#had to split it up into two because it was getting so long omg

[hoseoksluna]

LITTLE JUICE | JJK

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut, pwp

rating: 18+

summary: when you get insecure about being constantly needy for your boyfriend, jungkook shows you that it's okay.

word count: 6.4k

warnings: the plot is TEENY TINYYYY in this one, pure filth, mirror sex, dd/lg, little space, new roles for the wine universe omg, jungkook is a caretaker, pet names, degradation kink, praise kink, dry humping, they're so in love it's sickening, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), fingering, squirting, daddy issues, heavy dom/sub dynamics, handjob, penetrative sex without condom, cowgirl, plushies used in a sexual situation.

luna's note: i'm so sorry i couldn't get this out for you on xmas day since i was so sick, but let this be a gift for the new year! i missed writing smut sooooo much, and i can't wait to get back to it starting january. this was so fun omg. i missed wine sm. my daddy issues be daddy issuing so this has something new in it, i'm super excited abt it!! i hope you like this and that you enjoy reading. make sure to let me know what you think in my ask box!! mommy luna is baaaaackkkkkkk. HAPPY NEW YEARRRRR. <3 (one day early but i felt like saying it idc) BIG MWAH.

luna's necessary side note: i missed u all so damn much wtf. OH, AND HAPPY BDAY TAEHYUNGGGGGG.

𓂃 ౨ৎ

taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster, 

@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 

@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo

The mirrors, lining the walls, are nearly all fogged up once you take a step inside the vast rehearsal room. A certain mellow, yet familiar song led you towards the right door—one that made your ears perk up in curiosity because it reminded you of something you’d heard a long time ago, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not until you rearranged your bobas into the crook of your elbow and slid open the door. 

The stuffiness of the room only added to the sensual aura of the song, and your legs nearly gave out on you. 

No BS by Chris Brown.

The song that started it all.

Jungkook, clothed in black from head to toe, seems to be locked in his own world as he moves his body in the center of the room, his chest and feet hitting each beat without a singular mistake or a misstep. And when the chorus of the song flows in, his whole figure follows suit. It rolls into the rhythm like the slowest, most passionate wave of the sea that splits in the middle and begins to course down your sternum. Your cheeks darken with a feverish tint. You feel every inch of his movements inside you as if he were there, and when Jungkook spins and sinks to his knees, propping only one Nike-shod foot on the floor, and he hip-thrusts before he continues those rippling motions to the last beats, the muscles of your thighs quiver on reflex and your dampened private parts flutter.

You did not expect to see that when you texted Jungkook you were going to visit him just because you finished work early and you could get boba before your favorite shop closed. You feel as though you just got blessed twice. 

TGIF, indeed. Never in your life had you ever thought you’d celebrate the work week ending like you are right now—with two bobas in your arm, cooling your heated skin, and with your eyes witnessing erotically angelic artistry in a humid room. And with your sensitive parts outright dripping, too, because the song ends, enveloping the room in a silence that welcomes in Jungkook’s heavy breathing as he slumps back onto his back, his chest lifting and falling in the air. 

You feel fuzzily faint. He made you wet in record time and he hasn’t even touched you. Nor has he looked at you. 

Instinctively, your hand grasps your mango boba and you press it against the side of your face. Smile to yourself as a lightbulb flicks to life in your mind. 

Leaving behind your purse, you take both of the delightful treats and walk over to him. His eyes are closed as he’s absolutely unaware of your presence, your steps soft and sly. His round, sweat-splotched nose puffs out hard breaths that move through you and you coo to yourself silently before you place both of your feet on either side of him. You squat down, careful not to let your bum touch his lap, and you get his boba ready, placing your own on the ground. And with the loudest roar you can muster, you press the drink to his glistening cheek. 

He yelps. His fear-filled eyes fly open, his hands quick to catch you as you tumble down on him in reaction, your lungs submerging the room in your obscenely loud giggles. Tears of laughter cloud your vision, preventing you from seeing the horror twisting his face, but the little you saw was enough to douse your body in extraordinary elation. The tapioca inside the long cup swirls as it swims ferociously in the thick, violet liquid, mimicking the roundness and the blackness of his pupils with utmost perfection. 

You swipe a finger under your eye, speckles of your glitter smearing its pad. You lean down, your laughter subdued as it slowly fades out, and you can see the horror smoothing out and transforming, seamlessly, into a relieved adoration that taps against your heart. You kiss him with the boba now cooling your cheek as well. Leave behind a hard peck on his perspiration-coated mouth that makes him softly hum into this physical exchange of love, and just before you draw away, he breathes out against you with his nose. And that doesn’t just tap on your heart, it knocks on it most warmly. 

You love him so much. Too much. So much that the simplest of his body and human reactions make you feel things. Things that normal girls don’t normally feel. 

Good thing you’re not a normal girl. 

You’re a messed up girl. And you’re a girl in love. Have been for the past year. 

“You scared the shit out of me.” 

Your mouth widens into a pleased grin, and the light bulb that shone in a bright yellow melts into a warm, dusky pink tinge that floods your spine—only because he squeezes the dip of your waist that you’ve been working hard at carving out. A new thing you’ve implemented into your daily routine after you’ve gotten a new job that doesn’t allow you to fuck him all day long like you used to. The sex has gotten even better with time as the wine of his love ripened and matured. To such an extent that you found yourself craving it more than you had in those times when you were just seeing him for sex. Two rounds aren’t enough for you—and you remember well that after two rounds you were usually too exhausted to even keep your eyes open. Now, because you have matured too, your vessel for his love and his liquid stars has grown, needing more to feel satisfied to the fullest. The new job kept you away from him, the long hours teased you. So much that your bathroom breaks were too frequent and obvious and you spent them locked in a bathroom stall with one hand in your panties and your other holding your phone to your ear while Jungkook guided you, his hand, too, in his pants, locked in the same place on the other side of the line, whispering encouraging, lewd instructions that sent you shaking over the edge in mere minutes. 

Instructions that got him in trouble at his workplace, hence why he had to come up with a solution. Because your thirst was never quenched in minutes. His voice was too pretty, and too soft. 

Gym five times a week for you, dance lessons for him, physical distance for the both of you. A perfect solution for a perfect problem. All that sexual frustration was released during those exercises filled with delicious pain and you went to work the next day free of that carnal lust swishing in your veins. You focused on your work, and you didn’t have to take long bathroom breaks. You didn’t even need a spare pair of panties in your purse anymore.

It worked—and it’s completely crazy to you that all it took for you to break your public purity streak was seeing him dance like that. 

You sit up and with your swift movement, the squelching sound of your cunt rubbing up against your juices sounds out across the room. Your cheeks heat up with a different shade of red as embarrassment runs down your spine, especially as Jungkook’s brows twitch upwards and his eyes widen, his large hands lowering down a little, following the curve of your figure that leads to his favorite part of you. 

Your hips. 

A blush scatters upon his cheeks, too. He heard it. 

He calls out your name, sweeping his tongue across his abruptly dry and chapped bottom lip. Your name, not princess, not baby. Your government name without any embellishment of adoration. 

You’re in trouble. 

Your embarrassment pinches you at the two dimples on the small of your back. “Y-yeah?” 

Jungkook opens his mouth, but he pauses for a moment. As if he could sense where the emotion touched you, his long and warm fingers find its icy traces that it left behind while still keeping the crooks of his thumb anchored on your hip bones. 

“Did you get wet for me?” 

A shiver cascades down the slender column of your back, a visible one for his eyes to see that coax out his softness for you, evident in the roundness of his bottom lip that he juts out, triggering your unprecedented shyness. What a drastic shift of dynamic in your relationship you perceive this to be. All along, for a year long, the atmosphere of your shared love has been nothing but an environment of safety, where you could unfold your sexuality as naturally and confidently as you wanted to without an ounce of coyness. Introduce an unyielding desire and a well-meaning solution for it into the equation and watch the change bloom. 

For some reason, you’re reminded of his past, now distant, liking of a certain degradation kink that once grew like vines across your intimate relations with him. The memories travel along your veins—the vulgar pet names, the calling out, the rough handling—and crest at your core, moistening the center of your panties even more as your walls pull in. And the way Jungkook takes that bottom lip between his teeth divulges to you quite clearly that he feels it. 

Which is a bad thing because you can’t lie about it. 

But… you can’t divert his attention from it. 

You slosh his drink in your hand. “I got you your favorite,” you chirp, the boba twirling beneath your hand while his identical pupils remain unmoving, unblinking, fixed on you. You manage a smile, but its staticness crumbles as soon as you realize that Jungkook isn’t really influenced by your change of topic. “Taro boba. I got a milk one, too. Mango. You wan—”

His hands descend down to your thighs, squeezing, halting the tide of your words, the progression of your trick. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt and before you know it, he lifts you just a little bit to maneuver you and make you sit on the shaft of his semi. A low gasp gushes out of your throat as well as a leak of your dew not only onto the fabric of your underwear but onto the material that now clings to his manhood. 

He twitches, hardening beneath your pussy, and gooseflesh pricks your skin. 

“Mango? You always get Taro with me.” 

The glitter from your eye make-up that you smeared across his cheek during your kiss twinkles underneath the dimmed light and he doesn’t guide your hips to move against him. No, he rolls his own—ever so slowly, ever so discreetly. His hands merely hold you down, but nothing about it is forceful. Subdued pleasure springs up your sternum, pooling in your head, making you woozy as quickly as if he were pouring booze down your throat. And when he heightens the pressure enough that he twitches again, you recognize he’s doing the same move that is a part of the choreo he was practicing. 

Your heart hammers against your chest. Your nipples pebble against your cotton top, and Jungkook’s eyes fly to them, catching and taking in their aroused state, perhaps even coaxing it out of them. 

A sigh leaves his mouth. He fists the hem of your skirt, dipping his head into the current of the pleasure he’s giving both of you, and so do you. 

You just can’t help it; you can’t fight it. When your toe touches the surface of the wine of your shared love, nothing can keep you from taking a dip. And the same applies to Jungkook, too. In this case, he’s dripping in red, having slipped entirely into the current, one arm out of the water, fingers wrapped around your ankle, pulling you into the water. 

And something about his desire lessens your strange coyness. His lack of solution offering brings down the stigma, setting you free. And you missed him. You missed him terribly. Haven’t felt his dick in five fucking days. 

You place your hands on top of his. 

A small fire begins to burn within the snug blackness of his eyes. All of a sudden, the noises he stifled come out in soft, almost inaudible growls that cause your clit to throb and your nails to dig half-moons into the skin of his hands. A green light from you for him to enjoy this—and he does. Jungkook throws his head back, his pretty chin pointing to the ceiling, and his big chest heaves. 

It is only at this moment that his eyes leave yours just to bask in this forbidden pleasure. 

Anyone could walk in—the doors aren’t locked, nor are they shut at all. Anyone could think the practice room is available for personal use, without a single soul present. And anyone could see you riding the horsey because the sight of him lost in the vivacity of it all forces you most carnally to give him more. 

You hump him. 

“My friend got it the other day and she said it was delicious,” you breathe out, speaking of your unordinary choice of boba. The movements of your hips are small, minuscule, but hard enough that his knuckles get painted with a shade of ivory that sprinkle your chest with little shocks of joy and pride. A thick vein bulges on the side of his throat as Jungkook tries his best not to let out the entirety of his noises that his body is brimming with—and for that very reason, you grab his hands and place them very brattily on your perked, full breasts. “I wanted to try it and see for myself.” 

This feels good. This feels like the time before you got older and greedy. And the feeling is validated when Jungkook whisks his eyes back at you and grapples your tits, squeezing them so hard that it’s you who bites their bottom lip until you nearly draw blood, your body set on fire with a blue desire that kisses his big hands with such roughness that he whimpers. 

But the moment is ruined all too soon. 

A myriad of high-pitched voices is carried through the thick air, accompanied by giggles. You gasp, looking behind you, and before you know it, you’re up on your feet and Jungkook’s unopened boba is knocked to the side, now rolling sideways towards the mirror. 

You go to fetch it, but a strong hand on your arm prevents you from doing so. You spring back to your place in front of him and you glance up at him in confusion just to see him frowning down at you. 

Sweat drips down his temple. The tips of his brows almost meet in the middle, but swim away and relax at the sight of your puzzlement. The voices grow louder, your breath hitches in your throat and Jungkook’s hand lifts and pets down the back of your head, awakening the butterflies in your tummy as if he’s done it for the first time in your life. 

A yearning to kiss him consumes you. 

“Stay here,” Jungkook murmurs, keeping his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. “If they see us like this, they’ll walk away.” 

You nod, understanding if you were to do as you wished, the girls would’ve taken it as a sign to enter the room and perhaps mingle. But if they see you stuck in an intimate moment like this, they quietly and quickly leave without any unnecessary fuss. 

Smart man. 

“I’m also so fucking hard that I can’t even hide it,” he continues, lowering his tone even more. It penetrates you, making your clit thrum, and as your grin blossoms, so does a romantic shade of blush across your cheeks. You envelop your arms around his torso, propping your chin on his chest, radiate your love up to him, and Jungkook smiles down at you. “As per usual.” 

He kisses your forehead, lingering there for a beat longer before he lifts his head and focuses his gaze at the situation at the door. You don’t care much because you dwell on the hot and cold sensation he left in his wake from the warmth of his mouth and the iciness of his lip ring—something you’ll never get used to and something that will always ruin your panties. 

“They’re gone.” 

And so is he. Off to shut the door and lock it, peeking through the little rectangular window to check if anyone is around. Once the coast is clear, you sense him behind you as you bend to pick up his knocked off boba and you stumble upon his gaze in the mirror as soon as you straighten your spine. 

A hungry look is wrung into his features. 

The corners of his eyes droop in arousal, narrowed as they are. His pupils are blacker than the tapioca in your hands. His teeth nibble on his bottom lip impatiently and you flutter all over, taking in his state and his large stature towering above you. You could melt into him and never be found again, hidden in the crevices of his body that you still believe are there for you. Hidden forever, safe and sound. 

He’s delicious through and through—and it’s been five days since you last had a taste of him. 

Five torturous days. 

“You must be thirsty after all that dancing,” you say, breathless and thirsty yourself. His chest heaves, colliding into your back, and all those soft crevices of him touching you brings you back into that ravenous, greedy state you can’t get out of so easily. Dangerous, he is. Utterly, utterly dangerous. Erasing your clean streak like that. “Let me open it for you.” 

You go to turn around and fetch his straw from your purse, but he doesn’t let you. He encages you where you are by a mere placement of his hand on your hip, fingers back to gripping the fabric of your skirt. He can rip it off if he likes—he can buy you a new one and make your heart elated anytime. 

The idea hardens your nipples, making a show for him all over again. 

He pushes you flush against him, earning a sultry gasp from you. The fingers that gripped your skirt elongate across your mound while the other graze your chin, elevating it a little, ensuring a strong eye contact. 

You flutter. Can’t take it anymore. He has to take you home and fuck the shit out of you before you— 

“I am thirsty,” he purrs, his lips borderline touching yours. “But for something other than bubble tea. Care to guess what it is?” 

Your breath lodges in your throat. You know well what he means, but out of habit and out of personal pleasure you pretend to be dumb. You want to hear him say it—you want him to be as detailed as he was during those naughty afternoon phone calls that got him in trouble with his boss, who told him off for having long work breaks. You want him, his filthy mouth and even filthier, condescending manners. 

You want the old times—and for the sake of your desire, you remain silent. Twist your brows in feigned confusion. Widen your eyes a little. Puff out your cheeks. 

Your adorableness makes him twitch against your hip. Jungkook sucks in a breath. Takes the hand that caressed your chin and glides it down your neck, your chest, your stomach that flexes under his touch until he winds up at the waistband of your skirt. There he stops and he tilts his head to the side, sweeping his tongue along the pillow of his bottom lip. 

“What I want,” he starts, his breathing quickening. “Is the little juice that is in here.” He skims the pads of his fingers down your mound, beneath the hem of your skirt and along the sopping surface of your clothed feminine flesh. You mewl, your hips instinctively riding his fingers, following the sailing, back and forth motion. Your adorableness deepens with the influence of the sudden pleasure by the way it scrunches up your features and Jungkook whimpers again, stopping his motions when he feels you timidly soak his fingers. “I want it so bad that I can’t go one more minute without it.” 

You glance down more to see how big of a mess you’re making on his hand, but as attuned as he is to his role, brought about by his arousal, Jungkook takes your breath away with his following actions. 

He moves you closer to the mirror. Bunches up your skirt even higher so you have a perfect view of your panties, which have a large wet spot in the middle. Little rivulets of your juices flow out of their confines and down your inner thighs, proceeding to make a puddle on the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Jungkook’s fingers are shiny in the light, coated in your lustfulness, and he drifts them up and down that stain—over your swollen clit and sensitive lips. 

“See? Here. This little wet princess part of you is what I crave.”

And just like that, owing to his words, you flourish into the little girl you haven’t been safely dwelling in for months, sliding into that role as easily, tenderly and meekly as if you were slipping your feet into your fluffy slippers. You regress, beautifully, making sweet little noises into his neck as you go to hide in there, poking his drink into his hand, silently telling him to take it while you rub your sticky thighs together, eager to get the uncomfortable throbbing feeling away. And he does, solid in his own caretaker role, sinking down onto his knees, placing the drink on the floor against the mirror. But he remains there, looking up at you, eyes big and round, yet still steady, sure, mature and irrevocably dependable. And you sense those eyes to be telling you to take your panties off and give the Daddy what he craves. 

You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear and drag it down past the middle of your thighs, letting him handle the rest, but you catch his eyes watering ever so gently—and the discovery causes your heart to skip a beat. He’s taken in the role you’ve slipped into, having watched it happen in real time in all its glory, and perhaps he’s nostalgic, or perhaps he’s just euphoric, but he takes the time to bask in it all. 

And he kisses the cotton fabric of your panties first before he kisses the soft flesh of your thigh. Drags it down. Lets it pool in his hands at your ankles. Peeks up at you. 

“The way you willingly give yourself over to me never fails to mesmerize me,” he purrs, pressing another kiss to your thigh without taking his eyes off of you. Your stomach jumps, energy-charged butterflies scurrying to the front of your stomach in longing to kiss him, too. “You’ve been feeling bad about being needy for me. Worked hard for weeks to be a good girl, but what you don’t know, princess, is that you were a good girl even when you called me up at work asking for me,” he continues, lips brushing against your skin with every pronounced vowel. He edges around your knee and begins to pepper gentle, wet kisses there. Your mouth falls open—and you discover this place is a spot of more sensitivity than your neck. You double over, grabbing a tight hold of his tousled, yet soft hair, and Jungkook moans against you. “And you’re a good girl right now for giving yourself over to me, even when you’re so careful about being horny for me in public.” 

Your body forces out the same kind of noises, so tender and pained, your heart rapidly kicking against your ribcage. Your arousal is heightened by his words carrying such devastating praise, even when the most inert core of you aches for such different debauchery—the very opposite of what he’s giving you. 

You leak for him, nonetheless. 

Unable to take it anymore, Jungkook cradles your ankles and carefully rids you of your ruined panties, half-stuffing them into the front pocket of his jeans. A tiny bit of the pink fabric sticks out of it and the sight intoxicates you, pulling you deeper into your little space. Even more so when he finishes his praise because he wasn’t done yet. Not quite. 

“And to see you be little for me so prettily again after such a long time,” he husks, spreading your legs far apart enough to see that gleaming rivulet make its way down the inner of your thigh. “That makes me the happiest man in the world, princess. I missed you. God, I missed you.” 

Jungkook leans in and, with his tongue flat against your inner thigh, he collects the little juice you leak for him. He moans at the taste, but the sound is broken by a cry marked by yearning for more. He doesn’t stop there—he delves immediately, without sparing a second, into your lap with such a verve that your back crashes against the still fogged up mirror. His mouth seizes your clit, making kissing sounds as he laps and sucks at it with a hunger that could never be replicated in the arts. You grip his hair tighter for support, almost sliding down the mirror while struggling to contain your noises, the pleasure permeating every inch of your body that is ultimately submitted to him. The pressure of the delight he’s giving you deepens when he places one of your thighs on his shoulder, helping you take it while he continues to moan into your pussy and eat her like she deserves. 

But you can’t take it. Not at all. Not when he begins to flick his tongue on your clit in a way that he does. 

Your foot slips, but Jungkook is in control. He makes sure you land on your bum safely and painlessly, not once ripping his mouth off your cunt. His eyes continue to be steady, fixed on you, narrowed into such thin, alluring slits that it hastens your sweet release. You hiccup as you take little breaths, overwhelmed by it all. Your cheeks burn, and the fire spreads down your limbs, leaping over to your boyfriend at work, who glows with a rosy tint. Jungkook pulls away a little bit, dripping in arousal and perspiration, and he allows you to see his technique in all its glory. 

The tip of his tongue stimulates your engorged clit with rapid, hard flicks. 

Your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jungkook pushes your legs all the way back until you’re a squished mochi that he can’t get enough of, and when he puts a bigger pressure on your little bud, it is your absolute undoing. 

Closer and closer, the orgasm takes over you completely. From the top of your head to your little toes that flex in your sneakers, you begin to shake uncontrollably as the highest level of the delight bursts upon your body. Jungkook’s noises grow in volume simultaneously, enraptured as he is by the view of his created paradise unfolding over you—and he never stops looking at you. 

Not even as you come down from your high. 

Not even as he, with your little juice dripping down his chin, turns you around and stacks one of your feet on the mirror while he keeps the other leg back with his hand. His limbs surround you, and as you blink through the blinding fog of your orgasm, you realize that you accidentally managed to match your shoes with his. High Nike dunks, black. The ones he got for you as well when he bought a pair for himself. 

Your hole clenches in the mirror. A stream of your little juice makes a larger puddle on the floor beneath you. 

“Look at you dripping for me, fuck.” 

Hooking your leg over his right limb, he strums your entire feminine flesh with the four of his fingers, the squelching and squeaking sounds of your pussy pulling a tortured groan out of him as if he hadn’t gotten a taste of you a mere minute ago. His other hand sneaks to your tits to feel them up, stopping at your pebbled nipple, which he fondles as he breathes against you, inhaling your scent. Your hips buckle, your drenched seashell sensitive from his feast, and Jungkook lets out a pleased chuckle. 

“My pretty little pussy. Always so sensitive from all my love, huh?” 

You nod, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and Jungkook grins before he places a fat, rewarding kiss to your cheek, the two of his fingers, middle and ring, one of them adorned with that white Miffy plastic ring, starting a series of circles on your clit. 

Your hips buckle again, the pleasure soft yet dizzying, overwhelming your senses. Jungkook tightens his grip around you, squeezing your breast. 

“Whose pussy is this, princess?” 

In the middle of it all, a light bulb flicks to life once again in your woozy mind. And a pleased smile, just like his, begins to grow on your mouth. But Jungkook is impatient and you’re not responding fast enough for his taste, so he lifts his soaked fingers and uses them to grip your mouth. 

There it is. 

“I asked you a question. Whose pussy is this?” 

You’d bite your lip if he weren’t squishing your cheeks together, but your satisfied smile reaches your eyes, crinkling them. That causes him to relax his hold and give you a chance to give him the answer he seeks. 

Little does he know you’re about to manipulate him into giving you the sin that you desire. 

“This slutty little pussy is yours. Yours and no one else’s, Dada.” 

His brows twitch and light unrolls across his face, softening his features in a way you’ve never seen before. He curses, momentarily rolls his eyes back, and he plunges his wet fingers into his mouth before he seizes your mouth in a compulsive kiss that thoroughly shuts off your brain. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you comprehend he licked off his fingers and didn’t swallow only so you could get the treat he had himself—because he busies his fingers by burying them inside your fleshy heat. 

And he fucks you hard and doesn’t stop even when you begin to make intense little noises into his mouth. 

You struggle to kiss him back when he curls his fingers and pistons into you with rapid jerks from this angle. His other hand tugs your top upwards, finds its way into the cups of your bra just so he could pinch and rub your nipple in the way that you like. And when his tongue flicks against yours and his mouth purses softly against yours before he deepens the kiss, your orgasm hits you so unexpectedly that you’re as surprised as him once you come apart all over not just his hand, but the mirror, too. 

You splatter it with your little juice and even then, Jungkook doesn’t stop. Growling with heavy breaths, he strums your clit as fast as he can until there’s nothing left you can give to him. 

You slump against him, high on the complexity of yours and his aphrodisiac love. Specks of your glitter—your small shooting stars gravitate down to your flushed cheeks, and then his fingers are in your mouth, traveling far down and deep until you grace him with the sound he likes. You gag around them and he nods, pleased, smirking. 

“Good girl. Your slutty little juice tastes good, doesn’t it, baby?” he asks, and your stomach springs, your drunken feelings intensified by the fact you finally got what you yearned for. “Your mouth makes me fucking crazy. Dada, slutty pussy. I’m gonna lose my mind.” 

You mewl, your eyes heavy, but you want more—you want his cock, and he can feel it, he knows it. He knows it when he pulls out his fingers and kisses you as if the world was meant to end in the next minute. He knows it because he withdraws and he tells you. 

“Dada’s gonna fuck that slutty little pussy of his, hm?” Jungkook murmurs, and then his zipper is down, and just like the old times—he doesn’t rid himself of his clothes and gives you a brand new world with his strokes just the way he is. 

Fully clothed, with his hard drooling cock poking out of his unzipped jeans. 

He presses you against your wet juices on the mirror, spitting on his hand and lubricating the tip of his manhood. He enters you and you gasp, fogging up the mirror with your breath, and the hand that holds your head steady against the mirror buries into your hair while the other wraps around your hip. He sheathes himself inside you slowly whilst your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of finally being stretched out by him and once he bottoms out, it’s over. 

Your life is over.

“Dada’s pussy always so tight.” 

He pounds into you religiously—creating a new order for this brand new world. Hard, merciless strokes that scramble your brain and turn it into a mush. Your ass ripples with each collision and his noises melt into yours, a hymn for the utopia he’s fucking you into. And then he’s lifting you from the mirror and keeping you flush to himself, staring at you in the reflection while your tits spill out from your bra, bouncing, and Jungkook can’t get enough. Both of his hands drag down your straps, freeing your breasts, and he’s groping them, pinching your nipples without ever stopping the entrancing snapping of his hips. 

“Pretty princess getting fucked. Look at you. So pretty and all mine.” 

And then his Miffy-adorned finger is back on your clit, rubbing hard circles, and your personal world is finished—because your pleasure is his ultimate undoing. 

The smacking of skin quietens and his hips begin to roll—a languid, staccato version of his choreo that got you all needy and wet but an hour ago. Jungkook whimpers into your ear how much he loves you, over and over again, as he stuffs you full of his cum, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your swollen little clit until you come all over his twitching cock. 

And he doesn’t pull away. 

He holds you like this, panting into your neck, his grip still tight, still evoking a sense of safety you won’t find anywhere else. Your drowsy eyelids flit, consider yourself well-spent, and the thought begins to sing a celebratory song in your chest—because all that hard work paid off. 

You’re no longer greedy; you’re gratified after the first round. 

Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck. “We should go before Bunny and Vinny start wondering where we are.” 

The song wraps around your heart, which dissolves at his words. Jungkook pulls himself out of you, but you swivel around and throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. His still erect and wet length brushes against your thigh—and the contact makes you quiver in his arms.

“I feel good,” you explain into his ear. “I don’t need more.” 

Jungkook chuckles. Wants to look at your face and he smooths your hair back, grinning at you. “I’m proud of you, princess, but look,” he says, glancing down. You follow his gaze down and perceive he’s talking about his private parts. “I’m still hard.” 

His cock twitches at his words and twitches once more at the sound of your giggles—happy, happy giggles because the stigma behind your neediness withers and completely disappears, never to be found again, only because Jungkook isn’t embarrassed or afraid to show you he needs more. Your chest becomes light, light enough that you think you grew a pair of wings to fly around the room with.

“Gym, Gguk. You have to hit the gym more often,” you joke, knowing his work out schedule transcends beyond the five days you spend at the place. 

The corner of his mouth curls as mischief twinkles in his eyes, divulging to you that he likes the way you challenge him. 

“Oh yeah?” he questions, lifting his arm, pulling back the oversized sleeve of his T-shirt to flex his biceps. Your cheeks heat up at the strong mountains that appear and your hand can’t help but to knead it. “These aren’t big enough for you, huh?” 

You scoff and shush him at the same time, leaning over to plant a singular kiss to his muscles. Jungkook uses the opportunity to hide you in his embrace and you both sputter into laughs and giggles. He pecks your hair, but something interrupts your sweet moment. 

“Look at the mess you made,” he says, pointing at the mirror, and you gasp when you turn around. 

An imprint of the side of your face is left behind on the reflection. Foundation, mascara and glitter amidst the little pearls and rivulets of your juices. You worry what you look like now if your make-up is smeared to this extent, but it soon is washed away from your mind when Jungkook crawls forward and makes a heart on the wetness of your slick. 

He takes a picture of it and then he cleans it off with his gym towel. The floor, too. 

At home, you fuck him hard for it. 

With his Taro boba in his arm, Vinny on his chest and Bunny in the crook of his other arm, you ride him until your thighs burn and he resembles the prettiest rose you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Having come more than enough on his cock, you jerk him off while you flick your tongue on his tip, and he moans, flushes and convulses until he spills all over your hand and his stomach. Ropes of him cum reach the plushies, too, as he can’t stop coming and, growing feignedly jealous, you swallow him, longing for him to drip down your throat. 

He comes so much that your belly is full and he’s as gratified as you were in the practice room. 

And after a quick shower, you both drift off to your brand new world unexpectedly, the events of the day having exhausted you enough that you fall asleep within the next heartbeat. Vinny and Bunny tumble on in the washing machine while you and Jungkook dance in the new paradise, having stepped into the role of parents having a date without the kids. No stress, no stigma—just the freedom of being loved right. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[cheftsunoda]

Hello! Loved your stories omg! Esp the charles and alex one, Can I request the both of them and reader where the reader is a Medical Intern in Monaco and charles and alex both just happen to be in the hospital that she is interning and they just get so infatuated with her and they come back to the hospital for just some “daily check ups” and bonus if they are together already can you do a part where they are looking for her and the find her in the back part of the ER where there are spare beds there and shes just taking a quick power nap from a long shift hehe Thank you! ❤️

apple a day, keeps the doctor…— cl16 + alexandra

charles leclerc x !medical intern reader x alexandra saint mleux

smau + blurbs

working ER nights in monaco wasn’t glamorous—at least not for you. between back to back trauma cases, endless rounds, and the coffee machine that hated you, most days blurred into one long, sterile headache. that is, until charles leclerc and alexandra saint mleux burst through the emergency room doors one chaotic friday night, arthur leclerc half-conscious between them and bleeding from a nasty head wound. you stitched him up with calm hands and clipped sarcasm, barely registering the way both charles and alexandra were staring at you like you had performed a miracle. since then, they’d returned to the hospital three times in two weeks. once for a “headache that might be a concussion” (arthur was fine), once for “follow-up questions,” and once just to drop off a smoothie “in case you skipped lunch.” every visit came with a new excuse and a new gift — almond croissants, candles, a ferrari hoodie that “just happened to be your size.” you weren’t stupid. you knew what they were doing. but it was getting harder to pretend you didn’t like it. harder to pretend you didn’t want more. from both of them.

fc : random pinterest girlies

(a/n) : hiiiii love. cute idea. i love writing chalex x reader smmmm

POLY FIC TO CELEBRATE MY BIG NEWS YAYYYYY!

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yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and 2,503 others.

yourusername : photos that make me look like ive been getting sleep (i have not) but i worked 87 hours last week :,)

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yourbff : BAD BITCH. period. (tell them to give you some time off) (i feel neglected)

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : girl you’re gonna have to tell them. they don’t gaf what i say🤧

liked by yourbff

↳ yourbff : on my way! plus i want to meet the mystery man and woman 😁

liked by yourusername and alexandrasaintmleux

↳ yourusername : shhhhhh don’t embarrass meeee

liked by yourbff and alexandrasaintmleux

↳ yourbff : no but seriously. on my way with coffee and emotional support :)

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↳ youruserame : life saverrrrrr

↳ yourbff : nah babe. that’s quite literally you.

liked by yourusername and alexandrasaintmleux

yourbrother : since when are you a ferrari fan?

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : since when do you care?

↳ yourbrother : just wondering. get some sleep ugly. you need it

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : smd bitch !

liked by yourbff

username00 : alexandra in the likes?? the ferrari hoodie?? who is this girl??

↳ username1 : she is a doctor in monaco. probably just a friend of alexandra’s.

alexandrasaintmleux : and somehow you still look incredible beautiful 😍

liked by yourusername and yourbff

↳ youruserame : alexxxx you’re making me blush 🤭

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

↳ username0000 : oooooooooo

—

flashback

It starts, like most Friday nights, with chaos. The double doors of the ER slam open behind you and you don’t even bother looking up at first. You’re too busy writing up notes on a dislocated shoulder when someone shouts—

“Excuse me! We need help!”

You sigh, closing your hospital issued laptop, and turn — only to freeze for a split second.

Because that’s Charles Leclerc. As in F1 Charles Leclerc. And he’s holding up a man who’s bleeding from the forehead. Behind him, Alexandra is hovering, visibly panicked and muttering something about a yacht.

“I need a name,” you say, stepping forward and already slipping on gloves.

“Arthur Leclerc,” the patient mutters. “Twenty four. Libra. Single.”

You blink. “Right. Head injury and questionable flirting. Got it.”

“I fell,” Arthur adds dramatically, clutching his head like he’s auditioning for Hamlet.

“I was pushed,” he corrects himself quickly, nodding toward Charles with betrayal in his eyes. “By him. On the yacht.”

“There was a wave!” Charles groans. “You lost your balance.”

“You shoved me.”

“I nudged you.”

“You launched me!”

You sigh again, pointing to the exam table. “If you can argue, you can sit. Let’s patch up the bleeding before we diagnose your childhood trauma.”

Arthur grins at you as he hops onto the table. “Do you usually fix people up with that kind of sarcasm, or am I just special?”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m an intern. I don’t get paid enough to flirt. But if you don’t pass out, I’ll consider it a compliment.”

Alexandra snorts behind you, clearly trying not to laugh. “I like her.”

You gently guide Arthur’s head to the side, inspecting the gash. It’s deep but manageable. “You’re going to need a few stitches. Any nausea? Blurry vision?”

“Only from looking directly at you,” Arthur says, smirking.

You glance at Charles, who looks like he’s about to explode. “Arthur.”

“What?” Arthur says innocently. “She’s hot and she’s touching my face. I’m not made of stone.”

Charles gives you a sheepish smile. “I swear he’s not usually this—”

“Delusional?” you offer.

“Flirty.”

“Trauma does funny things to people,” you murmur as you begin cleaning the wound.

“You seem very calm,” Alexandra pipes up, stepping closer. “Is it always this chaotic?”

“Only when people fall off yachts,” you mutter, trying not to smile.

You feel Charles watching you. Like, really watching you. And not just because you’re stitching up his brother’s forehead.

“You’re good at this,” he says, almost surprised.

You glance up. “Thanks. I’ve had a lot of practice with dumbass adrenaline junkies.”

“You’ll fit in well with this family, then,” Alexandra says lightly, and then blinks, as if realizing what she just said. “I mean—not that—just—”

Arthur groans. “She meant that flirtatiously. God, we’re all embarrassing ourselves.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you finish the last stitch. “You’re fine. And he’s good as new. Well… scarred. But charming.”

“Scarred and charming,” Arthur echoes. “Put that on my resume.”

As you peel off your gloves and hand Arthur the aftercare instructions, you catch all three of them watching you like you’d just rewritten medical science instead of stitched up a forehead. It’s the kind of look that makes your skin feel warm under your scrubs.

“You shouldn’t have much of a scar,” you say, casually. “I learned from the best plastic surgeon we’ve got. Lucky you.”

Arthur gives you a lopsided smile, but it’s Charles who speaks next, stepping forward and offering his hand. “Thank you, Dr…?”

“LN,” you reply, shaking his hand. “Dr. YN LN.”

His grip is firm, but it’s the way his fingers linger just a second too long that makes your heart stutter.

“Nice to meet you, Doctor,” he says, his voice a little lower. “Hopefully next time we see you, no one’s bleeding.”

You open your mouth to reply, but Alexandra beats you to it, smiling softly. “Yeah… I wouldn’t mind a next time either. Preferably injury free. Maybe over coffee instead of stitches.”

She laughs lightly, cheeks pink, and you’re not sure if it’s the ER lighting or if they’re both actually flirting with you.

—

present day

You’re halfway through a chart on a broken wrist when you hear them before you see them.

“I told you I’m fine!”

Arthur’s voice, unmistakably dramatic, echoes through the ER as he stomps toward the front desk, trailed by Monaco’s most glamorous couple—Charles and Alexandra—looking suspiciously guilty and carrying far too many things for a medical emergency.

You glance up, immediately clocking the massive bouquet of flowers in Charles’ hand and the takeaway coffee Alexandra’s holding like a peace offering.

“I swear to God,” Arthur mutters as he catches sight of you, “I said I had a mild headache, and these two dragged me here like I’d lost a limb.”

“Headaches can be a sign of a concussion,” Alexandra says sweetly. “We just wanted to be safe.”

“Also, we brought you a coffee,” Charles adds, smiling at you like he wasn’t obviously using his brother’s brain as an excuse to see you again.

You blink. “Right. So we’re doing this again.”

Arthur drops into the same exam chair from last time with a long suffering sigh. “Apparently, I don’t have autonomy anymore.”

“You said the lights were bothering you,” Alexandra says, gesturing vaguely. “That’s a symptom!”

“I was hungover!”

You try to keep your professional face on. Really, you do. But when Charles hands you the coffee—your name spelled perfectly on the lid—and Alexandra presents the bouquet like a proud contestant on The Bachelor, you lose the battle against your smile.

“Well, at least if this is a concussion, he’ll go down smelling like peonies,” you mutter, already pulling on gloves.

Arthur glares at both of them. “If I so much as sneeze tomorrow, they’ll probably drag me in again and claim it’s internal bleeding.”

You flash him a grin. “I wouldn’t complain too much. If every headache gets you this much attention, you might want to fake one next week.”

“Oh don’t give them ideas,” Arthur groans, flopping his head back as you start the quick neurological check.

Meanwhile, Charles leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with that same quiet intensity.

“So…” he says casually. “When you’re not busy diagnosing non concussions, do you ever take time off?”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that your version of small talk or a poorly disguised date proposal?”

Alexandra perks up beside him. “Could be both.”

You chuckle, making a note in Arthur’s file. “He’s fine. No concussion. Just… tragically dramatic.”

Arthur sits up, victorious. “Thank you. Finally. A sane voice in this situation.”

You hand him a lollipop from your coat pocket. “For being so brave.”

As the three of them start to leave, Charles turns back one last time, walking backwards with a grin.

“We’ll try not to bother you again.”

But you know he’s lying. And part of you kind of hopes he is.

—

You spot them the second they walk through the ER doors. No Arthur this time.

Just Charles and Alexandra, holding nothing but matching sunglasses and the world’s most transparent expressions.

You don’t even look up from the computer when you say, “What fake medical emergency are we pretending exists today?”

Charles smirks. “Technically, we were in the area.”

Alexandra adds, “And we thought we might check in. Just to say hi. Totally casual.”

You give them a flat look. “Right. Monaco’s smallest hospital and this hallway, of all places. How convenient.”

Charles shrugs. “We’re predictable. What can we say?”

You finish typing your note and finally stand. “Okay, well, since you’re here and not bleeding, vomiting, or concussed, you can make yourselves useful.”

They blink. You pull off your coat, glance at the wall clock, and tuck your badge into your pocket. “I’m on break.”

Alexandra’s eyes light up. “Wait. Right now?”

You grab your phone. “There’s a café down the street that makes a solid espresso and doesn’t play music loud enough to rupture eardrums. I was going to go solo, but since you two seem committed to making ER visits part of your weekly schedule…”

Charles stares for a beat before a slow grin spreads across his face. “Are you asking us out, Dr. LN?”

You smirk. “Consider it a professional mercy date. To stop you from dragging your brother back in here every time he sneezes.”

Alexandra laughs as you all walk out together. “We’ll take it.”

The three of you squeeze into a little table near the window, half-shadowed, half-exposed to the soft afternoon sun. You sip your coffee and try to ignore the way Charles keeps subtly leaning closer every time you talk, or how Alexandra watches you like she already knows what you’re going to say next.

“So,” Charles says, stirring his espresso. “If this were a date, how would we be doing?”

You smirk. “Well, you haven’t lied about a fake medical condition yet, so that’s a strong start.”

Alexandra leans in, chin propped on her palm. “And what if we wanted this to be an actual date?”

Your eyes flick between them. They’re both looking at you — seriously now, not just playfully. There’s a warmth there. Something real.

You pause, setting your cup down.

“Well,” you say slowly, “then I’d say I’m free this weekend. And this time, no one gets to show up bleeding.”

Charles raises his cup in a mock toast. “We’ll do our best.”

Alexandra grins. “No promises.”

—

You don’t know what to expect when Charles texts you the address. It’s vague — Don’t worry, it’s not a restaurant. Something a bit better. And he sends a winky face, which does nothing to calm the nervous flutter building in your chest.

You’re not the type to get nervous. You deal with emergencies for a living. You’ve held hearts in your hands—literally. But somehow, a night with Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux is what sends your pulse into orbit.

The building isn’t flashy. Just a quiet, pale stone apartment on a side street with a narrow elevator that creaks slightly as it takes you up. You almost think you’ve gone to the wrong place—until the doors open. The rooftop is glowing.

String lights are draped between beams, twinkling softly above a table set for three. A few scattered candles flicker in glass jars, and beyond the low railings, Monaco stretches out in a blanket of golden lights and ocean shadows. And then you see them.

Charles is in a white linen shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hands stuffed in his pockets like he’s not sure what to do with them. Alexandra, in a silky rust-colored dress that catches the light every time she moves, is already smiling at you like she’s been waiting to all day.

“You came,” Charles says, stepping forward. His smile is soft and just a little unsure.

You nod, taking it all in. “Didn’t realize this was a rooftop Michelin experience.”

Alexandra laughs, looping her arm through yours gently to guide you toward the table. “We figured after the trauma bay lighting, you deserved something a bit softer.”

Charles pulls out your chair with a sheepish shrug. “We cooked.”

“Oh god,” you say, raising a brow. “Do I need to call poison control now or later?”

He laughs, cheeks pink. “Excuse you. Alexandra cooked. I poured the wine and stirred things dramatically.”

“You did,” Alexandra confirms. “He was very proud of his stirring.”

Dinner is warm and easy — some kind of creamy pasta, a salad that Alexandra made you promise to be brutally honest about (you weren’t, it was fine), and a bottle of white wine that Charles says he picked because the label looked “mysterious and vaguely romantic.”

But the real thing is this- the way they look at you. They both do it differently.

Charles listens when you speak like he’s memorizing you—eyes fixed on your mouth, your hands, the soft curve of your smile. He’s still charming and funny, but with a quiet reverence that sneaks into the space between every joke.

Alexandra is gentler—touching your wrist when you laugh too hard at one of Charles’ stories, watching your expression like she already knows it. Like she wants to know it all.

You’re not sure how it happens, exactly. But somewhere between dessert and a second bottle of wine, the conversation softens. Charles is the one who says it first.

“You’re kind of incredible, you know.”

You blink. “Because I make Arthur stop talking for five minutes at a time?”

“Because you… just are,” he says. His voice isn’t flirtatious now. Just honest.

Alexandra nods, her fingers brushing yours across the table. “We didn’t expect to meet someone like you. But we’re really glad we did.”

You look between them—two people who are already so close, so comfortable in each other’s orbit. And yet here they are, making room for you.

Your heart stumbles a little.

You set your glass down. “This is probably the part where I say I don’t usually do this.”

“But you are,” Charles says softly.

You nod. “Yeah. I am.”

There’s a pause—brief but thick with possibility—before Alexandra stands and steps closer to you, her expression open, asking rather than assuming.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

You exhale, chest fluttering.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “It’d be really okay.”

Her lips are warm and soft and unhurried, and when Charles leans in after—gentle, reverent, a hand on your cheek like you’re fragile and important all at once—it feels like falling.

But this time, you want to fall.

—

You wake up before the sun. There’s a soft tangle of limbs wrapped around you — Alexandra’s arm draped over your waist, Charles’ breath warm against the back of your neck. The rooftop date turned into hours of conversation, shared kisses, stargazing, and eventually… here. In the quiet safety of Charles’ bed. Like it was always meant to happen.

But duty calls, and unfortunately, duty doesn’t care that your body is warm and relaxed between two people who might just ruin you in the best possible way. You carefully slip out of bed, trying not to wake either of them. You pad barefoot through the apartment, grabbing your bag and sliding a post it from the kitchen drawer.

You scribble quickly.

Had to run — early shift. Thank you for last night. It was perfect. There’s coffee in the pot (strong — sorry). I’ll probably still be buried in the ER when you wake up. Don’t miss me too much. — YN <3

You leave it next to the two mugs you prepared, one with too much sugar and one with just a splash of oat milk. The sunlight is just starting to spill over the buildings as you slip out the door.

—

It’s nearing 9 PM when Charles and Alexandra step into the ER.

They’re dressed down — Charles in a hoodie and cap, Alexandra in a soft cardigan and sneakers, both of them clutching takeaway bags filled with real food, not vending machine coffee and graham crackers.

The hospital is quieter now, but the fluorescent lights still buzz, and nurses are moving quickly between rooms. Alexandra spots the nurse at the desk and steps forward.

“Excuse me,” she says kindly. “We’re looking for Dr. LN?”

The nurse squints. “She’s still on shift? Poor thing. She hasn’t left the floor all day.”

Charles frowns. “Do you know where she is?”

The nurse nods and gestures toward an empty exam room down the hall. “Think she crashed in there between consults. Didn’t even get lunch.”

They walk quietly through the corridor until they reach the room. The door’s ajar, and what they find inside makes both of them melt on the spot.

You’re curled up on the small sofa, still in scrubs, arms folded across your chest, one shoe dangling off your foot. Your head is tilted back against the armrest, a pen still tucked behind your ear. There’s a half eaten protein bar on the table beside you and a chart open in your lap.

Alexandra covers her mouth to stop a soft laugh. “God, she looks exhausted.”

Charles smiles and walks over, carefully setting the takeaway bag on the table. “Should we wake her?”

“No,” Alexandra says gently, walking over to crouch beside you. “Just let her rest a second.”

You stir slightly when her fingers brush a strand of hair from your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, disoriented for a moment—until you see them.

“Hey,” you rasp, blinking slowly. “What are you doing here?”

“You left us coffee,” Charles says, grinning. “Least we could do was bring dinner.”

Alexandra holds up the container. “Pasta. The good kind. Not hospital food.”

You sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes. “You guys didn’t have to—”

“We wanted to,” Charles interrupts softly, sitting on the edge of the couch beside you. “You take care of everyone else all day. We just wanted to make sure someone’s taking care of you too.”

Your heart twists a little at that. It’s not grand. It’s not flowers or champagne or a view of the ocean. It’s better.

It’s them. Showing up.

You smile sleepily, leaning your head onto Charles’ shoulder as Alexandra nestles against your other side on the floor, wrapping her arms around your waist. It’s clumsy and imperfect in the tight space — but it’s warm. Safe.

“I missed you today,” you murmur.

Charles kisses the top of your head. “We missed you too.”

“Next time,” Alexandra whispers, her fingers playing with the hem of your sleeve, “call in sick. We’ll steal you away for the whole day.”

You chuckle. “Tempting. But I like this too.”

And for a while, you just sit there—three people in love, in a tiny hospital room that somehow feels like the safest place in the world.

—

alexandrasaintmleux added to her story!

seen by yourusername, yourbff, arthur_leclerc and 1,390,220 others.

arthur_leclerc : omg you guys LEAVE MY DOCTOR ALONE.

↳ alexandrasaintmleux: she is our doctor now ;)

↳ arthur_leclerc : sick sick people. tell her to cure you.

yourbff : my poor sleepy baby🤧🤧 take care of her for me

↳ alexandrasaintmleux : on it 😎

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f1fan324

525,090 likes.

f1fan324 : does anyone know who this girl is?? she has been seen around monaco with charles, alexandra and arthur. she was in the paddock last week with alexandra, had lunch with charles and some of his team and then was seen with arthur at a club the other night.

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username00 : okay but she’s literally everywhere and no one knows her??

username0 : the fact that she’s been seen with all three… are we talking bestie? sister? situationship? 👀

username1 : not to be dramatic but if charles and alexandra are sharing her i will scream and also maybe cry

username5 : she was in the Ferrari hospitality tent last week?? and charles was all 😍🫠 the entire time

username7 : i can’t even get a text back and she’s got the whole leclerc bloodline around her like planets to the sun 😭

f1gossipgirls : sources say she’s a doctor at a Monaco hospital. girl’s got brains and the Leclercs wrapped around her finger apparently.

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alexandrasaintmleux

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, franciscagomes and 1,110,003 others.

alexandrasaintmleux : 🍒🌸

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username000 : is that… charles’ car? 😭 who is driving charles’ car?????

username00 : i want to be the girl driving the Ferrari with the doctor degree and the Monaco love triangle THANKS

username0 : leo looks like he knows something and he’s not telling us 😤

username7 : the softest soft launch of all time i’m SCREAMING

charles_leclerc : driving my car like she owns it…she pretty much does. she can have it 🧎🏻‍♂️

liked by yourusername and alexandrasaintmleux

↳ username00 : BUT WHOOOOOOOO

arthur_leclerc : leo has been obsessed with her. also tell her she owes me another rematch of mario kart.

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

↳ charles_leclerc : give it upppppp YOU LOST.

f1gossipgirls : guys!! we found her. check @/yourusername’s most recent post.

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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 75,209 others.

yourusername : convinced them to let me work 60 hours this week instead of 80 YAYYY

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—

The sun is beginning its slow descent over Monaco, casting golden light across the terracotta rooftops and sparkling off the harbor. It’s quiet — or, well, as quiet as Monaco ever gets — and you’re walking side by side with Alexandra and Charles along a tucked away street that winds gently above the city.

Leo trots ahead, tail wagging like he owns the block, occasionally glancing back to make sure all three of you are still following. He’s wearing a ridiculous little red bandana Arthur gave him (“Ferrari’s real mascot,” he claimed), and every few steps someone stops to coo at him.

You’re holding the leash — mostly because Leo demanded it, and by “demanded,” you mean he sat in front of you until you gave in. Charles is on your right, his fingers linked with yours, lazily swinging your hands between you. Alexandra’s on your left, brushing shoulders with you every time the sidewalk narrows, holding an iced coffee in one hand and gently tugging on the sleeve of your hoodie with the other.

“You realize Leo likes you more than he likes either of us, right?” Alexandra says suddenly, giving you a pointed look.

You shrug, smiling down at the pup. “He has good taste.”

Charles laughs. “You say that like he didn’t chew a hole through my Sparco gloves last week.”

“He was making a statement,” you tease. “They were ugly.”

Alexandra snorts into her drink and bumps your hip playfully. “You’re bold now that you’ve got joint custody.”

You raise a brow. “Joint custody?”

Charles nods solemnly. “We’ve talked. If anything happens to us, Leo’s going with you.”

“Wow. I feel so honored,” you say, deadpan. “And deeply concerned about your relationship stability.”

Alexandra just grins. “We’re very stable. Especially now that you’re around.”

Your heart stutters a little. It’s always like that with them — warmth in the small things. A hand held too long. A glance that says stay. A casual sentence that carries a little too much weight.

You turn a corner and find yourself at one of your favorite viewpoints — the city laid out below like a painting, water shimmering in the distance, the sky streaked in peach and lavender. Leo plops down on the edge of the stone wall, satisfied, like he planned this route himself.

Charles wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. Alexandra steps in front of you, her free hand coming up to trace lazy circles on your wrist where the leash loops.

It’s quiet for a moment. Just the three of you — no press, no cameras, no chaos. Just sunlight, softness, and a dog with royal energy.

“This is nice,” you murmur.

Charles hums. “You’re nice.”

Alexandra smirks. “Charles is bad at compliments. What he means is… we really like you, and Leo would probably be crushed if you ever left.”

You smile, turning to kiss Charles’s cheek, then Alexandra’s. “Good thing I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

Leo barks once, like he’s sealing the deal.

—

You’re standing beside Charles’ Ferrari, keys in your hand, sunglasses perched on your nose, trying not to let your nerves show — but Charles is watching you like he already knows how this is going to go.

“Sure you’re ready for this, Doctor LN?” he teases, leaning casually against the passenger door, arms crossed and a stupidly proud grin on his face.

You flash him a look over the top of your sunglasses. “I’ve done emergency surgery on someone’s spleen in a moving ambulance. I think I can handle a car.”

“Right, but this isn’t just any car,” he says dramatically. “This is my car.”

“Oh, you mean the one you nearly rear-ended a scooter with last month?”

Alexandra, sitting in the backseat with Leo curled in her lap, laughs so hard she nearly spills her coffee.

Charles holds a hand to his chest, mock wounded. “Unbelievable betrayal.”

You roll your eyes and slide into the driver’s seat. It’s sleek and powerful and smells like leather and faint hints of Charles’ cologne. Your fingers curl easily around the wheel, and when you start the engine, the soft purr feels like an invitation.

You glance at him. “You coming, or should I just drive it home myself?”

He groans dramatically and climbs in. “God help me.”

The second you pull away from the curb, you know. The engine hums like it’s made for you. The car doesn’t fight you — it flows with you, smooth and sharp and obedient beneath your hands. You navigate Monaco’s winding roads with perfect control, shifting effortlessly, gliding through turns with a little smirk tugging at your lips.

Charles glances over after a few minutes, eyebrows raised. “You’ve done this before.”

You shrug casually. “First time in a Ferrari. But I am a quick learner.”

“She’s a menace,” Alexandra mutters from the back, not even looking up from her phone. “A hot, terrifying menace.”

“I’m in love,” Charles says, completely deadpan, staring at you like you’ve just reinvented gravity.

You glance at him and grin. “With me or the way I take corners?”

“Both,” he replies without hesitation.

You pull off onto a scenic overlook just outside the city — one of those places Charles showed you once, high above the cliffs, the ocean stretching endlessly below. You kill the engine and turn to him, smug.

“So? Do I get a medal or what?”

Charles just shakes his head, smiling so big it’s ridiculous. “You get something better.”

Then he leans across the center console and kisses you — slow, soft, smiling against your lips like he doesn’t know what to do with how much he adores you.

Alexandra clears her throat loudly. “Um, some of us are trapped in the back with a dog who’s judging you.”

You both laugh, pulling apart, and Charles turns to her. “Fine. You get to drive next.”

“Don’t tease me,” she says. “You know I want to take it on the motorway.”

You settle back into the seat, heart still thumping, hands relaxed on the wheel, and glance between the two of them — one smirking, the other texting Arthur something undoubtedly chaotic.

—

“Okay, just to confirm,” you say as you smooth your shirt in the mirror, “we’re going to a casual lunch. Not a royal wedding. Not a medical board review. Just… brunch.”

“Yes,” Charles replies, deadpan from the kitchen, “a casual lunch with my mother, who only raised four children, survived raising Arthur, and could single handedly ruin my self esteem with a single look. But yes. Very casual.”

Alexandra peeks into the bedroom with a wide grin. “She already loves you, you know.”

“You think she loves me,” you mutter, grabbing your sunglasses. “She doesn’t even know me.”

Charles walks up behind you and rests his hands on your shoulders. “She knows everything that matters. You make us happy. That’s all she cares about.”

You sigh. “Okay. Okay. Let’s go meet your terrifyingly elegant mother and pretend I didn’t spend the last twenty minutes rehearsing how to say ‘It’s lovely to meet you’ in French.”

Alexandra loops her arm through yours. “You’re going to charm her so hard she’ll forget we even exist.”

Pascale Leclerc is already seated when you arrive — a vision in white linen, dark sunglasses, and the calm authority of a woman who has seen everything and still manages to be the most graceful person in any room. She stands when she sees Charles and Alexandra — but her gaze goes straight to you.

“Bonjour, ma belle,” she says warmly, pulling you in for cheek kisses before you can even say hello. “So this is the doctor I’ve been hearing about.”

You blink. “You… have?”

Pascale hums. “Constantly. My son is not a subtle man.”

Charles looks vaguely betrayed. Alexandra looks delighted.

“And my Alexandra,” Pascale continues, pulling her into a hug as well.

Pascale sits, already reaching for the wine list. “I need to know everything.”

You’re still recovering when Arthur barrels into the table, ten minutes late, hair a mess, sunglasses crooked, looking like he rolled straight out of bed and into chaos.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says, dropping into the seat beside you. “You wouldn’t believe the night I had.”

“Please,” Pascale mutters without looking up, “spare us all the trauma.”

Arthur grins and leans closer to you. “She’s kidding. She loves when I overshare.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You live for it.”

“Arthur.”

Charles groans. Alexandra sips her wine. You just smile — because somehow, this feels like home.

“Anyway,” Arthur says between bites of bread, “you know she stitched my head back together, right?”

You sigh. “It was not that dramatic.”

“I bled. There were gloves. I was brave.”

“You flirted with me while I was gluing your scalp shut.”

Charles chokes on his water. Alexandra starts laughing so hard she has to put down her fork.

“Wait,” Pascale says, eyes narrowed with faux seriousness. “Arthur tried to seduce his future sister in law with a head wound?”

“Sister in law?” Charles repeats, coughing. “We’ve known each other for two months.”

“I’m manifesting,” Pascale says calmly. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

You’re too stunned to speak, but Alexandra just grins and whispers in your ear, “Told you she loves already.”

By the time the desserts arrive — lavender crème brûlée and espresso mousse — Pascale has made you promise to come over for dinner next week, Charles has nearly fallen out of his chair from laughing at Arthur’s retelling of his evening and Alexandra is holding your hand under the table like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Pascale looks around the table and smiles like she’s full — not just from the meal, but from watching all of you.

“This,” she says, “is my favorite kind of chaos.”

Arthur raises his glass. “To our new chaos coordinator.”

Everyone clinks their glasses — even you, even though you’re still slightly dazed by the fact that you’ve just been adopted by a family of charming lunatics.

Charles leans in while the others are distracted. His voice is quiet in your ear.

“You were our missing piece.”

You glance around the table — at Alexandra tucking her hair behind her ear as she laughs with Pascale, at Arthur trying to sneak more sugar into his espresso, at the soft way Charles looks at you like he already knows this is just the beginning. And you believe him.

—

f1gossipgirls

2,110,000 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Charles Leclerc was spotted kissing and cuddling Dr. YN LN on his yacht this afternoon — Alexandra was not present, currently in Italy for a brand trip. The two looked very comfortable and fans are spiraling over what this means… is it drama? is it cheating? or a soft launch of something more?

—

The sea is calm, the sun golden and warm, and Charles is stretched out across one of the cushioned loungers, hair still wet from a dip in the water, salt-kissed and lazy with happiness.

You’re curled up beside him, in his arms, tracing slow shapes on his chest as the waves rock the yacht gently. He smells like sunscreen and ocean air. You’re still in your red bikini, your cover-up tossed somewhere, sunglasses long forgotten as you nuzzle into the space under his chin.

Charles hums quietly, his fingers in your hair. “You falling asleep again, ma belle?”

“Maybe,” you mumble, lips brushing his collarbone. “Blame the ocean. And you. You’re too warm.”

“You like me warm,” he says smugly.

You smile and tap his ribs lightly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re perfect,” he counters, leaning in to kiss your forehead. Then your cheek. Then the tip of your nose. “And I am incredibly lucky.”

“You’re incredibly dramatic.”

“Dramatic and in love,” he says, now grinning. “You should try it.”

You giggle and lean in to kiss him — slow, soft, sweet. One of those kisses that says this is home.

You don’t know how long you lie there like that, wrapped up in sun and each other, Leo snoring under the table in the shade, the crew respectfully ignoring your cuddlefest from the other end of the deck.

Eventually, the sun begins to dip and you both reluctantly get up, pack your things, and head back to shore.

—

You’re still glowing from the day when you walk through the door, tossing your bag onto the couch and heading to the kitchen while Charles grabs his phone off the counter.

He pauses.

“Um… bébé?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s… been a post.”

Your stomach drops.

“What kind of post?”

Charles turns his phone so you can see it. A fan account with a photo of the two of you lying on the yacht. It’s blurry, taken from a distance, but unmistakable- you curled into him, his hand in your hair, your lips almost touching. Your heart starts to pound.

“Oh my god.”

Charles immediately moves toward you. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” you say, voice shaking. “It looks like you’re cheating on Alex. She’s not even here and they’re acting like I’m—” You cut yourself off, eyes stinging. “This could blow up so fast.”

Charles gently cups your face, thumb brushing under your eye. “Breathe, YN. Just breathe for me.”

You try. He’s close, his eyes calm, grounding you.

“She knows,” he says softly. “Alex knows where I am. She knows I’m with you. She loves you.”

“I just… I don’t want people to think we’re hiding something ugly. This isn’t ugly. It’s—”

“Beautiful,” he finishes for you. “It’s love. It’s all love. And we’ll figure it out together, okay? But first, we call her.”

You nod shakily, and he kisses your forehead before dialing.

Alex picks up almost immediately, barefaced and lounging on a hotel balcony, a glass of wine in her hand.

“Hey, lovers.”

Charles snorts. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

Alexandra takes a dramatic sip of her wine. “Oh, I saw it. I was in the middle of a product shoot and the makeup artist gasped. I thought someone had died. Turns out my boyfriend and my girlfriend just soft-launched without me.”

Your eyes go wide. “Alex— I’m so sorry. We didn’t think—”

“Stop,” she interrupts, eyes kind. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re allowed to love each other. I love that you love each other. I just wish I’d been there.”

Charles smiles. “I told you she was perfect.”

Alexandra shrugs with a small smile. “We’ll post something. All three of us. Together. Make it clear we’re not hiding, we’re just… ours.”

You blink, emotional again — but this time, it’s soft. “You’re really okay?”

“I’m more than okay,” she says. “I miss you both. And I can’t wait to come home.”

Charles grins. “When are you back?”

“Tomorrow. And then we’re spending the weekend on the yacht again. This time with me in the middle.”

“Deal,” you say, smiling for real now.

Alexandra leans into the camera. “And next time you soft-launch anything, I’m picking the bikini.”

You and Charles both laugh.

—

Later, you’re curled up on the couch, wrapped in one of Charles’ hoodies, Leo asleep at your feet. Charles brings you a mug of tea and sits beside you, tucking your legs over his lap.

“Still worried?” he asks gently.

You shake your head. “No. Not anymore.”

“Good,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your temple. “Because you’re stuck with us now.”

You smile into your tea, heart finally settled.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

—

charles_leclerc

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 7,890,009 others.

charles_leclerc : she stitched arthur up after a fall and alex and i could not resist. oops.

—

user has disabled comments on this post.

—

[hoonieyun]

to be loved is to be.. ♡‧₊˚⋆˚✿˖°

a series of moments that have shown you that to be loved is to be changed, considered, known, and to be seen.

heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon

genre: fluff.. like a shiiit ton of fluff omg, romance, a bit of angst, established relationship warnings: kissing and some suggestive stuff, i dont think theres much else but lmk if i need to add anything!! 18+

wc: 2071

more under the cut .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ

⋆˚࿔ heeseung 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ to be loved is to be seen..

"i love all of you, even the parts that you think are not worthy of love." -daphne basset 'bridgerton'

there had been plenty of times where you have felt like your flaws have been the defining point of who you are as a person, but an even greater amount of times where you have had boyfriends tell you that your flaws were too much to handle. 

but not heeseung. 

heeseung constantly reassures you, even when you don’t need it, that you are perfect the way you are– flaws and all. 

he’s learned of your mannerisms when your brain has gotten too loud and has known you long enough to know when you were starting to get in your head. you wished you weren’t that way but heeseung has told you countless times that it’s okay to be like that and he’ll hold your hand every step of the way. 

“honey..? are you feeling alright?” 

you look at him from through your lashes, the wetness building in your eyes obscuring your view of heeseung. 

in a moment he’s right by your side and calmly rubbing your back. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks, knowing that you don’t need to tell him but he’ll be there regardless. 

you go on to talk about how you’re starting to feel insecure around your friends, telling him about how whenever you have a weird reference or a niche thought– none of your friends would catch it and would just send one another awkward glances as the silence presses on. 

“honey, you know that doesn’t matter; but i understand. sometimes i feel like that too..” 

your eyes perk up at his comment, unaware that heeseung also had these experiences which came as a shock because his friend group of seven seemed so close to one another. “really?” you ask and he nods with a small grin. 

heeseung goes on to tell you of all the times some of his friends would tease him for his obscure thought about a tv show he watched when he was really young that none of them have watched or whenever his friends would disagree with him about an opinion on something so simple like his preference of soggy vs non-soggy ramen. 

the two of you laughed at his stories and it instantly made you feel better. 

heeseung had that effect on you, he just knew how to make you feel better. 

“it’s okay to feel that way, honey. you just have to make sure that it doesn’t eat you up inside, i know it’s easier said than done but i’ll remind you of that every day if that’s what it takes so that you no longer have these negative thoughts about yourself… 

i see you for who you are, all of you, and i love every bit of you.” 

⋆˚࿔ jongseong 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ to be loved is to be considered..

"you have a place in my heart that no one could ever have." -f. scott fitzgerald

you’ve never had to worry about jay being loyal, he showed you very early on in your relationship that he was dedicated to you in ways that no man has ever shown you. you’ve never had a reason to question his love to you but he shows it in ways that you didn’t know. 

you’re currently having lunch with heeseung and sunoo, two of his best friends, talking about their plans for the summer when the topic of jay’s bachelor party comes up. you tense up a bit at the topic because quite frankly– you weren’t sure how that would play out. you’ve seen the horror stories of couples splitting up right before their wedding because of one of them having a little too much fun at their bachelor/bachlorette party and cheating on the other. 

but you knew to trust jay. 

“don’t worry, yn. jay loves you, he’d never cheat on you if that’s what you’re thinking about.” sunoo says, almost as if he was in your head. 

“oh– no, i know he’d never cheat.” you chuckle. 

“i mean, the guy thinks about you 24/7.” heeseung adds with a chuckle of his own. 

you look at him with a puzzled look and he takes that as you want him to elaborate, “yeah, jay can’t stop talking about you. he lives and breathes… you.” he continues. 

“we were talking about the bachelor trip last week and whenever jake or riki would add an idea, jay would go– “mmm i don’t know if yn would like that” or “i’ll see with yn first.” i’m starting to think you’ve got your leash a bit tight on my best friend.” heeseung says jokingly, causing you and sunoo to laugh. 

the three of you enjoy a moment of laughter before continuing the conversation, “no, i’m just kidding. he just loves you a lot, everything he does he makes sure to consider how it would affect you first. 

he’s just really thoughtful and considerate that way. you’re always on his mind and he’s made it a point that you’re the first thing on his mind no matter what comes up.” 

his words warm your heart and only solidifies the feeling you had, jay has never made you worry about his love and that was the truth. 

“hey guys- hi my love, sorry i’m late!” speak of the devil. 

jay has just arrived to lunch, a bit late due to traffic but not like it mattered, and he joins you and his friends at the table. 

“did you guys order already? i chose this place because i know how much you like pasta and they make all of their pasta from scratch here.” jay says, looking at you with a warm smile and bright eyes; one that you return with a small kiss on his cheek. 

a glance from sunoo and heeseung don’t go unnoticed by you as jay’s last statement only proves the previous conversation further.

⋆˚࿔ jaeyun 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ to be loved is to be known..

"my heart is so full of you, i can hardly call it my own." -liana radulescu

it was the little things that jake did that made your heart swell with more love. it’s not that jake doesn’t do any grand gestures for you, in fact he did it so often you practically had to beg him to stop, but it was moreso that you really appreciated the smaller ways he showed his love for you. 

like right now. 

jake, your boyfriend of 2 years, was currently arguing with your sister on what your favorite ice cream flavor was. you’d think the two were little kids with the way they were bickering and in all honesty; it was too entertaining to stop. 

“no!! she likes strawberry, we literally always got them when we were kids!” your sister argued and all jake could do was scoff and shake his head. 

“how are you her sister and you’ve known her your whole life and you don’t know her favorite flavor? it’s mint chocolate, i’m telling you!” jake retorts. 

the two had been at it for a while now and you just sat silently while they went at it. the topic wasn’t even that important until jake, stubborn as ever, refused to back down when your sister said she knew you more than he did. 

he wasn’t going to let that bruise his ego but he did holds the title of “number one yn lover” very dearly. he didn’t care who wanted to challenge him for the title whether it be your sister or even one of your parents. 

you and jake have been dating for two years but have known each other for a while now. you started off as friends and the chemistry between the two of you eventually turned romantic, jake asking you on a date for the first time with all of your favorite things. 

favorite flowers, lillies, organized into a bouquet, a sanrio plushy of your favorite character, cinnamoroll, and a picnic of your favorite food: sushi and pastries. 

it was honestly the perfect first date for you but what made it even better was that he took the time to put together your favorite things and even remembered the one time, several years ago, where you mentioned that your idea of a perfect date was a picnic and watching the sunset. 

the small things like remembering your favorite things or jake making an effort to know you the way no one has ever known you before was what made you love him most. that and his cute face. 

“yn? will you tell your little boyfriend that he’s WRONG!” your sister says, her eyes and jake’s glued on you to settle the argument. 

“sorry…” you begin and your sister already has a shit eating grin. 

“my favorite is mint chocolate…” you mutter and her mouth drops in shock. 

“i fucking told you! number one yn lover, let’s go baby!!” jake shouts, shooting up to his feet and slapping his chest like he had just scored the final goal of a game. jake runs over to you and tackles you to the ground with a hug, peppering kisses along your face. 

“ugh, gross– i quit.” you sister says before walking out of the room. 

⋆˚࿔ sunghoon 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ to be loved is to be changed..

"you miss who you used to be, but who you are now deserves to be loved too. -samantha camargo

to say that you were the same girl you were just one year ago would be untrue. when you first met sunghoon, he was the captain of the soccer team, every girl– and quite frankly, every guy, wanted him. 

you had met in a music theory class and he showed up late and the only seat left was the one next to yours. you barely gave him a glance and for the first time, sunghoon had met someone who didn’t automatically fawn over him. he made several attempts to try to talk to you and you never responded with more than 5 words. 

it wasn’t because you had any negativity towards sunghoon, to be honest you found him to be as handsome as the next person, but you were too far in your own shyness that you couldn’t muster up a full conversation. you were a generally shy person and because of the aura around sunghoon, you were even more shy. 

but sunghoon didn’t give up on you. 

he wanted to break you out of your shell because you were the one person who treated him more than just his status or appearance. he would sometimes bring you a pastry because he’d heard your stomach grumble once during your 8am class. he would bring an extra eraser with him because you tend to forget to bring one. he even went as far as to save a seat for you the following semester for music theory 202 because he just assumed you’d also take that course. 

and as time went on, you warmed up to him more and more. 

the small conversations in class turned into study sessions at the library until 2 in the morning– and eventually he built up the courage to ask you out on a date. it wasn’t because he was nervous about the action of asking you out, it was moreso because he was nervous you’d turn him down. 

to his surprise, you said yes. and even more a surprise for you that he asked you out. 

that was just a year ago when he first met you. 

the shy girl he sat next to on the first day of music theory and now you were his girlfriend who he’d be spending all summer with. all summer to get to know you further, listen to you talk about all of the things that you enjoyed and to be able to witness this new side to you. 

“you know… i’m so glad i didn’t give up on you. i was afraid you hated me or something.” sunghoon confessed as the two of you ate dinner at his apartment. you looked at him with a shocked expression. “you barely spoke to me when we first met.” he laughs. 

“but here you are now, my girlfriend that i love so much who is the only person i know who can talk about why a waffle is better than a pancake but how french toast is better than both..” he says, stuffing his mouth with grilled meat. the two of you laughing at his comment because it was so true. 

“hey..” you pouted before continuing. 

“i guess that’s what love does to you then, huh? because you went from this big shot hottie captain of the soccer team to a big softie goofball now that we're dating.” you retorted, causing sunghoon to briefly choke on his food. 

it wasn’t that either of you needed to change for the better, but being around each other and feeling one another’s love was able to change you both in ways that made you fall in love even more. 

hoonieyun notes: hehehe i have been in a fluff mood lately because ive been writing so much angst LOL i hope you guys enjoyed but i also wanted to say this one is dedicated to @zorange13!! shes been such a sweetheart so i wanted to show some appreciation for her. her work is so well thought out and always leaves me wanting mooore!! pls check her out, her work is some of my favorite <3

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @manaah02 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @kristynaaah @17ericas @heeseung64 @leipforggy

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[lovelybucky1]

your dex one shot is so good omg. i need him.

if you’re the object of dex’s affections, he’ll do whatever it takes to get you to notice him.

your boyfriend was killed in a freak accident; he somehow caught a stray bullet in the street. it’s a tragedy, but you were thinking about breaking up with him anyway.

you also haven’t heard from your best friend in two weeks. you know she was going on a trip but it’s unusual for her to go this long without texting you at the very least.

to make matters even worse, you got laid off from your job. they said something about an anonymous tip about some illegal behavior which makes no sense, but they spit out some legal jargon and had you out the door before you could ask any questions.

but at least your new neighbor ben is nice. he moved in just last week and he introduced himself with a plate of fresh-baked cookies. you invited him in and split a bottle of wine, over which you ended up pouring out your whole life story, but he carefully listened the whole time.

you felt bad because you did all the talking, but he assured you it wasn’t a problem. “you’re a great storyteller. i bet you could make the phone book sound interesting.”

as things started to go wrong in your life, ben was there for you to lean on. he was so supportive and caring, willing to do anything for you. it’s crazy that someone as great as he is could be single. you’re considering making a move, but you’re afraid he might reject you. after all, he seems like the perfect guy.

[nymphoniah]

Hiiii! May i request training/working out/ sparring (idk😭) with logan and it ends up with us dry humping or something pretty please will all the cherries :)

indulgent desires | logan howlett

pairing: boyfriend!logan x afab!reader

AN: omg your mind... i know for a fact that logan is an absolute menace when it comes to working out. like have you seen his arms? i need to be squished to death by his biceps. they're just so!!! omg!!! you know that man loves hitting his arms.

written with xmen/x2 logan in mind, but honestly can be applied to any other ver. of him! (for once i'm not writing with old man!logan in mind? am i really me?)

content/tags: minors DNI (18+ only), dry humping, pet names (babygirl, princess, etc.), porn with a little bit of plot, cum tasting/eating/facial, hair pulling, teasing

logan practically spends every day at the gym. he always prided himself on his physique, not just for self-fulfilling reasons, but for the mere fact that he knows that his body riles you up.

he can tell when you would "sneak" glances at him, especially when he gets a pump right after his workouts. the way his muscles swelled after working out made you lust for him harder.

you could tell he hit his arms today; his biceps were more defined than usual, with your eyes tracing a thick vein that flows down his forearm. "you like what you see, princess?" he teases, flexing his arm as you continue to stare.

you blink hard and shake your head embarrassingly fast. "whatever, logan!" you shout, continuing whatever workout you were doing, losing track of how many reps you did.

you would tag along with him every so often, but only because he would take hours at a time at the gym. sure, you liked going to the gym, you had to stay fit somehow, but you lacked the stamina logan had; the frequency and duration of his gym sessions were unbearable for a poor little thing like you.

and logan acknowledged this, as he would often end his sessions a bit shorter so the two of you could go home sooner. you felt like a bother, and the last thing you wanted to do was interfere with his workouts.

"fuuuuck, im tired," you exhale, leaning forward, hands gripping at your knees as you try to catch your breath. pushing through your last set of bulgarian split squats had you absolutely winded. logan placed his firm hand on the small of your back, gently rubbing circles against your skin.

"let's go home, bub" he lulled, passing you his water bottle to drink from. nodding at him, you take a long swig, and the ice cold water rejuvenates your body. "let's..." you eagerly reply.

you couldn't bare being separated from him, lounging away at home any longer, so one day, you took matters into your own hands.

eventually you had the idea to buy at-home gym equipment; it was pricy to say the least, but it didn't matter to you, for as long as logan was home.

from the comfort of your own apartment, you had the view of logan all to yourself. whenever he worked out, he wore his plain white wife beater along with a random rugged pair of gym shorts he rotated through.

you'd wake up to his grunts early in the morning, getting up at first light to use the machines splayed out in your living room. the domesticity of it all made it so the early mornings never bothered you, as well as the occasional tsss or oomph he'd let out as he finished a rep.

and just like before, you'd join him. you had bought a yoga mat to do your stretches before your workout. even got one for logan, but he keenly insists on using yours.

this morning you had spot him on seated on the mat, legs stretched out. he splayed his torso out between his thighs, letting out a grunt as he felt his muscles pull as he reached forward.

a yawn leaves his mouth as he returns to an upright position. he glances over to his right to spot you sitting at the dining table, sipping from your mug, eyes focused on him.

when finished with his usual routine, he follows up with a couple of stretches afterwards to cooldown. his arms were thicker, more defined than usual. arms, you thought to yourself. he hit his arms, again.

“morning, sweetheart,” he chirps as a lazy grin slowly wipes across his face. he reaches his hand out, signaling for you to come over.

and so you do, sitting alongside him on the mat, slotting yourself between his legs. you rest your hands on his thick shoulders, tugging at the straps of his tank top.

he leans in, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “stretch with me, darlin,” he hums against your temple.

“i’d rather watch you,” you reply, playfully pushing him away. you’re about to return to your spot at the dining table before he snakes his arms around your waist, holding you in place.

“no, no, we gotta get you movin’, doll.” and oh how logan has a way of convincing you. just a simple pet name, and he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

he taps your hips, motioning for you to turn around, and you oblige. with a swift movement, your back is now pressed against his chest, your legs encaged by his own.

you could already feel that his dick was hard, which wasn’t too much of a surprise. logan had morning wood pretty frequently, and would often work out to relieve it, as he felt guilty if he were to wake you up so early in the morning.

but this time, it was different. watching you prance around the kitchen in those shorts that barely cover your ass, wearing a skin tight camisole that put your hardened nipples on display. how could he not get hard—or rather, not keep his hard-on for a pretty little thing like you?

logan rests his head on your shoulder, leaning close to your ear. “c’mon, get started already.” he whispers, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear.

and so you mimic the stretch he was doing earlier. you lean forwards, making your ass push into his crotch. the pads of his rough fingertips remain at your waist, gripping at your skin to bring you closer. you continue to lean forwards, and your back is now parallel with your legs on the mat.

his hands creep their way to the small of your back. “there you go, doll. just like that,” he lulls, tracing delicate circles where your back arches. logan shifts in place, now kneeling behind you as you remain spread out for him on the floor.

you attempt to rise from your position to sit upright, but a firm hand is planted on your back, keeping you in place. "y'look so pretty for me like this," logan teases, his calloused palm now slipping underneath your tank top.

his hands run up to caress your shoulder blades, pushing the straps of your tank top down swiftly. your tits were now exposed to the crisp, cool air, your nubs now even harder than before.

“logan…” you whine as his left hand keeps you in place, while the other roams to paw at your tits. you continue to moan out his name while he works at you, paying sweet attention to the way your breath hitches as he gently tugs at your swollen nubs.

“couldn’t help it darlin’,” he lulls, “how can i ignore a pretty little thing like you?” his hands move their way from your breasts to your hips. tugging at your legs, he manhandles you so you’re now prone on the yoga mat.

logan is still seated beside you, calloused hand now working at the globes of your ass, jiggling one your cheeks in the thick palm of his hands. “you got me so fuckin’ hard, baby…” he hisses, his free hand palming his erection through his shorts.

he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the flesh of your ass, admiring how pretty you look spread for him. his face lingers for a second as he catches a whiff of your arousal pooling in your cunt.

“can smell how bad you need me, doll.” logan utters under his breath. “don’t worry, i’m gonna fill you right up…” you lazily turn your head around to catch a glimpse of the smirk forming on his face, and you flash him a coquettish smile of your own.

“ass up, princess,” he commands, pushing on the small of your back. and you obey, arching your back so that your ass is presented to him, your lacy panties peeking through your shorts.

“fuck.” he coos, molding your ass in the palm of his hand. logan is tempted to pop his claws out to rip the fabric, but the last time he did, you complained about him ruining your favorite pair of sleep shorts, so he refrains from doing so.

so he decides on something else. pushing his shorts down, logan remains in his boxers, his oh-so needy cock forming a tent in the tight fabric.

you feel him shifting around you, seating himself so he’s on his knees, his cock parallel to your ass. you try to push back to feel any friction against your needy cunt, but he keeps a firm grip on your hips, keeping you still.

“please, need you so bad,” you whine, attempting to wiggle your way out of his grip, but knowing him, knowing his strength, it’s useless to even try.

“you’re gonna have to wait for it, sweetheart,” he says cockily, pressing his pelvis against your clothed cunt, and the both of you hiss out in pain.

logan began to rut his cock against you at a steady pace, angling his hips to that the tip of his cock just about grazed over your clit.

“stop teasin’,” you purr, arching your back to try and get any more friction, but it’s no use. logan reaches over and presses your head into the yoga mat, your cheek squished against the foam.

“you get what i give you, princess.” he grunts, pushing your head further into the mat as his hips move faster, pressing harder into your ass. “gonna use you first, then i’ll stuff you with my cock.”

his hips sputter as he feels the way you bounce your ass against him, your bodies moving in sync, his thrusts matching the way you rut back into him. “fuck, you got me worked up doll, prancing around the house like that…”

you couldn’t respond to his words, only grunt in response. the pressure building in your core was too much, making your mind hazy. all you managed to let out was a little mmh.

“walkin’ around with your tits on display, actin’ all innocent,” he drones on, continuing to pound his hips against yours. he fists a section of your hair, tugging harshly so your face now meets his.

“the things you do to me, doll…” logan mutters, leaning over to give you a hungry kiss. your entangled your tongues sloppily, moaning into each others mouths.

he pulls away from the kiss hastily, and a thin strand of your saliva mixed with his pools from your bottom lip. you look fucked out already, and he’s only been dry humping you.

“dirty little thing,” logan teases, pressing a finger against your clothed cunt as he continues his thrusts. you feel yourself getting close, your panties were drenched with your own arousal.

the way your ass rippled with every thrust of his hips, combined with how wet you were getting from this sent logan into a spiral.

his movements became more erratic, his strained dick begging to be released from the confines of his boxers. he began to rub tight circles on your clit, pushing you further to your limit.

“gonna come soon, baby,” he grunts out, and you moan in response. “where do you want me, darlin’?”

spit dribbles out of your mouth as he continues his relentless attack on your ass, his hips pistoning as fast as he could manage. “o-on my face…” you barely manage to whimper out

and so his thrusts pause, and he manhandles you, now flipping you onto your back. he hastily pushes his boxers down, his cock springing back in protest against his stomach.

your mouth waters at the sight of his thick cock, his hands pumping him at a rapid pace, precum leaking all over his abs.

he hovers himself over your face, his knees caging your head. as he angled his cock at your mouth, he continued fisting himself vigorously. “gonna take my cum like a good girl?” he asks, raising his eyebrow. you nod your head yes, but this isn’t enough for logan.

“words, princess.” he quips, feeling himself close to his release.

“‘m gonna take it like a good girl, i promise lo” you whine, locking your eyes with his, your pupils blown with lust.

“‘atta girl…”

and after a couple more pumps of his dick, thick ropes of his cum coat your face. he’s spurting out more than you imagined—he was really fucking pent up. who would’ve thought that a sweet little thing like you had that much of an effect on him?

after he milked himself of all of his cum, he rolls over to your side. he glances over at you and wipes the mess off near your eyes. you chuckle a bit, licking off the cum that got on your lips.

you lean over and pull logan into a short kiss, allowing him to taste himself on your lips. “fuckin’ hell,” he whispers, his hot breath tickling your nose. he sits up, looking around the kitchen for a spare towel to clean you up.

“soo… does this count as our warm up for today?” you ask cheekily, propping yourself up on your elbow as you watch him pace around the kitchen.

“shut up, kid…” logan replies, groaning at your attempt joke.

[gia-d]

Back in October last year, I started reading This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja.

By the time I had made it to chapter 5, I had already started typesetting this story as I read because I knew this would be one of those stories that I needed to have on my shelf.

When I finally caught up to the story at chapter 31, I begged the author to let me bind this when it was finished.

Nearly a year later, and what is probably the most important bind of my life is finally finished. Check out these glamour shots, and if you want to hear more about the actual binding process and about how this fic actually changed my life, see below.

So funny story, before I get into the technical side of this bind, but this fic actually changed my life. Not as in I was greatly emotionally moved by the story, though don't get me wrong I absolutely was, but genuinely this fic introduced me to some of the best people I have ever had to privilege of knowing (Hello Class, you know who you are 🩷), and also, it introduced me to Freyja, the incredibly talented author, who, as I type this, is curled up in bed next to me fast asleep after flying half way around the world to go on a two week long date with me.

Moral of the story folks is comment on the fics you like. You might accidentally meet the love of your life on, and I can't believe I'm saying this, AO3.

Anyways, about the bind!

This bind was a challenge from day 1. I had to do the typeset for this 300k word fic 4 times, and had to split it across 2 volumes. This was the longest fic I have ever attempted to bind, and it was so thick I couldn't get it in the paper trimmer.

To make this book as durable as possible, I attempted a few techniques. I secured it with 3 tapes, I made an Oxford hollow, I rounded the spine, I made a slipcase and I used 2.3mm boards where normally I use 1.8mm.

The slipcase is covered with embossed faux leather, buckram and plain ribbon, and lined with gold satin fabric. I've never made a slipcase before so this was an experience.

The books are covered with an emerald green silk finish bookcloth which really gave the books the luxury they deserved. I foiled custom end papers as well as every chapter title page using heat reactive transfer foil on toner ink (never again I am never doing that again omg it took days). Huge thank you to @la-sera for letting me use her artwork which helped inspire this fic!

The grey flashback chapters I had to use HTV for the border decoration and I'm very happy with how that turned out because it was so easy and straight forward, unfortunately it just wasn't viable for the whole book.

It feels weird to finally have these books done. They have my blood, sweat, tears and my heart poured into them, and I've been working on them for so long that it's odd to actually have them finished. I'm so proud of this bind, and feel like I've grown so much as a fanbinder by making these.

Anyways, if anyone has any questions about the process, please don't hesitate to ask!

(and if you are an Linked Universe fan and haven't read Adjuration yet, this is your sign!)

[iloveb3aches]

omg girl i got this rlly cutee bra but like my tits literally SPILL out of it and i was thinking like what if you wrote about smth like this with hamzah? ^w^

omg, yes, I love this 🙏🙏🙏

"Unspoken Moments"

Hamzah x f!reader

Warnings/tags - honestly none unless your uncomfy with tits being brought up, quick little story, tension, fluff, cleaning up after hanging with friends

A/N -

✩ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐩 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬😪

You and Mandy were in Victoria's Secret

You don't normally buy your bras at Victoria's Secret, mainly because they're expensive, and every time you think you've bought the correct size, it's either too big or too small. But they were having a sale, and she offered to pay for you, so how could you turn that down? 

You found a cute pink lacy bra, you were going to try it on, but Mandy was in a rush, so you just checked if it was your size and paid for it. 

You got home and finally tried that said bra on, but to no surprise, it was too small, and almost everything was spilling out. You were still going to wear even if you're one jump away from flashing everybody, you would just have to be careful. 

One week later 

You, Martin, Mandy, and Hamzah just got done hanging out in your house.  You guys drank, played card games, and just talked, but eventually everyone had to head home. 

“Bye y/n, we're going to head home now!” Mandy says leaving with Martin. “Okay, bye, I'll see you soon,” you say, picking up the trash that had been left over from that hangout. You stand up to pull up your shirt. You decided that wearing that bra wouldn't be a problem because you weren't going to do so much except sit down. 

“Hamzah, you heading home too?” you question. He glances up from his phone and over at you. “Yeah, I was just-” He pauses, sees the bag. “Do you want help cleaning up?”

You start to shake your head. “Oh, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” he says, cutting you off smoothly, already standing up. “I want to. I don’t have much else to do anyway.”

You reach over the couch, grabbing all the bags of chips and the cans that were lying on the couch. In doing so, your shirt got pulled down a bit, and that bra that you thought wouldn't be a problem was, in fact, a problem. Cute, yes. Supportive? Not even a little. 

He doesn't say anything, he walks over to the sink to put a bowl away, and sees you for a split second. He tries to act like he didn't see anything, like nothing happened at all, but you weren't convinced. You look up and catch him staring at you as he quickly shifts his eyes to the floor. 

But he did see you and every so often, just for a second, when you turned or bent over, his eyes flicked down 

You look back up at him and you squint your eyes slightly, looking at him suspiciously. “You good?”

“Hm?” he says, too quickly. Then clears his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, just tired.”

“Righttt.” you say, dragging the word out, not convinced at all.

The air’s different now. Not tense in a bad way, just heavy. Like there’s something in the room neither of you wants to name. 

Eventually, you two get done cleaning and are now just standing against the counter, just talking. You leans over the counter to grab a cookie that was left on your plate which of course frustratly causes your tits to spill out again. He goes still for half a breath. His eyes flick down, then away again. His jaw tightens, like he’s trying to hold in a thought. He cuts you off mid-sentence “You know that shirt doesn’t hide anything, right?”

You blink and stare at him, confused. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

 “The one you’re wearing, that top?” You still stare at him in confusion when you all of a sudden realize and look down to see that your boobs have basically fallen out. “Oh my god- how long were you gonna wait to say something?” you say frantically pulling up your top. 

“I mean I wasn’t gonna be like, ‘Hey, your boobs are out.’ that sounds weird” He says in a slightly panic but sarcastic state “They do look nice though” he mutters under his breath

 “...What was that?” you say, questioning him “Nothing.” he rubs the back of his neck, trying to save himself

But you definitely heard it, he knows you heard it. 

[gingersxng]

Cherry Baby

Pairing: f!reader x Mingi x Yunho

Genre: smut 18+, light angst, fluff

Summary: your best friends would do everything for you but would they even get you pregnant?

Notes: sub!reader, dom!yungi, best friends, unprotected sex (always be safe), reader gets pregnant, anxiety, crying, lactation kink, big dick yungi, pregnancy sex, threesome, yungi is obsessed with your tits, boob sucking, mingi drinks your milk, kissing, pet names (honey & darling), pussy play, cum cum cum, blowjob, titty fucking, aftercare, lots of love. may have forgot something!

a/n: this is an idea I’ve had in mind for a long time (cause omg!!) and I finally got motivated to write it. it begins kinda soft but then my period hormones kicked in.. :)

words: 1.8k

Imagine that Mingi and Yunho had been your best friends for almost half your lifetime, they’d become your family members and they did everything for you and that includes taking care of your needs too.

you were in your last year of collage and the boys were two years older than you so they’d got their own jobs. since you’re so close you had decided it was a better idea to get an apartment together rather than live in three different places, cause you always hung out and it was cheaper to split the costs.

you came home late one day cause you’d been drowning in books from morning until now, not a single light was on which meant the boys were either sleeping or out doing stuff. the darkness didn’t do well with your tired eyes and you tripped over the carpet and bumped your head in the shoe stand. a few curses left your mouth while you got up trying to find the light switch.

at the same time you could hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and the light turned on, the bright lights cut right into your poor eyes. you were met with a tired Mingi, his hair looked like a bird’s nest and his pyjamas pants hung low on his hips.

“you’re home now? where have you been?” he asked while trying to open his eyes properly. “I’ve been at school reading and studying all day and all I wanna do now is find my bed” you almost cried out. Mingi gave you a big hug squeezing you tight into his warm bare chest, it was his way to show you how much he cared about you and you loved him for that. he walked you to your room and kissed you goodnight, but before he reached the door you already wanted him back.

“can’t you stay?” you whispered not knowing if he would hear you. Mingi came to an halt and turned around, a tired smile formed on his face as he walked back towards your bed. “of course I can” he slipped under the covers with you and brought you close to his body. your heart skipped a beat and you could feel how you got closer and closer to dreamland.

since it was your last year many days would look like this, you would study and then come home late and end up sleeping with both Mingi and Yunho. none of you had nothing against it cause it just felt so right and you were so safe with each other as well.

until one night when you ended up with both of them in your bed, they were taking turns fucking you hard into the mattress, the bed frame squeaking with every trust, and you did get complaints from your neighbours the next day. it was the first time you had sex with both boys at the same time… and because you never used condoms it resulted in something unexpected (well not really).

lately you had been feeling very sick and your hormones had been kinda wild too, both Mingi and Yunho had begun to notice the sudden change and had to ask you one day if it was what they thought.

they joined you on the couch and asked you right away. “y/n? are you alright?” Mingi put a hand on your thigh brushing the thumb slowly over the skin. you furrowed your eyebrows together at the sudden question. “we’ve noticed that you’re nauseous often and more moody than usual” Yunho cut in. you could feel how your eyes began to tear up and the tension in your body got hotter, you were about to explode. “are you?” Yunho looked you in the eyes waiting for an answer he already knew. you began to cry and the anxiety took over, your breathing got shorter and faster and your mind went blurry, it felt like you would pass out any second. you were comforted by your big bears, they hugged you tightly and did their best to calm you down.

“it’s gonna be alright, we’re here with you” Mingi kissed your forehead. Yunho dried your tears and kissed your cheek “we won’t leave you, we knew there would be a risk when we didn’t use condoms”. they always made you get both feet back on earth and you could feel a little more relaxed after hearing their words. “who’s is it?” Mingi brushed a hair behind your ear. “I don’t know” you whispered. “it doesn’t matter, we’ll both take care of the baby” Yunho gave you a smile. “do you want anything?” you were silent for a while trying to think of anything. “maybe those haribo cherries you love so much?” they really knew you so well and you couldn’t help but to break out in a joy of laughter.

- 4 months later -

Yunho were hovering over you thrusting deep into your pussy as he dragged out soft moans from you, he placed small kisses on your neck down to your swollen breasts, small droplets of milk spilled out as he began to squeeze them. “I swear it’s so damn hot when you leak” Yunho grunted as he sped up his thrusts. Mingi were kissing you passionately, your tongues dancing together making your body tingle. ever since you got pregnant all you wanted was to get your pussy destroyed by their big cocks and they were sure to give it to you.

they loved giving you everything you asked for, hugs, comfort, advice, food, kisses and of course sex, lots of it.

Yunho buried his face in the crook of your neck and his breathing became heavier, his thrusts got sloppier. your eyes were shut tight enjoying every single second of your intimate time together, a sudden wave of pleasure washed over you as you felt Yunho guide his hand down to your clit. he slowed down his thrusts and focused more on your swollen bud, holding himself up with one hand he looked down at your pussy and then back on your face giving you a smirk. “are you gonna cum for me honey?” he raised an eyebrow at you, now flicking your bud harder. you gave him a nod biting your lower lip, the tension in your abdomen about to burst any moment.

Mingi helped you chase your orgasm, he latched on to your sore leaking nipples and you felt how your mind got completely blank. attacking your neck Yunho let go of your clit and pushed his cock deeper touching the right place for you to finally cum. riding out your orgasm he fucked you harder to get his own release, it didn’t take many thrusts until a deep broken groan left his mouth, his dick twitched and you felt a hot wave of cum entering your pussy. Mingi let go of your nipples, milk running down his chin, Yunho gave your nose a kiss before he pulled out and went for a towel to clean you up with.

Mingi did a quick run to the kitchen and came back with a bag of cherry gummies. “you deserve this now for being a good girl” he whispered giving you a kiss. you rested your back against the headboard and opened the pack of your favourite gummies, Yunho came back from the bathroom with a warm towel and gently cleaned up the cum on your inner thighs, he gave your belly bump a kiss followed by a soft smile. you catched an eye on Mingi and he met you with a smile, his dimples showing.

“you didn’t get your turn..” you gave him a pout putting another gummy in your mouth. “it’s alright darling, you need some rest now” he said squeezing your thigh. deep down you knew he suffered on the inside cause your horny boy loved to fuck, he always wanted you to go first before his own needs. you put the bag away and got up from the bed placing yourself on your knees in front of the bed, both of them watched you with big eyes at your sudden action. you tapped the edge of the bed for Mingi to sit and he did as he was told, you didn’t let a second go to waste as you grabbed the hem of his sweats and pulled them down with his boxers. his thick cock slapped against his stomach and was leaking precum at the tip, he groaned as you slowly began to lick his irritated head, your hand pumping him too.

Mingis hands went to grab your hair guiding you up and down his enormous length, he let his head fall back and he bit his lip so hard he could taste blood. “fuck just like that, mmh”. you sucked him faster and harder and you could already feel how his cock twitched in your mouth, you let go of his dick with a pop and kissed the tip “it tastes like cherries” you licked your lips. Mingis eyes rolled back into his head, his large hands cupped your breasts and squeezed them to make you leak more milk. “you have a thing for lactation huh?” you teased him as you played with them. the boy swallowed hard and you could see how his pupils got dilated, his sex brain was on hard drive.

you took your breasts in your hands and put Mingis cock between them, up and down you fucked his cock with your tits. his eyes were glued to the pornographic scene in front of him, you made him into a groaning mess. you pumped him one last time before he came on your chest, neck and chin. you got up to give him a kiss, tasting a mix of himself and cherry gummies. “we have to get you pregnant more often” Mingi said laughing trying to catch his breath. you gave him a not so amusing glare but you knew he was joking.

Yunho had changed into his sleeping shorts and he gave you his oversized shirt for you to sleep in, it was oversized for him so you almost drowned in it. both of you got to bed and cuddled for a while, his large hand caressing your belly. “can’t wait to meet this little one” he looked at you with eyes filled of love. Mingi got back and joined you under the warm covers.

there you were between the two most important people of your life and to soon be fathers to your baby, it couldn’t be better. “you’re gonna be the best daddies” you giggled. they couldn’t help but laugh at your comment. “you’re gonna be an excellent mommy” Yunho smiled at you. “we love you both so much” Mingi said rubbing your baby bump.

you stayed like that for a while before you all drifted off to sleep, all four of you.

[pha55ed]

Quite Rude || F1

tw/cw :: swearing, suicide jokes, murder jokes contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, lance, george summary :: driver!reader plays for an opposing team and the two get into a crash, leading to (y/n) to insult them on the radio and off course - lowkeyyyy a start of enemies to lovers??? - gender neutral reader! - my first ever postttt omg i just got into f1 pretty recently so if im a little ooc then lmk :DD f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

CARLOS S. || 55

Both you and Carlos were competing head to head, fighting for P1 position. It was intense, everyone was sweating on the edge of their seat. Even twitter started going crazy and F1 quickly became a trending topic from all of the live tweets. This would be the first time someone else could win P1 since Max got rear-ended by a different driver.

Carlos was blocking you over and over again, preventing you from taking the P1 position and it was pissing you off. Even more so, your team was constantly bugging you and adding even more pressure onto you. There so many strategies they wanted you to try but each one seemed basically impossible with how well Carlos was defending.

But as you both entered the long straight, you finally had the opportunity to do something to overtake him. It was a bit risky, but who cares, this could get you your first ever P1 spot. Your first ever podium was right ahead of you.

You slowed down for a split second, only to slam the gas pedal and try your best to sneak back Carlo's right. But Carlos saw this move, and he decided to turn to the right, in hopes of blocking you and making you stop.

But, your breaks malfunctioned for some reason, causing you both to get into a huge collision. Even if your breaks did work, there's no way you'd be able to slow down after pushing 250 mph.

The crash was huge, deadly almost. One side of your car was pushed against the wall while the other was being scrapped by Carlo's car. Carlos aggressively pulled his wheel, jeering it right to get off your car. Which was perfect timing, since your car quickly lit into flames in the back.

Out of pure panic and anger, you shouted "YOU'RE JOKING?!?" As you jumped out of the car as fast as you could. "FUCK THAT BIG BOOBY MAN." You said with a frustrated loud groan as the medics quickly rushed to where you and Carlos were.

Luckily both of you weren't injured, but both of your cars were needing life support. You're both escorted to the medical site, the entire time you can't help but glare at Carlos. He was almost too nervous to look back, but he did.

"Is being big boob-ed a good thing or bad thing...?" He asked with a slight hint of innocence. You looked in his eyes and could feel annoyance creep all over your body, not because you hated him but because you WANTED to hate him but it seemed to be physically impossible.

CHARLES L. || 16

You were prepared and hyped for the race weekend, it was in your home country after all. It was your first ever season, you needed to prove to not only your country but also the world that you were worthy of your seat in F1. Being a rookie meant all eyes were on you, one mistake and your reputation would be permanently stained forever by memes of your mistake.

Although you received plenty of media training, the idea of online hate still got to your head. You were a bit of a peoples pleaser, an awful trait to have as a celebrity. Unlike the rest of the drivers on the grid, you didn't come from an extremely wealthy family. Your family spent THOUSANDS for you to prepare to be in F1, from karting lessons, personal trainers, getting you a manager, and so so sooo much more.

This was your way to show your family that it was worth it, all of those loans and sacrifices they made would pay off. You planned to earn every penny back and pay your family 10 folds the original amount.

As the light switched from yellow to green, you slammed that gas pedal hard as you tried your best to keep up. You weren't in the front, but near the middle which was terrifying. The sound of all the engines revving as they started to cut each other off, fall behind, or make it out of the traffic.

Unluckily for you, you were not part of the last group. You saw a clean opening to sneak past everyone and rush to the front of the race, but so did Charles. As you raced to be first to this secret path, Charles was right besides you and was trying to find a chance to cut you off and take your spot.

Obviously you weren't going to give it to him, why the hell would you? But as you were about to scoff at his attempt, you felt a harsh hit to your rear end. Your car jolted forward, launching into a different driver's car.

As if it was a domino's effect, your little push forward ended up crashing 3 other people. You could already hear the negative comments and memes. This was your home race, and you didn't even make it past the first lap! Not only that, getting out 3 other racers was bound to make everyone in the crowd mad. As you sat there, already sweating and anxious, you heard the crowd roar in "boos".

Out of anxiety, you knew you needed to deflect the blame somehow - let the crowd know it's not your fault! "I'M GONNA SHOOT WHOEVER'S BEHIND ME!!!" You say in a frustrated strained voice. You were trying so hard to hide the tears in your throat.

As you aggressively turned around, you were face to face with Charles... Sweet little guy Charles...

Fuck the fans were gonna hate you even more.....

As you stared at him, lost in thought of how your PR team would have to work overtime for you - Charles thought you were just staring deeply at him as a threat, as if you were really planning to shoot him. He puts both of his hands up slowly, "Let me win one championship and then kill me, maybe?"

LANDO N. || 04

You and Lando entered the pit stop at the same exact time. A sigh of relief left your lips when you saw him follow you into the pit lanes instead of rushing ahead of you. Both of your tires were almost completely ruined, there were small bumps on them which could have ended awfully if you pushed for one more lap.

The only bad thing is that Lando's garage was two in front of you, meaning you'd need to have a super quick pit stop in order to catch up to him. Thank god that your mechanics were on their "A" game and actually got you a fast pit stop. What was even better was the fact that you could see Lando's garage struggling to put his tires on for some odd reason.

You smirked as you rushed out of the pit lane, going full speed ahead. This was your chance for a pole position - your first ever pole position. As a rookie, this would have been amazing for your career and definitely give you tons of sponsors, fame, and so much more.

This could be everything for you - except it was ripped away from you

In a desperate attempt to try and take P1 position from you, Lando bursted out of his garage, hoping to cut you off. But your car was faster than he expected, making his car completely crash into you.

It was an awful rookie mistake, terribly embarrassing for both of you. You could already hear the angry comments and debates on who's at fault - either Lando for being too pushy or you for speeding in the pit lane.

But regardless of who the media chooses to blame, you already picked to blame Lando with all your heart. You groan angryily into your mic, the damage done to both of your cars was awful. Your engine took a crucial hit and Lando's front wing was basically destroyed.

You groaned loudly, cursing under your breathe - already knowing that this would disqualify you.

"Fuck that little twink!" You say angrily as you rip off your helmet, only to make eye contact with said twink.

The twink looks down at you, his helmet was already off and he stred at you with a serious face. But his serious face slowly broke down into a smile and he let out a soft chuckle.

His smile turned into a cocky smirk as he said, "I'm quite the opposite of a twink."

OSCAR P. || 81

The amount of sweat you had dripping down you was insane. The heat of Monaco wasn't helping you either as you were pushing your body to the limit to turn the wheel to the tight twists of turns of the circuit. But it was worth it, since you were fighting for P2.

Pole position was basically secured by Max, since he was almost a whopping 9 seconds ahead of you. He was basically alone and chilling by himself. But, you didn't even care that you wouldn't get pole position, P2 was great and would help your team a lot.

Unfortunately, your teammate had an emergency hospital visit, meaning one of the reserved drivers would have to step up and drive alongside you. This was fun and cute at first, meeting someone who was younger than you and a rookie. But it turned sour after they completely crashed into the walls at full speed, destroying the entire car.

You could hear your engineer and mechanics losing their shit on the radio, screaming and cursing as they had to figure out a way to fix the car in time for the next races. They could just retire the car, but for some reason your team was so short on money, probably due to amount of crashes your actual partner gets into... You were the saving grace for this team, and god damn was the press amazing for you.

But the only thing stopping you from getting even more love from the media for "saving the day with a P2 position" was stupid Oscar Piastri. The most deadpan Australian you've ever met who couldn't match your energy at all. He was so odd, it constantly felt as if he was judging you despite you having a very good track history.

For some reason, he's always been extra cold to you. He's super nice to everyone: but you - and you literally can't name a single reason why. You even tried to become his friend at one point, sending him small gifts, complimenting him, and even stalking him to find out his interests.

But it was like your efforts made him dislike you even more, as he started to make passive aggressive jokes towards you and your skill. He even went as far as to joke and say you might lose your spot to Paul Aron, your close friend. From that day, you've hated Oscar as much as he hated you.

He was tailing you, constantly trying to get closer and take that position from you. Everyone in the fanbase basically considered you rivals since you two were almost always fighting each other. And you agree with them, he was your rival.

You continued to drive as usual, feeling the adrenaline hit a high as you saw a turn up ahead. This could be a massive risk, a chance for Oscar to sneak in. But you were confident that you could keep your spot, as long as you drove safely and followed the plan your strategist made for you.

But as you tried to recall the strategy you were supposed to follow - the entire idea left your mind as your car was rear-ended by Oscar fucking Piastri. The stupid annoying orange driver accidentally ran into you since you were defending so well.

Your car stopped and so did his. His entire car was reared into yours - destroying his front and doing extreme damage to your back. Somehow, Oscar never failed to piss you off and take away great opportunities from you.

"This fucking idiot!!! His brain is the size of a fucking atom!!!" You shout into the mic as you hit your car out of anger. "Send him to a fucking MRI scan!!!"

You huffed out - already knowing that you would strangle Oscar the second you hopped out of your car. It would be just like Max and Ocon except it would end with Oscar's head on a stick. As you lifted your body out of the car, you made eye contact with Oscar who was also leaving his car.

You flipped him off, shoving it right into his face. Although your face was hidden from your helmet, Oscar could tell you were fuming and had a murderous stare.

"Acktually, all things are made up of atoms, including the brain." He says, with his usual smart-ass tone. What a fucking nerd.

LANCE S. || 18

Everyone on the track was aware of the Lance Stroll memes, even Lance himself. It was a common fact that if you saw Lance around you: run. That was the first advice you ever got from Max during your first season. But you never really saw Lance, mostly due to his constant crashes and also the fact that he was almost never above P10.

But for once, the track was basically soaking wet, Lance's speciality. Most racer were struggling in some form, 3 crashes already happened and it was only the 35th lap out of 65. But rain wasn't an issue for you, since it was also your speciality.

You and Lance were toe to toe, battling to see who you get the P2 position. Lance was right behind you, trying to snatch it away from you. But you were determined to just keep going, possibly even brake checking him to hopefully make him spin out of control.

As you continued on for almost 4 more laps, you realized that Lance wasn't going to falter any time soon. If anything, he was closer to you than before, having only 0.762 seconds behind you.

It was a risk, you knew this. But with the high pressure to keep your first ever P2 spot in your first season was way too high. Your team was silent as well, not offering any tips or advice to you. So, you decided to do it:

You sprinted in-front of Lance and then began to break check him. It was a massive dick move, you were aware, but sometimes you needed to play a bit dirty to win. Besides, Lance isn't a clean player himself.

But, the risk wasn't worth it. As Lance panicked at your sudden break check - making him jolt his wheel to the left - banging directly into your back end. The slippery track didn't play in your favor, as your tires were already worn out. Your car slid forward, threatening to tip over completely.

As if karma was beating your ass, it did. Your car flipped forward, making the car come to a final stop with you upside down. It went by so fast to you that all you could feel was dizzy, unsure if you even landed the crash.

"This fucking IDIOT!!!" You say, louder than you expected "Get him out of F1 already!!!" You groan loudly as you start to feel some pain in your head due to the blood rushing to your brain.

You struggled but luckily were able to put your torso out of the car, but your legs were stuck. Trying to grab the ground to claw out was useless since it was soaking wet and your leather gloves were slippery. "FUCK that little Canadian"

As you said that, you felt a strong tug that yanked you completely out of the car... It was Lance. Oops...

You looked up at him, still annoyed and dizzy from the impact. But he simply just whipped off the dirt and water from your helmet's visor. Instantly, you felt bad for cursing him out and wishing the worse for him. But just as you say that, he replies:

"Are you sure I'm little?" He says in a condescending tone. The fact he didn't bother to correct anything else you said or even apologize first made you smack his hand away from you.

"FUCK that jumbo size Canadian." You say as a correction as the medical team came to examine you both.

GEORGE R. || 63

You were so close to getting P4, which would be impressive due to the shit pitstop you had. Anger was already high for you after the awfully slow pitstop and even worse, your usual strategist was out due to an illness. That means you were left with some random 50 year old guy yapping about your next move, which was always given 10 seconds too late.

"Alright (Y/N)," you heard him grumble onto the mic, his dry throat evident in every word he spoke. His voice was already annoying, but when you heard him gulp down some water instead of helping you, you were fucking livid. "I think you should uhmm,, maybe... hmmm." He said as if he was an 80 years old with dementia who forgot his grandkid's name.

Cursing under your breath, you just ignored him and continued onward. Although you were in a Ferrari, you could feel the car getting tired from how hard you were pushing it. You were so close to catching up to P4, you just needed to pass George Russell.

A turn was up ahead, perfect for an overtake. You planned it all in your head, the gap that George left open was exactly what you needed. You sped up, trying to sneak past his right side and hopefully take P3.

But that dream was crushed, as for some reason George decided to aggressively steer right - crashing directly into you. Both of you began to spin out of control, luckily George hit a tire wall. But you were less fortunate, getting tossed all the way off the tracks and into a random tire wall several meters away from the original crash spot.

The anger, disappointment, and guilt was too much for you to handle as you shouted into the mic, that was turned on accidentally without your knowledge:

"THIS FAT HEADED ASSHOLE!!! I hope his mom never makes another one!" You shouted as you waited for your slow operators to instruct you when it was safe to get out of the car.

You held your helmeted-head in your hands, too frustrated to even look up. A grumble escaped your lips before you let out a harsh sigh, you wanted to strangle someone. You wanted to hit your steering wheel, maybe run out of the car and just punch George (as if that would do any damage), but you knew it would get clipped and ruin your reptutation.

Sitting down alone waiting for your shit operators was actually great for you. You calmed down your nerves and rolled your head and shoulders, finally opening your eyes.

But as you looked around, you saw George... oops.....

The second his team gave him the "okay" to get out of his car, he rushed to where you crashed and wanted to check on you. He felt so guilty and embarrassed to cause such a horrific crash. His face was completely hidden by his darkly tinted helmet, but his hand stretched out to help you out. You let go of your breath, his hospitality a clear sign that he didn't hear you.

Hesitating, you took his hand and his harsh grip that pulled you out... He definitely heard you. You looked at him, unsure of what to start with. An apology? Cursing him out? Saying nothing at all? Luckily, you didn't have to choose.

"I think you have quite the bigger head than me." He argues back.

"I beg to differ," You say, unsure if he's playing with you or not, "I mean, have you seen the size your fucking cranium?"

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

[ladybyakuya]

are we still friends? + (togame jo, sugista kyotaro,choji tomiyama,kota sako)

cws. | gn!reader, headcanon + scenarios format, sorta character study, fluff, angst, comfort. | redirect to blog navigation.

syn. | How do they react to confession when the feelings are mutual?

notes. | omg! here's part two. read part one here. enjoy <3

☆ Togame Jo : "Did Choji put you up for this?" Togame enquires with a sharp tone, eyebrows ever so slightly growing close to each other that it goes away when you blink. The question hits you like a stone on your head. Why would he do that? unless . . . he already did that what's it got anything to do with him? Did Choji pull a prank like this before? and he might have liked them. . . and might not have. . .pushing the thoughts aside  you ask keeping your voice as even as possible,

"Would your answer be any different if that wasn't the case?" Of course, he has his wall high up. Not only that, the surface of the wall is full of sharp spikes so that no one can climb, not even you. It is no surprise that he would be so rude when a wave of affection washes over him. You force a smile upon your face and look down. The empty bottle of the cold drink containing a marble ball that was circling a while ago comes to a halt now. That's right. He should not have said that out loud. It is surprising in the first place when someone like you, so far away from his world is into him and it is even more surprising when you have the heart to confess. He did not mean to sound rude. . .It's just that . . .

"Sorry, I should not have asked that." He says trying his best he can to keep himself. He takes a quick glance at you through the corner of his eyes. Even for a split second, he saw your lips trembling. He curses himself keeping the bottle aside on the bench. "Well, no." His voice is so low, so meek that he has to clear his throat and straighten up before speaking. "No. Absolutely not. My answer would not change." was he scared? wait, he is . . . scared? He has never been the one to pray to God but now, at this moment with all his heart he asks the heavens not to let you cry. He does not wish to witness that since he does not know how to handle it. He has only been known to handle things with violence and dominance, not with talking and kindness. He takes off his glasses and stands up to face you who is still sitting on the bench head down as if gravity is growing stronger at each second. You feel a wind pass by before a cloth rests on your back, embracing your shoulders. You look up with eyes full of water up to the brim. "That's . . . that's my way of telling."

It takes a moment to sink into you what he actually meant and wear his jacket properly thinking how emotionally constipated he is. what is this? A competition? you let out a long hum.

"that's all you have to say?" Togame says impatiently. "I tell you that you like you and all you say is "hmm", huh? You grin from war to ear, and standing up you pinch his cheeks. He does not recoil like a spring-like you expected him to.

"Yeah. You said that now." Togame looks away unable to meet your water-full eyes anymore, warmth spreading over his cheeks, ears and even neck.

★ Sugishita Kyotaro

Sugishita's world is totally mapped out and it all revolves around Umemiya-san. But the moment you said you like him, his everlasting face of boredom did not do much except his eyebrows grew closer together. Is that the face of a surprised person? You ponder but it is meaningless because his eyes are onto you and all he is doing is to inspect you. If the wills and worlds had the potential he would put you under microscope. But even with so much effort all he does is to ask the most stupid question ever. “Do you? Do you really like me? You nod since your throat has become dry. He chins his face for a second and then turns towards you asking with a mellowed tone, “Is it the “i like you as a lover” or ...?” He does not get to finish his sentence while you cover your face and nod tremendously. almost five times in a row. His eyes spread wide. You are covering your face. You do not wish to see his reaction, nor prepared for the answer he is about to give. You feel a feather touch around your wrists as he whispers, “i do too. I like you too.” as he peels off your hand carefully. As someone who is known to be only talking with fists he certainly is not rigid and rough with you. He holds your hand as you look at him for a few seconds and then guides your palms over his cheeks. “y/n-san, Tell me again that you like me and I'll tell you again.” he says sinking in to your touch.

☆ Choji Tomiyama

"Huh?" It was all he could say when those magical words came out of your mouth. Within a blink of your eyes, he jumps so high that you feel if he really wanted, he could touch the sky. Then his cheeks puff a little before a devasted choice of words escapes his mouth,“It’s not fair. I wanted to say it at first,” When it registers in your head you think he might have misheard you so you try to say again but he quickly grabs your hand saying, “Why didn't you give me heads up? I wanted to tell you first that I like you. It's not fairrrreee.” if anything's is unfair is that how a leader seems to act in such a childlike manner but it's okay. This is why you fell for him. He stops whining and says in one breath, "So, then I'll be the one to take you on a date. " he is still holding your hand.

★ Kota Sako

For someone who's eyes are always glued on Hiragi, movements and talks trying to imitate Hiragi he certainly is more than aware of himself and his surroundings. You expect him to brush away your plea when you ask him to stay after the class or even just decline you by saying that he is busy or the worst: simply ignoring you even after hearing. But none of that happens. He waits for you after the class patiently, listens to all you have to say, and then says, "I'll think about it." while internally practically panicking so hard that his head starts to hurt by the time he reaches home. When you reach home, you get a text from an unknown number saying, "So, let's date then. -Sako."

[amyzworldds]

omg we need a part two to a tale of unsaid love PLS

Part Two: A Tale of Unsaid Love

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3

Vernon’s return from tour pulls Y/N into a whirlwind of messages, gifts, and a reunion that blurs the lines between friendship and something deeper, stirring feelings she’s long suppressed. Pairing: Vernon x reader Genre: Fluff, lil bit of angst, slice of life

Y/N’s phone buzzed against her desk for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. She glanced at it warily, already knowing who it was. Vernon. The guy hadn’t stopped texting since he woke up—probably still sprawled on that hotel bed when he sent the first one: “Up now. Tour’s officially done. Feels weird.” Then, five minutes later: “At the airport now. Security’s slow af.” And every few minutes after that, like he was narrating his entire existence: “Boarding. Plane smells like stale coffee.” “Window seat, but the view’s just clouds. Lame.”

She was at work, buried in emails and pretending to care about spreadsheets, so she couldn’t respond much beyond a quick “Cool, safe flight” earlier. Now, as her break time finally rolled around, she unlocked her phone and nearly dropped it. Twenty-seven messages. Twenty-seven. All from Vernon, timestamped down to the minute. She scrolled through, half-amused, half-horrified.

“Flight’s delayed by 10 mins. Annoying.” “They’re handing out snacks. Took the pretzels.” “Just took off. Turbulence already. Pray for me.” “Landed. Korea, baby. Missed this place.” “Baggage claim. My suitcase is taking forever.”

The list went on, a play-by-play of his morning like he was live-tweeting his life just for her. She was about to type a sarcastic “Do you ever stop?” when a little bubble popped up—three dots. He was typing again. Before she could brace herself, the message pinged through: “Oh you already seen my messages time to facetime me. FASTER.”

She stared at it, blinking. “Demanding little—” she muttered under her breath, sighing as she hit the call button. The screen barely had time to load before Vernon’s face filled it, his hoodie pulled low over his eyes, a grin splitting his face. He was in an airport lounge or something, the background blurry with people dragging suitcases.

“Finally!” he exclaimed, leaning closer to the camera. “What took you so long? I’ve been dying over here.”

“I’m at work, Vernon,” she said, keeping her voice low so her coworkers wouldn’t overhear. “Some of us have jobs that don’t involve screaming fans and private jets.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “You should’ve taken the day off. I’m back in Korea now! You didn’t even ditch for me. Rude.”

She rolled her eyes, leaning back in the break room chair. “I can’t just skip work because you’re back. I have bills. Responsibilities. Adult stuff.”

“Adult stuff’s overrated,” he grumbled, slumping in his seat. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, and you’re not here. What’s the point of coming home if you’re not waiting at my apartment with food?”

She snorted. “What am I, your personal chef now?”

“Yes,” he said, dead serious. “Come over. Cook for me. I’ll pay you. Name your price—just ditch work and get over here.”

“Vernon, no,” she said, though a laugh slipped out despite herself. “I’m not quitting my job to make you ramen.”

“I’ll order the ingredients,” he pressed, undeterred. “And a cab. And I’ll Venmo you double your paycheck. Triple. Whatever it takes. I haven’t seen you in forever, and you’re out here acting like you don’t even miss me.”

“I do miss you,” she said before she could stop herself, then immediately regretted it when his eyes lit up.

“See? You do miss me! So leave early. Sneak out. Say you’re sick—cough a little, sell it. Your boss won’t care.”

“My boss would fire me,” she shot back, though she was grinning now. “You’re such a bad influence.”

“I’m the best influence,” he corrected, leaning so close to the camera she could see the faint shadows under his eyes. “Come on, Y/N. I’m jet-lagged, I’m starving, and I just survived a world tour. Don’t I deserve a welcome home meal from my best friend?”

She groaned, rubbing her temple. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he said, smirking. “Seriously, though. Ditch. I’ll handle everything.”

Before she could argue again, a voice cut through the break room—her boss, poking his head in. “Hey, everyone, good news. System’s down for maintenance, so we’re cutting the day short. You can all head out after lunch.”

Y/N froze, her jaw dropping slightly. Vernon caught it instantly, his eyes widening before he let out a triumphant “Yes!” so loud it echoed through the phone. Heads turned—her coworkers glancing over with raised brows—and she sank lower in her chair, mortified.

“Vernon, shut up!” she hissed, covering her face.

“Did you hear that? You’re free!” he crowed, practically bouncing in his seat. “That’s fate, Y/N. The universe wants you to come to my place. I’m booking your cab right now.”

“Vernon, I didn’t even say—” she started, but he was already tapping away at his phone, ignoring her protests.

“Done,” he said, looking up with a grin. “ETA 10 minutes. Get your stuff and go outside. I’m texting you the details.”

She stared at him, torn between laughing and screaming. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re welcome,” he said, winking. “Bring your cooking energy. I want something good—none of that instant ramen crap. Real food. I’ve been living off plane meals and protein bars.”

“You’re so spoiled,” she muttered, but she was already standing, grabbing her bag from under the table. Her coworkers were chattering about their unexpected half-day, oblivious to the chaos Vernon was causing in her life. “Fine. But you’re doing the dishes.”

“Deal,” he said instantly. “Just get here. I’m starving, and I need my Y/N fix.”

She sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “You’re lucky I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t,” he said confidently, his voice softening. “See you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, quieter now, her heart doing that familiar, painful twist. “See you.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N fumbled with the spare key Vernon had given her ages ago—“Just in case,” he’d said with that casual shrug of his, like it was no big deal to hand over access to his life. The cab dropped her off in front of his apartment building, and her phone was still buzzing in her hand, Vernon’s sleepy voice droning on through the call he refused to end. She’d tried—“Vernon, I’m here, I’ll see you soon, go nap or something”—but he’d just mumbled, “Nah, stay on. I’m almost there. Keep me company.”

Now, as she pushed open the door and stepped inside, the familiar scent of his place hit her—faint traces of his cologne mixed with that clean, minimalist vibe he somehow maintained despite his chaos. The call crackled slightly as he shifted on his end, probably still sprawled in the back of his own cab. “You in yet?” he asked, voice thick with exhaustion.

“Yeah,” she said, kicking off her shoes and setting her bag by the door. “It’s weird being here without you. Feels like I’m breaking in.”

He chuckled, low and lazy. “You’ve got the key, dummy. It’s your place too, kinda.”

Her heart stuttered at that, but she brushed it off, heading for the kitchen. “Don’t say stuff like that. You’ll regret it when I start redecorating.”

“Do it,” he said, unfazed. “Put up some of those weird cat posters you like. I’d live with it.”

She rolled her eyes, though he couldn’t see, and glanced at the counter. True to his word, a delivery bag sat there—groceries he’d ordered while whining about being hungry. “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, unpacking the haul: fresh veggies, rice, some beef, soy sauce. “You really expect me to cook while you’re just… what, napping?”

“Pretty much,” he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice. “You’re the best, Y/N. I’m, like, five minutes out. Maybe ten. Don’t hang up.”

“I’m hanging up,” she threatened, already rinsing the rice.

“No, you’re not,” he said confidently, and damn it, he was right. She didn’t.

So there she was, phone propped on the counter, Vernon’s soft breathing filling the silence as she chopped vegetables and stir-fried beef. He’d gone quiet—probably dozed off again—and she let him, the rhythm of cooking soothing her frayed nerves. Every so often, he’d stir, mutter something incoherent like, “Smells good already,” and she’d scoff, “You can’t smell it through the phone, weirdo.”

By the time the food was done—beef stir-fry with rice and a side of steamed broccoli—she heard him perk up. “Okay, I’m close. Pulling into the building now. Don’t eat without me.”

“Too late,” she teased, plating the food. “It’s all gone.”

“Liar,” he said, and then, after a pause, “Alright, I’m here. Gotta hang up—luggage and stuff. See you in a sec.”

The call finally ended, and she exhaled, setting her phone down. The sudden quiet felt strange after hours of his voice in her ear. She grabbed a soda from his fridge, plopped onto the couch, and flicked on the TV, picking some random movie she’d seen a dozen times. Her eyes kept drifting to the door, though, waiting. She could still hear his tired drawl from earlier, see the way his face had softened on the screen. He was running on fumes, and yet he’d spent all day tethered to her.

The doorbell rang, snapping her out of her thoughts. She frowned, hauling herself up. “Seriously?” she muttered, trudging over. “You’ve got a key, Vernon.”

She swung the door open, ready to complain—“Why are you ringing your own doorbell like some delivery guy?”—but the words died in her throat. Vernon stood there, luggage at his feet, looking like he’d been through a warzone and back. His hoodie was rumpled, his hair a mess, and his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. Before she could say anything, he stepped forward and crashed into her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug that knocked the air out of her lungs.

“Missed you,” he mumbled into her shoulder, his voice muffled and warm.

Her heart leapt into her throat, hammering so loud she was sure he’d hear it. She stood there, frozen, arms hovering awkwardly before settling around him. He smelled like airplane and sweat and him, and it was too much—too close, too real. She wanted to shove him off, tell him to stop making this so hard, but instead she just… stayed. His weight leaned into her, solid and grounding, and for a second, she let herself sink into it.

“Vernon,” she managed, voice tight. “You’re crushing me.”

He pulled back just enough to grin at her, that lopsided, boyish smile that wrecked her every time. “Good. You deserve it for not ditching work sooner.” Then, like it was nothing, he let go, brushed past her, and made a beeline for the kitchen. “Oh my God, it smells amazing in here. You’re a legend.”

She stood there, still by the door, staring at his luggage like it held the answers she didn’t have. Her chest ached—sharp and twisting, like she’d been rolling on needles, just as she’d feared. That hug, his voice, the way he’d clung to her like she was his anchor—it wasn’t helping. It was fuel, piling onto the fire she’d been trying to smother for years. She pressed a hand to her sternum, willing her heart to calm down, but it wouldn’t listen.

“Y/N!” Vernon’s voice snapped her back, calling from the kitchen. “You gonna stand there all day or come eat with me? I’m starving, and I’m not waiting.”

She shook her head, forcing her feet to move. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” she said, closing the door behind her. He was already at the counter, piling food onto a plate, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. Normal. So painfully normal.

“You didn’t burn down my kitchen, so I’d say this is a win,” he said, glancing up with a smirk. “Sit. Eat. Tell me I’m the best for making you come over.”

“You’re the worst,” she shot back, sliding onto a stool across from him. “I should’ve stayed at work.”

“Lies,” he said through a mouthful of stir-fry. “You love me.”

She froze mid-bite, her chopsticks hovering. He didn’t notice, too busy shoveling food and rambling about the tour, but her mind spun. You love me. He’d said it so easily, like a throwaway line, but it hit her like a freight train. She did. She loved him—too much, too deep—and every second with him was another needle under her skin, pricking at the hope she kept trying to bury.

“You okay?” he asked suddenly, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You’re zoning out.”

“Yeah,” she lied, forcing a smile. “Just tired. Long day.”

He nodded, accepting it, and went back to eating. Normal. Always normal. And she hated how much she craved it—how much she craved him.

“Next time,” he said between bites, “you’re taking the day off. No excuses. I’m not surviving another tour without you waiting here when I get back.”

She laughed, weak and shaky, and nodded. “Sure, Vernon.”

But inside, she was screaming. Stop giving me reasons to fall harder. Stop making me love you more. Because every hug, every call, every stupid grin was another thread tying her to him—and she wasn’t sure she’d ever break free.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The clatter of dishes in the sink was oddly grounding, a small slice of normalcy after the whirlwind of Vernon’s arrival. Y/N lingered at the counter, picking at the last bits of stir-fry on her plate while Vernon scrubbed away, humming some tune she vaguely recognized from one of his setlists. True to his word, he’d taken dish duty without complaint, sleeves rolled up and soap suds clinging to his hands. It was domestic, almost too much so, and she had to look away before her mind ran wild again.

“Done,” he announced, shaking water off his fingers and wiping them on a towel. “See? I’m not totally useless.”

“Debatable,” she shot back, sliding her plate toward him with a smirk. “You missed a spot.”

He rolled his eyes but took it anyway, giving it a quick rinse. She used the moment to escape the kitchen, dragging his luggage from the doorstep where it still sat, abandoned after his dramatic entrance. It was heavier than she expected—probably stuffed with tour chaos—and she tugged it into the living room, parking it near the couch before flopping down with a huff.

The TV flickered back to life as she hit play on the movie, some mindless action flick she’d picked to drown out the noise in her head. Her pulse was still racing from that hug—his arms around her, his warmth, the way he’d just held her like it was the most natural thing in the world. She pulled a throw blanket over her lap, clutching it like a shield, and tried to focus on the screen. Explosions. Car chases. Anything but the fact that Vernon was still here, still close, still making her heart feel like it was about to burst.

“Hey, you didn’t have to move that,” Vernon said, strolling in from the kitchen. He spotted his suitcase and grinned, grabbing the handle and pulling it right in front of her. “Perfect timing, though. I’ve got stuff to show you.”

She raised an eyebrow, sinking deeper into the couch. “Stuff?”

“Yeah, stuff,” he said, plopping onto the floor and unzipping the bag with a flourish. “Tour spoils. Check it out.”

Her breath caught as he started unloading a chaotic pile of treasures, his hands moving with the same easy confidence he always had. First came a tiny ceramic cat from Japan, white with a goofy grin. “Saw this in Osaka,” he said, holding it up. “Reminded me of that time you tried to adopt that stray in high school. You cried when it scratched you.”

“I didn’t cry,” she protested, though her cheeks warmed. “I was just… mad.”

“Sure,” he teased, setting the cat on the coffee table. Next was a keychain from Paris, a miniature Eiffel Tower with a little beret on top. “This was just funny. You’d hate how tacky it is, but I had to get it.”

She snorted, reaching for it. “It’s hideous. You’re right.”

“Told you,” he said, digging deeper. A snow globe from New York, a glittery mess of skyscrapers. “Thought of you when it snowed there. You’d love the chaos.” A woven bracelet from Thailand, bright orange and green. “This was cheap, but it’s your vibe—loud.” A pack of candy from London, some weird sour thing he swore she’d like. “You’d eat these ‘til your tongue hurts.”

Item after item, he laid them out like a map of his tour, each one tied to her in some small, stupid, perfect way. He grinned the whole time, proud and oblivious, like it was no big deal that he’d spent months collecting pieces of her in every city. “And this,” he said, pulling out a tiny plush octopus from Seoul, “I got today at the airport. It’s got your grumpy face when I call too early.”

She stared at the pile, her throat tight. “Vernon… you got all this for me?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging like it was obvious. “Every stop, I’d see something and think, ‘Y/N would laugh at this,’ or ‘She’d hate it, so I have to get it.’ Kept me sane on the road.”

Her heart was screaming, pounding so loud she was sure he’d hear it over the movie’s gunfire. She clutched the octopus, its little stitched frown mocking her, and tried to breathe. This wasn’t normal—not the way he made it seem. Friends didn’t do this, didn’t scour the world for trinkets because they couldn’t stop thinking about each other. Did they? She wanted to ask, to demand what it meant, but the words stuck, trapped behind years of pretending.

“You didn’t have to,” she managed, voice smaller than she meant it to be.

“I wanted to,” he said simply, leaning back on his hands. “You’re my person, Y/N. Gotta bring you something back, right?”

My person. The words landed like a punch, soft and devastating. She forced a laugh, shoving the plush octopus onto the table with the rest. “You’re so weird,” she said, turning back to the TV, praying he wouldn’t notice how her hands shook.

“Says the weirdo who named a random cat Shadow,” he shot back, nudging her knee with his foot. “You keeping all this, or what?”

“Of course I’m keeping it,” she said, too fast, then caught herself. “I mean… it’s free stuff. Who says no to that?”

He laughed, satisfied, and hauled himself onto the couch beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. “Good. Now tell me this movie’s plot, ‘cause I’m lost.”

She swallowed hard, hyper-aware of every inch between them—or lack of it. “Uh… guy’s mad, stuff explodes, car chase. That’s it.”

“Classic,” he said, settling in, oblivious to the storm raging inside her.

She stared at the screen, the chaos blurring into nothing. Her mind was on the pile of gifts, the way he’d smiled as he handed them over, the hug still lingering on her skin. He wasn’t helping—not one bit. Every move he made, every word, was another thread pulling her under, deeper into a love she couldn’t escape. She cursed her heart for hoping, for twisting this into something it wasn’t. He was just Vernon. Her best friend. That was all.

But as he laughed at some dumb explosion on screen, leaning into her just a little more, she felt the needles again—sharp, relentless, and oh-so-sweet. And she hated how much she didn’t hate it.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The movie droned on, explosions and one-liners fading into white noise as Y/N’s mind spun circles around itself. Vernon’s pile of gifts sat on the coffee table, a quiet testament to how much space she took up in his world—a space she wasn’t sure she was allowed to claim. She barely registered the plot, her fingers twisting the edge of the blanket in her lap, when Vernon stretched and stood up.

“Gonna change,” he said, yawning as he shuffled toward his room. “These jeans are killing me.”

She nodded absently, eyes fixed on the screen but seeing nothing. “Yeah, sure.”

He disappeared down the hall, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The room felt bigger without him in it, less suffocating, but it didn’t stop the ache in her chest. She tried to focus—car chase, bad guy yelling, something about a bomb—but her thoughts kept drifting back to that hug, his voice, the way he’d said “You’re my person” like it was the simplest truth in the world.

A few minutes later, Vernon reappeared, barefoot and drowning in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, a blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape. He looked softer like this, less like the untouchable star she’d watched grow bigger than life, more like the boy she’d known forever. He didn’t say anything, just flopped onto the couch beside her and, without warning, dropped his head into her lap.

“Vernon—” she started, voice catching, but he was already settling in, curling up like a cat claiming its spot.

“Comfy,” he mumbled, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t move.”

Her hands hovered awkwardly above him, unsure where to land. His hair spilled across her thighs, messy and still a little damp, and she could feel the warmth of him seeping through her jeans. She stared down at him, her breath shallow, and realized he was already out—lips parted, breathing slow and steady. Asleep. Just like that.

The movie flickered on, but she couldn’t hear it over the pounding in her ears. He was so close—too close—and she was trapped under the weight of him, both literal and not. She sat there for a while, rigid, letting the moment stretch until her legs started to tingle. Carefully, she slid out from under him, easing his head onto a throw pillow with all the precision of defusing a bomb. He didn’t stir, just nuzzled deeper into the cushion, and she let herself smile despite everything.

She stood, tiptoeing around the room to dim the lights. The TV went off with a soft click, and she pulled the curtains shut, blocking out the late afternoon sun that threatened to creep in. Vernon deserved the rest—he’d been running on fumes for weeks—and she’d give him that, even if her heart was a mess because of it.

Blanket still clutched in her hands, she turned back to him. He looked peaceful sprawled out on the couch, one arm dangling off the edge, the other tucked against his chest. She stepped closer, draping the blanket over him, tucking it up to his shoulders. Her fingers brushed his collarbone by accident, and she froze, but he didn’t move. Just slept, oblivious to the war inside her.

She straightened, ready to grab her bag and slip out—let him crash in peace, figure out her feelings somewhere else. But as she turned, a hand shot out, catching her wrist. She gasped, stumbling, and before she could catch her balance, Vernon tugged her down. She landed against his chest with a soft thud, her hands splaying against his hoodie as his arms wrapped around her, loose but firm.

“Stay,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep, eyes still closed. “Sleep. We’ll talk later.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs, so loud she was sure it’d wake him. “Vernon—” she whispered, but he just hugged her tighter, his cheek pressing into her hair.

“Shh,” he slurred, already drifting back under. “Later.”

She lay there, half-sprawled across him, her mind a tangle of panic and something softer, warmer. His breathing evened out again, deep and slow, and his grip slackened but didn’t let go. She could feel his heartbeat under her palm, steady and maddening, and her own pulse raced to match it. Talk later? About what? The questions clawed at her—why not now? What did he mean?—but his warmth was pulling her under, lulling her despite herself.

She should’ve gotten up. Should’ve pried herself free and bolted out the door, given herself space to breathe, to think. But she didn’t. She stayed, her cheek resting against his chest, the blanket tangled between them. His scent—faint cologne and laundry detergent—wrapped around her, and she hated how much she didn’t hate it. How much she wanted to sink into this, let herself believe it was more than it was.

Her eyes drifted shut, exhaustion tugging at her edges. Just for a minute, she told herself. Just until she could figure out how to untangle this mess in her heart. But as she hovered on the edge of sleep, Vernon’s arm tightened around her, pulling her closer, and she felt those needles again—sharp, relentless, and piercingly sweet.

What were they going to talk about? And why did it feel like everything was about to change?

[moonstruckme]

hayy!! so tonight i went to a small little show that my friend was doing with his band, and me and the bassist made crazy eye contact while he sang the lyrics “good, i’m proud of you” to me. (i’m dead) ANYWAYY it made me think, this is kinda out there but maybe a james potter band au?? like he’s a drummer or bassist and you keep making crazy eye contact and the tension is THICK.. (maybe even some groupie activity later??) IDKK i’d love to see youre interpretation 😋 or even just to chat about it!!! i love you’re work sm

That sounds so fun babe! Thanks for sharing omg <3

cw: bar

rockstar!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

As much as you like Marlene, you’d sort of thought her band was going to be shitty. And in your defense, most of the ones who play this venue, where the crowd is typically too drunk to care what sound fills the space and it only costs a few quid to get in, are pretty amateurish. They’ll play their one or two original songs, then fill the rest of their time with covers, trying all the while to figure out how to work the stage and engage the crowd. 

These guys definitely don’t seem like amateurs. 

Marlene had said they were just starting out, but you don’t believe it. She, as you expected, is incredible. She embodies this fierce, uncaring kind of cool, fingers sliding up and down the neck of her electric guitar with skill you didn’t know she had. The guys in the band aren’t half bad either. The singer has a voice that seems always on the edge of a scream, and he and Marlene play off each other’s energy, him occasionally leaning the mic her way to belt something together. The bassist seems a bit aloof, long fingers moving with an almost lazy dexterity, which seems to be driving the people clustered at the edge of the stage even madder than they might be if he paid them any attention. And the drummer…

Perhaps you’re partial to the drummer because he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be cool at all. There’s something completely uninhibited about him that lights something in your chest and sends a buzz of excitement through the room, like you’re all feeding off his energy. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. Sweat shines brilliantly on his dusky skin and drips off the ends of curly brown hair that’s just long enough to flop into his eyes. Someone threw him a headband earlier in the show seemingly to help prevent this, so now he’s got it pushed back, curls protruding from his head and bouncing as he bobs enthusiastically to the beat. A smile splits his face as he launches into a brief solo, and coincidentally your stomach erupts in butterflies at precisely the same time. 

You’re thinking of trying to jostle your way up to the barricade when the drummer’s eyes take another skim of the crowd, and this time they catch on you. Your heart stutters. A tall figure moves in front of you, obscuring your view of the stage, and when they pass the drummer’s still looking at you. And holy shit. This is eye contact. You’re not totally sure how well he can see you what with the lighting in here, but it feels like his eyes are looking right into yours and saying Hello, nice to meet you. 

A few seconds more and he has to tear his attention away as they go back into the chorus, but your eyes keep finding each other’s. It feels more intimate than it probably should, with several meters of distance between you and the crowded, raucous atmosphere, but you can’t help the giddy lightness that accumulates in your chest over the course of the set. 

During what the singer says will be their last song, his gaze flicks to you with something different in it. It’s not something you can place, but in the next second it’s gone, and all his attention is on his drum solo. You cheer with the rest of the audience as drumsticks fly, almost too quick to see, over the drums and cymbals, and you’re so caught up it takes you a second too long to realize one of them actually is flying. 

Your hands flinch up in front of you just in time, protecting your face and fumbling the drumstick nearly to the ground before you catch it. You look back towards the drummer, and his eyes have flared with alarm. 

“Sorry,” he shouts over the screeching of guitars, earning a glare from the singer a second before all sound cuts out. 

Marlene takes the mic, announcing that they’re done performing for the night but will be available to receive free drinks until closing. The band starts to pack up and leave the stage. 

The crowd splits in two, one half migrating towards the bar and the other towards the exits. You’re not quite sure where to go. You want to meet up with Marlene, maybe give her the drumstick to pass along to her bandmate and thank her for inviting you before you head home, but you’re not bold enough to venture backstage. You cast a glance toward the bar, twirling the wooden stick absentmindedly between your fingers. Maybe you can find a seat to wait for her? 

“You’re not bad at that.” 

You turn, and the drummer from the band is standing behind you. 

“Oh.” You glance down at the drumstick in your hand, feeling a bit silly as you hold it out. “Thanks. Here you go.” 

“Thank you.” His eyes are even better close up. He’s put on glasses, magnifying the warm brown of his irises and the thick, dark lashes that nearly brush his lenses when he blinks. “You looked like you’d be a better catcher.” 

You laugh. “Not sure what would make you think that.” 

“Well, you did manage it in the end.” He smiles. It’s charming with a touch of roguishness, and you get the impression he’s someone accustomed to being forgiven. “Sorry for almost hitting you in the face.” 

You shrug, suddenly unsure what you usually do with your hands. “It happens,” you say. “I don’t take it personally when musicians lose their instruments in my direction.” 

“Oh, well I wasn’t trying to lob it at your head, but tossing it your way wasn’t an accident.” 

Something funny happens in your gut. “It wasn’t?” 

His grin spreads and he shakes his head. “I figured it was my best shot at getting a chance to meet you.” 

Your face heats. You hope you’re not smiling as big as it feels like you are. “You could’ve just asked Marlene,” you say. “No need to throw things.” 

He laughs, a warm and hearty sound. “I’ll have to refine my methods,” he replies. “I’m James.” 

You tell him your name in turn, and he gets this look on his face like it’s the best thing he’s heard all night. 

“Do you wanna join us at the bar for free drinks?” he asks, taking out the headband and ruffling his hair so his curls bounce onto his forehead. It’s more than a little distracting. “I’m sure Marls would love for you to stay.” 

“I…” You glance towards the bar. “I’m pretty sure the free drinks are just for people in the band, no?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He waves you off, taking your hand and leading you towards the bar. “You won’t be paying regardless. Just tell me what you like.”

[huunni]

SUN AND WATER; SO INTIMATE.

dad'sbestfriend! james mcavoy x brown!fem!reader

🍯 hunni pot — oh. my. god. for context i was speaking to a friend recently about split (2016) and she tried to convince me it wasn't real because she'd never heard of it and she's a movie junkie.. long story short we rewatched it and i don't remember james mcavoy being THAT hot?? like i remember him being hot but damn. anyways enjoy my rambling as i freak out over dilfs on the main. im back hoes. reader is like early 20s and james is his age and divorced

hot summer days were the best thing for you. the sun warming you and giving you dark tan lines that highlighted you stretch marks that little bit more. looking through your aptly packed suitcase, you huffed at the idea of not being able to buy a new bikini. granted, you were only here for two weeks of your summer break, and you did have four in total, but you could never have too many, right? you settled on your blue two-piece, throwing a tank top and a baby skirt over it just to prevent your ass from being completely out as you walked down to the waterfall/lake a little ways from the summer house.

you decided to tan before getting in the water, the peaceful current giving you the perfect opportunity to relax and lay around. laying on your towel under the beating sun, you slid you bottoms down over the dips in your hips, a little crack show for the birds and bees.

maybe ten minutes go by, and you turn over to face the sky. sitting here baking with a blunt would be amazing, and you make a mental note to roll one next time you come down here. slipping your top down a little, then a lot, then just taking it off and letting it all hang out was a wise decision, the sun shining on your bare dark nipples and a tickle moving it's way in between your thighs as you reel in the feeling. another ten-ish minutes and you're dozing, barely keeping your eyes open as you listen to the water flow just a few feet from you. you stop trying after a bit, rolling into the sensuality of sleeping half-naked with nature.

until you feel a shirt laying over your midriff.

and feel mr. james trying to shake you awake. fuuuuck.

his eyes are (reasonably) diverted from you. james couldn't help but feel like a perverted high schooler, awkwardly kneeling so his best friends daughter didn't have to see the far too obvious boner she was giving him right now. james had kids of his own, he'd seen nipples and pantylines before, so why did he feel so.. different?

as you woke up and hoped to God Almighty that that the Earth would just swallow you while right there, mr. james gave you that we don't have to talk about it look that he'd given you many times. you just nodded as he turned away, flicking his belt and removing his shorts to reveal his trunks. it could've been your hazy brain. it could've been the angle since you were still tying your top. it could've been the lighting of the Sun, for God's sake, but you swear that mr. james' trunks were outlining his cock, the fabric tightening around his thighs. but you didn't have time to see it because he quickly plunged into the water, using his big arms to move himself under the waterfall, cascading down his hair and chest. (im a dirty pervert. omg that gif is going to the wank bank)

you sat on a smooth rock, right in the middle of the lazy lake. it was low, allowing the water to kiss your feet and the Sun to rub your back. watching as mr. james blatantly circled you, like an animal. he came to a stop in front of you, just watching you before speaking. "it's a cute top, y'know. dunno why you'd wanna ditch it." he shrugs, laughing as your attempt at splashing him ended with you nearly falling off the rock and him being no more wet than he already was.

you two got out after a bit, talking about life and how school was going and whatever could come to mind. mr. james's eyes never left you once, meanwhile you were avoiding his eyes like the plague. too busy watching his chiseled stomach flex every time he laughs, or shifts, or just fucking sits there.

"m'eyes are up here, lassie. what's with the pervin'?" he asks, lifting your chin with two fingers. you open your mouth, but words are failing you and by God you can't speak your mind. what would he think of you?

"i wanna fuck you."

oh.

"oh?" shit. what the fuck is wrong with you?

the answer to that question would have to wait for another time, because mr. james wasted no time scooting closer to you on the towel, lifting you up over his lap and lettin you sink down on his swim trunks, the cold fabric making you roll your hips. james could only grunt, resting his hand on your ass to push you a bit more forward, his hard-on twitching right against your clit.

"who've thought you as such a fuggin minx.." he groans, his lips connecting with yours twice, then a third time before you could feel his fingers slipping past your bottoms, groaning into your mouth as he feels your pussy for the first time. no matter how many times he'd dreamed about this, rubbed his cock to the idea of pleasuring you, he couldn't have dreamed this up in a hundred fucking years. but God, was he loving it.

slipping his cock out from his shorts, he watched as you let your manicured hand slip around him. james couldn't believe his fucking eyes, if he hadn't waited so long for this, he'd have cum just by the look in your eyes. sinking down, you rest your hands on his chest, feeling his trembling breath. you don't even have to tell him how much you love it, your pussy does all the work for you. the wet noises that start to come out of you spare no expense at letting james know what a good job he's doing at fucking you from below.

mr. james, ohhhfuuck.. you could barely contain yourself, he was fucking you with something to prove. the plap! plap! noise against the water falling in the background was heaven.

"drop that mr., darling. you know we aren't being very-- ugh, fuck me.. formal right now." he chuckles, continuing to fuck up into you while adding his fingers in the mix, rubbing your clit in deliberate, wet circles. cumming, oh fuck..!

and cumming you were. the Sun was beaming on your face, you were being fucked like a whore in the most intimate setting in all the Earth, and you were cumming, hard. james pants as he fucks you through your orgasm, letting you go limp on his shoulder. "wet as the water you are, darling." he chuckles, reeling in the way you clench around his cock completely involuntarily. a beat goes by as he rests his hands on your waist.

"you've ever been skinny dipping?" it was going to be a looooong night.

[ambrozjas]

the gang on valentine’s day ꨄ︎

the outsiders x reader

✧˖*°࿐ notes ᰔᩚ

eeee !! i love valentine’s day!! this took me all day and was written w/ much love (and rewritten because i accidentally posted it on my alt), so i hope you guys enjoy it 💕

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

lmk if i missed anything !! i think it’s pretty okay so far

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ DARRY is such a softie on valentines omg

❥ i cant stop imagining you waking up to darry making you breakfast that he got up extra early for you just to make so you two could eat alone

❥ because darry’s so busy with his job, you’ll probably have to wait til after valentine’s day for more gifts?

❥ don’t get me wrong, he’ll make you breakfast, wake you up with soft kisses to your head and a soft “g’morning baby” but that’s all you’ll really get on valentine’s day

❥ he might not be all lovey dovey in front of the boys, but when you both slip into the kitchen he’ll mutter small ‘i love you’s while hugging you from behind

❥ if somebody walks in, he WILL get embarrassed and bark at them to get out while a blush dusts his cheeks

❥ you guys’ll probably head out for a cruise in his car or go to the drive-in while ponyboy and soda stay with the others

“hey.” a distant voice called out for you, a few whispers of your name and a couple of ‘hey’s before you finally broke through that thick barrier of sleep.

you peeked one eye open at darry, watching a soft smile appear on his face at your state.

“you awake?” he asked, turning his head so that he could level his face with yours. you lay on your side as you tilted your head up to meet darry’s eyes.

you made a small ‘mhm’ sound as you blinked the remaining sleep out of your eyes and took ahold of darry’s hand, calloused and rough. the warmth of it made you shiver though.

the warmth didn’t last long though, as darry’s face split into a grin and got up, jogging out of the bedroom. you heard a few clanks of the ceramic plates you had stacked in your guys’ kitchen, before you heard your boyfriend’s retreating footsteps.

your lips curled into a soft smile as you saw him walk back into the room with a small plate, the aroma of bacon and pancakes practically dancing across the room and making its way towards you. you propped yourself on one elbow as darry placed the small white plate on the nightstand next to you and once he had leaned down, you had pulled him by the collar to meet his lips in a chaste kiss.

“i’ll see you when i get off work, darlin’. maybe we can do somethin’ tomorrow.” he mumbled against your lips. you felt his lips curve upwards again as he placed another kiss against yours, smiling when you two shared another.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ SODAPOP, this cheesy mofo

❥ meets you once you get off school or work, crumpled flowers in his hand that he may or may not have stolen from his neighbor’s garden, with a boyish grin on his face like he’s soo pleased with himself

❥ will definitely take you out after he’s done with work

❥ maybe’d he’d do smth the day before??? idk

❥ you guys’d probably go watch a drag race or the drive-in, maybe go to the dingo afterwards

❥ would tease and make steve feel single, even if he had a valentine

❥ writes you cheesy lil love notes in chicken scratch and sticks them on your stuff

soda beamed as he saw your car pull up to the dx and watched you get out of the car, throwing his rag on the counter and jogging to open the door.

“hey steve! you can lock up, right buddy?” he asked, tilting his head up to project his voice further.

when steve had come out of the back room, he rolled his eyes at the sight of you and soda. you had your arm linked around his, head leaning on his chest as you both looked at steve with pleading eyes.

“yeah, whatever.” steve grumbled, cleaning his oily hands with the rag that sodapop threw.

“thanks!” soda said, voice fading as he was already heading out the door with you by his side.

“that lovesick fool’s lucky ‘m such a good friend.” steve growled under his breath, annoyed as he watched you give soda a few kisses before hopping into the car outside.

“where we goin’, soda?” you asked, a wide grin still evident on your face as you looked at him.

“where d’ya wanna go?” he asked, a charming smile glued on his lips as he looked at you. gosh, you were pretty.

you shrugged. “wherever the night takes us.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ PONYBOY is so CUTEEE !!

❥ whatever you do, dont imagine the rosy blush that falls on his cheeks when you catch him gazing at you

❥ and ESPECIALLY dont imagine you and pony meeting up after ponys been slipping cute awkward love letters into your locke so you see him with a sheepish smile when you give him an all knowing look

❥ AND DEFINITELY dont imagine ponyboy curtis sitting with you in class, thighs touching and ankles almost locking with each other because you guys are sitting do close, giggling and bright smiles

❥ okay i’ll stop now

❥ BUT JUST??? DO YOU SEE THE VISION??

❥ he’s the type who writes these poetic ass letters with his rushed half-cursive half-print handwriting and then gets all bashful when you bring it up

you heard something fall on your desk. you looked up from your test paper, pencil held between your teeth as your eyes fell on the small yellow folded sticky note.

you looked at the teacher who was at her desk, checking her nails and unbothered, and grabbed the note, unfolded it to unveil a myriad of hearts surrounding a message in neat handwriting.

“i believe in you.” the words read, you smiled to yourself and threw a small glance at ponyboy behind you, who was averting your eyes shyly.

you mouthed a silent, ‘thanks pony’ and turned back to your paper, tapping the pencil on the desk softly as you thought up another answer, circling a letter.

you bit your lip as your eyes crinkled and a smile took over your face, thinking back to ponyboy’s note.

yeah, you thought, thanks pony.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ oh, JOHNNY

❥ he is so WHIPPED

❥ hes just a lil dude, shuffling his feet awkwardly as he holds out some orchids which he also probably stole from his neighbors

❥ n when you give him a kiss on the cheek it’s literally like he short circuits 😭😭

❥ probably has some chocolates that dallas stole him at the store

❥ hes so cute omg 😭

you looked out of the diner window, swiping a fry into the ketchup on your plate and bringing to your mouth in the process.

the sun blinded you a bit as you looked off into the horizon, into the multitude of cars in the parking lot and houses across the way. but to johnny, you looked absolutely ethereal.

the way the sun gave your face a golden hue made you look like a deity come into earth, he had half a mind to start worshipping you right now in the middle of the diner booth.

“y’wanna get outta here?” you asked, turning your head to face johnny. “we could go to th’a lot ‘n watch the sunset?”

blinking, johnny had snapped out of it. he stammered as his mind tried its hardest to concoct a response.

but seeing you smile as you saw him in this state, he sighed and started over.

“yeah,” johnny said, “let’s go.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ DALLAS is very stubborn, but is also very passionate when he loves somebody

❥ his way of love is like beating somebody’s ass for talking about you and letting you clean his wounds afterwards

❥ he rarely says he loves you, but thinks it’s easier to show it with his actions than his words

❥ probably shows up at your doorstep, no warning, and spontaneously takes you out for a date

❥ it dont matter if you have homework, work, angry parents

❥ this man WILL take you out

“thought y’said you didn’t care about valentine’s.”

“i don’t.” dally said, breath evident as he sighs when he looks upon you. his hands stuffed in his pockets as he shuffled his feet.

“look c’mon, just come with me, will ya?” he asks, waving his hand around as he talked.

the corner of your lips turned upwards as you chuckled at dallas’ state. here he was, standing in front of your door on a cold night in tulsa, when just hours before he was brushing you off and saying valentine’s day was cheesy. if anybody had seen him now, they’d never believe you.

“sure, dallas. let’s go.” you took his hand and stepped out, clutching your sweater as your face hit the cold breeze. you never understood how dallas could wear leather jackets in this weather. maybe he was just too cool for everything, maybe that’s how he blended in with the weather.

he let go of your hand, which made you pout a bit, before he instead wrapped his arm around your shoulders and had a grip on the collar of your sweater.

“you’ll stretch it out, dal.”

“oh, you’ll live.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ STEVE is so cute 😭😭

❥ he tries his hardest guys i swear

❥ he’s a little dumb when it comes to this stuff

❥ steve probably steals one of pony’s valentines grams or whatever, scribbles his name out, and gives it to you

❥ you guys might go see soda or go to a drag race or maybe a car show

❥ maybe he’ll even teach you bout some car stuff, whether you understand it or not 😭

“baby, look! y’see that firebird right ov’there?” he asked, pointing and ushering your body to turn towards the car. steve was practically a kid in a toy store when it came to cars. he knew them like the back of his hand.

“mhm, it’s nice, stevie.” you said, humoring your boyfriend. your feet were practically aching at this point by how long you guys were walking for.

“‘n you see that one over there, too?” glory, how much i’d kill for a car like’at.” you loved steve, but sometimes it frustrated you how oblivious he was to certain things.

as he ranted about, you leaned your head on his shoulder, clutching his arm. you tried to listen to him, really, you tried. but all you could focus on was your throbbing feet, your heels burning with every step you took as you were sure you had blisters already.

how was steve able to be walking for this long?

you tugged on the bottom of his denim vest a little bit, making him shut up and turn his head towards you. “huh?” he asked.

“my feet are gettin’ tired, hun.” you whined with pleading eyes. he stopped for a little bit, contemplating on what to do, before letting go of you. you gave him a puzzled look before he crouched down in front of you, looking over his shoulder. “hop on.” was all steve said.

you laughed a bit, not thinking he was serious.

“you said your feet was hurtin’, didn’t ya?” he asked.

“fine, fine.” you gave him one last chuckle before hopping onto his back and wrapping your arms around his neck, burrowing your head into the crook of his neck.

steve was wrapped around your finger, and you both knew that, as you pressed a soft kiss onto his cheek as a thanks.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ dunno why but all i can imagine for TWO-BIT is a drive-in date

❥ you two, sharing a coke, as you both watch a movie as you’re sat in his car

❥ two’s one of those cheesy mofos who while watching the sunset or a nice movie, he’d say it’s beautiful while looking at you

❥ he’s literally my babygirl what are you on about

❥ my underrated king 🙏🙏

“hey!” he shouted for you as he found you, scanning the entire drive-in for him.

he held out a small deformed heart shaped chocolate box, probably from being accidentally sat on, with a cheesy grin on his face.

“awh, you didn’t have to.” you beamed, gently handling the box as he handed it to you.

“swiped it just for ya.” two-bit said, rocking on the balls of his feet as he awaited a kiss, pursing his lips in the process.

you giggled and placed a quick kiss on his dramatic lips, watching how he chased yours after you pulled away.

“settle down, lover boy. let’s actually watch the movie first.” you said, causing your boyfriend to frown exaggeratedly.

“c’mon baby, let’s go get a coke.” you pulled him by the collar of his leather jacket, material rough under your fingertips as you dragged him along.

and boy, did you never hear the end of it. the whole time you were in line, all you heard from two was, “please darlin’?”, “one more?”, “just on the cheek?”. a string of pleas fell from his lips so many times you had lost count.

once you two had gotten your coke and snacks for the movie, you returned to two’s car as he followed you around, dragging his feet like a sad puppy dog.

“i’ll tell you what, you sit through,” you looked up in thought as you tried to find a good estimate, “twenty minutes, and then maybe you’ll get kisses.”

“twenty minutes? that’s like.. a whole year from now!” two-bit exclaimed.

after seeing your face though, he shut up. he really wanted those kisses, even if that meant sitting through a movie while he was all antsy. so all he did, was cross his arms and pout.

it wasn’t long before he got his wish, though.

˚₊· ͟͟͞��➳❥ yo so who wanna be my valentine?? 💘

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[nanawritesit]

Being EXO’s fem!idol crush who gets shipped with them - Maknae Line Ver.

Hyung Line Ver.

a/n: this is based on the SM girl group idol au that i wrote a while back, please read that first so that the writing will make sense :) AND these scenarios are LONG (esp. Chanyeol’s omg it took FOREVER) so i’m splitting this into two parts! enjoy :)

TW: kissing, sleeping in the same bed, mentions of food, slightly suggestive remarks, mentions of bullying, being held, sitting on his lap, mild cursing

Chanyeol:

You were both sent by the company to be on a new variety show called “Idol Roommates,” where a bunch of idols would be living together in the same house for a month. SM had sent you, Chanyeol, Yeri, and Ten, Hybe had sent Beomgyu, Jake, Sakura, and Minji, and JYP had sent Bangchan, Yuna, Lily, and and Gunil. The fans were super excited to see all of their favorite idols be roommates, and you had to admit, you were a little too excited to be living in such close proximity with Chanyeol.

The first episode began with you all arriving to the house with your label mates, and greeting all the other idols in the kitchen. There were cameras hidden all around the house, except for in the bathrooms, so you never really could tell what was being broadcasted and what wasn’t.

“So, what do we do first?” Sakura asked once everyone had arrived.

“Oh, there’s a note here on the table…” Bangchan said as he reached for it. “‘Welcome to your new home for the next month! In this bowl are all of your names. Please draw for your roommate and choose your rooms in order of your ages.’” he read aloud.

“Well, Chanyeol hyung is the oldest, so he goes first.” Ten explained, patting Chanyeol’s shoulder.

“Wow, you don’t have to rub it in.” Chanyeol joked, a playful smile on his face. Everyone laughed along with him, quieting down when he reached into the bowl to draw a name.

“Y/N.” he announced. Everyone turned to you expectantly. Yeri and Ten shot you mischievous grins, to which you blushed and looked away. They knew about your enormous crush on Chanyeol, how he had been your bias since high school, and how you used to have posters of him all over your wall. You shot them a dangerous glare before turning to Chanyeol.

“Alright, shall we go pick our room?” you proposed, desperate to get the attention off yourself.

“Yeah, let’s go!” he agreed, leading you up the stairs.

“This one looks the biggest.” you suggested after you had surveyed all the rooms.

He walked over from the other end of the hall and glanced inside the room you were talking about. “Alright, works for me!”

You had separate beds on opposite sides of the room, but it was still a little awkward. The two of you had several interactions in the past, and they were all pleasant, but mostly formal. You began unpacking your suitcases and shuffling around the room to get settled in silence.

As you did so, you could hear the other groupings running excitedly up the stairs to claim their rooms. Ten and Sakura were first, then Bangchan and Yeri. Gunil had picked Jake, then Beomgyu picked Lily, and that left Yuna and Minji together. Hearing the chatter of your colleagues in the background helped ease the tension a bit.

“Do you sleep with a light on?” Chanyeol asked suddenly, making you jump a bit.

You nodded sheepishly. “I’m a bit scared of the dark to be honest.”

“Ah, you’ll have to remind me. I don’t sleep with a light. Are you okay with having a fan on?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind that!” you told him, shuffling awkwardly. “I’m sorry you got stuck rooming with me. I know I’m not the most fun person in the world.”

“No, don’t be sorry… I’m actually relieved that I drew your name.” he told you reassuringly.

“Really?” you asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity. “Why’s that?”

“Because you’re one of the few people I feel comfortable around in the idol world.” he answered, a tiny, bashful grin on his face.

You tried to ignore the flush creeping up your cheeks. “I feel the same way about you.”

Suddenly, Bangchan and Yeri appeared at your door. “Hey, are you guys ready for the debrief? We’re all heading downstairs now.” Chan asked.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Chanyeol replied, leading you out of the room. He followed Bangchan down the stairs, and with their backs to you, Yeri turned around and wiggled her brows at you. You pushed her forward a bit out of annoyance, causing her to tumble down the stairs by a few steps. You instinctively reached out for her, then looked at her, concerned. You both broke out into laughter, her gripping onto the railing and you holding onto her.

“That would’ve sucked.” Yeri chuckled, holding onto her stomach from laughing so hard.

—————

“Okay, so all the housework has been assigned.” Sakura declared, setting down her slice of pizza. “We’ll do meals in order of oldest to youngest, and chores in order of youngest to oldest.”

The production company had sent you all pizza for your first dinner, but you were instructed to prepare meals for the house for the rest of the time you would be there. That meant that you and Chanyeol would be preparing breakfast tomorrow.

For the remainder of the night, you all just chilled in the enormous living room and talked about all of your careers while a movie played on the TV. Conversation was flowing so smoothly that time just seemed to fly by, and before you knew it, everyone was getting up to get ready for bed, including you and Chanyeol.

“You can take a shower first.” he told you, sitting down at his bed to check his phone.

“Okay, thanks!” you chirped, making your way over to the bathroom.

Once you were done and in your pajamas, which embarrassingly enough had little kittens all over them, you padded your way back over to your own bed. “It’s all yours.” you told him.

“Awesome, be right back.” he responded, getting up from his bed. He did a double take as he looked at you. “Nice pajamas. They’re cute.”

You blushed, trying to focus on drying your hair. “Thank you. Kaori got them for me and I just can’t resist wearing them, even if they are kind of silly.”

“They’re perfect.” he smiled as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

You sighed, placing your hands on your cheeks to cool them off. Get it together Y/N. You’re on TV.

You went about the rest of your nightly routine, then curled up in bed to scroll on your phone for a bit. After a while, you heard the water shut off, meaning that Chanyeol was done with his shower. And then it happened. Everything went to black.

You yelped a bit at the sudden darkness, gripping onto your blankets.

“Guys?” you heard Gunil shout from down the hallway.

Everyone started emerging into the hallway with their phone flashlights on. “Is everyone okay?” you heard Lily ask.

“Everyone’s here except for Chanyeol and Y/N.” Jake stated. You heard shuffling down the hallway coming towards your room, which only made your anxiety worsen. You didn’t want any of your adult colleagues to see you scared out of your mind just because the electricity went out.

Just as you were preparing to face your housemates, Chanyeol emerged from the bathroom and practically sprinted over to the door with his own phone’s flashlight.

“Yeah, we’re both good in here.” he told your housemates from the doorway, shielding you from the view. “Since it’s the middle of the night anyway, I say we just all go to sleep. The production company’s cameras will have suddenly shut off, so I’m sure they’ll fix it by morning.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point.” Chan agreed. “Well, since everyone’s okay, let’s just go back to our rooms.”

Once everyone was back in their rooms, Chanyeol rushed over to you, sitting down on your bed. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice dripping with concern. You had never seen him so serious before.

“Yeah… just scared…” you shuddered, gripping onto your blankets.

“It’s okay, nothing is gonna happen to you. I promise.” he comforted you, patting your shoulder. “Do you think you can try to go to sleep?”

You thought for a moment, then shook your head. “I’d be too anxious. I know that nothing is going to happen to me, but it’s just a fear I’ve never been able to shake.”

He looked as if he was tossing an idea around in his head. Hesitantly, he looked back up at you. “Would you be able to sleep if we shared a bed?”

Your eyes went wide. Was Park Chanyeol actually offering to sleep in the same bed as you just so you would feel safe? It was as if all of your dreams were coming true in this moment.

You coughed awkwardly. “Well um… you don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable, but… it would definitely help.” you stuttered out.

“I don’t mind at all.” he told you, a comforting smile on his features. “I just want you to feel better.”

You grinned, feeling your heart swell with emotions, then scooched over to make room for him.

It was obviously a little bit awkward at first. You both faced away from each other, a good three inches of space between the two of you. You thought that was going to be how the rest of the night went, until you started shaking.

“Y/N, are you trembling?” Chanyeol asked, turning towards you.

You froze. “Um… yeah. I’m sorry. I’m just scared.” you sighed in humiliation.

“It’s alright… do you want me to hold you?” he offered, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I… I don’t want you to feel like you have to…” you spat out reluctantly, even though your heart was screaming at you to say yes immediately.

“I want to, Y/N.” he told you, a slight chuckle slipping out as he did so. “I mean, who doesn’t want to hold the person they like as they fall asleep?”

Your heart stopped. More than anything, you said in your head.

Your mouth fell open in shock, and you frantically flopped over to face him completely. “You like me?”

He nodded, a small smirk on his face. “I thought it was obvious.”

Your face broke out into a huge, toothy grin, and you lunged forward to hide your blushing face in his chest. He chuckled at your bashfulness, closing his arms around you in a tight embrace.

“Shall we get some sleep?” he asked.

You happily nodded in his hold. “I think I can manage now that I’ll have something to dream about.”

“Goodnight Y/N.” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before curling up around you.

“Goodnight Chanyeol.”

—————

In the morning, you tumbled awake to see him sitting up against the headboard scrolling on his phone. “I was just about to wake you up.” he chuckled, ruffling your hair. “Did you sleep well?”

You nodded groggily, smiling through squinted eyes. “All thanks to you.” you curled into his side.

“Although you look super adorable right now, we really should get started on breakfast.” he suggested. “We don’t want everyone going hungry.”

“I suppose so…” you sighed, getting out of bed. You both threw on your robes and slippers and made your way downstairs to the kitchen.

“Alright, what are we working with?” Chanyeol inquired as he opened the fridge, inspecting its contents.

“Well first of all, we’re going to need lots of coffee.” you giggled, busying yourself with the coffee pot.

“Very true. I can get started on some eggs and bacon while you do that.” he decided, swiping the ingredients out of the fridge and moving over to the stove. You prepared breakfast in a comfortable silence, that was, until the front door swung open, and three suited men strode in. You recognized one as your manager, but had no idea who the other two were.

“Hyung? What’s going on?” Chanyeol asked one of the men you didn’t know. You now assumed it was his manager.

“Don’t worry, we shut the cameras off this morning.” the man responded to him. “However, the production manager would like to tell you something.” He turned to the last remaining unidentified man and looked at him begrudgingly. Your own manager looked equally as annoyed with the supposed production manager, tapping his foot impatiently.

The man sighed. “The electrical outage was staged last night. Cameras were rolling throughout the entire night, and everything that went on was broadcasted.”

“You mean… the fans saw…?” you asked meekly, feeling your heart drop into your stomach.

“Yes, they saw you and Chanyeol sleeping in the same bed and confessing to one another.” your manager told you, a sympathetic look in his eyes. “I’m sorry kid. They didn’t tell us about this, or else we would’ve told you not to act as if you were in private.”

“There is, however, a bit of good news that goes along with this.” Chanyeol’s manager interjected. “The fans are really happy about it.”

You both snapped your heads up in shock. “Really?”

“Our ratings went through the roof.” the production manager explained. “Just in the past eight hours, we’ve received more viewers than any of our previous pilot episodes combined.”

“What are they saying?” you inquired, still incredibly surprised that the response was positive. Fans were not usually supportive of idol romance, wanting to maintain their own personal fantasies about their idols being available. In fact, “Idol Roomates” was kind of a controversial show because it allowed male and female idols to live together as if they were couples.

“See for yourself.” your manager instructed, holding his phone out to you. You began scrolling through some recent tweets he had pulled up on his phone, Chanyeol looking over your shoulder to read them with you.

I TOLD YOU GUYS IDOL ROOMMATES WAS FIRE, NOW WE GET Y/N AND CHANYEOL CONTENT 🔥

channie was soooo sweet to comfort y/n while she was afraid of the dark 🥺 i love seeing him be so soft to her ❤️

that innocent forehead kiss!!! i love them so much!!! <3

“Wow… that’s amazing.” Chanyeol marveled, running a hand through his hair. “So… what now?”

“Well, that’s up to you guys.” his manager replied. “The company has given us the okay to either confirm or deny the relationship based on your wishes.”

You both glanced at the floor, thinking to yourselves for a moment. Suddenly, you looked up and realized that you didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

“Let’s not say anything.” you suggested. Everyone looked over to you with a slightly shocked expression.

“Nothing?” your manager asked. “You mean, just let them wonder?”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea…” the production manager agreed, tapping his chin in thought. “They are the most popular couple on the show, and no matter what, there are going to be skeptics on whether or not it was staged. Why don’t we just let the show be an experiment?”

“And if we ever do develop a relationship, this can be looked back on as where it developed.” Chanyeol grinned, taking your hand in his.

You grinned at him appreciatively, then turned back to your manager. “Is that okay?”

He shrugged, an amused smile on his face. “It’s your call, kid.”

You looked back over at Chanyeol, who gave you a determined nod.

“Let’s do it.” you decided.

“Alright, case closed.” Chanyeol’s manager stated, clapping his hands together. “We’re going to see that you guys have a few minutes to speak with each other alone before they turn the cameras back on...” He shot a dirty look to the production manager before continuing. “… but other than that, we hope you have fun on the show. And please, don’t take it too far. Fans can be quite temperamental.”

As soon as the three men left the room, you turnt to Chanyeol. “Did you really mean that?”

“What? That I see us developing a relationship?” he asked, scratching his head with a cute smile. “I thought that much was obvious.”

You giggled, shaking your head at yourself. “This is the second time I’ve been completely oblivious. I feel like such a fool.”

“You’re not a fool.” he reassured you, pulling you into his arms for a tight hug. His height always allowed him to give the best hugs. He made you feel so safe and cared for. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Thank you…” you whimpered into his chest. “I really do want to make this work.”

“And it will.” he grinned, rocking you slightly. “I promise.”

You looked up, resting your chin on his chest. “I believe you. You promised nothing would happen to me last night, and you were right.”

He smiled down at you affectionately. “There’s one more thing I want to do with these last few minutes we’ll get alone.”

“Hm?” you asked, once again oblivious to his insinuation.

Before you even had time to register what was happening, his lips were on yours. His hands came up to hold onto your face and press himself further up against you. You held your breath, then relaxed into his arms, hands linking together behind his neck. He began to deepen the kiss, puckering his lips against yours repeatedly and darting his tongue between them periodically. When you were completely out of air, you pulled back, both of your chests heaving against one another.

“I can’t wait until this show is over and we can have some real privacy.” you grinned suggestively. “Now, shall we finish breakfast?”

D.O:

You rubbed your sweaty palms against the rough material of your jeans, taking a deep shaky breath as you waited in the recording studio. Usually when you were nervous in a place like this, it was because you were worried about messing up your notes or forgetting the lyrics. But that wasn’t the case today. You had practiced the drama’s OST relentlessly, and knew the song forwards, backwards, and sideways. What you were nervous about was the fact that you were going to be singing a duet with Do Kyungsoo.

Not only were you totally intimidated by his vocals, but you also had the most mortifying crush on him. Everyone at the company seemed to know about it except him, and you wanted to keep it that day. You just hoped you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself in front of him today.

You jumped as he entered the room, springing to your feet. He looked ungodly handsome, clad in a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up halfway and jeans.

“Hey Y/N.” he smiled warmly as you locked eyes. “How’s it going?”

“Hey, I’ve been really good!” you choked out, playing with the sleeve of your sweater. “How about you? I saw you guys were in Jeju Island last week. I mean, on Instagram, I wasn’t there stalking you or anything. Not that I’m not a fan, but…” you stopped yourself before you dug down into an even deeper hole.

He chuckled at your babbling, somehow finding it endearing. “We were, it was a really good trip. Although I almost threw Baekhyun off a cliff while we were hiking.”

“Oh, that’s not good! Accidents happen, I suppose.” you shrugged, brushing your hair back behind your ears. You could feel a thin layer of sweat on the back of your neck, a telltale sign that you were nervous. You had to tell yourself to calm down, you didn’t want to look sweaty when they filmed the video.

“Oh no, it would’ve been on purpose. He was being insufferable.” he explained, grinning evilly. God, he was so attractive.

You laughed, genuinely this time. “I get it. Sometimes I want to strangle the girls.”

He hummed in amusement. “Look at us, bonding over wanting to kill our members.”

You giggled at his comment, feeling yourself relax slightly. Maybe this isn’t going to be so ba-

“Alright guys, the company wants us to film the video now, so in the booth.” your manager decreed as he entered the room.

Nevermind.

“We don’t get a chance to practice at all?” Kyungsoo asked, looking understandably irritated.

“I’m sorry guys, they forgot about the deadline they gave the marketing team for the drama.” the other man explained sympathetically. “They need it within the next hour, and editing is going to need at least a half hour after we film it.”

“Awesome…” you sighed, grabbing a pair of headphones and following Kyungsoo into the booth.

You could feel your nerves getting the better of you, making your hands shake and your throat go dry, both of which would not be good for your performance.

Kyungsoo seemed to notice this, and grabbed your hand gently. Your heart stopped, making you freeze in place.

“Hey, you’ve got this.” he whispered with a comforting smile. “You have the voice of an angel.”

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach. He thought your voice was angelic?

“Alright guys, camera is rolling.” your manager said from the control panel. Music starting in 3…2…”

You exhaled as the music started, letting yourself ease up. You glanced over at Kyungsoo. He was looking at you with such kind, sensitive eyes. You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face as you began to sing your lines. When you were looking at him, it was really easy to belt out a love song.

He seemed to feel the same way as he started singing his own verse, his smile never faltering as he gazed into your eyes affectionately.

As you began to sing the chorus together, it was like the stars aligned. You were perfectly in synch, voices intertwining together like two rivers of golden honey merging into one. You were both putting so much passion and energy into the song, the lyrics resonating in both of your hearts as you looked at one another.

As the song came to a close, you both held your notes until the music ended, looking at each other breathlessly. Both of your eyes were twinkling, and you could feel chills running down your spine. That was the best duet you had ever sung with anyone.

“That was amazing you guys!” your manager suddenly said, snapping you out of your daze. “I don’t know how you guys did it perfect on the first try, but great job!”

“Uh, thanks!” you stammered, removing your headphones. You started to blush as you realized the amazing connection you and Kyungsoo had just had. Your anxiety was quickly returning, causing you to act without thinking.

You turned to him. “God, it’s hot in here. Are you hot? I mean, you are hot, I mean-“

He looked at you expectantly, as if you could possibly recover from that humiliating sentence. However, he didn’t look embarrassed at all. He had a hopeful glint in his eyes and an anticipated smile.

However, you were far too overwhelmed with your own nerves to notice. “Well, I’m gonna go home. See you later alligator!”

And with that, you bolted out of the studio and ran back to your dorm, not stopping until you were back in your bedroom. Nabi and Kaori were shouting after you, but you just ignored them, slamming your door behind you.

You collapsed your back against the door and slid down until you were on the floor, placing your head in your hands. “‘See you later alligator?’ What am I, 50?!”

—————

After a few hours of cycling through rotting in your bed, pacing the floor in anxiety, crying out of humiliation, and passing out from exhaustion, you were disturbed by yet another knock on your door. You groaned, assuming it was one of your members trying to talk to you again.

“Dude, I love you, but go away, I need to be alone.” you grumbled, pulling your pillow up over your head.

You heard the door open and someone walk in, but you didn’t have the energy to look up. Maybe if I stay really still, they’ll think I’m dead, and then they’ll leave, you thought.

You felt them sink down on the bed next to you and place a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N? Can we talk?”

You snapped up, eyes widening as you realized who was in front of you. “Kyungsoo!” You frantically fixed your hair and wiped your face. “Oh god, I look terrible…”

“No you don’t.” he chuckled, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You froze at his touch, relishing the feeling of his fingers in your hair before blinking back to reality. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I just thought you should know how well our OST is doing.” he grinned, pulling out his phone. You leaned forward to see the music video you made that already had millions of views in just a few short hours.

“Wow, people love it this much?” you asked in disbelief.

“That’s not all. Look at the comments.” he handed you his phone, and you did as he asked.

You know this drama’s gonna be good when they got Y/N AND Kyungsoo to sing the OST… total power vocal couple!

Y/N and Kyungsoo might as well be the main couple in the drama, their chemistry is insane

the way they sing the song to each other… my heart 💓 💓💓

You couldn’t help the giddy feeling that was blooming in your chest, attempting to fight off your smile to no avail. “They really like us, huh?”

He nodded, setting his phone back down. “There’s another reason I came here.”

“Hm?” you asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity.

He took your hand in his, just as he had done in the recording booth earlier. “Y/N, you don’t have to be so nervous around me. I think you’re adorable, and I really like you.”

Fireworks went off in your stomach. “Y-you do?”

“Of course I do.” he laughed, shaking your hand in exaggeration. “Why do you think I asked to sing the OST with you?”

Your jaw unhinged in shock. “You asked to be paired with me?”

“Well yeah, how else was I going to get close to you?” he chuckled. “I was going to ask you out after we finished, but you ran away so quickly, I never got the chance.

You blinked at him a few times, then erupted into a fit of laughter. He joined you, doubling over slightly.

As you both settled down, he leaned in closer. “Will you go out with me?” he practically whispered.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes! Of course I will!”

He smiled brighter than you had ever seen him do before, then slowly inched closer to your face. His eyes were focused on your lips.

Deciding you had been oblivious enough for one day, you took the hint and closed the distance between the two of you, crashing your lips onto his. He placed a hand delicately on your cheek, then began deepening the kiss, until you both pulled away, eyelids fluttering open slowly.

He smirked. “So, where do you want to go, angel voice?”

Kai:

“You’ve got it… you’ve got it…” Ten instructed you, guiding your movements. You were both in the dance practice room, covered in sweat as you went through the routine. You were working on a partner dance for your next solo album, and you wanted it to be with Ten, but somehow it just wasn’t going as planned. You were stumbling through the steps, there was no flow so your movements were jerky, and you somehow couldn’t shake the tense expression from your face.

As the music finished, you awkwardly caught your footing and struck the most pathetic ending pose you’d ever done. Ten gave you a crooked smile out of sympathy, which somehow made you feel ten times worse.

“Ugh, this is hopeless.” you sighed, throwing your hands up in resignation as you plopped down on the floor and leaned your back up against the mirror. “I’m never going to get this routine down in time.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” he attempted to reassure you, sitting down next to you. “You’re doing everything right. Sometimes, it just takes a little while to get the right feel for it.”

“Yeah, or I’m just a horrible dancer.” you huffed. You put your head in your hands and scrunched up your hair. The shoot was in two weeks, and this routine had to be perfect. Your fans deserved nothing less.

Ten was conflicted on what he should say next. On one hand, he wanted to tell you how amazing and talented you were, but on the other hand, he knew it wasn’t going to mean anything if you didn’t believe it yourself. He decided to grab a water bottle and hand it to you with a warm smile. “How about you just take a little break? I’m sure you’ll feel better in a few minutes.”

You smiled back at him, taking the water bottle from him gratefully. Your brow furrowed as he stood up and walked towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna go find something that’ll help.” he grinned over his shoulder before leaving the room.

You shook your head at his cryptic behavior, then collapsed back against the mirror, staring up at the ceiling in desperation. Please God, if you’re listening, please send me something to help with this dance.

“Y/N?” you heard someone ask from the doorway.

You snapped your head down to see who it was, and smiled widely at the pleasant sight before you. “Kai! What are you doing here?”

“Just checking in on my favorite junior.” he smirked, shutting the door behind him as he strolled in. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket as he stopped in front of you, looking you over with a concerned expression. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“Just taking a break.” you replied, stretching slightly. “I’m too bad of a dancer not to.”

He frowned, crouching down to your level to glare at you. “Don’t say that about yourself. You’re an amazing dancer.”

“You haven’t seen me practice this routine.” you chuckled. “I’m sure you would change your mind if you did.”

“Alright then, show me.” he demanded, standing back up and taking a step back.

“Wait, like now?” you asked, slowly getting up yourself. “You don’t even know the routine…”

“I’m sure I can improvise.” he grinned, taking his jacket off and throwing it to the side, leaving him in just a cutoff tank top and sweats. “What, do you doubt my skills?”

“Absolutely not.” you chuckled. You had been secretly admiring him since before you even became a trainee, in more ways than one.

You got into position and waited for the music to start, then thrust into action as you began the routine. The first half went almost perfect, as it was just your solo part. You began to get nervous as the duet portion approached, feeling your muscles begin to tense up.

Kai approached you and placed his hands gently on your waist, a focused spark in his eyes. He somehow knew the exact partner position, and began guiding you across the floor.

“Relax, relax…” he instructed calmly, “remember to breathe.” He spun you around and placed a hand on the small of your back.

You inhaled deeply, holding the breath in your chest for a bit, then exhaled and released all the tension you didn’t realize you were holding onto. You started being able to flow through the moves better, but now you were hyper-focusing the footwork.

“Hey, don’t look at your feet. Focus on me.” he brought you back to center once again, twirling you back to face him and placing his hands on the sides of your face.

You looked up at him, locking in on his pretty brown eyes. It was as if they were telling you exactly what you needed to do, and for a moment, your body was running on autopilot, and all you thought about was being close to him.

“Show me that pretty smile, white swan.” he chuckled with a playful grin, instantly making you giggle and blush.

You actually couldn’t believe that you were going through the entire routine without any problems, and as you struck the ending pose, you were absolutely speechless. “That was…”

“Brilliant!” Ten suddenly interrupted you, causing you to jump away from Kai defensively.

“T-Ten!” you stammered nervously. “We were just-“

“It’s okay, I told him to come here.” your best friend smirked from the doorway. “I found him in the hall and he asked how you were doing.”

“You did?” you asked, a touched lilt to your voice.

“I told you, I wanted to check in on my favorite junior.” Kai explained, brushing the hair out of his face with an innocent half smile. “Ten said you were having trouble with the dance, so I had him show me the training video, and then I told him I’d help you.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief...” you sighed, glad you didn’t have to explain yourself to Ten. “So, you’re not-?”

“Jealous? Hardly.” he chortled, shaking his head. “In fact, I think you should do the dance with Kai for your music video.”

Your jaw unhinged slightly in shock. “Really?”

“Oh yeah, the chemistry is way better. You really seem to enjoy yourself when you’re dancing with him.” he teased, winking at you inadvertently.

You shot him a warning glare, then turned back to Kai. “Is that alright with you?”

“It’d be my pleasure.” he grinned, extending his hand to you. “Shall we?”

—————

It had been a week since your latest solo comeback dropped, and all of Starlight was losing their minds over it. Albums sold out everywhere, you had already one two awards, and everywhere you went, you heard it being played on the radio.

After one of your performance stages, you were sitting in your dressing room, and decided to look over some of the comments on the music video again. You always loved seeing what your fans had to say about your work.

There were a lot about how pretty you looked, how beautiful your vocals were, and how proud of you your fans were, all of which made you giddy with appreciation. However, some were starting to stick out to you and pique your interest. Particularly, the ones about your dance with Kai.

the tension between Y/N and Kai is so thick you could cut it with a knife 👀

i don’t think i’ve ever seen our Y/N dance so well with anyone else than with Kai… i hope they do more stuff together :)

anyone else think Y/N and Kai would make the PERFECT couple??? just me???

You felt your cheeks grow red and warm at the insinuation. I mean, sure, you had been fantasizing about dating Kai for years now. But now that you knew your fans approved, it was all the more flustering.

“Knock knock.” someone interrupted your thoughts as they entered your dressing room.

You looked up, then scoffed playfully. “Kai, if you keep showing up unannounced, I’m going to have to start locking my door. I could’ve been bare faced!”

“And you’d still look just as beautiful.” he commented, smiling at you genuinely.

You pouted your lips affectionately, then stood up to hug him. “Thank you so much.”

“Me? What for?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you to reciprocate the hug.

“If it wasn’t for you, I never would’ve gotten that dance down.” you beamed into his shoulder.

A quiet chuckle rang through your ears. “You already had everything you needed to accomplish it. I just pointed you in the right direction.”

You gave him one final squeeze, then invited him to sit down on the couch with you. “So, what brings you all the way here?”

“Well, I had to admit, seeing you do the dance with that backup dancer on stage made me pretty jealous.” he replied, a more serious expression appearing on his face.

“Oh?” you inquired, folding your hands in your lap. “Is that so?”

He nodded slowly. “Indeed. I was going to let it go, but after reading some of the comments on your music video, I was inspired to do something about it.”

Your heart soared as you imagined him reading the exact comments as you had read previously. Did he feel the same butterflies when he read them over?

“And what exactly are you going to do?” you asked, feeling your nerves vibrate harder with every passing second.

“I want to ask you out.” he told you. He leaned in closer to you, to where you could see the sparkle in his eyes. “Is that alright?”

“Yes, it is.” you replied, letting a huge smile plaster itself across your face. “And yes, I’ll absolutely go out with you.”

He replicated your large grin, patting your leg affectionately. “That’s wonderful. Because I don’t want you dancing with anyone else.”

You chuckled, squeezing his hand a bit. “Well, you’re going to have to fight my members for that right.”

He thought to himself for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think I could take them, they’re pretty tough. I’ll settle for being the only guy you dance with.”

“Deal.” you giggled, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you again, Kai.”

“You’re welcome, white swan.” he chimed. He rose up from his seat and walked over to the door. “I’ll leave you to unwind. I’ll text you later to set up the date, okay?”

You nodded, waving goodbye to him. “Sounds good, talk to you later!”

You turnt back to your mirror, beginning to brush out your curls. However, you were startled as Kai ran back into the room quickly.

He placed a bouquet of flowers on the vanity in front of you, then kissed you on the cheek briskly. “I almost forgot, these are for you. Congratulations on such a good comeback.”

Sehun:

“Excuse me, pardon me, ‘it girl’ coming through!” Nabi declared as you made your way through the busy photo shoot studio.

“Ugh, shut up Nabi!” you scowled over your shoulder at her. “I hate it when you call me that!”

“Hey, I’m not the only one.” the leader shrugged, chuckling mischievously. “Everyone calls you that nowadays.”

“Well, I’d prefer to only deal with it when I’m being interviewed.” you scoffed, setting your bag down at your vanity.

“Spoken like a true queen.” Nabi smirked, crossing her arms across her chest.

You rolled your eyes. “Why did you even come with me today?”

The younger girl shrugged. “You’ve been stressed lately. I figured I’d tag along to make sure you have a comedic buffer.”

You softened at her kind gesture, touching her arm lightly. “That’s really sweet of you.”

“They also always have huge snack buffets at these things.” she added. “I’m gonna go get a plate, okay?”

You went back to your previous mood, sighing and sitting down. “Yeah, just get me some chips.”

You watched her skitter off to the snack table, shaking your head at her. In front of the other girls, she was a strict, stern dictator. But around you, the only member older than her, she was a true child. However, she was your best friend, so you tried to find it endearing.

“Y/N?” a deep voice inquired from behind you.

You spun around in your chair and gawked at the realization of who stood in front of you. “Sehun?!”

He smiled at your surprise, holding out his arms in a dramatic gesture. “In the flesh.”

You sprung up out of your chair in an instant, practically jumping into his arms to give him a hug. He stumbled backwards a bit, laughing at your sudden affection, then caught his footing and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’ve missed you so much!” you told him, pulling away. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for the Valentine’s Day shoot.” he replied.

You knit your brows together in confusion. “Really? Because this is…” You looked around the studio, then it dawned on you. There were heart shaped decorations and pink balloons everywhere, and the studio had a romantic, dim lighting.

“Oh… they didn’t tell me this would be a couple’s shoot…” you chuckled awkwardly.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really? That’s strange. Maybe they knew you’d be nervous if you were told ahead of time that you’d be doing a shoot with the Great Oh Sehun.” He flipped his hair dramatically, a cocky smirk on his face.

You scrunched your nose up, hitting him on the arm playfully. “Ugh, don’t be so smug. It doesn’t suit you.” You were actually just trying to hide the fact that he was right.

Sehun had been slowly becoming one of your best friends at the company, ever since that day he walked in on you being bullied by a bunch of female trainees and silenced all of them with his presence. He was actually competing with Yeri, Ten, and Karina for a spot on your BFF list.

However, you had always secretly hoped for more with him. He was so kind, even though he could seem cold at first, and he always made you laugh. He was so caring, despite how hard he tried not to be, and had incredible wit and humor. Plus, there was the fact that he was incredibly handsome. Like, obnoxiously so. But, as much you wanted things to go to the next level, they remained stagnant. Neither of you were the most upfront about your feelings.

“There you guys are!” the director suddenly clapped his hands behind you, pulling you away from your conversation. “I’ll let makeup and wardrobe know you’re here, and we should be able to start shooting in about an hour.”

You both nodded and thanked him, then turned back to one another.

“See you behind the camera.” Sehun proposed with a minuscule wink that was so small you wouldn’t have caught it if you hadn’t been admiring his features so closely these past few years.

You sent him one last smile, then turned back to your vanity while he strode over to his own.

Suddenly, Nabi reappeared next to you with a plate full of snacks. “What was that about?” she asked, crunching on a pretzel.

“Oh nothing, I just have to do an amorous photo shoot with my secret crush.” you grumbled, falling back against your chair with your hands bunched up in your hair. “Did you get my chips?”

Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“Nabi! Either be helpful or leave!”

—————

The hour of makeup and wardrobe went by way too fast for your liking. You had been trying to build up your courage to no avail. It seemed hopeless. How on Earth were you going to do a romantic couple’s shoot with your crush without it looking you were hopelessly devoted to him? Not that you weren’t, you just didn’t need the whole world knowing it. That would be mortifying, not to mention a total career killer.

You walked over to the photo setup, which featured a red velvet sofa and a table with an extravagant bouquet of flowers. You swallowed the hard lump in your throat, making one last stitch effort to calm yourself down. Settle down, Y/N. It’s just a photo shoot with your colleague. I’m sure he won’t even be-

“Is this chain on straight?” your thoughts were interrupted by the man in question. You flipped around to see him dressed in a deep v-neck black blazer with a white button-up shirt underneath, the top three buttons undone to reveal his chest, adorned with a glimmering silver chain necklace. His thick black locks were tousled and textured perfectly around his forehead, and his skin was practically glowing.

Okay nevermind, time to panic.

“Holy shit, you look hot.” you heard yourself speak, although you don’t remember making the decision to. Instant regret flooded your brain, and you immediately began apologizing. “Oh my god, I meant the chain looks hot. I’m sorry. I mean, not that you’re not hot, I just…”

“Thank you.” he cut you off, a pleased smile evident on his features. “You look hot too.”

Your heart practically jumped out of your chest. “Th-Thank you…” You were sure your face was as red as a tomato. However, you had to admit, you did look pretty hot in your tight red dress, pearls, vampy lipstick, and red strappy heels.

“Alright, we’re ready to get started!” the director declared from his chair. “Sehun, I’d like to start with you laying on the couch horizontally. Y/N, go ahead and sit on his lap facing the camera.”

You did as instructed, although uncomfortably. He sensed your tension and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, just relax.” he suggested, a reassuring smile directed at you.

You gave him an appreciative grin, loosening up and leaning into his form.

“Okay, now Sehun, put your chin on Y/N’s shoulder and rest your head against her neck. Y/N, just keep looking forward.”

The camera flashed a few times, with a few breaks in between to look over the shots.

“I’m really proud of you, you know.” Sehun told you while the camera crew was busy.

“What do you mean?” you asked him, laying against the back of the couch.

“You’ve come a long way from the girl I met who was letting some older trainees pick on her.” he teased. “I’ll never forget the look on your face when I appeared next to you.”

You laughed at the memory. “And I’ll never forget the looks on those girls’ faces when you told them off.”

He joined you in your laughter. “Notice how none of them are at the company anymore, and how you’re the ‘it girl’ now?”

You smiled contentedly. “Everyone seems to be calling me that these days.”

He suddenly scooped you up in his arms and pulled you down to his chest, ruffling your hair affectionately. “You’ve always been my ‘it girl’ Y/N, from day one.”

You squealed as he caged you in his arms, feigning resistance. A sudden flash went off, and you both looked up to see the camera crew staring at you blankly.

“Ah, sorry guys, that was my fault...” a feeble intern announced nervously. “I accidentally hit the wrong button.”

“Wait, let me see that shot…” the director demanded, motioning for the camera to be brought over to him. He looked it over, then turnt to you both with a baffled expression. “This is it. This is our cover photo.”

“What? No way.” you marveled, getting up and walking over to the director. Sehun followed you, catching you as you stumbled a bit in your heels. You looked at the photo, and soon you were both making the same face that the director had made a few seconds ago. “Woah… this is amazing…”

“Look at how beautiful you are…” Sehun commented, taking in the picture lovingly.

You blushed, nudging him slightly.

The director clapped his hands dramatically, snapping you both back to reality. “Alright, let’s keep this energy going! Next I want a shot of Y/N pulling Sehun in by his chain!”

—————

A few days later, you were chilling out at the dorm with your members, having a much needed girls’ night. All of your favorite snacks were laid out on the coffee table, you were all in your pajamas, and there was a cheesy rom-com playing on the TV, even though none of you were paying attention to it. You were far too busy gossiping, squealing, and beautifying each other. It might have been stereotypical girl behavior, but it was incredibly therapeutic.

“Everyone shut up!” Nabi suddenly decreed, jumping up on the couch and holding something behind her back.

You looked up from braiding Kaori’s hair. “Oh god, what is it now?”

The younger girls all laughed, finding it hilarious that you were the only one able to talk to Nabi like that.

“Well ‘it girl,’ it just so happens that I have the most recent issue of Elle in my hands.” the leader grinned evilly, brandishing the magazine out in front of her.

The other three girls all gasped and rushed over to grab at it, except for Iseul, who just jumped up and down excitedly. Her nails were still wet from Marie painting them a few minutes ago.

“Oh my god, you look so hot!” Marie marveled, flipping through the glossy pages.

“Yeah, and this one of you pulling Sehun in by his chain is just perfect!” Iseul nodded in agreement.

“Wait, the shoot was with Sehun?” Kaori asked, her eyes going wide with innocent shock.

“Yes Kaori, we talked about it three days ago. Keep up.” Marie groaned at the maknae.

“Hey, be nice.” you warned protectively. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah right. You’ve only been in love with him for years now.” Nabi challenged you, jumping down from the couch.

“I am not in love with him.” you rolled your eyes. “Besides, he doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“The fans seem to think differently.” Nabi commented smugly, whipping out her phone. “Look what they’re saying on Elle’s post about it.”

You snatched the phone out of her hand and began to skim over the comments.

you could tell me the cover shot was totally improvised and i’d believe you… their affection looks so real <3

who knew the oldest member of Etoile and the youngest member of EXO would make such a fire couple? TOTAL goals!

The fact that they’ve been friends since Y/N was a trainee makes this so much cuter… they’re clearly in love with each other 💞

These two OWN Valentine’s Day now 😤

“Look at how big her smile is!” Kaori grinned admiringly at you.

“I know, it’s so cute!” Marie added, wrapping her arms around your maknae and twirling her around. “‘Oh Sehun, please marry me!’”

“‘Oh Y/N, I’d love to make you my wife!’” the younger girl acted out, giggling madly.

You scowled, trying not to laugh along with them. “How come you two only get along when it’s at my expense?”

You all froze as the sound of a phone ringing suddenly cut through the noise.

You looked over at the end table to see your phone lit up and vibrating. You picked it up and unhinged your jaw as you saw who it was from. “It’s Sehun. I’m gonna go take this.” You got up and rushed down the hall to your bedroom.

The three youngest members attempted to follow you, but Nabi stood protectively in front of the hallway. “Nope, no one is eavesdropping. This should be private.” Marie, Iseul, and Kaori started pouting and vocalizing their protest. That was, until Nabi gave them her signature glare. “Living room, now.” She really was a great leader when she wanted to be.

Shutting your door behind you, you answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/N, it’s me.” Sehun said from the other end. He sounded uncharacteristically anxious.

“Hey, is everything okay?” you asked in a concerned manner.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” he coughed nervously. “I just wanted to… you know….”

“Wanted to what?” you giggled, sitting down on your bed.

You heard him exhale momentarily as if mentally preparing himself for something. “If you’d like to go out with me for Valentine’s Day?”

Your breath hitched in your chest. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again…” he sighed, clearly having trouble being this forward. “I just… we had so much fun at the shoot together… and you’re just so cool, and fun, and pretty. I’ve never really known how or when to say it, but… something about that couples’ shoot just pushed me to go for it. So will you?”

You clutched onto your chest as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded to Earth. “Yes… yes, of course I will!”

“Really?” he marveled, sounding genuinely surprised. “I can’t believe you agreed.”

“Sehun, I’ve literally been waiting for you to ask me out for years now.” you chuckled. “You’re the worst at picking up on signals.”

“Yeah, well you’re not very good at sending them.” he teased, clearly getting his confidence back.

You laughed cutely into the phone. “We’re not very good at this are we…”

“No, not at all.” he chortled, shaking his head. You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. “And just so you know… I meant it when I said that you’ve been my ‘it girl’ since day one.”

You blushed with a small smile. “I usually hate it when people call me that. But with you, it feels good.”

“Well, I’ll have to call you by that name as much as possible. Then you can be mine exclusively, and no one else’s.” he replied.

You laughed once again, feeling like a giddy school girl. “I always have been, remember?”

He laughed at your sudden cockiness, knowing that you definitely learned it from him. “I’ll see you on Valentine’s Day?”

You nodded, feeling your lips curl up into a grin. “I’ll see you then.”

“Goodnight, my ‘it girl.’”

“Goodnight Sehun.” you giggled, hanging up the phone. You then threw it across the room and flopped back onto your bed, rolling around and kicking your feet in ecstasy.

“Y/N! What happened?” Marie suddenly burst through your door, followed by the other girls. You assumed Nabi held them off as long as she could, but eventually lost strength. There were three of them after all.

You sat up, brushing your hair out of your face. “Guess who’s going out with Sehun on Valentine’s Day!”

The four girls all screamed and jumped on your bed, showering you with praise and congratulations. You laughed as you captured them all in a group hug. It was then that you realized you didn’t need to be the ‘it girl’ to be happy, you just needed moments like these. And with Sehun, they seemed to just keep coming.

[sugawhaaa]

Okay hear me out either jungsu or junhan having the INSATIABLE urge to kiss you stupid which they would obviously never do because you’re still friends and they respect you to much but after a little goofing around you end up a pinned under them and just look so pretty and they just can’t hold back maybe it’s a little spicy maybe it’s incredibly spicy whatever direction you want to take it

JUNGSU DRABBLE

♡•{is that even a question}•♡

Warnings//genre:: fluff, confession, wee lil bit suggestive,

Pairing:: friend!Jungsu x gn(?)reader

A/N:: omg this took me so long to complete I'm sorry 😭 idk how long this request has been in my drafts for but it wouldn't surprise me if it was over a year...

Xh masterlist:: 🍭

🎧::

You and Jungsu had been friends for years. The two of you are inseparable but Jungsu always thought of you a little more. When you first became friends everything was fine, you really were just friends and he felt that way too. As things proceeded he slowly felt himself falling for you. He didn't want to but he couldn't help it. When he saw you during prom, everything changed.

Every time you hang out he can't help but admire your lips, wishing he could just kiss you, once was all he needed.

The two of you had just moved into an apartment as "friends" because it was most convenient to split the cost of rent instead of paying full price. House pricing was no joke these days and who wouldn't want to move in with their best friend? You were putting your bed sheets on your bed when Jungsu knocked on the door before opening it. He watched your body as you leaned over the bed to tuck in the corners of the bed sheets. His breath caught in his throat but he composed himself.

"You still settling in?" He said in a teasing tone as he walked over to you. You stood up and turned to him.

"Yes I am," you crossed your arms, pretending that his statement highly offended you. You went over to a bin on the floor grabbing your pillows, fluffing them up before putting them on your bed. "Too bad I didn't have a big strong man to help me," You smirk and he laughs.

"What, are some pillows and blankets too heavy for your little arms?" He teases and you roll your eyes before tossing your weighted blanket to him, causing him to stumble over at the unexpected weight. "Jesus, why do you need a blanket this heavy?" He laughs before putting it on your bed, making sure that its facing the right direction. He helps you get settled in, moving heavier bins and organizing shelves that were too high for you to reach. He then flops down on your bed, your scent rushing over him. You come over to sit next to him, leaning over him slightly.

"Can't you believe we're living together now?" You smile down at him. He can't help but smile in return at your beauty.

"Yeah, it's gonna be pretty wild," Jungsu tilts his head as he looks up at you, his hair a mess on the bed. "Though we basically already did with how often we'd visit each other," He chuckles, stretching his arms out behind his head. He then notices your hair brushing up against his hand, he tugs at it.

"Ow, what was that for?" You scowl at him as you hold your head, sitting up now. Jungsu shrugs and keeps minding his business but then you tug at his hair, much harder. the two of you begin to scawbble, poking and pulling at each other. You then pull out your pillow, hitting it across his head, and that was the final straw. Before you knew it was above you, tickling you mercilessly and as you laughed hysterically, gasping for air, something switched in his head, a flicker of an idea.

He runs the back of his knuckles against your cheek and you freeze, his touch going from teasing to tender. "Jungsu?" You say softly and he looks up into your eyes. Something lingers in his gaze, a need, a desperation you can't quite place; like he's just about to do something but he's holding back. He doesn't reply to your calling, simply leaning down hesitantly, giving you time to dodge, before pecking your lips.

You're left momentarily frozen.

Many times before you thought about liking him more than a friend but there was always this inner turmoil about the idea. There's all sorts of things to consider before falling for a person, or at least admitting it to yourself, the main one being: How will this effect your relationship now? No one wants to lose a friend and what's a worse way to lose a friend other than replacing your thoughts of them to be romantic? But suddenly all these thoughts came flooding back to the surface.

"I'm sorry," He apologizes, his voice thick with sincerity and conflicting emotions. You aren't sure how to reply. You don't need him to apologize but on the other what else is there to say?

The room falls silent. Painfully silent. "Sorry, I'll leave now," He pulls himself up but you take his hand. He turns to you surprised but there's still a hint of sadness beneath his eyes.

"Don't go," You slowly let go of his hand as he steps closer. "We should talk,"

"I don't know what to say," He quickly replies with a sharp, honest answer. There's another pause and you swear you can hear footsteps of people walking outside. You take a deep breath as you think of response.

"But I feel like now, whether we like it or not, we need to talk," You look up at him and his cheeks flush pink. He nods and sits down beside you. "I'll start. I've been thinking for a few years now about whether or not I have feelings for you," You begin and Jungsu braces himself for a rejection of a lifetime. "And I could never quite make up my mind," You confess and he nods, understanding. "But I think I just couldn't admit it to myself. I was so afraid of losing you or changing things, I was afraid of change," You admit and Jungsu looks up at you quickly.

"I kinda felt the same. I liked you for a long time but I thought I'd die without you knowing," He chuckles, "But I guess, uh, now we're here?" He forces a nervous smile and you laugh at how tense he is.

"So, does this mean we're a thing?" You ask, your words only pure of intent.

"Do you wanna be?" He smiles shyly and you can't help but giggle at him.

"Is that even a question?"