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miraclewoozi · 1 year ago

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DON'T SWEAT IT. - l.jh

Today — the first time in a small forever that he forgot to check the battery on his earphones (and subsequently had them die on him mid-workout) — Jihoon is forced to notice you.

pairing; lee jihoon x fem!reader. content; fluff / gym crush au / strangers to lovers / kinda idiots to lovers / smut towards the end (MINORS DNI). w/c; just a breezy 18k- and some change? warnings; swearing, this is only proof read once because if i read it again i was going to lose my mind. please let me know if i've forgotten any. smut tags under the cut ( not sure that this counts as a warning but a heads up: the gym weight units, whenever mentioned, are in kilograms not lbs because i’m british and the metric system, am i right? sorry if there are any other british-isms, i try really hard to avoid them/catch them on a proofread but there are inevitably some that have slipped through the net. )

note; gym-selfie jihoon, you will never not own my ass. ( screaming internally this is the first fic i've written since my dan + phil youtube era. i don't know what i'm doing. this has been in my wips for about two months. it's a bit all over the place. that's. literally just me. bon appetite. <3 )

smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), blowjob started/implied (at the end), protected sex (be safe out there gang), little bit of biting, no huge power dynamics? reader & jihoon are both switches (and simps), some use of pet-names (good girl/baby).

—————

He first sees you around lunchtime on an otherwise unassuming Sunday.

As you walk in, the gym is wonderfully quiet. A handful of regulars mill about, making full use of the rare freedom of the machinery. One of the club’s personal trainers is marching an impossibly steep incline on a treadmill. It could just be any other weekend session in this criminally over-equipped and under-used gym: the town’s worst kept secret. But when the door slams shut behind you, his head jerks up; it, in this moment, is the loudest sound in the room. It’s sort of the only one he hears at all.

Today — the first time in a small forever that he forgot to check the battery on his earphones (and subsequently had them die on him mid-workout) — Jihoon is forced to notice you as he sits with dumbbells rested against his thighs. He catches his breath as he wonders who you are, if you’ve ever been to this gym before, why he doesn’t recognise you. Are you a new potential regular, maybe? Or just visiting the area and making good use of the cheap pay-as-you-go rates? Maybe, he considers, lips turning downwards in thought… maybe you’ve been coming here for a long time and he’s somehow just always been so in his own head that he’s never noticed.

The last, he thinks, is sort of unlikely. No. He would definitely remember a face like yours.

His heart rate slows more than he usually lets it as he finds himself watching you fill up your water bottle at the fountain, taking a long sip on your way over to one of the stairmasters. His brain blanks out when he realises that he’s not just looking anymore, he’s sort of staring, and swallows the saliva on his tongue hard, looking back at the mirror. He doesn’t want to be that guy. He isn’t that guy – he just got distracted by the loud noise, and this is exactly why he checks the damn battery on his headphones before he leaves the house.

The only problem is that now, he can’t remember how many sets he’s done. He lies back and stares straight into a slightly sketchy light-fixture, neglecting to pick up the dumbbells that he put aside for his next set of pushes. Jihoon adjusts the position of his shoulders against the bench, arches his back off it slightly, digs his heels into the spongy floor beneath them and pushes the ones still in his hands until failure.

Today, he finishes his routine and leaves the gym without allowing himself so much as another glance your way.

He neglects to notice that your eyes are avoiding him right back.

—————

You smile at him for the first time on a Tuesday. Not the following one – a week and a bit later.

Seungcheol is with him tonight. Jihoon prefers to train alone nine times out of ten: this is a truth widely acknowledged, accepted and respected among his friends. Gym time is his down time, his equivalent of movie marathons and comfort food, of face masks and glasses of wine. But it’s not a hard rule: occasionally, someone will ask to tag along and use one of his guest passes, and Jihoon very rarely says no. There are two reasons. One, he isn’t actually rude, contrary to approximately eighteen running jokes in the group-chat. But also, it adds a little bit of variety to his otherwise very set-in-stone regimen, and mixing it up doesn’t hurt. Like tonight, for example. Seungcheol is pulling him into the studio off the main gym floor, his own gym bag packed with boxing pads and gloves for them to play with.

Variety.

Jihoon grumbles a little at the idea, at first. He has a very love-hate relationship with cardio, favouring a simple steady-state run over everything else, and it just feels a bit against his moral code to use gym time for something like this. However, he comes to discover very quickly that smacking Seungcheol’s hands is very therapeutic; Jihoon knows he’s maybe getting a little too into it when his friend asks if they can switch around, grimacing and shaking out his wrist after a particularly beefy punch.

He agrees, albeit reluctantly, tugging off the gloves he’s wearing and pulling on the pads instead.

This half of the activity is considerably less enjoyable for Jihoon; he starts to cool down and loses his flow almost straight away and after about thirty seconds, his breathing is back to normal and he feels ready to go again. Even so, he does what he needs to do to be a good workout partner, and goes one step further into ‘good friend’ territory as he allows Seungcheol to vent about the bad day he had at work in-between hits, offering murmurs and looks of disgust when it feels appropriate. Suddenly, the impromptu request to come to the gym tonight makes much more sense, as does the slightly bizarre choice of activity, but Jihoon tries not to ask about it in too much detail.

They swing at each other for a few more rounds apiece, working up a healthy sweat and getting out a few frustrations as the hour wears on. On the last set, Jihoon switches out Seungcheol’s hands for a punching bag, putting a lot more of his weight behind every hit and really tiring himself out. By the end, his hair sticks to his forehead and his cheeks have flushed bright red; he only stops when he gets that weird, metallic taste in the back of his mouth that says he’s probably overdone it. Again.

“Hit the shower?” Seungcheol asks breathlessly as he finishes his last set of Russian twists and lies down flat on the floor, equally sticky and flushed all over.

Jihoon pats his face dry with his towel, shaking his head. “You go ahead. I’ll have one at home.”

He doesn’t give Seungcheol much of a chance to respond, already cleaning down anything he’s touched or managed to sweat on and riding out the high of the endorphins flooding his veins. Secretly, he hasn’t had a cardio session this high energy or this satisfying in a long time. He isn’t going to readily admit to that though.

“Nah, I’ll do the same,” Seungcheol agrees. He starts packing the gear he brought with him into his bag and they leave together after, heading towards the exit.

That’s when he sees you again.

He doesn’t notice at first; you’re stowing your things into one of the higher lockers, and you have your headphones slung around your neck as he walks past. It’s the sound of a song he vaguely recognises through your speakers that makes his head snap over from the conversation he’s in the middle of. They walk past at the moment you drop down from your tiptoes, and you flash a small (but insanely pretty) smile at Jihoon.

By the time he manages to process this fact, he’s already walked past you and you’re headed over into the main gym area, so even though he turns around to try and catch your eye, all he sees is your retreating figure. He stumbles over his own feet, not looking where he’s going, and just barely catches himself on Seungcheol’s upper arm before he actually does fall over. His older friend glances down at his bicep before he adopts a look that Jihoon has seen many, many times before: just never directed at him. His cheeks heat up further and he looks away.

“What was that?” Seungcheol asks, one eyebrow so far up his forehead that it’s disappeared almost entirely under his soggy hair. He looks so smug, so incredibly entertained. Jihoon wants to smack that expression off his face, immediately.

“Nothing,” Jihoon rushes, managing not to act on the violent thought even though he wants to. He clears his throat. “No-one. I-... they’re new, I think. I don’t know.”

Seungcheol lets out a soft laugh, pushing the door open for them both to leave through. “Yeah,” he scoffs, eyes glimmering with something Jihoon doesn’t think he likes the look of. “Nothing, my ass.”

—————

Three days later, he hears you speak for the first time.

Granted, you aren’t speaking to him – at least, not at first. But that’s not really what matters.

It’s late, and it’s a Friday night. Fridays are usually Jihoon’s days rest days, but sitting around his apartment had him feeling impossibly twitchy, with far too much energy to burn and no way to do so without leaving the house. And he knows that he needs to take days off, now and again. He knows that they’re good for recovery and that it’s healthy to take time to himself that involves not lifting weights. But what he also knows is that if he doesn’t manage to shake the weird buzzing feeling in his muscles, in his joints, in his veins, he’s never going to get to sleep. So, here he finds himself at almost 10PM, walking down the street to get to the gym.

To begin with, he doesn’t know (or really care) who it is that’s coming up behind him. He can hear quite clearly that the mystery person is on the phone, and that they’re in the middle of what seems to be a rather heated argument: his brain latches onto occasional words, phrases, curses. Every now and again, their voice drops to a deep, frustrated mutter and he cringes slightly, making a point to keep his eyes forward and down so as not to draw attention to the fact that this presumably private conversation has become everything but.

He touches his entry fob to the sensor on the door as he arrives and pushes it open. Jihoon uses the opportunity to stand still, to glance back at whoever it is that’s walked behind him for the past four and a half minutes, and his eyes come to land on you. He falters, noting how your eyes are a bit glassy and your cheeks are stained with what he can safely assume are tear-tracks. In this moment, he wants to run; he doesn’t want anything to do with that, and he certainly doesn’t want to hear any more of your call. It’s none of his business, and he feels plenty weird enough already with what he has overheard. But, for some unknown reason, he stays in place.

“No – no, you don’t get to-...” you hiss into your phone. “It was our fucking anniversary, you asshole.” Jihoon’s face tightens at that, lips drawn between his teeth and his eyes blowing slightly wide. You pass through the door in front of him, flashing a small smile as you go. Another smile, he thinks to himself, but he’d be an idiot to compare them in any way; this one is so dramatically dissimilar to the first, he thinks it could almost have come from a totally different person.

Unfortunately, there’s nothing ‘insanely pretty’ about it this time. Your smile is tight-lipped and exhausted, slightly apologetic. Maybe even forced. He does try to return a warmer one to you, but he doesn’t know if you notice.

“Look, I’m at the gym – we’re not doing this right now. I’ll call you later.” You hang up the phone with the kind of sigh that groans in the back of your throat.

A small part of him wants to take this moment and use it to ask if you’re all right, but an even larger part of him doesn’t. It isn’t because he doesn’t care. In a weird way, considering this is only the first time he’s clearly heard your voice and he knows absolutely nothing about you, he does care. But there are a few things that stop him. Not only are you a near-complete stranger, not only would he have no idea what to say to you if the answer happened to come out as a ‘no’, not only is he already coming over a little bit clammy at the thought of having a conversation with you… Jihoon isn’t stupid. He knows from the sound of your voice and the way you’re rather aggressively typing a message into your phone that it’s a ridiculous question.

You’re walking into the gym at 10 o’clock on a Friday night, your eyes literally brimming with tears. Of course you’re not all right.

He’s still standing in the open doorway mulling all this over, but Jihoon only realises when a gust of wind slaps over his calves and sends a draught not only through the reception area, but up the length of his spine. He comes inside fully as you close the locker you’re using – he notices, but he isn’t sure why, that it’s the same one as last time – and throws his things into the one he always uses. Two below and one to the left of yours.

It’s quiet tonight: just the pair of you and one middle-aged guy. Jihoon recognises him as the friendly man who seemingly knows everyone who comes in here – including you, apparently, judging by the way he strikes up a short but energetic conversation. When the other guy walks away, you clamp your headphones back over your ears and return to what you were doing before, occasionally bobbing your head or moving your lips in time with whatever it is that you’re listening to. Jihoon steals little glances at you now and again when you’re in-between sets, watching how you breathe deeper, how your skin glows with sweat as you tap your fingertips against your thighs.

He almost drops the bar he’s holding when you catch his eyes in the long line of mirrors. He turns away, swallowing hard, completely missing how your own gaze lingers.

Jihoon becomes so obsessed with not being caught looking at you again that he doesn’t even notice when you disappear off the gym floor completely. It’s only when he pulls his headphones off at the end of his session and glances around that he registers your absence: your third companion is long gone, and he assumes you must have snuck out without him noticing too. He settles the speakers back over his ears before pulling on an old zip-up, flicking the hood over his head to shelter him a little better once he gets outside. But he’s in no rush to get home so he takes his time, resting his bag between his abdomen and the lockers, replying to a few messages and clicking his tongue at some of the nonsense being spewed into the group-chat.

He isn’t sure exactly how long he’s standing there for, but he does know precisely what pulls him back to the world outside of the device in his hands.

To begin with, he doesn’t notice you approach, lost completely in his screen. He doesn’t hear your footsteps, or the way you politely clear your throat to announce your presence so he can move out of the way. He misses your moment of realisation that he’s listening to music and has no idea that you’re standing three feet behind him. He doesn’t even see you walk up next to him, your hair still damp from your shower and sitting loose over your shoulders.

It’s only when you try to reach over him to grab the last of your things that he snaps out of his trance. The fragrance of your body wash hits him first, and oh boy, does it hit him. Sweet, and delicate. Then, he gets something beautifully fruity: it’s not a perfume (it doesn’t smell like a perfume), but it’s you. Your shampoo, maybe? A conditioner? He can’t tell. Whatever it is, the combination of fragrances has him feeling like he’s been slammed into by a damn freight train. He drops his bag to the floor, freezing for a second, and then finally moves away just as the little door swings open.

“I’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly, tugging his hood down and pulling his headphones off completely. “I didn’t even think you were still here.” He can’t shake the smell of you, nor the feeling of your warm frame leaning so close to his own. God, why is his heart pounding like he’s just finished a round of sprints? Why can’t he breathe?

“No – hey, no, don’t be,” you rush, shaking your head. You finally succeed in pulling your coat free and start trying to get it on; Jihoon wonders if you often struggle to find your sleeves like this, if you’re always chasing them around like a puppy after its own tail. He does it too, sometimes. He gets it. It’s cute. “It’s okay. I was trying not to disturb-... I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine,” he tells you. For the first time, he’s able to smile back at you properly.

Why is it so hot in here, all of a sudden? Do they shut off the air conditioning after hours or something? He’s breaking out in a sweat.

“Call it even?” you suggest shyly, extending out a hand now you’ve managed to get both arms through your sleeves. He looks down at your fingers for a second before reaching to shake your hand once, a semi-firm grip securing the ‘deal’. (He feels a bit like he’s been electrocuted after, but he tries not to make that too obvious).

It goes awkwardly quiet for a moment then, and Jihoon wishes deeply that he had it in him to say something. Anything. But his brain has gone completely empty and apparently, all he knows how to do is stand completely still like a fucking statue. He shifts his gaze from you, to the wall behind you, to the carpet beneath his shoes, all the while tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt as if it might bring him a tiny breath of fresh air. The gentle sound of you clearing your throat has him looking back at your face again though; he assumes for a second that this is maybe you about to announce taking your leave. All the while, he’s cursing himself out in his own head for being totally inept, and he’s not entirely sure that it isn’t written all over his face.

“Alone, today?” you ask, idly fiddling with your zipper and succeeding in taking him by surprise. He really didn’t think you were going to continue this. And yet…

“Hm?” he questions.

You swallow before answering. “You… the last time, you were with a friend?” you explain, and now it’s your turn to look away. He wonders if you’re a little warm too, if he’s right in what he was thinking about the air-conditioning.

“Oh. Right.”

He nods. An annoying train of doubt in his mind wants to know why you’re asking about Seungcheol; if maybe it was him that you smiled at the other night, even though he knows your eyes weren’t looking up at the man he brought with him. He thinks maybe he should be used to these turns in conversation by now – you certainly wouldn’t be the first person to ask if one of his friends is available, after all – but somehow, he isn’t, and he has a slightly bitter taste in the back of his mouth as he goes on.

He really didn’t have ‘you being interested in one of his best friends’ on his bingo card for tonight, that’s for sure.

“Yeah. I think he’s with his partner, or… I don’t know. I don’t really bring other people, often. That was a one-off.”

You nod silently and Jihoon can’t quite get a read on what that means. He wonders if you’re upset at the revelation of Seungcheol’s partner, or maybe that he doesn’t tag along to every session. Or maybe, maybe, you were just being polite, and you don’t really care what his friend is up to that means he isn’t here. But whatever it is that you’re feeling, you do far too good a job at hiding it; he’s suddenly very overcome with the desire to run, again, except this time he might just bury his head in the sand too for good measure.

“How much were you deadlifting, just then?” you ask in the lull, just as he thinks he might have perfected the best way to say goodbye that doesn’t make him come across as even more of a tool than he probably already has. It throws him off kilter, but somehow, he manages to answer you in reasonable time.

“Oh, God… uh, one… 160?” He says uncertainly. “That’s not… I can do heavier-...” In his mind, he slaps his forehead. “Wait, no, that’s-... I mean, it’s true, but I didn’t mean-...”

You bite back your smile as he talks himself in a circle but Jihoon is too flustered to notice, convinced that he now sounds like every arrogant gym rat on the planet. God, he’s given himself the ick.

“I guessed you could,” you say.

Oh boy, this freezes him. Mid-thought, mid blink, mid-breath: he’s completely stuck. What does that mean? What does that mean? He only just manages to unstick his now suddenly dry tongue from the roof of his mouth, looking at you with surprised, confused eyes and parted lips. There aren’t any words on them, though. Like a deer in headlights, he just… stares.

“I mean, okay. Come on.” Your eyes visibly drop as you look him over, gaze lingering at his shoulders, his biceps, his waist. “You can get another twenty on that at least, right?”

He doesn’t know how to explain what’s happening to him, but if he thought he was burning up before? It was nothing compared to this, now. And there’s no way you haven’t noticed how everything from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears has suddenly started staining scarlet. He bows his head and pinches his lips tight, wrestling away the train of thought that appears as you drag your bottom lip between your teeth momentarily, still eyeing his arms. God, he’s never felt so overwhelmed in his life.

“Something like that, yeah,” he strains. He’s trying so hard to be nonchalant, even though he knows all of his personal bests by heart. Deadlift, 195kg. He hit it a few weeks ago: a couple of days before he first saw you.

“Mm. You can tell.”

Jihoon tries to shake off the compliment, but he fails. In equal measure he wishes you’d stop (he doesn’t know how much more blood can rush to his cheeks before he keels over) and never wants you to stop talking. It’s all going straight to his stomach, though, and he doesn’t remember having felt this specific brand of nervous and excited and stupidly shy since he was in high school.

He can hardly keep up. This is the danger zone.

Maybe it’s a bad idea that he says the next thing that comes into his head in a desperate attempt to change the conversation away from how much he can pull. But somehow, his voice doesn’t break when he asks, “are you parked far away?”

What? It’s dark outside, and this part of town isn’t exactly known for its upstanding citizens and pretty flowerbeds.

“Oh,” you say, eyes a little wide. “I’m-... just staying close-by. I walked here.” The space between his eyebrows must crease a little too quickly because you immediately hurry to speak again. “Really. It’s like… not even ten minutes. All main streets. It’s nothing.”

“Ten minutes longer than I’d walk around here at night on my own,” he says lightheartedly. In tone, at least. He’s actually completely serious.

You laugh at that; he lets out a chuckle, too. Now, Jihoon doesn’t believe in fairies but he thinks that if they were real, they’d giggle just like you do.

With a smile still on your face, you say, “what? A strong guy like you? Come on, now.”

Do you have to keep doing that? Fuck, he’s absolutely done for.

He tilts his head forwards, eyes closed, trying so hard to stop the muscles in his cheeks from lifting in a grin that it becomes a workout in and of itself.

“I mean it,” he says, taking what he hopes is a subtle breath to settle the fluttering in his chest. The next thing he knows, he’s leaning one shoulder against the lockers, a little reminiscent of every douchebag in every teen movie ever made. If he doesn’t think about it too much, he won’t cringe into oblivion until he gets home and replays this interaction over and over in his head instead of going to sleep. “Maybe I’ve just lived here too long. I might be jaded, but it’s still true.”

“How long is too long?” you ask.

“All my life,” he tells you.

“No way?”

“Mm.” A beat. “What about you?”

“I’m just staying with a friend, right now.”

“Oh, right.” He falls quiet again as he remembers the first time he saw you, remembers making the list in his head of all the possible reasons he hadn’t seen you before. The second was true, then.

Why does that feel like the worst possible scenario? He decides not to unpack that here.

“Maybe-...” you start, glancing down at your hands, which have been twisting in front of you for a few seconds now. Your chest inflates, filled with the words you’re about to speak, but only a breath comes out when you shake your head instead of saying them. “No, don’t worry. Scratch that.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, because he thinks that whatever you were about to suggest, there’s not much he would have said no to. He feels like it’s only fair to give you another chance to say it.

But you don’t.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” You pause. “I… should probably get going.” He glances over your shoulder at the clock mounted on the far wall, squinting to see the time. 11:45.

“Shit. Yeah, me too,” Jihoon agrees. He didn’t realise it had gotten so late, so fast: he’s hardly ever out at this time. Lord, he already knows it’s going to be an open inquisition when he gets back to his apartment. His neighbours, Soonyoung and Seokmin, are about to have a fucking field day.

But it’s already long past the time he usually goes to bed, so he asks his next question anyway. He still can’t shake the thought of you walking back on your own at this hour. “Do-… you need a ride?”

He’s not sure if you actually consider it, or just wait a moment before you answer just to be polite. Either way, you end up shaking your head.

“It’s okay. I’ve-… got a call to make, so.” Your voice is a little quieter, lips tweaking up into a regretful half-smile, and Jihoon curses in his own head. How had he forgotten about that? “Thank you, though. Really.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “Just… get back safe.”

You smile and nod, taking a step towards the door and Jihoon does the same. He reaches the exit first and holds it open for you; when you’re both out in the street, he suppresses a shiver and looks in the direction of where he left his car earlier. Feeling the full force of the cold, it crosses his mind to ask again if you’re sure about walking home, but you’re already pulling a beanie down over your still damp hair and tapping something into your phone, so he doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll see you around, uh-…” you start to say, only looking back up when you falter, realising that this is the first time you’re about to use his name and it occurs to you both, at the same time, that you haven’t done this part, yet.

“Jihoon,” he introduces himself, lips quirking into a side-smile. His gaze is expectant and you respond to it perfectly.

“Y/n,” you introduce yourself.

“See you around, y/n.”

You split off in the opposite direction to where he’s heading. Before he clamps his headphones over his ears for the short walk up to his car, the last thing he hears is the retreating sound of a dial-tone.

—————

He doesn’t see you then for two whole weeks.

For the first couple of days, he only idly notices; it’s not a big deal — it’s not like you’re always there when he is, and he’s sure it’s the same vice versa. But he notices your absence, nonetheless. By the end of the first week, he casually wonders if you’ve had a change in schedule. Maybe you’re on a different working pattern, something that means you can’t be there on Monday and Thursday evenings and at 11:45am on Sundays.

It’s not weird. He only knows this because prior to that first conversation, acknowledging you as you crossed paths by the free-weights became part of his routine. It’s fine that he sort of misses those little interactions, isn’t it?

Maybe you’ve decided to start training ridiculously early in the morning instead? He tried that once. Never again. It then occurs to him, in the middle of a self-enforced rest day as he sits in the dark nursing a headache, that perhaps you’re not well. He sort of wishes he’d had the guts to ask for your number the last time he saw you, now: he thinks he’d check in, see if you were okay, ask how work was going or something.

Deep down he knows he’d probably actually just be staring at a blank text thread with a ‘casual’ message typed, tweaked a few hundred times, and ultimately unsent. But that’s fine. It’s the thought that counts.

The next time he sees you isn’t even in the gym, at all. It’s a Sunday afternoon — he finished his morning session, went home, showered, and headed back out into town after some lunch with a few errands to run. He finds himself spoiled with the luxury of a spare few hours to kill and dips into his favourite coffee place, thrilled beyond belief to find that it’s not obnoxiously busy and that there’s only one other person in the queue waiting to be served.

Oh, he thinks when he looks up from his phone and sees a vaguely familiar set of headphones sitting on top of a definitely familiar mane of hair, standing right in front of him. Oh, shit. It’s you.

Jihoon goes back and forth with himself over it but ultimately decides he probably doesn’t know you well enough to just say hello out in the wild like this, so even though the urge to do so strikes, he holds himself back. It’s agonising, though. He really wants to.

You step forward to order and he’s typing out a reply to a message in his, Seokmin and Soonyoung’s three-way group chat, in which he’s literally been fighting for his life as of late. He made the mistake of mentioning you in passing a few days ago and ever since, he’s had to vehemently deny that he has developed his first gym crush, insisting that actually, he’s just made a friend. They don’t believe him, because of course they don’t. That would be far too reasonable. Seokmin says that Jihoon wouldn’t be blushing just from saying your name if you were really ‘just a friend’. Soonyoung argues Jihoon wouldn’t have mentioned you at all.

“I’m so sorry — bear with me, just-…” your voice is quiet but Jihoon hears you apologising to the cashier in front of you, and it snaps him clean away from the tiff he’s having with the men who live in his building. He glances up and you’re elbow-deep in the bag over your shoulder, red in the face with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. He turns his head slightly and sees the small hand-written sign that says the card machine isn’t working, and they’re cash only, today.

He can hazard a guess at your predicament.

After another few seconds of you trying to find whatever it is you’re looking for in your bag, he starts feeling bad for you. This, right here, is his own worst nightmare. Should the roles be reversed, he thinks he would’ve just turned around and walked out. It’s exactly why he doesn’t bother with backpacks and satchels day-to-day: if it doesn’t fit in his pockets, he doesn’t take it out with him. The system isn’t perfect but it has saved Jihoon a decent amount of public distress.

But the roles aren’t reversed, and he has his wallet already in his hand, so… he only gives himself a few seconds to wonder if it’s appropriate before he does the stupid thing anyway.

“Don’t worry — I’ve got it,” he says, stepping around you, pulling out the cash to pay for your order. You’re dumbstruck when you look at him, head tilted to the side. The person stood behind the counter glances at you, then at him, and back at you; you don’t see this, however, because your eyes haven’t left Jihoon’s face since he appeared — as far as you’re concerned — out of thin air.

“I can’t ask you to…” you start to protest, but your hands have stopped fishing around and he’s moving the cash further towards the barista, who hesitates just a second longer.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. I’ve got you.” He says this with such finality that you quite literally can’t argue with him. The lady behind the counter accepts the cash and you nod, shyly, mouthing a thank you. He orders his own drink — an Americano, nothing exciting — and you both go to stand at the other end of the counter while you wait.

“Hi,” you finally say, and Jihoon can’t help but give a small chuckle.

He doesn’t have anything hugely witty or creative in his arsenal, though, so he comes back with a matching, “hey.”

“How… have you been?” you ask.

“Can’t complain, really,” he says. “Are you okay? I haven’t seen you around for a few weeks.” Oh, God — the second the words are out of his mouth, he wishes he could take them back. Why did he have to add that last part? Why didn’t he just leave it at the question?

“Yeah — about that,” you breathe, ducking your head to conceal the heat that’s spreading over your cheeks. “You know how I said I was staying with that friend?” He nods, and you continue. “I was waiting for some stuff to get sorted out with an apartment and it all finally got resolved, so… I’ve been moving my stuff over to a new place.”

Jihoon feels his heart sink for a moment, but he keeps his expression pleasant and engaged. His fingers threaten to give him away as they fiddle with the aglet on the drawstring of his sweatpants.

“Sounds tiring,” he says lightly, and you laugh again, nodding. It’s odd, having his heart taking residence low in his stomach and somehow also in his throat, all while hammering away at a mile a minute. All the caffeine in the world couldn’t have this effect on him. “Is it going okay so far?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “It’s a process, but… it’ll be worth it.”

The barista behind the counter announces herself by clearing her throat and slides your drinks across the marble surface with a little glimmer in her eye. Jihoon picks them both up, extending yours out to you. There’s a pause (in which he swallows a large helping of self-doubt) as he glances to the door, working through several combinations of his next words in his mind before he looks back at you.

“Do you… maybe have ten minutes to sit with these?” He asks. You light up immediately, not even checking the time on any of your devices, nor the wall clock behind your head. He doesn’t let himself think about why it makes him giddy that you’re accepting the offer, just like that.

“Yeah — yeah, sure.” You smile, walking through the lines of tables and sliding into one of the big, comfy chairs by the window. He unzips his jacket and slings it over the arm of the other chair before settling in himself, his long fingers wrapping around the to-go cup. The drink warms his perpetually cold palms and he sighs sweetly.

“You must be excited to get into the new place, then?” he asks after taking a sip, letting it heat him up from the inside. It could be argued that this job is already being taken care of, but Jihoon is not about to go there.

“Oh, God yes.” You nod, relaxing back in the seat with your own cup. Jihoon subconsciously leans a little forward in tandem. “It’s been fun staying with my friend, but…” You pause, lips slightly parted, before going on. “Okay, a warning: I’m a terrible person for this, I know. She’s done me a huge favour, letting me stay there — but I can’t deal with how untidy she is. It’s driving me nuts.”

A chuckle bubbles in Jihoon’s chest, cheeks starting to ache as his smile grows and grows. It hasn’t fallen since he sat down opposite you, and doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, any time soon. “That bad?” he asks.

“You have no idea,” you groan, covering your face with one hand. He wishes you hadn’t — he thinks you look quite lovely when you’re all lit up like this. “She doesn’t clean her dishes after she eats — she piles them up in the sink for like, three days. I don’t think she’s used the vacuum the entire time I’ve been there. I keep finding wrappers and packets and mismatched socks everywhere —”

His snort of laughter rolls off the back of his throat rather ungraciously and he settles back into his chair. You gently bump his ankle under the table with your foot, beaming at him. “I’m serious! I can’t live like this, Jihoon. I can’t!”

The more you speak, the less he can control the fits he’s descended into, and his abs start to ache after a while; there’s desperation in your voice but it’s just wrapped up so cutely in your lighthearted frustration and decoratively tied together with your sunshine smile… he can’t help it — he’s in pieces. It’s okay though, because you’re laughing too: it makes him think of fairies again, and he can picture you with dainty, intricately patterned wings under the soft lighting in the café. He wipes the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand as he starts to calm down, taking a few deep breaths all the way into his stomach.

“You’re so much stronger than I am,” he says.. “I couldn’t deal with that.”

“You know, I had a feeling you’d be a clean person, too,” you say, sipping at your coffee again. “I mean… I’ve never seen you use the gym showers, so I wasn’t sure, but…”

“Hey,” he says, mock-defensively. “I don’t trust the locks, okay? I shower at home!”

Your cup is lifted to your mouth and he can only see you from the nose upwards, but by the creases at the corners of your eyes, he knows you’re concealing a smile behind it as you nod back at him.

Ten minutes turns to twenty and then somehow becomes thirty — Jihoon starts feeling like you’re someone he’s known for years, and not just the person he accidentally ended up paying attention to in the gym just a couple of weeks ago. He bounces off you and you bounce off him. Both of you have long-since finished your drinks, too: there’s no real reason for either of you to still be here.

Except the obvious.

“So, the apartment,” Jihoon says, leaning forwards again with his elbows resting on his knees. “Is it…?” He makes a few circular gestures with his hands with which he tries to imply something to the effect of ‘local’, or ‘nearby’, but he can’t quite bring himself to say that out loud. You seem to catch on though. Somehow.

Then again, you did say — a few subject changes ago — that Jihoon is on your wavelength. Maybe that’s it.

“About… a fifteen minute walk from here? Give or take,” you say, and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead so fast it’s like they’re on strings, being controlled by someone else. He doesn’t realise for a few seconds, by which point he isn’t even sure how to relax them.

“No way?” he says, trying to feign nothing more than an idle interest. Obviously, he’s soaring.

“Yeah. I’ll want to get back training soon, too, so there’s some incentive to get this done quickly. I miss it,” you tell him.

Jihoon comes out with what he says next without thinking. His mouth is moving before fully engaging his brain. It’s the coffee jitters. Apparently.

“Well, if you need any help with anything, I’ve got a car.”

“You’re too sweet,” you say. “I really couldn’t put you out like that, but…”

“You wouldn’t be,” he assures you with a shrug. “If I’m not working or in the gym… I’m never really that busy. It’s up to you, but-… I’d be happy to.”

You bite the inside of your lip for a moment, apparently mulling this over, before wiggling in your seat to pull your phone out of the front pocket of your jeans. You unlock the device and hand it over on a ‘new contact’ screen.

Jihoon goes completely stupid: he thinks his brain stops functioning as he takes it to put his number in — for a moment, he’s staring dumbstruck, struggling to even remember the order of the digits now he’s under pressure, but it comes back to him eventually. His thumbs dart across the screen and he checks, double checks and triple checks that he’s typed it right before placing it back in your waiting palm.

His fingertips brush against yours and it tickles, sending small shockwaves up his arms and straight into his chest. You smile down at your phone before glancing up at him.

“You need an emoji,” you tell him, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Huh?”

“Everyone in my contacts has one — I’ve been doing this since I was in high-school. You need to pick one, too.”

“Oh, uh-…” Jihoon swallows, and for some reason he’s completely forgotten every single little emoticon option there is. He draws a blank. “I can’t — you pick one for me. I don’t know.”

You narrow your eyes at him for a second, pouting your lips as you seem to scroll through the endless options. Now and again, you look up at him, as if trying to see what best fits him before you continue your search. He waits. And waits. And waits. He’s about to throw in an admittedly useless suggestion of some sort of boring animal when you turn your phone around to show him what you’ve chosen.

Jihoon, the contact name reads. And there’s the little angel face next to it.

“Oh, come on,” he says, blushing deeply. “You can’t be serious.”

“I totally am,” you say proudly, turning it back and pressing to save it. He hides his face in his hands. “If you won’t pick your own, you get what you’re given. You did this to yourself.”

“Wow,” he chuckles weakly, sliding his hands up into his hair and raking it back off his face. Your eyes move quickly across every inch and boy, does he notice. You shrug in response and test it, sending the same little emoticon to him. He blushes harder when it comes through and he saves your number into his own phone before placing it face-down on the table.

More than an hour after buying your coffee, Jihoon stretches his arms above his head and checks the time on his watch. He frowns slightly, not sure how the afternoon got away from him so fast, and lets out a sigh.

“I think I need to get going,” he says reluctantly. Leaving you is absolutely the opposite of what he wants to do, actually. Alas, “I have some friends coming over tonight.”

“Yeah — yeah, of course,” you smile, leaning to one side to pick your bag up off the floor. “No worries.”

You both move to stand up and he throws his coat over his arm, leading the way out. He holds open the door for you to leave first, then follows you outside into the afternoon sun.

“It was really nice to see you,” you say, turning to face him.

“You too,” he agrees. “Text me if you need anything, okay? But actually do. Don’t just say you will?”

You laugh sweetly. Fairies. His ears might have actually caught fire this time. “Okay, okay. I promise. I’ll text you — thank you.” There’s a pause, but only a tiny one. “And for the coffee, too.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, waving it off. You shake your head. He thinks your hands are twitching when you stuff them into your pockets but he can’t be sure. Your breath definitely stutters, though.

“No, really. Um… next one’s on me?”

He blinks, and blinks again. Next one? The next one? He feels like he’s malfunctioned and been forcibly rebooted. The next one?

“I-…” he starts, his throat dry. “Yeah, okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” You nod, smiling with — what he doesn’t realise is — relief. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah — I’ll see you, y/n.”

—————

Jihoon has no choice but to admit defeat to the group chat that night when Seungcheol and Jeonghan come over for a takeout.

Within minutes, his oldest friend is asking about the girl from the gym — he’s been just as relentless as Seokmin and Soonyoung in quizzing Jihoon, except it’s slightly harder to deny to Seungcheol because he did witness, first-hand, the way you had his friend tripping over his own feet with a single smile. At first, Jihoon tries to shrug it off. Play it down. Change the subject. He doesn’t mention that he’s actually spoken to you since he and Cheol trained together, or that he accidentally bumped into you and paid for your coffee, or that you stayed talking with him for as long as you did. He definitely doesn’t say that you exchanged phone numbers.

He absolutely won’t confess to being smitten.

All Jihoon willingly admits to is that from what he’s seen of you around, you seem nice, and with a roll of his eyes he does agree that he thinks you’re attractive. He gets a bit of a glare later in the evening when Jeonghan asks if he’s thought about where he wants to take you on your first date, and Jihoon tells him to stop asking stupid questions and eat his chicken before he eats it for him. But all in all he thinks he evades the worst of it pretty well. For now, anyway — he knows their pestering isn’t going away any time soon.

Especially not when, on their way out, Seungcheol leans close and whispers that whatever is going on with his gym crush, it suits him. Jihoon jabs him on the arm and the two men leave, laughing brightly.

It’s about an hour after his friends have gone home, having washed the dishes and cleaned up his apartment that Jihoon is sitting on his living room floor doing a few lower body stretches before he turns in for the night. He finds himself tapping into your text thread — not for the first time this evening — and skimming over the short conversation you had earlier. You messaged him when you got back to your friend’s place to thank him for the third time, and Jihoon replied back telling you that if you didn’t stop being silly, he was never going to respond to you again. Your reply came in the form of a “:(“ and his was a simple “:)”. That was it, but he’s been thinking about the exchange ever since.

He’s not sure why. Nor is he certain what about that has him looking down at the messages and grinning like a fool in his apartment, alone, at 10:30pm on a Sunday night. He could probably take a stab in the dark at what it means, though. He rubs at the back of his neck with one hand as he changes conversations and types out a short message with the other.

jihoon: fine. you’re right.

seokmin: ?

soonyoung: probs true, does need context

jihoon: about the gym girl. you’re right.

soonyoung: OH

seokmin: Hahahahahaha

seokmin: Yeah, you’re definitely the last to know, dude

soonyoung: fr even chan and hansol know atp lmao

jihoon: they what?

jihoon: how do they know?

jihoon: they don’t go to my gym! i haven’t seen them in weeks!

soonyoung: because we told them?????

seokmin: So, we might have told everyone

jihoon: blocking both of your numbers immediately.

seokmin: Hey! We’re just glad you’ve accepted it

seokmin: When do we get to meet her?

jihoon: blocked.

Well, great, Jihoon thinks as he fights the urge to lay face down on the floor and let the laminate cool his searingly hot cheeks.

At least he’s admitted it now.

He’s vaguely confirmed in writing that maybe he has a bit of a thing for you — it’s out in the open and at minimum, two of his friends know that it’s real. Straight from the horse’s mouth. Fingers. Whatever. No doubt by morning, all of his friends will have found out. The point stands that he hasn’t confessed to something like this since he was approximately sixteen years old, so whatever you’re doing to him, whatever this… is, it matters.

So, he asks himself, standing up off the hardwood floor and stretching his spine, arms locked behind him and pushed back as far as they can go. He turns off all the lights, checks the front door, goes through the motions to get himself ready for bed. So… what the fuck am I supposed to do now?

—————

Come Monday evening, he’s about ready to hit the roof.

As far as bad days go, Jihoon thinks he’s in the running for one of the worst ever. He slept awfully, tossing and turning through the night despite the usual winning combination of freshly washed bed sheets and his white noise machine drowning out the occasional disturbance from the street below. He wakes up two minutes before his alarm is due to go off, only to discover he fell asleep before plugging his phone in to charge overnight, and it’s sitting at a very risky 13%. The gel he uses to keep his hair off his face at work has gone weird and only does half a job, strands tumbling back in front of his eyes the second he goes to leave his apartment, very nearly forgetting his keys. Then, to really put the cherry on top, he sees that — at some point between getting home yesterday and now — someone has scraped his car while parking up next to him. There’s a large scratch right down the passenger side, with no note nor reliable CCTV in his apartment’s parking lot to confirm who it was, and of course, the space is currently empty.

All this before he even gets to work.

He fundamentally knows that starting the week off with a bad attitude will only lead to a really shitty remainder, but when Vernon sends his routine ‘Monday Motivation’ booster message — “you’re going to have a great day, today!” — into the group chat, Jihoon responds with a crude photo of his middle finger, right in front of the massive scuff on the bodywork of his Hyundai. Jeonghan replies with an ‘oof’, Wonwoo with a ‘yikes’, and Joshua, ever the comedian, sends a picture of Garfield lying face-down captioned ‘Mondays’ that nobody replies to. All responses feel kind of appropriate. But he pockets his phone without sending anything else, sighing again; he locks the car and checks the handle just in case before he finally heads into the building.

It’s going to be a long day. He just has to get through it.

Things don’t necessarily improve. He ends up in and out of meetings all day, so when 5 o’clock rolls around and he’s on his way out the door, he’s feeling a bit like he’s done nothing of actual value. Just, for some reason, thinking about you and tapping out a catchy beat on the top of his desk as he pretends to pay attention to useless presentation after useless presentation. But it’s still somehow been exhausting on his brain and on the drive back to his apartment, Jihoon feels so drained that he contemplates skipping the gym altogether and going straight to bed. This internal argument takes up most of his journey, but it does keep him occupied during the rush-hour traffic if it does nothing else.

Nothing has ever been fixed by ruining a perfectly good routine, however — so no sooner than he’s back in his apartment, he changes out of his button-down and trousers and into his regular gym gear. His protein shaker is ready on the counter for when he’s home again, the lights are off, his bag is on his shoulder and the door is locked. He pushes against it a few times, checking out of habit, despite the fact that his only neighbours on this floor are Soonyoung, Seokmin and an elderly couple with a cat they’re not technically supposed to have. Nobody tells, though, because Boots has become everyone’s emotional support animal. The only actual security threat is Seokmin maybe stealing something from his fridge, but he’s only ever satisfied after the third test anyway.

A quick warmup and a few easy stretches later, Jihoon sets about his business. Mondays are for training legs (and often, as a result, incapacitating himself for the rest of the week), and these workouts are always some of his most intense.

So intense, in fact, that he’s sweating buckets and cherry red when he steps away from the squat rack, tugging up the hem of his t-shirt to dry his face, a brief flash of his toned abdomen on full view. He’s just about catching his breath when he glances in the mirror, and his knees nearly give out when he sees you walking in. You lock eyes and smile at him in the reflection as you start to walk towards him.

It’s not just any smile, but he’s way too flustered to notice.

He spins around to face you, mortally embarrassed that you definitely just saw that, but in a weird way… kind of elated? You drop your headphones to sit around the back of your neck to greet him as you get closer. He pushes his hair back off his forehead and tries to act as cool as he can, but Jihoon suddenly becomes incredibly aware of everything about himself in this moment: his posture, how his arms hang by his sides, the exact positioning of his feet. The fact that he’s breathing pretty deeply, that his pulse is so loud in his ears that he can see your lips moving but can’t quite hear what you’re saying.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit — you’re talking. Focus. He needs to focus.

“Sorry — what was that?” he asks, eliciting a soft laugh from you.

“I like your shirt,” you repeat, a fraction clearer. Jihoon glances down at himself, at the same sweatpants and tight black workout top he wears in here several times a week, and looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. God, he lets himself think for half a second, entertaining his own stupidity with the idea that you’re finding this as hard as he is, too. Maybe I’m not alone in this.

“Oh?” he says. “Um — thank you?”

“How’d it go with your friends last night?” you ask, hardly skipping a beat, and he’s a little thankful that you skim over his poor attempt at gratitude for a compliment he isn’t sure he deserves. Instead, his confusion wraps itself around the fact that you actually remembered what he was doing last night. Hell, even he’d forgotten in the heat of the day he’d had, but you remembered. He’s sweating over it a little and briefly wonders what the chances are of the gym floor opening up and swallowing him whole.

Slim, he decides. But not zero.

There’s hope.

“Yeah — yeah, it was nice,” he says, internally kicking himself for overthinking this so much that he’s apparently lost his ability to speak. In the space of 24 hours, he’s gone from giggling over coffee with you to completely weak just at the sound of your voice. It should be easier here, if anything — this is home turf for him. His comfort space. He supposes the tight fit of your gym clothes accentuating your hips and thighs isn’t helping matters, and neither is the wide neckline of your own t-shirt exposing your throat and a collarbone. But still. He’s not a teenager. He should be able to handle a little bit of skin.

He clears his throat, rolling his head side-to-side. Focus. “Sorry — I’m-… I just didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I-… couldn’t stay away. Missed it a little too much.”

“I get that,” he concurs, willing his eyes not to drop down your frame to a newly exposed area of skin just around your waist, your t-shirt riding up as you adjust your bag on your shoulder. “It’s good to-… have you back, anyway.”

“Good to be back,” you agree. “Hey — can you leave that set up for me, when you’re done? I’m on legs today, too.”

Jihoon doesn’t want to say that he knows Mondays are your leg days, as well, so he doesn’t. Even if it is true. He wonders if you would find it odd that he’s remembered. “Sure,” he says with a small smile, which you return. Just as you’re about to walk off to drop your things into a locker, he pipes up again. “I mean — hey, if you wanted a spot, or to-… do, you know… anything…”

“Are you asking me to train with you?” you ask, eyes bright and smile wider than he thinks he’s ever seen it. This is torture. He’s not even lifting anything and his heart is about to burst out of his fucking chest — God, maybe this was a bad suggestion.

“I-…” he starts, but he lets the breath out of his lungs and shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah. I am.”

“Give me two minutes,” you agree, hurrying off to put your stuff away and fill up your bottle.

He manages to squeeze another set of squats in before you get back, which is sort of a miracle seeing as how his knees have gone completely weak ever since you arrived. He’s scrolling through his playlist as you cross the gym floor on your way back to him, but he looks up and smiles as you approach.

“You go ahead — I’ve just finished.”

He knows he’s really fucking done for when, after the first round, you add plates onto the bar to out-lift him. All before he’s even positioned himself behind you to be a good spotter.

Jihoon doesn’t go down without a fight though, and things get a little competitive from there. Both of you throw some of your favourite (see: most agonising) exercises into the mix over the course of the hour, taking it in turns on the equipment and creating a session that just about has him able to move by the time you’re finished. You talk to each other when you’ve got the breath to do so, otherwise focussing on your workout with more intensity than either of you remember training with for a long time.

And so what if he has to turn away from you once or twice to compose himself when breathless whines spill from between your lips on your last few reps, the sheer effort of the movements pushing your muscles to their absolute limit? So what if he feels his entire body run a thousand degrees every time you sweetly encourage him to manage just one more? So what if his palm stays tingling for fifteen seconds every time you high-five him for a set well done?

You slide out of the hamstring curl machine with a deep breath and legs like two sticks of jelly at the end of the session, and he holds a hand out to steady you as you regain your ability to weight-bear.

“You okay?” he asks, and you nod, patting what’s exposed of your chest and neck with your towel.

“Yeah. Yeah — just… fuck.” You laugh, laying your hand over the top of his and squeezing. Only for a second — not even, only for a breath — and really just to let him know that you’re okay to stand on your own, but Jihoon feels a bit like he’s been electrocuted straight up his arm all the same. “You don’t come to play, do you?”

“Says you,” he scoffs, only now moving his hand from your upper arm. “I was wrong about you — you’re insane. Clinically insane.”

Using the paper towels he went to gather while you were finishing up, he wipes the machine clean as you stretch out your now slightly exercise-swollen thighs.

“I was just gonna finish up on one of the stairmasters,” you tell him, taking a long sip of your water. His eyes widen to the point of comedy, eyebrows high on his forehead. You snicker at his horror, the rim of your bottle hovering tantalisingly over your bottom lip. “What?”

“That’s-… got to be a form of masochism,” he says, exhausted just at the idea of marching up the never ending staircase even for a minute. You almost choke on your mouthful of water, only just swallowing it in time before a sudden, uncontrollable laugh erupts from your chest.

“How?!” you ask, covering your mouth with your hand. Just like yesterday, the urge to pull your arm away, to reveal your hidden smile strikes him. He doesn’t act on it, but he wants to.

“What do you mean, how? Why would you put yourself through that after what you’ve just done?” It’s completely lighthearted, and the rush of heat on your cheeks intensifies at the cocktail of shock and awe in his gaze.

You shrug your shoulders once. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just better than you.” The way the tip of your tongue teasingly sits between your teeth as you grin at him sends bullets of adrenaline through his veins and Jihoon runs his hand over his face.

For about three seconds, he tells himself he isn’t going to take the bait. He’ll lose, he’ll admit it — he’ll put his hands up and say you’re absolutely, definitely better than he is, if it means he doesn’t have to push through a round of cardio after surpassing every single one of his physical limits. But God, he thinks you look completely irresistible standing there challenging him like this, your hands on your hips. His eyes don’t leave yours and yours don’t leave his; both of your chests stutter, just a little bit, and he can see your smile grow in his periphery.

How the fuck is he supposed to walk away?

“Ten minutes,” he concedes, matching your footsteps as you start to walk backwards towards his least favourite line of equipment in any gym, ever. “And you’re definitely getting the next coffee, now.”

——————

That Friday, you finally text him again.

His muscles have just about returned to a working state and Jihoon is quite proud to say that he has regained the ability to sit down without needing something to hold onto. He got home from work, showered the day away and has just settled down into the sofa to start on the book Wonwoo has been on his ass about reading when his phone vibrates on the side table. He reaches over for it, trying to figure out which of his friends might be trying to get hold of him early evening on a Friday, and already going over excuses in his head as to why he can’t go out to do whatever they’re inviting him to. But when your contact name flashes up on the screen, every single thought disappears from his brain.

y/n: hey :)

y/n: just out of interest, how good are you at assembling furniture?

He furrows his brows at this. There’s a very obvious answer, which is that he’s not. He doesn’t want to reply saying so, though, so he goes for what he thinks is the next best thing.

jh: well…

jh: what are you trying to put together?

y/n: a bed :(

y/n: today’s your rest day, right?

y/n: can i bribe you with dinner after? :)

Oh? His brain stalls, fingers hovering over the keypad. He can literally see your face forming a little pout before growing into a hopeful grin in his mind’s eye. He doesn’t see how he could ever say no.

jh: apparently yes, you can.

jh: text me the address? i’ll leave in 5.

He changes out of his basketball shorts and hoodie in record time, abandoning Wonwoo’s book on his couch in favour of attempting to look at least somewhat presentable for you. He tugs on a pair of jeans that he hasn’t touched in about 6 months and one of his nicer t-shirts instead, even going as far as to spritz aftershave on the column of his throat. You’ve sent him your address and he makes to leave, doing his regular essential item pat-down on his way out the door. He puts your new apartment into his phone as he crosses the parking lot, stupidly delighted to discover it’s only 7 and a half minutes away from where he lives, and settles into his car with a series of deep exhales.

The breathing exercises don’t achieve much. His head is still spinning when he parks up in the street by your new place and lingers just outside the building. He sends you a text to say he’s arrived and you reply saying you’re on your way down. You appear in the lobby just a few minutes later.

“Hey,” you greet him warmly, crossing the space and putting your arms around him in a hug. He goes limp for a fraction of a second before his arms slide around you, too. God, he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat right now. He thinks that the effect you have on him should be considered dangerous. But whether you can or not, you tighten your arms to squeeze him once before you unwind them from around his neck and step away.

“Hi,” he says, feverish from the tops of his ears all the way down to his toes. His hands find his pockets as you take a few more polite steps back.

“Thank you so much for this.” Your bottom lip finds temporary home between your teeth before you’re nodding back towards the stairwell. “I’m on the third floor. Follow me.”

He does. He walks up the stairs behind you as you ask about his day at work, and he tells you that he thinks today has probably been one of the best he’s had in about 2 months. When he asks how your day went, you turn your head back to look at him and stumble on the next step, gently laughing and saying that you think you’re at your tether’s end with D.I.Y, but it’s been pretty good otherwise. By the time you reach your floor, his thighs are aching, a bit of residual fatigue from your session earlier in the week making it a little harder than it ought to be. He can’t imagine how you’ve coped every day since then; if his own building didn’t have an elevator, Jihoon thinks he’d have been sleeping in his car.

You give him a little tour of the apartment, and he stands next to you at the window as you point out where you were staying with your friend a few blocks away. He thinks the view is seriously pretty in the evening light, enchanted by how he can see the tops of the slightly lower buildings and the street below, lined with neon storefronts and currently alive with shoppers and bar-goers, but… He cringes at himself for thinking it, but the view through the glass is nothing compared to the one he has inside.

You’ve started to put up a few decorations and knick-knacks around the place too. He doesn’t know you very well, but he still thinks it’s very you — all of it, and he likes them. Even with the room full of boxes and half-unpacked cases, there’s so much personality in it already. Charm. He brushes off your attempts to apologise for the ‘mess’, as you called it, despite everything being neatly pushed out of the way of the main space. It’s easily tidier than any other mid-move apartment he’s ever been in.

“Did you want a drink?” you ask him, walking over to the refrigerator and resting a hand on the door. “I’ve got wine, or-… anything, really.”

“Just some water would be great,” he says appreciatively, and a few seconds later you’re handing him a bottle, turning another one over in your hand. “I really wouldn’t be much help after a couple of glasses, trust me.”

“Does this mean you are good at it, then? Before a drink?” you ask him. Is it hope in your voice? Or do you somehow know how hopeless he is, and are you teasing? He can’t tell. Regardless, clearly his evasion earlier wasn’t quite as successful as he hoped it would be.

“About that…” He chuckles, taking a sip from the bottle and glancing sideways at you. “I’m sure between the two of us, we’ll figure it out.”

“My knight in shining armour,” you say with a laugh, closing your fingers around his wrist and leading him through the door to your bedroom. You’ve managed to separate all of the individual pieces, but you haven’t made any real progress otherwise. He settles himself down on the floor and reaches for the assembly manual, pursing his lips as he looks at the little baggies of screws and bolts and various other things he doesn’t know the names of.

“Okay.” He frowns, looking back up at you where you’ve kneeled down a couple of feet away. You’re grinning innocently back at him, but Jihoon’s lips are more aligned with a pout. “You maybe should have mentioned that the instructions are in Swedish.”

——-

Ignoring the fact that you can’t understand the directions printed on the flimsy little pieces of paper, you get to work. It’s… an interesting process, but somehow between the pair of you, you successfully manage to assemble the bed in just under two hours by mostly following the diagrams (and having to backtrack several times because Jihoon managed to miss a few steps). At three minutes to nine, you’re both finally standing up off the floor, stretching out stiff joints and tight muscles; the bed is fully assembled and made up with your sheets in the centre of the room, headboard against the back wall, the lamp you set on the dresser casting a pleasant orangey glow on every surface.

“We did it,” you say, a little in shock, a lot exhausted, and absolutely starving. At least, that’s what he assumes you’re feeling, because it’s what he is. “We actually did it.”

“I mean, you did most of it,” Jihoon says. It’s true; at a point, he was just handing you the pieces you asked him for and holding parts steady so that you could fit them together. But if you want to call it a joint effort, he isn’t going to stop you, and the roll of your eyes tells him that you do want to call it that.

“Shh. You helped,” you scold him, bumping his upper arm with your elbow. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“If you say so,” he chuckles, taking another sip of his water. Jihoon isn’t sure he believes you, but the way you’re challenging him to argue further with your tongue pressed against the inside of your cheek scrambles his brain. Any remaining argument dies on his lips. “We make a good team.”

“We do,” you agree, expression shifting into a shy smile, bumping his arm again, your elbow lingering against him for a second longer. “Come on, I think I promised to feed you, too. What are you in the mood for?”

A movie has been playing in the background for about an hour by the time your food arrives and you’ve eaten everything. Jihoon relaxes back against the cushions of the couch and you’re settled comfortably next to him: there’s plenty of space on either side of you both, so there isn’t really any need for you to have your upper arm basically pressing against his, but Jihoon is too comfortable to say anything and you certainly aren’t making any attempts to move away. You shift your legs after about ninety minutes, bringing them up underneath you so your thigh is pressed against his now, as well, and you’re twisted slightly so you’re physically facing him but your head is still turned towards the TV.

Everywhere your clothed body touches him is scorching, and he wonders if maybe he should’ve worn a thinner t-shirt, or at the very least something a little less heavy on his legs. His jeans, slightly tighter around the thighs than perhaps would be their peak level of comfort, are clinging to him everywhere and he’s so aware of himself, so aware of you, of your sweet body wash, your fruity shampoo, every single one of your breaths… He’s cursed people out for breathing too loudly around him before, but he thinks he could replace his white noise machine with an eight hour track of just this and he would sleep like a fucking baby.

One of your elbows is propped against the top of the cushions behind you and you’re resting your head in your palm, and (not for the first time this evening) he glances sideways to look at you. They’ve been fleeting glances thus far, only stealing fractions of a moment before he turns his attention back to the TV. But this? This is the wrong moment. Entirely the wrong fucking moment because as his head turns, so does yours, and you catch him in the act. Fuck, if he thought he was burning up, before? He’s pretty sure he’s somehow just descended straight to the second circle of hell, greeting all the other lusty sinners like old friends. Several of his thoughts tonight have been considerably impure, and in this half second of blistering eye contact, they all come rushing back.

The universe is really testing him this evening, and Jihoon is stumbling. It feels like any minute now, he’s going to explode.

He straightens his spine and looks back at the TV, trying to force his eyes to focus even though he’s completely swallowed by the feeling of your arm straightening across the back of the couch, your fingertips grazing over the skin at the bottom of his hairline. He can feel your eyes still on him, your gaze burning into his cheek, no doubt following as his tongue darts out subconsciously over his lips. But he can’t quite help himself, can’t get the image of how sweet you looked out of his head; he clears his throat quietly and looks over at you again, coming over almost completely blank the second he notices the glimmer your eyes hold when they’re trained on him.

Any. Fucking. Minute.

“Jihoon, I-…” you start to say, and he turns himself a little bit so that he’s facing you better, completely forgetting about the movie now. That’s not a great loss: he couldn’t explain the plot even if he tried. “I don’t know if-… you can tell me if I’ve read you wrong…”

“You haven’t,” he hurries. Relief starts to ease the tension between your brows, before you scrunch them again and cock your head to the side. “I’m sure you haven’t, I mean.”

In this new position, one of his legs is bent and sitting up on the couch beneath him and you’ve adjusted your own posture to accommodate. Your knee sits just over the top of his, more of your impossible body heat radiating through his clothes, and he glances down at the site of contact before he looks back at you.

“I just-... I don’t know, I think I knew I was interested in you from the first time I saw you, but the last few weeks especially…” You’ve been rehearsing this. He can feel it. It’s written in your eyes, holding the weight of the words you’re struggling to say, and behind them he can see cogs turning as you try to get the words in the right order. (He knows how that goes, because he’s been trying to figure out how to tell you, too.) He nods, urging you to keep going.

“I can’t get you out of my head. I really like you.”

He short-circuits, then. Even though part of him knew what you were going to say, hearing it out loud flips a switch inside him and he stops functioning. Blinking at you slowly, lips parted, heart racing – he feels as if his brain has been sucked clean out of his ears and is floating somewhere way above his head. Way outside of a contactable range, way beyond any level of rational decision-making. Jihoon knows what he wants to say, of course – he knows that he wants to say that he likes you, and that he has for a while, and that maybe you should let him take you out on a date or something, but all of that sits just behind the barrier of his teeth, so…

He leans forward and kisses you, instead.

He almost can’t believe that he’s only wanted this for as short of a time as he has; it feels like it’s been building inside him for so much longer. Relief floods through his veins, the emotional dam finally breaching. It only lasts a few seconds, but with his lips pressed to yours and yours pressing back, the static in his brain goes quiet, the movie falls silent: everything stops, except you. He thinks you could’ve been carved from stone around each other — he thinks something just feels so inexplicably right. Your hand tightens in his hair and he gasps softly as he pulls an inch back, eyes heavily lidded and looking straight at you through his lashes. You move forward, leaning your forehead against his, and the feather-light hold he has on your chin slides up to your cheek instead.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to-…” he says after a long, long moment of remembering how to breathe, how to blink, how to exist in your space without combusting on the spot. He still isn’t sure he knows how to do any of those things, especially not now he can see every single line of your face this close. He’s trying, though. “But — shit, I’m crazy about you.”

You kiss him, then, harder than before, colliding in a mess of half-finished breaths and bumped, stinging noses. His other hand comes up to sit against your rib cage, yours pressing into the material of his t-shirt over his chest. He smiles and parts his lips as yours move against them, your tongue gently sweeping into his mouth, finding his own; a soft, low moan tickles the back of his throat, his fingertips curling slightly to tighten his hold.

Jihoon isn’t sure how you end up on your knees, straddled astride his legs with one of his hands tucked between your thigh and calf, the other on the curve of your ass — he just knows that he doesn’t mind one bit. You’re warm and comfortable, the arch of your back pressing you into him deliciously. He’s kissing you like his life depends on it (he really fears that it might), and you’re doing the same back, licking against his tongue and rocking slightly with every separation and reconnection of your lips. He feels your fingers brush at the hem of his t-shirt and slip just underneath at the same moment as you pull away from him, and he’s so dazed, so fuzzy, so lost in you that he can only tilt his head back to stare up at your face. In your current position, you’re towering over him. It’s easily the best view he’s ever had.

“Can I-…?” you ask breathlessly. The new roughness to your voice goes straight to his cock and he has to restrain himself from bucking his hips upwards.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning forward slightly to try and aid you. Your hands tug at the bottom of his shirt and peel it up over his chest: he raises his arms slightly and soon, you can toss it to the unoccupied side of the couch. He shivers slightly as he relaxes back, both at the chill in your unheated apartment and upon noticing the way you’re staring down at him. It’s addictive.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, jaw a little slack, smoothing your hands over his shoulders to feel every ridge of hard-earned muscle. You travel down his arms, over to his chest, down his stomach… Jihoon sucks in a breath, your warm hands absolutely searing against his skin, and his abdominals tighten beneath them. Tilting your head, you press a line of kisses down the side of his neck, your lips brushing against one almost unbearably sensitive spot when you continue. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

He smiles bashfully, rolling his head to the side and giving you all the access you want. Your lips tickle euphorically against him as he tugs you flush against his chest, both his hands now tightly pressing against your ass, fingers kneading the muscle concealed by your pants. You’re sitting right over his clothed cock and he’s reasonably sure he can feel your pulse between your thighs, letting out a soft grunt when you roll your hips deliberately down into his own. Your kisses travel to the swell at the curve of his shoulder before moving back up to his lips, where he meets you with a fire that he’s never kissed anyone with, before.

“Says you,” he murmurs into your mouth, your teeth clashing, his hips pushing slightly up off the couch. Just enough to make you sit back from him, just enough for Jihoon to open his eyes and look at you. His hair, thoroughly scrunched up and pulled around by your desperately gripping fingers, fans out at all sorts of angles and his chest has taken on a rosy hue since you last looked at it. With swollen, shiny lips, glossy eyes, breathing deep, he looks completely blissed out, like a man who could unravel beneath you if you moved just right. All from a little tongue action. He’d usually feel embarrassed, but it’s hard to when you’re the person on top of him; to be honest, neither of you would mind much if he did.

You’re pushing yourself up and off him before he can really get his bearings and an audible whine of despair parts his lips at the loss of your weight against his cock. Fuck, these jeans were a bad idea: he’s straining against the denim so much that it hurts, and there’s a near perfect outline of his hard-on. He stops pouting the second you take hold of his hand and tug him upright, though, your eyes dark and determined and intense. He thinks he might faint, actually: from standing too fast and feeling as though all the blood in his body is pulsing through his aching dick, he has to take a moment to stop the edges of his vision going dark before you’re pulling him through to your bedroom.

Something flips inside him the second you have him there. Jihoon, who was more than happy to sit beneath you and let you take all the control in the living room, is pushing you back onto the mattress by your shoulder and slotting himself between your parted thighs the moment the door is closed behind him. He’s past the point of wanting you, now: he needs you, and he needs you to need him, too.

And God, do you. You prop yourself up on one elbow, staring at where he’s now leaning over you with wide eyes and your bottom lip drawn between your teeth. He bends down and kisses along your jawline in response, nipping gently just below your ear. Your back arches up and in a flash, one of his hands is beneath you, snapping open the clasp on your bra with a few slides of his fingers.

“Wh-…” you start, giggling and panting at the same time. He smirks against your pulse point.

He flattens his tongue against you and licks a salty bead of sweat off your skin. “What?”

“Had no idea you could-…” You’re cut off by a gasp as one of his hands slides under your sweater, slipping beneath the garment he just unfastened. His fingertips graze over your breast and a pleading sob escapes you. His smile grows even wider. “You were so…”

“So what?” he prompts, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Another one of those beautiful sounds breaks the air above you. He does it again, massaging your breast with the palm of his hand. “Come on… talk to me.”

“So good,” you gasp, lying down flat and tilting your head back against the pillows. He rocks forwards to press his cock against you again and your thighs tighten around his hips, one leg hooking around his to keep him there. “So-… fucking good.”

You’re so impossibly irresistible to him, especially like this, and he sits up, settling on his knees to look down at you. Jihoon doesn’t even get the chance to move his hands towards the hem of your sweater to tug it off you though: you’re already grabbing it yourself, crossing your arms to pull it over the top of your head. He can see your bra now, and hell, it’s pretty even if it is just hanging off you. Baby pink and lacy. He thumbs over the material as he helps you pull it down your arms, briefly letting himself wonder if-…

“If only you’d been patient enough to see the set together.”

Oh, so you can read his mind now, too?

You glance down to the small space between your bodies and his eyes follow, lips slightly parted, a heavy sigh on his breath. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck — he wishes he had. Even imagining it, he’s throbbing.

“You wear all this for me?” he asks, hands creeping up the insides of your thighs. You nod up at him and he smiles down at you. “Fuck. I bet you didn’t even need my help tonight at all, did you?”

You’re bucking your hips now as his thumb brushes, agonisingly slowly, over your clothed cunt. One arm has come up to cover your face: for the first time, he acts on his impulsive need to see you shy, see you needy, and leans over you to gently pull it away and pins your wrist down against the mattress. He kisses you, his fingers on the other hand pressing slightly more firmly to where he’s pretty sure your clit is.

“Y/n, you’re so pretty. Let me see you.”

“I didn’t,” you admit, voice wobbling as he works you up so much you’re actually soaking through not just your pretty underwear, but the leggings you’ve had on all night, too. He can feel it against the pad of his thumb and he raises his eyebrows for you to continue. “Just… really wanted you to come over…”

“Mhm. I know,” he soothes, bending low again and kissing down towards your chest. His lips purse over one of your nipples and he sucks it up into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the bud. He releases your wrist with the hand currently taking most of his weight and leans on his elbow, teasing your other tit with his fingers. The weight of it in his palm has him murmuring soft praises against your skin, telling you over and over how good you feel. You push up onto your elbows to try and press him closer — when his teeth tug just slightly, you’re about ready to beg.

“Jihoon, please,” you murmur. He short-circuits, again. Goes blank. His name has always sounded so much sweeter on your tongue, but this? This? Oh, he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to recover. That sound is going to stick in his head for days, months, forever, if he has anything to say about it. But even if his brain isn’t working, his body moves on autopilot: he sits up and hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your pants down your legs and discarding them onto the floor.

He’s staring between your thighs with zero functioning brain cells and literal galaxies in his eyes, trying to figure out what cosmic miracle brought someone like you into his life, how on Earth he’s ended up between your thighs. The question is so overwhelming in his mind that he barely notices that you’re moving, at first. Jihoon doesn’t know what causes you to try and bring your thighs together — if it’s shyness or arousal, desperation, a search for friction? — but he stops you as soon as he realises, laying a hand on each of your legs, pinning your knees down now, instead.

“Keep your legs wide for me?” he asks, to which you punctuate a nod with an assenting hum. “Good girl.”

You’re so wet that when he strokes two fingers over your covered pussy, pressing the fabric of your panties into your heat, they come away thinly coated in the arousal that’s seeped through them. He brings his fingers to his lips then, eyes fluttering as he licks your slick off them. You taste otherworldly and he doesn’t hesitate to tell you so with a groan.

“God,” he murmurs, tugging at the waistband of your panties with his other hand. His eyes ask if you’re ready — if you’re sure, and when you nod down at him, he pulls them off completely too. His middle finger slips between your folds, collecting the wetness dribbling out of you, and he drags it slowly upwards towards your clit. He repositions himself again, leaning down over you with his head at your neck, the heel of his hand resting against your lower abdomen. He draws small circles over the bud, laying open-mouthed kisses at your collarbone and listening to the gorgeous sounds you make, learning what you like, following each gasp and moan and chasing as many of them as he can draw out of you.

At the same time as you start rocking your hips up to meet his hand, your nails scratching gently against his scalp again, Jihoon slips his finger down from your swollen clit to press it inside you. You gasp, high-pitched and needy, your cunt spasming around his finger and pulling it in deeper. He’s only in up to his second knuckle but the way you keen for him has him pushing further until it’s buried inside your pussy completely.

“S’this okay?” he asks, but he knows your answer thanks to your vocal responses to him already slowly easing his finger in and out, in and out. You nod your head almost aggressively as he glances up at your face, your eyes squeezed tightly shut, jaw tense, throat bobbing as you swallow hard.

“More — please,” you say not long after. A breath hitches in your throat when he does exactly what you ask, pressing the heel of his hand against your clit and positioning another finger at your entrance. He flexes his wrist slightly to get comfortable, pumping both fingers into you now, and he curls them upwards at just the right time to make your back arch off the bed. “Fuck — mhm, just like that—…”

He moves down your body slightly, reattaching his lips to one of your nipples as he fingers you deep and slow. He’s in no rush: Jihoon thinks he could do this all day and just deal with the RSI later on. You look so unbelievably hot with your face scrunched in pleasure, your thighs quivering as you fight to keep them apart like he asked you to, with your hips twisting down against his hand to try and get his fingers deeper and faster. When he lowers himself all the way down, settling completely between your thighs, he flicks his tongue out over your clit and your back arches up off the bed with a gasp.

“Don’t stop,” you whine, all high-pitched and rushed, both syllables merging into one hurried sound. “Fuck, fuck — please, don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to,” he murmurs, keeping pace and rhythm as he works you towards your high. God, he thinks there couldn’t possibly be anything in the world more sexy than watching you come undone from this angle. Your chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths, your hips rocking down against his hand, your pussy right on his mouth. Just the thought of it has his cock jumping in his boxers. “You gonna come for me, huh?”

“I-…” you start, releasing your death-grip on the bedsheets to bring a hand to cover your face. He clears his throat deliberately — perhaps it’s sort of closer to a growl than a cough — and he thinks maybe you really can read his mind, or maybe you’re learning that he wants to see every inch of you (especially like this), because a second later, it’s tangled up in his hair and holding him in place. “Y-yeah, fuck, I…”

“Good girl,” he coos again, and that breaks you. Your pussy tightens around his fingers and you feel yourself convulse, muscles clenching and releasing as you go over the edge with a cry. He eases you through your climax, tongue laving over your clit, fingers slowing but not stopping inside your cunt until your thighs close around his head in your oversensitivity. He takes the hint, then, and he slowly pulls away, sucking his fingers clean of your arousal while you take a few breaths to recover.

“Oh, my God,” you sigh as he moves back up and starts pressing small pecks over your chest and collarbones, your fingers lacing through his hair again to pull him up to kiss you. You groan softly at the taste of yourself on his lips, and can’t blame you. He still isn’t over it, either.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he tells you in-between kisses, one hand supporting the back of your neck to keep you close. “So pretty. So sweet. So good.”

“Shh,” you giggle, but he doesn’t. Just about every adoring adjective Jihoon has in his arsenal is murmured against your lips until you’ve gathered enough strength to get up on your knees and push him back onto the mattress, fumbling with the button of his jeans.

He groans at the relief as you tug them down over his hips and thighs. “We don’t have to do anything else if you’re—”

“Shh.” This one’s a little more insistent, and he makes a show of clamping his lips back together. “You wore the tightest jeans on the planet, had your cock on-fucking-display for me all evening, and you think I wanna stop now?”

His jaw falls slack at the words that come out of your mouth. The incredulous way with which you say them has him involuntarily bucking up into nothing. Your expression matches his when you finally get his jeans all the way off and his thin, black boxer-briefs are the only barrier between you. The outline of his cock strains against them, tenting the fabric: Jihoon doesn’t miss the way you lick over your lips before glancing up at him through your eyelashes. It’s your turn to give him the look, now, asking that this last part is okay, with your fingertips hooked underneath the elastic waistband. He nods feverishly up at your heavy gaze.

“Please,” he groans, lifting his hips so you can pull them off. His length springs free the moment they’re pulled low enough, slapping back against his abdomen, sitting pretty against his toned muscles, thick and veiny and red-tipped. Desperate. His underwear joins the pile of clothes down the side of the bed as you throw one leg over him; sitting across his thighs, you take his cock into your hand, giving it a few gentle strokes. He fucks up into your palm when you squeeze your fingers around it.

“I need you so fucking bad,” you murmur, head spinning, and Jihoon isn’t in much of a better state himself; he’s fighting to keep his eyes open, fighting to keep his breaths coming. He sits upright, one arm behind him for support, and kisses you hard as you continue to tug at his length.

“Need you, too,” he breathes, shifting so he has both arms around you. In a swift movement, muscles rippling, he lifts you off him and turns you over so he has you sitting on your now impossibly scrunched comforter.

He finds home back between your legs as you reach over into the drawer at your bedside and fumble around for a few seconds. He hears a little clatter and a rustling and when your hand resurfaces, you’ve pulled free a small foil square. You don’t even give him a chance to lean forward and take it; you’re ripping it open and looking up at him with the biggest doe-eyed stare he thinks he’s ever seen. He nods at the silent question, a grunt tumbling free as you roll the condom down his length. This is the most pathetic little bit of contact and he’s fighting demons.

“Okay?” he asks, shuffling back a little and giving you space to lie down flat on your back. You nod up at him, already wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Mhm, just-... take it slow?” you ask him, anticipation rendering you already a little breathless. “S’been a while.”

A grin blooms all the way from his lips to his eyes and he leans down to kiss you again, positioning his tip at your hole and pressing forward just enough to tease.

Your thighs tighten around his hips and he pushes himself further inside you with a stuttered groan, agonisingly slowly, inch by inch. He stills every few seconds, both to give you the time to adjust and so that he can take a steadying few breaths and not collapse at how good you feel wrapped around him; he stops pressing his hips forward before he’s fully sheathed inside your pussy and you let a whine slip, the stretch slowly easing.

“You can move,” you tell him, laying a kiss to his chest. “I’m okay.”

Jihoon gives a soft laugh. Oh, he wishes this was just to be polite, but no. He’s in real danger of losing control any second. “Yeah, this isn’t for you, baby.”

“Oh?” you ask. You clamp around him and he gasps at the tightness, hips jerking forward until he’s buried up to the hilt. Fuck, there’s a bruised cervix if you’ve ever had one; a high-pitched whine erupts out of your lips and he ducks his head down to your ear.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You just-... fuck, you feel so good.”

“Mm, says you.”

It’s another moment before he thrusts with intent, though. But when he does? When he pulls out halfway before sliding all the way back inside you, losing and regaining the feeling of your heat enveloping him entirely, hearing your gasps against his collarbone? The invisible reigns holding him back unravel and he settles into a slow but intensely deep rhythm, guiding your legs around his waist. You hook your ankles behind his back and somehow, you suck him in deeper still, your bodies touching everywhere they possibly can, so impossibly close.

The arm not holding his weight slides beneath your hips and raises them just a little. Now, at this angle, every time he rolls into you he grazes against your sweet-spot and you’re reduced to an incoherent mess within a few minutes. Good, he thinks, because he’s not doing much better, himself.

You hug him tighter after one particularly well-angled thrust, sinking your teeth into the muscle of his shoulder. He hisses at the sting, and your lips part as if you’re about to apologise but he doesn’t give you the chance to; he bumps your nose with his own to ask you to lift your head slightly, before he bends down and kisses you hard.

“Do that again,” he gasps, almost all of his weight against you as the hand not around your hips comes up to rest on your cheek. When your brows tighten, he swipes his thumb over your spit-covered, swollen lips. “Please. ”

So, you do.

Maybe not as harshly as the first time, but your teeth find his collarbone and you suck a bruise into his skin, drawing from him the highest pitched sound you think he could possibly make. He squares his jaw, ducking his head back down, biting on his bottom lip before he has no choice but to speak.

“I’m close, y/n,” he confesses, fucking into you slower, trying to stave it off for a few more seconds, his hips stuttering. “Can-... can you give me one more…?”

You nod, the knot in your stomach already growing tighter and tighter with every movement he makes, and when one of your hands unwinds from around his back to slide between your sweat-slicked bodies, he moves slightly away, letting you reach down.

It’s the sight of two of your fingers finding your clit and rubbing your favourite movements out on yourself that takes him past the point of no return, his cock sliding in and out of you messily, desperately, chasing the high that he’s right on the brink of. He kisses and nips just below your ear, breathy groans tickling your neck, and your high-pitched whine tells him you’ve hit your orgasm just as he starts to spill his into the condom, gushing around him, your walls fluttering and milking him for all he’s worth.

—

You offer for him to shower first – an offer he gratefully accepts. While you’re taking your turn afterwards, Jihoon hunts down a fresh duvet cover in your room; he changes it, grabs you a glass of water for when you’re done, and sits on the edge of his bed with just the towel wrapped around his waist, scrolling through his phone. He looks up with a bright grin as the door opens and you emerge through it in your pyjamas, glowing from the light behind you, stray droplets of water clinging to your arms.

You pause gently rubbing your hair dry with the towel, eyes brightening when you see him. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you say, and he pushes a hand through his own still damp hair with a laugh.

“It was the least I could do,” he counters. You raise your eyebrows at him, crossing the room to sit opposite him. He drops his phone down onto the mattress. “I couldn’t leave and make you change them yourself.”

“Leave?” you ask, picking up one of his hands and playing idly with his fingers.

“I mean, it’s getting pretty late, so…” he says. “I probably need to get going at some point.”

“Or…” you say, tongue darting out over your lips. “Maybe you don’t.”

Jihoon looks down at your hands, then back up at you. Are you suggesting what he thinks you are, or has he still not quite come back to himself from earlier? It’s hard to say if the look on your face is hope, or something else.

“Are you… asking me to stay?” he asks.

“Only if you want to,�� you tell him. He lifts your hands up, pressing a kiss to one of your knuckles, then using it to tug you closer to him until he can plant one on your own lips. “I’ve probably got an old t-shirt you could sleep in.”

“Of course I want to.”

So you slip away from him to go rummaging through your drawers, trying to find the promised article of clothing. The whole time, he’s awestruck. Jihoon can’t take his eyes off you.

——————

He wakes up next to you for the first time on a Saturday morning. His sleep-fogged brain registers lying on an unfamiliar mattress, tucked beneath new bedsheets, eyes fluttering open to take in a room he doesn’t quite recognise at first. Part of him wonders if he’s still dreaming. When he rolls over onto his side, and his eyes land on the curve of your shoulders, the fall of your hair down your back, he has to ask himself the same thing again.

All of last night must’ve been a dream, he muses, smiling shyly to himself and watching your frame rise and fall with every slow breath you take. There’s no way you really told him you liked him, too. There’s no way any of it could have really happened.

“Y/n?” He asks in the gentlest of whispers, only wanting to stir you if you’re awake already. When there’s no response, he moves a tiny bit closer to you, hesitating before he slips his arm around your waist and settles with his chest pressed against your back. A wildly insecure part of his brain tries to argue that just because you wanted what happened last night, that doesn’t mean you want all of this now. Maybe you only wanted to sleep with him, or maybe you’ll have changed your mind somehow now the sun’s come up. He considers moving away again, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling until you wake up and he can have a real conversation about where both of your heads are at with everything, but he barely gets a chance.

Those thoughts are silenced almost immediately, his brain falling quiet the second you roll over in his arms. You bury your head in the valley between his pectorals, tucked away from the world beneath his chin. His arms tighten around your sleep-warmed body.

“What time is it?” You ask. He contains a shiver at the softness of your voice, bliss running the length of his spine. Jihoon thinks that he could get used to this.

“I don’t know. Early, I think,” he murmurs, and you whine softly, burrowing deeper against his chest. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not if you’re awake,” you say. He’s not entirely convinced you can stick to that promise, though, with the way you yawn and he feels your eyelashes fluttering.

“Don’t worry about me,” he tells you, the tips of his fingers ticking against your side. He ducks his head, pressing a kiss to your hair. A soft hum rumbles in your throat and he can’t hold back the smile that spreads over his lips. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

True enough, you fall back asleep curled up against him and Jihoon, to the sounds of your slowing breaths, drifts off too. A few hours later, at a far more reasonable time, you wake him up with a press of your lips to the tip of his nose.

Innocent, exploratory kisses grow heated in the warmth of the sun that streams through your blinds. Hands start to travel, sleep clothes get discarded, and you have him lying on his back, pressing kisses down his chiselled stomach when his phone starts to vibrate on the floor next to the bed.

He groans at the distraction, again as you shuffle up to sit on your knees and look at him expectantly.

“Are you gonna answer that?” you ask, the tips of your fingers grazing his thighs. He shakes his head, no. “Come on, Jihoon. It might be important.”

“Not important enough,” he sighs.

“At least see who it is,” you laugh. Despite a huffed protest, he props himself up on one elbow, leaning over the side of the bed and glancing down at his phone screen.

Seungcheol.

The arrangement to go for a run this morning comes rushing back to Jihoon, who slaps a hand to his forehead and reaches down to grab his phone off the floor, looking at you apologetically.

“Give me two seconds,” he says, and you grin wickedly up at him, ducking low to press a kiss to one of the lines that disappears down into his boxers.

“Take all the time you need.”

He answers the call frowning, flopping his head back against the pillows.

“Hey, look – I’m really sorry,” he starts to say, but Seungcheol’s voice cuts him off almost straight away.

“Jihoon, where the hell are you? I got to your apartment and your car wasn’t here, and Seokmin said he didn’t hear you come home last night. We all thought you’d died,” he hurries. Jihoon can picture the expression on the other man’s face perfectly, which is pretty unfortunate seeing as how you’ve moved to start palming his hardening cock through his briefs.

“I stayed out,” Jihoon says, a little wobbly. “I can’t make the run, someth-... shit.” You press an open-mouthed kiss to the outline of his length, the heat of your breath through the fabric sending him into overdrive. “Something came up-...”

The line goes silent for a second, and his breath stutters as you do the same thing again. Each press of your lips is euphoric agony, and he’s really not hiding this as well as he wishes he could. One look down at you tells him that you’re very proud of that.

“Dude,” Seungcheol gasps, snickering suddenly. “Tell me you’re not with a girl right now.”

“Shut up. Go away,” Jihoon grunts. “I’ll call you later.”

“Oh my God, is it gym girl? Did you finally-...”

“Bye, Cheol,” he hurries, hanging up before his friend can say anything else. He drops his phone onto the mattress, fake-glaring down at you and shaking his head. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Yeah?” you ask, pulling at the waistband of his briefs to tug them down his legs. “Let me make it up to you, huh?”

#fb : don’t sweat it.#I do not even know what to SAY that’s such a big #like a HUGE???? you couldn’t put it down IM GOING TO COMBUST #that means. SO. MUCH. 😭😭😭😭😭#wowowowowowow wowow wowowowowowow wow wow wowow wowowowowowow wow #my heart is doin a tap dance right now and I blame you for it #thank you so much im so pleased you had fun reading this and im v v grateful for your comments they mean the world 🫶#characterisation comments are my weakness. especially. i am so 😄😄😄😄😄😄 all the time over those bc i am with the FEAR over characterisation #tldr i am very soft rn and i am sending you all the happy vibes and good energy I have 😭🫶#q

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lollipopwizard1219 · 10 months ago

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get my pussy up….. get my money up….. get my pussy.. up….. get my money up….

#having a rough two days boys #stepped in human shit in the first 20 minutes at work yesterday #threw away both my shoes #more things went wrong at work #including but not limited to the front door being unable to lock which means i stayed about 30 minutes later than usual while trying to fix #the lock and close regularly #my VAPE IS FUCKING DEAD AND IM NOT SUPPOSED TO GET ANOTHER ONE #oh yeah and before work yesterday i got my updated covid shot (if you read this far you have to get it too sorry i dont make the rules)#which ALSO was delayed and fucky #and now i was scheduled 12-7 but my boss needs me to come in early and im so exhausted and my back is all fucked i couldnt get comfy for #sleep last night #i think getting a new vape would fix me #for a day or two and then make it worse again #PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME GOOD VIBES BROS

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its44intheehouse · 6 months ago

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pairing: lewis hamilton x Wolff!fem!reader

author’s note: GOD this might be awful but please keep in mind that it’s my first story and english is not my first language :) WILL most probably go through major adjustments.

summary: in which her father, Toto Wolff, has always told her to stay away from the young drivers. He never said anything about the older ones though…

warnings: 18+ smut/nsfw, masturbation(f), oral sex(f receiving), fingering, cursing, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, age-gap, praise kink, bit of choking.

Being the daughter of a Formula 1 Team Principal never failed to be exciting.

Always VIP treatment, lots of traveling to beautiful countries, numerous job opportunities and getting to meet famous people. You were always grateful for your privileged life but never took advantage of it in a selfish way, although you enjoyed the things it had to offer from time to time. You always refused being treated differently just because of your status. You just weren’t that type of person. You liked working for the things you desired. Your adventurous side always loved a challenge, and that was also the thing your father admired and feared the most about you.

He always encouraged this side of you, ever since you were a kid. If you wanted to learn how to skate, he’d buy you a skateboard. If you spontaneously wanted to spend the next 3 months away from home in another country, he’d book your flight. One day you showed up at his office to show him your first tattoo. You always said you’d never get a tattoo, you didn’t think it would look good on you. But one day you randomly found yourself in front of a tattoo salon and couldn’t resist the curiosity. Your father was never a big fan of tattoos, but he laughed anyway, called you crazy and snapped a few pictures of the tattoo before sending them to your mom.

Toto didn’t have a lot of rules for you. He always told you “Just don’t get yourself in jail, maybe.”. But the most important and unwritten rule was “never involve yourself with the young drivers.”.

He thought they were immature boys and walking red flags, although he deeply respected them for performing in such a dangerous sport as Formula 1. You, on the other hand were never interested in any of them anyway. You befriended a few of the drivers, sometimes partied with them, but no one really caught your interest. No one besides Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis was your father’s most prized possession in the team. 7 times World Champion (or 8 if you ask me), a genuine person, an expert in what he was doing and the best he could get.

Lewis Hamilton emanated power everywhere he went. He always took his work and image very seriously, always told it as it was and his charming personality never failed to impress everyone in the room. Even the drivers looked up to him, hoping to one day be as great as him. Your first encounter with him was when you were only 15 years old, and to say that you were immediately intimidated by him was an understatement.

The nervousness you constantly felt when you were around him was originally a reaction to all the things you heard about the driver. But as time passed, you found yourself intimidated for others reasons. Maybe it was because you were a teenager and your hormones were going crazy, or because of all the books and fanfiction you used to read at that time, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from him anymore. Everything about him drew you in. His tall and muscular body, his numerous tattoos that gave him a dangerous and playboy vibe, his soothing but rough voice adorned with the most beautiful british accent, his braided hair and smooth skin… That man was basically sex on legs. One of God’s finest pieces.

He instantly took a very protective role in your life. To him, you were basically a child, especially due to the big age-gap between you. But you were also his boss’s daughter so he naturally felt the need to protect you.

Now, at 23, you managed to keep a close friendship with the driver. He was always there if you needed advice for something, always there to rant to about your crazy life and always there for a good time. You spent a lot of vacations with him and his friends. Went to a lot of road trips, skateboard dates, dinner or breakfast dates, countless movie nights, sometimes just the two of you. And although your crush on him never went away, in fact the adoration and attraction only deepened, he not once tried anything with you. He always kept things friendly between you two, decent.

And it frustrated the shit out of you. Sometimes you would catch him staring at you, or even touching you for a minute longer, but never more than that. And you slowly began losing hope that one day he’d see you as more than a friend and his boss’s daughter.

————————————————————————

It’s Friday night. Since you didn’t have any plans for today and were bored out of your mind, you decided to call Lewis to ask if he would go out with you tonight. He apologized and told you that he wasn’t really feeling like doing anything crazy tonight, but insisted that you could come over and spend time together, maybe watch a movie or something. You accepted immediately.

So here you were now, 1AM in his living room, with your head on his lap and eyes closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep really, but your fucked up sleep schedule was beginning to take a toll on you, making you doze off at very random times. Plus, the way his hand was mindlessly running through your hair felt too good.

You slowly open your eyes when you feel Roscoe licking at your hand. With a groan, you try to sit up and take in everything that’s going on. How long have you been asleep for? “Suits” is still playing on the TV, the room is almost dark except for the light of the television, Roscoe is sitting by the couch, looking back at you with his tongue hanging out, and Lewis is on his phone, probably reading through his emails.

“Thought you’d never wake up.” He chuckled, locking his phone and throwing it on the couch.

“I’m so sorry, Lewis.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands in hope of getting rid of the sleepiness and the headache you just woke up with. “I didn’t mean to, lately I’ve been having trouble with sleep. Maybe it’s because of school, I don’t know. My schedule doesn’t really allow me a healthy bed time anymore.”

He looks worried as he reaches out to you, shaking your arm a little.

“You can sleep here if you want. It’s late, you’re obviously very tired. I don’t want you driving back home in this state.” He proposes.

“Yeah? I can?” You chuckle, placing your hand on his. Your stomach flutters when you feel his soft, warm skin.

He looks rather angelic in the low light. His eyes are shiny but tired, his lips look soft and juicy, and his body is comfortably spread on the sofa.

“You know you can, bunny.”

Bunny. He loves to call you that. Ever since you were a teenager, he’d always call you that. You found it cute.

“Okay, then. Can I borrow some clothes, though? These jeans aren’t the most comfortable thing in the world to be honest.” You say, getting up from the couch.

“Yeah, sure.”

You follow him to the guest room. The bed looks cozier than ever, and you quickly find yourself hopping into it, groaning at the feeling of the comfortable and soft mattress. Lewis laughs and leaves you for a moment, but comes back a few seconds later, throwing some clothes on the bed beside you.

“Got you a shirt and some pants. But I’m not sure the pants are gonna fit though. You’re… a lot smaller than me for sure.” He spoke, crossing his arms to his chest. “Sorry.”

“No, Lewis. It’s all good.” You giggle, waving your arm lazily. “Thank you.”

You take a moment to look at him again. He has a soft smile on his face and his body is leaning against the door frame, the dim light in the room accentuating the muscles in his arms. He looked huge. And delicious.

Jesus.

“Good night.” He gently whispered. You say it back and then he finally leaves the room, leaving you all alone. And frustrated.

With a deep sigh, you grab the clothes he gave you and inspect them a little. A simple tie dye t-shirt(he loves these), and a pair of shorts, probably the smalest he had in his wardrobe. And they still looked big. Making a decision, you throw the pants on a chair and only keep the t-shirt, then start to change out of your clothes.

Once that was done, you floop back on the bed and check your phone real quick, before turning off the lights and pulling the blanket over your body.

————————————————————————-

You woke up sweaty. With a groan, you quickly pull the covers off your hot body to try and get some air. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the massive headache you just woke up with already makes you irritated.

Stretching your body a little, you reach for the phone sitting on the nightstand to check the time. 4AM.

“God dammit.” You curse under your breath, rubbing your face with your palm.

You could feel the faint smell of Lewis’s cologne on the t-shirt he gave you. Le Labo’s Rose 31, his favorite. Biting your lip, you bring the material to your nose and inhale the scent. A moan almost escaped you. You could basically feel him, it was like he was in the room with you again. And that definitely didn’t help your current state.

You start wondering what he might be doing right now. He’s probably sound asleep, spread on his king sized bed with nothing but his boxers on, quietly snoring, like he always does. You wish you were there to see him. Admire him. Touch his skin.

Subconsciously, you let your hand travel down your chest and under the shirt, touching at your hot skin. A shiver hits you, and you curiously start to feel around your stomach with your fingers. With eyes closed, you imagine Lewis touching you like that.

It wasn’t unusual for you to think about him like that. But in your defense, you just couldn’t help it. Everything about him felt masculine. His energy, his body, his voice, his gestures. He was basically the man you always dreamed of having, even for one night. You always wondered what he would be like in bed.

Maybe he’d whisper softly in your ear, call you “sweetheart”, take his time on making you feel good, praising you for how good you are for him. How good you take him. Or maybe, he’d manhandle you, make you do whatever he asks, put you in any position he wants while choking you with his big arms and mockingly slapping your face, degrading you for being such a whore, as his cock would slide in and out of you at an abusive pace, making your juices drip out of you with every deep, harsh thrust.

You don’t even remember the exact moment your fingers started rubbing your clit through your panties. You were definitely soaked, the wetness making a faint noise everytime your middle finger would flick at your pussy down to your enterance. A needy whimper escapes you. You needed more.

With the other hand, you quickly grab at your boobs, softly massaging them one by one and pulling on your sensitive nipples. It was all too much but still not enough. The material of your panties was drenched at this point, so you quickly moved them aside.

Circling your awaiting hole a few times, you insert a finger inside slowly.

“Mm, fuck.” You moan, hiding your face into the pillow so you could hopefully hide the sounds you were making.

You imagined Lewis doing this to you. Sitting between your thighs so he can have a clear image of your creamy pussy as he is pumping his fingers in and out of you. He’d have his mouth on you from time to time, sucking your clit harshly and moving his tongue from one hole to the other. His deep brown eyes would never leave your figure, trying to take in every single inch of you and memorize it, so he can always remember how desperate and ruined he makes you.

“Such a pretty pussy. U’re doing so good for me.” He’d praise.

The squelching sound of your cunt momentarily takes you off the trance. Your hand is wet and you’re working one more finger inside of you now, as your other hand desperately rubs at your sensitive button. You can’t believe you’re doing this in Lewis’s house, especially when his room is so close to yours, but you shamelessly don’t care enough about that right now, not when you’re so close to your orgasm.

“Mphh, Lewis…” You cry out, eyes shut.

As your back arches off the mattress, you start scissoring the fingers inside your pussy faster. You gasp for air as your legs begin to shake violently, your swollen clit throbbing uncontrollably. You moan louder than expected as you come all over your fingers, and the thought of Lewis hearing your needy sounds almost excites you more.

After a few moments, you remove the fingers from your pussy. You needed a shower so bad, maybe it would wash away the shame you were feeling at the pit of your stomach. Were you too loud? Did he hear how pathetic you’ve been, just from his scent and a few scenarios of him fucking you with his mouth and fingers?

Sitting up, you scrunch your face in disgust at the feeling of your drenched and cold underwear. You curse in your head for not taking them off early on. What the fuck were you supposed to wear now?

Deciding to swallow your shame, you finally get up from the bed to make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your room. After washing your hands twice with the expensive soap bar, you look into the mirror to see just how messy you really were. Your cheeks were flushed, your mascara was smudged, skin was glowy with sweat and your hair looked like a bird nest. Basically, it was as if you had just taken part in a gangbang.

With a sigh, you take off your panties and run them through the water, trying to wash away the sin you had just committed. Getting lost in thoughts, your stomach almost startles you as it begins to growl loudly. The little amount of energy you had left and now you felt hungry, and incredibly thirsty. Balancing your options, you wonder if you should leave the room to go get something to eat from the kitchen. Your panties were still wet and you couldn’t imagine wearing them now, but you knew you’d never be able to fall asleep again if your stomach constantly demanded food. Plus, drinking tap water was never an option.

“Fuck.”

Slipping your underwear back on, you inspect yourself in the mirror a little and pull on Lewis’s t-shirt, making sure that it covers enough, just in case.

The whole penthouse is silent as you walk to the kitchen. A few lights are still on, but that’s just how Lewis prefers it. You assume Roscoe is in his room fast asleep as well, because you don’t run into him on your way. Opening the fridge, you immediately grab a bottle of water and place it on the counter, before scanning for some food. The indian takeout boxes were really calling your name right now, so you grabbed two of them before closing the door with your foot.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You almost drop the boxes from your hands when you hear his voice. Turning around, you find him staring at you, with a little smirk on his face.

“You almost shit your pants, bunny. Did I scare you?” He laughs, approaching you.

“Jesus, Hamilton. Almost gave me a heart attack, could’ve died right here on your kitchen floor.” You exhaled, dropping the boxes on the table and placing a hand on your chest, trying to see if your heart was still beating.

“I’m sorry. Won’t do it again.” He chuckles and briefly massages your shoulders, before pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. After he takes a few sips, he speaks again. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” You bite back, drinking from your own water, almost gulping down the whole thing.

The thought of what you just did a few moments ago creeps into your head again, and you suddenly wish the ground would swallow you. What if he heard? You get self conscious remembering that you’re only wearing his shirt and your destroyed pair of panties that were still wet and uncomfortable, so you pull on the hem to hopefully try and cover yourself as much as possible.

His top lip twitches for a second, then he smiles and shrugs. “Was thirsty.”

He looked absolutely delicious now, with nothing on but a pair of grey shorts and his braids down. His abs were shining underneath the dim lights, and all you wanted right now really was to drop down on your knees and lick them. You couldn’t look further down though, you feared you might pass out if you saw the imprint of his dick in his pants.

You had the opportunity to take a peek, though. Multiple times. Especially on race weekends, when he would just grab his dick in his hand and struggle to readjust himself through the racing suit before hopping in the car. You knew he was big. You fantasized about how he would feel on your tongue, heavy and large. About how he would fuck your throat rough, making you choke on his cock. About how he would hardly be able to slide into your tight, warm pussy, but when he would finally make it, he’d rip you apart with it until you were left a crying, overstimulated mess.

“Why are you so red, bunny? Are you ill?” He asks, furrowing his brows.

When you finally snap out of your filthy thoughts, he’s already in front of you, checking your temperature with the back of his hand, looking concerned.

“N-no.” You almost sound unsure, your voice cracking a little.

“No?” He shakes his head, cupping your flushed cheeks in his hands.

You couldn’t make eye contact with him, even though you knew he was intently watching you. He was so close that there was almost no space to breathe anymore, and you couldn’t take it, so you hesitantly backed off.

A cheeky smirk was plastered on his face though, and he quickly looked you up and down before grabbing a fork and digging into the food left on the table. You just stood there, petrified. No thoughts behind your eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” He spoke again.

Well, the hunger disappeared, that’s for sure.

You shake your head then clear your throat. “Not hungry anymore. I think I’ll just go back to bed.”

“Hm.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you grab the bottle of water and make your way past him, whispering a “good night” softly. After a few seconds, he speaks again.

“Maybe this time you’ll be able to get some sleep instead of moaning my name while you’re touching yourself.”

Your stomach drops. Maybe you’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve gone crazy. But there’s no way this was happening right now. This can’t be real.

You’re stuck in your place for a few moments, calculating your possibilities of escape. Throwing yourself out the window sounds like a good idea now. But you feel cornered, and you can’t think of what to do or say. You were doomed, for sure. But you choose to play dumb instead, so you anxiously turn to him and speak.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been asleep the whole time.”

He says nothing, and that worries you even more.

Then he throws the fork in the sink and finally faces you. He lifts his eyebrows and leans on the counter, with his arms folded to his chest.

“No, you weren’t.” He spoke. “Come here.” He gestures with his hand.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you decide to listen to him and get closer.

“Please don’t tell dad.” You beg. There was no point in denying anymore. He knew.

He chuckles then, and furrows his brows, looking at you funny. God, you just wish all this would be over already. It felt humiliating.

“You think I’d tell Toto about how his daughter is pleasuring herself to the thought of me?”

His words come out as a whisper as he carefully moves a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know…”

“What were you thinking about?”

You finally get the courage to look into his eyes then. You’re not sure you heard him right.

“What?”

“I think you heard me just right, princess. What were you thinking about when you had these pretty fingers deep inside your pussy?” He asks, lifting your hand and pressing a few kisses to your fingers.

A whine almost escapes your mouth while you’re watching it happen. You’ve never heard Lewis talk like that, especially towards you, and it both sexually frustrated you as well as made you impossibly shy. A deep shade of red is present on your face and you seriously don’t know if you should just risk it all and tell him about your little fantasies or act dumb about it.

“Y/n”

You snap out of it. “I-I don’t know what to say, Lewis. This is so humiliating.” You sigh deeply, covering your face with your hands.

“Hey, hey.” He shushed you, pulling you into his arms. He smelled so good, and his skin felt hot pressed against yours, even with the t-shirt you were wearing as a barrier. “No need for that, bunny. It’s just me.” His words come out as a whisper as he is moving his hand up and down your back. “…Just us.”

Lifting your head slowly, you look into his eyes and bite your lip. This was all you ever wanted. For him to want you back. And now that he finally hinted that he might be into you in that way, had you at a loss of words and action.

Fuck it, you thought. It’s been too long. Too much time spent on secretive glances, crushing, overthinking, masturbating to the thought of him. Maybe you could finally get something out if it.

“I was thinking of you… Touching me.”

“Good girl. How was I touching you, hm?” The praise goes straight to your core as his head falls to your neck to press a few wet kisses, and you swore you could die right there on the spot. His hands squeeze your waist a little before traveling down to your ass, massaging patiently, waiting for you to respond to his question.

You moan at the action, getting lost in the feeling of him touching you like that. In a second, he lifts you up by your thighs and you unconsciously wrap your legs around his waist. He sits you on the counter then positions himself between your bare legs. His warm hands touch the insides of your thighs, making your breath hitch. You still can’t believe this is happening.

“You look so good in my clothes…” He mumbles, lifting one of his hands to your shirt and squeezing your skin a little. When he reaches your breasts, he squeezes harder.

“Mm… Lewis…” You whine pathetically, waiting for more.

“That’s what you were moaning a few minutes ago, baby?”

You look up to find him staring at you intently with his teeth pulling at his lower lip. His eyes were darker, full of lust. You enjoy having him like this, you realized. A man, the man you dreamed about, about to pleasure you.

“Yes.” You confess sincerely, batting your eyelashes at him.

“You’re such a naughty girl…” He whispers, touching your soft cheek with his finger.

His other hand starts wondering further underneath your shirt, and you find yourself opening your legs wider, waiting desperately for his touch. You can feel one of his fingers pressing against your clit only a few seconds later, and you can’t help but moan already. He rubs tight, circular circles on your sensitive button and groans, pushing your body back. You lean back and let him lift your legs on the counter.

“Shit, bunny. You look so delicious right now."

He reaches the band of your underwear and pulls on it urgently, leaving you bare in front of him. Normally you'd get self conscious everytime a man saw you naked, but for some reason that wasn't the case now. The desire to have Lewis eat you out was much bigger than any insecurity you may have. You grow impatient already just thinking about it and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing. He notices.

“I’m going to eat this pretty pussy.”

“Please.” You say immediately, eager to feel his tongue on your most sensitive spot.

He pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and gets on his knees, holding onto your shaky legs. You played this scenario in your head over and over again so many times, and you craved to see it finally happen. You really need to see him.

Standing up a little, you think you might just pass out. There he was, propped between your legs, licking a fat stripe of your pussy. He makes eye contact then and moans, connecting his lips to your puffy clit and sucking, hard.

Your body twitches on instinct and you whimper, pushing your needy pussy into his face. He moans and starts licking up and down your cunt, pushing his tongue inside you from time to time.

“Yes… Just like that.” You manage to say.

He’s hungrily lapping at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten in days, collecting all your sweet essence with his eager mouth. You can’t help but yelp a little when you feel two of his thick, long fingers pushing inside your tight pussy. It stings a little, but he doesn’t let you adjust, instead he pushes them deeper and curls them, making your eyes roll and your jaw drop.

“Oh my god." You gasp, arching your back so hard that you think it might break in half. His mouth is still attached to your sensitive clit, pressing torturous licks on it.

He pulls away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers push in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were glued to your pussy, like he was hypnotized by the sight. And he was. Suddenly, his eyes snap to yours and you think you’d never seen something hotter in your entire life.

“Look at you, baby… Hear the sounds your pretty pussy is making for me? You’re so fucking wet.” He humms and gives your puffy clit a sharp slap, fucking his fingers faster inside you.

You scream his name, like you always dreamed of doing. You’re desperately trying to hump his hand to get more, already feeling the familiar tightness in your lower stomach building rapidly. He doesn’t like that, so he quickly pushes your hips down with his free hand, keeping you in place. You don’t get to protest, because then he curls his fingers right on your g-spot, having your body tense immediately. You’re almost breathless and trashing your tiny body on his counter, and when he gets his hand on you and starts to flick your clit with rapid movements, you know you’re done for.

“That’s it. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.”

You don’t hear anything for a few seconds after that. Your ears are tingling, your toes are curling and your whole body is shaking violently. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers.

While you’re busy trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t stop. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, a bit slower now, and he reattached his mouth to your pussy, licking it slowly.

Feeling overstimulated, you immediately jerk away from his touch, twitching uncontrollably.

“N-no… too much!” You whimper, pushing his head back.

“Mm.” He slowly removes his fingers, and you feel yourself clenching around nothing. He’s chasing a trail of cum that your pussy is pushing out with his tongue and moans. “Such a sweet pussy. Sweetest I’ve ever had.” He praises.

You don’t say anything. Mostly because you can’t. Your whole body feels like jelly, still shaky from the powerful orgasm you just had. But you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. No, he gets up and grabs your chin forcefully, smashing your lips together. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes your head spin and your pussy leak. Again.

When he finally pulls away, he takes a moment to look at your fucked out expression and humms, licking his lip.

“Was it good, bunny?” A smirk creeps out on his face.

“Yes…” You reply, the shyness taking place in you again as you batt your eyelashes at him.

“Good…” He whispers softly, tugging slowly on your bottom lip. “God, I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

God, the things this man makes you feel. He just fucked you stupid with his mouth and fingers and now he wants to fuck your pussy? It had to be a dream.

You want to take advantage of this moment for as long as you can.

“Fuck me, Lewis. I want it.”

The way you just look up at him so innocently but so seductive at the same time, with lips swollen, slightly messy hair and smudged mascara, makes his dick twitch. It isn’t the first time he’s rock hard for you though. No. You never knew this, but he had his eyes on you too. For the past few months, at race weekend, everytime he’d see you, you’d have him losing his mind. Walking around in short skirts and crop tops, or those lovely sundresses you adore so much. It made his dick throb, and he had to make up some excuses a few times just to run back to his driver’s room and touch himself. But he wasn’t only attracted to you because of those things. Your energy captivated him completely, and he knew he wasn’t the only one dreaming about having you. He wasn’t blind, nor stupid. He saw the way the other younger drivers or random people in the pit crew looked at you. How they smiled at you or tried to make you laugh, subtly touching you. It made him feral.

Toto was his boss. They go way back. Lewis admired your father, in many ways, and the bond they formed through working together was tight, for sure. He knew about the stupid rule he had for you, about dating or messing around with the drivers, and he respected that. Up until recently, when he started looking at you in a different light, and the rule suddenly frustrated him deeply. He never had a problem staying away from you. The need to protect you was the only thing on his mind. Then he started to finally see you.

How smart you were, how much joy you bring when you walk into a room. How everyone stops to look or listen to you when you talk. How adventurous you are and openly emotional without a care about what other people might think of you. The way you’re always there for people, the warmth you possess. Your unintentional seductiveness. Your charm.

Now, he had you exactly where he wanted. He wasn’t sure at first if he should tell you that he heard your sweet sounds when you masturbated to the thought of him, but he became desperate. All he needed was confirmation that you felt the same way about him as he felt about you. And he got it. He wasn’t gonna let you slip away this time. And he was done thinking about how complicated the situation is with your father.

Grabbing at your hand, he helps you get off the counter. You look at him confused, scared that he might realize that everything was a mistake and he’d changed his mind. But the thought quickly vanishes when he starts kissing your neck and nipping at your skin, lifting your shirt with his hands.

“I’m not gonna fuck you in a kitchen. My sweet baby deserves a bed, no?” His raspy voice sends goosebumps on your skin and you nod, letting him walk you backwards to his room, as he finally manages to get rid of the only material left on your body.

When you get to his room, he carefully pushes you on the bed, with him on top. The cold air in the room hits your sensitive flesh and makes your nipples harden. Licking your lips, you raise your head from the soft pillow to look at him. His gaze is darkened and his bottom lip sits between his teeth, pulling at it desperately, like he was trying so hard to keep his control. You wanted him to lose it. All of it.

“Please, Lewis… Fuck me. Wanted this for so long.” A whine escapes your lips and you pout, caging his body between your legs as your legs wrap tightly around his torso.

Your confession made him groan. He wanted to keep this moment in his memory forever. How needy you are begging for him to fuck you, how pretty you looked all spread out on his bed, with your hair tousled on his pillow, your lips puffy from his kisses and your eyes glossy and dazed.

Finally, he gets rid of the shorts he was wearing, pulling them off along with his boxers. You're left speechless as you shamelessly stare at his very erect cock. It's thick and you can spot a few angry veins almost popping, running up towards the head. It's standing proud and tall glued to his pelvis, almost reaching his belly button, and it has your mouth water.

He notices how you stare at him with your cheeks flushed and your lip between your teeth and smirks, tapping your thigh a few times to get your attention.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"It's so big..."

"Yeah? Never had a real man before, princess?" He asks, raising your leg to his shoulder and pressing soft kisses on your soft skin while maintaining eye contact with you.

You shake your head timidly.

"Gonna make you feel so good. You trust me?"

"Yes." You respond immediately, squirming under him.

"Just hold on for a sec. I gotta have some condoms in here." He lets go of your leg and leans towards his nightstand to search for the condoms.

"W-wait." You stopped him, pressing a hand to his chest. You were anxious when your next words left your lips. "I... I'm clean, and on birth control, so if you want, there's no need for that."

He turned his head to look at you and stopped in his tracks.

"Want me to fuck you bare, bunny?" He reached a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you lovingly, with a grin on his face.

"Mhm." You mumbled, nodding your head. "If that's okay with you, of course!" You rushed the words out.

"I'm more than okay with that." He hummed, caressing your hip with his thumb. "Come 'ere."

He pulled you lower on the bed and leaned forward, gripping your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours. He kisses you slow at first, taking his time to taste you. Then, as his hands start to explore your naked body, it turns wild. You feel dizzy as you wrap your hands around his neck to bring him even closer and your hot bodies stick to each other. It feels so intimate, you've never experienced something like this with someone before. His erection is standing right between your legs and it makes you raise your hips eagerly. You want him inside already.

"So eager." He whispers and smirks, pulling away a bit.

You glance down and lick your lips as he lines himself up, watching him tap your clit a few times with his cock, then pushing his head through your sensitive folds to collect all your juices. It sends jolts of electricity through your body and you whimper, spreading yourself a bit more. When he finally slides in, it's so overwhelming that you let your mouth hang open with a loud moan. The stretch is stinging a lot, but there's another sensation that comes with it that makes it so pleasurable at the same time.

Lewis watches you carefully and stills his movements, to let you adjust to his size. Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you try to relax as much as you can to accomodate your thight walls around him. Once you feel the pain diminuate a bit you nod your head, letting him know that he can move further.

He slips in a little more then and lets himself moan at the heavenly feeling of your bare, tight pussy squeezing him tightly.

"Doing sooo good, baby. Taking me like a pro." He praises, moving your damp hair out of your face.

He bottoms out inside you and you whimper. He's so deep that you could swear you felt it in your stomach, but you want more.

As if he could read your mind, he slowly pulls out a bit then pushes himself inside again, making you let out tiny mewls and moans as you got to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. Lewis humms and buries his face in your neck, leaving wet, hot kisses all over it before going down to your breasts and taking one of them in his mouth and swirling his tongue around your hard, sensitive nipple. He starts to thrust his hips in a steady rhythm while taking your other breast in his mouth and all you can do is arch your back and whine, overwhelmed by the intense feeling.

"So fucking tight." He hissed, leaning back to grab your thighs and lift them on his shoulders, the new position allowing him to hit your spot better. You felt so full of him, and you were ready to cry from the pleasure.

"Lewis." You let out a loud moan and touch his abs, scratching them as he suddenly surprises you with a rougher pace that makes you roll your eyes back and let out a cry.

“Shit.” He curses, groaning when he feels your pussy clench around his fat cock. “Thought about fucking this pretty pussy every single day lately. And now look at you, all fucked out on my bed.”

His words make your head spin. You had no idea he thought about this just like you did, so many times.

“Y-you thought about me?” You manage to ask between moans, looking down for a second to catch a glimpse of his dick sliding in and out of you at a fast pace.

He went in for a messy kiss then pulled back a little, looking at you with half closed eyes. “You have no idea.” He mutters, grabbing your neck softly.

The sounds in the room are intoxicating. It’s filled with heavy breaths, moans, skin slapping repeatedly and the filthy sound of your impossibly wet pussy getting filled to the brim by Lewis. Your gaze is locked with his and it feels like there’s just the two of you left in this world. Nothing matters anymore. Not your dad, not your age gap, nothing. It’s so intense and intimate that it almost has your heart burst out of your chest.

Your thighs are trembling as he folds them to your chest, and your hands are frantically searching for something to grip onto, while incoherent sounds are dripping off your lips.

“You wanna cum, princess?” He asks, smirking down at you.

“Yes! Yes, please please don’t stop.” You beg, shaking your head as short screams leave your mouth.

He’s quick to drag a hand down to your pussy and starts rubbing your clit harshly with his thumb to force your release. The added pleasure makes you pulsate rapidly around his cock and you find yourself arching your back off the mattress again, struggling to breathe as your orgasm is nearing quickly.

“Come on, want you to make a mess on this cock, baby. Can you do that for me?”

You nod your head pathetically and yelp when he pinches your swollen clit, letting out a loud cry as your orgasm washes over you. It hits you so quickly and so violently that it makes your breath get stuck and your eyes squeeze shut while your legs are uncontrollably shaking. Your juices are dripping down Lewis’s cock and onto the mattress underneath you, and it’s a sight to die for as he watches it all happen.

“Good girl. Did so good f’ me.” He coos, but doesn’t stop the movements of his hips, although he slows down a bit to let you come down from your orgasm.

When you open your eyes to look at him, you find him already looking at you, with an enamored expression on his face. His hand is softly caressing your thigh while he is admiring the post-orgasmic glow of your skin.

Soon enough, he is picking up his pace again and you whine in discomfort and overstimulation, furrowing your brows.

“Can’t. Please. Can’t.” You squirm underneath him.

“You can, baby. Come on, just a little bit more.”

Using his arms, he spreads your legs wider so he can have more access to you. His thrusts quicken again and his fingers attaches themselves to your clit again, pressing into it in circular motions. You were squeezing him so tightly that he could barely move inside you but he pulled through, ramming his hips into yours with brutal force, trying to chase his own release.

“Oh.” You gasped and glued your eyes down to where your cunt was greedily sucking him in. Your milky essence is visible at the base of his cock and the sight is downright filthy.

“Fuck.” He grunts, also watching where you two are connected before he lunges towards you and grips your neck more tightly and yanks you forward a bit. You prop up on your elbows and look at him with wide, doe eyes, moaning uncontrollably. “Where do you want it, bunny?”

“Inside!” You respond immediately, placing one of your hands around his wrist. “Want you to come inside me. Please.”

Your eagerness to take his cum inside your tiny walls makes him shiver with enthusiasm. His tip hits your g-spot with every powerful snap of his hips and it made you part your lips in bliss. Lewis takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you messily. You suddenly start to feel a different kind of pressure at the pits of your stomach and you wince, pulling back from the kiss.

“Lewis… I think there’s something wrong. Feels different.” You slurred, your eyes widening in fear.

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here. Give me one more, yeah?” He grunted, flicking at your clit with his palm rapidly.

The bed is moving with the rhythm of his aggressive thrusts and you feel your muscles contract and twitch with every move. You’re fluttering around him desperately as you scratch down his back with your polished nails and he moans deeply.

“Fuck. Gonna stuff this cunt. Come on, come for me. again, baby.” You know he is close by how much you can feel him throb inside of you.

With a particularly sharp thrust your orgasm washes over you, and you scream, letting your back fall on the mattress as you squirted, your juices making a mess on both you and Lewis. The sight makes him burst instantly and he groans, throwing his head back while he stills inside of you, pumping you full of his cum.

You’ve never done this before. I mean, you definitely heard of squirting, but no one was ever able to get you to this stage. You quickly become self conscious. What if he didn’t like it? What if he found you disgusting now? Terrified, you look up to him only to find out how wrong you were. He is already looking your way, with a huge smirk on his face.

“Look at that. My girl squirted all over the place.”

You blush deeply at his words and cover your face with your hands, but he is quick to grab them and pin them to the bed around your head.

“Why are you hiding? What’s wrong?” He chuckled, amused by the childish action.

“I… I’ve never done that before.”

“Did it feel good though?” He asked with a smug grin.

“Mhm…” You bite your lip and writhe slightly, making him moan at the sudden movement.

He carefully pulls out of you and leans back on his heels, only to see both of your releases slowly drip out of your cunt. He humms and brings two fingers there to massage around your hole, and then he pushes them inside, fucking the cum back into you.

You whine and he stops, looking back at you.

“Wait here for a second, hm? I’m going to draw you a bath.”

You nod and thank him quietly, watching him lovestruck as he gets up from the bed, collects his boxers from the floor and pulls them on, then disappears to the bathroom.

Few minutes later you’re both in the tub, your back is pressed against his chest and your eyes are closed in relaxation while he is lazily running his hand through your hair.

Even though the silence is comfortable, you can’t help but start to overthink. What was he thinking about? You didn’t necessarily think he regretted what you did, but what did it mean? Was he going to ghost you after that? Act like nothing ever happened? You wouldn’t judge him, especially considering the situation with your father, but you hoped that it wouldn’t be the case. Part of you was convinced that he wouldn’t just leave you in the dark like that. That wasn’t Lewis. Could never be Lewis. But your insecurities are still eating you alive.

Then he takes you by surprise again by reading your mind. “What are you thinking about?”

“I was actually wondering what were you thinking about.” You chuckle, leaning your head back a bit to look at him. God, how can this man be so beautiful?

He smiles softly and nuzzles his nose along your cheek, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to it.

You let out a breath and sigh, closing your eyes at the sensation. “I was just asking myself… what now, I guess.” You shrugged, with a heavy heart.

He furrows his brows and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “What do you want?”

You gulped and licked your lips, looking at him through your lashes. “I want you.”

“Then you have me. And you know I want you too. But it’s going to be a lot more complicated than that.” He whispers to you and you feel your heart drop on the spot, afraid of what he might be insinuating.

Noticing the broken look in your eyes, he quickly places his hands on both your cheeks and leans forward. “What I mean by that is, that we should be careful. I know keeping things a secret isn’t healthy, but giving the circumstances, I don’t think it would benefit either of us right now if someone found out about what we have going on. I promise that it won’t last forever, I would never keep you a secret, but for now that’s just the way things are.”

You take in his words. You know he is right. And you’ll take anything as long as it means that he’ll be finally yours. Even though the thought of keeping a secret like that, especially from your dad, makes you feel uneasy. But you’re so ready to give it a shot, just for him. What if everything turns out alright in the end?

“I know. And I understand.” You nodded, closing your eyes and pressing your lips against his in a tender kiss.

When you pull back, he gives you a quick wink and a smile, tapping the inside of your thigh lightly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #lh44 #lh44 x reader

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ghostfacd · 11 months ago

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LIVE LAUGH, SCREAM! | TOM BLYTH

pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary. where one comment could lead into an internet feud between tom blyth and yn avocot, resulting in them falling inlove ?!

author’s note. [ THIS TAKES PLACE BEFORE YN AND TOM STARTED DATING ] thank you to the nonnie that said yn gives off scream vibes bc they’re the reason i even made this post in the first place! 🤭

installment of this au | read for context

ynuser scream bts (you’re welcome!)

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jennaortega did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

➥ jackchampion no but it might’ve when she stabbed u in the movie

➥ ynuser JACK 😭😭

user1 jenna flirting, jack teasing, I LOVE THIS CAST YOUR HONOR

user2 okay but literally your performance was just chefs kiss 😭 PLEASE tell me you’re starting in other movies as well bae

➥ ynuser oh thank you!! im so honored you enjoyed it ❤️ I will get back to you on your question!! 👀

➥ user3 OMGG YN IN ANOTHER FILM WOULD BE KILLER

➥ user4 well actually 🤓☝️ she was one of the ghostface in the film which means she actually was a killer

user5 @/user4 bye

tomblyth amazing film

➥ ynuser thanks

➥ user6 THANKS?? THANKS?! girl that’s tom blyth

➥ ynuser @/user6 who?

user7 no way this girl just asked who tom blyth is

➥ user8 well can u blame her tho?? he’s in like what, billy the kid or whatever? it’s not that known..

➥ user9 nah girl stars in one film and thinks she’s all that 😭

rachelzegler YOU DID SO GOOD GIRL 💕

➥ ynuser rachel my love 😭😭❤️

tomblyth who am I? well now you know

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user10 oh he’s so fine

user11 LMFAOO is this a jab at yn not knowing who you are

user12 show that girl 🤭🤭 she thinks she’s all that after getting one acting gig

➥ user13 y’all are so obsessed with her hello..

ynuser sure. now i know

➥ user14 oh im having so much fun watching all this go down

ynuser more bts because i love scream 6 and so should you!

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tomblyth yeah the movie’s cool and all but how abt i treat you out for dinner?

➥ user15 HELLO???

user16 enemies to lovers era ?

user17 pls lord get these two together

jackchampion say yes to the dinner invite and bring me back steak

➥ ynuser 🤨🤨

➥ jackchampion and a vanilla soda too please

user18 i love jack n yn’s friendship

ynuser and tomblyth both posted a story!

ynuser eating sushi and then putting on some comfy pjs is a great way to spend a day

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user19 the way tom also posted sushi pics very similar to what she’s eating…

➥ user20 WHY IS NOBODY MENTIONING THE MATCHING HOTDOG STORY POSTS AS WELL 😭😭😭

user21 pjs TOGETHER?! im afraid we’ve lost her

user22 everybody knows.. everybody knows

jackchampion splendid way to spend the day

➥ user23 what if it’s jack?? tom and yn don’t even fw each other LOL

➥ user24 true. he did ask her for dinner tho

➥ user25 who wouldn’t? she’s yn.

Eclaté_Mode On this new episode of BTS With Your Favorites, Tom Blyth dishes on his skincare routine, how he keeps himself productive during breaks, and his internet rivalry with actress, Y/N Avocot. Full video linked in bio

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user26 THE WAY HE COMPLIMENTS YN this is definitely enemies to lovers

user27 “me and yn have exciting need to share soon” excuse me

user28 so they inlove or what

user29 yn fell inlove with a brit man it’s over for US

user30 WAIT WHAT DOES HE MEANNNN

tomblyth well surprise. enemies to lovers much?

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ynuser nice pic send me it

user31 WAITT RACHEL HIM AND YN IN A FILM?? did not expect this..

user32 hold awn..

user33 is this confirmation they’re dating

➥ ynuser we aren’t dating.

➥ rachelzegler yet.

➥ user34 RACHEL???

rachelzegler you’re welcome for this crossover, i encouraged both of them to audition for the role

➥ user35 WE LOVE RACHEL ZEGLER

jennaortega take care of my gf 😽

#Coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #the hunger games x reader

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stormberrii · 5 months ago

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It's okay if DBD isn't for you, but I do think that it might be worth it for you to rewatch & try to pay closer attention to the themes and characters.

I would love to know how you get self-insert vibes from Crystal. To me she's such a distinct personality, with as many unflattering qualities as her admirable ones. I don't really get blank slate or wish-fulfillment from her (she doesn't even end up with her mutual love interest, which is something I found incredibly interesting!!)

With Edwin.... I think that you're perhaps approaching his story in bad faith? And that's completely understandable given the treatment of gay characters in popular media for the past few decades. But it's important to note Edwin initially being sent to hell is framed as a tragedy within the narrative, the writers aren't punishing him for being gay, the Show itself thinks that its wrong that he was sent there.

Obviously it sucks that he has to return there as well, but this is actually the show acknowledging his trauma. And it's important to his character arc that he is able to confront Simon. When he forgives Simon and says "if you punish yourself everywhere becomes hell", this is the culmination of his character arc. This is the moment of understanding and growth that allows him to be truly open and vulnerable with Charles.

Furthermore, I have to mention that its not strange that Simon would struggle with internalized homophobia, he was a teenager in the 1910s. When he says that he thinks he deserves to be in hell, that is the belief that keeps him there. And its impossible to separate the internalized homophobia from him having hurt Edwin, because it was that shame that drove his actions to begin with. It's a plot point because Edwin's character arc is about coming to terms with his sexuality, and the encounter allows Edwin to finalize his perspective in a way.

Though I do kinda agree with you about the Jenny date plot line... I haven't thought a ton about it honestly, so I don't really see how it fits into the themes of the show, or anything beyond just fitting with the tone but yeah. Between the attempted murder + that scene where Crystal meets Niko and its easy to interpret as Crystal falling in love with her.... I just hope that Jenny either comes back and it leads into a bigger character arc.

And I do think that Niko being less fleshed out than the rest was more a symptom of having to fit so much story into such a short runtime, but she's not gone yk so we'll hopefully get more development next season!!!

ok i'm so serious, did y'all like dbd? i came into it as a long time good omens/neil gaiman fan, and i don't know where i ended up 😭

the main girl is literally y/n, the gay character goes to fucking hell and his trauma & feelings are ignored by the end, another gay character literally remains in hell for his queercoded guilt saying that he deserves it (why was that built in as a plotpoint? could have just been him remaining in hell from guilt of hurting edwin, but no), the ONE CUTE LESBIAN COUPLE i was so excited & happy for literally ends in fucking murder on the first date (for what?), the cat guy HEAVILY misinterprets safe sane and consentual bdsm in the ways brought to us by the likes of fifty shades of grey, niko was lovely but so one-dimensionally quirky (she was forcefully isolating herself for years, that never came across to me).

genuinely, as a big fan of good omens, sandman & coraline i was a little disappointed -- it feels like the show had more potential and did some things that genuinely were just weird? i did really love some of the standalone stories, like the one with the time loop, and the sequence showing edwins and charles' past, but i ended the show kind of disappointed & confused 🥲

#hi hi!! please read with a friendly tone i'm 100% *not* being aggressive #and of course these are all just my interpretations and thoughts like. you don't have to agree or take them seriously or anything!!#btw the thing with the cat king is that he is a Trickster. we arent necessarily meant to take his words at face value & its to be expected #when he behaves hypocritically or changes the rules to suit him. and you absolutely dont have to like or Get him #anyway i hope you have a good day/night/whatever!! sending you good vibes!!

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beardedjoel · 9 months ago

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pretty little wife | crazy 4 u

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨

summary: valentine's day special! joel has historically made sure that valentine's day is special for his pretty little wife, but this year he's gone above and beyond. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, sub/dom relationship, soft dom! joel, free use kink, orgasm denial if you squint hard, unprotected piv, rough sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), nipple play, choking/breath play, pet names for reader, praise kink, romantic as fuck husband joel this chapter, some domestic fluff, alcohol consumption, maybe maybe maybe there is a breeding kink moment, reader has hair that can be pulled a/n: they're so in love it makes me SICK!!! thank you so much for reading and loving this couple along with me, and happy galentine's and valentine's day my loves! 💋💗💌

reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!

You quietly squeal to yourself as you start to tear open the newly delivered package on your way back inside from the mailbox. You look down at the assortment of pale pastel candies, all strung up on thin strands, waiting to be devoured. Your own curiosity and lack of self control nearly has you reaching in the box to break one off for yourself, but you hold back, reminding yourself just who you bought this for and why.

Valentine’s Day is in two days, but you’d wanted to get a jump, giving Joel a more playful vibe today considering you know he’ll have gotten you something sexy and downright depraved to wear on the actual holiday. Your skin tingles at the thought, recalling all of the things he’d had you wear in the past. Your most memorable being crotchless panties under a skin tight dress at dinner one Valentine’s Day, so he could finger fuck you under the table at one of Austin’s finest restaurants. Keeping your face straight during that had been painstaking, but you’d loved every minute of the debauched public display. When you’d asked Joel why he hadn’t just had you go sans underwear that night, he’d smiled devilishly. ‘Adds to the forbidden factor, don’t y’think?,’ Joel had replied, ‘So premeditated I had to get my baby somethin’ to weep onto while I knew I’d be shoving my fingers so deep in her pretty pussy.’ Those naughty words from Joel still send a shudder up your spine to this day as they ring in your mind. He hadn’t even waited until you two were home that evening to use that same hole in the panties to fuck you dizzy, until you’d screamed in the back seat of his car for him. Even then, he hadn’t relented until you came too many times to even remember the count now, leaving his seats a soaking mess.

You sigh, bringing yourself back to the present, brushing the memories away for now to get yourself ready to make some new ones with your husband. Once you’ve changed, you take a quick moment to admire the scant pieces of lingerie, almost laughing at the absurdity, but wondering how in all these years you’d never thought to buy candy underwear for Joel to devour off of you. You preen yourself for a few more quick moments before heading downstairs, wanting to set yourself up to act casual for Joel when he arrives home. Sometimes you do this on purpose, knowing he gets off on interrupting what you’re doing just so he can take you, fuck you however he pleases. And even when you really are in the middle of something, you get off on it too - being of service to your husband, helping him feel good while knowing you’ll be well taken care of, too.

On the dot at 5:00, you hear Joel’s car pulling up and smile smugly to yourself, continuing to wipe the counters down. A prompt pop of your hips to push your ass out follows when you hear the front door open and close.

“Doll? Where are ya?” Joel calls out, voice slightly muffled as he bends down to put his shoes away.

“In here!” you call out, voice high and sugary sweet, imitating the lingerie plastered to your body right now.

“How’s my pr-” Joel starts, freezing the moment he enters the kitchen. He takes in the sight - you slightly bent over, only a tiny string between your bare ass cheeks, pink high heels, and straps of candy running over your shoulders and across your back. You whip your head over your shoulder, rotating your body just enough to give Joel a peek at the lines of candy also covering your tits. He laughs, head thrown back in playful amusement before stepping towards you, predatory and slow, his laugh fading into a contemplative smirk.

“What do we got here?” Joel says quietly, hands immediately pressed tightly to your hips, his body pushing you forward into the counter. You whimper when the edge of the counter starts to dig into your stomach, Joel’s massive form locking you into your spot. “A little snack f’me to enjoy after workin’ so hard all day?” Joel can barely contain himself, blood running hot as he contemplates how grateful he feels right now.

“Mmhmm…” you whine out, already feeling any semblance of tension leaving your body at Joel’s gentle but calloused touch, this feeling of home. You giggle when Joel leans down to where the straps come around over your shoulders and takes a bite out of the candies, a little groan leaving him as his lips also catch on your skin, mixing the taste of you with the sweetness of the candy.

“Delicious, baby,” he hums in your ear, then goes on to kiss your earlobe. You melt, head falling back slightly with a docile smile plastered on your lips. “How’d a man get so lucky?” He takes another bite, kissing along your shoulder as he does so.

“Thought we’d get a jump on Valentine’s Day, darling,” you coo back, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

Joel freezes, his eyes going wide and body rigid. “Fu-” he murmurs to himself, lips still practically attached to your shoulder.

“What?”

He tears himself off of you with the most disgruntled groan you may have heard from him yet. “Baby, we gotta get movin’. You… fuckin’ little candy underwear, god damn it…” he starts muttering, grabbing you tightly and spinning you around. He grasps your hand in his and starts leading you upstairs. “You gotta change, honey, we’re…” he trails off, looking guilty and a bit flustered.

“Joel, what the hell is going on?” you ask, stopping and pulling back on his hand.

Joel sighs, calming himself for a moment before finally meeting your eyeline again. His gaze softens and he smiles. “Had a whole thing planned, darlin’. A surprise. C’mon and see for yourself.”

You trail after him, suddenly feeling ridiculous in your candy underwear given the change in mood. He takes you into the bedroom, opening his closet and yanking out your suitcase. Your brows furrow as you watch him pull it to the center of the bedroom, then going back for another suitcase of his own. Your mouth drops open slightly before curling into a smile, realizing that Joel had planned a trip for the two of you. He’d mentioned to keep your schedule free around Valentine’s Day, but you’d figured it was just typical plans - dinner, a picnic, or a fancy hotel room, nothing this big.

“Joel… baby…” you breathe out, clutching a hand to your chest. You feel suddenly filled with warmth, like sunshine has started filling you from the belly outwards, making your entire being feel light and tingly. Effervescence. That’s what being with Joel is like.

He gives you a lopsided smile. “We’re leavin’ tonight. Planned it all, flight is at eight so we can wake up there ‘n get a jump on everythin’. An’ then you had to wear that,” he huffs, gesturing to your entire body with a wild movement of his hand. “An’ scramble my brain right up.” His eyes linger along your entire midsection, sincerely considering throwing these plans away just to sate his hard cock, but he shakes his head and looks you in the eyes again.

“A jump on…. what’s everything?” you ask, placing an impatient hand on your hip.

Joel reaches into the built-in shelves in his closet, pulling out a soft, cashmere lounge set and walking it over to you. “Jus’ get dressed an’ I’ll explain as we go. God damn it, this was s’posed to be so much more romantic.” He sighs, a hand repeatedly running through his hair during your entire conversation, looking flustered.

“Aw, honey, it is, promise,” you assure him with a kind laugh, starting to peel off the candy underwear, bringing it over to your dresser to deposit it for another time.

“Mm-mm,” Joel chants with a smirk, squatting down to unzip your suitcase and holding out his palm to you. “Those are comin’ with us.”

You’re over 31,000 feet in the air now, the sky dark outside the plane windows as you peer out. Joel had planned an entire long weekend to head to Aspen, where he’d booked you both skiing lessons and a cozy, romantic room at a lodge there. Your heart swelled as he explained it all on the ride to the airport, remembering how it was on your bucket list to learn to ski, but being from Texas there hadn’t been too many chances to learn locally.

You stretch your legs out, admiring the leg room in the first class tickets Joel had gotten you two, bringing the complimentary glass of champagne to your lips.

“Baby, this is too much,” you say with a slight frown, despite feeling overjoyed at everything about your current situation.

“Never. I’ve been plannin’ and savin’ for this for a while. Wanted to surprise you big time,” Joel says with a toothy, proud grin.

“Well, you did. Makes my candy underwear feel kind of… well, wimpy in comparison.”

Joel’s pointer finger flies to your lips, pressing down before your glass can reach your mouth again. “Not a chance, little doll. That’s all I need from you - skimpy little outfit to keep your husband happy.”

Your lips curl into a sly smirk and you part your lips, nipping the end of Joel’s fingers. He shoots a brow up, challenging you, but you back down. You and Joel don’t always have the most public decency, but you decide it’s not worth getting kicked off the plane just for an orgasm you could wait a few more hours for. You nearly roll your eyes at the thought though, your cunt aching from the unresolved moment you two had shared in the kitchen earlier. You can tell by his wide pupils and rosy cheeks that Joel must be feeling a lot of the same way and having the same conflictions.

“If we wait a few hours… it’ll be even better…” you lean over and whisper to him, voice betraying you as it escapes in a breathy, sultry tone.

“Plane never stopped us before…” Joel says, brows raised again.

You tut, but then smile at the memory of your one sexual adventure on a plane with Joel, when you two were on your way to your honeymoon. A discreet handjob and fingering in first class under blankets hadn’t been the most romantic start to your married life together, but it suited the both of you. “Aaand…” you trail off, placing your palm on his chest. “We almost got caught like five times, big guy. Promised ourselves we wouldn’t do that again.”

Joel grumbles quickly, and you know he understands, but you feel an anxious twinge in your stomach, like you’re breaking the rules. Your face falls a little and you turn towards him, more serious this time. “I know we have… an arrangement, and you know I love our arrangement.” Joel gets what he wants, whenever he wants - the words agreed upon by the both of you within your marriage, and you were all for it. “But just this time I think we shouldn’t break the law for it.” You raise your brows, stomach turning again as you wait for his reaction - Joel is always understanding and patient with you but as usual, you find yourself desperate to please him.

Joel bites the inside of his cheek, then he leans over to plant a peck on your cheek while he reaches down to squeeze your hand in reassurance. “No, baby, you’re right. Probably should be an exception ‘bout planes in there, huh?” He tilts his head playfully and you feel your tension dissipate immediately. “Always the rational one, ain’t you, honey.”

“Barely,” you tease, chuckling in relief. “I just don’t want to ruin the trip before it’s even started. Let’s just watch a movie or something?”

Several hours of keeping yourselves occupied and dozing off had you finally arriving in Aspen, where Joel gently nudged you awake as the plane landed. You rubbed your bleary eyes and made your way through the plane and airport half-awake, just letting Joel guide you with one of your hands gently grasping at his sleeve the entire time. You two get outside the airport with your suitcases, now bundled up in an adorable puffer jacket Joel had packed for you, along with a new pair of fuzzy earmuffs. You were starting to have a sneaking suspicion that there was a lot of new clothing in your suitcase.

Standing next to an impeccably shiny black car is a well dressed driver holding a tiny sign that makes you do a double take.

Mr. & Mrs. Joel Miller.

You tug on Joel’s sleeve with eager excitement as he starts towards the man and your mouth hangs open.

“Joel, you did not hire a fancy driver,” you scoff quietly in disbelief. Joel stops in his tracks, screeching the two of you to a halt before turning to face you.

“If you’re already questioning me at the airplane seats ‘n the driver, it’s gonna be a long few days, honey,” he says sweetly, his voice crackling and gruff with tiredness from the long day. Your open mouth turns to a smile while you tut and shake your head.

“You’re too much, Joel Miller…” you muse, following him to the car. The driver, Randy, takes your bags and stuffs them in the car, offering you an open car door to climb inside. Your stomach flips with butterflies, not having realized just how romantic of a weekend Joel had planned for you. You fight off a quick mist of tears as it pops up, trying not to get emotional at just how overwhelmingly thoughtful your husband could be sometimes.

When Joel sits next to you, you clasp onto his hand tightly, giving him a watery smile that he returns with a sympathetic one of his own, reading that you’re feeling overwhelmed. Sure, since Joel had become more and more successful in his business you’d been treated beyond your wildest dreams, but sometimes it all hit you hard in one big moment like right now, filling you with gut clenching gratitude for your life. Life with Joel oftentimes feels like a dream, something you’ve stumbled into somehow that you aren’t sure you deserve. Joel would never let those thoughts slide, always reminding you how lucky he feels to have met you in that bar, that fate intervened so spectacularly in his life.

You lean your head on his shoulder for the duration of the ride to your accommodation, feeling sick with nostalgia and gratitude as you get lost in your thoughts. When the lodge comes into view, you pick your head up, mind suddenly empty as your jaw drops while you take it in.

It’s dark out, the sky black against the warm, glowing lights peeking through window panes throughout the lodge. A mountainous backdrop is still visible despite the dark night, and you can’t help but ogle at everything, imagining how stunning it will look in the daylight. The lodge is huge, ornate despite the fact that it’s meant to look simplistic and cozy with its wood siding. Joel marvels quickly at the construction out of habit, being in the business he’s in gives him a certain preclusion to commenting his two cents on every place you stay. You’re stunned silent as the back door is opened by Randy and you step out underneath a large overhang, greeted by yet another person who offers to take your bags. It’s all fuzzy, your brain tired and overwhelmed by what you’re taking in right now, the fact that just hours ago you’d been at home, content to just stay in with your husband tonight. You blink back to reality, about to speak when Joel gets to it first.

“Please. Thank you kindly,” Joel drawls, quickly slipping them a bill from his wallet and then turning back to you, offering you his arm. You take it, practically ready to squeal loudly with excitement as you two enter the building. You admire the expansive lobby while Joel steps away to check in - high ceilings and wood beams, roaring fireplaces surrounded by cozy seating and tall, full but neatly arranged bookshelves. A winter dream if there ever was one.

You’re gazing around, tired, slow blinking eyes, too lost in it all to notice Joel come up next to you, his hand finding the small of your back. He leans close, lips and rough beard brushing your ear with a soft kiss.

“Room’s ready,” he practically growls, and your gut clenches at his tone, your thighs pressing together. Suddenly, your body feels alight, nerves buzzing and goosebumps peppering your flesh. Sleep is a far away notion now, recalling the way you’d begun this evening, only to have it go unfinished for the both of you. You smile, soft and docile like your husband likes, your voice a dulcet song so close to his ears.

“Lead the way.”

Your ass stings red hot from another harsh slap laid against it. Joel’s hungry mouth devouring you, your hat and coat discarded on the floor right next to the door to your room. Hair tangled from the way Joel is hanging on to it for dear life as he pounds into you. Your only view is the cream colored walls, your face pressed up against the cool, smooth surface as Joel’s body pins you there. The door had no sooner shut than Joel had thrown you here, as much clothing ripped off as he could stand before his cock was inside of you. You’d cried out, whimpered at the sudden heavenly intrusion despite your pussy needing a moment to adjust. Joel had pushed through it, anyways, delivering the first spank of the night on your ass, pants and underwear hastily pulled down, halfway down your legs - enough room for Joel to slip his cock in was good enough for now, he’d thought hastily. The pain had melded into pleasure, your cunt squeezing his cock and starting to weep, easing Joel’s firm thrusts into you.

“F-fuck…” you whine against the wall, lips hanging open as his cock hits deep, your g-spot crying out already from all the stimulation he’s giving it. He’s not going easy on you, and you’d already known he wouldn’t the second he got you alone. All those hours, the silent teasing going on in both of your heads as you’d waited for this moment.

“Takin’ my cock like such a good girl… my obedient little wife,” Joel grunts out next to your ear, his teeth scraping your earlobes, sliding to your pulse point. You shudder, your hips spasming down onto him as pleasure starts to rock your body. You’re close… so fucking close to that perfect paradise only Joel knows how to get you to. “I’d’ve fucked you right in that lobby, right in that car or that god damned plane. Want everyone to see what I do to my pretty wife, what I’ve got right here… fuckin’ mess only for me,” Joel murmurs, rambling on as he grunts over and over, giving you everything he’s got. His hands tilt your hips, holding tightly while he anchors you there. And he’s right, you are a mess. Dripping slick, coating your thighs, disheveled hair and makeup now from the pleasured tears rolling down your cheeks, wet, squelching sounds filling the hotel room that you haven’t even had a chance to see yet as your face is turned towards the corner near the doorway. It must be a sight, indeed.

“Y-yeah? Wanna s-show me off…?” you breathe out, voice trembling as much as your body is starting to. Your knees are jelly, shaking and barely able to hold you up when Joel delves deep, hitting that spongy part inside of you again, making your eyes roll back. Of course he does, you know he does - nothing brings Joel more joy than letting the world know exactly what he has.

“Fuckin’ know I do… all lookin’ at this tight little cunt takin’ my fat cock, my pretty pussy, all mine.” Joel’s body presses closer, and you’re trapped even more, the both of you damp with sweat and almost incoherent as you near your highs.

“B-baby… I’m -” you whine out, “Please…”

Joel has waited as long as he could, knowing what you need. He’d wanted you desperate for it, so close, your climax just within reach, before he took you over the edge. His hand on your hip curves forward, finding your clit, and you moan loudly at the contact on the sensitive nerves. Your body moves of its own accord, bouncing back into his thrusts wildly, barely noticing that Joel’s other hand has left your hip until it connects with your neck, hand wrapping around your throat. You gasp, the noise cut off into a small choke while Joel’s hand tightens and you croak out a moan.

“Oh my g-god… please…” you whimper again in a strained voice, hoping, no, begging for permission from him. He plays with you a little longer, feeling his cock harden beyond what he’d think possible, aching even inside of you for more, as he toys with you, making you wait. His hand squeezes your neck once more, a little harder, keeping the pressure on. You’re feral, your body screaming at you but you concentrate, holding back, your mind doing gymnastics to try to deny what your body wants so badly.

“Come.” Joel speaks the one word with finality, and you let go, your body shaking violently. His hand releases and you breathe in a full, round breath as you come, your pussy creaming so hard on his cock that you start to feel dizzy from it all.

“God damn, good girl… comin’ so pretty right now,” he whispers to your ear, the noise tickling your mind in the best way. Joel holds you up as you moan and whimper, his name falling off your lips in the way it always does in moments like these - worshiping him. You flutter and squeeze his cock like heaven incarnate, and Joel finds he can’t hold himself back any longer, spilling into you on the tail end of your own climax with a loud grunt, pretty praises for you off his lips.

You both collapse against the wall, Joel leaning against you, and you both catch your breath, the need gone for the moment after hours of waiting. You sigh, smiling in satisfaction when Joel pulls off of you, gathering you quickly into his arms, kissing you all over your head.

“That’s better, ain’t it?” he says teasingly, and you chuckle, nodding in his grasp. You both readjust yourselves, Joel helping you situate the clothing he’d haphazardly pulled aside in his frenzy earlier.

“Much,” you say with another sigh, leaning into him. “What time is our lesson tomorrow?”

“Not ‘till noon. Had a feeling we’d be… up late,” Joel replies wryly, and you laugh again.

“Such a planner,” you poke at him, raising your brows before tilting your head to kiss his cheek. You slip out of his hold and start to meander further into the room, jaw dropping for what feels like the hundredth time tonight while you take in the vaulted ceilings with those same warm wooden beams and white painted walls, a stone fireplace roaring in the center of the room across from the massive bed, adorned with rose petals. More roses sit atop the small breakfast table in a vase near the windows, and when you venture over there, the view you’re taking in is beyond stunning - the mountains in full view, moonlight shining over the entirety of the landscape and your eyes start to tear up. Champagne in an ice bucket, boxes of chocolate, fresh fruit, the entire works are all laid out - such a lavish, gorgeous display for the traditional romantic in you. You turn around finally, meeting Joel’s gaze, where he stands, a smitten look on his face as he watches you take it all in.

“Joel… What can I even say?” you gasp out, throwing your hands up before letting them hang back at your sides, defeated in the best way. “Thank you…” you say meekly, turning to peer out the window once more before walking towards him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“Thanked me plenty back there. An’ every day when you just be my good little wife, that’s thanks enough, doll,” Joel replies soothingly, stroking the back of your head. You lean your head against his chest, content to just listen to his heart beat for a few seconds, take in the memories of this moment. You lean back, tilting your head to give him a warm, grateful smile.

“Take me to bed?”

The next morning is far from the slow, romantic morning Joel had desired for you, realizing the both of you had forgotten to set any alarms and slept in well past 10:00 after your late night. It was barely giving the two of you time to get ready - a rushed shower and breakfast before hurrying to your skiing lesson. He’d dreamed about this hotel that he’d booked for months, the thought of waking you up with his mouth pressed deep into your cunt on that California King as he’d planned would have to be a distant fantasy as you two got on with your day.

Joel couldn’t help but stare at you the entire lesson, the way your face is lit up with pure joy in your ski gear as you fumbled to get the hang of things along with him. He’d gotten you ski pants, a jacket, gloves, and goggles - all the works that he knew was ridiculous for your first time on the mountain for that price tag. But he also knew you’d look just like this - adorable in your matching winter set, colorful goggles perched on top of your beanie and perfect lips curled into a never ending grin - and it made it all worth it.

Joel finds his own smile recounting the day as he keeps a steady hand on your back, the open back, low cut slinky dress he’d packed for you to wear to dinner tonight leaving plenty of skin for his hands to roam over as you two walk back to your room, full and contented. A candlelit dinner in the lodge’s shockingly expensive restaurant and a few drinks had you both feeling good as new again after your long day of skiing and mostly falling.

You two had laughed for hours as you’d fallen on your asses more times than anyone could count. Once you got the hang of it enough to get on the smaller slopes, you’d been unable to stop giggling the entire time, you and Joel catching up at the bottom just to ride the lift up again and again. You two flirted shamelessly the entire day like two teenagers, your heart swelling with so much love for your husband like it was your first date all over again. It was nice to have this uninterrupted time to just talk, get each other caught up on the other’s recent thoughts, feelings, and days that got lost amid the hustle of daily life.

Joel’s lips connect with the back of your neck as soon as the door to your room at the lodge is shut. “Like t’see those candy underwear again,” he mumbles to your skin, and you giggle a little too loudly, stumbling forward a bit.

Your brows wiggle as you try to crane your neck to look back at him. “That so, Mr. Miller?”

“Christ, y’only call me that when you’ve been drinkin’,” Joel teases, snaking his arms around to your front, holding you against him, the bulge in his dress pants becoming more obvious by the second as it hardens, pressing into you. “Can’t decide if it’s cute or jus’ makes me feel old.”

“No I don’t, Mr. Miller. And it is cute,” you demand, trying to hide the tiniest bit of a slur in your voice. Joel wasn’t wrong, you had been known to use that particular nickname for him after a few drinks, but you tended to be a bit of a bratty, indignant drunk.

“Thas right, ‘cause everythin’ you do is cute, m’little wife.” Joel says with a smile in his voice. His lips connect with your neck once again, trailing a few kisses down your spine. “An’ sexy…” he adds in a lower tone, one hand sliding to your hip, then your ass, squeezing hard before giving it a playful smack.

“Keep talkin’ if you want those candy panties to see the light of day again,” you reply, leaning back into him, your weight immediately welcomed by his warm, solid body.

“Oh, sweet girl, always gettin’ so bold with that wine, aren’t ya?” Joel’s hold tightens, one hand splayed across your torso and the other gripping your ass hard enough to bruise. “You forgotten who’s in charge here? Hm, baby?”

“A-actually, it was champagne…” you strain out, starting to pant as Joel’s hold goes even tighter, his domination quickly getting your thighs sticky, and you lament the fact you don’t have any underwear on right now. All at Joel’s request, of course, that you forgo any underwear at dinner tonight. You just whimper out a quiet moan, knowing you’ve gotten Joel riled up enough to keep going on his own volition.

“Think I don’t call the shots suddenly, huh? My sweet, sweet wife, we both know,” he pauses, mouth moving right next to your ear. A small nibble, his breath warm and tickling you in the best way right on sensitive skin sends a shudder through you. “That if I say put those fuckin’ candy panties on right this god damn minute, you’re gonna do it, yeah?”

Joel’s teeth suddenly sink into your neck a little, a tiny bite followed by a suck, and you nod desperately, silently cursing yourself for giving in so quickly, not giving yourself a little more time to play with him, let that tiny bratty part of you out of her cage for one of her rare appearances.

“Ain’t that right?” Joel repeats, giving your hair a little tug.

“Y-yes, Joel, yes baby…” you breathe out, and he releases your hair, his hold loosening on your body before he gives a loving pat to your ass.

“Good girl,” he coos, satisfied, sending another wave of heat to the apex of your thighs to hear his praise. A tiny moan slips out at the two words, still so effective after all these years. Joel chuckles, a tiny little huff off his lips as he spins you to face him. His hand cups your pussy through your dress, pushing the silky material between your legs before he tuts.

“Soakin’ yourself jus’ from gettin’ called a good girl…” he murmurs, lips getting dangerously close to yours. “Good. Girl.” he says with a smirk against your lips before kissing you. It’s long and deep, reminding you that behind the play and facade is an infinite amount of care for you - his wife, his forever.

He tears himself away, leaning his forehead against yours. “Now, go on and change f’me.”

You nod against him, then step back when he releases you from his hold. Breathless, on shaky legs, you rummage through your suitcase to pull out the candy set, smiling when you hold up the pastel treats, strung up on what might be the world’s flimsiest string. One minute in Joel’s rough, domineering hands and these would be toast, you think, almost laughing to yourself.

You see Joel go towards the fireplace, sinking himself down in one of the plush chairs there and crossing his ankle over his knee, settling back as he unbuttons the top few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt, watching you expectantly. You scurry off under his hot gaze, using the bathroom to change out of his eyesight before reemerging in his requested lingerie. You fight a giggle, wine still coursing through you while being reminded of the pure ridiculousness of this little stunt of yours.

Joel eats with his eyes first and foremost, sweeping them up your body as he finishes getting comfortable, unbuttoning and rolling up his sleeves. You stand in front of him, thankful for the warmth of the fireplace right next to the two of you in your skimpy ensemble, and take him in right back. Broad, muscled, just starting to show his age with more grays every time you blink, and you love it. Love every inch of Joel.

“On the ground,” Joel says coolly, and you smirk, trying to hide it into a submissive, coy smile. Your knees go first, the plush rug under them a welcome relief, pure fluffy luxury in a weekend full of it. You start to lay prone, chest heaving with anticipation, mind spinning and reeling, wondering what torturous loving Joel has in store, how much he’ll milk it all out just for your tiny bit of bratiness earlier.

“Jus’ like that, thas’ right.” He leans forward and smiles, a little devilish and boyish in one, and you think you fall in love again as you watch him moving, looming over you now. He quickly palms the outside of his slacks, just the quickest relief before sliding his hand away, starting to circle you.

“Where to start…” Joel trills, and your body heats up even more while his eyes dig into you. When he’s standing at your feet, he starts to come down, leaning his entire body over you. “Can you be a good little doll and lay still while I have my treat?”

Breathless, you nod. Your eyes roll back a little when you blink hard, trying to catch your breath. Joel’s lifted brow and stare prompt you without him even having to say it - use your words, darlin’.

“Yes,” you say more confidently, and Joel smiles sweetly down at you.

“Good.”

He starts slow, lips moving languidly across your belly, up to where the candy rests on your tits, lapping at the sweetness there for a few licks.

“Mmm…” Joel mumbles. He’s back on you the next second, sucking the candies right on top of your nipples. The friction of the hard candies combined with the tiny licks of his tongue coming through to the hardened buds has your back arching, hips searching for him. You squirm, panting now when he bites through the candy, grazing your nipple with his teeth. Joel’s hands come down, ever so gently guiding your hips back down to the plush rug underneath you.

“What’d I say about bein’ still?” Joel teases, holding you there now before going back to bite again, crunching the candies before using his sugary tongue to tease your nipple with a few flicks as it pokes through the hole he’s just made. You start to moan, already a lost cause for your husband, the thought of trying to keep your body still already torturous.

“I c-can’t help it… I’m sorry, sir,” you pant out when your hips lift again, his mouth working harder and harder on your nipples. He grunts disapprovingly and continues on until both of your nipples are free, surrounded by the rest of the candy bra. Joel seems like a man possessed, lost in it all while he devours the candies, sucking and licking each new patch of skin, a sticky, sweet mess all over your skin.

You’re aching, body tense and in hot, hot need of him now as he teases you over and over. Your thighs clamp tight, trying to avoid bucking them up into where his hard, clothed cock hovers teasingly right above you. His hand grips tightly to your hip, the string of candy taut between his fingers. He’s eaten enough of the bra that it’s starting to droop, fall off of you completely, and Joel tears it aside, scattering the rest of the candies along the floor with a tinkling sound that pulls you out of the moment for a beat as you turn your head to watch the treats roll away.

“Good girl, bein’ so good f’me… such a sweet little thing…” Joel says, lifting his head off of your chest, giving you ferocious, unhinged eyes and candy tinted lips, puffy and overused.

“J-joel… please…” you whine out, the way he’s looking at you pulsing right to your already soaking cunt. His hand slips underneath the panties while he keeps his eyes on yours, watching them roll back completely as he fingers your clit. Your hips buck, finally, unable to stop it and you feel your lip quiver as a shaky moan releases from them. Joel leans forward, his lips finding yours and kissing you zealously, a glace mix of him and the sweets has your head spinning as you lap the taste off of his lips and tongue eagerly.

“So sweet…” you mumble into his mouth, going back for more and more, until you’re feeling just as sticky and sweaty as he is, the slow burn starting to gnaw at you, your core dripping while Joel rubs the softest circles over your bundle of nerves.

“You’re perfect, y’know,” Joel breathes out, lifting his lips off of yours just the tiniest bit. “My perfect girl…” You moan when his finger suddenly sinks inside of you, too caught up in the moment to even notice when he’d delicately slipped it from your clit to your clenching hole. You suck him in greedily, desperate for anything he’ll give you and whimper.

Joel contorts himself, sliding down your body, keeping his finger moving at a languid, steady pace as his mouth now meets the candy panties, nibbling along the top of it. You’re losing control, unable to take the teasing anymore, the slowness of everything, your rough and ready husband nowhere to be found right now.

Your moans become breathier, urgent and panting out of you more quickly than you can handle, your mind going a little fuzzy and light as the feeling of Joel completely takes over you.

“There we go… jus’ float on away baby, let me take you there…” Joel coos from your hip where his lips graze against your skin as another few pieces of candy come off. You give him an affirmative noise, barely registered even by your own mind as your eyes slip closed, your body warm and tingling, so desperately close to the edge. Joel’s finger hooks upwards inside of you and you gasp loudly, your body wracked with spasms as you start to come onto his thick finger. Joel lets you freely writhe and shake now, not bothering to have you lay still while he fucks his finger against your g-spot relentlessly while you ride out the waves of pleasure. You’re whimpering, a complete mess, chest, face, cunt, all feeling sticky and completely used by the man you love.

Your head lolls along the rug a bit before you blindly reach your hand for Joel, grasping his shoulder with your eyes still lazing shut. “F-fuck me, please… please,” you whimper, lightly clawing at his dress shirt.

You hear one more crunch of the candies before Joel’s fingers hook on the sides of the delicate string and pull your panties off. You can feel him, his presence hovering above you as he sits back on his knees and you hear him unbuckling his belt, imagining in your mind the sight of his hard cock coming free, readying itself at your entrance. You can barely think about opening your leaden eyes right now, still on the heels of your climax as your chest heaves up and down. You can feel the warmth radiating off of Joel as he climbs on top of you, hands gripping your calves to lift your legs up enough for him to fit snugly between them.

You grit your teeth a little, grunting out a gratified moan when you feel Joel start to push himself in, your cunt fluttering as it accepts as much of him as he’ll give. You’re greedy tonight, you can feel it, just needing everything Joel can give you, how far away from reality he could take you tonight.

He pumps in and out, almost uncharacteristic in his tentativeness, more of his thick length going in each time, and you finally peek your eyes open slowly, hands reaching to his shoulders and pushing underneath the collar of his dress shirt, finding his warm skin. He’s moving slower than he normally would, and you find his face looking down at you with adoration, just content to watch your face twitch and contort with each unhurried drag of his cock along your silky walls.

“Lookin’ like an angel,” Joel comments, seeing your face sheening and glowing from your climax, hair splayed around your head like a halo - pure angelic beauty, a work of art that Joel could never tire of gazing upon. You smile softly, one of your hands stroking his cheek lovingly, soft moans streaming out of you while he keeps up the same pace.

“Baby…” you moan, “I s-said to fuck me, please…”

“I am, little doll…” Joel teases back with a slow push of his dick into you, and you shake your head.

“You know what I meeeeaan,” you whine desperately, fingers itching to reach down and grasp his hips, pull him into you harder. Joel’s hips twitch a little faster, starting to roll into you with more force and you sigh, head thrown back a bit more.

“What, like this?”

Uh-huh. You start to go a little breathless, legs wrapping around Joel’s waist, securing your calves tightly against him.

“You want me to use you up again, hm? That it? My poor baby, she jus’ wants this tight little hole to be so fucked out she can’t walk, doesn’t she?” Joel says, patronizingly sweet with the drawl of each word.

You nod desperately. “Please, sir, t-that’s…” you stop to moan loudly when he bucks into you harder and harder. “That’s all I want…” you finally choke out, Joel’s cock hitting you so deep you nearly feel your breath stolen right from your lungs.

“What my pretty wife wants, she gets,” Joel practically sings to you, bringing his lips down to yours for a kiss, letting his mouth sloppily work its way to your neck, starting to bite and suck while he crashes into you harder with each thrust. You can only make tiny noises, clutching him as your hands snake around his neck, holding him close to you. Joel grunts loudly between sloppy licks and sucks on your throat, his hips moving more clumsily as your walls squeeze him to the point he’s not sure how much longer he can hold back.

“God damn it baby, this little pussy wants me in there so bad, she’s so greedy,” Joel punches out right next to your ear. You shudder, hips spasming and only tightening you around him further. Joel groans loudly.

“Please…” is all you can whisper, out of breath as he hits deep inside of you with each new movement.

“Fuck, c-can’t… need to fill you up, darlin’, need you fuckin’ full of me…”

“Pleaaaase…” More urgently this time, lips dry from the way you’re sucking in oxygen in quick gasps, starting to feel your orgasm clawing at your belly, tingly and hot.

“Fuckin’ full of me… gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. Give you my f-fuckin’ baby right now… m-make you swell up,” Joel pants, his face buried in your shoulder, biting down. You gasp, completely lost to the moment, fingers digging into his skin as you pull him in tighter, legs and feet crushed against his back. There are no two bodies here, only togetherness and sweat and breath - two people so lost in the moment and pure pleasure that they’re outside of themselves, becoming one frenzied movement to climb higher and higher to that sweet peak of relief.

“F-fuck… yes, yes, baby, yes…” you moan out. “Fill me up… d-do it…” you whine. With a stunted grunt Joel’s hips stutter forward, burying himself deep. The power, the emotion of it all as he starts to paint your walls tips you over the edge, fluttering tightly around him as you milk every bit of his seed into you, spasming and moaning as you reach another high.

“Oh my god…” you breathe out as you come hard, Joel’s ragged breath right in your ear softly moaning for you. The both of you fully collapse, Joel rolling to the side, clutching an arm around your chest. The crackling sound of the fireplace start to come back into your consciousness, the stillness and warmth of the room hitting you all over again while you lay back, feeling the stickiness of the two of you steadily leaking out of you. You’re speechless now, barely able to catch your breath, let alone process what Joel had hummed into your ear in the heat of the moment.

A baby. Did he really want that with you?

You two hadn’t discussed having children very often just yet, wanting to wait and enjoy being married, being just you two for a few years. But you felt your heart flutter a little, the thought of a little life inside of you, yours and Joel’s, a beautiful loved baby that you’d grow and nurture together. You can scarcely breathe at the thought, the love your heart swells with for this faraway notion, this unconceived child, already imprinting themselves onto your heart.

“Joel…” you murmur. His head turns towards you, and you watch light flickering around him from the shadows the fire is casting along his golden skin.

“I-” Joel stutters, seeing the look in your eyes. For once, he’s not sure he can quite read it. He knows he said something so much more tangible this time, beyond all the dirty talk the both of you love to get lost in. It was too much, surely, he’d scared you with it. “I’m sorry, honey, that was… jus’ caught in the moment, maybe…”

Your face falls a little, eyes dropping to peer past him with a sad look. “Were you?” you ask timidly, hands coming together on your belly and wringing nervously.

Joel’s eyes bore into yours, soft now, none of that feral fire that was there only minutes ago. He shakes his head slowly.

“N-no, no I wasn’t, doll,” he replies quietly. Your lips twitch a little, a small smile that you’re not able to hold back now.

“I, uh, I wasn’t either,” you tell him, and Joel’s eyes flash, lighting up a bit.

He turns completely on his side, and you do too, facing each other and scooting even closer. Joel drapes a hand over you, starting to rub lazy patterns onto your back. “So should we… uh, talk about this, then?” he asks, giving you a half, lopsided smile.

You give him a nod and a toothy grin, resting your forehead against his. “Get me those chocolates on the table over there and then we’re in business.” Joel moves without hesitation, winking at you as he pulls himself off the floor.

“Anythin’ f’you, darlin’."

You have no idea what hour it is, how long you’ve even been asleep when you feel Joel’s warm body pressing into yours, his chest now up against your back. The room is still nearly pitch black, making you take a moment to recall exactly where you are. You sigh, smiling softly at the memory of your trip thus far and you see a tiny sliver of light coming in around the blackout curtains in the room, clearly doing their job well by keeping you two asleep for god knows how long.

“Baby…” Joel whispers in your ear. You roll over slightly, your ass now rubbing into his crotch. Your eyes flutter slightly when you feel his cock, already half hard for you. Your insatiable husband, fucking you within an inch of your life for two nights in a row, and still coming back for more - a rare man of his age so voraciously consuming you over and over, never seeming to be satisfied.

“Hmm?” you murmur in reply. Joel wraps an arm across you, snuggling you closer, all warm heat against his broad, naked chest.

“Mornin’...” he mumbles back, lips pressed to your neck. “Sweet girl.”

“Morning, handsome,” you say, reaching an arm behind you to cup Joel’s cheek, running your fingers through his beard. He hums in pleasure, dipping his lips down to kiss your neck again. You shudder, digging yourself deeper under the plush comforter as you feel goosebumps covering your entire body. Joel’s hands start to roam, sliding over the skimpy, half see through pink slip you’d discovered in your suitcase last night.

Joel is suddenly shifting in the bed, and you feel the sheets rustling next to you before he’s bumping your legs as he climbs over them, settling himself underneath the comforter right in between your thighs. His touch just grazes over your plush thighs, soft and gentle, how Joel tends to be first thing in the mornings before he descends into the rough, possessive man that you’re more used to.

“So soft, little doll…” Joel murmurs from between your legs, his breath hot on your inner thighs while he leans down to kiss the outside of your panties. You just mumble incoherent noises of affirmation, still half asleep. Joel makes quick work of your panties, a pair to match the slip, of course, and pulls them down your legs, discarding them in the mess of sheets.

Your hips buck, a louder moan escaping you when his mouth finds your warm center, already wet and wanting for him.

“She’s ready f’me, ain’t she… waitin’ on her mornin’ wakeup,” Joel teases before running his tongue up your slit another time, flicking it on your clit a few times. A gentle suck there has your whining ramping up, hips begging him for more more more already. You’re barely even lucid yet and Joel is on the precipice of pulling yet another earth shattering orgasm out of you.

“J-jesus… please…” you beg, already feeling the familiar warmth pooling tighter in your core, your knees wobbling as they curl up, giving you some leverage to lazily push your hips against Joel’s tongue as it moves along your pussy.

“C’mon baby, fall apart f’me, s’okay it’s so fast…” Joel pulls back to murmur to you, kissing along your inner thighs as he speaks.

Your hand snakes below the sheets, burying your fingers into his lush, gorgeous curls, letting them massage his scalp as he dives back into your cunt, licking in just the right way he knows makes you go crazy with need, that makes you come within minutes, sometimes even much less.

You moan loudly, hips spasming as your climax surprises you suddenly, the waves of pleasure hitting you while Joel lets you ride it out onto his face. Your eyes roll back and you whimper quietly as you come down, flopping onto the bed with a content little sigh, body going limp. Joel kisses his way up your stomach, chest, and finally your lips, where you taste that primal honey of yourself on his lips. You quickly fall back into a dozing, lazy state before Joel wakes you again with his lips on your neck.

“Gonna order us room service,” he whispers near your ear, and you nod, finally opening your eyes to see your husband’s rugged, handsome face hovering above yours. Sharp smirk, stress lines, wild bedhead and all - he’s perfect, and you can’t help but smile sleepily in return.

“There she is,” he teases, giving your forehead a smooch. “One mention of breakfast and she’s all bright eyed ‘n bushy tailed, huh?” You stick your tongue out teasingly, waggling your head at him.

“How about we eat, then we can go explore the town, do a little shoppin’ f’you, see the sights ‘n all that, hm?” Joel asks, and you nod tiredly but excitedly.

“Mmm, sounds good,” you agree, blinking slowly as you try to wake up, finally coming to enough to recall the conversation the two of you had last night. The dreams you’d shared, hopes you had for having a child, all the ways your lives would change but also stay quite the same. The way your love would stay the same, deepen even, with seeing the other become a parent. Weighing it all carefully but with hopeful hushed voices, wondering if this was the right time for that next step for the two of you. When you’d both tearfully agreed that you’d start really trying in a few months after some more planning and thought, your heart soared higher than the clouds, than anywhere you could even conceive in your mind, chest tight with anticipation for all of it.

This morning that same feeling persists as you look upon Joel - so steady, so assured - everything you’ve ever dreamed of right here in this one man.

“How about we get some practice in while we wait for the food…” you suggest with your raspy, sleep laden voice, raising your brows at him as you feel his cock brush against you again, clearly hard and wanting.

“Baby makin’ practice?” Joel teases, scooping you up into his arms and peppering kisses all along the side of your face. “That kinda practice, hm? Not just an excuse to get me naked again?”

You laugh, turning your head to kiss him back, relishing in the familiar plumpness of his lips, the taste of your husband, all of it like a map you’ve traced your fingers over hundreds of times now, knowing every route, twist, and turn, filled with such a deep appreciation for the landscape laid out in front of you. You smile again as you two look at each other, feeling your cheeks starting to hurt from the way you’ve been grinning practically non-stop for the last two days because of your gruff but secretly so soft husband. Your hand moves upwards to cup his cheek, sincerity written all over you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Joel.”

Joel smiles back, the same unspoken thoughts and deeply rooted loving care for you penned all over his features, entrenched in every weathered line, nook, and cranny of him.

“Happy Valentine’s, little doll.”

dividers by the amazing @/saradika-graphics <3

#fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #x reader #the last of us fanfiction

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months ago

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💝 twst 2024 valentine gift message compilation 🎁

Yes, it’s that time of year again—

For preliminary information on what this is, please check out this post!

This year’s messages came printed on a coffin-shaped piece of paper. (The back of it is shown in the image above.)

The common theme underlying all of the messages is that the sender (you!) gifted the character a fragrance.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

Riddle

My dear friend—

Thank you for your gift.

I’m not an expert, but I once read

that this type of thing can help with

relaxation. I’ll certainly try it out

soon. I’ll make you herbal tea

sometime as a token of my

gratitude.

Trey

Hello, friend—

Thank you for the lovely gift. I’ve

been busy lately, so it’s nice to have

something to help me relax. You’re

always going the extra mile for

everyone around you. I’ll bring some

homemade sweets over soon to say

thanks, okay?

Cater

Eeey, friendo!

Thanks for the totes ‘Cammable

gift! It looks nice, AND it’s got a

fragrance that’s right up Cay-Cay’s

alley. I’m super excited for the

gift-back, and hope you are, too!

I’m gonna get you something you’ll

be amped to post about on

Magicam.

Ace

Heya, pal—

I never thought you’d get me

something so fancy! It’s got just the

kind of scent I like. You’ve got

perfect taste. I’m gonna use it

soon—thanks! As for what to give

you in return, well… Got any

requests? Just don’t go too

overboard.

Deuce

My good friend—

Thanks for the gift! I didn’t think

it’d be something so fancy. You’ve

got a good eye for this stuff, Prefect!

It’s nice having a fresh scent in my

room to help me focus when I’m

studying! Wait until you see what

grade I get on my next test.

Leona

Hey—

Allow me to thank you for your

generous gift. Heh. Can’t believe

you actually picked out a halfway

decent fragrance. I might actually

keep this. I thought about sending

you something in return if the mood

struck me, but this thank-you note

should do the job just fine, right?

Ruggie

Hey—

Thanks for the gift! I don’t buy

things that aren’t absolute

necessities, so it’s nice getting

something like this. Don’t get me

wrong, though. I’m REALLY not

picky when it comes to people

giving me presents, so feel free to

keep giving me whatever you like!

Jack

Hi.

Thanks for the gift.

This is the kind of subtle fragrance I

can see myself using. I don’t like

being indebted to others, so I’ll

think of something to send in return

so we’re even. Don’t expect too

much. Just sit tight.

Azul

My boon companion—

Thank you for your wonderful gift.

You have quite the eye for quality

and chose a fine fragrance. That

said, I prefer not to accept gifts

without providing anything in

return. Expect something from me

of equivalent value soon.

Jade

My dear friend—

Thank you for your lovely present.

Did you know that morays have

keen senses of smell? I’ll quite enjoy

this. I’d like to treat you to a drink

at the Mostro Lounge in return.

What do you say?

Floyd

Dear Little Shrimpy—

What a neat choice for a present.

Did you pick out this scent ‘cause it

reminded you of me? Kinds funny if

this is the vibe I give you. I guess I’ll

use it if I feel like it. No promises.

Kalim

To my dear friend—

Thanks for the gift. You picked this

fragrance out for me, right? I’m

flattered! Ooh, I know. Next time

you’re in a gift-giving mood, you

could take me shopping to help pick

it out! The more the merrier, right?

Then again, that might defeat the

purpose of the gift… But let’s not

sweat the details!

Jamil

Hello—

I was surprised enough just to

receive a gift from you, but a

fragrance? You never fail to surprise.

It couldn’t have been easy selecting

this. I’ll have to gift you something

appropriate in return.

Vil

Dearest friend—

Thank you for your gift. It was a

rather thoughtful choice; I can use

this when I’m doing stretches. What

would you like in return, I wonder?

You’re getting something

hand-picked by me, so I’ve no doubt

you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Rook

Bonjour—

And merci boucoup! Did you

choose this just for me? I’m

delighted. The design is so lovely

and elegant. I normally avoid using

fragrances unless it’s a special

occasion, in which case I shall

happily wear one—the one you gave

me, of course.

Epel

Dear classmate—

Thanks for the gift! I don’t know

much about fragrances, but this

one’s mighty fine! It makes my

dorm room feel a smidge more

fancy. I’d better get you something

nice in return. It’s kinds fun

thinking up ideas for that.

Idia

@YOU

uh, are u saying I stink? is this like

a passive-aggressive gesture or sth?

I have questions, but since u gave

it to me, I gratefully accept. I

don’t pay much attention to

fragrances, but this one smelled pretty.

dece when I gave it a whiff.

Ortho

Hello, Prefect—

Thank you for the gift! It’s a

fragrance, right? So this is how you

perceive me. That’s fascinating! I’m

about to do a thorough analysis of

its composition. Who knows? I

might discover something neat. Let

me know what fragrances you’re

into sometime!

Malleus

To my good friend—

Thank you for the gift. Hmm…

This fragrance is meant for pleasure

and relaxation? What a tasteful

choice. I rather like it; perhaps I

shall take more of an interest in

these things. You would be welcome

to pay me a visit, by the way, should

you feel so inclined. I would enjoy

sharing an old tale or two.

Lilia

Greetings!

Thank you for picking something

out for me. It’s a rather nice gift.

Immersing myself in an unusual

fragrance reminds me of my days

visiting other lands. I know! I

should cook for you some foreign

cuisine as a token of gratitude! I can

hardly wait.

Silver

Salutations—

Thank you for your gift. This smell

is so nice and relaxing, it makes me

want to nod off. I hope tjis

improves the quality of my sleep

and helps me want to wake up sooner

when my alarm clock goes off. I’ll let

you know how it goes. Hopefully

well.

Sebek

Human—

I’ve received your gift. Fragrances

are a part of one’s personal

grooming, and you had the nerve to

gift one to ME?! Challenge

accepted. I’ll come up with the

perfect thing to return the

sentiment. You’re going to get

what’s coming to you—mark my

words!

Crowley

Dear esteemed student—

I was quite taken aback when an

unexpected package arrived in the

headmage’s office! To think you

would send me something so

thoughtful… Hmm. This fragrance

suits my tastes nicely. Normally I

wouldn’t be able to accept personal

gifts, but I think I’ll make an

exception for this, seeing as I’m

kind.

Crewel

Dear pup—

What is this? Giving personal gifts

to teachers is hardly good pup

behavior. But the moment I opened

the wrapping, I could tell you

picked this out for me. The design is

suitable enough, as is the fragrance

itself. I suppose I must commend

your knack for gift-giving. Good

boy.

Trein

Dear juvenile—

I generally decline gifts from

students, but you clearly chose this

scent out of respect for me. I won’t

use it around Lucius, but it might

be nice to use in the staff room

every once in a while. I gratefully

accept.

Vargas

Dear student—

What is this? Did I give you

a homework assignment that involved

getting me a present? Kidding, of

course. This is the perfect scent for a

guy as cool as me! I’ll teach you how

to make my signature Vargas

protein drink in return!

Sam

Heya, my little imp!

What is up? Did you pick this out

just for me? It’s a fantastic scent,

thanks! If you’re interested in this

type of thing, I happen to have a

fine selection in stock, so swing by

whenever you want! I’m looking

forward to your next visit.

Grim

Dear minion—

Mrah?! I was expecting tuna, but

instead I get some weird thing

called a fragrance? What IS this

thing? I woulda taken tuna in a

heartbeat, but since my

hench-human picked this out for

me, I guess a proper boss would put

it to good use. Be grateful for my

kindness, partner!

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leejenowrld · 9 months ago

Text

ghostin’ (two)

pairing na jaemin x y/n (fem)

word count 17k

genre smut, fluff, angst, situationship vibes, college au

chapter summary you and jaemin grow closer, the sex is really fucking good and everyone finds out. you begin trusting him more than you ever thought you would but amidst the bliss, you wonder: is it too good to be true?

one | two | three | four

chapter warnings jaemin and reader moments, so many jaem and reader moments, jaemin aftercare, hot and mature jaemin, jaemin fingers reader under the table, jaemin obbession with readers thighs, jaemin cockwarming moments, personal talks, jaemin fucks you doggy style against the railings and everyone sees. you ride jaemin in his car, nevertheless inspired lollipop kiss, reader x jeno x haerin sexual moments, girl moments🫶, jeno and reader moments, soft jaemin, soft reader, please they’re literally in love, appearances from other '00 liners, explicit language, swearing, mention of drugs, smoking and alcohol, getting high, ass slapping, dirty talk, big cock jaemin, soft dom jaemin, introverted, chill, emotionally intelligent, laid back, mysterious jaemin, jaemin with a darker side, a very sexy jaemin, black haired jaemin, jaemin who has no flaws

author note this chapter is heavily inspired by the friends episode ‘the one where everyone finds out’ keep that in mind! also a massive thank you to @siordior for her help with smut scenes and just a few scenes in general 🥰 she was a massive help.

1/6 of the campus heartbreaker series, read here

“This isn’t your bed.” Jaemin whispers, his voice a deep, resonant hum that sends vibrations against your skin, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth.

“Um– yeah. It’s Haerin’s. You reply, your consciousness surfacing slowly, pulling you out of the remnants of sleep. As sobriety dawns, fragments of the previous night cascade through your mind, each memory vivid and startling.

The shock of realizing that you, after firmly vowing to allow yourself to heal and to avoid intimacy with another man, had found yourself with Na Jaemin of all people, hits you like a wave. Yet, as you lie there, wrapped in his arms, a sense of comfort envelops you. Despite the surprise and the internal promises you’ve made, being here, in this embrace, just feels inexplicably right.

You remain naked and on top of him, cuddled within the circle of his arms with your head comfortably resting against his chest. Gently, he kisses your forehead. With a smooth motion, he turns the two of you around, his arms enveloping you protectively. He gives you a sweet smile, and there’s something in his eyes, in the way he looks at you, that makes you melt.

He gently removes his cock away from you inside of you. There’s a moment filled with heavy sighs and the soft sound of breathing, a testament to the intensity just shared. Your mouth waters as you see all the juices and all the sticky residue, you’re still so wet and Haerin’s bed sheets are stained. He’s got cum all over him and you’re sure you do too.

“Why do you let me fuck you on Haerin’s bed?” He inquires with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You respond with a casual shrug, “I couldn’t be bothered to take the extra steps. Besides, Haerin and Jeno have pretty much done it in every corner of my room.”

“Same here.” He chuckles. Changing the subject, he adds more thoughtfully, “Anyway, I need to get you cleaned up. I’m sorry I didn’t do it last night, you just fell asleep in seconds and my dick was still inside of you so—”

You nod, cheeks warm with a shy redness, murmuring, “Okay, yeah, thanks.” He steps away, promising to return soon. Alone, you gaze upwards, lost in the patterns above. In this quiet moment, you think about what you’ve just done and how you feel better than you would’ve thought.

You hear the sound of running water, signalling his return. He enters.

The sight of him takes your breath away. He’s naked and you truly can’t deal with the sight. He’s sexy. His cock looks insane and massive, you can’t believe it was inside you for the whole night. His shirtless form reveals a toned chest. The soft light plays across his skin, highlighting the contours of his physique. His strong shoulders and defined abs speak of strength, yet there’s a gentleness in the way he moves. You find yourself captivated, tracing the lines of his body with your eyes, feeling a warmth spread through you. The memory of your shared night makes your heart race.

He feels you staring and responds with a playful smirk. “Can you walk?”

You shake your head, your thighs still weak and your pussy still burning. Suddenly, he leans down and scoops you up in his arms, eliciting a surprised yelp from you.

“Let me put clothes on first!” You protest, feeling a bit shy in his embrace.

He chuckles lightly, “But we’re about to have a bath, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but –”

He cuts you off playfully. “You’re really shy about me seeing you naked when I pounded into your ass the whole night long, spanked you, spit in you and choked you?”

You blush, memories of the passionate night flooding back. As he carries you to the shower, you feel his strong grip on your ass and it is so tight. You could swear that his hand was gripping your ass in your sleep.

Gently, he sets you down in the warm bath, the water soothing against your skin. You look up at him, and for a second, the world pauses. There’s something in the way he looks at you, a tenderness in his eyes that makes your heart flutter. His kindness, so evident in his every action, overwhelms you.

You’re not sure what this emotion is, but it compels you. With a soft whine, you reach up, your hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him towards you. Your fingers find the cool metal of his chain, drawing him even closer. When your lips meet, it’s a fiery, passionate kiss, full of the emotions swirling within you both.

Sensing your desire, he joins you in the bath, the water rippling around you. You move to sit on his lap, facing him. You’re now close enough to see every detail in his face—the soft hue of his skin, a stark contrast against the dark hair that frames his features. His eyes, like pools of enigma, shadowed and deep, hold a glimmer of playfulness. His jawline is sharp, giving him a chiselled look.

There’s a comfort in his embrace, his arms encircling you gently, making you feel cherished and safe. The water laps quietly against you both but you smirk as you feel something prod against your thigh. “Really?” You question, his hardness makes you feel heat.

“Yeah.” He responds nonchalantly. “There’s a hot naked girl sitting on my thighs and you don’t think I’ll be hard?” He questions, his voice a low whisper as you shake your head and jab his chest, your cheeks burning into the pinkiest of shades

“Do you want me to wash your hair?” He offers in a voice soft as the steam around you.

“Please.” You reply, feeling the warmth of anticipation.

His fingers are tender as they brush through your hair, handling each strand with care and a precision that speaks of his attentiveness. You can’t resist teasing, “I bet I’m not the first girl’s hair you’ve washed.”

He just shakes his head, a knowing smirk on his lips, as he continues with his gentle ministrations.

Then, with a delicate touch, he begins to wash your skin, lathering it with scented body wash that fills the air with a fragrant blend. His hands move with purpose, massaging your joints, easing away any tension. Softly wiping away the residue inside your folds and on your thighs. His lips find your neck and cheek, kissing you softly, as sweet whispers escape him, blending with the steam and water.

After the bath, he wraps you in the softness of one of his shirts. The fabric smells of him, a captivating blend of woodsy and citrus notes. Standing there, you both exchange awkward glances, the air charged with the electricity of unspoken words.

The sides of his lips curve up in a smirk as he revels in the silence. “You wanna ride my cock again?” His voice is a low rumble, eyes searching yours for an answer.

“I should get going.” You reply, nearly choking on your words. “And you should too.”

“Thank you for tonight.” You say, a note of sincerity in your words. As he turns to leave, you suddenly grasp his hand, pulling him back. His eyes narrow in confusion just before you roughly push him away.

“Haerin, Hana and Jeno are home.” You whisper urgently, their loud voices echoing up the walls. “They cannot know about this. Do not make a noise.”

“Y/N!” Haerin’s voice cuts through the silence, her fists pounding on the door.

How did she know you were home? You press a finger to your lips, hoping silence will dispel her suspicion. Relief washes over you for the locked door, yet her knocking persists, each thud a hammer to your calm.

“Open up! I know you’re in here.” She insists.

You finally yield, opening the door to Haerin’s wide eyes, Jeno’s unusual silence, and Hana’s evident fatigue. “What the hell are you doing in my room? Did you sleep here all night?” Haerin’s eyebrow arches accusingly.

“I – um – yeah.” You admit, each syllable heavy with a truth you couldn’t cloak. Deception has never been your strong suit, especially not with them.

“Why?” She probes, her suspicion a tangible force that seemed to push the walls of the room closer.

“I missed you guys.”’ You manage to say, the lie smooth but tasting of ash on your tongue.

Hana’s eyes widen, a playful note to her voice as she coos. “Aw, did you masturbate?”

The question catches you off guard, and you nearly cough. “No?” Your answer is more of a question, an ineffectual attempt to deflect.

Her gaze sharpens, the intensity in her eyes almost accusatory. “You sure… you have that afterglow. Wait, holy shit did you fuck —”

Before she can finish, you cut in, a bit too sharply, “I spent the night alone, got myself off, okay?” The words are a barricade, hastily erected to keep their probing eyes from the truth.

“In my bed?” Haerin’s frown deepens, her scepticism a heavy cloak around her shoulders.

“I was drunk…” Your defense is a whisper, dissolving like mist in the growing light.

Jeno’s voice, unexpectedly, cuts through. “It smells like Jaemin in here. Isn’t that his shirt?” His observation is astute, his smirk a silent challenge to your crumbling façade.

Your heart stutters, racing to keep up with the lies. “He gave it to me at the party after I spilled a drink,” you say, hoping the half-truth is convincing.

“Hmm, sure.” Jeno drawls, unconvinced.

“And you have bruises on your legs.” Haerin adds, her gaze slicing through your defenses like a blade.

“I fell in the shower.” You repeat, grateful that your hair covered the hickies he had left on your neck and chest.

They finally leave you alone a moment later. Their departure brings a reprieve, a moment to breathe. Jaemin’s smirk reappears, as if he knows the weight of the secret you both carry. His hands, warm and reassuring, cup your face. “Will I see you again?” He asks, his voice a low murmur filled with promise.

“Yeah.” You whisper, your smile a mix of complicity and hope. His kiss is a seal, passionate and deep—a silent vow that speaks of future encounters as he reluctantly parts from you.

Jaemin's smirk softens into a tender smile as he reaches out, his hands gently cradling your face. The contact is soft, his touch a soothing warmth against your skin, a silent promise of care.

The kiss concludes, leaving a lingering sense of longing as he steps back, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer. There's a silent exchange of emotion, a shared anticipation for what's to come. Then, with a final, soft look, he turns and walks away

SCENE 2

You find yourself at a bar for the night, ‘REPLAY127,’ commonly known as ‘127.’ It was a popular social hotspot for the students of Neo Tech University, who drank away all of their academic stress and relationship worries. It was always a scene with buzzed with chaos and drunk energy.

All of your friends are here and they’re all so loved up. There’s couples and love all around, smooching noises everywhere. Eric and Hana are in their own bubble. His arm around her as he whispers something into her ear, she lights up with a grin that speaks volumes about their feelings. You had thought their relationship was just a fling, but the depth of their connection is undeniable. You mentally remind yourself to check in with Hana later.

Xiaojun is unmistakably the player tonight, especially noticeable as he gets more drunk. Wandering around the bar, he’s openly flirting with girls and anyone willing to engage with him. His approach is direct and confident, marked by a clear intention to find someone’s bed to get in.

Your gaze shifts to Yangyang, Soobin, and Yeonjun, What’s going on with them? They’re all being overly affectionate with each other. Yeonjun was sitting in Soobins lap and making out with him and now he’s leaning over and making out with Yangyang as Soobin (you’re pretty sure) is fingering Yeonjun.

Nearby, Shotaro and Chaewon are holding hands, an unexpected sight. Wonbin, sitting by himself, nurses his drink with a solemn expression. His distant gaze and the tight grip on his glass indicate he’s not in the best of moods.

In one corner, Haerin is engrossed in her assignments, her fingers flying over the laptop keyboard, ignoring everything and everyone around her. Her manager keeps complaining about her to anyone who will listen. (yeah, she works here) According to Taeyong, “she’s lazy, doesn’t turn up on time, doesn’t know what she’s doing, makes a mess of everything” Haerin’s only response is a dismissive gesture in his direction and Jeno just stays by her side, smirking and drinking. He’s just happy to be here.

At least there’s Donghyuck, someone who can join you in the lonely hearts club. In stark contrast to the love around, he’s the loner of your group. He sits by himself, lost in his thoughts, with a joint in hand. He’s silent, a lone figure amidst the bustling energy of the bar.

Well you and Donghyuck aren’t completely alone in the lonely hearts club, there’s a third member, Jaemin.

Captured in the understated glow of the bar’s ambiance, he exudes a quiet magnetism. His hair, tousled to a perfect degree, frames a face that carries an expression of both concentration and alluring detachment. Sharp jawline and high cheekbones give his face a sculptural quality, softened only by the slight pout of his lips. His eyes, pensive and deep-set, seem to hold volumes of untold stories, inviting a second glance to unravel their mysteries. His hotness is not loud but lingering, like a whispered secret.

He’s sitting across from you, wearing that fucking grin, It’s subtle, just a slight upward curve of his lips, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. His eyes hold a mischievous gleam, amused as he’s fingering you under the table.

It started off fairly innocent. His hand ventures under your skirt, a light brush at first. His fingers start to explore, tenderly caressing your thighs, occasionally squeezing gently. The cold metal of his rings creates a delightful contrast against the warmth of your skin, sending tingles up your spine.

You can’t help but smile back at him. The pretty little skirt you chose now feels like a perfect decision, especially seeing the way his eyes lit up when you first joined the table. His gaze was intense, filled with a dark passion that left you wondering about his thoughts, about what he might do to you next, about the unspoken promises lingering in his deep, enigmatic eyes.

Suddenly his fingers glide into your clit. It’s done so subtly, so casually, it’s almost imperceptible. His face remains nonchalant, perfectly composed. He’s fully engaged in the conversation around the table, acting as if he’s not finger fucking you.

Your walls tighten around him and you clench but his expression still remains unchanged, all he does is raise his eyebrow at you. It’s not fast at all, he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he rubs in small circles. His eyes, intense and captivating, hold your gaze. It’s hard to look away; his presence is magnetic, drawing you in despite your attempts to focus elsewhere.

Just when you feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, he abruptly stops, pulling his hand back. His eyes never leave yours, and there’s a hint of mystery in them. In a bold yet quiet gesture, he brings his finger, which are covered in your cum, to his lips and he licks them.

Your back arches slightly and your eyes roll back, you cannot believe how incredibly sexy this is. Caught off guard, a soft and involuntary moan escapes your lips, louder than intended. The noise momentarily attracts the attention of your friends at the table, and you feel a rush of heat to your cheeks, embarrassed but also exhilarated by the boldness of it all.

An immediate silence follows. Your friends' eyes are wide, filled with concern, as they all turn to look at you. All except for Jeno, who sports a proud smile, a reaction you find oddly out of place in the moment and wish you didn’t overlook it.

"Someone fuck my girl right now.” Haerin declares emphatically. Xiaojun volunteers without hesitation, nodding with a confident grin, rubbing his bulge and leaning up from the table, his hand held high.

You let out a laugh and shake your head at Xiaojun, the sound bright and clear against the quiet of the moment. As the laughter fades, you suddenly become aware of Jaemin’s gaze fixed on you, intense and singular. It washes over you like a spotlight, turning your laughter into a shy retreat. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks and you instinctively try to hide it, looking down to escape the weight of his stare.

You glance away, seeking solace in the familiar faces around the table, but the heat of his gaze lingers, a silent echo of the connection you're both aware of. With a self-conscious smile, you gather your things, the laughter still hanging in the air as you stand.

“I’m gonna head out.” You announce to your friends, feeling the weight of the evening’s events.

“You’re not even drunk.” Hana whines, her words slurred from the alcohol. She’s visibly wasted, her usual vibrant energy replaced by a drunken lull. “If you go, I go.” She adds, trying to steady her speech.

You pause, contemplating staying a bit longer. Hana’s state makes you hesitant to leave; ensuring she gets home safely is important to you. As you weigh your options, Eric steps in, he shakes his head with a soft, understanding smile. “It’s okay, I’ve got her.” He assures you as he wraps his arms around Hana, pulling her close. He plants a gentle kiss on her forehead, a gesture full of affection and responsibility.

You can’t help but smile at the scene, a sense of relief washing over you. With Eric there, you know Hana is in good hands, her drunkenness safely managed. It’s comforting to see how well he takes care of her, a testament to the depth of their connection. With that assurance, you feel at ease to leave, knowing your friend is safe and cared for.

"I'll drive you.” Xiaojun offers first, flashing a smile in your direction.

"You can't even drive.” Yangyang retorts, casting a doubtful look at him.

Xiaojun scratches his neck, seemingly questioning his own state. How high was he? The conversation, however, takes a swift turn as Jaemin stands up. His gaze locks with yours, intense and unwavering, sending an unexpected shiver through you. "It's fine, I got you.” He says confidently.

The silence that travels around the table is palpable. “I got it.” He claims he meant.

But Xiaojun persists only for Jaemin to shake his head. “Bro, it's fine, keep trying to fuck Yunjin.” He says with a chuckle.

"It's just a 5-minute walk, I can go myself –" You start to protest, but the chorus of objections from your friends drowns you out.

They all yell at you, so many voices rise in unison, effectively cutting off your protests. Jeno bluntly tells you to stop talking, while Xiaojun calls you an idiot for even considering walking alone so late. Donghyuck, who usually maintains a ghostly silence, surprises you by chiming in with a disapproving tut and a sharp remark, moving out of his seat to flick your forehead with his finger. You wince, holding the area with a pout. Your eyes widen in surprise at their unanimous concern. Realizing there's no winning this argument, you accept their decision with a resigned sigh.

You widen your eyes and huff, admitting defeat, you see no point in arguing further. Jaemin is smirking at the sight of you, his gaze briefly dropping to your legs. You notice the way his eyes linger there, he smirks at the cum that drips down your thighs, you’re sighing at his touch.

Resigned to the fact that Jaemin will be escorting you, you gather your belongings, ready to leave the warmth and noise of the bar for the quiet of the night, accompanied by someone who seems to stir a myriad of emotions within you.

As Jaemin’s hand brushes against your back, a shiver runs through you, and your breath hitches in response. His voice, a low and deep whisper close to your ear, is barely audible over the din of the bar. “I’m bringing the car, stay at the front.” He instructed quietly.

You nod subtly, and as you turn to leave, you catch Hana’s eyes briefly peeking up, but she’s too caught up in her own world to give it much thought. A wave of relief washes over you, grateful that your friends, immersed in their own drunken revelries, haven’t noticed the discreet exchanges between you and Jaemin.

Standing near the entrance, you wait, lost in your thoughts about the night and the subtle interactions with Jaemin. Suddenly, you’re brought back to the present as Haerin and Jeno approach. Haerin, with a bright, infectious smile, latches onto your arm in a friendly embrace.

"Me and Jeno are going to that rooftop sushi restaurant." She announces. "Come with us!!!" She urges, her enthusiasm evident.

"No…" You shake your head immediately, already having made up your mind. "I’m going home, Jaemin’s gonna drive me.”

"Just come!!!" The plea comes again, more insistent this time.

You turn to them, opting for honesty. "I don’t like hanging out with you guys. Last time, you both just sat munching on each other while I was there just munching on my sushi.” You explain with a light-hearted tone, trying to convey your point without sounding too harsh. Your words are met with a mix of laughter and mock offense, but they convey your desire for a quiet end to the evening.

"Come on, baby.” Jeno whispers softly, extending his hand to Haerin. They start heading towards the exit, their exit unhindered even as Haerin’s manager, Taeyong, calls out to her. He scolds her, reminding her that her shift isn't over, his tone stern and warning. Taeyong even goes as far as to mention that this could be her last chance before he considers firing her. But Haerin and Jeno don’t seem deterred; they continue on their way, leaving Taeyong's warnings behind.

You wave goodbye to them, a small smile on your face, but then they abruptly stop and turn back towards you. Confusion furrows your brow as you narrow your eyes, trying to figure out what's going on. It takes you a moment, but then it dawns on you why they've stopped.

“Y/N.” Comes the voice, unmistakably his.

The moment you hear it, your heart skips a beat, then seems to stop altogether. It’s a voice that, despite time and distance, still holds power over you, a power that unsettles the very core of your being. Time feels like it grinds to a halt, each second stretching out interminably.

You turn, feeling a wave of anxiety surging through you. His eyes meet yours, and there's an unmistakable cockiness in his gaze, a stark contrast to the sadness that fills your own. He looks at you with an air of overconfidence, as if the past, with all its pain and turmoil he caused, was just a trivial chapter in his life.

As he looks into your eyes, you feel an overwhelming sense of vulnerability, as if his gaze alone has the power to make you feel small and insignificant. There, with him, are Yeeun, Yeji, and Mia, a sight that leaves you baffled and reeling.

What strikes you most is the casualness with which Mia kisses his neck, right there in front of you, as he maintains eye contact. The sight of hickies marking his skin only adds to the surreal nature of the encounter. "How have you been?" He asks with a smile that, despite everything, still manages to stir the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

Words fail you, your throat dry and constricted. Inside, you're grappling with a whirlwind of emotions - disbelief, hurt, confusion. It's hard to focus, hard to think straight, your breath shallow and your head spinning. The situation feels unreal, almost dreamlike in its absurdity.

"Have you missed me? Do you wanna stay with us tonight? We’re gonna drink and then –" Hyunjin continues, smiling as if oblivious to the impact of his words. Your mouth falls open in shock. How could he be so nonchalant, so insensitive? He's surrounded by three girls and he’s asking you this? You feel sick as you see his arm casually draped around Mia's waist, while Yeji continues to be affectionate with him.

You glance at Yeeun and notice she’s keeping her distance, her expression unreadable. The complexity of the situation, the brazenness of his invitation, and the hurt it evokes in you, all combine to leave you feeling sick to your stomach. It's a moment that starkly highlights the difference between your worlds now - his, seemingly carefree and indulgent; yours, weighed down by the remnants of a past that refuses to fully let go.

Instinctively, you turn around and almost jump when you see Jaemin. He arrived quietly, almost blending into the background, his presence as subtle as a shadow. You wonder how and when he got there. His eyes are only fixed in one direction.

Yeeun and Jaemin are locked in an intense gaze, their eyes communicating a storm of unspoken words and emotions. It's a connection so deep and palpable that it makes you feel like an outsider, intruding on a private moment. The intensity in Jaemin's eyes is still and profound, conveying a depth of shared history and understanding with Yeeun that is foreign to you.

Hyunjin's voice pulls you back, "Baby? Is that a yes? I know you missed it. Remember when we were together, we’d have more sex than everyone, we’d have more threesomes than -'' His words are crude, stirring a mix of anger and hurt within you.

"Don't you fucking dare.” You whisper, barely audible. Your voice is a mix of defiance and vulnerability, and you're not even sure he heard you.

Why do you feel this urge to nod in agreement, to say yes, to gravitate towards him despite the fact you know he’s gonna break your heart again? It’s a stark reminder of the complex, tangled feelings you still harbour for him. This internal struggle is a vivid reflection of how deeply you’ve been affected, how the remnants of what once was still hold a powerful sway over you. It’s frustrating and confusing, this pull towards someone who has caused you so much pain.

In a swift, protective gesture, Jeno steps forward, positioning himself between you and Hyunjin. He reaches out, his touch firm yet reassuring on your arm, as he gently pulls you behind him, ensuring you're out of harm's way. Then, with equal care, he tightens his grip on Haerin's hand, guiding her to stand behind him as well, forming a human shield with his body.

"What the fuck?" Jeno's voice cuts through the tension, his words loud and filled with genuine readiness to confront Hyunjin. "I’m gonna count to 10 and then –" He warns, his tone indicating he's serious and prepared to escalate if needed.

Hyunjin, however, just laughs in response, seemingly unfazed by Jeno's protective stance or his threats. The laughter is dismissive, a clear sign that Jeno's words aren't intimidating him or causing him to reconsider his actions. "Y/N –" Hyunjin calls out again, extending his arms towards you, as if expecting you to come to him willingly.

However before you can even think, Jaemin steps forward and his arm wraps around your back with a surprising gentleness. There's an immediate sense of security that envelops you. Your previously racing heartbeat begins to steady, syncing with the calm assurance emanating from him. When you look into his eyes, there's a depth of trust and understanding reflected back at you, a silent promise that he's there for you.

Your breathing, which had been shallow and uneven, gradually relaxes. The tension that had gripped you slowly ebbs away, replaced by a comforting ease. A soft smile forms on both your faces, a shared moment of relief and connection amidst the chaos. You find yourself naturally leaning into him, drawn by the warmth and safety of his presence. The eye contact between you is intense yet intimate.

But it's unexpected – this protective side of Jaemin, especially towards you. The intensity in his gaze as he stares down Hyunjin is unmistakable, and there's something undeniably compelling about it. It's as if in this moment, he's shedding layers of his usual composure, revealing a fiercer, more protective side that you hadn’t seen before.

"Come on, Y/N, let's go.” Jaemin says, his voice steady and resolute. His eyes lock onto yours, a silent assurance in their depths, as he takes your hand in his. With a gentle but firm grip, he guides you away, deliberately turning both of your backs to Hyunjin, dismissing him without a word.

In this simple action, Jaemin makes a statement – he's not interested in giving Hyunjin any more attention or power in this situation. His focus is solely on you, ensuring your well-being and comfort.

SCENE 3

You shuffle in his lap, finding a comfortable position with your legs on either side. His hands rest gently on your thighs. Your lips meet his in a soft, tender kiss. As the kiss continues, it grows in intensity, each of you responding to the other’s rhythm. Your breathing becomes heavier. Open mouthed kisses which are a mix of tenderness and a growing sense of urgency.

The kiss deepens, a messy exploration of each other's tongues that leaves you panting and wanting more. You can hear the soft click as he locks the car, ensuring your privacy and safety. He then adjusts his seat back slightly, creating more space for you both.

"Just wanna get high and fuck you.” You murmur, the words muffled against his lips. Both of you speak between kisses, your words interspersed with passionate, eager kisses that convey your impatience.

He smirks in response, a playful glint in his eyes. "So desperate for me, baby? Couldn't wait five minutes until we were in the house?" His tone teases, laced with affection. His kisses trailing down to your neck.

The second you sat in the car, you were so incredibly horny. You were pressing soft kisses to his neck and whispering to him about how sexy he was and how much he turned you on. The only appropriate reaction after Jaemin’s display in front of Hyunjin. All he did was chuckle and tell you to be patient.

You obviously weren't patient as now you’re gonna ride his cock in the car.

He’s got a condom now.

Your eyes widen and you pout. “It felt good when we fucked without it.”

He just laughs and shakes his head, putting it over his cock.

“You know I literally don’t get pregnant, me and Hyunjin – well you know, we used to do it without protection all the time.” You ramble and he sighs, smashing his lips against yours, quite literally kissing you to get you to shut up. His hands find their way underneath your skirt and he’s rubbing your thighs in small circles.

With a heavy moan, you sit down on his cock and begin fucking yourself on his cock, you begin a steady rise and fall, his hands tight on your hips which guides you. You’re pressed against his chest, your lip biting and eyes screwing in pleasure as you move up and down his cock, pretty noises spilling from your mouth.

You quite simply fuck yourself dumb on his cock. you ride him at such a rapid and fast pace, it has him in awe. Heavy breathing and moans fill the car, his mouth is wide open as he admires the view above him. your screwing your face in pleasure, the steady rise and fall on his cock, how tight your pussy feels. It's driving him crazy.

"Ahhh, fuck, feels - feels soooo good," you pant in Jaemin's ear, your voice laced with pleasure as he continues to drive you wild with desire.

His cock reaches a spot that makes you whine, his cock driving deeper and deeper inside your walls. “You’re so fucking tight.” He hisses in your ear, teeth gritted and eyes screwing in pleasure

You start getting tired, your body becoming heavy with desire as Jaemin continues his sensual assault. Your legs feel weak, and you begin to lose the strength to hold yourself up. Sensing your fatigue, he continues, he doesn't want to stop. He shifts his position slightly, taking more of your weight, and begins thrusting into you with even more determination.

“Baby, you were so eager to ride my cock, and now you can't even ride it properly?" he teases in a husky voice, his fingers digging into your hips as he continues his relentless pace, his voice dripping with desire.

SCENE 4, STUDYING, COCKWARMING + OPENING UP

You find yourself sitting on his cock, a lot.

Jaemin tends to always be buried in his university assignments and projects, his attention riveted to the screen, seemingly oblivious to the world around him, to you. You, craving his attention, couldn’t help but voice your dissatisfaction, a whine escaping you about his apparent neglect.

“Sit on my lap.” He suggested, without looking up from his work, his voice calm yet firm, a surprising solution to your complaint.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with a mix of surprise and shyness. It was an unexpected invitation, one that caught you off guard. Yet, he didn’t waver, repeating himself more clearly, his voice taking on an irresistibly attractive and sexy edge, “Come and sit on my lap then. Don’t just sit there being needy, do something about it.”

His words sent a thrill through you, a mix of anticipation and excitement. You found yourself biting your bottom lip, a smile creeping onto your face despite the fluttering in your stomach. With a casual ease, he pushed his chair back further with his feet, creating space, and patted his lap as a clear invitation.

Standing up, you prepared to close the distance between you but as you took a step forward, your breath hitched audibly. Jaemin began to unbuckle his belt and unbutton a few buttons from his shirt. It froze you in your tracks. His eyes, intense and unwavering, never left yours, their depth pulling you in, making you squirm under his gaze. There you stood, momentarily paralyzed by the intensity of the moment, He smirks up at you, knowing and slightly teasing.

His cock is literally out, he’s running his hands up and down the length and he’s smiling at you so prettily, you hold the eye contact and give him a shy smile but when you look down, you see a monster length staring at you so the contrast slaps you in the face like whiplash.

"Sit down then, pretty girl.” He urged softly, almost whispering, his words imbued with an affectionate warmth that made your heart flutter.

You nod slowly, anticipation bubbling within as Jaemin's hands find their way to the delicate skin under your skirt, you let out a small whimper when he grips your hips gently yet securely. He pulls your underwear down slightly and then carefully pulls you closer, situating you on his cock.

You don’t know what this was but you didn’t expect this, to be sitting on him, on his cock, just staying still, there was no movement, just the warmth of being close. Your walls just sucked his cock in and it was such a tight, warm fit.

His focus returned to his studies, but now with hums of concentration and satisfaction. You sitting there on his cock, so prettily, clearly helped him with his work

As you watch Jaemin type away, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration, you're struck by the captivating intensity of his focus. He's the epitome of handsome, with sharp, defined features that are softened by the gentle curve of his lips, concentrated into a line of determination. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, now reflect the deep pools of his thoughts, flickering under long, dark lashes with every word he commits to the screen. The way his hair falls slightly over his forehead, just a bit tousled, adds a boyish charm to his otherwise structured appearance. The ambient light casts shadows that accentuate his strong jawline and the thoughtful crease between his brows, making him look like he’s been carved from marble, yet animated with the warm flush of life.

That’s when it dawns on you; despite the time you've spent together, there’s so much you don’t know about him. The basics, like what he studies, his favourite color, his favourite tv show. Sure, you knew his favourite sex position and kinks but that was completely different. You didn’t know him on a personal level.

He notices your intense gaze, the way your eyes are fixed on his features, not missing a single detail. There's a flicker of something in his eyes, a mixture of amusement and curiosity, as he meets your stare. It's as if he's inviting you to look deeper, beyond the surface, to discover the layers that make up who he truly is.

“You want something, baby?” You feel his voice vibrate against your chest, a low hum that makes you make the smallest movement on his cock but he just groan and shakes his head at you, his hands gripping your thighs and making you stay still.

Your hands play with his earrings, signalling your growing curiosity. "I’m just curious… about you.” You admit, looking for a deeper connection.

He laughs softly, open and encouraging. "Yeah? What do you wanna know?"

“What’s your major?” You start off, realising how crazy this sounds, you spend your days getting your back blown by him but you don’t even know what he studies. He's always engrossed in his university work so you assume he’s a dedicated and top student.

He looks away from his work to focus on you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I’m doing a double major, criminology and fine arts. It’s more photography-based, but it's a lot more complex than just that." His explanation flows effortlessly, a clear indication of his passion. "I've always been fascinated by criminology, the complexity of it, and the deeper understanding it offers. It’s a field where I can communicate the way I want to, I don’t need to talk much, it’s all mostly through visuals. A photo says a thousand words, right?"

His eyes light up with the mention of his work, reflecting a depth you're eager to explore. "This degree teaches me to notice the overlooked details, to create something that might challenge perceptions or bring new insights. I want to make a difference, especially in the criminal justice world."

His passion is palpable, and you find yourself drawn in by his dedication. "Combining criminology with fine arts isn’t common, but that uniqueness is what I think can be my strength." His voice carries a confidence that only adds to his allure.

"There’s a certain beauty in understanding the complexities of crime and human behaviour, and even more so in capturing the emotions and stories behind them through art. I want to find and share that beauty."

You can’t help it. you moan. There's just something so sexy hearing about a man so dedicated to his interests, so complex and multifaceted. Seeing his passions and dedications made you understand him more, or atleast feel like you understand him more.

You realize how perfectly his degree mirrors his personality: mysterious, intellectually deep, and emotionally intelligent. His artistic pursuits show a creative soul that sees the world through a unique lens, combining a sensitivity and appreciation for beauty with a bold, unconventional approach to his studies. This blend of social awareness, empathy, and deep thinking not only makes him fascinating but deeply attractive.

Listening to him, you understand that Jaemin is not just another student; he's someone who truly wants to leave a mark on the world, using his unique perspective and talents. His confidence and individuality shine through, making you admire him all the more.

He’s a captivating blend of social awareness and empathy, driven by a deep concern for societal issues. His studies reflect a profound desire to understand and improve the world, grounding him in compassion and thoughtfulness. As a reflective and insightful thinker, he engages in intellectually stimulating conversations, showcasing his subtle boldness and confidence. Unafraid to deviate from traditional academic paths, Jaemin's unique approach and individuality make him irresistibly appealing.

As you absorb the depth and breadth of Jaemin's ambitions, a spontaneous sound escapes you, a moan of admiration and something more, something deeper. His confusion is immediate, eyebrows arching in a silent question as he pauses, turning to face you fully. His voice, a deep and breathy lull, wraps around you like a warm blanket in the cool air of the room. "Why are you moaning?" He whispers, the words vibrating directly into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"You’re – you’re just really hot.” You confess, the words tumbling out in a blend of awe and sincerity. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You lean in to kiss his forehead, a gesture so intimate and tender, Jaemin reacts in a way that sends your heart soaring. His eyes close for a moment, savouring the touch, a soft, content sigh escaping him. When he opens them again, they're alight with a giddy, infectious smile, the kind that makes his whole face glow, the kind that's impossible not to return. His breathing, low and steady, syncs with yours, a harmonious rhythm that seems to pull you even closer together.

“You work hard. Well done.” Your words are an affirmation, a gentle reminder of the faith you have in his efforts and the future they’re building towards. This will become something of a personal mission for you—to always remind him that his dedication will be worth it. You’ve never been so close to someone so motivated, so deeply attuned to their aspirations.

“This is why I'm being so good, just letting you study without distracting you. I've been a good girl and just sat here, on your cock, without moving when all I wanna do is ride your cock. you can feel how wet I am, right?”

He tuts. “I don't call bouncing up and down being a ‘good girl?’”

You moan, smashing his lips against his. Your lips move with an urgency that speaks volumes of pent-up desire. He kisses you back with intensity, punctuated by the soft sounds of mutual moans that vibrate through the connection of mouths. Your hand finds its way into his hair, fingers tangling, pulling gently to bring him even closer, ensuring no space remains. His arms wrap securely around your waist, pulling you against him as you grind onto him, your hips making soft motions as your ass meets his thighs, his cock thrusting deeper and deeper into you.

THE ONE WHERE HE EATS YOU OUT

“Do you want me to eat you out, baby? You want me to take your stress away?” Before you can even answer he dives into you, sweet eyes looking up at you with a soft smile, pressing open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs before pulling you lace panties down.

He dove into your pussy, forcing your legs open, his tongue lapping at your pussy and your folds, sucking and licking all the wetness and juice with one long stripe. You moan out heavily, wrapping your legs around his neck and caging him there, your hands fisted in his hair.

He leaves mouthy and wet kisses on your clit, sucking and sucking on the skin and making you moan over and over. Your orgasm was coming close and you’re about to scream out his name but then you fucking hear the front door open.

Hana drops her bag upon seeing you, her eyes widening in surprise. You realise there's no time to hide the situation. Thankfully, she has no way of knowing it's Jaemin due to the way he's positioned and the sofa's arrangement. In a supportive and enthusiastic manner, Hana puts her thumb up to you and mouths her congratulations, seemingly unaware of the true situation

You find yourself wondering why she still stands there, a grin playing on her lips as she nods enthusiastically. Her eyes are fixed on you with a sense of pride that seems to radiate from her, a pride that's uniquely her own and difficult to put into words.

Jaemin, like the menace that he is, continues eating you out even though he’s aware there’s an audience. He’s lapping at your folds more roughly, biting and spitting on your pussy in hopes to make you scream his name, he’s trying to make you scream his name. His tongue delves deeper and deeper as he thrusts his fingers in and out. Your eyes roll back, his name was this close to slipping from your tongue.

Jaemin smirks at how you try to conceal your sounds. His breath was a whisper that sends shivers down your spine. His voice, barely above a murmur, resonates with a depth that you can hardly hear—you feel it, a tangible vibration against your skin. “If you were gonna end up silent anyway then we should've fucked infront of them.”

Jaemin startles you as he raises his head slightly. You quickly guide his head back down, but then he attempts to rise again, wearing a smirk. His eyes intensify with desire as he gazes up at you, giving you the slyest grin. Despite the slightly perverse and twisted nature of the situation, he finds pleasure in your heightened state of arousal due to his actions. Even though it's kind of sick and twisted he loves seeing you so scared because of his doing

THE ONE WHERE YOU’RE FUCKING ON THE BALCONY

You’re wearing the mini skirt, it’s slutty, it’s sexy.

It’s too slutty to be yours, it’s Haerin’s.

She beamed with a glow when you asked for her help, her eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and delight. Without hesitation, she dives into her closet and emerges with the boldest piece she owns—a mini skirt that's daring in every sense of the word. It's the kind of outfit that blurs the lines between outrageously sexy and boldly confident.

Your eyes widen at the sight of it. The material is sheer, leaving little to the imagination, a bold statement piece that's as see-through as it is alluring. Slipping it on, you can't help but marvel at the transformation. The skirt clings in all the right places, its risqué charm amplified by its translucency and the way it perfectly hugs your curves. It's a far cry from your usual style, but in this moment, it feels just right.

To match the daring vibe of the skirt, you opt for a top that's equally provocative. The ensemble comes together in a daring display of confidence, each piece complementing the other to create a look that's undeniably hot. Your makeup and hair are styled to perfection, each detail adding to the allure of the outfit.

Thoughts of Jaemin flutter through your mind, sending waves of giddy anticipation coursing through you. You hope he’ll find you pretty. As you give yourself one final look in the mirror, confidence surges within you.

Jeno's arrival to pick up you and Haerin was expected, but Jaemin's presence alongside him was a pleasant surprise that sent a jolt of excitement through you.

The moment Haerin and Jeno greeted each other with a kiss, a sense of awkwardness washed over you. You stood slightly apart, an observer to their easy display of affection, feeling a mix of happiness for them and a silent yearning for a similar connection with Jaemin. Your situation with him was a closely guarded secret, one that you weren't ready to unveil.

As you felt the pull towards Jaemin, something shifted within you. With a newfound boldness, you clasped your hands together and rest them by your side, a gesture of anticipation, and subtly leaned his way. Your head tilted, a silent invitation, as your lips curved into a smile, a confident and alluring display.

As Jaemin's gaze intensely sweeps over you, a wave of heat rushes through your body, so palpable that the two of you almost moan out loud. The tension between you both was electric, you’re so happy Haerin and Jeno are too absorbed in each other to notice.

His eyes, dark and focused, scrutinize every detail with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. You catch him biting his bottom lip, a silent yet unmistakable sign of his approval, as he takes in the sight of you. The outfit you've chosen for the evening accentuates your figure perfectly, hugging you in just the right places to showcase your curves in the most flattering light.

Suddenly, Jeno's attention shifts towards you, breaking the electric tension. With an enthusiastic whistle, he grabs your hand, lifting it above your head to spin you around in a playful showcase. "Look at you.” He smiles, his voice filled with a mix of pride and admiration, the pitch of his whistle echoing his excitement. He's always been your biggest supporter, and tonight is no exception.

Meanwhile, Jaemin remains a silent observer, his expression unreadable yet intensely focused on you. Despite his quiet, his eyes communicate volumes, locked on your form with a clarity that's both thrilling and a little intimidating. His nonchalant demeanor contrasts sharply with the keen interest evident in his gaze.

Jeno drives back to his house which marks the start of an interesting evening.

Jeno's backyard was buzzing with life, lit up by string lights that added a cozy glow to the evening. It was the perfect spot for a barbecue, with everyone gathered around, enjoying the inviting green space. The smell of food on the grill filled the air, hinting at the fun and laughter that was to come.

In one corner, Hana and Eric had cocooned themselves into a couple's chair, their world reduced to the space between them as they shared kisses, seemingly oblivious to the buzz around them. Donghyuck, on the other hand, embraced solitude on the outskirts, content with his crisps, his presence a quiet testament to the diversity of the group's dynamics. Meanwhile, Shotaro and Wonbin, having recently bridged the gap of a misunderstanding, were lost in their own bubble, their laughter and shared glances lighting up the space around them.

Near the grill, stood Jeno and Jaemin, they were cooking all the meat. You watched, perhaps for the first time with true attention, as their interaction unfolded—a symphony of small laughs, shared tasks, and an easy silence that spoke volumes of their bond. The way they moved together, anticipating each other's needs and sharing the workload with an unspoken understanding, was evidence enough of the deep-rooted friendship they shared. The small, almost imperceptible exchanges—a nod here, a chuckle there, the passing of a spatula or a beer without a word — seeing their bond warmed your heart. They did truly love each other.

While Haerin and you engaged in gossip, standing across from Jeno and Jaemin, an attempt to help with the barbecue was dismissed by Jeno, he just told you both to go, citing he didn't want his garden to catch fire.

You’re being slutty on purpose. You boobs were out. You bend down intentionally in front of him, which drew a sigh from him. He tried to brush it off as a reaction to accidentally burning his hand on the grill, which actually did happen, a mishap resulting from his distraction by you rather than the task at hand. Jeno, his fucking nurse, quickly stepped in to care for him, wrapping the wound and even kissing his palm in a comforting gesture. He rolls his eyes and Haerin brings her palm out and expects him to do the same for her even though she wasn’t hurt.

The food is ready, and as everyone gathers around, you can't help but admire Jeno's attentiveness. With a careful diligence, he ensures that everyone is served before even thinking of his own plate. He moves among you, distributing plates and customizing each serving according to personal preferences. When he reaches you, there's a soft pat on your head and a smile that warms you from the inside out, especially when you see he's remembered exactly how you like your burger—with extra cheese and no gherkins. It's these small acts of care that make the moment special.

Jeno then turns his attention to Jaemin, who has been somewhat neglectful of his plate. He silently places a chicken wing directly into his mouth. Haerin, too, receives a tender moment of attention when she chokes on her burger. Jeno is quick to offer her water through a straw, pressing a kiss to her forehead in reassurance. Her embarrassment at the mess she's made is met with his gentle coo and shake of his head, assuring her of her beauty despite the sauce smeared around her mouth. He cleans it up with his thumb, a gesture so intimate and affectionate, followed by a soft kiss that seems to say everything words cannot.

You haven’t been drinking yet you feel high, euphoric. You’re completely sober and that’s the best part of it all. A few months ago you would’ve never thought you’d reach such happiness without being drunk but here you are, with your best friend, smiling until your cheeks ache.

The joy that fills you is genuine, a kind of happiness that’s both new and exhilarating. Despite not having touched a drop of alcohol, you find yourself riding a wave of euphoria, the kind that only true contentment can bring. It’s a realisation that hits you with the force of a revelation—once, the thought of achieving such a state of bliss without the aid of drinks would have seemed impossible. Yet, here you are, basking in the warmth of genuine happiness, sharing moments of laughter and connection with your best friend. The smiles that stretch across your faces, so wide that they make your cheeks ache, are a testament to the pure, unadulterated joy of the moment.

You an i’m d Haerin are dancing sexily, slut drops, touching each other closely, hands on tits, ass, giggling, you were kissing. You’re vaguely aware of the attention you’re attracting, particularly from Jeno and Jaemin.

Jaemin’s expression is hard to read, always enigmatic, giving nothing away. He watches with his usual cool, detached air, adding to his mysterious aura. Jeno’s gaze, on the other hand, is intense, you’re not sure whether he wanted to join in or punish you, leaving you guessing about his thoughts.

He clearly makes up his mind as suddenly, he comes along and the three of you are dancing closely, they’re both so wasted, that’s why the three of you grind on each other, hands touching all places, hot breath fanning over each other’s faces, you’re sure Jeno was slapping both of your asses at one point.

The atmosphere is a bit surreal, and you can't help but wonder how you've found yourself in this situation. Jeno, surprisingly, is dividing his attention between you and Haerin, and it's an unexpected turn of events. He starts by placing his hands on both of your shoulders, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

Slowly, he pivots Haerin around and lets his hands glide down to her hips, making sure you can still feel his touch as he pulls her closer to him. The sensation is electrifying, and you're not sure where this is leading. Then, with a playful assertiveness, he gives her ass a cheeky slap.

Before you know it, Jeno positions himself between both of you, sandwiched between you and Haerin, letting the two of you grind into him. She's right in front of him, arching her neck as he leaves open mouthed kisses, not completely neglecting you though, his fingers move to caress your thighs.

Passions ignite in the room as tongues entwine and hands explore. You sensually slide your hand down Jeno's body, your fingers dancing down to his crotch. The chemistry is palpable, and you can't help but feel your own heart racing.

Haerin and you share a passionate kiss while Jeno moans in pleasure, his eyes locked on the erotic display before him. His hand rubs his bulge through his pants, and the intensity in the room continues to build.

Jeno's desire reaches its peak as he tightly fists your hair, pulling you back roughly to grant him access to Haerin's eager lips. Their mouths collide, exchanging a torrent of saliva and heated kisses. It's a frenzied scene filled with raw desire and longing.

But then, Haerin moves away from Jeno and turns her attention to you, planting sweet pecks on your lips, the two of you giggling and giving each other giddy eyes. The contrast between the intense passion and the soft, affectionate moments is a tantalizing blend of sensations that leaves you breathless.

You and Haerin had playfully shared your desires about making out with each other before, acknowledging each other's attractiveness, you both found each other hot! This moment feels different. It's serious and intense.

Now, you find yourselves on the couch, straddling each other. You’re on top, and your lips meet in a fiery, passionate kiss. The sensation of her tongue, soft lips, and electric chemistry between you leaves you captivated. You can understand why Jeno is so enamored with her.

But suddenly, you're yanked away, and Jeno takes your place. He grabs Haerin's neck harshly, eliciting a loud moan from her,, his kisses were passionate and forceful. Smooching noises fill the room as Jeno dominates the moment, leaning over and caging her against the plush cushions, his legs either side of her and he’s not holding back on being rough.

Haerin senses your hesitation and quickly pulls you onto Jeno's lap while still engaging in a heated make-out session with him. Together, they shower you with affection, covering you in passionate kisses and leaving hickeys on your skin. Jeno, driven by intense desire, unzips his pants, his length ready as he runs it through his hands.

Before Jeno can even do anything with his cock, the room is abruptly pierced by a voice that commands immediate attention. Jaemin, who until now had remained silent, suddenly asserts himself with a firm, "Not on this couch!!" His intervention is swift and decisive, drawing the eyes of everyone present.

Your gaze meets Jaemin, and the intensity you find in his eyes is startling. There's something about the way he looks at you—commanding, and undeniably attractive—that sends a thrill through you. The mixture of authority in his voice and the dark promise in his gaze stirs something deep within you, amplifying your already heightened arousal.

The realisation that Jaemin has been observing this whole time makes you moan. His attention, previously undetected, now feels like a spotlight. His gaze, heavy with an unspoken challenge, leaves you pondering his thoughts and the nature of his interest in the dynamics at play.

You decide to head to the bathroom to freshen up, trying to regain your composure. You smooth out your hair and touch up your makeup, attempting to collect your thoughts. But as you open the bathroom door, you're met with the dark and piercing gaze of Jaemin.

His expression isn't one of happiness. Instead, a certain intensity emanates from his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. The look in his eyes makes your insides throb with desire for him, overpowering any other thoughts. He had been on your mind all night, and now, being in such close proximity to him, your longing for Jaemin becomes undeniable and overwhelming. You only want him. The tension in the bathroom seems to escalate, the steaminess of the situation too palpable to ignore.

Your lips crash together in a searing, insatiable kiss, tongues tangling in a fervent dance. His hands roam your body, gripping and squeezing, while your nails dig into his back, pulling him impossibly closer.

With legs wrapped around his waist, you grind against each other, feeling his arousal hard and insistent against your core. Every touch, every bite, every growl against your lips sends shivers of pleasure down your spine.

Jaemin's mouth trails down your neck, nipping and sucking, marking you as his own, covering the marks that Haerin and Jeno had left on you and. Tutting in your ear, Jaemin's voice drips with desire and dominance. "Gonna act like a slut like that again, baby? Hm? You’ll see what I do to you." His words send shivers down your spine as he presses his body closer, asserting his control.

Your breaths grow heavy, matching the rhythm of your bodies moving against each other. His fingers find their way under your clothes, tracing lines of fire along your skin, making you gasp and moan. He’s spanking your ass as you moan into his mouth, the wetness between your thighs becoming palpable.

Locked in a heated gaze, your eyes reveal the raw hunger within. Bodies pressed together, the friction only intensifies the pulsating need between you. You feel consumed by a wild, untamed passion, surrendering to the magnetic pull of desire.

"Trying to flaunt your sweet pussy to everyone else?" Jaemin's voice oozes dark desire as he speaks close to your ear. He cages your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "Answer me."

You shake your head, your eyes wide, and your lips trembling with a whimper and a pout.

“I don't believe you."

Jaemin's intentions become unmistakably clear as he manhandles you, forcefully guiding you until you're pressed against the balcony railing. You glance around and realise that you're on the balcony overlooking the garden, he positions you exactly how he desires, and you surrender willingly to his commands.

Coming up behind you, he arches your neck and presses passionate kisses upon your skin, leaving a trail of fiery sensation in his wake. His desire is palpable, and the mask he's worn for so long begins to slip away, revealing the raw, passionate intensity beneath

Jaemin makes quick work of removing your clothes, his hand delivering sharp slaps to your ass in rapid succession. The mixture of pleasure and pain sends shivers down your spine.

"You want everyone to see what a fucking slut you are? Now they will.” He whispers in your ear, sending a thrilling jolt through your body. The audaciousness of this encounter only makes it more arousing, and you can't believe how turned on you are right now. Is he really this brazen? Fucking you in a place where you could easily be caught, even though your situationship is a secret?

That’s hot.

Your moan betrays your excitement, your body burning with desire as Jaemin's cock thrusts relentlessly into you. He's pounding you on the balcony, your front pressed against the railings, and he ensures your arms are held above your head without even having to use physical force. You remember his earlier warning: no moving allowed, and you obediently comply like the good girl you are, relishing your role as the willing submissive.

With one of your legs held up by Jaemin, you're pinned against the balcony's railings, your body entirely at his mercy. “Such a whore, acting like this all night in front of everyone.”

Jaemin revels in taking you from behind, the sight of your ass bouncing against his throbbing erection driving him wild. With one hand gripping your hair, he pulls your head back, arching your back sensually. The other hand firmly presses against your lower back, guiding you to meet his every thrust.

He forcefully drags your head forward, fistful of your hair in his grip as he forces you to position there, you hold back a moan as you see everyone in the garden downstairs, your friends are below you. All of them still in the garden and if they look up they'd see you and him fucking, they’ll see his hands that slap your titties and his dick plunging in and out of you.

“Doll, you have to stay quiet, you don't want our friends to know our little secret.” His voice, usually low and commanding, becomes a seductive whisper, sending shivers down your spine. There’s a hint of a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he savors the effect of his words on you.

Yet, despite the need for secrecy, Jaemin's primal desire overcomes any semblance of restraint. He thrusts into you even harder, igniting a fire of arousal that burns hotter with every passing moment. The walls of your body tighten around him as pleasure intensifies, and the possibility of being discovered fuels the urgency of your passionate connection.

You get off on the fact that you could be caught anytime, you and Jaemin love the thrill. As he whispers in your ear, urging you to make more noise, he maintains his firm grip on your throat.

As the intensity between you and Jaemin reaches its peak, he relentlessly continues, thrusting into you with a determination that over-stimulates your senses. Your ass bounces against his cock, creating a rhythm that leaves you utterly spent and breathless. He's fucking you with such intensity that it's as if he's driving you to the brink of euphoria, making you feel high from his touch alone.

With every plunge of his cock, your snug walls grip him tighter, as if unwilling to let go of the pleasure he provides. Jaemin's playful cooing adds an exhilarating layer to the experience, igniting a fiery passion within you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, accompanied by heavy moans and growls of raw desire, making it abundantly clear that this encounter is driven by an insatiable hunger for each other.

He continues to overstimulate you. He's driving you to the brink, making you feel intoxicated with desire. His cock plunges in and out, your cum dripping down your thighs and making a mess. With a hint of teasing in his voice, he asks. "Can't you take it?"

In the heat of the moment, you're completely absorbed, unaware that your friends below have fallen silent. Little do you know, they're fully aware of what's happening on the balcony, and their cheers of encouragement fill the air. Despite their enthusiasm, they remain oblivious to the identity of the mystery man who's fucking you, failing to connect the dots as you and Jaemin are the only ones missing from the gathering.

As your friends look up, Jaemin drags you inside and to the floor, and before they can see anything, he fucks you there instead. “Shut the fuck up, slut.” Jaemin slaps your ass as you squirt all over him

He holds you close, cooing softly in your ear as you come down from your high. His gentle kisses and tender touch help soothe you. He wipes away the remaining tears and ensures you're comfortable and clean.

Moments later, you make your way down to the garden, a slight flush on your cheeks. You enter with an air of casual composure, trying to act as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred. Both you and Jaemin make an effort to maintain your cool, not arriving together to avoid any unnecessary attention.

It's quite evident that you've had your back blown out, with the afterglow still lingering on you. As you walk in, the cheers from your friends greet you, and Haerin plants a friendly kiss on your cheek. Hana attempts to lead you three away for some girls' talk, but the guys are being insufferable. Their taunting and teasing know no bounds, with even Shotaro mimicking your moans, and Donghyuck giving you an overly friendly pat on the back.

Among the crowd, two individuals stand out for their unusual behaviour. Jaemin remains nonchalant and seemingly unbothered, standing away from the chaos as if he hadn't just fucked you dumb. You envy him, how is he standing there like nothing intense had happened just mere moments ago? You also can't help but be suspicious of Jeno. He's typically the one to lead the teasing, but instead, he gazes at you with a proud smirk that leaves you questioning his intentions.

The air is thick with curiosity as your friends huddle together, each one throwing out guesses about the mysterious man's identity. Among the murmurs, Shotaro speaks up—sweet, innocent Shotaro. You adore him, yet there's a part of you wishing for his silence in this moment.

"Hey, Jaemin disappeared when we heard Y/N up there.” He remarks, pointing out Jaemin's absence just as your fucking had begun. The room falls into a tense silence, anticipation hanging in the air as everyone seems on the cusp of laughter or teasing, their faces a mix of shock and amusement.

Your eyes dart to Jaemin, panic flickering within you. But Jaemin, ever composed, manages his emotions with a tight control. He never slips. He subtly shakes his head at you, a silent reassurance not to worry. His gaze then shifts to Jeno, exchanging a brief nod—a moment of silent communication that leaves you more baffled than ever.

Jeno, with his impeccable timing, chimes in, "Jaem couldn’t have been the guy; around that time, I sent him out to buy some more potatoes for those chips you guys gobbled up." It's a smooth save. Everyone seems to accept Jeno's explanation without hesitation. And truly, who wouldn't? He has always had a way with words, his ability to weave believable stories making him a convincing, smooth talker.

You let out a sigh of relief, though the knot in your stomach only tightens. You know it's only a matter of time before the truth might come out, and the thought sends waves of anxiety through you. For now, though, Jeno's quick thinking has steered the suspicion away, granting you a temporary reprieve from the spotlight.

THE ONE WHERE EVERYONE FINDS OUT (ONE)

“Is it Xiaojun?”

You shake your head, not paying much attention to the girls who are growing increasingly curious and persistent in their questioning. Instead, your focus remains fixed on your phone screen as you type away. It was Jaemin on the other end, if you weren’t being fucked by him then you were always sexting, you had become obbessed with each other.

“Who is it then?” Haerin’s voice carries a hint of frustration as she cries out, They’re so goddamn nosy. They’re trying to figure out who you’re seeing, clearly growing exasperated with your evasive responses.

They know you’re seeing someone as you’ve been caught several times but luckily they don’t know that it’s Jaemin. You’re intent on maintaining this privacy until you and Jaemin can figure out your situation. Staying discreet with Jaemin seems like the best course of action, avoiding drama and unwanted attention.

It’s your mistake to relish and sigh in their silence and accept it as peace. “Who’s fucking dick is that?????” Hana's voice escalates into a scream and Haerin's eyes nearly bulge out of its eye sockets, you realise that somehow, they've stumbled upon a photo of Jaemin on your phone, although his face wasn’t in it. It was his cock.

Haerin is full on moaning and asking you “how can you handle all that?”

So why is that photo on your phone? You had many photos of his cock on your phone but this particular one had an explanation. The truth is, Jaemin had sent you that photo while he was in a lecture, fully aware of your desires, and he decided to engage in some sexting to tease and please you. The real mistake was indulging in it while sitting on the same sofa as Haerin and Hana.

You let out a yelp in panic, blurting out, "I'm just looking at porn!" in an attempt to deflect their suspicions. However, Haerin and Hana remain skeptical, shaking their heads and exchanging knowing looks.

Hana wears a mischievous smile as she responds, "We will find out." It seems like they're not buying your excuse and are determined to get to the bottom of the situation.

THE ONE WHERE EVERYONE FINDS OUT (TWO)

Hana turns to Jeno, her face a canvas of confusion and suspicion. "Where the hell is Y/N?" she demands, expecting answers.

Jeno shrugs off the question with a casual "I dunno." Yeah he does. He knows that you’re getting your back blown out by Jaemin. He's known this whole time. He’s known since the very first time.

Hana, still in the dark and growing more perplexed by the minute, continues to probe. "She's being really suspicious, don't you think? She never hides anything from us, so why isn't she telling us who she's seeing?" She questions, her voice filled with confusion.

Jeno, attempting to divert the conversation, mumbles, "It's probably a social experiment.” His comment unexpectedly draws laughter from Hana, though she hadn't intended to find humor in the situation.

Just as Hana ponders Jeno's words, her attention is suddenly captured by a sight through the sliding doors that connect the outdoor garden to the kitchen. She waves frantically, trying to get someone's attention, and before she can even begin to question why you are here, in Jeno's house, without any apparent reason, she lets out a loud scream, her hands flying up to cover her face in shock. "Y/N and Jaemin? What are they doing? AHHHH! AHHHHHH!"

“My eyes… my eyes!!!!!” She screams, unable to believe her eyes.

"Jaemin and Y/N? Why is he touching her like that? What the HELL?" Hana exclaims, her voice rising in disbelief and shock.

"I know! I know!" Jeno repeats, trying to calm Hana down, mindful that Haerin is upstairs and oblivious to the unfolding drama.

"You know?" Hana shrieks, her voice piercing the air.

"Yes, I know! And now you know. Obviously, Jaemin and Y/N... but Haerin doesn't, neither does anyone else in the group, so please, you have to stop screaming." Jeno implores, his tone serious. "You need to keep this a secret. He adds, stressing the importance of discretion in this unexpected and delicate situation.

Hana, feeling a sense of urgency, breathes frantically and expresses her needs. “I need to tell Eric.”

Jeno, wanting to keep her calm, suggests. “Just pretend I’m Eric, I literally look like Eric.”

Hana nods in agreement and begins speaking as if she’s addressing Eric. Her confession takes an unexpected turn as she admits. “You do look like Eric, and it freaking creeps me out. Sometimes it makes me wanna make out with you.” Her voice drops to a low whisper, and she realizes too late that she’s voiced her thoughts aloud.

Jeno, raising his eyebrows in surprise, awkwardly coughs in response. Hana quickly regrets her words and mumbles, “Yeah, just forget I said that.” Jeno nods in agreement, and the two of them part ways.

THE ONE WHERE EVERYONE FINDS OUT (THREE, FIN)

Hana and Jeno share a smirk and shake their heads at the noise coming from upstairs. To them, you sound like a bitch in heat, you and Jaemin were so incredibly loud.

There's a moment of silence as Hana and Jeno exchange amused glances, reveling in the audacity of your and Jaemin's fucking. Then, Haerin enters through the front door, dropping a kiss on Jeno's forehead and bringing a bag of food just for herself.

Curious about your whereabouts, Haerin asks, "Where's Y/N?"

Jeno mumbles casually, leaning back in his seat. “You can’t hear her, baby? She’s upstairs, fucking Jaem.”

Hana, with her boba straw poised at her lips, widens her eyes in surprise and nearly chokes on her drink. “I thought it was a secret—”

Jeno, still with that nonchalant demeanour, interrupts her. “I’m sick of it.”

“Sick of them?” Hana questions, genuinely curious.

Jeno clarifies his annoyance, his tone filled with humor, “Sick of losing sleep because of them. Hopefully, now they can just get it on in public instead of when I’m trying to to go bed.”

Hana adds teasingly, “Please, don’t act as if you and Haerin, and Jaem and Y/N don’t have a competition to see who can be the loudest.”

Jeno retorts, a playful glint in his eye, “And you’re forgetting you and Eric? You two are the loudest!”

Hana and Jeno fall silent in their playful bickering when they hear the unmistakable sounds of screaming coming from upstairs. It's not just any scream; it's you and Haerin.

Hana chuckles and remarks, "Seems like Haerin is copying Y/N."

Jeno and Hana share a laugh as they make their way upstairs, curiosity piqued by the unexpected commotion unfolding in your room. The sight that greets them is nothing short of comical. Haerin lets out an audible scream, her disbelief apparent on her face.

You are equally shocked. Why is everyone in your room? You had a heart attack, Jaemin’s dick was plunging in and out of you and then suddenly the door opened with a loud scream. As your friends stare at you and Jaemin, you realize that there's no way to hide or explain the situation. The truth is out, and you can feel the weight of their gazes on you.

As Jeno gives Jaemin a kiss on the head, you finally connect the dots, a realisation dawning upon you. An epiphany hits you like a ton of bricks, and a light bulb goes off in your head. You jab Jaemin's chest, your voice incredulous as you exclaim. Jeno had known all along. It makes so much sense now.

"Jaem!! You told him!!"

Jaemin, taken aback by your accusation, hastily defends himself. "I swear I didn't!"

“I was the one who planted this idea in your heads and you thought I wouldn’t know?” Jeno smirks, an immense pride in him as he looks at the two of you.

(That wasn’t true though, Jaemin had told Jeno early on, just like he tells Jeno everything.)

Haerin's eyes light up, and she moves to the bed to hug you tightly in her arms, placing sloppy kisses on your head and Jaemin's. "So you're dating????" She squeals excitedly, clapping her hands. But suddenly, her enthusiasm dies down, replaced by confusion.

You and Jaemin choke on your words, shaking your heads and immediately denying it. Haerin's mouth widens in disbelief, and she struggles to find the right words. Hana steps in, voicing her confusion. "I don't get it? I thought you guys were — Jeno told me you guys were dating."

Jeno, not wanting to get involved, quickly defends his name. "I said nothing."

Hana and Haerin share a look that fills you with unease; their silence is unsettling. They suddenly leave the room, only to return a few moments later. You groan and palm your head when you see Haerin holding an 'intervention' banner in her hand.

THE INTERVENTION

You find yourself awkwardly seated in the center of the room, suddenly the focal point of everyone's attention. This unsolicited spotlight wasn't something you chose; rather, it's the result of an impromptu intervention masterminded by Hana. She, with a flair for drama, unveils a handmade sign that declares ‘intervention’ in bold, uneven letters. With a mix of persuasion and sheer force of will, she and Haerin manage to get Jaemin and Jeno to hang the sign, although it dangles crookedly above you.

Hana and Haerin stand before you, their arms crossed in an attempt to convey seriousness. You press your lips together, fighting the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, feeling a bizarre mix of annoyance and fondness for their concern.

"Do not laugh." Haerin commands, her voice sharp, it immediately makes your lips fall flat.

However, this facade quickly dissolves the moment your gaze locks with Jaemin’s. The curve of his eyes and the subtle smirk tugging at his lips are the triggers that unleash your laughter. The sound of your combined laughter echoes off the walls. Jaemin's expression is a perfect blend of amusement and complicity, his attractiveness magnified in the moment. He looks effortlessly handsome, his casual posture and the slight smirk playing on his lips adding to his allure.

Hana prepares to dive into the heart of the matter, her expression serious yet tinged with concern. She shakes her head and clears her throat, signaling the start of what promises to be an in-depth interrogation. “So, what is this?” She probes, her gaze shifting between you and Jaemin, accompanied with her hand moving back and forth.

“An intervention.” Jaemin responds unusually, he normally wouldn’t say a word but he catches on to your reaction and he realises it’s worth it. The room is filled with the sound of your laughter, and it’s the cutest thing Jaemin has heard in a while. Your laughter lights up the space, your mouth forming a beautiful smile as you giggle. The sweetness of the moment warms Jaemin’s heart, and he can’t help but cherish it. As he watches you, he can’t deny the growing affection he feels for you. He adores you more with each passing moment, silently falling for you in the most unexpected of times.

“We have too many interventions.” You say once your laughter has subsided but Hana and Haerin will not allow you to shift the focus once more.

“I’ll ask again, what are you guys?”

The room feels charged, the anticipation building. When neither of you responds immediately, Hana’s impatience shows with a disapproving tut. Deciding to cut to the chase, she bluntly asks, “Are you guys fucking?” Her directness catches you off guard and you suddenly start choking on your tongue.

Jaemin, ever the embodiment of calm under pressure, answers with his characteristic dry wit. “Obviously, did you not walk in on me pounding into her like 5 minutes ago?” His nonchalance is both infuriating and disarming.

Haerin, picking up where Hana left off, wears a hopeful smile, her eyes alight with curiosity. “So, you’re dating?” She ventures, her optimism palpable. Her eyes light up and she breaks out into a grin, a reaction you quite simply do not understand as she knows you’re not dating.

The question sends you and Jaemin into a fit of awkward chuckles, a symphony of refusals and denials echoing around the room, you’d keep denying it until they believed you. You try to convince, almost too vehemently, that dating isn’t on the cards. “Hold on.” You interject, laughter breaking through the tension. “Just because we’re fucking doesn’t mean we’re dating. Don’t be crazy.”

Your attempt at humour does little to appease Hana and Haerin. They both launch into a series of scolding and telling off, their words a mix of worry. They warn you that you’re being reckless in your actions and that heartache will follow. They plead you to think this through. Meanwhile, Jeno sits quietly to the side, observing the proceedings with a silent chuckle, his laid-back demeanour a stark contrast to the animated energy of Hana and Haerin.

"So, what are you guys? Friends with benefits?" Haerin asks, her hope running out. The question hangs in the air, prompting immediate reactions from both you and Jaemin. You both shake your heads quickly, clearly unsettled by the label. The very thought seems off-putting to you both.

"We were never even friends.” You clarify, laying down the stark reality of your relationship with Jaemin.

He softly added, "More like strangers with benefits.”

You shake your head, quick to counter. "No.” You say to him simply and plainly. You didn’t like the idea of only being of use to him for your body. Friends with benefits wasn’t something you ever wanted to engage in.

The room falls silent at Hana's next question, "So what are you?" Hana's question leaves you speechless, a silence enveloping you as the words hang heavily in the air. What are we? The thought echoes in your mind, a question without an easy answer. As you glance over at Jaemin, searching for any sign of clarity in his expression, you're met with the same uncertainty. The ambiguity of your relationship, undefined and unlabeled, looms large between you. It's confusing. You're both aware of the lack of clear communication between you, yet the good sex keeps bringing you back to each other.

Faced with Hana's probing gaze, you deflect, turning the spotlight back onto her. "What are you and Eric?" you ask, hoping to shift the focus away from the complexity of your situation. The question hangs between you, a momentary distraction from the undefined nature of your relationship with Jaemin.

“He’s my boyfriend.” She reveals nonchalantly, as if the declaration is the most natural thing in the world. You didn’t expect it, you had known that they’d gotten close but you didn’t expect them to actually label their love. This was the first time she had told you.

At her words, the room erupts into excitement. You and Haerin can’t contain your joy, squealing and rushing to embrace her. An unexpected wave of emotion washes over you, and you find yourself fighting back tears. The depth of your reaction surprises even you, but deep down, you understand its source. Hana is not just a friend; she’s your best friend, someone whose happiness means the world to you. Seeing her find joy and fulfilment in a relationship with Eric, someone who has been in love with her since childhood, fills you with an overwhelming sense of relief and contentment.

In the midst of your collective excitement and joy for Hana, the moment becomes even more intimate when she turns to you, her gaze filled with softness and genuine concern. "I just don't want you to get hurt.” She whispers, her voice a tender echo of past conversations. The sincerity in her eyes reflects the depth of your friendship, her worry stemming from the memory of your last heartbreak. That memory isn't just yours; it's shared in the collective heart of your friendship, a reminder of pain endured and the resilience that followed.

Jaemin, who until now has been a quiet observer of the emotional exchange, lets out a light chuckle. It's clear he's ready to leap to his own defence but you're quicker. "Jaem isn't gonna hurt me.” You assert confidently, your voice steady and strong. There's no hesitation, no faltering in your statement—a testament to the unwavering belief you hold in him.

This isn't a mere assertion; it's a declaration of trust, a trust that has been carefully built and nurtured over time. In your heart, you feel the solidity of this trust,

Jaemin's reaction to your words is subtle yet profound. There's a flash of something deeper in his eyes, a mixture of appreciation and a solemn promise. It's as if your words have not only affirmed your trust in him but also reinforced his commitment to honor and cherish that trust.

Jeno, unexpectedly quiet until now, says, "Yeah, he won’t." Jeno's sudden input surprises you, given his silence throughout the intervention. He’s normally active in discussions like these, his quietness up to this point was out of character.

"He’s a good guy.” Jeno reiterates, his voice imbued with a depth of trust and admiration. His words about Jaemin are not just spoken; they're felt, radiating a heartfelt sincerity that envelops the room.

In that instance, you and Jeno share an exchange so profoundly sweet, it transcends words. Smiles bloom on your faces, a silent nod sealing this moment of mutual understanding and respect.

Then, Jeno’s gaze finds yours, carrying a depth of knowledge and insight that puzzles you. It's a look filled with layers you can't quite decipher, leaving you curious about his thoughts and emotions. This moment of uncertainty stirs a mix of confusion and curiosity within you, prompting questions you yearn to ask.

Yet, the moment's simple beauty holds you back, urging you to just live in it, to appreciate the connection you share without overanalyzing. Jeno’s response is a smile, so broad and genuine, it encapsulates the essence of your friendship—a bond that thrives on unspoken understanding and shared moments just like this.

Hana smiled and shook her head. "Fine, but you guys should create rules for whatever kind of 'situationship' this is." You and Jaemin exchanged a look, and you realized that she was right.

"Can we have some privacy?" You asked, but you were immediately met with a chorus of "no's." You rolled your eyes, realizing that your friend group was just too open with each other. The closeness was a bit frightening at times, was it normal that you had seen them all naked on multiple occasions?

As he closes the distance, Jaemin's arm draped gently around your shoulder, he looked into your eyes with a sense of warmth and concern. "Are you okay?" He asked softly, his voice laced with genuine care.

You smiled at him, your fingers tenderly brushing over his eyebrow before cupping his cheek, drawing him into a gentle, heartfelt kiss. It was a quiet moment shared between just the two of you, a silent reassurance of your connection.

"So, what are you thinking?" You inquired, your fingers now finding his hand and intertwining with his. You took a deep breath, your gaze fixed on his, and continued, "I was thinking that communication is the key here. We should always be honest with each other about everything. For example, if you've found someone else, it would be better if you told me the truth so I can handle it better and..."

Before you could finish, Jaemin cut you off, his eyes unwavering as he affirmed, "I'm not going to find anyone else. I don't want anyone else." His words carried a deep sincerity that sent a warm shiver down your spine, reaffirming the bond you shared.

You nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed by your emotions. "Oh.” Was all you managed to say.

Jaemin's eyes held a gentle understanding as you continued, "And I think things like dates and gifts are okay. I mean, not like official dates, but if we want to go out, we don't need to be weird about it. I don't mean it like a date-date, but..."

"I know what you mean.” He said, voice filled with affection.

"Do you want to suggest something?" You asked, your arms wrapping around his neck as you gazed into his eyes.

Jaemin's smile is soft, filled with an unwavering patience and acceptance. "I just want whatever you want. Just tell me what you want, and if it's what you're comfortable with, then I want it too."

You nodded and then brought up another important point. "Um, also, can we continue keeping this private? I just... I don't want the attention, and I don't want Hyunjin to know. He's going to... he's just... I..."

The room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the emotional weight of the moment pressing down on you. As you fight back tears, a sense of vulnerability washes over you, compelling you to look away in embarrassment. Around you, the concern is palpable, your friends frown at the sight of your distress.

Jaemin's response is immediate and tender, his voice a soft balm in the tense atmosphere. "Hey, baby.” He murmurs, his words wrapping around you with a warmth that feels like a gentle embrace. The softness of his kiss is a promise, a silent assurance that you're not alone in this. He moves your face gently in his arms so you’re looking at him and only him.

"Of course we can keep it private.” He says, his commitment to your comfort and peace of mind clear in his tone. In that moment, You find yourself nodding, a smile breaking through the uncertainty as you lean in for another kiss, his soft lips making you ache for more.

You hesitated for a moment before bringing up one more concern. "Last one, if you ever find yourself catching feelings for another girl, then..."

Jaemin didn't let you finish your sentence. He interrupted with a passionate declaration, "I don't want that. Did I not make myself clear when I said that I don't want anyone who's not you? You're the only one I want."

The room fell silent, with even Haerin moaning at his words. You have to acknowledge, deep down, that this feeling is somewhat foreign to you. The sensation of being prioritised, of sharing space with someone who genuinely cherishes and respects your feelings to the extent that Jaemin does, is new and disarming. Reflecting on the past, you realize Hyunjin never offered you this kind of emotional security and consideration. The contrast between then and now is stark, stirring a mix of relief and a poignant sense of what you had long been missing. It's an emotional revelation, understanding for the first time the depth of care you truly deserve and are finally receiving.

A wave of emotions crashed over you, leaving you momentarily breathless. Before you could process his words, he bridged the gap between you, his actions speaking louder than any promise could. His lips met yours with a fervor that conveyed the depth of his sincerity, igniting a spark that quickly turned into a blazing fire.

The kiss was passionate, yet carried a tenderness that enveloped you in warmth and security. His lips moved against yours with a precision that spoke of his deep desire and commitment, each motion reinforcing his declaration. The intensity of the kiss deepened as if each touch, each melding of lips, was a seal over his vow, binding him to you and you alone.

The physical connection was overwhelming, sending ripples of heat through your body. His hands, firm yet gentle, cradled your face, pulling you closer into the kiss, leaving no space for doubts or fears. The world around you faded, leaving only the sensation of being wholly desired and cherished.

You were left with a lingering sense of being deeply connected, not just physically but emotionally. The assurance in Jaemin's kiss, the fervent way his lips claimed yours, left no room for uncertainty. In that moment, you felt a profound reassurance that his heart aligned with his words.

As the intensity of Jaemin's kiss enveloped you, a surge of boldness took over. Your hands found their way to the hem of his shirt. With a shared breath, a silent agreement passed between you, and you began to lift his shirt upwards. Jaemin's response was to pause the kiss momentarily, allowing you just enough space to pull the fabric over his head.

His shirt discarded, you were met with the warmth of his skin, the contours of his muscles under your fingertips, you began tracing the lines and warmth of his back, Jaemin's lips found yours again as you kissed him until you couldn’t breathe. It felt like kissing him was easier than breathing.

THE ONE WITH JAEMIN AND JENO

Jeno’s laughter breaks through, a sound mingled with relief and disbelief. “You can finally stop hiding around with her.” He chuckles, his gaze locking on Jaemin.

Jaemin responds with a breathy, “Thank fuck,.” His relief palpable, a tension he hadn’t realised he was holding released with those words.

Jeno continues, half in jest, half in admonishment. “You weren’t doing a good job at it though, fucking on the balcony above us, really? I had to pull my cover for you guys out of my literal ass. I don’t know how the others bought it.” Despite the humour, there’s an undercurrent of sincerity in his critique, a nod to the lengths he’d go to protect you and him.

Jaemin, feeling a swell of gratitude towards Jeno, turns to him. His shake of the head conveys more than words could—a silent thank you for the cover, for the understanding, for always being there.

Then, Jeno’s tone shifts, the mood turning serious as he changes the direction of the conversation. “Take care of her.” He says, his voice steady, eyes locking onto Jaemin with a depth of concern that’s rare to see.

The sudden seriousness catches Jaemin off guard, but his response is immediate and unwavering. “You know I will.”

Jeno’s next words are heavier, laden with worry. “You know I worry about her.” He confesses, revealing a protective side often hidden beneath his lighthearted exterior.

Jeno’s tone takes on a sombre note, his words heavy with concern and a touch of anger. “Do you know how fucked she got after that dick fucked her over?” He asks, his voice laden with seriousness. “She got high every single night.” He continues, the worry evident in his expression.

Then, he shares something even graver, a fact that underscores the depth of her despair. “She overdosed and ended up in the hospital.” He reveals, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

Jeno’s frown deepens as he recalls the nights filled with your cries, a testament to the pain you endured. The memory of it brings a heavy sigh from him, the kind that echoes with the weight of unspoken words and shared heartaches. “Her room is next to Haerin’s, and I’d just hear her cry every night.” He says, his voice tinged with a sorrow that speaks volumes of the nights spent in worry for you.

Jaemin listens, a storm of emotions playing across his features— he wants to deal with Hyunjin. He feels shock, anger, and an undeniable resolve to protect you. “I’m taking care of her.”

Jaemin understands the heartache of a breakup all too well, having recently navigated the end of his relationship with Yeeun. In the aftermath, he found himself caught in a mess of emotions. He struggled a lot. Time, however, has a way of soothing the sharpest sorrows, and gradually, he felt himself healing, the pieces of his fractured heart beginning to realign. It's in this journey of recovery that he found himself drawn to you, a beacon of hope and a promise of new beginnings.

Or is that what he’s made himself believe?

“She hasn’t gotten high since she’s been with me. I take care of her, I make sure she doesn’t. Jaemin continues, his determination clear. “All I wanna do is make her happy.”

Jeno’s response is a grin, a gesture that reflects his recognition and approval. “Yeah. You are.” He agrees, acknowledging the positive shift he’s witnessed in you. Your friends have noticed the change, seen the light return to your eyes, and watched as your health and spirits lifted. They’ve seen the laughter replace the tears, the strength replace the fragility, all under Jaemin’s tender care.

Jaemin, new to your life, may not have known the depth of your struggles, the lows that once defined your days. Yet, his presence has woven a new narrative, one where happiness fill the spaces that pain once occupied. In the quiet moments, in the soft touches and shared smiles, there’s an intimacy and warmth that envelops you both.

EVERYONE KNOWS NOW

Now, the secret's out—at least among your circle of friends. Shotaro, ever observant, claims he pieced it together during the barbecue, asserting he always knew Jaemin was your mystery man on the balcony. Donghyuck remains unfazed and isolated, lost in thought over his coffee and not making eye contact with anyone, while Yangyang teases you playfully, calling you a "nasty girl." Xiaojun, however, is notably silent, a quiet observer which was odd.

Walking into the campus café, where your friends have gathered, you immediately lock eyes with Jaemin. There's an unspoken conversation in that glance, a connection that speaks volumes, highlighted by your shared smiles. The crowded space leaves no chair for you, but Jaemin easily solves the dilemma, inviting you to sit on his lap with a welcoming gesture. You happily oblige like the good girl you are, you settle into the comfort of his embrace.

The moment you're in his arms, his lips gently press against yours, capturing them in a delicate kiss. His fingers softly caress your thighs under your skirt, coos of affection whispered in your ear. Together, you share smiles, gentle caresses, and tender kisses.

Engrossed in this bubble with Jaemin, you barely register Xiaojun's reaction. His quietness and frown might have caught your attention any other day, but today, the relief of no longer hiding overshadows everything else.

"Did you eat?" Jaemin's voice, low and caring, breaks the spell of your intimate moment. You respond with a shake of your head, and he takes it upon himself to feed you, his actions tender and attentive.

You and Jaemin said your goodbyes to your friends and you’re now walking side by side with him on campus, you find solace in his presence. Words are unnecessary; the silence between you isn't oppressive but rather comforting, a testament to the ease and understanding you share. You're aware of the curious glances directed your way, yet they don't unsettle you. Jaemin seems unfazed as well, his demeanor calm and reassuring.

The thought crosses your mind that you're under scrutiny, possibly judged, yet it doesn't disturb your peace. You recognize that there's nothing wrong in seeking happiness, in reveling in the warmth of Jaemin's hand in yours. However, the shadow of a past fear looms at the edge of your consciousness—the concern about Hyunjin's reaction, a person whose gaze alone might shatter your newfound tranquility.

You had your reasons for keeping your relationship with Jaemin a secret, predominantly due to apprehensions about Hyunjin's influence over your emotions and well-being. The thought of his control over your happiness scares you deeply. But fuck him. You refuse to allow him any power over your current joy.

Hand in hand with Jaemin, each step on the campus grounds feels like a declaration, a step towards what feels right. Despite the past fears and the potential judgement from Hyunjin or anyone else, this moment with Jaemin feels like where you're meant to be—free, unburdened, and genuinely happy.

In a moment that feels suspended in time, you and Jaemin come to a halt amidst the hum of campus life, now rendered inconsequential. The backdrop fades as he gently presses your back against the cool facade of a campus building, his gaze capturing yours with an intensity that's both mysterious and compelling.

Jaemin, with a slow, intentional movement, retrieves a blueberry lollipop from his pocket. The act of unwrapping it, taking a moment to savor its flavor, all the while holding your gaze, adds a layer of anticipation to the already charged atmosphere between you. The tension mounts, every gesture laden with unvoiced promises.

As he closes the distance, the air around you seems to thicken. When your lips finally meet, the kiss is not just an ordinary one—it's a fusion of sensations, the sweetness of the lollipop blending seamlessly with the moment's warmth. This kiss is a discovery, an intimate exploration that goes beyond the physical.

The initial surprise quickly gives way to a mutual passion, your response mirroring his intensity. Your hands find their way into his hair, drawing him closer, deepening the kiss. The flavor of blueberry envelops you, enhancing the experience, making it something entirely unique.

Suddenly, aware of the setting, you gently push him back, a whisper escaping your lips, "Everyone is gonna see us."

His response is a carefree shrug, the words almost a caress in themselves, "When a pretty girl asks me the flavor of my lollipop, should I say no?" His words, teasing yet sincere, dissolve any hesitation, reaffirming the connection between you.

Eager to reclaim the moment, your lips find his once more, reconnecting with an urgency that speaks volumes. This kiss is deeper, fueled by the brief pause, a blend of rebellion and affirmation of your bond. It's a declaration made without words, a shared understanding that what you have is worth the exposure, worth every risk. The sweet taste of the lollipop, now a symbol of your shared secret, lingers as a testament to the complex, beautiful dynamic you share with Jaemin.

The kiss, intense and filled with unspoken emotions, was Jaemin’s way of saying goodbye—a sweet, lingering farewell as he had classes for the rest of the day. You’re left with a smile on your lips, your cheeks burning with a flush that you try to hide by covering them with your hands. Waving goodbye, you watch Jaemin until he disappears from view, the memory of the kiss still vivid in your mind.

But the moment he’s out of sight, a shift occurs. Turning around, you’re confronted with the piercing gaze of Jang Yeeun, her eyes fixed on you with an intensity that feels like a cold shock in contrast to the warmth you just experienced. Her words cut through the air, sharp and accusatory: “So you’re the reason why Jaemin’s been ignoring all of my calls.”

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comment to be added to the tag list for part 2!! (will be a 4 part series)

taglist - @sexygrass @tywritesstuff @666-aiko @leep0ems @kyuuniversee @daegalfangirl @side-effects @kgneptun @thecaffeinatedfangirl @i6renj @hcaeh @buns-inhiding @pinknjm @nominsgirl @liliansun @nominsgirl@ itserylyn1 @carelessshootanonymous @scarredrose25 @kuntyswife @siordior

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