to have a child. she didn't know she was crying until she felt them run down to the t shirt she was wearing. still in a trance, she unlocked the door to the bedroom… and ran into tae. both of them went still, and she wasn't fast enough to hide the pregnancy test, he had already seen it. tae opened his mouth but she took him by the arm and dragged him into the bathroom and locked it.

she would have laughed at his face if she wasn’t so damn nervous with all the situation. tae looked between her and the stick.

“are you going to say something about it?” her voice shivered, she was so nervous, she needed to go out, breath some air and face the consequences. she yelped when tae crushed her into a hug.

“omg, you are pregnant. you. are. pregnant.” she let out a small laugh and felt like crying again, but happy tears. “yeah, it seems so”

tae broke the hug but his hands were on her shoulders to comfort her. “have you told him?” she shook her head. “why not?”

“because…” she swallowed the lump that had formed on her throat. “im scared, im super scared, what if this ruins everything? what if he doesn’t want this? what if he leaves me all alone with this child? what-”

“hey, hey, hey, stop, stop right there” tae hugged her tightly again “believe me when i tell you that nothing of what you are thinking is going to happen. you know? i’ve never seen anybody love someone the way jungkook loves you, he adores you, if he could he would bring you down the moon, the stars and the galaxy just to see you smile and the fact that you are going to have his child… he is going to love you more if that is possible.” they laughed at that and she cleaned her tears.

“thank you so much taetae”

“no need to thank me” he sighed “omg we need to tell the boys, and expect a phone call of jin screaming and telling you he is going to buy everything in pink”

_____________________________________________

nightfall came and she hadn’t told jungkook yet.

she wanted to, she really wanted to tell him but it seemed that the universe had other plans.

she watched them play in the pool and smiled at the thought of a little jungkook playing with them. he or she was going to be the happiest and most loved child in the world.

a moment later, she decided to go upstairs and watch some tv, replaying some scenarios of what could happen when she told him that they were going to have a child.

“baabee” jungkook said with a singsong voice. “baabee” she replayed with the same voice and heard him laugh. his laugh was the most beautiful sound in the world. she watched him run up the stairs and throw himself onto the bed. “jungkook! you could have crashed me!”

he laid down on top of her, his head in her stomach. “but i didn’t”

“you could have”

he bit down her skin softly and jungkook heard her laugh and melted at the sound. they stayed like that for a moment, the tv casting a soft glow in the room, her hand traced patterns in his back.

“jungkook-ah”

he hummed.

“i need to tell you something”

he sighed softly. “go on sweetheart”

she closed her eyes, and took a breath, two, three…

“im pregnant”

jungkook went still.

slowly he lifted his head, his eyes round like balls and his mouth a perfect “o”. her eyes were closed and she was holding her breath, waiting for him to explode, to yell at her, to break up with her, to tell her that he wasn’t going to take care of it…

“are you sure? omg, are you sure? im going to be a dad?”

she opened her eyes to a tearful jungkook.

she nodded, that was the only thing she could do right now, she couldn’t talk. jungkook laughed and kissed her belly. “hello there, its me, your dad.”

“jungkook, they can't hear you” she said through tears.

“don't listen to your mama. i want you to know that i'm going to take care of you, that i'm going to love you till my last day here.” jungkook looked up and together they laughed and cried. he went up and started to kiss her face, making her giggle.

“we need to tell the boys, and we need to call our family too, wait here.”

jungkook stood up and ran down shouting.

“hyung! hyung! im going to be a dad!”

and while the three of them laughed and screamed, she laid there, thinking of how grateful she was to have him and the guys by her side.

shout out to @redcherrykook cause she is so nice and she is an inspiration for me to write about him <3

#fanfic #bts fanfic #bts #bts army #jungkook #jung kook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fic #jk fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fluff

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greengoblinswifey · 6 months ago

Text

Symbol of Love— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— based off sofia and rafe’s cute moment in s4 ep 9 so slight spoilers. rafe is on mission to catch groff and he gives you something to treasure before he leaves.

warnings— spoilers, fluff, mentions of death.

a/n— saw the scene and immediately decided to write this, my heart is melting omg ugh that should be me and him. these new batch of episodes have been such a roller coaster, can’t wait to finish and see how everything plays out <3

Rafe’s hands were tense as walked around the sand, jaw tight as he tried to process what he’d just learned. Chandler Groff had stolen his money, and he boated off the island. You leaned against the tree, eyes wide as you tried to absorb the news. Hollis’ death had hit you harder than you let on, and whispers were circulating that JJ Maybank might have been involved. Nothing felt certain anymore, but what you did know was that Rafe had always been the one constant—until now.

“Okay, but listen,” Rafe said, his voice sharp and urgent. “Unless I catch up with Groff now, that money is long gone.”

“Where is he, Rafe?” you asked, your heart pounding. You didn’t want him to go, especially not alone, but you knew you couldn’t stop him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, his gaze fixed somewhere past you. “I’ll track him down. I’ll get it all back.” There was a steely resolve in his voice, a familiar determination that reminded you of just how far he would go to keep what was his.

But before he could take off, he turned to you, his eyes softening just and took a deep breath. “I want to say something first.”

You opened your mouth, the confession about Hollis and everything that happened burning on your tongue. “Rafe, I- I need to tell you something too.”

Before you could finish, he startled you by dropping to one knee, pulling out a beautiful ring from his pocket. Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly you felt like the world was spinning.

He held it up to you, his gaze never leaving yours. “It was my mom’s,” he said softly, his voice breaking just slightly. “Been in my family forever. I know it’s some kook bullshit, but I just- I wanted you to have it before I left. So you’d know this, us- we’re real.”

“Rafe, wait,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I- I did something. It’s about Hollis. There’s more I didn’t tell you—”

He cut you off, shaking his head and cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “Don’t. There’s things about me you don’t know. And trust me, they’re way worse than anything you could say. I don’t care what you did, and I don’t care to know.” His voice softened, but his eyes stayed intense. “I want you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You could barely breathe, tears leaving your eyes and he slipped the ring on your finger, his eyes pleading.

You were crying now, overwhelmed by the depth of his acceptance. You could feel his hands tremble as he slid the ring onto your finger. “Say yes,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “There’s no more pogue bullshit, okay? No more of that. I want you to quit that job and move in with me.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a promise, and you nodded, barely able to find your voice. “Yes, Rafe.”

He smiled, relief flooding his face as he pulled you into a kiss, his hands cradling your face as if you were something fragile he had to hold onto. You kissed him back, fingers curling into his jacket, your tears mixing with his warmth.

When you pulled away, he pressed a key into your palm, closing your fingers over it. “It’s to the house. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Stay there for me, okay? At my—no, our place.”

He brushed a kiss across your forehead, and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” And with one last look, he turned, walking toward his boat as you watched him go.

The salty breeze whipped around you, and you looked down at the ring, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. It was beautiful and strange, the symbol of a life you were about to share with him, a life you’d always dreamed of. You traced the ring with your thumb, marveling at its age, its history, a part of him that would stay with you even as he left.

Tears blurred your vision as he boarded the boat, but you stood there, rooted, until he was nothing but a speck on the horizon, clutching the key and the promise he’d left behind.

As you watched Rafe disappear over the horizon, a wave of fear washed over you, heavier than the ocean air around you. You knew how dangerous Groff could be, how far he was willing to go to keep what he’d stolen. And now, Rafe was chasing him down. Your heart twisted, the thought of something happening to him tugging at every corner of your mind. But then you shook yourself, forcing the doubt back. Rafe was tough, stronger than anyone you knew. He could handle himself. He’d be okay.

He’d come back.

You took a deep breath, letting the thought settle over you like a warm blanket. He’d come back, and when he did, you’d spend the rest of your lives together. There would be reward, there would be sunshine after the storm. Your love, this wild, all-consuming love, could survive anything. It had to. Everything was going to be okay.

You glanced down at the ring he’d placed on your finger, feeling its weight, its history pressing against your skin like a quiet promise. Your fingers tightened around the key in your other hand, holding onto it as if it could anchor you to this moment, to him. This key was a piece of him, a piece of your future together, the home you’d share, the life you’d build once he returned.

With one last look out at the horizon, you whispered a silent promise of your own. Then you turned back holding the ring and the key close to your heart, holding onto the hope that soon, he’d be back in your arms.

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jensthwa · 4 months ago

Text

a very show & tell christmas (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

It's been a few months since you and Mingi got together. It's your first Christmas as a couple but not your first one together. As he watches you re-organize the tree in his living room, he can't help but reminisce on the key moments that made him realize you're his person.

PAIRING: mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: stablished relationship, holidays special!

WORD COUNT: 7k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI), mingi's pov, a loooot of fluff and love talk, pet names (love, my love, babe), mistletoe kisses, heart felt gifts, messy kisses, mingi and reader briefly discuss something that i've come to learn is called sweater fetish but i don't know if the scene counts as that but just letting you know, oral sex (f receiving), reader asks mingi to 'use' her, hard but romantic sex, unprotected sex (booo, wrap it up please), marriage discussion at the end omg?

NOTES: happy holidays everyone! I've been wanting to write mingi's perspective of everything that went down in s&t for a while so I took the chance to write it for the holidays because what better time to reminisce about everything you've ever lived than december am I right? [nervous chuckle]. I hope you're having a wonderful month and i hope next year treats you even better! THIS IS PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH SERIES BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 25th 2024.

Mingi remembers the first time he saw you like it was yesterday. It's an image so vivid, so impactful in his life that there's no way he could ever, ever forget.

He was playing soccer on the street, with two friends who moved away that same year and he doesn't really remember them all that well now. He kicked the ball so hard it landed in your yard as you were doing something else. Playing with dirt? He doesn't really remember, you might've been but it didn't matter because it was also the first time he realized he could fall in love.

Granted, he didn't fall in love immediately. He was, after all, just a fourteen year old boy and he didn't understand those feelings just yet. It was that transitional period of a kid’s life where the desire to connect with someone else was strong but definitely not a priority.

Besides, he didn't realize, until many years had gone by, that the first time that he saw you and he felt time stop, he also saw a life with you: the five seconds it took for the ball to roll over to your feet after almost punching you in the face and he sort of assumed you were going to be in his life forever.

And you are going to be in his life forever. In one way or another, but he promised you that forever a while ago, in his head, in his dreams and in the way he cares about you, for you. In the way his heart hurts when you're not around, when you two fight. In the way his heart sings when he kisses you, the way it dances and beats against his chest when you smile at him, because of him, around him.

And when he hears you laugh? Pfft. He melts at the sound.

He's melting even now, after being officially together a little over a year, as you laugh with your mom and his mom while decorating the Christmas tree at his house.

Well, not decorating it exactly. You three went shopping earlier today and somehow your mom convinced his mom that the old ornaments did not go with the living room aesthetic anymore and she bought new ones for them.

The only ones that are old now, that the redecorating party is finishing with the tree, are the ones you and him have shared over the years.

The one you got at fifteen, that resembles a snow globe with two snowmans inside of it, holding hands and with your names engraved in wood underneath it. The one he got at seventeen that's a little simpler but you say it's your favorite: two gingerbread cookies holding a heart sign with your initials in it, one of the cookies kissing the other’s cheek.

You two have been alternating years of getting each other ornaments and deciding which house they're staying at. This year, however, you went for a different approach to the tradition. Each of you painted an ornament, a traditional one, with something festive that alludes to one another.

He, seeing that you've been talking snoopy for half a year, tried his best to paint the character on top of his dog house, decorated by Christmas lights and with a red ribbon to tie it to the tree that illuminates your living room up the street.

Now, he watches carefully as you hang near the other ornaments, the one you hand painted to look like a chicken. Initially, you tried to convince him it was a penguin but it can't possibly be. It's more yellow than black or white and even if you tried to tell him it's a specific type of penguin you saw in happy feet there's nothing that indicates that it's not a chicken.

“Oh, well, it fits him.” His mother says at your explanation, hugging your mother tightly as she fondly watches you hang the ornament up. You turn around when you finish, tongue out at him childishly.

He pretends to be annoyed, rolling his eyes and getting up to playfully tug at the tongue you're sticking out to him still “Mom, you're supposed to be on my side.”

“I am!” She defends herself, smiling like she's totally not on his side. “It does look a little bit like you, dear. Even your little mole here.”

You take the opportunity to press on your tippy toes and kiss the mole his mom is pointing out, only to get more aws from them.

“I win.” You whisper to him, proud of yourself and he can't help but smile at you as you pull away.

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he was in love with you. It was the first time he called you by his favorite endearment: love.

He remembers the ice cream shop you both were at, he remembers the conversation being more of a confession that you had a crush on a friend of his, he remembers the guy serving the ice cream complaining about the fridge hardly working and he remembers the blush on your cheeks as you admitted to want to be called love because…

“That's what good boyfriend's do,” you said, ice cream on your fingers that you quickly wipe away with an already sticky napkin, “So we're going to get together and I'm going to be called love from that moment on.”

He knew you were talking about his friend but his heart skipped a beat anyway. He had to focus on what you were telling him, not on the pretty smile you gave him or the relief he felt when he realized the one thing that would lead you straight (or not so straight) to disappointment.

His friend was a very proud but not that out gay man.

But Mingi decided to not mess with it, he always let you fight your battles alone if those battles ended up with you learning a lesson and without a scratch, anyway.

“Good luck with that, love.”

“Ugh, no, you don't get to call me that!”

The nickname stuck either way. Even if, at the time, he pushed those feelings down deep inside of him.

Because you were his love, but you were also his best friend ever and he was just a dude. A boy, even.

He didn't know better and so, eventually, you got a boyfriend. Great dude, worshipped you like you deserved and all.

Mingi remembers the way he felt when you told him you loved Han. He hated the guy, hated the way he made you smile, hated the fact that he trusted him of all people because, well, there was and there will never be someone who loves you more than Mingi.

Han thought he was the one, you didn't. But even after breaking up with Han, Mingi stood still. He understood his feelings, his protectiveness over you, as something platonic. But he didn't really have time to think about it with your head on his chest, on his bed, over the sheets and with the door wide open because it was a school night after all.

School night meant no sleepovers, but his mom didn't ask you to leave when she saw you with tears in your eyes at their front door. Mingi didn't ask you to leave as you soaked his sweatshirt with said tears, either.

“I don't know why I did it, Mingi. I don't… He did nothing wrong.”

“You said you felt he was not the one.”

Your regretful eyes looked up at him “But what if he was?”

“He's not,” he whispered back to you and, at the time, he didn't know why. He had no reason to tell you Han wasn't the one for you, but his subconscious knew things he didn't accept back then. “You wouldn't be doubting it at all if he was, love.”

You ended up sleeping over that night, door wide open still, your mom texting him when she couldn't reach you on the phone.

He helped you through that breakup, just like you helped him with his first breakup as well.

He helped you mend your own wounds, he saw you grow stronger after the pain went away, he felt proud of you when you started showing up to your first uni parties without him having to convince you to go.

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he wanted to kiss you. You two were laying under the stars, a little hazy and on a rooftop you definitely shouldn't be up in.

That probably wasn't the actual first time he wanted to kiss you, just the first time he admitted it to himself. Your friends were on the rooftop as well, dancing around, yelling, being silly, just as drunk as you two were or worse but, for a moment, it was quiet. Now that he thinks back to it, he probably imagined it.

The noise quieting down, that is.

Mingi remembers that he had turned to you to ask what you thought was going on but your eyes were closed. He remembers the breath he took in as he traced the side of your face with his eyes, carefully, like the staring alone would get you out of whatever peace you were enjoying at the moment.

Have your lips always been so perfect and inviting? He answered himself immediately: Yes, of course they are perfect, she's perfect.

He doesn't really know how he didn't realize it right then and there. When his heart soared at the thought of it, of disturbing your peace only to kiss you.

And then the noise came back, laughing and screeching and something alarming came out of Jongho’s mouth.

“Shit, shit. Security!”

You opened our eyes and found him already staring at you. He should've felt embarrassed to be caught, but you smiled at him before rushing to your feet, offering your hand and shaking it for him to take it.

“Can you get up or should I stay and be escorted out with you?”

No one got caught that night except, maybe, his heart.

Because he realized he loved you around a week after that, as he saw you do the most mundane task ever: washing your teeth in front of your bathroom sink, still trying to rant about something that pissed you off in one of your classes. He remembers pressing his shoulder against the doorframe and looking at your and your frown through the mirror. He also remembers the frantic beat of his heart as he realized he wanted to do just this with you every day of his life.

Going to bed together, waking up next to you and listening to you rant about things you're going to forget the next day. He never wanted that with anyone else, only you.

You, you, you. He got so lovesick the next year after that he tried desperately to cover it up. With different activities, with people kissing his neck at parties after dancing for a while, with anything and everything that could distract him from the fact that he was utterly and irrevocably in love with you.

Not because he didn't want to explore but because every single time he tried to say something, the words would die down under the weight of years of friendship and loyal companionship.

He couldn't lose you, he didn't even know how to make sure you liked him back!

And so the yearning got unbearable enough for everyone in your friend group to notice it, except for, well, you.

“At some point you have to tell her about it, right?”

No one in the group presses on things. Woo and Gyuri (Woo’s ex girlfriend who, somehow, is still his friend and everyone's friend as well) maybe, but when it comes to matters of the heart, they let everyone be. So it surprised him when Seonghwa, of all people, spoke on it.

“You can't keep looking at her like that from a distance and waiting for it to pass, Mingi. It's not going to pass.”

He remembers sighing and then giving you one more glance before turning to his friend.

“She probably doesn't feel the same.”

“Who cares? You're never going to find out keeping it to yourself.” Seonghwa gave him a tiny smile before bumping his shoulder against his, both teasingly and reassuring. “Besides, she loves you too much to allow some romantic feelings to get in the way. Just… Think about it, yeah? Not forcing you here,” he shrugged, “but we all do, kind of, maybe, want you two to kiss.”

Snorting a laugh, Mingi remembers shaking his head no and then thinking about it for, at least, three months after that before actually making a move.

He remembers feeling humiliated by one of his attempts to put his feelings for you to rest, he remembers confiding in you and your friends, he remembers when you agreed to tell him how to make it right the next time he slept with anyone else. He doesn't really remember asking you to show him.

His mind disconnected after he saw the blush painting your cheeks beautifully, his heart took over him when he kneeled in front of you to kiss you that first time, when he allowed himself to give in and touch you like he had wanted to for so long.

And then the days and the months blended so gracefully after that summer that he doesn't really recall when the weather started getting cold, just that the color of the snow contrasts against your winter coat when you both go outside after having Christmas dinner at his house, with both your parents and his present.

They were friends before, but now? They see each other more than you two.

Well, that's a lie, but almost. And, like all best friends do when spending the holidays together, they get lost in good conversation and company, in a bubble made out of wine and laughter, cozy enough that it allows you and Mingi to slip out of his house hand in hand easily.

You have a little smile as you look around the street like you don't know the houses you pass on the way to yours. He wants to indulge you, but the words slip out his mouth without even thinking about it.

“Am I walking you home because you wanted to change into something more comfortable or because you want to give me an additional Christmas gift, love?”

“Stop ruining it! You know I'm not good at hiding things,” you click your tongue, pretending to be disappointed and kick the snow with your boot when you stop and pull him close, “We haven't got alone time in forever.”

“Two days,” he says with a nod, arms going around you and head going down to kiss your lips tenderly for a quick second, “Three, if we count today.”

You pout “That's like… A lifetime.”

“I know,” he gives in, chuckling against your lips, “I'm going through withdrawal symptoms and all.”

He watches as you close your eyes and lean in. He gets ready for it, inhaling cold air that hits his lungs as a reminder where you two are, what he's allowed to enjoy in public, and closes his eyes as he waits for your kiss that never comes.

Instead, your nose nuzzles his softly, barely nudging the skin and you take a step back, taking his gloved hand and intertwining it with yours “I also may or may not have a gift for you.”

Smiling in victory, Mingi fakes an annoyed gasp “I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you're so smart,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and entering your front yard without letting go of him. “Hurry, I'm freezing!”

“This was your idea, love.” He deadpans but hurries anyways and afterwards, as the warmth of the foyer allows him to shrug off his coat and leave it in its designated spot by the door, he laughs at your clear enthusiasm.

You're already shoeless, coatless, gloveless and scarfless and waiting at the third step of the stairs, impatiently blinking at him as a signal to hurry up, again. And when goes upstairs with you, you make him promise to keep his eyes closed as he walks towards your room.

“You're too tall, I can't cover them with my hands so promise, Song Mingi.”

“My eyes are literally closed!”

He hears a door open. It has that creaking sound the door to your room has and when the smell of your perfume hits him as you press your hands to his chest to stop him, he doesn't have to open his eyes to know where he is. He knows his way around these halls anyway.

You turn him, so that his back is probably facing your room, and then instruct:

“Look up and open your eyes.”

Mistletoe. That's what he sees when he opens his eyes: mistletoe that is badly tape to your door frame, just above him. It makes him smile and then the best friend in him takes over when he looks down at you and your blushed cheeks.

“Love… That's so chees—”

“Just kiss me, you idiot.”

And he does. He lifts you up from the floor and you bury your fingers in his hair before securing your legs around his waist and he walks the room he knows like the back of his hand until he reaches the bed. He doesn't sit down or puts you down yet, lazily opening your mouth with his tongue when you sigh against him.

“Wait— Mm,” you speak against his mouth, words silenced by his eager tongue a second later. He has to physically throw his head back to stop himself from kissing you further, but when his eyes return to his face, his will almost falters. “That was not the gift.”

“Okay.” He breathes out, smiling.

“Sit on the floor.”

He does and the carpet is soft under his fidgeting hands as he watches you move around the room. You go into your closet (literally, you disappear behind the closed doors) and when you come back with a large box he blinks a few times in astonishment.

Huge box, really. It almost doesn't fit the space between you when you sit down in front of him and glance at him excitedly, a shy color to your voice when you speak again “Open it!”

There's no way he can help the smile that curves his lips when he opens the box and finds an assortment of handmade things. Yes, the ornament that you made may have looked like something else entirely, but he starts to believe you made it on purpose when he pulls out the first gift: a bouquet made out of candy, his favorite sweets.

“This is beautiful, love…”

He lets out a chuckle when you steal one immediately and he promises to dig into it once he goes through all the gifts.

There's a box with a card underneath that he goes to pick up but you stop him with a trembling hand “Save that one for last.” And he notices you're a little bit nervous, so he does, his own heart skipping at what might've inside the box, a similar yet smaller one weighing on the pocket of the coat he left downstairs.

The other things left on the box are a few bills in the shape of hearts and a wooden sphere that he finds out, seconds later, it's a picture museum.

“I couldn't fit every important picture we took together in a regular shaped box so I had to get this one.” You explain as he looks at the inside of the sphere. It looks like a miniature museum and Mingi feels like crying a little, so he takes your hand in his and gives it a kiss to ground himself “They're in chronological order, too, I had to consult the ancient texts to get them all right!”

He laughs, confused “The ancient texts?”

“Yes, my Instagram story archive.” You return, nodding and he gives your hand another kiss before letting it go to set down the museum next to the bills and the bouquet.

You let out a shaky breath when he returns his attention to the box and picks it up. You pick up the card.

“Before you open it, let me read this to you.”

“Of course,” he returns softly and takes the trembling hand you're extending in his direction.

“First of all, look at how cute this is,” you turn the card and inside of it, it's decorated with kisses. Your kisses. Mingi would recognize them anywhere and he tries to take the card from you but you bat his hand away with it. “Later, let me read this to you. Um…

“Dear Mingi,” he giggles at the formality of your tone and then forces himself to stop at the look you give him. “Dear Mingi,” you start again, “I don't have a way with words and I've re-written this letter a thousand times but I think I have come to terms with the fact that there are no words invented, no language discovered, that can accurately immortalize my feelings for you. The love I hold for you transcends everything and everyone, every concept ever created and every new idea future generations come up with. And, as I try to come up with a joke that can give this overdone confession any lightness, I have also come to terms with the fact that you're it for me. I already knew this, of course,” you laugh and he has to laugh a little, heartbeat on his throat and eyes full of tears and all, “I already knew how much I loved you. Platonically, romantically, it all has just blended into one because it doesn't really matter how I loved you, it just matters that I have the opportunity to do so, my love. I love you.”

When your eyes catch his, the tears are already wetting his cheeks.

“And now what didn't fit in the letter, because I chose this tiny ass card,” you laugh again, eyes already wet even though he can see you're telling yourself not to cry. “Our first Christmas together was the time I realized I wanted you in my life forever. It just felt right, like we belonged somehow and we do, Mingi. So I— Open the box.” You quickly say and when he does, the whole thing falls apart.

Kind of.

When he pulls the rope tied in a bow at the top and the sides fall he makes a noise of surprise that makes you laugh.

The sides have more pictures of you two and in the middle of the box there's another tiny box that he opens to find a necklace.

With a ring that could fit him as its charm and a silver chain that's not too delicate but not too rough, just like the one he uses on a daily basis.

The ring has your initials engraved on the inside and his initials engraved on the outside. He lets out a sob that prompts your tears to flow freely down your face and he catches you wiping them.

“I didn't want to give you this with the rest of your gifts this morning because, well, I'm shy and—”

“You are not shy.” He speaks over you, wiping his tears.

“And I didn't want our parents to scream marriage at us. I don't want to scream marriage at you either, my love,” you say before he gets any ideas. And it did cross his mind a second ago, but he's far from terrified of it. “But I wanted you to have something to remember me by, with our initials in it, as a token of how much I love you, Mingi.”

He doesn't even know what to say.

“A lot. I love you a lot, if you couldn't tell.” You add and he laughs and manages to scoot around the box of gifts to wrap his arms around your frame. You laugh into the skin of his neck, hugging him back.

“I love you too,” he whispers, his lips close to your ear and his heart beating fast still. When he pulls back, you try to give him a kiss and he stops you, which prompts a confused look on your side. “You know that they say that overtime couples start to think alike?”

“Look alike,” you correct with a tilt of your head and he gives you a look, so you backtrack, smiling. “No, yeah, couples start to think alike.” You nod and then let out a noise in protest of him getting up.

He points his finger at you “Wait here.”

And then he bolts downstairs, to his coat.

It really does say something about you two, about the way your minds sync up at most needed time. Because as he enters your room, box in hand and knees hitting the carpet in front of you, he can tell you got his point immediately.

“I'm not screaming marriage at you yet, love and I also didn't get you a letter or a chain to go with it, but—” He hands you the box and lets you open it, head immediately trying to paint into his memory the way you gasp at the ring, the way you take it delicately into your hands and examine it with care. “But I bought this months ago, in that antique shop you like so much because it reminded me of you and how could it not? Do you see how beautiful it is?”

It sparkles under your bedroom light, but he can see it from a distance: all the delicate details that make it look like there's two hands holding the pearl in the middle. In a way, it looks like two hands holding a heart.

Just like you hold his heart.

“As a token of your much I love you, Y/N.”

You pout as he takes the ring and puts it on your finger.

“You can't just steal my speech, Song Min—”

He kisses you again. He can't not kiss you, he can't help but get you into your arms and thank you for choosing the ground to present your gift because he's anything but careful as he stands up, drags you with him, and sits on the bed with you on top of him.

“Shit, hold on—”

“Hm?” There's concern in the way your eyebrows crease and Mingi gets briefly distracted by how kissed out and breathless you look for a second before reaching for the floor.

“My necklace,” he explains, reaching for the box and successfully getting it in his hand without having to take you off his lap. “Put it on for me, love?”

“So you liked it?” You ask nonchalantly as you take the necklace, legs opening a bit more so that you're sitting further into his lap.

“You literally made me cry, Y/N. Tears,” he says, making a face that you catch before closing the clasp behind his neck.

“Of joy?” You return in a whisper, eyes so sweet and smile so shy it makes him want to cry all over again.

“I love you.” He says instead of answering the question, lips touching yours again, softly, wanting, forgetting you don't have a lot of time before your parents wonder where you went.

There's no way careful thoughts can get through the fog your sighs against him create, in the way your teeth sink into the plush of his bottom lip and pull until he's moaning, the sting of pain passing by as your tongue caresses his.

You've been getting a little bold lately, the nature of your encounters is always passionate but, somewhat, normal. Mingi loves every second you decide to give yourself to him but he also fucking loves when you do shit you like.

Like taking control of the kiss, pulling his hair so his head can fall back and you can slowly make it messier, sloppier, even after the sweet moment you two just shared.

Hands start to roam freely and, by the time you pull on his hair to detach your mouth from his fully, he's already breathless and hard against the fabric of his pants, mouth wet with shared spit.

He's sure his pupils are blown, he's sure he's red on the face and fucked out already. He knows his expression mirrors yours as you take him, and the necklace, in, eyes scanning his frame before you roll your hips against him.

He moans pathetically.

You smile at the sound.

“Like anything you see?” He tries to tease you to no avail.

“You look so hot like this…” The hand tangled in his hair moves and he closes his eyes to welcome the feeling of your nails softly digging into his skin as they make their way into his neck, over the necklace and the ring resting against his collarbone.

“With the necklace on?”

“And the sweater.”

He glances at his beige sweater with an arched brown and then he looks at your sweater, a warmer tone of beige than his, the neck a little high but not high enough to be considered a turtle neck, with the same expression.

He puts the pieces together and then scoffs out an impressed laugh.

“Where did you learn this kink, love?”

“It's not a kink,” you defend yourself immediately, laughing when he looks at you like he doesn't believe it and then he leans in again, peppering your jaw with slow, open mouth kisses, “I just saw a video the other day and…”

“And?” He encourages you with a shift of his hips of his own, gaining a curse that slips past your lips.

“And then I saw you today in this.” The palm of your hand slips from his neck and into the fabric of the sweater, thumb passing over his nipple with purpose. He hisses in response. “So… We could leave it on, hm? What do you think?”

He raises an eyebrow, trying to bite his smile back “What did they do in the video, love?”

“Oh,” you giggle into his shoulder as he kisses every inch of skin available to him, “it was a homemade video. I don’t watch anything super produced, you know that. They, uhm… Fuck, babe,” he licks his way up the side of your neck, successfully making you melt against him. “She was looking at her phone and he was eating her out,” you manage to get out. “And then she got on her stomach, legs straight a-and closed while he fucked her. Used her, kinda.” He pulls back at that, both intrigued and wanting to see if that’s what you actually want.

“Used her to get off?”

You nod and he leans in, nose brushing yours.

“Is that what you want me to do with you?”

“After you get me off,” you whisper back, smiling without any shame at your request “yeah.”

Mingi takes his time to think about it. On purpose, letting the tension linger as he presses both palms against the mattress, leaning back just enough so you can catch him checking you out unapologetically. Truth being told, his dick is twitching in his pants at the thought of helping you explore. This has always been your dynamic in bed: exploring, searching, discovering new things that make you wet, researching new ways of making you come and there’s nothing that gets him off more than the idea of you getting away with what you want.

Even if that means sweating the fabric of this expensive sweater through. It’s okay, he has a washing machine. The way you wait for an answer, with eyes so bright and expectant, makes him bite his lip in return.

Yeah, there’s nothing he enjoys more than pleasing you.

He also knows you enjoy this.

The anticipation. The teasing, the way his hand returns to your legs and slides the material of the sweater up slightly, only to neglect the idea a second after and, instead, turning his hand and letting his knuckles brush against the fabric of it deliberately, with laced intention into the touch even though his expression remains pensive at the proposal.

A proposal he accepted, like, the second after you said it outloud.

“Do you know how much I love your tits, love?”

You let out a sigh as your answer and one look at you is enough to encourage him to keep going. Knuckles brushing upwards, he catches your firm nipple through the fabric. It's a little hard to do; considering you're probably wearing two layers underneath to shield you from the December cold; but he manages and you let out a needy whine.

“Do you know how much I love you if I’m going to fuck you without taking one look at them?”

Damn. He doesn’t really mean for his voice to sound so raspy but it does and the way your lips curve in mischief let’s him know that you catch it for what it really means: He’s so lost in it, in the sensual bickering, that he can’t help but show how affected he is, one way or another.

And then there’s the urgency of getting on with it because you don’t know how much time you get alone, until someone calls your phone and asks for you or until your parents get tired of the wine and come back home.

So it really does happen in a flash when you grab the collar of his sweater and smash his lips against yours with need, with a newfound spark that excites him. He practically rushes to take your bottoms off, to slide down until they pool at his ankles, to turn on the bed until you’re laying on your back and his mouth is marking your inner thighs, adding new color to the bruises already lingering there.

You’re twitching under his touch and he has to press your hips down to keep you still when he takes your panties off and dives into your folds. Usually, he would be prepping you to make a mess. You teached him how to make you squirt months ago, the day before you officially got together and he has had the pleasure of making you see stars since then.

Today, there’s not enough time.

So he wastes no time in devouring you like he knows you like it. Your leg thrown over his shoulder, the sweater and the shirt underneath rising just enough for him to thrust his hips against the bed at the image of your skin.

You try to keep it down, he sees you trying to contain yourself and under any other circumstances, he would scold you for depriving him of the sounds you make. But this time around, the view edges him. He wonders briefly what other scenarios he can propose to have you gulping down your moans, to make you gasp for air after pressing the palm of your own hand over your mouth so no more whines slip out of your lips.

He doubles his efforts, just to see you trying to contain yourself and failing to do so, again. It makes you double your efforts as well, probably just to spite him as you thrust your hips and chase your high, but it doesn't bother him.

If anything, it makes him harder than ever. The way you ride his face, the tongue that flattens out and then curves around your clit and your conviction falters, hips falling still at the way he sucks into your sensitive nub. Your hand in his hair pulls a little and the sting of pain almost makes him come untouched.

Chuckling into your heat, Mingi catches the exact moment your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels your limbs locking, he tastes your release when your orgasm hits you, he helps you ride out the sensation while pleased moans fill the room.

And, usually, he would kiss his way up to your lips. He could right now too, over the sweater, the idea of the fuzzy material mixing with your orgasm it's tempting but he remembers you have to see people after this as well.

He remembers he doesn't have much time.

And your words are ringing on the back of his head when his mouth latches onto yours again, when you moan after tasting yourself on his tongue.

He pulls away to silently ask the question: Do you want to keep going?

You nod, nose nuzzling his briefly before he turns you around. Harshly, like he knows you like it. He sees you grasp the comforter and a pillow between your fingers when he sinks himself into your wet heat, he hears the muffled cry when he adjusts a little and when you close your legs to lie flatly on the bed and in-between his, he all but sees stars at the feeling.

You're not tight. That's good, that's a sign that you're comfortable with him, trusting of him, a sign that you want you. This position makes it a snug fit, though, and when you purposefully squeeze around him he presses on his hands on your lower back with a groan.

“S-stop stalling, baby, we're running out of ti— Fuck, Mingi!”

Pulling out and then slamming his hips back down with measured force, he marvels in the feeling of you genuinely squeezing around him, out of pleasure and not to tease him.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks, forehead connecting with the soft material of the sweater when he leans over you, on your shoulder and smiles when you moan at the way he picks up the pace.

“Yes, yes, yes, f-fuck,” you mumble in response, head turning and breath fawning on his cheek that you attempt to kiss a second later, so he complies and turns his head to kiss you sweetly, a complete contrast of the way he's thrusting into you.

He falters when he notices just how hard he is going but your hand shoots back, attempts to grab his hip and your head shakes in disapproval.

“Don't stop,” you ask, breathless, eyes scanning his face to see if he's not into this but he assumes you don't find that because he is into it, “use me, my love. That's what I want.”

You don’t have to repeat yourself. He leans back up, hands finding a secure spot on your hips and uses you like you asked. He’s hardly the one to seek his own relief so soon. He likes to take his time with you, even when you don’t have much, and that means making you come undone at least twice before he even allows his dick to be touched, but now?

With how turned on he is? With how full of love he is for you?

He remembers the time, the years he didn’t allow himself to see you in nothing but platonic light. He remembers the feeling of your lips on his for the first time, he remembers the love you professed to him today and the way you make him feel so wanted, so adored, so—

“Oh— fuck.”

His pace falters, his orgasm so close he’s unable to keep chasing for it with the same measured force he was using before.

“Yes, Mingi,” you encourage, somehow managing to move your body upwards, meeting his own, “don’t stop, baby, please, I want to feel you inside of me.”

He vaguely registers himself moaning, babbling nonsense as his movements pick back up. He hears your voice distantly, like he’s underwater, like the way you tell him to come inside of him and that you love him it’s what’s pulling him back up.

And when he releases inside of you, his ears ring slightly and his forehead meets your back, eyes closed and chest heaving. He feels his heartbeat on his throat, he feels your heartbeat on your back and its rhythm matches his beautifully.

No one says anything for a few minutes where you both try and recover from the intensity of what you just did. Something new, something that leaves you both exhausted and he can see it on your sleepy and content smile when he pulls out and you turn around, not giving a fuck that you’re bedding is probably going to get sticky with his cum.

He throws himself besides you and your nose touches his cheek immediately.

“That was…”

“So good,” you say and he hugs you close, breath still ragged, “and we should definitely look into sweater fetish or whatever it’s called. I think you enjoyed it more than me.”

He gasps in feign offense.

“Stop projecting, love.”

“Am not—”

“Yes, you are,” he sing-songs back and you weakly hit his arm with your fist. You don’t say anything afterwards and Mingi stops staring at the stars in your ceiling to look at you.

You’re staring at your ring. He smiles, all the emotions that your words brought to him coming right back.

“I want to marry you, Y/N.”

He says it without really thinking it through. He doesn’t regret it even when you look up at him with a little panic behind your eyes.

“Now?”

He laughs “Someday,” shrugging, his lips connect with your hairline and you sigh, snuggling up to him a bit more “There’s going to be two more rings that I’m going to give to you and only you.”

“Good thing you got my ring size right.”

Your joke makes him laugh and you lean up against his chest a bit to look at him.

“I’m going to say yes, Mingi,” you whisper and he melts against the pillow, his hand on your cheek a second later. He sees your eyes go down to the ring on his necklace and the smile that brings to your lips makes his heart pick up again. “And then I’m going to show off my ring to everyone and I’m going to be insufferable as a wife. I hope you’re ready.”

You fall back down on his chest, cheek just above the beating of his heart and eyes closed. The smile lingers on your lips and, as he brushes your hair back with his hand and smooths his hand under your sweater, he can’t help but smile back.

“I don’t want it any other way, love.”

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH and happy holidays! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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redwinelew · 5 months ago

Text

the boy is mine | lewis hamilton [3/3]

social media au. latina + singer!reader

summary — a certain formula 1 driver caught your attention, and you can't help but let the whole world know about your attraction. (read part one and two here)

face claim — rosalia

song — the boy is mine by ariana grande

warnings — none!

author's note — apologize that pt3 took so long!! i got sick lol. but here's the final part!! i love this series so much and i hope u guys enjoyed it as much as i loved making it!

all pictures taken from pinterest. credit to owners.

messages!

instagram!

liked by ynln, lewishamilton and 7,937 others

f1wagsupdates YN LN supporting Lewis Hamilton at the Belgium Grand Prix today!

via photographeruser

view all 256 comments

user1 omg yn wag debut 🙏🏼

user2 lewis already lurking in the likes 😭😭

user3 their smiles 😭🩷

user4 bringing her to the merc garage already.... chat how serious do we think they are

user5 user4 probably just friends. personally i do not see this progressing as an actual relationship

user6 user5 i hope not cause they look so adorable together though :(

user7 user6 honestly if yn hornily wrote "bed chem" about lewis then "guess" WITH lewis and still failed to get the man it'd be so hilarious lmfao

user6 user7 it'd be HIS loss though imagine fumbling someone like yn 🙏🏼

user7 user6 fair enough

instagram!

liked by pierregasly, carmenmmundt and 926,213 others

ynln george in the back bcs that pic didn't match the aesthetic of my feed

tagged lewishamilton, f1, mercedesamgf1 and georgerussell63

view all 10,638 comments

ynln also congrats on the win or whatever lewishamilton

lewishamilton ynln ouch

lewishamilton ynln congratulating me as a second thought? i regret inviting you already

ynln lewishamilton i would've been there either way 🙏🏼

lewishamilton ynln if i recall correctly you said showing up at the race is a bad idea and that people would talk

ynln lewishamilton i didn't say i wouldn't be there period 🙏🏼 i had to show otherwise you would have lost

lewishamilton ynln my good luck charm ❤️❤️ this is why i love you

ynln lewishamilton i know right you are soooo lucky to have me

user1 ynln lewishamilton damn should we leave????

user2 user1 FR LIKE YN ARE WE INTERRUPTING SOMETHING 😭😭

user3 ynln lewishamilton oh my god they are DATING dating i'm freaking out like crazy right now

user4 ynln lewishamilton SHE GOT THE BOY

user5 ynln lewishamilton omw to write a horny love song about my crush so he'd like me back brb 🏃🏻‍♀️🌬️

georgerussell63 i'm hurt yn and i already got dsq

user6 georgerussell63 LMFAO POOR GEORGE 😭😭

carmenmmundt loved talking to you we should hang out soon!!

ynln carmenmmundt would love to!! text me babe

user7 carmenmmundt ynln they're bffs already omg

user8 user7 mercedes wags have to stick together 🙏🏼

instagram!

liked by ameliadimz, ayame.p and 3,162,738 others

lewishamilton the win might be mine but this boy is forever hers ❤️

tagged ynln

view all 12,263 comments

ynln OKAYYYY

ynln i'm putting that caption in the song btw

lewishamilton ynln you can take full credit baby

ynln lewishamilton ofc i am you wouldn't be coming up with that clever ass caption if it wasn't me 🙏🏼

user1 ynln WHAT SONG

user2 ynln DON'T IGNORE US

user3 ynln she's so 😭😭

user4 THEY ARE HARD LAUNCHING EVERYBODY STAY FUCKING CALM

user5 this is so crazy we already seen them saying i love you on this app PUBLICLY and yet i still can't believe they are actually dating rn 😭😭

user6 user5 I KNOW RIGHT and to rhink this all started bcs she was down bad for this man 😭😭

user5 user6 she's giving me the courage to confess to my crush but i just KNOW as soon as i try i'd fumble it so bad

taglist — @seonghwaexile @totallynotluluu @omgsuperstarg @exotic-iris13 @formulaal @josephqunnies @book-obsesseds-world @st4rgirl-ellie @czennieszn

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lascvitae · 2 months ago

Text

♯┆get along better .ᐟ

synopsis. you and megan were like two peas in a pod. wherever one went, the other would always follow. it had been that way forever. but once you began to stray away from megan’s arms and fall into daniela’s, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

pairing(s). daniela x fem!reader x megan genre. fluff, angst (i’m sorry) warning(s). cursing, making out, megan isn’t a VERY good best friend, reader’s mother is eh…

word count: 4.9k (not proofread)

“but now i get along better with your friend.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ katty ᥫ᭡: posting this at such a bad time BUT i wrote this for my bae @jsxjmn ngl i’ve been losing SOO much sleep over this fic omg, i didn’t prepare for it to be this long (still making a part two btw) but i hope you like it!! also sorry for the angst i literally breathe angst okay sorry bye 🙈🙈 i lowk cried while writing this it was tew real

masterlist.

2 days before megan left.

the day started out like any other. it was another regular wednesday and you were making your way downstairs after getting dressed for school.

“goodmorning, miss l/n!” you heard megan before you reached the last stair, yawning to show how sleepy you still were. “goodmorning, my dear. hopefully you’ll get an email today.” your mother winked at the girl, eliciting a light giggle.

megan was your best friend of fourteen years, and you’ve celebrated every single milestone with her. she was part of your family at this point with how often she was around.

but your feelings for her exceeded the friend limit — all of the time that you spent together eventually led to your feelings becoming stronger than ever. but you were almost completely sure that she didn’t feel the same.

why was that? because recently she had been distant. she could go hours — even days on end without responding to you, practically ghosting you. then she would return with the same excuse. “i was busy.”

and you allowed her back in every single time.

“y/n! you look so cute!” megan chirped with her mouth full. there was a cream cheese bagel in her dominant hand so you could only assume that’s what she was eating.

you smiled at the compliment, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie. it was a feeling that only megan would give you.

“thank you, megan.” you closed your eyes as she fixed your hair for you. “is that my hoodie?” she asked. the close proximity of your bodies allowed for you to smell her perfume, leaving you feeling dizzy.

“maybe.” you responded sheepishly, opening your eyes to meet her beautiful ones. her smile was infectious, poisoning your entire heart with laughter. “that’s where it went!”

your mother handed megan the matching water bottles that you two had, reminding you of her presence. “don’t forget to hydrate, girls. especially you, megan. you work so hard that it worries me.” megan hugged your mother tightly. “you’re the kindest, miss l/n!”

“i wish y/n was more like you.” you rolled your eyes at her statement. your mother was buttering her up again so that she could stay around this time. you knew it all too well. but a part of you wished that you were more like megan as well. you adored her.

“let’s go before we’re late.” she took your hand, practically dragging you out of the doorway. she could sense the shift in your mood and so she wanted to do everything to make it better. “we won’t have time to stop at dunkin if you keep walking so slow.”

─────────

the coffee that megan purchased for you was the only thing that was getting you through the day, along with the doodles she left on your cup before you walked inside of the school building.

you had been yawning all day, lost in thought of what you were going to do for your final art project.

one moment you were in your head and the next you were on the floor rubbing your head.

“shit, sorry! are you okay?” you heard the voice ask before you looked up, taking the girl’s hand. she leaned down to pick up your water bottle and your gaze followed, getting a peek of the hem to the calvin klein boxers that hugged her hips.

you had just ran into daniela.

she had a concerned expression on her face while you stood up, holding your hand for a moment longer than needed.

“i’m fine.” you muttered, taking the water bottle back into your own hands. “are you?” she exhaled, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “i’m okay, y/n. don’t worry about me.” she instantly recognized the hoodie you wore as megan’s.

the silence was awkward. you and daniela didn’t talk much unless either of you needed something — most likely due to you ranting about megan, and you only knew her for two reasons. she was megan’s best friend and captain of the cheerleading team.

that was something you usually stood clear of due to the attention that it brought. a canvas and brush was more of your thing, rather than a cheer and some pom-poms. you never really liked basketball or football either.

so you and daniela were from two different worlds, but you shared conversation solely because of megan.

you sat next to her in chemistry class during junior year and that was when you really began to consider her a friend. or at least more than an acquaintance.

“what class do you have? i’ll walk you.” she offered with her infamous charming smile. she was basically everyone’s crush for obvious reasons.

“it’s a free period for me, actually. i’m gonna work on my final project for art.” you explained, tugging on your lower lip.

“really? can i see?” she asked in an excited tone. daniela was the type of friend who you didn’t talk to everyday but you could depend on. she never got a real chance to see your artwork but it was something that she looked forward to.

you couldn’t deny her request because of how it visibly piqued her interest. “sure, why not?” you shrugged.

─────────

once the clock hit 2:05 and the ringing of the bell you dreaded so badly followed behind, you practically leapt out of your seat and traversed through the halls towards student parking.

all types of chatter filled the hallways and you skillfully avoided a variety of people, adjusting your headphones so you could continue to drown everything out.

you were mouthing the lyrics to the song playing in your ears until someone suddenly grabbed your shoulder. with your eyebrows furrowed, you were ready to tell them off until you saw who it was.

it was daniela.

your expression immediately softened and you uncovered one ear so that you could hear her clearly. “dani? did you need anything?” her heart skipped a beat with the way you said her name.

“nah. i was just wondering if you were busy?” while it was unusual for her to be asking you to hangout, it wasn’t the first time.

you tried to fight back your smile, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie. “the only thing i had planned was to work on my project some more.” her smile widened at the mention of your work.

“can i come over? or is there only enough seats for you and meg?” the mention of megan made you remember that she was probably waiting for you right now. and as if on cue, your phone buzzed with an incoming text message.

reaching for your phone from your back pocket, you confirmed that it was megan texting you. “no, it’s fine.” you started. “just come over whenever. you have my number.” you explained with a smile, shoving your phone into your hoodie.

“but i’ve gotta go. see you later, kay?” the conversation ended there and it left you with a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. even though it was nearing graduation, you were looking forward to becoming closer to daniela.

little did you know, she was feeling the same.

─────────

as soon as you climbed into the passenger seat of megan’s car you were met with the barely concealed excitement of the girl.

“what? what!” you asked as she just stared at you, squealing quietly. you smiled, letting out a breathless chuckle. “tell me, megan!”

“okay okay okay!” she moved her hair from out of her face, taking a deep bresth to flush down the excitement. “remember how i told you about how i’ve been emailing different companies?” you nodded along, feeling her take your hands into her own.

“sergio hudson wants to feature my design in LA fashion week!” she squealed out, practically bouncing with excitement. “this is big news, babe!” you had no idea who these important names were but if it meant a lot to megan, it meant a lot to you.

for the entire time of your friendship, megan had shown the most interest in fashion and graphic design. there had been multiple occasions where she even had you model her pieces for her.

“you did? that’s great, megan!” you cheered, allowing her to pull you into a tight hug and pepper kisses all over your face. it was slightly uncomfortable with how you were bent over the console but you didn’t mind it.

she was nearly crying tears of joy with the opportunity provided to her. “i couldn’t have done it without you, precious.” she finally pulled away, giving you room to breathe. it felt like your heart would burst through your chest if she continued.

“you’re my muse, y/n.” that wasn’t the first time you heard those words but it felt like it was. with megan, everything felt like the first time. “you have to come with me.”

“what?”

“your mom will understand! i know she will. i don’t — i can’t go without you.” the distance between the two of you grew, scaring both sides. “please.” her voice had dropped to a whisper and nothing could be heard other than anxious breathes and the chatter of people around the car.

“i… i don’t know. LA?” you stammered, throat suddenly going dry. you had never flown before. let alone across the country. “it’s not that far.”

“that’s across the country, megan.” you protested, furrowing your eyebrows. “only for a bit! it’ll only be a week.” all of your complaints went in one ear and out of the other. she was set on persuading you.

your eyes widened. “a week? megan, my art project is due by the end of this month. i can’t waste a week like that!” she huffed with a low spirit. “it won’t be a waste. you’re going to be with me.”

“i can’t do it.” you declared, looking away. megan fell back in her seat in response, swallowing her disappointment. “you know, y/n. if the roles were reversed i’d come with you in a heartbeat.”

the statement made your stomach turn. “megan—“ she interrupted you, crossing her arms. “no, y/n. you’re supposed to be my best friend.” her words hung in the air, choking you with the amount of tension they brought.

“i should be saying that.” your voice broke near the end of the sentence. “don’t pull that card on me, y/n. you know i’ve been bu—“ she raised her hand, retracting it once you interrupted her this time around.

“i’m only your best friend when it benefits you. it’s unfair. it’s unfair how you can go days without talking to me then come back to me like nothing happened. it’s unfair how i’m worried sick about you and you take hours to respond. it’s unfair how i’m putting in so much more effort than you are and yet my mother still picks you over me.” you began to rant.

“and it’s unfair how even after all of this i’m still in love with—“ you stopped yourself, freezing in place. megan’s eyes were wide, realization dawning upon her. hastily wiping your tears away, you excused yourself. “i’m just — i’m just gonna go.”

you reached for the door handle, leaving as quickly as you could and ignoring megan’s call for you.

you walked mindlessly through the parking lot, desperately wiping at your tears and starting to steady your breathing. you had just confessed to megan, and you could still hear her calling for you.

your friendship was over, you thought. no, you were sure of it. you and megan never argued. you lost your one and only best friend.

suddenly, you felt a strong force grab your shoulder and spin you around. “god, y/n. i’ve been calling your name for ages.” the sweet and familiar voice spoke. daniela. “do you have your headphones—“

daniela noticed the faucet in your eyes, face immediately sewn with concern. “are you crying? what happened?” she released the grip on your shoulder, awaiting some kind of response.

you instinctively hugged her with shaky hands, sobbing into her chest. she was always there whenever you needed her.

“woah, y/n. talk to me. do you wanna talk?” the embrace was hesitantly reciprocated, trying to calm you down with soothing circles to your back. once you didn’t weigh up a response she decided to take you to a more secluded area.

“we’re gonna go to my car, okay? is that alright?”

1 day before megan left.

you haven’t talked to megan since yesterday and she hasn’t made any attempts at conversation with you either.

daniela was worried about you — she refused to leave your side until she truly believed that you were okay.

you set your headphones around your neck while walking downstairs, trying to ignore the fact that you would have to see megan at school.

“morning mom.” you forced a smile and while your mother may have bought it, it was likely that no one else would.

you carelessly set two strawberry poptarts into the toaster with a sigh, taking your phone out of your back pocket.

leaning against the counter as you scrolled through your notifications, you felt your heart drop for the nth time in less than twenty four hours. megan still hadn’t texted you.

you couldn’t do it. you wanted to crawl in bed and have megan wrap her arms around you like how she was supposed to.

“how is your project going, honey?” you heard your mother ask and you swallowed your tears, smiling once more as the toaster dinged to indicate that the poptarts were ready. “it’s going fine.” you answered, wrapping them in a paper towel.

“that’s good to hear.” she handed you the water bottle that matched your best friend’s. “is megan picking you up?”

the name tugged at your heart. “no, daniela is today.” you answered, shoving the water bottle away into the sides of your backpack. of course she’d ask about megan. she always would. “i’ll probably be home late.”

─────────

“i don’t think it goes this way.” you muttered as daniela fiddled with the lego pieces, concentration etched onto her face.

you sat down on a nearby stool, frowning from the soreness in your knees. daniela had to be feeling the same. “um, let’s just try it again later.” you offered.

daniela was so determined, trying multiple different options just to get it finished. she knew how badly you wanted to get it done and that was her ulterior motive. along with wanting to cheer you up, of course.

megan had purchased you the paris lego set ages ago but had been too busy to build it with you. and after the argument, you weren’t sure if it was ever going to be done. so, daniela offered after dance practice.

daniela let out a sigh. “i’m hungry anyway.” she placed the piece she was holding, then another. then another.

“dani!” you scolded yet there was a hint of playfulness in your tone. she laughed, sitting down at your desk. “fine! i’m done now.” you shook your head.

the almost half finished eiffel tower sat on a table that you two had dragged to the middle of your workroom. it was where you spent most of your time.

all sorts of things were scattered around. paintbrushes, markers, acrylics, watercolors — you name it. if there was one thing you loved to do, it was experiment.

megan even had a fashion mannequin in the corner of the room, and when your eyes landed upon it, the events replayed in your head.

daniela spinned around in your desk chair, tapping the armrests as she glanced around. “did you do all of this?” she asked, referring to the diverse paintings dispersed across the walls.

“yeah.” you shrugged and her eyebrows raised in awe. her attention focused back onto the scrapped drawings on your desk, looking through them. “these are really good.” she mumbled.

receiving attention from her made you shy but you tried to hide the fact. “thanks.” you smiled, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie.

“is this meg—“ you cleared your throat, standing up from your seat and reaching for the lamp that was providing light for you and daniela. “hey, you said you were hungry right?” she could barely see the drawing anymore but there was no need. she knew that it was megan.

─────────

“look at that cloud. it looks like a cat.” daniela pointed from the trunk of her car, taking a sip of her boba. your eyes followed her finger, giggling as you made out the animal. “i see it.”

the sunset was gorgeous and you couldn’t resist the urge to take out your phone to snap a photo. daniela set down her cup, smiling at you. “you gonna paint this later?” shoving your phone back into your pocket, you took another bite of your sushi while shaking your head.

“it was too pretty, but i’ve gotta finish my project first.” her smile widened. “you’ve gotta let me see.” her voice was so soft and genuine that you had to give in.

“you still haven’t talked to megan?” you were preparing yourself for the question but not for how you would answer it.

“no. i don’t know if she needs some time or if we’re done.” you shrugged, staring at the sunset. you could feel daniela’s eyes burning holes into your side profile and it gave you a unusual feeling.

daniela hummed, copying your posture of leaning back onto her hands. it felt weird to be seeing her in such a relaxed manner, you were so used to seeing her cheer.

she was content because you were.

“i’m here for you. you know that?” daniela spoke quietly, looking back at the sunset. the silence that surrounded you both was comforting and unfamiliar.

“we have a game tomorrow night. you should come.” she offered and your heartbeat began to accelerate. basketball wasn’t necessarily your interest, nor was football.

“it’s our last game. and you’ve been working nonstop. it’s a miracle i even got you out of the house.” she held her knees, chuckling softly.

you wanted to say no but it was an opportunity to hang out with daniela. how could you?

“okay, i’ll be there.” you nodded.

─────────

the game didn’t start making much sense to you until halftime. more people began to arrive and daniela was giving you a rundown of how basketball games worked. she had your attention all game, so you forgot that you were even supposed to be watching the players on the court.

you were trying to stay focused. you kept staring at the way her lips moved with certain syllables and you suddenly you were reminded of how pretty she was. had she always looked like this?

“and after halftime the goals switch. y/n, are you listening, love?” she snapped in front of your face, laughing breathily.

“yeah, i was listening.” you smiled, handing her the grape powerade that you had purchased for her at the concession stand. she stole a nacho off of your plate and popped it into her mouth.

“you’re basically a basketball connoisseur now. i know, i’m so great at explaining things.” she flipped her hair and you playfully shoved her shoulder in response.

“i’m just here for you. and you suck at explaining, by the way.” you bit into a soggy nacho, following her back to the space on the bleachers that you were sitting at.

“better than you. when you tried to explain anything to me in chemistry i was so confused.” she joked, sitting next to you as she continued to dine off your plate.

“that’s just because you suck at science, dani.” you rolled your eyes, holding the nachos out while she ate. there wasn’t much time on the clock left and she was stuffing her face now.

you giggled at how cute she was, making your heart feel a certain way that no one else ever had before.

no one else but megan.

“go out there!” you nudged her as she tried to fit as many nachos in her mouth as she could, shaking your head in disapproval. “they’ll be here when you get back.” that was the truth. they were too soggy for your taste.

daniela smiled at you with chubby cheeks, a smudge of cheese on the corner of her lips. “wait!” you searched around for the napkin, leaning forward and wiping it away.

the action made daniela’s cheeks turn a shade of red, smile widening uncontrollably as she watched you with sparkles in her eyes. “thank you, love.”

you tugged onto your lower lip. “break a leg, miss dani.” she blew you a kiss while skipping backwards, walking over to her spot.

─────────

once the game finally ended, you were waiting patiently for daniela to put sweatpants over her cheer uniform so that she wasn’t too cold.

“what do you have a taste for, y/n?” she asked as she tied the drawstrings and slipped the skirt off afterwards. this was the daniela you preferred. comfortable and relaxed.

“whatever. i’ll eat anything.” you shrugged, shoving the skirt into her cheer bag so that she didn’t have to.

she jumped down, taking the bag from your hand and searching for her keys. once she located them you two were on the way to her parked car.

─────────

“see? way better than those nasty ass nachos.” daniela rolled her eyes as she took a bite of her calzone. “they weren’t even that bad.”

you scoffed as you swallowed the portion of your pasta. “the cheese literally tasted like plastic. and the nachos were so soggy.” your complaining only made daniela roll her eyes again.

her sky blue phone was positioned with both of you in the frame, recording the whole conversation.

“like… i feel like that was the remains of a nuclear explosion —“ you continued and she bursted into laughter, slapping your shoulder to shut you up.

“my god! it wasn’t even that bad!” you both giggled as she went for another bite of her calzone. “at least your pasta is good.”

you nodded, humming to back up the statement even further. “it’s so good. you wanna try it?” once you offered she set her own food to the side, nodding her head.

you gathered a generous amount of pasta onto the fork, preparing to feed it to daniela. “ready?” you asked her, making eye contact as you held the fork up.

everything after that happened so quickly that you barely even knew how to react. she leaned over the console, taking ahold of your chin and softly pressing her lips against yours.

the overwhelming urge to hold and protect you coursed throughout her veins, deepening the kiss and pulling you even closer.

once you realized what was happening you met her kiss with fervor, surrendering completely to the feeling of her lips.

her hands roamed your back, arms, anywhere that she could reach, and she’s positive that she’s never felt so possessive and protective over anyone before.

it was different than any kiss she’s ever shared. it was slow and intimate, making the entire situation even more intense.

the moment you broke the kiss you found company in eachother’s gaze, chests heaving with weighty breaths.

“it tastes good.” she shrugged as if she weren’t devouring your lips moments before.

“i’m glad.” you laughed breathlessly. “can… can we kiss again?” you spoke up sheepishly, tugging on the sleeves of your hoodie.

she chose to answer your question with another kiss, silencing any further questions.

0 days before megan left.

daniela woke you up with light taps to your jaw, face contorting into the brightest smile once you finally opened your eyes.

“goodmorning, cariño.” she pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, turning around to grab the tray that was behind her.

“i made you breakfast!” you gasped, sitting up and examining the plate that she had prepared for you. “oh my god, are you a chef?” she poured the syrup over the pancakes for you, even cutting them to make it easier.

“eat up, babe.” she kissed your cheek before standing up straight. “i’ll be back. i’m getting your drink, kay?” you nodded in response, sighing contentedly as you stared down at the feast before you.

ready to dig in, you were interrupted by the buzzing of your phone. what you didn’t expect was the notification before you.

well, you did expect the notifications from your mother. she was most likely worried if you were okay or not.

you nearly dropped your phone into the breakfast daniela made for you, heartbeat accelerating as if someone pressed a button. megan finally sent you a text.

‘are u busy? can we talk?’

you bit your bottom lip due to nervousness, avoiding opening up the message because you had on read receipts.

suddenly, your appetite was completely gone.

you wanted your best friend back, yes, but you were terrified of what she was going to say. you weren’t sure if she hated you after your confession or if she wanted to end the friendship here for good.

either way, you were frightened of the possibility.

daniela came back upstairs with a glass of orange juice and plate of her own. “here.” her arm reached out and she almost immediately noticed the look on your face, climbing in bed next to you.

“what is it?” she asked curiously, stealing a bite of your scrambled eggs. you playfully sucked your teeth at her actions, turning to look at her. “what?”

“megan texted me.” daniela gasped, moving closer towards you. “are you okay? what’d she say?”

you showed her the notification, taking the glass of orange juice and chugging it with haste.

“are you going to?” she watched you chug the glass with concern, taking it from you. “slow down, mi amor…” you set the plate down on the opposite end of her bed, climbing out and making your way to the bathroom.

“y/n.” daniela followed you, wrapping her arms around your waist. “you can’t avoid her forever. she’s your childhood best friend.”

“she was.” you quickly corrected, splashing your face with water. “no, y/n.” daniela sighed. “you’re still best friends. one argument can’t get rid of that.”

even if you tried to ignore her words you knew that they held some value in them.

“she probably hates me now. i’m only her best friend when she wants me to be.” you scoffed, staring at daniela’s face in the mirror.

“i’m serious.” daniela tried to convince you, returning your gaze. “i know she doesn’t hate you.”

“because i’m starting to see why she’s so crazy in love with you.”

─────────

it was around ten pm when you raised your hand to knock on the front door to megan’s house, sucking in a breath as you prepared yourself to face her.

you tried to ignore the negative thoughts and push them to the back of your mind, knocking on the wooden door.

it didn’t take long for megan to answer the door, fiddling with her fingers. you could see the suitcase sitting behind her frame as she stepped out, clearing her throat and closing the door behind her.

“hey.” she mumbled, looking down at her hands. you could tell that she was nervous with how she kept fiddling with her fingers and avoiding your gaze.

“hi.” you smiled, stepping aside to give her room to stand on the porch. it was silent for a minute and you assumed that she was collecting her thoughts.

“um. i’m sorry. for how i’ve been acting and how i spoke to you. i kinda overreacted.” she sniffled. “and um, i think i know why.” she continued. you stayed silent, listening to her speak.

“you drive me insane — not just because you’re my closest friend and the person i practically center my whole heart around, but there’s more to it.”

her hand reached out to softly grab yours, finally looking into your eyes. the way that the sun was hitting her face made it slightly difficult to see the tears forming in her eyes but you could still make them out.

“i love you y/n. more than friends, i think. i think i’m falling for you. you’re the only one who’s ever saw me for me.” it felt like your voicebox had been ripped out of body. you heard a loud familiar voice coming from inside of the house.

“meiyok! are you packed? we have to get to the airport.”

megan stepped backwards, wiping away the tears that finally spilled over. your throat was constricted by overwhelming thoughts that you couldn’t voice, trembling hands scratching at your shirt.

megan hugged you with so much force that you almost fell backwards, molding your frame against her own. “i love you, y/n. i’ll change for you if i need to.” her voice was thick with emotion, holding back even more tears that dared to escape.

“think about it, please? you’re my muse. i can’t lose you.” then she proceeded to peck your cheek, reluctantly letting you free and disappearing back into the house you didn’t feel welcome inside of anymore. you felt as though you were being drowned.

the sound of the door shutting brought you back to your senses, tasting the saltiness of your own tears and standing there, chasing after megan’s after image.

and that was it. she was leaving for LA at twelve am.

the first thing that you could think of was to call daniela to come rescue you.

perm taglist — @saysirhc @aedollie @prologue-ae

#get along better — da & ms #katseye imagines #megan katseye #megan x reader #megan skiendiel #daniela katseye #daniela x reader #daniela avanzini #katseye x reader #wlw

319 notes · View notes

cosmiclily · 14 days ago

Note

teehee hii again - i noticed that u had a caitlyn request and omg do i have requests 🤭

im thinking ofc x fem reader, could u do like university or college?? some sorta sport element amddd here's the best bit. caitlyn after training every morning and ungodly hours goes to this coffee house and every morning, there's this cute girl barista who takes her order and it gets to the point that she has her order ready for her already. and Caitlyn is smooth and flirty and barista is like flirty but more shy. ok one more thing - they would exchange socials and like and comment on stories and posts. THANK YOU SO MUCHHHH your fics acct make my day i love youuu

💐 - some flowers

morning shift (derogatory)

✰ caitlyn x f!reader

wc: 4.8k

notes: i’ve been trying to post this for AGES, the app kept crashing and my computer wasn’t turning on 😭😭😭 how have you guys been?

Getting the morning shift and having to wake up at five in the morning was far from ideal. In fact, it was the last thing you ever wanted to do. Dragging yourself out of bed, forcing yourself into the shower, and getting dressed while barely conscious was pure torture. You didn’t just feel like a zombie—you looked like one too.

But all of that became worth it the moment she walked into the coffee shop.

A goddess in tiny training shorts, a jacket so tight it perfectly accentuated her waist, and legs that seemed to go on forever. Every morning, like clockwork, she’d rush in, order her stupid green juice and iced americano, and somehow make suffering through the early shift feel like a blessing.

You would take this shift for the rest of your life if it meant getting to see her.

And today, just like every other morning, Caitlyn Kiramman strolled in, hair slightly messy from her run, cheeks flushed from the cold. But what really sent a jolt through your sleep-deprived body was the way her lips curled into a teasing smile as she approached the counter.

“Good morning,” she said, leaning against the counter ever so slightly. “The usual, please. And maybe… a smile from my favorite barista?”

You nearly choked on your own breath.

A smile? From her favorite barista?

You scrambled to plaster the biggest, most natural-looking smile on your face (which, given the ungodly hour, wasn't easy). “Of course,” you said smoothly, ignoring how your heart was now hammering in your chest. “That’ll cost you extra, though.”

Caitlyn chuckled, handing over her money, her fingers brushing against yours for a second too long to be an accident. “Worth it.”

She took a seat at her usual table, and as she walked away, you shamelessly let your eyes trail after her, taking in the way those tiny shorts hugged her ass perfectly.

“You should just give her your number, you know?” your coworker commented, picking up a cup beside you. “She comes in every day, flirts with you, and you just stand there grinning like an idiot. Write your number on her cup. Do something.It’s getting a little pathetic.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you started preparing her drink. “Caitlyn Kiramman is way out of my league. I’m nothing but a mere mortal in her goddess realm.”

Your coworker snorted. “Okay, poet, but have you considered that maybe—just maybe—she likes her coffee a little more than usual because of the person making it?”

That made you pause for a split second before you shook it off. No way. There was no chance in hell that Caitlyn Kiramman—beautiful, confident, rich Caitlyn Kiramman—would ever look twice at you.

So, as always, you just wrote one of your cheesy pickup lines on her cup, adding a little smiley face next to it, and went on with your day like it didn’t mean anything.

You went to class, dozed off between lectures, ate lunch half-aware of your surroundings, and then finally made your way home, exhausted. But even as you lay in bed, you couldn’t stop yourself from replaying your morning interaction with Caitlyn. The way her fingers had brushed against yours, the way she smiled when she read your note—was it just your sleep-deprived brain making things up, or was there something there?

The next morning, there you were again. Five a.m., standing under the shower, letting the warm water run over you as you took the slowest shower of your life. Your mind was occupied with one thing and one thing only—what line you were going to scribble on Caitlyn’s cup today. And, if you were being completely honest, a tiny part of you was also daydreaming about what outfit she’d be wearing.

Would it be the black shorts today? Or maybe the navy blue ones that hugged her just right? Would she zip up her jacket, or would you get a glimpse of the tight sports bra underneath?

You shook your head, forcing yourself back to reality and going to work. You need help.

For some unknown reason, you felt extra antsy today. Your stomach was fluttering in a way that had nothing to do with hunger, and the anticipation was getting to you. So when the clock hit 6:45, you automatically started making Caitlyn’s drinks, your hands moving on autopilot. You blended her green juice, strained it, and set up the coffee to brew, wondering if today she would actually stick to her usual order or throw you off by asking for something different.

“What are you doing?” your coworker asked, staring at you like you had lost your mind. The coffee shop was empty, the lights still dim, and not a single customer had walked in yet.

“Making Caitlyn’s drinks” you replied simply.

They frowned. “Uh… there’s no one in line.”

“She comes in at seven sharp every morning,” you explained casually, still focused on your task. “It takes me 10 minutes to blend and strain her juice and for the coffee to finish brewing. That leaves me with five minutes to think of something to write and cup her drinks so they’re still fresh.”

You said it like it was nothing. Like it was a perfectly logical, totally normal thing to be this dedicated to one customer’s order.

Your coworker just stared at you for a long moment before sighing, shaking their head. “You’re crazy, you know that, right?”

You shrugged, pouring the freshly brewed coffee into a cup. “If this is crazy, I don’t want to be sane.”

They snorted, rolling their eyes. “Alright, Romeo, at this point, you might as well just ask her out.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Yeah, right.”

But then, at exactly 7 a.m., there she was.

Earbuds in, navy blue jacket, black shorts, high ponytail—looking like she had just stepped out of a magazine. She had that effortless kind of beauty, the kind that made the world slow down for a second, the kind that made you forget how exhausted you were.

You barely had time to compose yourself before she was standing in front of the register, and you forced your brain to function.

“Good morning, the usual?” you asked, maybe a little too eagerly, but could anyone blame you?

Caitlyn pulled out her earbuds, flashing you that smile that had you questioning every life decision you had ever made. “Certainly a good morning now that I saw you.”

Your brain short-circuited.

Did she—did she just say—?

“And yes, please, the usual,” she added casually, as if she hadn’t just dropped that line like it was nothing.

You scrambled to punch in her order, hoping she didn’t notice the heat creeping up your neck. “Right—yeah, coming right up.”

As you handed her the cups, her fingers brushed against yours again, and this time, you swore she did it on purpose. She glanced at the side of the cup, reading the little note you had scribbled there:

Are you French? Because Eiffel for you.

A soft chuckle left her lips, and she shook her head, amused. “This one was bad.”

You grinned. “But did it work?”

She looked up at you, something playful in her gaze. “Maybe.”

And with that, she took her drinks and walked to her usual table, leaving you standing there, gripping the register like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

Your coworker, who had been watching the entire interaction with barely concealed amusement, leaned in. “So, uh… still think she’s out of your league?”

You swallowed hard, eyes still on Caitlyn as she sipped her coffee, her lips curled into a smirk.

Yeah. You were so screwed.

──────────────────────

On a random Thursday night, just as you were winding down and nearly ready for bed, your phone pinged with a notification.

@CKiramman followed you.

You stared at your screen like it had just grown a second head.

For a moment, you thought you were seeing things. Maybe your sleep-deprived brain was playing tricks on you. But no—the notification was real. You picked up your phone, unlocked it, and there it was. Caitlyn Kiramman had actually followed you on Instagram.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you clicked on her profile. Her account wasn’t private, which meant you could see everything—pictures from her morning runs, candid shots of her with friends, a few elegant photos from what looked like fancy Galas (because, of course, she was that kind of rich), and even a couple of casual selfies. You scrolled down absently, then snapped yourself out of it.

Focus.

Had she searched for you? Did she somehow already know your name? Or—your stomach flipped—had she actually been interested enough to ask someone?

Before you could spiral too much, another notification popped up.

@CKiramman liked your photo.

And not just any photo.

One from three months ago.

Your eyes widened. Oh, she scrolled.

Your mind raced. Should you message her? Follow her back? Ignore it and pretend you weren’t currently gripping your phone like your life depended on it?

Before you could decide, another message appeared.

Caitlyn Kiramman: So, are you ever going to give me your number, or do I have to keep deciphering bad pickup lines on my coffee cups?

Your mouth fell open.

Holy. Shit.

You stared at the message, your brain short-circuiting.

Caitlyn Kiramman had followed you, stalked your profile, liked an old photo, and now she was flirting with you in your messages.

What alternate universe had you fallen into?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, but every possible response sounded either too eager or too indifferent. You needed something cool, something casual—something that didn’t scream I’ve been lowkey in love with you since the first time you walked into my coffee shop in tiny shorts.

After what felt like an eternity (but was actually 37 seconds, not that you were counting), you finally typed back:

You: You decipher them? I thought you just rolled your eyes and ignored my genius.

The little “typing” bubble appeared almost instantly.

Caitlyn Kiramman: Oh, don’t get me wrong. Some of them are truly awful. But they’re entertaining.

You grinned.

You: That bad, huh? Should I start charging extra for the comedy?

Caitlyn Kiramman: I think you’ve already overcharged me. Every morning I walk in expecting just coffee, and instead, I leave with a new terrible joke and a distraction for the rest of the day.

Your heart did an actual flip.

You stared at her message, rereading it at least five times before you processed what she was saying. A distraction for the rest of the day? Was she serious? Was she just teasing? Was Caitlyn Kiramman really implying that she thought about youafter she left?

Before you could think too hard about it, another message popped up.

Caitlyn Kiramman: So? Are you going to give me your number, or do I have to find another way to keep myself entertained?

You exhaled sharply, fingers shaking slightly as you typed back:

You: Wouldn’t want you to suffer without my daily wisdom. (xxx-xxx-xxxx) Use it wisely.

Within seconds, another notification popped up.

Unknown Number: Now I can finally place my coffee orders in advance.

Unknown Number: Also, I might use it for other things.

You swallowed hard, rereading her message.

Other things.

Yeah. You were so screwed. And maybe just a little bit in love.

──────────────────────

To say you spent the whole night texting Caitlyn would be an understatement. The conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping from topic to topic until you realized it was waaaay past your bed time. She told you about her upcoming track competition, and somewhere in the middle of it, she casually invited you to come cheer her on. (Which, obviously, you accepted before she even finished asking.)

By the time morning rolled around, you were running on fumes—more tired than usual, but weirdly, it didn’t matter. Because today, you weren’t just going to see Caitlyn from behind the coffee counter. You were actually going to talk to her and that alone had your energy levels shooting up to a hundred.

So, naturally, you got extra ready.

You actually took your time in the mirror, making sure you looked good. Not that Caitlyn had ever seen you at your best before (you were always half-dead on your morning shifts), but today was different. Today, you wanted to impress her.

And apparently, it showed.

“Okay, where’s the event?” your coworker asked the second you clocked in, giving you a once-over. “And why do you look nice today?”

“Oh, nothing…” you said, trying to sound casual as you adjusted your apron. “Just, you know… Caitlyn Kiramman not only followed me, stalked my profile, liked a picture from three months ago, but also slid into my DMs… and I gave her my number.”

Your coworker froze.

Then, in the most dramatic way possible, they grabbed your shoulders and shook you. “WHAT?”

You laughed, swatting them away. “I’m serious.”

They gawked at you. “You mean Caitlyn Kiramman—the woman you’ve been hopelessly crushing on for months—the actual goddess who walks in here every morning—is now texting you?”

“Yep.”

“And flirting with you?”

“Seems like it.”

They stared at you for another second before groaning. “Oh my God. I take back everything I said. You’re not pathetic. You’re a legend.”

You smirked, grabbing a cup as you started prepping Caitlyn’s usual drinks. “Glad you finally see it.”

Your coworker sighed dramatically. “You better not mess this up.”

“I have no plans to, thank you very much.”

But then… 7 a.m. hit. And Caitlyn didn’t show up.

7:10. Nothing.

7:30. Still nothing.

Your excitement started to deflate just a little. You glanced at the door between customers, waiting for that familiar navy blue high ponytail to appear, but the minutes kept ticking by, and your carefully prepared drinks were sitting there untouched.

By 7:40, the juice had turned an unsettling shade of green, and the ice in the Americano had completely melted. With a sigh, you had no choice but to dump them out.

Just as you were starting to wonder if maybe last night had been some weird dream, at exactly 7:46, she rushed in.

Cheeks flushed, hair slightly messy, breathing a little heavier—Caitlyn Kiramman looked… flustered.

And God, if that wasn’t the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

The line was long—the morning rush just starting—so she had to wait her turn, and when she finally reached the front, she immediately leaned in, looking at you with something close to guilt.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted out, shaking her head at herself. “I overslept for the first time in my life. Which, by the way, is very unusual for me.”

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a grin. “You? Oversleeping? That is unusual.”

She groaned, covering her face for a second before peeking at you through her fingers. “I know. And I feel terrible. 7 a.m. is our unofficial meeting time, and I—” She stopped mid-sentence, realizing what she just said. Her eyes widened slightly, and she bit her lip.

Your smirk grew. “Oh? Our unofficial meeting time?”

Caitlyn blinked. Then, instead of backtracking, she straightened her posture, tilting her head slightly. “Yes,” she said, completely serious. “Our meeting time. And I broke it. Which means I need to make it up to you somehow.”

You leaned on the counter, amused. “Oh yeah? And how do you plan on doing that?”

She hummed, pretending to think about it before giving you a small smirk. “Well, for starters… I’ll let you pick my drink today.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I don’t think I want the usual,” she said casually, resting her elbows on the counter. “What do you recommend? I want to try something new.”

You stared at her for a second. Caitlyn had been ordering the same thing every morning since the day you met her. Now she was just… trusting you to pick something for her?

“Oh wow,” you said, placing a hand on your chest mockingly. “This is a big responsibility. What if I mess it up?”

She grinned. “Then I guess I’ll just have to punish you.”

You choked on your own saliva.

Caitlyn laughed, absolutely delighted by your reaction. “Relax,” she teased, her voice dropping just a little lower. “I just meant I’d make you remake it if it’s terrible.”

You swallowed hard, regaining whatever composure you had left. “Right. Of course. That’s what you meant.”

She winked. “Obviously.”

──────────────────────

After that, your routine changed.

At exactly 7 a.m., Caitlyn would walk in, looking effortlessly gorgeous, and instead of ordering her usual, she’d lean on the counter and ask, “What’s on the menu today?”

And every morning, you’d surprise her with something new. A different coffee, a new kind of tea, a random experimental drink that sometimes turned out great and sometimes… not so much. (She still drank them, though—grinning at you over the rim of her cup like she secretly enjoyed watching you squirm.)

You spent as much time talking as the morning rush allowed, stealing moments between customers, exchanging teasing glances, and sharing stories that made the mundane mornings feel electric.

And then there were the texts.

At first, they were casual—updates on her day, comments on whatever drink you’d made for her, the occasional complaint about a professor or a late-night craving for coffee. But soon, they became… constant.

Messages during lunch. During her breaks. Late at night when you were both too stubborn to sleep.

You talked about everything.

Her childhood. Your family. Her ridiculous rich-person hobbies (which, yes, included knowing how to shoot, for some bizarre reason). The names of her childhood dogs. The fact that she still slept with a ridiculous amount of pillows.

There were no awkward pauses, no forced conversations. Just endless back-and-forth banter, teasing, and something elselingering between the words that neither of you addressed.

Until one night, when your phone buzzed with a notification:

Cait 💙: So, when are you going to ask me out on a proper date? Or do I have to do everything in this relationship?

You blinked.

Stared.

Read it again.

You: Relationship?

The little typing bubble appeared instantly.

Cait 💙: Oh, my bad. Did you think all this was just friendly customer service?

You gawked at your screen.

Was she serious? Was she just teasing? Was this a test?

You: I mean… technically, I do give excellent customer service.

Cait 💙: Uh-huh. And do you text all your customers at midnight?

You: Only the pretty ones.

You hesitated for half a second before hitting send.

And then, before you could panic about that message, she replied:

Cait 💙: So just me, then.

You: Yeah. Just you.

The typing bubble appeared again.

Then it stopped.

Then it started again.

Your heart was practically in your throat.

Cait 💙: Friday. 8 p.m. I’m picking you up. Wear something cute.

──────────────────────

You could not wait for Friday.

And, apparently, the universe had something against you, because the week felt twice as long as usual.

Every hour dragged. Every class felt like a never-ending lecture. Every shift at work felt excruciatingly slow, even with Caitlyn still dropping by at 7 a.m. sharp, flashing you that smug little smirk like she knew you were impatiently counting down the days.

By Friday afternoon, you had done everything you could possibly do to make time pass faster.

Assignments? Finished.

Room? Spotless.

Laundry? Folded.

At one point, you even considered reorganizing your entire closet just to keep yourself busy. But no matter what you did, 8 p.m. refused to get any closer.

You were convinced that if given a few more hours, you could probably find the cure for cancer before the time for your date actually arrived.

You sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Maybe you needed to redo your hair. Or change outfits. You thought you looked good, but what if the lighting in your room had deceived you?

You rushed to the mirror, checking yourself for the tenth time. You turned to the side, then to the other, scrutinizing every detail.

Your outfit was good. Really good. You had picked something that made you feel confident, something that you knew Caitlyn would like. (Not that you had memorized her favorite colors or anything. That would be insane. Definitely not something you had done.)

Your hair? Also fine. Your face? Fine.

So why the hell did you feel like a mess?

You groaned, flopping onto your back dramatically. “I’m gonna die before 8 p.m.,” you mumbled to no one in particular.

Your phone buzzed.

You launched yourself up, grabbing it instantly.

Cait 💙: Excited?

You bit your lip, debating how to answer. Be cool. Be casual. Don’t let her know you’ve been losing your mind all day.

You: Meh. It’s just a date. Not like I’ve been counting down the minutes or anything.

Cait 💙: You’re terrible at lying.

You scoffed, shaking your head.

You: Am not.

Cait 💙: Mhm. Keep telling yourself that.

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself.

Cait 💙: I’ll be there in 30. Be ready, sweetheart.

Suddenly, your heart was pounding.

Oh. Oh, shit.

This was real.

You were going on a date with Caitlyn tonight.

──────────────────────

Caitlyn picked you up in a sleek, undeniably fancy car. You had no idea what kind it was—cars weren’t exactly your thing—but it looked expensive and smelled like it had never known a day of spilled coffee or fast food wrappers.

But the car was the last thing on your mind.

Because Caitlyn? Caitlyn looked gorgeous.

Her usual high ponytail was gone, replaced with loose waves that framed her face perfectly. She wore a crisp white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to show off her forearms, paired with tailored black slacks and shiny loafers that somehow made her legs look even longer. She was all elegance and confidence—and yet, when she smiled at you, there was still that warmth, that sparkle that made your chest flutter.

“You look… wow,” you said as you slid into the passenger seat, your voice almost caught in your throat.

Caitlyn glanced at you, lips tugging into a knowing smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

You laughed softly, your nerves settling a little as the car pulled smoothly out of your driveway. “Is this where you tell me we’re going somewhere casual and I’m overdressed?”

She grinned. “Nope. I figured we could both use a night out somewhere a little extra.”

“Well, mission accomplished,” you said, glancing over at her again. “You’re dangerously close to making me forget how to form coherent sentences.”

She smirked, eyes still on the road. “That’s the goal.”

You turned to the window, smiling like an idiot, cheeks burning just a little. How was this your life right now?

“How was your day?” Caitlyn asked after a moment, her voice softer now, more intimate—like the initial flirty spark had melted into something quieter and warmer.

You told her about your shift, your overly nosy coworker, and the old lady who insisted that oat milk was a government conspiracy meant to destroy traditional dairy farming. Caitlyn laughed, the sound bubbling out of her so naturally, like she was genuinely enjoying every second with you. And maybe she was.

The conversation flowed effortlessly on the drive to the restaurant—Caitlyn had finally caved and told you where you were going after a little playful prodding—and when you arrived, your jaw nearly hit the floor.

The place was fancy. Not just candlelight-and-linen-napkins fancy, but the kind of fancy where the valet wore white gloves, and the front of the menu didn’t even have prices.

You stepped out of the car slowly, glancing up at the glowing sign and the perfectly manicured entryway. Suddenly, the outfit you had spent hours choosing didn’t feel like quite enough. You smoothed your hands over your clothes and swallowed hard, a flicker of anxiety settling in your chest.

You knew Caitlyn had money. That was never a mystery—everything about her practically whispered old money and prestige. But standing outside this restaurant, with her looking like she’d walked out of a fashion editorial and you feeling like you didn’t quite belong, you couldn’t help the quiet question that crept into your mind:

What does she even see in me?

Caitlyn stepped beside you, noticing the way you hesitated. She gently touched your hand, her fingers brushing yours. “Hey,” she said, catching your eye. “You okay?”

You nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah, just… wasn’t expecting a place like this.”

She tilted her head, her expression softening. “I wanted to take you somewhere special. Not to impress you—just… because I think you deserve something special.”

You blinked at her, your heart doing something traitorous in your chest.

“And for the record,” she added, leaning in just slightly, like she was reading your mind, “you belong exactly here. With me.”

──────────────────────

After that first moment of insecurity, everything fell into place. It didn’t matter that you weren’t used to places like this. It didn’t matter that you felt underdressed or that you had to quietly Google a few words on the menu under the table. None of it mattered, because Caitlyn made you feel welcome—seen. Like you belonged not just at her table, but with her.

She didn’t look at you like you were out of place. She looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. Every smile, every glance, every gentle brush of her hand across yours grounded you. And with her, this fancy restaurant didn’t feel so intimidating anymore—it felt like a memory you’d want to replay a hundred times.

“So,” Caitlyn said, casually sipping her wine, “I have a track competition coming up—I think I told you about it?��

You nodded, already smiling. “Yeah, you mentioned it.”

“Well, I’d really like you to come,” she said, her voice a little more tentative, like the invitation mattered more than she wanted to admit.

“Oh, I’ll definitely be there,” you grinned. “Front row. With a giant glittery sign that says ‘#1 Caitlyn Fan.’ Maybe I’ll even wear a matching tracksuit.”

She laughed, leaning back in her seat. “Please do. I want pictures.”

“Careful what you wish for,” you teased. “I’m not above going full cheerleader mode.”

She raised an eyebrow, a playful spark in her eyes. “Now that’s something I need to see.”

You leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on the table and tilting your head. “Oh yeah? You fantasize about me in a crop top and pom-poms, Kiramman?”

Caitlyn didn’t miss a beat. “Only every night.”

You nearly choked on your drink, laughter spilling from your lips as she smirked. “You’re dangerous.”

“I’ve been told,” she replied, her voice dropping just enough to make your heart skip. “But you seem brave.”

You stared at her, all trace of joking fading for a beat. Warmth settled in your chest, creeping up your neck. She was looking at you in that way again—the kind that made everything else disappear.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you whispered before your brain could stop your mouth.

Caitlyn’s smile softened. “So are you,” she said, her voice low and honest.

The air between the two of you shifted instantly, thick with something unspoken. Your heart thudded in your chest as warmth crept up your neck, your cheeks flushed—you didn’t know if it was the wine or just the effect of being near Caitlyn.

Then you felt it—her foot slowly sliding up your leg under the table, smooth and deliberate, and your breath caught in your throat. You practically melted in your seat, your fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table for composure.

Caitlyn was still watching you, eyes darker now, pupils slightly dilated. There was something unreadable in her gaze, something electric.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked, her voice no louder than a whisper, but heavy with suggestion.

You swallowed hard, pulse pounding, every nerve ending alive. “Yes,” you breathed. “God, yes.”

She didn’t smile this time—not in the usual teasing way—but there was a curve to her lips that told you she’d been waiting for that answer.

The ride back to her place was quiet but charged, your fingers brushing on the gearshift, the tension between you stretching tighter with every passing second. The moment her door closed behind the two of you, it snapped.

She stepped forward, cupped your face with both hands, and kissed you like she’d been holding back all night. There was nothing hesitant now—just heat and hands and the thrum of something real blooming between you.

When you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, her forehead rested against yours again.

“Still think you don’t belong in my world?” she whispered, her thumb brushing across your lips.

You shook your head, smiling against her touch. “I think I might be exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

──────────────────────

masterlist

#caitlyn x you #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #lily writes

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hyunebunx · 7 months ago

Note

💓 with felix omg can you imagine how adorable

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💓- 'a trail of kisses along the partner's jawline or collarbone'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff!!

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. pairing: felix x gn!reader

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: teriii this took me forever i'm sorry 😔 i just realised the reason i'm so slow with requests is bc i'm unable to write anything if i don't make the characters head over heels in love with each other. anywayss, i hope you like it 🩷🫶🏻

“Love.” He calls out lowly, nuzzling your neck affectionately while your fingers comb through blond locks, massaging his scalp. Felix has pretty much melted into your arms, eyes barely open and not focused on the movie he insisted on watching together for the past week, missing the whole plot. “Look at me.”

“Lix, baby, my darling sunshine.” You giggle, eyes still trained on the tv screen, which has him groaning in protest. “I’m watching the movie. The one you’ve been babbling about for weeks. Why aren’t you?”

He mumbles something against your skin, too quiet for you to hear. “What was that?”

“I said, I’m bored.” He lets out a dramatic sigh, raising his head to look you in the eyes, everything in you softening once those plump lips jut out in a slight pout.

Movie all forgotten, you reach to push the hair out of his face, tenderly tucking the loose strands behind his ears to which Felix leans into your touch like a man starved of affection for weeks on end. Your thumb then moves to wipe off a small food stain near his lips, some chocolate that didn’t reach its destination and decide to hang onto your boyfriend’s gorgeous face for a while longer, also mesmerised by his beauty.

“Should we watch something else, then?” You inquire, spreading your arms to welcome him back into your embrace. Felix doesn’t even bother to answer before diving in, taking his rightful place into the crock of your neck with a soft, relieved sigh.

A moment later, he shakes his head, strong hands kneading your waist and pushing you further into the couch, all of his body needing to be touching yours in some capacity. “It’s almost over anyway.”

His lips then find their way to your jawline, peppering feather like kisses along the surface in a true, cuddlebug fashion. Your smile widens, the hand that’s not in his hair coming to lay on his back and caress the covered skin in a comforting manner as Felix lets most of his weight rest on you.

“What do you want to want to do after?” His kisses barely let you finish, pillowy lips trailing down to your neck which causes you to giggle, their gentleness tickling. Asking might prove redundant because Felix only gets this affectionate when he’s tired, your shared bed calling his name in the sweetest voice only he can hear.

You reach for the remote to turn the tv down, losing all interest in the movie as Felix ponders the question, placing a sweet kiss behind your ear that has a shiver running down your spine. Sitting up, he releases your waist to hold both of your hands, interlacing your fingers to bring them up to his lips more easily.

His answer is surprising. “Talk.”

“About?” You raise an eyebrow, not bothering to sit up as exhaustion seems to rest right on your bones.

As expected, it doesn’t take Felix long to return to your side, hovering over you and delicately pinning one of your hands right next to your head on a comfy cushion. “You.” He nods, smiling widely when you move just a tad bit to rub your nose against his, chuckling.

“What else do you want to know?” Your free hand moves to his nape, caressing the skin there which always gives Felix goosebumps. “My life isn’t as exciting as yours, I don’t have that many interesting stories to tell.”

Felix disagrees, dropping down to leave another trail of delicate kisses along your collarbones, cheekily hooking a finger under your shirt’s collar to expose even more skin. “Everything. I want to know everything about you.”

Your heart skips several beats, all possible responses dying on your tongue as they witness how much this man loves and cares about you. To be known is to be loved, and Felix wanted to make sure he knew everything before attempting to love you properly, exactly how you deserved to be loved for the rest of your life. A life he hoped and prayed you’d share with him.

His voice is low, barely above a whisper as he confesses his profound feelings. “I want every single detail about you to be engraved on my mind, and heart for as long as I live, to make sure I never forget a minute out of all the time we’ve spent together.”

“I want to recognize you from people’s stories, to work out exactly why you chose one thing over the other. I already recognize your footsteps as you walk down the hall to visit me at work – and the sound has me grinning like a fucking idiot.” He exhales, resting his forehead just above your frantically beating heart. “Can you imagine how happy knowing everything else about you would make me feel? I think I might burst.”

No, you couldn’t, because you could never wrap your head around being loved so genuinely and openly. Being loved for the real you, with the good, the bad and the ugly parts you have never shown anyone.

But Felix, as persistent as he was, will only stop once he can prove you wrong and make it a reality.

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shaiyasstuff · 16 days ago

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hellow^^ idk how this request thingy works but i’d like to ask for the fluffiest cutest fluff of how the lads men will react to mc being a bit bold(??) like trying to hold hands with them something like that, considering that mc is a shy person? sorry for this😭😭 this has been bugging me for like a week now and i just want to satiate this need of mine hehehwhahsgsg

also, it’s actually me being shy to my bf even after a year of dating and i still get shy with holding hands and everything with him😭😭 i love caleb A LOT😔😔🫰🏻 sorry again, tmi i guess😭😭😭

omg i would love love LOVE to write this for you! sksks that is so cute?? i’m actually quite the extrovert myself so seeing really shy people sometimes baffles me XD i decided to write this in a more comedic tone because i find that it really starts getting you giggly sksksk tell me if you don’t like it though🥹

here is your request written beloww (unfortunately i do not write for caleb at the moment, forgive me? :<)

Had this request since forever, i’m sorry it took so long :p

Rafayel

You didn’t mean to do it.

It just kind of… happened.

One minute, you were staring at your laptop screen, chewing your thumbnail like it owed you money, and the next minute your pinky was just… there.

Sitting next to his. Touching. Breathing the same air.

You immediately wanted to die.

Abort. Abort. Emergency.

But Rafayel had already noticed. Of course he had. Because the universe was cruel and Rafayel was worse.

“…Y/N,” he said, slowly. Like you were a wild animal. Like he was trying not to scare you off. “Are you… are you trying to hold my hand right now?”

“No,” you said immediately.

“But your finger—”

“It slipped.”

“Your entire hand is slipping.”

“I’m testing gravity.”

He blinked at you. Then blinked again. Then full-body collapsed onto the floor like his soul had been forcibly ejected.

“I’m gonna die,” he announced from the floorboards. “This is it. I’ve seen heaven and it’s pinky-first hand-holding.”

You covered your face. “Please shut up before I actually ascend out of shame.”

He peeked up at you with the gentlest smile you’d ever seen him make. It made your stomach somersault like a traumatized gymnast.

“I’m not making fun of you,” he said softly. “I’m just—really happy you touched me first. Even if you did it like you were defusing a bomb.”

You didn’t reply. You were too busy malfunctioning

Zayne

It took you an hour to decide.

You stared at his hand on the armrest like it was a medieval relic. He wasn’t even paying attention.

Just watching a video, arms crossed, frown in place. Classic.

You, on the other hand, were over here doing breathing exercises like you were prepping for a hostage negotiation.

Okay.

You could do this.

You very, very slowly reached out. Your fingers hovered above his like a crane game, shaking slightly. You were sweating. This was fine.

And then—just barely—you touched the side of his hand.

He flinched like you’d tazed him.

You yanked your hand back like you’d been caught trying to steal government secrets. “S-sorry—I—I didn’t mean—!”

He turned his head so fast you thought you heard a vertebrae crack.

“You were trying to hold my hand.”

“No! I mean yes—I mean not in a weird way—I just—” You were halfway to curling into yourself like a shy little bug.

Zayne stared. His ears red.

Then—slowly, rigidly—he reached over and took your hand. Very carefully. Like it was made of glass and explosives.

“…Next time,” he muttered, still looking straight ahead, “just do it.”

You nodded, eyes wide.

“Don’t make that face,” he added, glancing at you. “I didn’t hate it.”

Your heart did a full backflip into a vat of molten embarrassment.

“…I’m gonna go scream into a pillow,” you whispered.

“Do it later. I’m not letting go.”

Sylus

It was fine.

Everything was fine.

You were just sitting next to Sylus on a rooftop. Casual. Chill.

No thoughts. No anxiety.

Definitely not staring at his hand resting by his thigh like it was the holy grail.

Nope. Not you.

You were normal. Totally not planning an emotional ambush. Not at all.

You were. Obviously.

You scooted an inch closer. Then another.

Then—half an inch, just for good measure.

Your pinky hovered next to his like a drone on low battery.

Your heart was sprinting.

Your soul had already left the building.

Just do it. Just hold his hand. It’s not illegal. You won’t die.

You might die. But in a cute way.

You reached out.

Your fingers brushed his hand.

Then you froze.

Like a raccoon caught in the headlights. Staring. Horrified.

Sylus glanced down immediately. Then up.

You felt his eyes on your face like a heat sensor. You could feel him trying to process it.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and so casual it made it worse.

You made a noise that sounded like a cross between a squeak and a power outage.

Sylus blinked. Slowly. Dangerously.

“…Were you trying to hold my hand?”

You instantly pulled your hand back like it had betrayed national security. “N-no—I mean—I was just stretching—like—finger yoga—”

“Finger yoga,” he repeated, deadpan.

You nodded, face burning. Your entire nervous system was filing for divorce.

He didn’t speak for a second. Just watched you. Unreadable. Then—

“Come here.”

Your soul ascended.

But before you could combust entirely, he reached over and—gently, deliberately—took your hand in his.

Fingers cool, firm. Careful. His palm fitting against yours like it was meant to be there.

You short-circuited. Fully.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you,” he said, voice low and just a little amused. “Didn’t want to scare you off.”

You stared at your hands. Then at the skyline. Then back to your hands.

You were never speaking again.

“…You’re still shaking,” he murmured, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“I—I’m fine,” you managed. Barely.

“You’re adorable.”

You died. Right there. On that rooftop.

Sylus just smiled to himself and didn’t let go.

Xavier

You had rehearsed it in your head.

Five times. Okay, fifteen. Whatever. You had a plan.

You were going to accidentally reach for the popcorn bowl on the same side he was sitting, and your hand would maybe land near his. Just near.

Not even touching.

Just close enough to give yourself a heart attack.

So, of course, what actually happened was this:

You reached for the bowl.

You missed.

You smacked his hand.

And then. You panicked and just grabbed it.

Full-on, uncoordinated finger spaghetti.

“Oh,” Xavier said.

You didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

Words had abandoned you. Your mouth made a sound somewhere between a squeak and a dying phone battery.

His thumb brushed against your knuckles. Slowly. Deliberately.

“You’re trembling,” he said, voice low, warm.

You wished for the sweet release of spontaneous combustion.

“I—I didn’t—s-sorry—I wasn’t—I was just—snack—popcorn—”

“You’re adorable,” he said gently.

You made a noise. It wasn’t human.

“I mean it,” he added, quietly, like he was afraid to scare you off. “It means a lot. That you tried.”

You didn’t answer.

You just nodded and looked at the wall like it had personally challenged you to a duel.

#lads #lads x reader #love and deepspace #lnds x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lnds #l&ds x reader #lads zayne #lads sylus #zayne love and deepspace #lads rafayel x reader #lads rafayel #lads xavier x reader #lads xavier #rafayel love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace

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mafiadad5 · 9 days ago

Text

No Strings attached || P.Jisung (PART 1)

˖ ࣪⊹🎸 Rockstar!Jisung x fem!reader (ft. crush!haechan) || PART 2- read here

˖ ࣪⊹🎸synopsis- Everyone's been raving about Black Horizon, and now they're in town for a concert. You never paid them any mind— didn't even know who they were, that was until you discovered that their lead guitarist is your long lost childhood best friend. You're finally reunited, but at what cost?

˖ ࣪⊹🎸genre/warnings- friends with benefits, porn with plot MDNI!, angst, fluff, multiple smut scenes, unprotected sex (don’t do.) oral (m.& f.receiving), fingering, car sex, sex under the influence of alcohol, jealousy, smoking, cursing.

˖ ࣪⊹🎸 w/c- 17.6k

Playlist- Come through and Chill- Miguel, Mascara- Deftones, Fill the Void- Lily Rose Depp, What you need- The Weeknd, Belong To You- Sabrina Claudio, Fallingforyou- The 1975.

a/n- omg omg took me forever. I really wanted to make it one part, but tumblr messed up, so two part series! I really hope u enjoy this and feel the rollercoaster like I did while writing. Love u mwah💋!

══════════════════════════

January 15th.

It started like any other night. You standing in front of your mirror, adjusting the tight ponytail. The soft hum of the fan filled the quiet room as you smoothed your hands over your uniform, ensuring everything was in place before grabbing your bag. Another long, late shift at the bar awaited you. The tips were good, but the exhaustion was there before you had even clocked in.

Setting your things down in the employee locker area, you barely had a moment to breathe before a familiar voice called out behind you.

"Hey Y/n."

You turned, instantly recognizing the warm tone, and found yourself meeting Haechan's eyes.

"Hey Haechan." You smiled instinctively, as if it was second nature.

He leaned against the doorway, his usual effortless charm on full display. His dark hair was slightly messy, his lips in that easygoing grin that always seemed to linger when he was around you.

"Thank you again for covering my shift tomorrow." He said with sincerity in his voice. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Yeah, no problem." You waved him off, though you couldn't help but appreciate the gratitude. "Anything to rake in some extra money."

His eyes lit up in understanding. "For your cafe, right?"

"Of course." You responded without hesitation.

The cafe had been your dream for as long as you could remember. Every extra shift, every tip jar stuffed with crumpled bills, it all went toward making that dream a reality.

Haechan smiled. "I would wish you good luck, but you don't need it. I know you can do it."

For a moment, you forgot to breathe. It always felt like he saw something in you that even you doubted sometimes.

"Aw, thanks Haechan." Your smile grew, warmth blooming in your chest.

Silence stretched between you for a minute too long, the kind of quiet that felt loaded. His eyes held yours, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.

Clearing your throat, you broke the moment. "Well... um, you should get going. To make sure you're ready for your date tomorrow."

His reaction was instant, an awkward giggle as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh yeah. It's not a date though, just going to a concert with my best friend."

"Your hangout." You corrected."Who are you going to see?" You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

"A band called Black Horizon."

You tilted your head. "Never heard of them."

Haechan smirked. "Yeah, that's typical. They're a relatively new band, but they're gaining a lot of popularity. You should check them out."

"I will." You nodded, making a mental note to look them up later.

He hesitated for a second, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You could feel it again, that silence that felt loaded, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

"Yeah, I'll see you later." He gave you one last smile before turning to leave.

You watched him go, exhaling softly once he was out of sight.

Haechan had been your coworker for 2 years. He was cute, kind, considerate— everything you wanted in a guy, but no matter how many moments like this passed between you, neither of you ever crossed that line. He didn't make a move, and you never dared to either.

With a deep breath, you pushed those thoughts aside and stepped onto the floor, slipping behind the bar. The night was just beginning.

The bar was buzzing per usual. It never really bothered you—if anything, the flow of customers made the hours slip by faster. There were moments like now though, when the chaos pressed in a little too much.

You turned your back to the crowd, facing the liquor shelf restocking bottles. In reality, you just needed a second. A second to breathe, to let the ache in your feet settle before another round of drink orders came in. The bar was packed tonight, but for once no one was calling your name. At least, not yet.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

You closed your eyes briefly, inhaling deeply. So much for a break.

"Give me a second, sir." You replied, turning around. Your breath caught in your throat. The face in front of you familiar, yet changed.

Your heart stuttered, then pounded. It had to have been, what, six years? Six years since you'd last seen him. Six years of brief thoughts about him, wondering where he was now. You had figured he was off chasing his dreams, too busy to look back, too far removed from your life to ever cross paths with you again.

And yet, here he was.

He blinked, his own surprise mirroring yours. His lips parted slightly, as if trying to confirm you weren't just some trick of the dim bar lighting.

"Y/n?!" His voice was filled with disbelief, his body instinctively leaning closer across the counter.

"Jisung?" You set the cocktail shaker down, barely aware of it leaving your hands.

He let out a breath, shaking his head with a disbelieving laugh. "What a fucking coincidence. I was just thinking about you."

"You were?" Your brows lifted slightly.

"Yeah, totally. I just landed back here after forever. How could my mind not wander to my closest friend growing up?" He grinned, though there was something unreadable in his expression.

You exhaled a small laugh, the weight of the moment pressing against your chest. "That's sweet." You forced yourself to slip back into professionalism, wiping your hands on a bar rag. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Shit—sorry, vodka lemonade please." He settled fully onto the barstool now, elbows resting on the cold counter. "How have you been?"

"I've been good. Just working, saving up." You started mixing his drink, pouring the vodka over ice. "What about you?"

"Life's been good to me lately." He admitted, a lightheartedness in his tone, but his eyes searched yours like he wasn't sure what to say next.

"That's amazing." You smiled, genuinely happy for him. "What brings you back here? I thought you moved away a few years ago and didn't look back."

Jisung chuckled, rubbing his jaw. "Yeah, I did, but I have a concert tomorrow."

You quirked an eyebrow. "Wait hold on. Is it for that Black Horizon group?"

His lips curled into a small grin. "Yep."

You groaned dramatically. "Why does everyone like this band except me?" You slid his drink across the counter.

"Ouch." He gasped, placing a hand over his chest in offense.

"I'm serious!" You laughed. "I've never heard of them, but somehow everyone else has. Even my coworker is going to the concert tomorrow."

Jisung tilted his head, eyes glinting. "You should come. Just to check it out. I bet you'd like it."

You hesitated, shaking your head slightly. "I would, but I have work. Besides, I don't have a ticket."

His response came instantly, a little too eager. "I can get you in—for free."

Your lips twitched into an amused smirk. "Are you trying to sneak me in? I didn't take you for a criminal Jisung."

He laughed, holding his hands up in innocence. "No illegal activity here."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Or do you work with the band or something?"

He hummed nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink. "Something like that."

Your brows furrowed. "Wait, do you seriously work with the artist? That's sick."

His grin widened. "Yeah, the lead guitarist actually."

Your stomach dropped slightly. The realization hitting you.

"Jisung... you're part of the band?"

He gave you a sheepish smile. "Surprise!"

Your eyes widened. "Are you serious?! That's insane. Is that why you left, to become part of a huge band?"

The excitement was evident in your voice, but as soon as you spoke, something in his expression shifted. His eyes darkened slightly, his playful smirk fading just a little.

"Okay, but let's not forget you left first." He pointed out, his tone a mix of teasing and something else.

Your stomach twisted.

"Jisung—"

"No, I'm serious. I'm still salty about that by the way." He finished off his drink in one last swig, setting the empty glass down with a soft clink.

You sighed, gripping the counter. "Look, it's not my fault my mom withdrew me junior year and cut contact with everyone. I didn't have a choice." Your voice softened, but there was a weight behind your words. "And let's not forget, you were the one who said you never wanted to talk to me again. So if anything, I guess I'm salty too."

Jisung exhaled, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then he cracked a small, lopsided grin.

"Whatever."

He reached into his wallet, pulling out a twenty dollar bill and sliding it toward you.

"Let's make it up to each other." He said. "Come to the concert."

"I would, but I seriously have to work tomorrow. I'm covering someone's shift, so I can't back out. Sorry." You said, lips falling into a small frown.

Jisung nodded, though there was something unreadable in his gaze. "It's okay." He pushed the twenty closer to you, tapping his fingers against the counter.

"It was nice seeing you Y/n." His voice was quieter this time.

Before you could say anything else, he stood up, slipping away into the crowd.

Six years.

And just like that, he was gone again.

You tried to push the interaction with Jisung out of your mind.

Tried.

Even so, you focused on your work, keeping busy until your boss finally gave you the okay to step out for a break. You didn't hesitate. The moment you were free, you slipped outside, inhaling the cold night air as if it could wash away the weight of anything.

You leaned against the rough brick wall of the building, closing your eyes for a moment, letting yourself just be. Until a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

"You're off work?"

Your eyes snapped open, turning instinctively toward the sound. Jisung stood a few feet away, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, his expression unreadable under the dim glow of the streetlights.

Your heart jumped just a little. You hadn't expected to see him again so soon.

"Did you follow me out here?" You asked, a smirk tugging at your lips.

He grinned, rocking on his heels. "Maybe."

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. "A musician and a stalker. How many more surprises are you gonna hit me with?"

"I never changed." He shrugged.

His words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been. Jisung pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket, flipping it open with ease.

He tapped one out, sliding it between his lips before angling the box toward you. You glanced at it, then back at him, shaking your head.

"I quit."

Jisung's eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn't question it. Instead, he closed the pack and tucked it away.

"And you never changed, huh?" You teased, watching as he pulled a lighter from his pocket.

He rolled his eyes with a quiet chuckle, flicking the lighter open. The small flame illuminated his face for half a second before he lit the cigarette, inhaling deeply. Smoke drifted into the night air as he exhaled slowly, his gaze momentarily drifting before settling on you again.

"You know those things aren't good for you, right?" You said, crossing your arms. "Your words, not mine."

Jisung paused mid drag, giving you a pointed look before blowing the smoke out to the side.

"My words years ago." He corrected. "When you were sneaking around smoking at sixteen."

You scoffed. "Oh whatever. I was young and dumb. What's your excuse now?"

He hummed, rolling his cigarette between his fingers as he considered his answer. "I guess I have none." Another slow inhale... another exhale. "But shit changes."

You eyed him carefully. "That sounds like an excuse."

Jisung smirked. "I don't know, being young and dumb sounds like an excuse too."

"Is there a problem or something?" You asked, tilting your head slightly. "Why did you follow me out here?"

Jisung held your gaze for a second longer before flicking his cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with the heel of his shoe.

"I just wanted to talk, catch up a little." His voice was softer now, more serious. "Is there a problem or something?"

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "No, but I'm at work. So if you'll excuse me." You started, moving to step past him.

"You should come to my hotel room after the concert." The words tumbled out quickly, like he hadn't meant to say them.

Slowly, you turned back around, raising an eyebrow. "Why?" You tried to sound indifferent, but curiosity was evident in your voice.

Jisung ran a hand through his hair, exhaling before meeting your eyes again. "Just to catch up."

"My mother taught me not to go places with strangers." You teased, a smirk on your lips.

"Oh, so I'm a stranger now?" He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly.

You didn't answer, just turned away with a small smile, but then his voice cut through the air, lower, almost hesitant.

"I missed you, I can't lie."

You stopped in your tracks as you turned back, eyes narrowing just slightly. "Missed?" You echoed, your tone teasing, but your curiosity genuine.

His gaze met yours, steady now, but serious in a way that made your heart skip.

"Just come."

You hesitated for a moment, searching his face. Then you smirked slightly, turning to walk away. "My number's the same."

Jisung stayed where he was, watching as you disappeared back inside. For the first time in a long time, he smiled—really smiled. Because whether you realized it or not, that was as good as a yes.

══════════════════════════ You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your ponytail like always. Same uniform, same shift, but something felt off.

Jisung never texted you.

Not a single message, not even a half hearted excuse, just silence.

You told yourself it didn't matter. That after everything—the history, the falling out, you shouldn't have expected anything, but the truth was it did bother you. Not because you were still upset about the past, but because you hated when people made plans and didn't follow through.

So why was there this unsettling feeling in your stomach? Was it disappointment? Annoyance? Maybe a mix of both. Whatever it was, you pushed it down and focused on work, pouring drinks, flashing polite smiles, letting the hours slip by. When your boss finally gave you the okay for a break, you stepped outside, inhaling the crisp night air, trying to clear your mind.

Then, your phone buzzed. Your brows furrowed as you pulled it out of your pocket, eyes flickering to the screen.

Unknown Number

You hesitated before opening the message.

An address. A hotel.

Your mind immediately went to Jisung. You had spent all night forcing yourself to forget, convincing yourself he already had, but he hadn't. He actually remembered. A slow smile tugged at your lips as you locked your phone, stuffing it back into your pocket.

When you finally clocked out, you were exhausted. You looked at your phone. 12:03 a.m. It was late, too late really. The rational part of you told you to go home, take a shower, and go to bed, but before you could make a decision, your phone buzzed again.

Jisung [12:04 AM]: "Are you still coming?"

You hesitated, fingers hovering over your keyboard. You should say no. You should tell him you were tired, that it was late, that catching up at this time was ridiculous.

You started to type out a polite excuse, but then for some reason you erased it.

You [12:06 AM]: "Maybe."

He read it instantly.

Jisung [12:07 AM]: "Well, I'm maybe waiting for you. And I'll maybe wait all night if I have to."

There was something about his answer that made it hard to ignore the curiosity in your chest. Why now? Why did he suddenly want to see you so badly? There was only one way to find out.

And that's how you found yourself standing in front of his hotel room door.

You hesitated for a moment, raising your hand before knocking lightly.

Seconds passed.

Then a full minute.

Just as you were about to turn and leave, the door swung open.

Jisung stood in the doorway, dark hair damp, skin slightly flushed, the faint scent of body wash lingering in the air. His t-shirt clung to his frame.

"Oh, hey." His lips curled into a small smirk. "You came."

You tilted your head slightly, crossing your arms. "Maybe."

"Maybe." Jisung huffed a small laugh, stepping aside to let you in.

You walked in, glancing around. The room was simple but elegant, a neatly made bed, a small couch, and a coffee table. But what caught your attention was the massive floor to ceiling window that showed the breathtaking view of the city skyline.

"Nice view." You murmured.

"Yeah, it is."

You turned, only to catch Jisung watching you instead of the city. Clearing your throat you moved toward the couch, sitting down as he walked to the mini fridge.

"Is it okay if we drink?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Yeah, for sure." You replied.

He grabbed a bottle and two glasses, joining you on the couch. The way he moved was effortless, but there was something about the way his fingers lingered as he poured the drinks, something in the way his eyes flickered up at you as he handed you your glass. You clinked your glass against his before throwing back the shot, the liquor burning slowly down your throat.

"So." You started, setting your glass down. "How was the concert?"

Jisung exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. "It was good. Feels crazy seeing that many people singing along to our songs."

"Must be a wild feeling."

"It is." He leaned back, resting an arm along the back of the couch. "A few years ago, I was just some kid messing around on his guitar. Now, I'm on stage in front of thousands."

You smiled. "That's amazing, Ji. I'm happy for you."

He smirked pouring another round, sliding your glass toward you.

"What about you?" He asked. "What have you been up to?"

You hesitated, then shrugged. "Just working, nothing as exciting as you."

He tilted his head, eyes studying you. "I don't believe that."

"I promise you, my life is pretty boring."

"Doubt it." He murmured, taking another sip.

Silence stretched between you for a moment, like you both didn't know what to say next.

Then Jisung sighed, swirling the liquid in his glass. "You know... I was pissed when you left."

Your entire body stiffened.

"I don't wanna talk about that."

He studied you, expression unreadable. "Y/n—"

"I mean it, let's not do this."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't let it go. "You disappeared— no calls, no messages. I didn't even know where you went."

You exhaled sharply, gripping your glass. "I didn't have a choice."

"You could've at least—"

"Jisung, stop." Your tone was firm, eyes locking onto his.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then slowly he leaned in, a smirk on his lips.

"Then make it up to me."

Your breath hitched slightly. "What?"

"You heard me." His voice was lower now, gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. "Make it up to me."

Something shifted in the air as the space between you shrank. The hum of the city outside faded into nothing, the only thing you could hear was the distant sound of traffic and the quiet rhythm of your own heartbeat.

You didn't know if it was the alcohol that had you both like this. Yes, you two kissed a few times in the past for fun, but that was when you were teenagers, and... closer. You didn't know what was happening now, but you didn't mind it.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" You questioned, even though you knew the answer. Your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flickered to his parted lips before meeting his eyes again.

"You know how." He responded, his hand landing on your knee.

"Maybe, but I want to hear you say it." You responded, lips ghosting over his.

"I don't know." He said, his eyes darkly looking into yours. "I feel like if I kiss you, I won't be able to stop." His hand cupped the side of your face, the distance between you begging to be closed.

"Then don't." You replied.

The second the words left your mouth, he was on you, lips crashing into yours like he couldn't hold back another second. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you against him as his tongue slid into your mouth, deepening the kiss until you forgot how to breathe, forgot everything but the way he tasted and how he made you feel.

You climbed on top of him without thinking, straddling his lap as his hands immediately found your hips, gripping you tightly. The kiss grew rougher, more intense—his mouth moving against yours with need, your bodies pressed together.

He broke the kiss, breath heavy against your skin, and trailed rough open mouthed kisses down your neck. Each one sent a jolt through you, making you squirm in his lap. You couldn't help pressing against him, grinding just enough to feel how hard he was beneath you.

His hands moved you against him, slow at first, then harder. You leaned into him, arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers threading into his hair gripping tightly.

He leaned back in, kissing you again messily like he couldn't get enough. His hands slid up from your hips to your waist, grabbing at you like he needed to feel every inch, one hand slowly slipping lower. The kiss didn't slow down—if anything, it got rougher, more intense.

"We shouldn't be doing this." You muttered, pulling back just enough to breathe, lips brushing his as you spoke. He looked up at you, lips swollen and plump, eyes half lidded. You knew you should stop, but the way he was looking at you made it really hard to remember why.

"Tell me to stop then." He whispered, his lips barely brushing against yours.

You paused, trying to gather your thoughts.

"Exactly." He murmured with a lazy grin before you could respond, pulling you back into a messy kiss, this time his hand slipping under your pants, sliding past your underwear.

His fingers teased your folds, moving in slow circles before slipping one finger past your entrance. You broke the kiss, a breathless sigh escaping as he moved inside, your body instinctively responding to the sensation.

"Fuck, so wet for me." He murmured against your lips, his voice rough. He pulled you back into another kiss, deep and heated, his fingers working you slowly as his other hand slid up to grip your waist keeping you pressed against him.

His finger teased at your entrance before finally slipping inside, making you break the kiss with a soft moan. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, watching every reaction as his finger started to pump in and out slowly.

You tilted your head to rest on his shoulder, unable to keep the soft moans from escaping as he moved inside you, each stroke sending a rush of warmth through your body. His touch was torturously slow, drawing out every sensation until you were lost in the feeling of him.

"Feels good?" He mumbled quietly, his finger curling deeper inside you, making a soft whimper slip from your lips.

"Answer me." He pressed, his other hand gripping you tighter.

"Mhm." You managed to get out, breathless.

"What, you can't speak now?" He teased, his voice low. "Does it feel good? Yes or no?"

"Yes." You whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as your body reacted to every move, every breath.

"Oh yeah?" He teased, a sly grin forming on his lips.

He pushed another finger inside, stretching you open with the pressure of his large digits, making you shiver at the feel.

"Oh my god." You moaned, your grip on his hair tightening as his fingers moved quickly inside you. The sound of your arousal grew louder, each thrust of his fingers driving you closer to the edge.

"Fuck, I'm gonna—" You gasped, the words barely making it past your lips as your head dropped to his shoulder. Your body trembled, overwhelmed by the heat coiling tighter and tighter inside you. He didn't slow down, if anything his fingers drove harder, hitting that spot again and again until you were clenching around him. Your breath hitched, your nails digging into his skin as you reached the edge.

"Let's go to the bed." He whispered, his voice low and rough against your ear as you tried to catch your breath. You nodded, still dazed, your body soft in his arms. Without hesitation he lifted you, your arms draped around his shoulders, fingers brushing against the nape of his neck as he carried you.

He laid you down, eyes dark as he climbed over you, pulling you into another deep messy kiss. His hands moved fast, stripping your pants and underwear, tossed aside without a second thought. He broke the kiss just long enough to undress himself as he watched you, chest rising and falling.

"Are you sure?" He asked, voice low and breathless, his eyes half lidded but locked onto yours.

You nodded, a soft "Mhm" leaving your lips, your body already aching for him.

He kissed you again, slower this time, then he pushed in, stretching you inch by inch. Your breath stuttered, nails dragging down his back as your bodies met, heat curling through every inch of you.

"Fuck, you feel so good." He breathed, voice rough as he sank all the way in. He stayed there for a moment, chest rising and falling just watching you, letting you adjust, letting the feeling of you wrapped around him settle deep. His hands gripped your thighs, thumbs brushing your skin, the heat between your bodies unbearable.

"Tell me when." He murmured, barely holding back, eyes flicking over every inch of you.

"Move." You muttered, barely able to get the word out.

He didn't hesitate. His hips pulled back, then rolled forward again, slow at first. A low groan came from his lips as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust dragging a soft sound from your lips. His hands gripped your waist holding you close, eyes locked on where your bodies met.

"Faster." You whimpered, voice barely above a breath.

His eyes darkened, and he gave you exactly what you asked for. His hips snapped forward with more urgency, each thrust deeper, harder, the sound of your skin meeting filling the room. He moaned softly, his own pleasure spilling out in breathy sounds as he watched you, eyes fluttering, lips parted, taking him so perfectly it nearly drove him insane.

"Fuck." He groaned, one hand sliding up to grip your waist tighter, the other landing beside your head as he drove into you, lost in the way your body pulled him in, begged for more.

He started to move faster, hips snapping against yours with more urgency. He couldn't help himself, your warmth, the way you wrapped around him, the sounds you made, it was too much. His moans grew louder, more desperate, as his rhythm changed just slightly overwhelmed by how good you felt.

His teeth grazed his bottom lip, catching it for a second before letting it slip free, lips parted, breath fast and uneven. His eyes locked on yours, heavy with lust.

"Fuck... I'm close." He said in a low whimper.

Every muscle in his body tightened, chasing that edge as he started to unravel inside you.

"I'm almost there." You whimpered, your voice trembling as your hooded eyes met his for a second before fluttering shut. Your head dropped back against the mattress, fingers gripping the covers beneath you.

He let out a low shaky breath, pulling one hand from your waist and dragging it slowly up your body. He found your hands, lacing his fingers through yours, holding them tightly.

The change in angle had him thrusting even deeper, hitting that spot again, your whole body jolting with pleasure. His grip on your hands tightened, hips chasing your release like it was the only thing that mattered.

Your legs began to shake, trembling uncontrollably as you clenched around him. The sounds falling from your lips grew louder, broken and breathless mixing with the wet slap of his hips against yours. A ring of your arousal coated the base of him, the sight alone pushing him right to the edge.

"Fuck." He gasped, voice catching in a choked whimper as he fell apart, thrusts growing rougher, messier, desperate. He pulled his hands from yours, fumbling to yank your shirt up, needing to see you—needing to finish.

With a few last messy thrusts, he pulled out, hand wrapping around himself. His jaw clenched as he let out a shaky groan, coming across your stomach, his body shuddering as he spilled every last drop.

He collapsed beside you, chest rising and falling rapidly, body still trembling. His fingers gently traced the curve of your waist. His eyes softened as they met yours, a breathless smile appearing at the corners of his lips.

"Are you okay?" He murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. He didn't need to ask, not really, but he wanted to make sure you felt as safe and cared for as he felt in that moment.

You nodded, your own breath finally starting to steady, fingers running over his chest. The quiet of the room felt like everything had slowed, each moment stretching out just enough for you both to catch up with each other.

5:00 AM

Your eyes fluttered open. The sheets were warm, tangled around your legs, and for a brief second you didn't remember where you were. Well, not until you looked beside you.

Jisung. Fast asleep.

You sat up quickly, rubbing the blur from your eyes, heart pounding just a little too fast. You never woke up this early—not naturally at least. Maybe it was your body's way of reminding you that you weren't supposed to be here, that this was real, that it happened.

Lying next to him had felt natural, like second nature, like slipping into an old habit you didn't know you still had. His warmth still lingered on your skin, the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the sheets, wrapping around you.

He looked peaceful like this.

Hair messy, his lips slightly parted, his breathing steady. He didn't look like the Jisung you had been reunited with last night—the one who was cocky, pushing your buttons just enough to get under your skin. No, this was the Jisung you remembered from before. The one you used to sneak glances at in class, the one who made you laugh without trying.

A part of you, a stupid part of you wanted to lay back down, press yourself against him, bury yourself in the comfort of his presence. Wanted to let him pull you close in his sleep like he used to, wanted to pretend, even for a little while, that none of the years apart had happened.

You swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts away. This was probably just a hookup to him—one last reckless decision before leaving the city, and maybe that was all it should be to you too. Before you could change your mind, you carefully slipped out of bed, grabbing your scattered clothes off the floor. You dressed quickly, barely breathing, barely thinking, just moving.

Jisung stirred slightly, mumbling something under his breath, but he didn't wake up. You slipped out into the cold, dark morning.

10:04 AM

Your phone buzzed beside you, the screen lighting up against the dark comforter of your bed. You weren't even sure why you reached for it so fast.

Jisung [10:04 AM]: "I had a fun time last night. When can I see you again?"

You stared at the message, fingers hovering over the screen. The easy answer was never. You could leave it at that—ignore him, let this be a one time thing and pretend none of it mattered.

Another buzz.

Jisung [10:10 AM]: "Can we grab lunch together or something this afternoon?"

Your lips pressed together, exhaling a slow breath. Everything in you screamed that this was a bad idea. That seeing him again after everything would only make things worse, but he wanted to see you, again and maybe that was enough.

You [10:12 AM]: "Yeah, okay."

The restaurant was small, tucked away on a quiet street corner. A place you wouldn't have picked yourself, but the atmosphere was nice. Jisung was already there when you walked in, sitting in a booth by the window. His eyes met yours instantly, and that stupid smile of his tugged at his lips as he waved you over.

"You actually came."

"I said I would, didn't I?" You replied, sliding into the seat across from him.

"Yeah, but you also left me alone in bed this morning, so I wasn't sure."

You huffed, shaking your head.

"What? It was kinda tragic." He grinned, leaning back in his seat. "Woke up cold and abandoned."

"Tragic, really?" You murmured.

"Devastating honestly." He sighed dramatically, then smirked. "Thought maybe I imagined the whole thing."

He didn't. You knew that. You both did.

"You didn't." You said dryly, picking up the menu.

He chuckled, eyes still fixed on you.

"So." He said, tilting his head slightly. "What do you recommend? This was your idea after all."

"Excuse me? You invited me."

"Yeah, but you said yes."

"Which makes it my idea?"

"Exactly." He smirked.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small smile that slipped through. It felt familiar, like nothing had changed. It was in the way his gaze lingered on you a little too long, the way his fingers tapped the table, like he was thinking of saying something but holding back. It was also in the way you couldn't help but steal glances at him, like you were trying to find something in his expression that wasn't there before.

The waiter came, and you ordered, the momentary distraction shifting the mood back to something lighter for only a split second.

But then—

"Why'd you leave?"

Your hand stiffened around your glass.

You didn't look up. "Jisung."

"I know, I know." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You don't wanna talk about it, but—"

"But nothing." Your voice was sharper than intended, but you didn't soften it. "I told you I don't want to talk about it."

His jaw tensed, eyes searching yours for something, but he exhaled and leaned back.

"Fine. No deep shit today." He paused, then smirked. "But you can make it up to me later."

Your breath hitched. "Jisung—"

"Relax." He grinned, reaching for his drink. "Just a joke."

It wasn't, but you let it slide.

"So, what's next for you?" You asked, shifting the conversation.

Jisung's smirk faded slightly, his fingers tapping against the table. "Heading to another city tomorrow. Last stop on the tour."

"Oh."

You didn't know why that answer made your chest tighten. It wasn't like you expected him to stay, it wasn't like this changed anything.

"You gonna miss me?" He teased.

"Not even a little."

He gasped dramatically. "Liar."

"Delusional."

"You wound me, Y/n."

You laughed, shaking your head.

Lunch continued, and despite the underlying tension, it was... good.

You laughed more than you wanted to. Fell back into old habits, old inside jokes. For a moment, it almost felt normal, but as you walked out of the restaurant together reality hit. Jisung was leaving and you had no idea if, or when you'd see him again. He seemed to read your mind because he gave you a small smile.

"You know, if you ever feel like seeing a Black Horizon show, I'll get you in."

"Oh, so you're offering me free tickets now?"

"I always was."

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. The goodbye hovered between you. Neither of you wanted to say it, but it was inevitable.

"Goodbye Jisung."

His eyes softened slightly, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for you, but stopped himself.

"Yeah." He murmured. "See you around."

But as he walked away, you couldn't help but wonder— was this really the end?

══════════════════════════

It had been about a month since Jisung left, and honestly, you had forgotten all about him.

Well—partly.

His number still sat in your phone, not saved, but memorized enough that your eyes lingered over it sometimes. Sometimes you caught yourself staring at your screen, wondering if you should reach out, if you should at least say something, but you never did, never could. It was better this way, he should stay in the past—strictly.

It was time to focus on your future.

"You okay?"

A voice knocked you out of your thoughts, and you turned your head.

Speaking of the future.

"Yeah Haechan, I'm good. Just thinking." You flashed a small grin, trying to shake off the moment.

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. "About what?"

"Nothing you'd be interested in." You grabbed your washcloth, running it over the counter, focusing a little too hard on the streaks left behind.

"I'm interested." His response came quickly.

When you looked up, his eyes were locked onto yours, a grin forming at the corners of his lips. The moment stretched just long enough for warmth to creep up your neck before you turned away, cheeks feeling a little too hot.

The bar was practically empty now, the usual hum of voices gone, closing time. You always liked this part of the night—the slow, quiet moments when it was just the two of you finishing up, the outside world feeling distant.

"Just about life, that's all. Nothing I can really put into words right now." You finally answered.

Haechan nodded like he understood, turning back to organize the glasses behind the counter.

"Is it something you can put into words later?" He asked after a second. "Outside of work, maybe?"

His voice was quieter now, almost like the words slipped out before he could think twice.

Your hands froze mid wipe.

"What did you say?" You asked, turning to face him.

Haechan had his back to you, placing the last glass on the shelf, but when he turned around his lips were pressed together, cheeks puffed out slightly like he had been caught.

"Huh? I didn't say anything." His voice was light, but there was something a little nervous about the way he scratched the back of his head.

You squinted at him suspiciously. "I swear you said something. I must be imagining things—I'm exhausted." You giggled, shaking your head, but you didn't miss the way he let out a small breath of relief.

"Yeah, I get it honestly." He wiped his hands on a towel, eyes scanning the room before nodding in satisfaction. "Looks pretty good in here, I think you're good to go."

"Are you not coming with?" You asked, genuine concern slipping into your tone.

"Nah, the boss texted me and asked me to check out the security cameras since I'm the only one who knows how to work them."

You frowned. "I can learn—"

"I'm good, swear." He cut you off quickly, shaking his head. "Go home and get some rest. I'll see you in a few days, yeah?"

"Maybe tomorrow. The boss needs me for the afternoon shift, so we'll run into each other most likely."

Haechan sighed, his lips forming into a smile. "You've been working back to back Y/n, you need a break. Take tomorrow off— I'll cover you, I like working Monday anyways."

"No, it's okay, swear. I need the money anyway. It'll all be worth it when I have the—"

"Cafe, I know." He finished for you, his smile growing.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, sorry."

"No need to be sorry, I love hearing about it." His voice was soft, but firm. "But you're gonna be burned out by the time you open it if you keep working like this."

Before you could protest, he reached into his pocket pulling out a crisp hundred dollar bill and holding it up.

"Take a break Y/n."

Your eyes widened. "Haechan, I can't accept this."

"Yeah... I think you can." He shifted on his feet, his smile turning a little awkward, like he wasn't sure if this was too much. "Just... think of it like an early birthday gift, I guess."

"First off, my birthday is in 3 weeks. Second, how did you even remember that?" You asked, exasperated.

He raised an eyebrow, pressing his lips in a line. "It happens every year, kinda hard to forget."

You stared at him for a moment before sighing. "Okay, okay. I'll take the day off, but keep your money—seriously."

Haechan pouted dramatically. "So you're rejecting your gift? Wow, okay, I didn't know you hated me."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Fine." You grabbed the bill from his hand, rolling your eyes. "Thank you for the three week early gift, kind sir."

"You're welcome, madam. There's more where that came from." He smiled brightly.

"There better not be."

His smile softened. "Well, I'll at least get you a little something more on your birthday. Even though you shouldn't set foot in this place on your birthday."

"Trust me, I won't, but the day after? I can't promise anything." You shrugged playfully.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't stop you that time, but I'll make sure I'm scheduled so I can give you your gift." He smiled comfortably.

"Okay, I'll be waiting on it."

Your eyes met his, and for a split second, it felt like something hung in the air between you, but before it could settle Haechan cleared his throat.

"Well, you should head out."

"Yeah, okay." You nodded, stepping away to grab your stuff from the back.

When you returned to the front, Haechan was still adjusting bottles on the shelves.

"I'll see you later."

He turned, a smile on his face. "See ya."

You pushed the door open, stepping into the cool night air. The smell of cigarettes hit your nose. Familiar... too familiar.

Before you could process it, a voice came from behind you.

"You're off work?"

Your stomach dropped. You turned slowly, eyes locking onto Jisung.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Jisung stood there, cigarette dangling between his fingers, dark eyes flickering over you.

"Well, I wanted a drink, but it looks like you're closed." He peeked through the glass doors before returning his gaze to yours.

Your arms crossed tightly. "Jisung, seriously. What are you doing here? I thought you were gone... for good."

He tilted his head. "I said I was going to another city for a stop, not that I was gone forever."

You narrowed your eyes. "I don't know, the way you said bye made it seem like—"

"I said see you around." He cut you off. "You said bye. Honestly thought you'd disappear again before I came back."

Silence.

You exhaled sharply. "Goodbye, Jisung." You turned to walk away.

"Wait. I came because I wanted to see you again. Don't act like you don't want to see me too."

"I don't." You shot back, rolling your eyes, your arms folding tightly across your chest.

His expression flickered, just for a second before he scoffed. "Why are you so damn mean all of a sudden? This new personality is seriously unlikable."

Your eyes narrowed. "I don't know, maybe because we haven't been friends for, I don't know—six years? So yeah, I've changed, and I'm sorry you don't like it." Your words were sharp, cutting.

"I'm trying to like it, but you're not making it easy." His voice was firm, frustration creeping into his tone as he leaned forward.

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. "It's literally the second time you've seen me Jisung, relax. You're acting like you've been chasing me down for years."

"You left first, yet I'm the bad guy for trying to reconcile?" He spoke, jaw clenching.

Your stomach twisted, irritation bubbling up.

"You don't want to reconcile, you want to hookup. Which was a one time thing by the way." You snapped, crossing your arms. "What happened to gentlemen who take you out to dinner." You said rolling your eyes.

Jisung blinked, tilting his head slightly. For a moment, you thought you'd struck a nerve.

"I will."

His voice was different now, lower.

Your brows furrowed. "What?"

"I didn't know you wanted to, but I will." His eyes met yours.

You huffed, shaking your head. A short exasperated laugh escaped you, like you couldn't believe what you were hearing. "Nah, you're good."

But Jisung didn't let it go.

"No, send your address." His voice softened slightly, but the determination was still there. "You want me to take you out to dinner? I'll take you out to dinner."

"Right." You scoffed, lifting an eyebrow. "I bet you will." You said sarcastically, turning away from him, walking quickly.

And he didn't call after you, didn't try to stop you, but you could feel his eyes on you.

══════════════════════════ You sat on your couch, phone in your hand, your knee bouncing slightly as you stared at the empty message thread. This was a bad idea, such a bad idea, but your fingers hovered over the keyboard anyway.

Jisung had gotten under your skin the way he always did—effortlessly. You could still hear his voice, see that teasing smirk he always wore when he knew he had the upper hand.

"You want me to take you out to dinner? I'll take you out to dinner. Tomorrow."

You huffed, this wasn't some big deal—it was just dinner, just food. You felt that you should just ignore it, let it go, prove that he didn't still have this stupid, frustrating hold on you. But instead, before you could overthink it, you typed out your address and hit send.

It took less than a minute for the read receipt to pop up.

Jisung [6:24 PM]: "Oh? Someone came to her senses."

You rolled your eyes.

You [6:25 PM]: "Shut up. Are you picking me up or what?"

Jisung [6:26 PM]: "Relax Y/n. I'll be there at 8."

You could practically hear the cocky tone in his voice just from the text. This was going to be such a mistake.

Jisung pulled up in front of your apartment exactly at eight, which was surprising considering his usual habit of running late.

He rolled down the window, resting his arm on the door as he looked at you with a smirk. "Look at you, actually waiting outside for me."

You gave him a dry look, tugging the car door open. "I swear to God Jisung—"

"Ok, ok." He laughed, unlocking the door fully. "Get in before you change your mind."

The drive to the restaurant was... normal and that in itself was strange. There was no arguing, no sarcasm, instead, the conversation flowed naturally. He talked about the last stops of his tour, about how much he thrived on stage, but hated how exhausting the traveling was. You mentioned how much the city had changed since he left—how certain streets felt unrecognizable now, but some places stayed exactly the same.

By the time you reached the restaurant, you weren't sure what to expect anymore, but when you sat across from him, your menus open but untouched, Jisung leaned back in his chair and smirked. "Alright, let's talk about you."

You raised an eyebrow. "What about me?"

"Everything." He said simply, tapping his fingers against the table. "What have you been up to? What do you do when you're not pouring drinks?"

"I work. I go home. That's pretty much it." You said.

"Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit."

"No, see, that's bullshit." He leaned forward slightly, eyes locked onto yours. "You never just work, you always had something else going on. So?"

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the condensation on your glass. You weren't sure why you felt reluctant to tell him—maybe because it was personal, and you weren't ready to hand him pieces of yourself again, but still, you sighed and gave in.

"I've been working on opening a café."

Jisung blinked once, before letting out a scoff of amusement. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"Knew you wouldn't let that go." He shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You were obsessed with that idea when we were younger."

You frowned slightly. "Yeah, now I'm actually making it happen."

Jisung tilted his head, his smirk fading into something unreadable. "Why didn't you just say that earlier?"

You looked away, your fingers still trailing along the glass rim. "I don't know, you've been gone for years. I figured it didn't really matter to you."

His expression flickered, but he didn't immediately snap back with some sarcastic remark. He leaned back, watching you carefully. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" You asked, glancing up.

"Talk like I don't know you at all anymore." His voice wasn't teasing anymore. It was steady, a little softer than before. "Like I didn't spend years listening to you go on about this."

You cleared your throat. "Well, it's happening now. I have a location and the last bit of funding."

Jisung exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. "Damn. You really pulled it off."

"Trying to." You corrected.

His lips curled slightly. "I'd go."

You met his gaze, eyebrow raised. "You better."

For a while, the conversation kept its natural rhythm. The teasing was still there, but it was balanced by genuine curiosity. It almost felt like nothing had changed.

"How's your mom?"

Your expression dropped for a small second as you reached for your drink, stalling with a small sip. "Huh?"

"Your mom." Jisung repeated, tilting his head slightly. "How's she doing? I should stop by, say hello."

You let out a short, forced laugh. "Oh, I don't think she'll be too happy to see you."

Jisung's easy expression faltered slightly. "Huh?"

"Oh, no I'm just saying that she probably just doesn't want to see you." You said, a forced smile on your face as you brushed it off.

"What do you mean?" He questioned.

"Nothing, just... I don't think she really cares about catching up with you, she doesn't really like having company y'know?" You said, keeping your voice casual.

His fingers tapped lightly against the table. "Yeah, I understand. Why do I feel like you're leaving something out though?"

"I'm not." You said, forcing a small smile. "Seriously, it's nothing."

Jisung studied you, his gaze sharp, like he was picking apart the way you avoided eye contact.

"Does it have something to do with you leaving without telling me anything?"

Your shoulders stiffened. "Jisung, stop. Seriously."

"No." He pressed, his voice low. "I feel like I deserve to know—"

"I said stop."

The words came out sharper than you intended, a little too loud. A couple at a nearby table glanced over.

Jisung leaned back slowly, raising his hands slightly. "Fine."

But the mood had already shifted.

Jisung cleared his throat, shifting slightly. "So... did you ever get good at baking?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Baking." He repeated, his voice forced light. "You used to suck at it, burnt cookies every time."

You let out a small, barely there laugh. "I got better."

Silence stretched between you. Jisung drumming his fingers against the table before trying again. "So, uh... do you live alone?"

"Yeah."

"Nice place?"

"It's alright."

"Any pets?"

"Nope."

Another pause.

He let out a slow breath. "Still listen to the same music?"

"Mostly."

"What happened to that one band you were obsessed with?"

"They broke up."

Jisung sighed, rubbing his jaw. "Okay, you gotta give me something here. I'm trying, but you're shutting me down."

You finally looked at him, shrugging.

He studied you for a second, then nodded, pushing his chair back. "Let's go."

The ride was quiet, the weight of the earlier conversation lingering between you both. Jisung pulled up in front of your apartment, resting his hands on the steering wheel.

"Okay, bye." His voice was flat, casual...too casual.

You glanced at him. "You're not coming in?"

He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking up slightly. "Why would I need to come in?"

His tone was teasing, but there was something beneath it, like he was testing the waters.

You smirked, tilting your head slightly. "Come on."

Jisung stepped inside, hands shoved into his pockets as he looked around, taking in the space.

"This is a nice place." He said, his voice casual, but there was a hint of genuine interest behind it.

You huffed, kicking off your shoes by the door. "Yeah right."

"I'm serious." He replied, trailing after you as you walked into the living room.

You turned to face him, arms crossed. The air between you felt... off balance. Like you both knew where this was going, but neither of you wanted to be the first to say it.

"Would you like a drink?" You asked, your voice a little quieter now.

"Naw, I'm good." His reply was smooth, but his eyes never left yours.

Silence stretched between you, before you finally broke it.

"Okay." You said, the word lingering in the air.

Jisung raised an eyebrow watching you carefully, waiting.

You swallowed, exhaling softly. "We're on the same page here, right?"

His lips twitched slightly, like he was holding back a smirk. "I don't know, maybe. What are you thinking?"

His voice was lower now, he already knew what you were thinking, but wanted to hear you say it.

You hesitated for only a second before stepping closer. "I don't know." You admitted, your fingers brushing against the hem of your shirt. "But I think we should stop talking about it and make it happen—only if we're on the same page, of course."

Jisung's smirk deepened as he took a slow step forward, closing the space between you.

"Oh?" His voice was teasing, but his eyes had darkened slightly, his gaze locked on yours. "What happened to it being a one time thing?"

You felt your pulse quicken, but you kept your expression steady. "I mean... if you're not interested, that's—"

Before you could finish Jisung interrupted you, his lips crashing against yours, his hands finding your face, fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you in like he'd been waiting for this. You barely had time to react before your hands instinctively moved to his waist, gripping onto him and pulling him even closer, surprising him slightly.

He broke the kiss for just a second, his breath fanning over your lips as he whispered. "I am."

Then his lips were on yours again. You truly thought that was going to be the last time, but first it started with him appearing in your notification center.

Wednesday, 2/19

The first time was impulse.

You were in the middle of getting ready for work, standing in front of your mirror, smoothing out your shirt when your phone buzzed.

Jisung [6:47 PM]: "Hey, wyd tonight?"

You stared at the message, your fingers hesitating over the keyboard for a moment before you responded.

You [6:49 PM]: "Work, why?"

Jisung [6:50 PM]: "Can you come over after?"

It would be the last time. You'd make sure of it.

You [6:52 PM]: "Okay, but this is the last time."

Lying to him was one thing, lying to yourself was another because your mind kept drifting back to him—to the way he touched you, the way he felt.

Friday, 2/21

By the third time, it wasn't impulse anymore.

You were curled up on your couch after a long shift, staring at your phone, fighting yourself over sending a text you shouldn't be sending, but then you did.

You [10:23 PM]: "Have you left yet?"

He opened it instantly.

Jisung [10:23 PM]: "No, why?"

You could still back out or you could do the exact thing you promised yourself you wouldn't.

You [10:24 PM]: "Do you want to come over?"

The moment you hit send, a wave of shame settled in your stomach. You shouldn't want this.

Jisung [10:24 PM]: "Of course, I'm on my way."

Saturday, 2/22

Jisung was leaving soon. This thing—whatever it was, would be over, and you'd be able to return to normal.

Jisung [4:19 PM]: "I leave tomorrow. Can I come over to see you before I go?"

You read the text twice, then a third time, before finally responding.

You [4:22 PM]: "You were just here yesterday lol."

Jisung [4:23 PM]: "I know. Just want to hang out and say goodbye. Maybe we can watch a movie?"

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head.

You're not stupid.

You [4:24 PM]: "Right... watch a movie and say goodbye."

Jisung [4:24 PM]: "I'm serious."

You didn't believe him.

You [4:26 PM]: "Whatever, just come over."

Jisung showed up at your door, a bag of takeout in one hand, a smug grin on his lips.

"Brought food." He said simply, stepping inside.

The two of you settled onto the couch, the movie playing in the background, though neither of you were really paying attention. This was the most casual hangout you'd had since running into him weeks ago.

Until it wasn't.

Until his hand drifted to your thigh and stayed there.

Until your gaze lingered on his lips longer than it should have.

Until his fingers traced small circles against your skin, slow and teasing, like he was daring you to acknowledge it.

And then you did.

And then his lips were on yours again.

And then you were leading him to your bedroom.

It felt like a never ending cycle, something you should have been able to stop but somehow never could.

It wasn't even about the number of times—four, maybe five. It was the way it felt natural, even when it shouldn't. Especially when you considered that this was Jisung. Your childhood best friend, the same person you could never see that way.

And yet, here you were.

Again.

You lay beside him, his arm draped lazily over your waist, the sound of his steady breathing filling the space around you. You lifted your head slightly, resting your chin against his bare chest.

"So, um." You started, voice softer than intended.

Jisung hummed, eyes barely opening as he tilted his head toward you.

"What is... this?" You asked.

His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn't look surprised.

"I don't know." He said, his voice groggy but calm. "What do you want it to be?"

You hesitated before flipping the question back on him.

"What do you want it to be?"

He let out a quiet laugh. "I asked first."

You sighed, playing with the hem of the blanket. "Well, I know that I've had a good time with you."

"I agree." He nodded.

"But."

His eyes narrowed slightly, watching you closely.

"I think we should keep this... platonic."

Jisung's lips parted slightly before he let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Platonic?" He scoffed. "I'm in your bed with no clothes on for the, what, third time this week—and you want to keep it platonic?"

You smirked slightly, shaking your head. "Not like that, Jisung."

His lips quirked up, but there was something else behind his expression now.

"This, but just... no titles, no relationship, no... feelings."

Jisung's grin faded for just a second. It was quick, so quick you almost missed it.

"So just friends?" He asked, voice unreadable.

"Right." You nodded, giving him a small smile.

There was a pause, then he exhaled, shaking his head with a smirk.

"Sorry, but I thought that's what this was in the first place."

You searched his expression, trying to decipher whether or not he meant that.

"I never doubted that." You said quietly, watching the way his grin faltered just slightly. "But I just want to make sure it's in the air, that we're on the same page."

Jisung held your gaze for a second longer before nodding. "We are. No titles, no relationship, no feelings."

"Got it." You smiled. "Now, I think it's time for you to leave." You added playfully.

Jisung clutched his chest, sucking in his teeth dramatically. "Ouch."

"Stop." You rolled your eyes. "I don't mind, but if you're anything like how you were years ago, then I know you need to go prepare to leave tomorrow."

"Whatever." He sighed, getting out of bed and getting dressed.

You walked him to the door, leaning against the frame as he lingered for a moment.

"When am I gonna see you again?" He asked.

"I could ask you the same question."

Jisung tilted his head slightly. "No clue." He frowned a little, then forced a small smile. "But I'll at least try to come for your birthday in a few weeks."

Your eyes flickered in surprise.

"You—"

"Remembered?" He raised an eyebrow. "Yes."

A small smile tugged at your lips.

"Hey, you can't blame me." You teased.

Jisung gave you a long look, like he wanted to say something—something you didn't want to hear. Instead, he exhaled through his nose and nodded.

"Safe travels and good luck with your band." You said.

"Thank you. I'll text when I make it back."

You paused, then nodded. "Cool."

"Cool?" He repeated.

"Yes Jisung. Goodbye."

He chuckled. "See you later."

Sunday, 2/23

Back to routine. Same shift. Same uniform, except this time, your phone buzzed.

Jisung [11:45 AM]: "Hey, I made it back. Whatchu up to?"

══════════════════════════

It was the usual tonight—customers flooding in, the hours passing by, keeping you busy.

By the time closing rolled around, it was just you and Haechan, wiping down the counters, stacking chairs, and finishing up the last of your closing duties.

"Happy birthday Y/n!" Haechan suddenly spoke, glancing at his watch before flashing you a grin.

You looked up from the register, momentarily surprised before smiling. "Thank you."

"What are you doing tomorrow—well, technically today?" He corrected.

"Just going out with family." You replied.

"Oh, nice." He nodded, setting the last of the clean glasses in place before turning to you. "You know, it's funny—I could've just brought your gift today."

You giggled, shaking your head. "Yeah, I don't know why you didn't."

"Guess I wasn't thinking." He admitted with a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're still working tomorrow, right?"

"No? It's my birthday tomorrow." You replied, stretching your arms with a grin.

Haechan cocked his head at you. "It's your birthday today."

You blinked, realizing he was right. Midnight had already passed.

"Oh, right." You laughed at yourself. "Sorry, my brain's fried."

"You need sleep." He teased. "But that means, yes—you're working tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll be here." You confirmed.

Haechan grinned. "Then I'll bring your gift tomorrow. The boss said I can work, so it's just gonna be the two of us."

"Sounds good to me."

With that, you finished closing up, locked the doors, and parted ways for the night.

The moment you stepped into your apartment, exhaustion finally hit you. You kicked off your shoes, sighing as you tossed your keys onto the counter, but before you could even change, your phone buzzed from inside your bag.

Jisung [1:07 AM]: "Happy birthday."

You smiled a little before responding.

You [1:08 AM]: "Thank you!"

A few seconds later, another message popped up.

Jisung [1:08 AM]: "I'll be there soon to take you out."

You [1:09 AM]: "Not today, already got something planned."

He didn't respond right away, but when he did, it was short.

Jisung [1:10 AM]: "Noted. I'll lyk."

You exhaled softly, locking your phone.

The past few weeks with Jisung had been... unexpected.

You weren't together, but somehow he was more present in your life than ever. You called each other almost every day, talking until one of you fell asleep. You texted constantly, sometimes about everything, sometimes about nothing. Even at work you found yourself sneaking replies between shifts, only to find out he was doing the same, sending you snippets of whatever he was recording or doing that day. So it wasn't really a surprise when your phone rang again the next day later that afternoon, just a few hours before your shift.

"How can I help you Jisung?" You said, holding the phone between your shoulder and ear.

"Ouch." He gasped dramatically. "That is not how you greet the person taking you out tonight."

"Well, thank god you're not the person taking me out tonight, because I have work."

"Y/n, no." He groaned, dragging out the word in a whine.

"Jisung, yes." You mocked his tone. "There's nothing I can do about it."

"Can't you take off? Get someone to cover you?" His voice had shifted from dramatic to genuinely pleading now. "I leave tomorrow, I have work to handle. I have a job, remember?"

"Yes, I remember. Do you remember that I have one too?"

"Please Y/n." His voice softened, making you rethink your decision. "I'm coming for you, to spend a birthday with you—something I haven't done in a while. Let me."

You paused, your lips parting slightly. A long silence stretched between you both before you finally exhaled.

"Let me call you back."

"Y/n, wait—"

"Shh, I'll call you back." You hung up before he could argue.

You scrolled through your contacts, clicking on Haechan's name. The phone rang a few times before he picked up.

"What's up?" He answered, his voice slightly winded like he'd been running around.

"Are you busy?" You asked.

"Yeah, a little, just at work. What's up?"

You bit your lip. "Do you think you can cover me tonight?"

The line went quiet.

You frowned slightly waiting for a response, but when he finally spoke, his voice was noticeably different.

"Um... I don't know. I'll be by myself on a Friday night, that's a lot."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. You were just the first person I thought of." You admitted. "But you could find someone else to help, right?"

"I could, but it's gonna be hard on such short notice."

"Maybe not." You countered. "People always want extra shifts. I got covered ten minutes before a shift once."

There was another pause.

"Right." He murmured, his tone unreadable.

Guilt spread through your stomach. "I'm sorry, these birthday plans are severely last minute. You can totally say no if you want—"

"Ok."

You blinked. "Ok?"

"I'll cover you tonight." He said, his voice forcefully light. "But you owe me."

"Oh my God, I owe you the whole world." You exclaimed, your voice almost painfully cheerful now. "Thank you Haechan, I love you for this."

"Yeah, yeah, no problem. Love you too." His voice sounded... off, but before you could linger on it, he spoke again. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You barely had time to say goodbye before he hung up. Shrugging off the weird feeling in your gut, you immediately called Jisung back.

"Oh, you actually called back." He teased as soon as he answered.

"Yeah, I did." You replied, your voice noticeably lighter now.

"You seem to be in a much better mood." He said with a hint of amusement in his tone.

"That's because you are the person taking me out tonight."

"Oh, am I?" His voice brightened, more than he probably meant for it to.

"Yes, you are."

Jisung let out a soft chuckle. "Well then, the person taking you out tonight is picking you up at six."

You smiled. "Thank you for informing me. See you then."

Jisung [5:58 PM]: "Outside. No rush, but also... hurry up."

You rolled your eyes but smiled, quickly slipping on your jacket before grabbing your phone and bag. You checked yourself in the mirror one last time, smoothing out your outfit before heading outside.

Jisung was leaning against his car, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression unreadable until he saw you, then that stupid little smirk of his appeared.

"Damn." He said, looking you up and down. "You look nice."

"Shut up." You huffed, but you were smiling as you reached for the car door.

"I mean it." He added, a little softer.

You glanced at him, your heart skipping for half a second before you quickly slid into the passenger seat. He got in after you, starting the car as music hummed through the speakers. The air smelled like his cologne, mixed with the faintest scent of vanilla from the air freshener hanging from the mirror.

"So, where are we going?" You asked, buckling your seatbelt.

"Dinner first." Jisung said, glancing over at you with a small smirk. "Gotta feed the birthday girl."

Jisung took you to a small, cozy restaurant tucked between some buildings downtown. It wasn't fancy, but it was warm, intimate, the kind of place where the lights were dim, and soft music played in the background.

The moment you walked in, he casually placed a hand on your lower back, guiding you toward a booth. It was barely anything, but it sent a small shiver up your spine.

He slid into the seat across from you, leaning back comfortably. "Alright, order whatever you want. Birthday rules."

"Birthday rules?" You raised a brow.

"Yeah, you get whatever you want, and I don't complain about the price." He grinned. "And also, you can't get mad at me for whatever dumb shit I do tonight."

You laughed, shaking your head. "We'll see about that."

When the waiter came, Jisung let you order first before he placed his, and true to his word he didn't even flinch when you went a little overboard with your choices.

"So," He said once the waiter left, propping his elbow on the table. "How's twenty three treating you so far?"

"It's only been a few hours Jisung."

"Yeah, but do you feel different?" He wiggled his brows dramatically.

"No idiot." You laughed.

"Lame." He sighed. "I was hoping for some life changing wisdom."

"You just turned twenty three a few months ago. Where's your wisdom?"

"Ah, but I'm not the birthday person today." He countered, smirking.

You shook your head, but the smile never left your face.

When the food arrived, you both dug in immediately, the conversation never slowing down. There were moments where Jisung stole food from your plate without asking, moments where you flicked a fry at him in retaliation, moments where the laughter between you felt so easy—so natural, that almost made you forget all the years you spent apart.

By the time the plates were empty, you were both comfortably full, and Jisung looked across the table with a small glint in his eyes. "You ready for the next stop?" He asked, as you nodded with a smile.

The moment you pulled into the arcades parking lot you felt the nostalgia settle in your chest.

"Holy shit." You murmured, looking around once you stepped inside.

"Feels like high school, huh?" Jisung grinned.

The arcade looked almost exactly the same as it did years ago—the flashing lights, the smell of popcorn, the sounds of tickets printing, and people shouting in excitement.

"Come on." Jisung said, already heading toward the change machine. He pulled out a couple of bills, exchanged them for tokens, and handed you a stack. "Hope you're ready to get your ass kicked."

You scoffed, stuffing the coins in your pocket. "We'll see about that."

The first game you played was air hockey. Jisung was obnoxious about it, smirking every time he scored on you.

"Damn, you used to be way better at this." He teased.

"I'm warming up." You argued, huffing as you tried to block his next shot.

Then came racing games, basketball hoops, and a whack a mole battle that ended with both of you laughing so hard you almost forgot to keep score. Everything about it felt... familiar.

Then you saw it, the claw machine. You both used to be obsessed with it.

"No way." Jisung breathed, already walking toward it. "They still have it?"

"I can't believe this thing is still standing." You added, stepping beside him.

Jisung cracked his knuckles. "Alright. If I win, you have to admit that I'm the best at everything."

"And if you lose?"

"Not possible." He smirked before inserting a token.

He almost won the first time, then failed spectacularly the second.By the third time, you were laughing so hard you had to lean against the glass.

"Shut up." He groaned, focusing harder.

And then he actually won, turning to you, holding up a small stuffed animal with a shit eating grin.

"Bow to your champion." He said.

"I hate you." You grumbled, grabbing the toy.

"No, you love me." He corrected, his voice teasing, but his eyes soft.

You swallowed, ignoring the warmth spreading through your chest. "Where to next?" You asked.

His grin widened. "You'll see."

The last place you expected Jisung to take you was a music studio.

"Uh, why are we here?" You asked as he led you inside.

He glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. "Just trust me."

The room was dark, blue and red lighting, a few instruments scattered around, soundproofed walls, but one stuck out to you.

A guitar— his guitar, the one he would always use when you both were younger... the one you had given him as a gift.

Jisung smiled picking it up, settling into a chair before glancing at you.

"You remember your favorite song?" He asked casually.

Your breath caught. "You remember?"

"Of course I do. I couldn't get a break from it, always asking me to play it, even though I wasn't very good." He murmured, fingers strumming the first few chords.

And then he played and it was perfect. You just sat there watching him, feeling your chest tighten. When he finished he looked up, eyes locking onto yours.

"Happy birthday." He murmured.

You didn't say anything, you couldn't. All you could do was walk over to him, stand in front of him and stare into his eyes. Then you leaned in, closing the small space between you, and pressed your lips to his in a slow kiss. His hands found your waist almost instantly, pulling you against him like he couldn't stand another inch of distance.

The moment you reached your apartment you guided him to the couch, your lips never leaving his. With a gentle push, he sank onto the cushions, and you climbed onto his lap, pulling him into another messy kiss. Then you trailed your mouth to his neck, kissing down the warm skin slowly. Soft gasps slipped from him as you explored the sensitive spot just beneath his jaw, his hands gripping you tighter with every touch.

Your hands moved down his body, eager and a little shaky as you worked to undo his pants. You freed him, wrapping your fingers around him and stroking, slow at first. Soft moans slipped from his lips, his eyes locked on you. Then you slid down between his legs, settling on your knees in front of him, your touch never leaving him.

"No, I'm supposed to be treating you for your birthday." He said, breath hitching.

"I want to." You whispered, your thumb brushing over his tip.

"But—" He started, the protest dying in his throat the moment your mouth wrapped around him, cutting him off with a choked whimper.

His head dropped back against the couch, a low groan slipping from his throat as your mouth moved around him. You took your time, letting your tongue swirl around his tip before sliding deeper, feeling him twitch against your tongue.

His fingers clenched the edge of the couch, knuckles white. Every soft suck, every flick of your tongue pulled a new sound from him—quiet moans, hitched breaths, curses whispered under his breath.

He looked down at you through half lidded eyes, dark and dazed. One hand reached for you threading into your hair, not to control, just to feel you.

"Fuck... you feel so good." He breathed, his voice low and wrecked.

You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes as you sank down further, cheeks hollowing around him. The moment your pace quickened his hips gave a slight helpless jerk, and he bit his lip to keep another groan from spilling out.

You kept your rhythm steady, teasing him with just enough pressure to keep him right on the edge. Every time you pulled back, you let your tongue drag along the underside of him before taking him back in, deeper each time. His thighs tensed beneath your hands, a clear sign of how hard he was trying to stay still, to not lose control.

You let out a soft hum around him and he gasped, hips twitching as the vibration shot through him, his hand tightening in your hair.

"Shit—baby, wait..." He muttered, but there was no conviction in his voice, only pleasure and desperation. His eyes fluttered shut for a second before locking back on you.

You kept your eyes on him as you picked up the pace again, your mouth moving faster, more focused. He was close, you could feel it in the way his thighs tightened beneath your hands, the way his breathing turned shallow and uneven, every soft gasp turning into a ragged moan.

His hand gripped your hair even tighter, hips lifting just slightly.

"Fuck, I'm—" He tried to warn you, voice cracking, but he didn't get the chance to finish his sentence.

You didn't slow down, taking him deep, lips and tongue working him through it as he came hard, a broken sound tearing from his throat. His whole body tensed under your touch, breath catching as waves of pleasure crashed over him as he twitched, sinking back into the couch with a shaky exhale.

His hand loosened in your hair, fingertips brushing your cheek as he looked down at you, completely wrecked and grinning like he couldn't believe what just happened.

"This night was supposed to be about you." He murmured as he tucked himself away, then reached for you, gently pulling you up onto the couch. Before you could protest, he stood and dropped to his knees in front of you.

"I said I wanted to." You replied with a soft smile, your voice breathless as he pushed up your skirt, fingers slipping beneath the fabric to pull your underwear down to your knees.

"Mm, right." He said, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, hands firm on your thighs as he leaned in. His lips brushed along your leg, leaving slow lingering kisses that traveled upward. He never looked away from you, his gaze dark as he inched closer.

Each kiss grew slower, hotter, as he neared your inner thigh, the anticipation curling tight in your stomach. He paused, just breathing against your skin, making you feel every second stretch before he finally moved in closer.

Then finally, he leaned in.

His tongue found you in one slow stroke, and your head fell back against the couch with a sharp inhale. He moved with purpose, his mouth working you open smoothly, his tongue flicking and curling just right. One of his hands slid up to press against your stomach, grounding you as the other gripped your thigh, keeping you right where he wanted you.

You moaned loudly, fingers digging into the cushions as he kept his movements steady and deep. He pulled you in closer with every stroke of his tongue, every wet, open mouthed kiss he left against you, his eyes flicking up to watch you.

"You're already shaking." He murmured between strokes, his voice rough and hungry.

And the way he was working you, tongue pressing just right—it wasn't long before heat coiled tightly in your lower belly. Your thighs began to tremble around his shoulders, breath catching as the climax crashed through you in waves.

He didn't stop right away. He eased you through it, mouth softer now, slower, until your body finally relaxed under his touch.

When he pulled back, lips slick, he looked up at you like he could devour you all over again.

He stayed close, brushing slow kisses along your thighs, like he couldn't stop touching you, couldn't get enough. His hand slipped into yours, fingers lacing together.

After a few quiet moments, he smiled and whispered. "We should probably go to the bed." Pulling back just enough to look at you properly

You gave a smile, brushing your thumb over his cheek. "Okay."

══════════════════════════

You walked into work, setting your belongings down and stretching out your shoulders before making your way to the floor. The dim lights of the bar cast a soft glow over the counter, the scent of citrus and liquor lingering in the air from the night's previous rush. Haechan stood behind the bar finishing up with a customer, his movements slow.

When he turned toward you, his tired eyes met yours. You offered him a small smile, but instead of his usual playful smile or greeting, he just stared at you blankly.

"I'm going on break." He muttered, turning away before you could even respond.

You blinked, slightly taken aback by his tone, but shook it off and got to work. When he returned, he seemed a bit more like himself—his posture wasn't as heavy, and he spoke a little more, but the exhaustion still clung to him. His voice remained low, and he couldn't stop yawning between sentences.

"You okay?" You asked once all the customers were taken care of.

"Yeah, I'm just exhausted." He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"It's you who really needs the break, huh?" You teased lightly, hoping to lift his mood a little.

"Yeah." He chuckled, but it was weak and forced. He turned away to wipe down the counter, avoiding your gaze.

"You're not usually this tired— what's going on?" You asked, genuinely curious now.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, still focused on the cloth in his hands.

"Well... working by myself last night didn't help." He muttered.

Your stomach twisted with guilt. "You couldn't find anyone to work with you?"

"Nope."

"Haechan, I'm seriously so sorry. Let me buy you a coffee or something."

"No, you're good." His voice was low, he wasn't mad just drained.

You let it go, working in silence beside him as the night carried on. The bar began to wind down, the crowd thinning as closing time crept closer. You stepped away for a quick break, heading to the bathroom, but as you walked back onto the floor, a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

"I'm a big fan of yours, it's cool that I saw you around here."

Haechan's voice was animated, the tiredness gone replaced by something closer to admiration.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you turned the corner, only to lock eyes with Jisung. You immediately stepped back behind the wall, mentally cursing to yourself.

"Thank you, I really appreciate that." Jisung replied politely before making his way toward the bar toward you.

"Y/n." He greeted you with a small grin.

You rolled your eyes. "You just love coming to my job for absolutely no reason, huh?"

Haechan glanced between the two of you with his brows raised, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as he studied the exchange.

"Can I not want a drink?" Jisung asked, taking a seat on one of the stools directly in front of you. "Vodka lemonade, please."

His smirk was taunting, like he was enjoying the way you flared up at his presence.

"I hate you." You muttered, turning around to make his drink.

"I'm sorry, I may be missing something," Haechan cut in, moving slightly closer to you. "Do you two know each other?"

"I wish we didn't." You muttered, making sure Jisung could hear you.

He only chuckled under his breath. "You didn't say that last night."

Your face burned as you whirled around, shoving his drink toward him a little harder than necessary.

"Okay! Here you go, sir. Now please be quiet."

Haechan's confusion only deepened. He stared at you both before turning to you expectantly.

"This is Jisung." You finally said, introducing him with a tight smile.

"I know." Haechan nodded.

Then you turned to Jisung. "And this is Haechan. One of my closest friends and coworkers— also, the reason we went out last night."

Jisung smirked at you, then at Haechan. "Wow, thank you so much Haechan. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Haechan nodded back, clearly still putting the pieces together. "Yeah... you're welcome?"

Jisung leaned forward on the counter. "Y/n, quickly, hand me a pen and a napkin or something."

"You don't know how to say please anymore?"

"Please." He murmured, his voice low and breathy. The way it sounded sent a shiver down your spine.

You sighed, grabbing a napkin and a pen before handing them over. He signed quickly and slid it toward Haechan.

"I wish I could give you more, but I can't." He said, a little dramatically.

Haechan let out a small laugh, taking the napkin and tucking it into his pocket. "I still appreciate it. Thank you."

"Now." You interrupted. "I think you should be on your way."

Jisung tilted his head, his expression shifting. "I need to talk to you though."

"Well, I'll see you at home in an hour or so." You replied, attempting to brush him off.

"At home?" Jisung echoed, his brows raising slightly.

"Yes. My apartment where I reside, so it's my home. I will see you at home." You maintained your serious tone, making Jisung chuckle.

"Right, I'll see you at home." He said, sliding a $20 bill across the counter before standing up.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Haechan turned to you.

"You didn't tell me you knew the lead guitarist of Black Horizon." He said, his expression unreadable.

"I mean, it's not something you just bring up in casual conversation." You replied. "I didn't even know before you went to the concert."

Haechan narrowed his eyes slightly. "Are you two like... dating?"

"No, no." You said quickly. "Not at all. We're just friends."

Haechan studied your face. "And how did that happen?"

"We used to be best friends when we were younger." You said, but your voice was softer now.

"That's sick. Glad you stuck together, you have excellent taste in friends." He said, finally turning away.

You hummed in response, but a lump settled in your stomach. You didn't really stick together.

When you finally got home, Jisung's car was parked in front of the complex. He leaned against it, arms crossed as he watched you approach.

"Took you long enough." He sighed.

"I'm so sorry that me working is inconveniencing you." You replied sarcastically.

He let out a short laugh before rubbing the back of his neck. "Listen... there's something I need to tell you."

You paused, something about his tone making your stomach tighten.

"Are you not coming in?" You asked.

"We both know how that's gonna turn out." He replied, his eyes a bit wide as he gave you a face.

You couldn't help but giggle before shaking your head. "Ok, what is it?"

"I'm not going to be around for a while." He said carefully. "The band's touring in another country for the next few months, and after that... we have to go straight into working on the next album."

"So... you're leaving?" You asked, voice quieter than before.

He hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, I am."

You forced a smile, though it didn't reach your eyes. "Right. Well... I guess this is goodbye."

Jisung looked at you for a long moment before sighing. "Yeah. I'll see you when I see you."

And with that, he got into his car and drove off, leaving you standing there in the dim glow of the streetlights, watching him disappear all over again.

══════════════════════════

Jisung had been gone for a few months now, but it never really felt like he had left.

No matter where he was, no matter how far, you never failed to call, never missed a day to text. Sometimes it was just a simple "good morning" or a half asleep voice memo when one of you were too tired to type.

You were just about to head out the door for work when your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Jisung [5:48 pm]: "Hey, wyd?"

You glanced at the time, thumbs moving across the screen as you typed back.

You [5:51 pm]: "About to head to work, what's going on?"

Jisung [5:52 pm]: "I won't bother you, just have a good day at work."

You frowned at the message, pausing with one hand on the doorknob. He never texted like that.

You [5:54 pm]: "That's a first lol. Seriously, is everything okay? I'm getting worried."

Jisung [5:55 pm]: "Yea everything's cool. I was just curious lol."

Your brows furrowed as you stared at the screen for a second longer. You knew Jisung well enough to tell when something was off, but you didn't have time to pick at it right now. With a small huff, you slipped your phone back into your pocket and headed out.

The bar was already buzzing with low chatter and music by the time you arrived. Haechan greeted you with his usual smirk, wiping down a glass absentmindedly. These days, you and him had grown closer.

"How's the night been so far?" You asked, setting your bag down and tying your apron.

Haechan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. "Here by myself, no one to talk to, so not so good. Thanks for asking."

You blinked at him, tilting your head. "No, Haechan."

He gave you an innocent look. "No, what?"

You giggled, shaking your head. "I meant the customers— is it busy?"

His mouth fell open in fake shock. "Oh, I thought you were checking up on me. You know, because I was working alone and you were late."

You stared at him with narrowed eyes as he barely held in a laugh.

"I was only five minutes late."

"Ah, time is money, money is time. Get to work." He said, tossing a cloth in your direction.

You caught it mid air with a dramatic sigh, looking at him before fluttering your eyes, your voice sweeter. "Haechan, don't be like that."

He stared at you for a second unimpressed before scoffing. "Whatever. We get it, you're pretty, just occupy yourself."

The shift passed in a blur. Eventually, the rush died down, and the atmosphere grew quieter, more relaxed. This was always one of your favorite part of the night—the moment where you and Haechan had the most fun.

"You're wiping oddly slow." Haechan noted, watching you over your shoulder.

You turned, leaning against the counter. "And you're talking oddly fast... and a lot."

"Oh, I'm talking a lot?" He said, smirking.

"Yeah, you're talking a lot. Do your job."

"Oh yeah? I need to do my job?" He poked your side suddenly, making you jolt.

"Haechan, stop." You giggled, twisting away as his finger jabbed at your ribs.

"Am I interrupting something?"

The deep voice cut through the air, sending a jolt down your spine. You turned quickly, your stomach sinking as your eyes landed on the figure sitting at the bar, his hat pulled low.

"Jisung?"

He tilted his head up slightly, his face partially shadowed, but you could see the his expression.

Haechan glanced between the two of you before nodding to himself. "I have to go do something, I'll leave you two." His voice was casual, but as he moved past you, his hand brushed your waist—subtle, but noticeable.

Jisung's gaze followed him, a flicker of something passing through his eyes.

"Hm, that was weird." He muttered, finally looking back at you.

You hesitated for a second before shaking your head with a small laugh. "Jisung, what are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were coming back."

"It was a surprise." He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the counter before nodding toward where Haechan had disappeared. "You know, this doesn't seem too professional."

You blinked before realizing what he meant. A smirk tugged at your lips. "Jisung, are you jealous?"

His eyes flickered up to yours, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

"No." He replied simply, but the way his fingers drummed against the counter told a different story.

You grinned, leaning in just slightly. "Mhm, sure."

Jisung huffed, shaking his head, but there was something softer in his expression now.

"You're back." You said, voice quieter now. "I missed you."

"Did you really?" He murmured, the corner of his lips curling up a bit against his will.

You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah."

Jisung let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "Well... I guess I missed you too."

You rolled your eyes pretending to be unimpressed, but deep down warmth spread through your chest.

"So." Jisung said, tilting his head. "Are you gonna serve me a drink, or do I have to watch you flirt with your coworkers all night?"

"Jealous." You smirked elongating the word, reaching for a glass.

"No." He said, but this time his voice lacked conviction, and somehow that made you smile even more.

"Ah, right." You giggled, sliding him the drink. "Well, I'm glad you came to visit."

And after, that became the routine. Jisung would do whatever he had to do during the day, but at night he was here.

First, it was just stopping by for a drink. Then, it was sitting there while you and Haechan closed everything out and of course, it always ended the same way—going home with you after work.

You never talked about it, but the pattern was clear. The moment you locked up for the night he'd be waiting, shoulders relaxed, an expectation between the two of you.

Tonight though, something was off.

Jisung never showed up before closing, so you didn't think much of it. You did what you always did—finished cleaning up with Haechan and got lost in conversation and somehow, that conversation led back to Jisung.

"Can you tell your boyfriend to hurry up and drop the album? I'm craving some new yearning music." Haechan teased, leaning on the counter with an amused grin.

"Oh, my boyfriend?" You scoffed, tossing the rag over your shoulder. "You like him more than I do. He's your boyfriend."

"I wish." He muttered, eyes widening playfully before bursting into laughter.

"Ew, Haechan oh my god." You nearly choked on your own laughter.

"I'm just saying." He shrugged, still grinning.

Before you could respond, the door swung open with a sharp creak.

"Sorry, we're closed." Haechan called out without glancing towards the person, the two of you still giggling.

"You do not want Jisung as a boyfriend." You joked, turning back to wipe the counter, only for the smirk on your face to vanish completely when your eyes locked onto him.

Your stomach dropped. Jisung stood there, his frame relaxed, his face unreadable, but there was something sharp in his gaze as he stared at you.

"Ouch." He said.

You froze. Your mind scrambled between apologizing or pretending nothing happened, but no words came out.

"Welp." Haechan placed a hand on your shoulder, glancing between the two of you. "You got that."

With that, he disappeared into the back, leaving you and Jisung standing in a thick, suffocating silence.

Jisung took a step forward, resting his hands in his pockets. "You're not gonna say hello?" His brows lifted slightly.

You swallowed. "Hello."

"Hello." He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "You don't want me as a boyfriend?"

"That was a joke, we were just joking." You forced out, letting out a nervous laugh, though your voice cracked slightly.

Jisung tilted his head. "Oh, so you do want me as a boyfriend?"

"No." Your answer was immediate, his expression faltering for a second. "We already talked about this, so you know the answer to that."

"Right." He nodded, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek before finally dropping into a seat at the counter. "I want a vodka lemonade."

"Well, you're gonna have to get that from somewhere else. You heard Haechan, we're closed."

Jisung exhaled dramatically. "Ah, bummer." He clicked his tongue. "Forgot we follow Haechan's rules now."

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you leaned in, elbows resting on the counter. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, he's all you talk about these days— Haechan this, Haechan that."

You blinked. "Well, I talk to him a lot."

"You talk to me too." He countered, fingers tapping against the counter. "Do you talk about me that much?"

You smirked. "You just heard me talking about you."

Jisung went quiet for a moment, staring at you before shrugging. "I guess."

Before you could say anything, Haechan peeked out from the back. "Am I intruding?"

You smiled. "No, of course not."

Jisung shot you a look before dropping his gaze to the counter.

Haechan grinned. "Sorry to say, but I kinda expected you to come tonight, so I brought a CD."

Your brows lifted. "Where did you even get that from?"

"I've had it." He shrugged. "Do you think you could sign it? It would mean the world to me."

Jisung barely lifted his head. "No, not allowed."

Bullshit. He just told you a few days ago he spent fifteen minutes signing things for fans after getting swarmed.

You grabbed the CD and marker from Haechan, slamming them onto the counter in front of Jisung. "Sign it."

His eyes lifted, visibly irritated. "I can't." His voice was louder now.

"Jisung." Your tone was firm. "Sign it."

His jaw clenched before he snatched the marker aggressively, yanking the cap off and scribbling his signature harshly across the CD, before shoving it back at you.

"Since you're gonna fucking die without it." He said pushing back from the counter, storming toward the door, shoving it open and leaving.

Haechan sighed. "I didn't need it if he couldn't do it."

"He's fine." You forced a smile, handing him the CD and marker.

Haechan gave you a look. "You can go talk, if you need to."

"If that's okay with you."

"Yeah, go ahead."

You stepped outside, and the scent of cigarettes instantly surrounded you.

"I know you're still here you big crybaby." You rounded the corner, finding Jisung leaning against the wall, cigarette dangling between his fingers.

He exhaled slowly, eyes meeting yours.

"What the fuck was that?" You asked, arms crossing.

He stubbed out his cigarette against the wall. "What's going on with you and that guy?"

You groaned. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about." He said, pushing off the wall. "He's all you've been talking about on the phone, now this?"

"Jisung, will you relax?" You said, shaking your head.

"You fucking him or something?"

"That's none of your business."

"I feel like it is though." He shot back. "We have sex—unprotected sex. If you're out whoring around, I need to know that."

You scoffed. "Whoring around? I'm the one whoring around? Don't act all innocent Jisung, I know you fuck other people."

"I don't." He said, stepping closer. "You're the only one."

"Not anymore since I'm such a whore apparently." You said, turning around from him, beginning to walk away.

"I never said that."

You turned, exasperated. "You literally just did."

"Ok look, I'm sorry— but I asked you a question, all you had to do was answer."

"I don't have to do anything." Your voice shook. "We're not together. I don't owe you anything. I don't owe you an explanation. If you're scared I'm whoring around then leave or shut up and get over it."

Silence.

His eyes locked onto yours. You stormed toward him, inches from his face.

"Stop looking at me with that stupid face."

Jisung didn't move.

"Say something."

His lips parted. "I don't owe you any explanation."

Your breathing was heavy, your chest ached, fingers clenched into fists, but before you could react his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you in. His lips crashed onto yours, swallowing whatever words you had left and you melted instantly, fingers tangling in his hair.

His hands tightened, pushing you against the wall, the cold brick cooling your hot back. The kiss was rough, his tongue brushing against yours, his grip possessive.

It wasn't enough.

Jisung broke away, breathless. "Car. Now."

You nodded, and in seconds, you were following him to the parking lot.

When you slid into the backseat, you barely had a moment to settle before he was on you, lips crashing onto yours once more.

His hands found the hem on your shirt, pulling it over your head. His hands lingered back up, landing on your jaw as he pushed your head up roughly, moving down to your neck, kissing roughly before sucking, leaving markings in his wake.

You moaned softly as his hand slid down your body. He unbuttoned your jeans quickly, tugging them down to your knees along with your underwear in the cramped space of the car. The cool air hit your thighs, but his hands were warm.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them slowly while his eyes stayed locked on yours. Then he reached down, parting your folds and running his slick fingers through you, dragging them over your clit before slipping one inside you without warning.

You gasped, your head hitting the back of the seat. He didn't ease in, thrusting hard and fast, his thumb pressing tight circles against your clit. His finger curled just right, hitting that spot again and again knuckle deep, wet sounds filling the space between your moans.

Your hips bucked into his hand, head thrown back and eyes closed chasing every stroke, every flick of his thumb. You were already close, your body clenching around him, desperate for more.

"Look at me." He said, voice low and rough, just before sliding another finger inside you. The stretch made you cry out, your back arching as he moved them fast.

"I'm gonna cum." You gasped, your body already tightening around him, but just as your climax started to rise, his pace slowed.

Your breath caught. "Why are you stopping?"

His eyes narrowed, tone sharp and possessive. "What's going on with you and that guy?"

"Jisung, what are you—" You started, but he cut you off with a sharp thrust of his fingers, rough and deep, forcing a whimper from your throat.

"Tell me." He said. "And I might let you finish."

"Jisung, please." You begged, hips bucking, you were so close it hurt.

"Then talk or I'll stop." He said.

His fingers sped up again, sending you right back to the brink, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, demanding an answer.

"We're just friends. I—I don't like him." You cried out, your head hitting the window as your body trembled under his touch.

"Oh yeah?" He said, darkly amused, his free hand wrapping around your throat pulling you back to him, forcing your eyes on his. "Say it again."

"We're just friends." You gasped, breath hitching as his fingers moved faster inside you.

"I thought it wasn't any of my business." He taunted, voice low and rough. His fingers curled deep, hitting that perfect spot that made your whole body jerk. "What changed?"

"I'm sorry—fuck, I'm gonna—" You could barely speak, the pleasure overwhelming as your stomach coiled tight, your legs beginning to shake.

"Are you?" He said, leaning in closer, his grip on your neck tightening just enough to make you dizzy. His face hovered just inches from yours, lips parted, eyes locked on the way yours fluttered shut.

"Yes." You gasped out, barely holding it together. Your orgasm hit hard, rolling through your body in waves as he kept going, thrusting into you fast and deep, fingers soaked.

"He'll never make you feel like I do." He whispered, watching your face as you came undone for him. "Never."

Your body slumped back against the seat, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. The windows were fogged, your skin still flushed and tingling, your thighs sticky and trembling.

Jisung stayed close, his hand finally slipping out of you, fingers glistening. He looked down at them for a second, then wiped them slowly on your inner thigh teasingly. His other hand loosened around your neck, thumb brushing over the spot where he had held you, gentler now.

Neither of you said anything for a moment. The only sound was your ragged breathing.

Jisung leaned back slightly, eyes still on you as he slid his hand off your thigh.

"Go get your stuff so we can take this someplace else." He said quietly.

You blinked, still trying to steady yourself.

He smirked. "You've got five minutes, don't make me come in there."

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(Part two)- read here

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