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ugh-yoongi · 5 months

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you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it. 🎙️

pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: podcast, friends to lovers au; crack, smut, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact. warnings: parasocial relationships galore, a m*n with a p*dcast, author abuses italics, swearing, alcohol, reader uses a pseudonym/nickname (piper) because writing the meta fanfiction scene would've been too weird without one and i refuse to use y/n, dialogue-heavy but it is a fic about a podcast, everyone is down horrendous, mentions of social media & fake r*ddit posts, ex-boyfriend yoongi but in a good, healthy way. let me know if i missed anything but mostly this is just two goofballs not realizing they're in love with one another. smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex (fiction), protected vaginal sex (nonfiction), a lil squirting, mild degradation, mentions of a p*ss kink but there is no actual pee i promise (...lest?), i didn't intend to write size kink but it's namjoon so it just showed up anyway, slight dom!joon, everyone orgasms. wordcount: 17.5k credits: this was entirely inspired by that one episode of the basement yard where frankie reads the smut fic of him and joe, so credits to both that author and that podcast. spotify, for their podcast name generator. astro-seek for helping me drag namjoon astrologically. an extra special, gigantic thanks to @effortandmore for writing the meta fanfic (3k of it, no less!) and not batting an eye when i said it could have pee in it as a joke. this is as much yours as it is mine. finally, @hot-soop and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me and telling me i'm funny. author's note: happy birthday, indigo! here i am to validate every fear you've ever had that the people you write porn about may one day read it. live and on air. :)

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years.

You can learn a lot about a guy in that amount of time.

None of it is especially salacious. You know all about his family and his dog and the brand of recycled paper towels he insists on buying in bulk. You know what he’d written his grad school thesis on and what he’d looked like in the thick of it, when he was staving off his fifth mental break of the week. You know how fidgety he gets when it’s closing in on Friday night and he’s got a date—how much he stresses over which restaurant to pick, which cologne, which expensive cashmere sweater to wear.

You also know what the internet thinks about him. Intimately.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is peak husband material. He has cheeks ripe for pinching and thighs small countries would go to war to defend. He has a lap that doubles as a seat and dimples people want to get baptized in. He has Instagram selfies with hundreds of thousands of likes and comment sections full of intelligible keysmashes, especially the ones he posts from the gym.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is a man written by a woman.

Looking at him now, you aren’t sure that’s true, you think people just need to raise their standards. Namjoon is just… Namjoon. He’s intelligent and kind and up to date on modern feminist theory, is all. And, sure, maybe in the current political landscape that puts him far above the rest of men, but the way the internet has latched onto him is a little concerning.

“There’s another post about whether or not we’re dating,” you say, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

sooo let’s be real here, we ALL think they’re dating, right?? Posted by u/pod-shipper 2 hours ago

Just like he always does, Namjoon huffs out a soft laugh, makes his way around to your side of the table. Puts his large hands on your shoulders as he leans in close to read from your screen, snorting every time he reads a sentence he finds particularly amusing. Whichever cologne he’d chosen this morning is, admittedly, very nice.

It’s sooo obvious, especially in the episodes they film and post on YouTube. The way they look at each other?? I don’t even look at my HUSBAND like that! (+1264) ↳ omg ur sooooo right! i could MAYBE buy that they aren’t full on dating, but they’ve def at least slept together. Namjoon is so 🔥🔥🔥 (+791) ↳ um how can namjoon be dating her when he’s already married to me 😌💅 (+3) ↳ For the millionth time, can we not speculate on their personal lives? This is weird and reinforces really harmful ideas that men and women can’t just be friends. (-51)

“How come they never talk about how hot you are?”

You can tell by the look on Namjoon’s face that he hadn’t meant to say that—or, if he did, he didn’t mean to say it like that, with an entire pout, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. “Cursed to be ugly and dumb,” you joke to ease the sudden tension, reading the comment that simply says you’d have to be the dumbest person alive to not sleep with Namjoon.

He scrunches his nose at that. Returns to his side of the table. “Yeah, I don’t think so, lots of people haven’t slept with me.” Starts to unpack all the gear from his bag before he says, “Hey, all that stuff—does it bother you?”

“What do you mean?” you answer, the corner of a protein bar stuck in your mouth. Namjoon always insists on recording at the most inconvenient times.

“People thinking we’re together,” he clarifies.

You shrug. “I dunno. Not really. Comes with the territory, I think, not to mention how much you love to overshare—”

“Hello?”

“I’m just saying,” you retort, hands raised in self-defense. “There really was no need for you to mention you blew your grad school stipend on a porn scam.” Namjoon looks affronted, like he can’t believe you’d stoop so low as to bring that up. “Or that you lost your virginity at fifteen.”

“We have a relationship podcast,” he states simply. “That’s kind of what we do, right? Talk about relationships? And the spectrum of human sexuality is part of that.”

You slump back in your chair as you quirk an eyebrow. “No one said it wasn’t, I just said you overshare. Which you do.”

“And that’s why there’s a dozen Reddit posts a week discussing whether or not we’re dating? Because I overshare?”

“Yeah, exactly. That’s the kind of behavior that leads to parasocial relationships. People latch onto that shit. Makes them think they’re your friend.” He glares. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right. It’s bad enough you’ve word-vomited all this highly personal information about yourself, but to not even do it under a pseudonym? It’s like you’re begging for trouble.”

Another comment he doesn’t even realize he’s making: “I don’t beg. For anything.”

To this day, you’re not sure why Namjoon asked you to co-host a podcast with him.

His reasoning had been simple: “You’re my best friend and we don’t agree on anything.” Hard to argue with that. Namjoon has seemingly endless patience, even in the face of things he shouldn’t entertain, and you… do not, to put it simply.

You’re not a cold person. Your fuse isn’t short. You’re just a little jaded, is all. Have far less propensity for bullshit than Namjoon does, so the two of you play well off each other. You end a sentence with a well-punctuated full stop and Namjoon’s right behind you to sigh and say maybe you shouldn’t be so hasty, not everything in the world can be so black or white.

Except some things are. Somewhere along the way, the podcast—which Namjoon had affectionately named Place Him Gently in the Garbage, even though some people should be shoved in there with force—had picked up a following. A big one. And now, every week, you’re inundated with emails ranging in severity. Sometimes people just want to vent after their tenth bad date in a row or share funny stories, and Namjoon lets you take the lead on those, but sometimes it’s a little more serious. That’s where Namjoon shines, all that endless patience, and people love him for it.

“What’s on the agenda today?” he asks, accepting a thick stack of papers from Jungkook.

Ah, Jungkook.

You aren’t sure what he actually does. Some kind of social media manager, which is obvious from the wildly out-of-context clips he posts of you to TikTok, and it’s his responsibility to go through the thousands of emails you get from listeners, but aside from that all you’ve got are your suspicions that he just sticks around to swindle Namjoon out of more and more money.

“I’m in a silly goofy mood,” comes Jungkook’s reply, and you let out a witch cackle as Namjoon winces. Nothing good ever comes of Jungkook being in a silly goofy mood, and that’s quite alright by you.

Fifteen minutes later finds you with a camera in your face that you greet with an unamused, flat stare. Jungkook is used to it by now. Just films for a few seconds before turning his attention to an unaware Namjoon. Head down, pen and highlighter going a mile a minute as he pores over the stack of papers with all the doggedness and eagle-eyed stare of a literature professor.

That’s the thing about Namjoon—he takes this really seriously. So do you, but not in the ways Namjoon does. He’s all skill and determination and you’re color commentary. It works. It clearly works, so you aren’t too bent out of shape about it, but sometimes you worry. Namjoon takes this really seriously and sometimes you worry that he takes it too seriously, that he carries the burdens and worries of all these strangers, that he’s trying to solve and fix things that aren’t his responsibility to solve and fix.

So he takes it really seriously and you don’t take it as seriously as you maybe should, and everything is by design. Balanced.

Twenty minutes later finds you staring across the table at Namjoon, who asks, “Are you ready?” and does one last equipment check before he launches into, “Welcome back to another episode of Place Him Gently in the Garbage with Namjoon and Piper. What’s new with you, Pipe? Any fun news?”

Pipe. It drives you nuts. Feels like nails on a chalkboard. “I see you almost every single day,” you respond dryly. “But for the sake of entertainment, I’m thinking about getting a cat.”

“A cat?” Namjoon parrots, and his eyebrows disappear beneath his fringe because he knows what that means.

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, but you’ve known him even longer.

Since your first year of college, which is also when you met Yoongi. Yoongi, your ex. Yoongi, the person you’d been with for six years and had planned a life around. Yoongi, now one of your closest friends, because the two of you still love one another but no longer in that way, which is fine. But also—Yoongi, allergic to cats.

So, yeah. Namjoon knows what that means, and he has the good sense not to mention it. Unlike him, you’re intensely private and keep your cards close to your chest. Your listeners don’t even know your real name, let alone that you’d gone through a breakup a year ago.

“What kind of cat?” he continues, like his entire world hasn’t just been turned upside-down.

You shrug. “Eh, I don’t know. Probably one that’s been in the shelter a long time, I guess. I’m not too fussy, you know?”

“Right, a cat is a cat,” Namjoon says, thinking he’s done something. You and Jungkook gasp at the same time. “What? Why are you giving me that look?”

“Because that’s a fucked up thing to say! A cat is not just a cat. They have little personalities, just like people. You’ve got—”

“But you just said you’re not fussy,” he interjects. “And I know they have personalities and that you have to find one that suits your lifestyle! Like, you can’t have one of those really cool cats that likes to go kayaking and shit, it’d never work—”

“What does that mean? Why couldn’t I have a cool cat?”

“Hey, all you cool cats and kittens,” Namjoon mocks, and you can tell he thinks he’s done something again, but his impression falls flatter than flat. An awkward silence fills the studio. He coughs. “Anyway. Do you have pictures?”

“Yeah. I also have a list of candidates ranked by how cool their names are. Number five, Casserole.”

“That’s cute.”

“Mhm,” you agree, “but Casserole is a kitten, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of responsibility.”

“They do say you should adopt kittens in pairs.”

“And that’s how they get you. You want one kitten and they talk you into two, and before you know it you’ve got, like, twelve cats. Number four, Party Girl.”

“Sick name.”

“Number three, Toddler.”

“Toddler?”

“Number two, Flat.”

“Just Flat? Understandable.”

“And, finally, number one: Human Torch.”

“Yoooo.” Namjoon laughs. “You have to adopt Human Torch. Let me see.” You pull up a picture on your phone and hand it over. “Okay, for our listeners—Human Torch is a young, male Domestic Short Hair. He has stripes. I don’t know what that’s called.”

“Tabby,” Jungkook chimes in.

“Jungkook says he’s a tabby. He’s cute. Adopt him.”

You return your phone to your pocket. “Maybe. I still think I want an older cat, but I’ll consider it. What about you, though? Any new dating horror stories to share?”

Ah, the dating horror stories. Your most dedicated shippers are convinced they’re fake, that Namjoon just makes them up on the spot to keep them off your trail. If only. Not in the if only they were fake and Namjoon and I were actually dating kind of way, but the holy shit one of my closest friends is a fucking disaster and it’s a little embarrassing kind of way.

“Not really,” he answers. “I’ve got a date this Friday, though. Trying to decide if dinner and a movie is too boring.”

“It’s a classic for a reason. What are you gonna see, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3?”

“Three?” Namjoon emphasizes, truly sounding scandalized. “Since when are there three? I haven’t even seen one or two.”

“Okay, first of all, the original is a classic and it’s a crime you haven’t seen it.”

“And second of all?”

“There is no second of all. Repeat point one.”

He snorts. “I’m not gonna see that, anyway. Maybe the re-release of Howl’s Moving Castle.”

“Subbed or dubbed, though?”

“Are you trying to get me canceled?”

“Absolutely.”

“I like both,” he chickens out. “Now, let’s stop wasting time and get to the point of the show.”

“Talking about cats is a waste of time?”

“I—no, we’ve just got a lot on the agenda today.”

“Like what?”

“Well, there’s lots to talk about on the celebrity front—”

Namjoon loves this part. As esteemed and educated as he is, not even he is immune to good old celebrity gossip. (Inside him there are two wolves.) Lives for it. Texts you about it at all hours of the night. Sends you links to Reddit threads with hundreds of comments. Has more opinions on Celebrity Big Brother than he does on Ludwig Wittgenstein, sometimes, and when that’s the case you know you’re in for a long evening. You’ve never even seen an episode of Celebrity Big Brother.

But Namjoon loves it, so you’ve become fond of it by association. Reminds you a bit of Yoongi and his love for sports and sports anime.

“—one should we start with?”

“Whatever you want,” you answer, because you haven’t been paying a lick of attention and you aren’t sure it matters anyway. Namjoon can talk to a wall on a good day, but he’s an entirely different beast once mundane, innocuous celeb gossip gets involved.

And even though you hadn’t been paying attention, it seems like this was the right thing to say, because Namjoon smiles so wide his dimples crater his face. “Cool. Let’s start with Taryn Manning. Did you see that bizarre—”

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who is Taryn Manning?”

Namjoon looks a little dumbstruck. Even Jungkook’s arching an eyebrow at you. “Are you serious? She was in Orange is the New Black and Crossroads.”

“The Britney Spears movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Weird, okay. Continue.”

Your co-host shoots you a very pointed look. “I will, thanks. Anyway, she posted a video on social media talking about this affair she had with a married man. Like, she pulled over on the side of the road to record this. Said she can’t stand the man’s wife because she called her a quote-unquote lunatic.”

“I—huh, thought we weren’t supposed to say that anymore. Alright.”

“But wait, it gets even more bizarre. Listen to this quote—and this is direct. This is a direct quote from the video, I can’t stop thinking about it: ‘Don’t you ever threaten me when your husband came to me to get his butthole licked.’ Can you—”

“What? Namjoon, what in the fuck—”

“It’s crazy, right? She was gonna buy this guy a boat.”

“Namjoon, this is a family show, you can’t just talk about ass-eating unprompted.”

“No it’s not.”

“Well, you still shouldn’t talk about ass-eating unprompted. It’s unbecoming.”

“You’re unbecoming,” Namjoon fires back, because he can’t help it. The words are out of his mouth before he can think. “Sorry, that was out of line.”

You sigh. Know whatever look Jungkook is catching on his camera right now is exasperated and pointed, the corners of your mouth probably tugged up just a hint. “Unbecoming, like I said.” Namjoon scoffs. “Anyway, so this actress was gonna buy this married guy a boat and was eating his ass?”

“Yeah. Apparently it was her friend’s husband? They all went to a Taylor Swift concert together.”

“Jesus, this keeps getting worse. Big year for Hollywood cheaters.”

“It is, right? Cheaters and divorces. Something in the water, I guess.”

“I saw the astrology girlies saying a bunch of planets are in retrograde, so—”

“Can you explain that to me? Like, what does it mean for a planet to be in retrograde? Why is it causing divorces?”

“I don’t know, I’m not an astrology girlie. That’s why I said the astrology girlies. What are your big three, though?”

“What’s that?”

“Your sun, moon, and rising signs.”

“How do I find that out?”

“Ugh,” you intone, “don’t worry about it, I’ll do it myself. What time were you born?”

Namjoon rattles off a time.

You grab your laptop. Pull up the page, type in Namjoon’s date of birth and birthplace, and wait. Then you’re staring at a circle with a bunch of lines in it that also don’t make a lick of sense to you. You roll your lips to keep from laughing and school your voice into something deadly serious. “Bad news: it says you’re a virgin.”

“Virgo,” Namjoon corrects, not taking the bait. “I already knew that.”

You scroll a little further down the page. “Your moon is in Sagittarius. Oh god, listen to this, they’ve got you pegged: ‘The greatest need is to always search for something. In order to feel safe you need a philosophy or belief’—”

“Haaa, that’s not—”

“—’You need to have a goal or mission that gives your life meaning. Your faith must be voluntary and it is a paradox that fighting against dogmas may lead you to other dogmas.’ Yeah, that’s you.”

“That could apply to anyone,” he argues. “There are seven-billion people on this planet; I’d imagine a sizable amount of them would say that also describes them.”

“Hm, sounds like your faith in astrology is not yet voluntary. Did you know you’re a Scorpio rising?”

“No. I’m sure you’re gonna tell me all about it, though.”

You smile. “Correct. ‘People with Scorpio on the Ascendant need to fight against dark and destructive power in their life.’ Is that true?”

“Yeah, you’re the dark and destructive power. You keep sidetracking me and we need to get to the point of the podcast.” He grabs the stack of papers Jungkook had given him. Looks more highlighter than paper, if you’re being honest. “I guess Jungkook thought we needed a lighthearted kind of day.”

“That was nice of him, considering what he gave us last week. I guess we’re allowed to have faith in humanity today.”

To your left, Jungkook scoffs.

“Alright,” Namjoon starts, putting on his Very Serious Podcast Guy voice, “first up we’ve got a question from one of our listeners in Canada. It says, ‘Hi, Piper and Namjoon. I recently agreed to go on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She said he was a bit old-fashioned but really talked him up so I thought I was in good hands—and then he showed up to get me in a ‘67 GTO and exclusively referred to me as doll. He didn’t use my name once. I’m torn, because he was really nice and I had a good time otherwise, but this is weird, right? Should I see him agai—’”

“No,” you interject.

“Can I finish?”

“You don’t have to. This guy sounds greasy.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “And why is that?”

“Ignoring the fact that this guy has arguably one of the lamest classic cars around, he didn’t use their name once? Not once, in all the time they spent together? That’s really disrespectful.”

“Some people are just pet name people,” Namjoon argues.

“With absolute strangers, though? It’s really giving the impression that he didn’t even know it, not to mention some people are uncomfortable with pet names. The whole shtick is super lame.”

“I agree it sounds a bit misguided, but—”

Ignoring Namjoon, you say, “Sorry you had to go on a date with the ghost of less-cool James Dean. Into the garbage he goes.”

And, just like he’s done a million times before, Namjoon rolls his eyes and says, “If you really like this guy and want to see him again, a bit of communication will go a long way. Tell him the pet name made you uncomfortable—if it did—and offer to pick him up for the next date. I don’t think he’s completely destined for the garbage, yet.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have a license. You probably think a 1967 Pontiac GTO is the pinnacle of romance. That’s probably like picking someone up on a Specialized Aethos to you, eh?”

“That’s a fifteen-thousand dollar bike, I’ll have you know.”

You groan. “Oh my god.”

Ep: #183 - Namjoon is a Virgin

I think Namjoon had the right idea on this one. Sure, the car can be considered lame, but I think a lot of men are deeply insecure and therefore overcompensate when it comes to dating. Women are hard to impress when they have unlimited options. You have to stand out, so I’m glad he advocated for him. Piper can come off like such a misandrist sometimes. (-649) ↳ just shut up bro namjoon would fuckin hate u (+204) ↳ Imagine caring about something like this when they’re getting a cat together 🙄 (+19)

You think about the cat thing for nearly a week.

Adopting a cat is certainly not the worst idea you’ve ever had, and truth be told it’s been a little lonely, living by yourself. No more Yoongi in your space; no more Holly. So, having a new little friend around might do you some good.

It’s just—

It’s a big commitment, and there’s also the dog sitting-shaped elephant in the room. Ending things on good terms means you’re still Yoongi’s second-choice sitter whenever he has to go out of town, and while you love Holly dearly (the two of you had adopted him together, after all), he’s a lot like his father in a lot of ways.

Should I get a cat, you type out, and it’s only been in Yoongi’s inbox a few seconds before the most unflattering picture you’ve ever taken of him is flashing across your screen.

“Are you dying?” you ask, because Yoongi doesn’t call you for much else.

And you already know what his response is going to be. “We’re all dying.”

“Lighten up, Yoongi. One might say being so existentially nihilistic before noon causes wrinkles.”

There’s a split-second pause. “It’s nine p.m.”

“Sure, but it’s before tomorrow’s noon, so it still counts.”

“Whatever. Listen, before you adopt that cat, I need a favor.”

“You going out of town again?”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be long, though. A week at the most, five days if I’m lucky.”

“That’s fine, bring him over whenever. Yijeong’s busy?”

This pause is far, far longer. “No,” comes Yoongi’s eventual response, but it’s slow. Unsure. A two-letter word has never taken so long to say in the history of ever. “He’s, uh. Coming with me?”

Oh, you think. This is where your ex awkwardly and hesitantly breaks the news of his new relationship. You’ve known this day was coming, and this is what you get for staying friends with him. “This is a fanfiction plot,” you accuse. “Hot, mysterious man moves into a gaudy apartment complex after ending a long-term relationship and meets his equally-hot and mysterious neighbor and they fall in love.”

“I—that’s not—my apartment is not gaudy.”

“Yes it is. There’s a giant gold bust of a weird bird in the lobby.”

“Weird bird?” he parrots. “It’s a swan.”

“I see you’re not denying the in-love-with-your-neighbor accusations.”

“Am I on trial?” Yoongi retorts, and it’s such a Yoongi thing to say when what he means is, is this okay? He means, are we able to talk about this without it being weird? He means, I won’t ever say as much out loud, but your acceptance means a lot to me, and I’d like for you to give me this.

So you lower your voice and soften the edges because it’s not really something to joke about, and you say, “No, of course you’re not on trial,” and Yoongi knows what you mean. “And if you were, you'd get locked up for fifty years. You can’t lie for shit.”

There’s a beat of silence before he clears his throat, mutters a thanks that is so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “Send me pictures of the cats.”

Later on, once you’re freshly-showered and tucked into bed with a candle and a book (Eloge de l’amour by Alain Badiou at Namjoon’s insistence and request), your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongi—

Yoongi: toddler is a fucking hilarious name for a cat but so is flat Yoongi: it’s a tie for me You: Okay well pick one 🙄 Yoongi: yijeong says get both You: Both???? Is he paying my vet bills? Yoongi: kinda out of line to proposition him for money. flat is also good with dogs, js You: If he’s now being raised by you two, my perfect, well-behaved son is probably long gone. Does he even count as a dog anymore? Yoongi: me and yijeong both say fuck off Yoongi: holly too. he says he doesn’t miss you anymore and he’s not coming over now Yoongi has added Yijeong to the group Yoongi has changed the group name to #ThirdWheelChat Yijeong: Please don’t drag me into this. Also I did not say “fuck off” You have changed the group name to People Who Have Seen Yoongi Naked Yoongi: fuck you

You should’ve known something was going on with Jungkook, because it’d started like this:

(When you and Namjoon started the podcast three years ago, it was in the living room of his apartment.

Surrounded by books and plants. He loved to record in the afternoons back then—Namjoon loved to say it was because of his grad school schedule, but you’ve always suspected he just wanted to preen in the golden hour light, much like he’s doing now.

“Is this really necessary?” Jungkook whines from his spot on the couch. He’s already swindled Namjoon out of two bags of microwavable popcorn and three cans of sparkling water. “It’s a Saturday afternoon; I could be doing something so much more fun than this.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Are you saying this isn’t fun?”

“Yeah. It sucks, actually. This could’ve been an email.”

And because Namjoon is accomplished, mature, and absolutely incapable of not taking Jungkook’s bait, the space between his brows creases as he sends a murderous glare Jungkook’s way. “Stop eating my food, then. And drinking my drinks. And lounging on my couch like that—”

“I’m not lounging,” Jungkook argues.

“You’re manspreading all over the leather!”

“This is how I sit!”

“Well, knock it off! My couch is only for fun and people who think I’m fun!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “So you fuck on it?”

“What?”

“What other fun things could you possibly do on a couch?”

Namjoon blinks. “Watch… watch a movie?”

Jungkook groans, throws himself backwards against the pillows as if he’s suffering a Victorian ailment. “Jesus. No wonder you can’t score a second date.”

“Okay, that was a little uncalled for. There are a ton of reasons a person might not want a second date, and no one is obligated to go out with me—”

“Uh-huh. Anyway—”

You clear your throat. Try to hide your own can of seltzer you’d taken from Namjoon’s fridge in the midst of his and Jungkook’s bickering. “Not trying to be rude, but I have an appointment at the shelter at three. If, y’know. You wouldn’t mind speeding this up a little.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course—”

“Oh, so you’ll speed this up for her but not—”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “She,” he begins, jerking his thumb in your direction, “isn’t needlessly complaining and actually has someplace to be.”)

It was just a quick little rendezvous in Namjoon’s living room to come up with a rough draft for the following month’s episodes. He couldn’t do it over text because he’d fallen down the steps at his office and landed on his ass on the corner of a step and his phone had been in his back pocket. Cracked clean in half. And he couldn’t do it over email because he—rightfully—knew Jungkook would ignore them because he has his inbox set up to send all of Namjoon’s personal emails to the trash.

But Jungkook holds onto things like that. Grudges. Loves to let Namjoon think bygones are bygones and pop up a few days later with some evil scheme. Hence:

“What is this?”

Jungkook smirks. Rocks back on his heels. “It’s fanfiction.”

“I can see that, but… why?”

This is where Jungkook shines: the ominous, cheshire cat grin; the aw, shucks demeanor that gaslights Namjoon into thinking Jungkook couldn’t possibly be fucking with him. “Well, you were having trouble coming up with ideas for episodes, and there’s an email in there from someone whose partner reads really expli—”

“Jungkook, this is fanfiction about me.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. Of all the weird shit you’ve seen on the internet (and there’s been a lot), fanfiction of people you know—your friends—was something you’d managed to escape. Probably by virtue of not knowing anyone famous enough to warrant fanfiction being written about them.

But you should’ve known. You really, really should’ve known.

“Oh my god?”

You’re not sure who says it. Could be you or Namjoon, but the sentiment is the same. He mouths a what the fuck at you that’s met with a shrug. You’re in uncharted territory now, too. “Where did you even find this?” you ask, taking the stack of papers from Namjoon. “And why did you print it out?”

“Because I’m going to track down whoever wrote it and get them to autograph it. Then I’m going to buy a nice frame and hang it on the wall behind him, so we never forget this historical moment in Place Him Gently in the Garbage lore.”

“It’s a podcast,” Namjoon deadpans, “how can it have lore? And how much lore can there possibly be?”

“It’s the internet,” you concede. “The lore possibilities are endless. Don’t tempt them.”

Jungkook nods sagely, well-versed in the degeneracy of the internet. “Yeah, that’s how you end up with shit like 4chan.”

“4chan? There’s Space Jam porn on there.”

As the youngest, all Jungkook can do is roll his eyes. “Sometimes explaining this shit to you feels like trying to teach old people how to rotate PDFs—”

Namjoon scoffs. “I’m not that bad. I know how to rotate a PDF.”

Wow, Jungkook mouths. “Anyway, back to the fanfiction—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Namjoon interjects. He looks at you. “It’s weird, right? Like, it’s weird that people have written this about us?”

About us.

Your scope of the world narrows to the size of a pinhead. It’d just been about Namjoon before. This is fanfiction about me, he’d said, and you hadn’t been included in that. Now it’s written about us and you’re included.

“I—what?”

“It’s about us,” Namjoon repeats.

Jungkook rolls his lips. “It’s about the two of you fucking, to be specific.”

“Can you not—”

“Fucking a lot,” Jungkook continues. “So much fucking.”

Namjoon looks at you, and it’s all you can do to keep from laughing. The look on his face is pure bewilderment, both that Jungkook has cooked up this idea and is hell-bent on executing it and that he remains employed. And maybe it’s a little bit of nerves, too, because neither of you are ignorant of the risks. Reading fanfiction about yourselves—about the two of you as a couple, specifically, or at least two people who have sex—is weird. Not something you can unread.

And maybe it’s because you’re so determined to not make it weird that you send Namjoon a cheeky, exaggerated wink, shrug your shoulders, and say, “I’ll need a couple drinks, but I’m down.”

Jungkook throws his head back and cackles wildly, and that look of bewilderment on Namjoon’s face morphs into something else. Trepidation, maybe; definitely disbelief, because sometimes he lets himself get swept away in Jungkook’s schemes, but it’s rare that you follow suit.

As Jungkook continues to laugh, you wonder if you should’ve said no.

Namjoon has two stipulations: the two of you have to film the episode completely alone, and he, too, needs to be a little drunk.

The latter? Piece of cake, considering Namjoon has become some sort of whiskey aficionado in recent years. His drinking is streamlined and to the point—he knows exactly how much and what to drink to get him where he wants to be. You can’t say he isn’t efficient.

The former, though? Borderline impossible. From the second Namjoon states his terms, Jungkook is having none of it. Argues that he’s the one who found the story and the one who cleared it with the author, so he deserves to witness the fruits of his labor.

“No,” Namjoon repeats for the nth time, “no way. I’ll barely be able to do this with just her, let alone both of you.”

And that—that doesn’t bother you, right? You force a laugh, because why would it bother you?

There are few secrets between you and Namjoon, except your respective sex lives have been staunchly off-limits. Namjoon could be a virgin for all you know, and as you study him—the way he keeps bobbing his leg, the slight shake in his hands—you wonder if that’s the reason he’s being so weird about this.

It’s just a story.

Fiction.

Most people don’t have to worry about someone writing stories about them fucking their friends. If they do, you reckon even less actually read them. So, sure, it’s a little strange, but people from all over the world send in stranger stuff all the time, don’t they? It’s literally the reason you’re in this predicament.

Eventually Jungkook agrees. His whining has gotten him nowhere, so he just throws up his hands. Posts a cryptic little “u guys won’t believe what the next patreon ep is lmao” that sends the internet into a frenzy. Doubles your Patreon numbers almost immediately, and both you and Namjoon do a good job of pretending the pressure isn’t overwhelming.

Jesus. You have to read explicit fanfiction about yourselves. On camera.

Namjoon gets caught up with work and isn’t available until the weekend, so you’re forced to sit with the nerves for a few days. Not too bad at first, but you’re nearly coming out of your skin by Thursday with the need to know. You’re well-versed in the world of fanfiction, but this is fanfiction about you: your name, your likeness, maybe even your personality.

What will they know of Namjoon, though?

Will they get it right, the way he looks with his jaw clenched? How impossibly deep his voice can go, both when it’s raspy with sleep and when he’s fully at ease? Will the Namjoon in the story be closer to the Namjoon you know, or the version of himself he presents to the public?

And you’ve known him a long time—long enough that there are few secrets between you, but you don’t know the most intimate parts. All the parts the internet loves to speculate on. All the little gaps that, apparently, need to be filled in by fanfiction.

Will they know what Namjoon looks like when he gets off?

No, you scold yourself, jerking awkwardly like you’ve been burned, and neither will you.

Because you are not going to think about this. Your thoughts are not going to go there. Namjoon is your friend, and you’ve listened to him scold an endless amount of men on the podcast for exactly this behavior. Sexualizing their friends. You’re not going to do it, too.

Maybe that’s why you’re kind of seeing double when it comes time to record. Namjoon needed an extra shot and offered you one as well. You’d necked it without a second thought and now you’re here, trying to ignore the slight tilt of the room as Namjoon adjusts the camera.

“How’s the shot look?” he asks, gesturing vaguely behind him at his laptop screen because Jungkook had refused to lend you his fancy cameras if he wasn’t allowed to be involved.

It’s a completely normal question.

It’s a question you’ve asked and answered a million times.

Except—there’s something horribly distracting about Namjoon in this moment. The outline of his back muscles through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The way the sleeves are tight around his biceps. He’s always been a gym rat, always carries around a protein shake that smells and looks completely foul, but you can’t remember it ever being this obvious.

And you take too long to answer, because Namjoon straightens up just enough to send you a concerned look. Which does not help. You are not imagining what else might cause his brows to pinch like that, what might have his lips parting, have sweat dotting his hairline.

You swallow. Hard.

“Looks fine,” you manage to say. He’s still staring. Are you on fire? You feel like you’re on fire, which would make sense. Would explain Namjoon’s sweating and concerned stare and the fact that he cannot stop staring at you. “Maybe a tiny bit to the right if we’re being picky,” you tack on, hoping it’ll break whatever spell the two of you are ensnared in.

It works. “To the—the right, yeah, makes sense,” he rambles.

He moves it an inch to the left.

—

Things are tense, to say the least.

Recording hasn’t been this awkward since your first episode, or maybe ever. You’re sat across from one another like you always are, and usually Namjoon would be making quip after quip by now, talking endlessly until Jungkook shushed him long enough to get the intro filmed. Now, there’s just silence.

“Should we…?” Namjoon startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table and drops a string of curses. “Sorry, are you—”

“I’m fine,” he says, cutting you off. He gestures vaguely toward the camera. “I’ll just… yeah.”

Showtime.

You wipe your hands on your jeans, unsure of when they got so damp. Unsure of when you’d grown so nervous, too, because you’d been fine an hour ago. Had strolled in with two cups of tea and a little too much confidence, giddy at what you were about to do.

Maybe the nerves had shown up alongside the alcohol. This sounds reasonable, and you do not, under any circumstance or for any reason, think about Namjoon’s back. Or his biceps.

Namjoon makes it through the intro, dimples deep and wide as he smiles, and you also don’t think about the way his voice cracks and gets a little breathy when he introduces you. It’s only because he’d been drinking, and the flush on his cheeks attests to that. The same flush that creeps down his neck, still a little sweaty; disappears beneath the hemline of his shirt.

“—Jungkook had. Right, Piper?”

Now it’s your turn to startle, and there’s not much you can do to hide the obvious except ask Namjoon to redo the shot. Because it’s bad enough the internet already overanalyzes every move you make, every word choice, every instance you’ve stared at Namjoon a second longer than they thought you would—this is a blatant display of… affectedness.

“Sorry,” you say, “I wasn't paying attention. Can we redo it?”

You’re expecting a playful scolding. A ha ha, get it together, because that’s what you usually get. But there’s nothing aside from Namjoon studying you and nodding. Asking if you’re okay. Saying, “Is this—this is weird, right? Is it too weird? Maybe we shouldn’t—”

An out. Namjoon is giving you an out, and you should take it, you know you should take it, so there’s absolutely no reason at all you shake your head and say, “No, no, it’s fine! I think I’m just a little, uh. Drunk?”

“Are you sure? We can—”

“It’s fine, Joon,” you insist. “Besides, it’ll be good content, right?”

“Good content,” he parrots. “Yeah, for sure.” He fidgets in his seat, runs his hands down the span of his thighs. Very, very thick thighs. “I’ll grab us some water.”

You faceplant onto the table as soon as he’s out of the room. When did his thighs get so thick?

But the water helps. Cures whatever strange, insatiable thirst has come over you, because you feel much more human after a few glasses. Less drunk, too, which makes sense. Yoongi could barely escape your drunken, horny wrath when the two of you were together, so you chalk it up to a Pavlovian response.

Namjoon does the intro again. Introduces you strong and steady, not a hint of nerves, and explains, with a fresh blush taking over his upper body, what the episode’s going to be about. “Someone wrote fanfiction about us,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s, uh, pretty explicit. Jungkook thought it’d be funny if we read it.”

You snort. “He might get fired, depending on how this goes.”

“He should get fired regardless,” Namjoon deadpans. “Anyway, we have permission from the author to read this so don’t come after us, and, as always, we’ll put all the credits in the video description.”

“Special shoutout to Jungkook, though, who was not allowed to be here with us for this momentous occasion.”

Namjoon laughs. “I’m sure he’s having plenty of fun at home.” You both pause. “That’s not—I’m not implying anything with that! I just meant—you know, like. He’s hanging out and enjoying his day off.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Moving on. I have two copies of this. Do you want your own?”

You grin, wicked and wide. “Nah, just read it to me.”

“Making me do all the work,” he huffs. “Typical.”

“There’s a stack of papers in front of you that might say otherwise.”

It’s clear you catch him off-guard. He cocks an eyebrow, opens and shuts his mouth a few times like a goldfish. An obvious question sits on the tip of his tongue: You think you’d be in charge? Instead he coughs, jerks his head to the side, and says, “I guess we’ll see.”

It sounds like a challenge.

Thirty seconds is all you get before Namjoon’s shuffling his stack of papers and clearing his throat. Asking if you’re ready and jumping right into it once you say you are. Reads the first few lines like they’re some old lecture notes, and they’re conservative and safe-for-work enough that you start to relax.

And then Namjoon reads, “A louder one wonders if Namjoon is a pet name person—if he’d call her ‘honey,’ or ‘gummy bear,’ ‘babe,’ or ‘baby,’” and you choke.

“Gummy bear?”

Namjoon laughs along with you—the weird one that almost sounds like a dog panting. “You want me to call you gummy bear?”

“I want you to call me a Lyft,” you snark. “I’m leaving.”

He continues:

And that’s how it starts, wandering thoughts, wandering fingers—the first time Piper comes to the thought of Namjoon calling her baby, pushing inside her, showing her that he definitely doesn’t beg, but she does… Well, she’s a little ashamed. She’s apparently got a reputation to maintain, anyway, not to mention a friendship.

His eyes leave the paper and lock onto you. “Or maybe you’d prefer baby?”

“Fuck off.”

Weeks after that first time, it’s become a habit, thinking about Namjoon as something more than a friend. It’s confusing and a little mortifying and it’s starting to affect her in ways she hadn’t expected. When they record, she feels fidgety—she’s jumpy when he gets close, has all the stupid obvious tells of an unwanted crush: her breath hitches when he whispers (why the fuck is he whispering in her ear, anyway? Doesn’t he know what that does to a person?) inside jokes to her so Jungkook can’t hear, her heart rate spikes when their fingers accidentally brush, she feels itchy and hot and a little embarrassed whenever he holds eye contact with her. It’s terrible, and it’s only made worse by the way he’s doing all of those things more than usual. Or, at least she thinks he is, thinks she’s not imagining the way his eyes linger on her more than she can remember happening before or the way she’s caught him staring at her lips when she chews on the end of her pencil mindlessly.

You’ve completely forgotten how to breathe.

Namjoon’s staring again. You need to salvage this. He’s only on paragraph three and you’re already squirming in your chair and imagining things that are not appropriate. So you roll your lips, return his teasing. “Well? Do you stare at my lips?”

It works. “No,” he scowls.

“You sure?” you joke, morphing your face into something half-pout, half-duck face.

“We’re never gonna finish this if you keep making comments.”

“You started it,” you point out. “Go on, then.”

There’s some dialogue. Some prose that hits way too close to home, has you wondering who on earth wrote this and how they plucked every single thought from deep within your psyche. A pang of fear that maybe you haven’t been as subtle as you’d thought all these years. A moment to confirm to yourself that, no, you haven’t been harboring a secret, deeply-buried crush on Namjoon.

Then he reads—

And then he kisses her. It’s greedy and hot, his lips like a branding iron. She moans a little against her better judgment when he licks at the seam of her mouth, and in return, she can feel Namjoon’s lips curve into a smile against her own. It’s better than she’d been imagining it, really. He’s a good kisser—firm at the right times, soft when she needs it, careful but not cautious. He holds her jaw with one hand and keeps her right where he wants her beneath him (as if she’d want to move, anyway). When their lips finally part, he rests his forehead on hers. It’s intimate in a way she hadn’t expected, and he looks at her as if she’s the answer to every question. Finally, he whispers, “What’re we doing, Piper?” His lips are still wet and pink and a little swollen from kissing, and she barely hears the question—she’s too busy thinking about kissing him again, about pulling his plump bottom lip between her teeth, teasing and… “Kissing,” she says finally. “What do you want?” he asks, sinking to his knees in front of her. And if that alone isn’t an answer to his question… “Whatever you’re willing to give,” she replies. It feels like she’s wanted this forever, this and so much more. Once she got the idea in her head, it’s hard to know if she ever felt differently, ever truly thought they could just be friends. Or, if in the back of her mind, in the dark corners that she never lets see daylight, she always knew she wanted Namjoon. Always knew she loved him.

—and everything goes right out the fucking window.

Namjoon sits with those words for a moment. Scans the paper in his hands and frowns a little when he confirms what you already know. “The rest is, uh. Porn.”

“That is why we’re here.”

“Last chance to back out.”

“I’m not scared,” you lie. “Are you? You’re the one who keeps stalling.”

He huffs. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he retorts, and then nothing is all that funny anymore.

Because Namjoon was right: the rest is straight-up porn. He’s barely able to read the part where he goes down on you with a straight face, turning a deep shade of crimson. Stutters through the part where you pull his hair, and that is not something you needed to know about your friend. You think he loses his grasp of language entirely when he reads, “When he slides a long finger into her and brushes past her most sensitive spot, she arches into him and lets his name fall from her lips in a soft cry. Piper, notorious skeptic, is a babbling, trembling mess as she gets closer to her orgasm,” because all the words are garbled together, producing nothing but gibberish. You think he’s ready to keel over and die when he reads, “Namjoon pulls away briefly, lips slick with her juices, and licks over his top one, pausing to tell her how good she tastes before he dives back in.”

“That was nice of them to include. I appreciate their attention to detail in regards to my personal hygiene.”

“This is so embarrassing,” he whines.

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Gimme. I’ll finish it.” He hands over the papers immediately.

Except you regret it immediately. The words you’re staring at are not words you ever thought you’d read or recite in your entire life. Not even for a million dollars. “Oh,” you say instead.

“See? Not as easy as it looks.”

“This is really embarrassing,” you confirm. “I might need another shot.”

“Y-yeah. Alcohol sounds good.”

Namjoon staggers forward obligingly, looks completely fucked out and pliant, willing to do whatever she asks. She remembers the sounds he made when she pulled his hair, wonders if he likes being bossed around, if he wants her to tell him what to do, to be a little mean to him. Maybe it’s different from her dreams, maybe he will beg her. She wants him so badly, she’d do anything for him. So, she pulls his briefs down to expose his absurdly large member, already mostly hard, and slaps it. Gently at first to see how he’ll react, and when he shudders and jerks his hips, she does it again, a little harder. “Look at you,” she whispers, “such a needy boy.” He whimpers at that, eyes pleading. “Please, Piper…” he whines. “Please what?” “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. She wants to, wants him so much, wants to feel him stretch her open, and from the looks of his cock, thick and long and drooling with precum, he could. “Should I?” she asks. She musters all her confidence to keep the condescending tone up. It feels wrong given how desperate she is to get him inside her, but it also seems to be getting him worked up and equally as desperate. “Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?” Namjoon’s cock twitches, and he begs, “I—I’ll fuck you so good, Piper…. I know how, I promise. Just… please?”

“Oh my god,” the two of you say in unison.

You so badly want to ask if this is biographical. How Namjoon feels about a little degradation; what he’d do if someone actually called his cock stupid. Ifsomeone has called his cock stupid. You dare a glance at him and conclude that someone’s had to. Namjoon just has that kind of energy.

But you can’t ask because it’d be weird, so you keep reading.

“How do you want me?” she asks softly when their lips part. There’s a wild look in his eyes, like he’s processing all the possible options out of everything he’s considered. And then it occurs to her. “Have you imagined this before? Thought about how you’d fuck me?” she teases him as she stands, stepping into him. Piper pushes one hand through his hair, brushing it back off of his forehead and wraps her other around his dick, squeezing a little for emphasis on her words. “Yes,” he groans as she strokes him, thumbing at the head of his cock. “Tell me what you want, then. Want me on all fours for you? Want me to show you how it’s done, to let you lay back and ride you so you don’t have to put in any work?” Namjoon’s breathing is getting heavy, pupils blown wider with each suggestion.

“I told you!” you shriek, laughing in between the words. “I told you I’d…” And then your gloating tapers off, because what happens next has your brain malfunctioning.

“All of that,” he whines as she lets go of his hair and brings her hand down to run a fingertip over his perineum. “Want all of that. Want to bend you over the table and fuck you right here. Hear your sounds in the microphone.” Even in her dirtiest thoughts about him, she hadn’t considered the microphone, hadn’t considered recording it. When she thinks about it though, it makes sense. Namjoon is exactly the kind of person that would get off to someone’s voice. So, she does. She makes a show of turning around and slowly bending over the table, sliding her upper body across it carefully until she can reach her microphone and turn it on. When she says into it, “What’re you waiting for?” she sees over her shoulder the way that Namjoon shivers.

This is… not good. You’re never going to be able to look at a microphone the same way, which is extremely not good for a person who supplements their income with a very popular podcast that requires them to speak into a microphone for extended periods of time.

This is very, very bad.

Namjoon must be thinking the same, because he lets out a strangled a-haaa that’s less of a laugh and more a plea to God, the gods, the entire gamut of higher powers that might be able to save him. No one’s going to, you think, staring down at the paper again. This godless piece of fanfiction will be preserved on the internet forever, will be seared into your mind forever, and no amount of praying is going to erase it.

“I should, uh. Just read the rest, yeah? Get it over with?”

“Mhm. Yep. Yes, please.”

Don’t say please, you almost say. You can’t take it; not after what you’ve just read.

So you put on a show. Steel your expression and your nerves and take it seriously. Use voices and sound effects and desperately try to stave off the awkwardness you know is inevitable because a smut fic is probably only going to end one way, and that’s with you acting out Namjoon having an orgasm.

Maybe you’ll have another one, too, if the author is nice.

It’s sweet, she thinks, the way he’s easy for her, takes his time with her. Strokes his fingertips along her sides and kisses the back of her neck reverently. As much as she loves it, part of her hopes he’s not always like this—hopes he’ll give as good as he takes, hopes he’ll put her in her place. She can feel his cock hard against the cleft of her ass, not even inside her yet, and still, she thinks about next time and the time after that. “Still okay?” He breathes into her ear as his tip rubs against her cunt. “Yeah—want you, Joon.” “Never thought I’d hear you say those words.” “I never thought you’d record them,” she teases, eyes glancing up to the flashing light showing the mic picking up all of this as he starts his slow slide into her. Piper falls even further forward when he bottoms out, letting her forehead rest on the table. He’s whispering filth in her ear, about how he has something to prove, how she’ll never want anyone after this, how no one can fuck her the way he does. She hates that he’s right. Each stroke brings a new sensation: sparklers, butterflies, nerve endings on fire as he fucks into her and licks and sucks at her neck, her shoulders, her ear. Piper can’t even think, and this is what people mean when they talk about being fucked stupid, she decides. It’s perfect. Every time she thinks she’s getting close again, he changes something: fucks her a little shallower, moves his hips just a little, slows down, speeds up… It’s driving her crazy. “Come on,” she whines. “I’m so close…” At least she can tell he is, too. No longer able to sustain the dirty talk, he’s breathing heavily, letting out broken moans and sighs of her name. He’s moving rhythmically now, thrusts consistently faster. “Oh, fuck, Piper,” he groans, “Gonna cum.” One of his hands finds her clit and he rubs careful circles over her, bringing her to her peak along with him, no more teasing. When she comes, it’s with a loud moan into the studio mic, and that seems to be what tips Namjoon over the edge, too. His hips stutter into hers as he comes, her cunt clenching around him for what feels like forever.

You deserve an award, you think. An Oscar. You didn’t even groan when you had to read the word “cunt,” and that’s a feat in and of itself.

“Is it over?” Namjoon asks, words muffled by the hands covering his face.

“Not quite,” you answer. “There’s some aftercare, and at the end you ask if I’ll piss on you.”

Namjoon gags. “I asked you what—”

“Today’s episode has been brought to you by Stamps-dot-com—”

HOLY SHIT THE NEW PATREON EPISODE???????? Posted by u/pod-shipper 4 minutes ago NO WAY. NOOOOOOO FUCKING WAY DUDE THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY THEY DID THIS AS AN ACTUAL EPISODE WHAT THE FUCK WHAT HTE FUCK WHAT EHTU FKF DFGLKDG;L (+705) I wasn’t sure if they were messing around before, and I was quite critical of the “shippers,” but now I’m pretty convinced. (+423) ↳ we’ve been telling y’all for YEARS 😤 (+197) ↳ Glad you’ve seen the light, u/RandomAcorn2058! (+5) ↳ ugh. they weren’t messing around before and they aren’t messing around now. do you guys not listen to what they say? namjoon’s been dating, and piper got out of a six-year relationship just over a year ago. if they’ve had something going on for “years” that means they’re both cheaters, and that’s a really shitty thing to assume about them. not to mention it makes the entire point of the podcast moot. (-63) Why do you guys think Jungkook “wasn’t allowed” to be there? (+314) ↳ So they could fuck lmao it’s so obvious (+329) ↳ because it’s awkward af? would you wanna read porn about yourself w all your coworkers in the room? (+2) ↳ the “it’s awkward” excuse is sooooo lame he’s the one who found it and is the one who edited the episode, he’s gonna see it regardless. (+15) ↳ Tbh I’m more curious about how he even found it to begin with? Do they have a throuple thing going on? Like, why was he looking for smut fic about his bosses? (+38)

You do not get through recording unscathed.

You are very scathed. Perhaps the most scathed a person has ever been.

Jungkook texts the group chat sporadically throughout the week, cracking jokes and making memes at your and Namjoon’s expense which is par for the course and shouldn’t have you off-kilter, but something inside you feels deeply wrong. Feels like someone’s given you devastating news; feels like it used to back in uni when you knew you’d failed an exam and were just waiting to see how badly.

It both helps and doesn’t that the internet is so invested. All the clips Jungkook keeps posting have re-doubled your Patreon numbers, and jumping up a tax bracket never hurt anyone, you included. But all of those jokes and memes largely went unanswered by both you and Namjoon, still too close to the incident to find the humor in it from the other side.

The two of you had sex.

Not literally, of course, but you figure you might as well have with the way you’re feeling. The way you’re avoiding one another. Someone wrote a story about the two of you having sex and you both read it and something about that, days later, feels really fucking unsettling.

In a bad way? You aren’t sure. It’s not like you’re mad or upset or any other synonym. You just feel… off. Itchy from the inside out, and that’s far from the norm in your and Namjoon’s friendship. In all the years you’ve known one another, you’ve never once avoided each other, including the time you’d set him up with a close friend and he showed up 45 minutes late to their date and ghosted after.

(Unsurprisingly, that friendship had not lasted.)

Maybe it’s because Yoongi had always been there as a buffer. You aren’t of the belief that men and women cannot be platonic friends, but being in a years-long committed relationship nixed a lot of awkward interactions and assumptions off the bat. Even Namjoon had known Yoongi first. Had introduced himself to you in your shared 100-level psych course with a, “Hey, you’re Min Yoongi’s girlfriend, right?” because they ran in the same underground circles and Namjoon had idolized him from afar for years.

Pretty fucked up, then, that Yoongi’s off in Los Angeles with his hot new boyfriend and you’re on your couch, Holly at your feet, pointedly ignoring your texts.

“I’m gonna get a cat,” you say to the dog, trying to redirect his attention when he starts chewing on your sock again. Holly doesn’t offer any input, of course, and he’s a lot like his father in that way. “I can’t believe you have a stepfather. You’re a proper child of divorce now, Min Holly.”

There are a pile of unread texts you continue to ignore in lieu of showing Holly pictures of adoptable cats. A few more memes from Jungkook, one from Namjoon’s new phone asking to move the recording date a few days because “something came up at work,” one from the food delivery service you admittedly use too much offering 10% off your next order, and two from Yoongi. This reminded me of you, the first one says beneath a picture of an ice cream cone on the ground, and another one of him holding a water gun that says send me a picture of my son or else.

You eventually reply back with a picture of your middle finger, Holly nothing but a blurred brown blob in the corner of the frame.

That’s how it goes for the better part of a week. Namjoon’s work issue lasts four days. He doesn’t offer an explanation and you don’t ask for one, you just wait for the all-clear text and try to quiet the nerves once you get it.

You’ve never been nervous to see Namjoon before.

The more popular the podcast became, the more money rolled in. The more money that rolled in, the more you could afford nicer things. That meant going from recording in Namjoon’s living room to a bona fide office space. Third floor, an expanse of windows and natural light, thirty-five minute commute by train.

Today, it feels more like thirty-five seconds.

You can hear Jungkook’s witch cackle from the stairwell, and your mind fills in the blanks of Namjoon’s exasperated sigh. It helps, your brain reminding you that you know these people. You know this is Jungkook’s late gym day, so he’ll be in a pair of sweats and a hoodie that drowns his frame. You know that when Namjoon has work issues and feels like an inconvenience, he always shows up with two boxes of baked goods from the bakery near his place, and you know both of them will save the best donut for you.

So you walk in and Jungkook’s in a hoodie and sweats just like you expect him to be, and there are two boxes of baked goods next to the coffee machine. Both of them say hello and wave and, for all intents and purposes, everything is normal.

Except it isn’t.

Because Namjoon looks… different.

Not in a bad way. Not in a bad way. He almost always dresses nicely, always looks polished and put-together, usually because he’s either going to or coming from campus—fitted shirts, either of the tee or dress variety, and earth-toned cardigans; tailored trousers that are sometimes corduroy; polished loafers. Sometimes, if he’s feeling extra casual, a stark white pair of tennis shoes.

Today, he wears none of those things.

No, today torture comes in the form of form-fitting jeans and a t-shirt a little oversized so he can roll the sleeves. His hair is brushed back off his face instead of parted down the middle. He’s wearing gold jewelry that glints in the sun. A pair of off-white Converse high-tops. And, much to your horror, he’s also wearing his glasses.

According to the internet, Kim Namjoon is peak husband material, which you can usually ignore, but not when he’s wearing glasses.

You avert your gaze, convinced you’ll burst into flames if you stare too long, not to mention Jungkook will notice and that’s a ribbing you’d rather die than take. So you avert your gaze and pointedly ignore Namjoon, who’s talking about his work crisis to no one in particular. Something about a co-worker going on an unexpectedly early paternity leave, and Namjoon being asked to cover some of his courses until they could find a more permanent fix.

Jungkook asks a question you don’t catch. Because paternity leave means his co-worker and his partner had a baby, presumably via old-fashioned methods, and it’s not a direct mention of sex but it’s close enough to send you into a coughing fit you have to blame on your donut. Neither of them buy it, but Namjoon is a good enough person to look genuinely concerned. Reaches out, probably to slap your back, but the thought of him touching you is just… too much.

So he barely gets out an, “Are you o—” before you choke down whatever’s left in your mouth and cut him off with a, “Yep, all good!” before you’re scurrying off to the opposite side of the room like a little rat.

It doesn’t get any better.

Both of you are so stilted and awkward during recording that Jungkook has to be the voice of reason and call it, suggest trying again tomorrow. Luckily he has enough b-side stuff he can release if need be, Namjoon’s work emergency providing a decent cover, and he sends the two of you home for the afternoon with all the exasperation and incredulity of a disappointed parent.

Thirty-five minutes back home.

Thirty-five minutes to sit in the embarrassment of not being able to do your job. Thirty-five minutes to catastrophize and wonder what you’re going to do if you can’t get it together. Namjoon will keep the podcast, of course; you’ll be replaced with someone else. Maybe someone less cynical, maybe someone more, but undoubtedly a man. After this mess, you can’t imagine Namjoon would want another female co-host.

But as embarrassed as you are, your traitorous brain keeps thinking about Namjoon.

Thirty-five minutes to think about his glasses and his rolled-up sleeves and the way the denim of his jeans contoured perfectly to his thighs. Thirty-five minutes to think about, “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. Thirty-five minutes to squeeze your thighs together and overanalyze the way he stumbled over his words today; how he could barely make eye contact. Thirty-five minutes to draft a dozen resignation texts and delete them all.

You groan, head thunking against the train window. You’ll take a cold shower as soon as you get home.

That’ll cure you.

You get home and walk Holly so long he gives up halfway through and you have to carry him back to your apartment. You take a cold shower and actually find it pleasant once the initial shock wears off, so it doesn’t work to keep all your rogue Namjoon thoughts at bay. You make a simple dinner and don’t think about Namjoon sitting you on the counter and having his way with you. You tuck yourself into bed far too early and consider going back to therapy, because clearly something very, very bad has happened to your psyche.

Needless to say, nothing cures you.

But it’s a new day, and you’re determined to get your shit together. Yesterday was a fluke, because you’re so normal and so capable of being in the same room as Kim Namjoon.

Except—you’re not.

Jungkook’s there when you arrive, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Barely looks up at you to say hello, and barely returns it when you do. You double-check the time, because you can count on two fingers the amount of times you’ve shown up and Namjoon wasn’t already there, jotting down extensively-detailed notes, circling and highlighting and chasing down Jungkook to ask questions.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Dunno. Not here.”

You roll your eyes. “Super helpful, thanks.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes right back. “You don’t pay me enough to also be his handler.”

You bite your tongue. Arguing with Jungkook means you’ve already lost the war. Not worth it. But it still eases your worries a bit that he doesn’t know any more than you do. That Namjoon hadn’t only texted him to say why he was running late because he didn’t want to—or couldn’t—talk to you.

So you wait. And you wait and you wait and you wait. Jungkook lets you talk to people on his dating apps and tells you about his new gym routine until your eyes are glazing over. Orders food delivery for the two of you because he gets hungry after an hour and had already eaten what was left of the snacks before you arrived. Cracks a joke that isn’t really a joke about calling the police, because Namjoon still hasn’t shown up and he hasn’t said anything and none of your texts are showing as delivered.

You’re halfway to hour two when the office door bursts open and Namjoon stumbles through, soaked with sweat and stammering over apologies.

“I am so sor—I broke my phone again so my alarm never went off and then I missed my bus? And apparently they’re not running the regular bus schedule today so the next one was a half-hour wait, but then I…”

You don’t catch the rest, because Namjoon is covered in sweat and breathing heavily and a week ago you could’ve survived this. A week ago you would’ve cracked a joke and handed him a towel and told him to get to work. A week ago you would not have been paralyzed in your seat, transfixed on the sweat rolling down the side of his neck.

You are fucked beyond belief.

Jungkook elbows you in the ribs, bringing you back to reality. “...even paying attention?” You startle, face warming in embarrassment. Namjoon still isn’t looking at you. “This is so sad to watch,” Jungkook mumbles, and thankfully it’s only loud enough for you to hear. “Like some stupid shit you only see in nature documentaries.”

Well, you can’t really argue with that, now can you?

But you’re a professional above all, so you hum an acknowledgment and take your regular seat. Pointedly ignore Jungkook. Wait for Namjoon to assume his position as well, and you’re surprised to see the space in front of him empty. No notes. No script. There’s just… nothing.

“Are you okay?” you ask, gesturing to the space in front of him when he seems confused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a stack of notes in front of you.”

“I forgot them.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that, either.”

Your tone is light and airy, not at all accusing or confrontational, but Namjoon’s jaw clenches nonetheless. He scoffs, fires a shitty little, “Were you not paying attention when I was talking about what a horrible fucking morning I’ve had?” at you that makes even Jungkook flinch. A few moments of stunned silence, and then, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, that was rude—”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, and all of a sudden you feel too big for your body. Feel like there are ants beneath your skin, feel like everything is wrong, and you don’t want to be here anymore. “It’s fine. Let’s just—”

Namjoon looks like he wants to argue, but he just sighs and says, “I—yeah, okay.”

This is where Namjoon would usually launch into the intro, a dimpled smile already plastered on his face that’d drop as he discussed another failed first date with that brand of self-deprecation that makes him so endearing. This is where he’d say what have you been up to, Pipe, and you’d try not to groan because how hard could it possibly be to add one more letter, another syllable, but Namjoon seems incapable of it. This is the part that, for three years, has been seamless and easy and instinctual, just two friends having a conversation.

There’s a red light on your microphones that indicates you’re recording. It’s on and it mocks you, because Namjoon is not doing the intro or telling you about a failed date. He doesn’t use that cringey nickname. He doesn’t say anything at all. His mouth opens and shuts and no words come out. What’s worse is that you know exactly why he can’t speak, because you’re thinking about it, too.

“So, uh,” you begin, and Jungkook makes a gagging sound from behind you. “Come here often?”

Namjoon ignores you. “Right, right, the intro…” He sucks in a breath. “Welcome back to another episode of Put Him in the Trash, I’m—”

“Joon—”

“Namjoon, and my co-host here is—”

“Joon, that’s not—”

“Piper. Wait, why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s not the name of our podcast.”

“Huh?”

“You said Put Him in the Trash.” Namjoon just blinks. “It’s Place Him Gently in the Garbage.”

“Is it? Since when?”

“Since forever?”

He looks at Jungkook, who is hiding behind his hands. “Is she right?”

A beat of silence. “I can’t do this,” he half-shouts, half-whines. “Are you two going to be like this forever? Because if you are, I’m quitting. I’m so serious. I’m gonna quit. I can’t take it anymore. The two of you are insufferable.” Another beat of silence, before Jungkook stands at full height and lords over you and Namjoon. “Forget today. Just go home and try again on Monday. This is so—I’m seriously gonna quit.”

Yoongi comes on Saturday afternoon to pick up Holly.

Yijeong isn’t with him, which is almost disappointing. Now that he’s dating again, you were looking forward to seeing just how awkward it could get with the three of you in the same room, but he looks good. Refreshed. The trip clearly did a world of good for him, and you can’t even bring yourself to crack a joke at his expense.

He, however, has no such hang-ups. “You look like shit.”

“Weird way to say thank you.” You click your tongue and look down at Holly. “Do you see how your father treats me? You should bite him.”

“My son would never. But also, thank you.” He flops onto the sofa. “You do look like shit, though. You wanna talk about it?”

“Not with you, preferably.”

“Oh, gross, is it a dating thing, then?”

“I—no.” You pause. It’s not a dating thing, but you still feel like you’ve got motion sickness whenever you think about it. How would you even begin to explain this to Yoongi, anyway? Someone wrote a porn fic about me and Namjoon. You remember Namjoon, right? Namjoon, that I’ve known and have been friends with since college. Yeah, that Namjoon. Anyway, someone wrote fanfiction about us having sex, and it fucked me up so bad I can no longer be in the same room as him.

No fucking way.

“You look like you’re holding in a fart.”

“You know, I’m getting really sick of you. Did you just come here to insult me?”

He snorts, but his smirk dissipates a few seconds later, a familiar seriousness filling the void. “We’re okay, right? Was the Yijeong thing too soon?”

“No,” you answer immediately, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “We’re fine, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.” He still looks doubtful. “You want me to start singing ‘I Will Always Love You’ or something? It’s just… weird work stuff.”

“Depends. Are you singing the Dolly Parton or Whitney version? And real work or podcast work?”

“Podcast work, and obviously the Whitney version.”

Yoongi seems surprised by this, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe. “Like, the podcast with Namjoon?” He presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek when you nod your head. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Like I said, it’s weird. It wasn’t, like, an argument or anything.”

“How weird?”

“You’re so fake, Min Yoongi. You act like you’re so distinguished and above drama, but really you’re just as hungry for gossip as the rest of us.”

He shrugs. “I’m not denying it.”

God help you, you’re going to rip off the band-aid. “Someone… Jesus, this is so embarrassing. Someone… wrote? Fanfiction? About us.”

“About you and Namjoon?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god—”

“About us… uh. Having sex? Specifically.”

“Oh my god—”

“Jungkook found it and thought it’d be funny if we read it for an episode.”

“Oh my god?”

“So we did? And it was really weird, which I expected, because I’ve known Namjoon for a long time, and I never, ever thought about having sex with him because we were together and me and Namjoon are friends, so yeah, it was fucking weird. But now… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about it? And now we can’t even be in the same room as one another.” Yoongi is a concerning shade of red. “So our show is gonna get canceled, because we can only release b-side stuff for so long until people realize something’s up, and it was Namjoon’s podcast to begin with so obviously I’ll get fired—”

“Oh my god, you want to fuck Namjoon.”

Yoongi sounds like a strangled cat when he says this, which does not help the way you feel like you’ve been hit square in the face with a frying pan. “No,” you argue, though it sounds more like a question. You do not want to fuck Namjoon. “No, no. No. It’s just because it was weird.”

“Did you forget I dated you for six years? I know what you look like when you want to fuck someone.”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t be weird if someone wrote fanfiction about you fucking your friend?”

“Not if I didn’t actually want to fuck them, no.”

“You’re a liar. Get your dog and get out of my apartment.”

Yoongi laughs as he stands. Pats you on the back in the most condescending way you’ve ever had someone pat you on the back. “Let me know how it goes. No need to give me credit for your moment of horny clarity.”

Min Yoongi is a bastard.

Unfortunately, as you come to find out, he’s also a correct bastard.

You want to fuck Namjoon.

Which is… not great, you have to admit, considering he can barely stand to be around you, so you take another cold shower and decide you’re going to take this to your grave. You’re going to spend the rest of the weekend getting your shit together, and you’re going to show up on Monday and be a consummate professional. You’re going to look at Namjoon and say, ha ha, isn’t it so funny someone thought we would have sex? I don’t think about it at all because I am so cool and normal about it.

You’ve got it all planned out. You’re going to show up fifteen minutes early with your own box of pastries. You’re going to look nice, if not a little pretentious—maybe a nice sweater. You’re going to be prepared with notes of your own. You might even be nice to the villain of the week so Namjoon doesn’t have to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh at you.

And then someone knocks on your door.

You find Namjoon on the other side, and all your plans immediately go to shit.

Has he always been this tall? You can’t remember. You can’t remember a lot of things, including how to speak, because Yoongi had launched you into a crisis of epic proportions and now here’s the source of it, standing right in front of you. With all of his… height. And thighs. And that heady, musky cologne he always wears, that you can still smell now even though there’s an unfortunate amount of distance between you.

“Uh, hi.”

You blink. “Hi,” you parrot, and it’s a little insulting how one single word seems to have sucked up all of your brainpower. “Namjoon,” you tack on, not awkward at all.

“Sorry to just show up,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. Very bad idea; makes his biceps bulge. You barely swallow your whimper. “It’s just—my phone’s still broken, and it felt bad leaving things how we did? So I was hoping we could talk.”

Talk. Namjoon wants to talk to you. Normally: not a problem. Currently: big problem. You manage a nod, open the door wider to let him in, and you don’t think about how jarring it is to have Namjoon in your space. You don’t think about how your legs feel like jelly all of a sudden, or what it’d be like if Namjoon bent you over the couch, or the kitchen counter, or the—

You cough. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh, sure. Maybe just some water if you have it.”

If you have it. What kind of person doesn’t have water? But you tell him to make himself comfortable and get him some anyway, and you mull too long over the size of the glass. Ultimately decide on a smaller one, because if things get unbearably awkward you can excuse yourself to the kitchen to get more.

“I haven’t been here in a while,” Namjoon says from the living room, and when you look up he’s sorting through a stack of books near the window. Some he’d lent you months ago, notes jotted in the corners, sticky notes in the shape of sea animals on important pages. “You ever wind up reading this?”

The Idiot. Namjoon had raved about it when he was in the midst of his 19th century Russian phase, right after he’d read a bunch of Tolstoy and Pushkin. You shake your head—though, judging from the title, you wonder if someone hadn’t written your biography.

“It’s good. If you have the time, you should definitely give it a shot.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, handing over his water. You take a seat in an armchair, pull your knees to your chest. Namjoon’s still looking through your books, isn’t looking at you, so it feels safe to say, “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” He moves to sit on the floor, massive thighs spreading until he’s comfortable. Thank god he can’t see the look on your face. “I just wanted to make sure we’re alright. Things have felt pretty weird since we filmed the, uh.” He coughs. “Thing.”

“Right, yeah.” You realize he’s waiting for an answer, and you offer up a very rushed, “We’re fine, Joon.”

“Are you sure?”

Yeah, you’re sure: sure you absolutely cannot be having this conversation in the safety and sanctity of your own home. It’s tainted now, contaminated by all your uncontrolled horny thoughts about the man in front of you. You’ll have to fumigate. Might have to pick up and move, actually, or call an exorcist.

“I’m sure,” you assure him. “The… thing… was weird, but it’s fine. Temporary.”

“Do you think we shouldn’t have done it?”

That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Because, in isolation, reading a porn fic about yourselves wasn’t a big deal. No one got hurt. Everyone who needed to be consulted was consulted. The episode made the two of you a lot of money, and Jungkook even promised to send some of it to the author, so your bases are beyond covered.

So, should you have done it? There wasn’t a good enough reason not to, because the story itself was never the problem.

The problem is staring you right in the face. It’s sitting on your floor, a book cracked in half at the spine and forgotten in his lap. The problem is looking at you like you hold all the answers to the universe’s secrets, and it’s no small thing to be looked at like that. The problem is that Namjoon is looking at you like that from across the room but you’re wondering what it’d look like from on top of you.

The problem is that you’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, have known him even longer, and you’ve just realized today that you want to have sex with him.

And you can’t say that, can you, because Namjoon came here to fix things which really does not lend itself to a hookup. Namjoon cares about your friendship and your working relationship so much he came here to try and salvage it, so you’re going to keep your mouth shut. You’re going to say, “I think it’s okay that we did,” and leave it at that. Because it is okay.

Because you’re the problem.

It feels like a small victory when Namjoon sags in relief. When he exhales and says, “Okay, good, because I think so, too.”

“It made us a lot of money,” you tack on.

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he laughs. “Right? Like, that was almost too much money. Just to watch us read porn?”

“About ourselves. I think that was the selling point.”

He stands. You do, too. “Never thought I’d be doing that,” he says, returning the book to where it belongs. “Definitely the most embarrassing thing I’ve done for money.”

“Being a man with a podcast wasn’t embarrassing enough?”

He snorts. Gets closer to the door. “Hey now.” You’re going to survive this. “Thanks for entertaining me, by the way. For a second there I was really worried we’d fucked it all up.”

Just the ending. Just one more thing to say and you’ll be done with this, and then you can take your third cold shower in recent memory and triple text Yoongi with a full-fledged mental breakdown. Maybe he’ll bring Holly back and you can register him as your emotional support animal.

And Namjoon must sense the awkwardness that’s crept back in, because he tries to cover it with a joke. Says, “Haaa, like you’d actually piss on me, right?”

Except it sounds like he’s got a mouth full of marbles.

It’s no wonder you mishear him.

Because he says like you’d actually piss on me but you hear like you’d actually kiss me, and there isn’t a universe that exists in which the following makes sense: you, stunned into silence in the doorframe, Namjoon saying his goodbyes, you thinking fuck it, last chance and saying, “Yeah, I’d kiss you.”

Namjoon stops dead in his tracks. “What?”

Your entire body is on fire. “Is, uh. Is that not what you said?”

“I don’t think it matters anymore what I said.”

“I’d argue that it does, for the sake of my digni—”

“You’d kiss me?” Namjoon… doesn’t look put off of the idea, which is surely a point in your favor. Interesting to note that his diction is crystal clear, now. Bastard. “You’d kiss me right now?”

There’s also no explanation for the way you say: “It’s only been an option for ten seconds and you’re already begging for it?”

You’d say there’s no explanation for the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches, the way he repeats I don’t beg for anything, but maybe the simple fact is: the two of you want to fuck each other. And, judging from the way Namjoon crowds your space, keeps dropping his gaze to your mouth, it seems very likely to happen.

All that fixating you’d done on Namjoon’s thighs was wasted, you think, as you take in the shape of his mouth. His lips. The way his tongue darts out to run along the bottom at the last second before he reaches out, tilts your head up, and finally presses his mouth to yours.

And you’ve got to laugh, because no piece of written fiction could ever accurately portray what it feels like. How soft his lips are. The way he touches you—gentle, but still dominant enough to have you moving the way he wants, have you backing up into your apartment so he can smile against your mouth as he closes the door behind him.

No piece of fiction would get it right, the way you’re unsteady on your feet, breathless at the way Namjoon’s kissing you. How he only breaks apart long enough to ask where do you want me in that throaty, deep voice of his. How you’re so overwhelmed you can’t decide: unsure if you want to waste the time it’d take to get to your bedroom, but if it’s only going to happen once, wanting to make it count.

So you decide to risk it. Plant your hands in the middle of his exceptionally broad chest and push him in the direction of the hallway, and if the two of you can’t wait, can’t control yourselves, well.

But the story had gotten one thing right: Namjoon does kiss like a branding iron, hot and greedy. Namjoon kisses you like there’s nothing else he wants to do in this lifetime, and it makes you dizzy. Has you off-kilter, stumbling into the wall as you try to remember where the fuck your bedroom is and why it’s so far. Just like the fictional version of you, you also moan when he licks into your mouth.

“Should I do it the way we did in the fic?” Namjoon asks as the two of you cross the threshold into your bedroom, a cheeky grin on his face. “Do it like this?” he questions, pushing you gently until you’re on the back in the middle of your bed, chest heaving as you lift your head to look at him.

Namjoon is so, so big from where you lay, just hovering at the foot of your bed. Cheeks ruddy, bulge prominent. “What’d you say you wanted?”

Takes a second to remember how to breathe, let alone what you’d read. What do you want, Namjoon had asked, right before he’d sank to his knees in front of you. “Whatever you’re willing to give,” you answer.

Namjoon smiles. Puts one knee on the bed, and the way it dips beneath his weight is unsettling. Why does he have to be so fucking large. “That’s right, baby.” Christ, you think, because there’s another thing that fic had gotten right. No one on earth would be immune to Namjoon calling them baby in that tone of voice.

The riposte biting at the back of your teeth gets swallowed whole as Namjoon grabs your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed. “May I?” he asks, hands poised above the waistline of your leggings. You nod, and Namjoon drags down your underwear with them. “Fuck, look at you,” he groans, awe creeping into the edge of his words.

“You want me to do it the same way? Hm? You’re being awfully quiet; thought you were giving me shit about being the one in charge,” he chides.

Because you’re short-circuiting. Namjoon’s on his knees, just like you’d envisioned, and his mouth is dangerously close to your cunt. How can you be expected to think and speak under these conditions? But if Namjoon can find the brainpower to be a bastard, so can you, because what you’d read and the way he’d reacted can both never be forgotten. So you thread your hands into his hair and pull. The resulting moan is enough to sustain you for years.

“Are you gonna keep running your mouth, or are you gonna make me come on it?”

He blinks. “Jesus Christ.”

There’s precedent. Fictional Namjoon ate you out like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough. Had fictional you writhing and insatiable, so it’s a lot to live up to, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest. He hesitates for only a second, giving you one last chance to back out before the two of you set every last boundary on fire, and then he’s settling between your thighs and making you see stars.

Now you know what it’s like. Now you don’t have to rely on fiction, and it doesn’t matter because it’d never compare to the way Namjoon feels as he works to bring you to your ruin. The way he flattens his tongue to lick long, thick stripes; the way his lips suction around your clit. The way it feels when he groans against your core. The way he says, “Fuck, you do taste good,” like that’s a completely normal thing to say. Like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you.

But you need more and Namjoon knows it. His mouth doesn’t leave your cunt for a second, but his fingers find your mouth, so you put on a show. Wrap your lips around them, suck on them the way he’s doing to you, make sure they’re slick. Namjoon groans again, doubles his efforts. Slides one thick finger inside of you and barely lets you adjust before he’s adding a second.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, Namjoon has you unraveling. Presses incessantly on a spot that has your vision whiting out. Has you trembling, a little panicked as you say, “Joon, fuck—Namjoon, wait—” as it builds and builds and builds.

You might black out for a second, because you come to and Namjoon looks… stunned. He looks like he can’t believe any of what just happened, and you blink a few times, try to come back into your body, and when you regain enough consciousness, you’re extremely aware of the large wet patch beneath you.

“Um—”

“Holy shit.”

“Namjoon, that’s not—that’s embarrassing—can you grab a—”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Presses the taste of you into your skin, and all those silly protests die in your throat, because if Namjoon was needy before, he’s desperate now. Covers your body with his own, hips dipping down low enough to press his erection into the juncture of your thigh, and the weight of him is delicious. Has you fisting the fabric of his t-shirt to pull him closer, has you pulling it over his head, his pants following. Has your hands skimming down every thick part of his body until you reach his cock, hard and aching and slick with pre-cum.

“I need to suck you off later,” you say, done with overthinking. Time to just be honest, and Kim Namjoon has a dick you need to feel down your throat. “Remind me.”

He whines, thrusts into your hand a little harder. “How could I forget that?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t know if this would be the only time,” you answer. “Did you bring a condom?” Namjoon nods, fetches one from his wallet and rolls it on.

He hovers above you again. Looks nervous, all of a sudden, like he can’t tell his lefts from his rights. All out of sorts. You’re about to tell him it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to, don’t have to do anything at all, when he says, “It doesn’t have to be.” You just stare. “The only time.”

There’s a conversation to be had. You know that. Both of you clearly have feelings you need to talk about and sort out, but you reckon they can wait. They’ll still be there in the afterglow, in the morning. So you nod, say okay, Joon, and kiss away the insecurities that still linger.

You think about the fic. Think maybe Namjoon would appreciate it if you cracked a stupid joke, just like he’d tried to do earlier. “Has anyone ever called your cock stupid?”

He laughs, breath fanning against your skin. “No. Wanna try it and see what happens?”

Might as well. You try to remember the exaggerated tone of voice you’d used. Repeat the line—“Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?”—and wait.

There’s a beat of silence, and then—

Namjoon swallows thickly. “I, um. Unfortunately, I think that really works for me.” You laugh. Pull him closer. Wrap your legs around his waist as he starts to move against you. Has jokes of his own. “Please. Please let me fuck you.”

You roll your eyes, laugh tapering into a giggle. “Do you know how?” Namjoon nods, looking all too much like a puppy eager to please its owner. “Do you promise?” He nods again. “Okay. Okay, come here.”

You expect him to move fast; expect the first time to be frenzied and a little awkward. It isn’t. Namjoon lines himself up and pushes the smallest bit inside, and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. Threads your fingers together, squeezes your hand. Pushes further inside and mumbles praise just beneath your ear.

It’s dizzying, the amount of care Namjoon handles you with. How soft he is. Does nothing to ease the discomfort of the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, but he talks you through it. Tells you how good you feel, how beautiful you look. Spills a lot of words you’d probably be embarrassed to hear and he’d be embarrassed to say if this was any other time, but in the heat of the moment it all just works to unravel you faster.

He bottoms out. “Okay?” he asks, and you’re rewarded with a dimpled smile when you say you are. Namjoon is a devastating kind of beautiful.

But, as he gives you time to adjust and you give him the all-clear, he also fucks like a demon. What once was hand-holding is now your wrists pinned to the bed, your body caged beneath him as he rolls his hips at a pace that has your eyes rolling back into your head. You’ve been deceived. Lured into a false sense of security.

It’s almost a shame this isn’t being recorded, because you want to memorize all the sounds Namjoon’s making. Want to hear them for the rest of your life. Don’t want anyone else to be the reason he sounds like this, and as he ups his pace and presses his lips to your neck, you don’t want to sound like this because of anyone else, either.

Maybe one of those times in the future, you can talk him into it.

Namjoon reaches down, rubs circles into your clit. Every time you think you might be close, he pulls his hand away, smiles like the devil. You let him have his fun for a while, let him think you’re keen to lie back and take it, and then you tighten your legs around his waist and flip him onto his back.

He doesn’t think it’s very funny. Looks up at you all bewildered. “What’re you—”

“You were taking too long,” you snark. “Figured I’d take matters into my own hands.”

“Yeah? Shit,” he says as you begin to move. “Fuck, baby, like that. Ride me just like that.”

You do. Don’t change a thing, because Namjoon’s cock is long and thick enough to hit exactly where you need it to. You can feel yourself clenching, feel yourself getting wetter, and the sight of Namjoon beneath you does nothing to stave off the inevitable. He looks even better than you’d imagined: skin flushed, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, sweat-slick. You want to make him cry. Want to give him the entire world. You will.

Namjoon thrusts at the same time you roll your hips, and that’s what does it. Has you crying out, has stars flashing behind your eyelids. Has you saying fuck, fuck, fuck as he drives you over the edge for the second time. Has you on the brink of oversensitive as he thrusts a few more times to chase his own end, almost delirious at the way Namjoon moans as he spills into the condom.

Has you swooning, just a bit, at the dopey way Namjoon smiles at you, eyes half-lidded and crinkled at the corners.

“Was that okay?”

You snort. “Yeah, I’d say it was decent.”

“Maybe next time you could pee on me,” he jokes.

You whack him on the chest. “Sure. Or we could record it.”

Has you a little shocked at the way his cock twitches inside of you at the mention of it.

On Monday, you don’t wear a pretentious sweater.

When you stroll in, Jungkook’s already got the best donut shoved halfway into his mouth because he’s a shithead. He eyes you warily, probably hoping with all his hope that you spent the weekend finding God and getting your shit together.

And then he realizes you’ve got on Namjoon’s hoodie and he nearly chokes to death.

“What the fuck are you wearing—”

Namjoon appears at that very moment, and it’s so hard not to take credit for the way he’s glowing, the dazed smile on his face. But Jungkook notices, because Jungkook notices everything, and his gaze darts between the two of you: your hoodie, Namjoon’s face, your face. He opens his mouth, something inappropriate bound to spill out, but Namjoon beats him to the punch. “Ready?” he asks you, and you nod.

It’s seamless.

No hiccups, no awkward stuttering. Namjoon gets through the intro without a hitch, and it feels exactly like it used to. Just two friends having a conversation. It’s obvious Jungkook still wants to say something, but after suffering through last week, he stays quiet lest he makes it worse and sends the two of you back to the bad place.

“How was your weekend, Pipe? Do anything fun?” Namjoon rolls his lips, tries not to laugh.

So you play along. “No, not really, just some dog sitting. How about you?”

“Oh, you know me. Had another first date on Saturday.”

“Did you? How’d it go?”

“Perfect.”

It’s a blessing Jungkook isn’t filming this, because your eyebrows raise so far they nearly disappear from your face altogether. There isn’t even a hint of hesitation in Namjoon’s voice, and although you would’ve described it the same way, hearing him say it with such conviction has you a little stunned. “Wow. You gonna see her again?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says, sharing a private smile with you. “I think I am.”

who the FUCK is namjoon dating Posted by u/pod-shipper 7 minutes ago This has honestly ruined my entire day. I thought all the stories he told about dating were a bit… Like, what kind of guy has a podcast about relationships but can’t seem to be in one? But you could just HEAR it in his voice how much he likes this woman he went on a date with over the weekend and I’m sick to my stomach. (+2195) ↳ bro you and me both 😭 i genuinely thought him and piper had something going on fr (+1302) ↳ Seriously might stop listening because of this! Any woman with self-respect would never let their partner host a podcast with someone they’re obviously in love with. If he gets serious with this woman, Piper will be gone within 6 months, mark my words. (+927) ↳ I wouldn’t worry about it too much! My cousin works at a really nice restaurant in the same city Namjoon lives in, and she said she saw this “date” on Saturday and that it wasn’t anything serious. (+788) ↳ Piper got a cat and Namjoon finally got a second date. Face it, it’s over. (+325) ↳ cannot believe him and piper aren’t dating.. do you think i should delete all my tiktok edits? (+4) ↳ this is unhinged lmfao i thought y’all hated piper? you’re in here bitching abt her being a “misandrist” every week and now ur gonna stop listening bc namjoon isn’t dating her? pick a lane and stay in it (-64)

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and reblogs/shares are always welcome! I appreciate you very much~ ♡

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jewel writes

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landosjpg · 1 month

Text

chicken shop date | ln

the one where your boyfriend gets invited to the chicken shop date and you’re not really happy about it.

lando norris x gender-neutral!reader

word count: ~1.1k

warnings: just reader being a tiny bit jealous and insecure & fluff at the end

note: based on this request. took me a little longer than it should had but i wanted to watch the interview before to know how to approach it, but hope you enjoy it!

"i'm just not really fond of the idea!" you huffed, sinking further into your boyfriend's couch, dramatically crossing your arms under your chest with pouty lips.

your reaction got a laugh out of lando and he let his body plop down next to you, looking over at your saddened expression with a soft smile on his lips.

"baby, come on. i'm gonna be late," he cooed, his fingers trying to reach for your chin to get you to look at him so he could give you a kiss goodbye, but you easily managed to turn your face in the opposite direction before his lips could touch yours.

this gesture got a sigh out of lando, making him drop his hand to your lap in defeat.

"it's gonna be alright," he said, his voice still sweet as he tried te reassure you, knowing that under your over dramatic reaction lied the anxiety of him getting even more popular.

just the previous evening, his team had informed him that he was scheduled for a new interview in the morning. when he finished telling you all about it after hanging up the phone, your eyebrows were furrowed and the pout you made hadn't left your face since that very moment.

the chicken shop date.

you usually watched the show, so you knew how big of an audience it had. it wasn't the fake dating part that worried you, but the huge amount of fans it would get him.

it was a little stupid, you knew, considering that he was one of the most popular faces of the sport. but you couldn't help the little insecurities that surfaced from time to time, thinking that he could find someone to replace you at any given minute.

lando's hand squeezed yours softly, making you get out of your mind and look back at him. he knew what you were thinking, so he gave you a reassuring smile before bringing your hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. so you gave in.

"just don't be funny. or nice," you said, trying your best to forget about your worries and trust that nothing would change. "don't be cute, either."

"i can do that," lando chuckled, and with your hand still in his, he leaned closer to you to finally peck your lips.

"good, cause i don't want to share my boyfriend with any more people," you added, making him smile as he pulled away and got up from his spot next to you.

he found your overprotectiveness rather cute sometimes, and every single time he tried to comfort you, reminding you that you were the only one he wanted.

with your little act over, you looked up at his figure in front of you as he gathered his things before leaving the house. he looked extra good; you had noticed how the color of his hoodie was bringing out the blue of his eyes a few minutes earlier and how his curls were still a little damp from his shower, one of them perfectly falling over his forehead.

he turned to look at you one last time, leaning to kiss your forehead and whisper an "i love you" before he left the apartment in a rush, your little tantrum surely making him arrive a good couple of minutes late.

୨୧

lando had asked you to join him in australia so you could spend a few days exploring the city before he had to go back to work. and naturally, you had accepted.

as any other day, you woke up in his arms, limbs tangled under the bedsheets and your cheek softly pressed against his bare chest.

you lazily turned around, trying not to wake him up, to reach for your phone to check the time. that was your intention, but as you saw your phone blowing up with notifications, you remembered.

the episode had come out only a few hours earlier.

not wanting to spoil yourself scrolling on social media, you quickly opened youtube and looked it up, feeling a little uneasy once again. you weren't sure what you could expect, lando hadn't said much about it when he returned home that day.

you couldn't help the smile that creeped up to your lips the second he appeared on your screen, his soft spoken voice warming your heart and making you snuggle closer to him, your back against his chest now.

you felt the grip around your waist getting a little tighter, his knees tucking behind yours.

"are you serious?" his voice was hoarse, his breath on your skin as he hid his face on your neck.

"you didn't think i wouldn't watch, did you?" you giggled when he pulled you closer to him, only getting a soft groan from his lips as an answer.

he didn't say anything else, just kept pressing soft kissis to your skin as you finished watching the interview, your smile growing wider at his shyness.

once you were done, you put your phone down and turned around to face him again. your eyes met his under the soft morning light, the corners of your lips moving upwards at the beautiful sight in front of you.

"it wasn't that bad now, was it?" he whispered, clearly referring to your tantrum the day of the filming.

"it was fun," you admitted, running your fingers through his curls slowly.

he hummed, letting his eyelids flutter close once again at your touch.

"i'm still not happy about sharing my boyfriend with new people," you playfully added after a few seconds, the little pout on your lips, but lando was quick to kiss it away. "and i could've asked you those questions myself," you sassed, making him roll his eyes with a chuckle at your words.

"maybe you should go on a date with me if you want to ask me those questions so bad," he said, trying to nuzzle his face on your neck again to hide his smirk.

"smooth," you giggled, wrapping one of your legs around his body and pulling him a little closer to yours. "i'd love to go on a date with you, baby."

he smiled at your murmured answer, kissing your jaw before mumbling himself, "tomorrow night then?"

with a slight nod of your head, you hummed and let your eyes shut close to enjoy a couple more minutes in bed with your boyfriend before the alarm went off.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic

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cinnamon-galaxies · 1 month

Note

Hi! I saw that your request box was open. Could I request a Alastor x fem!reader who is a mornigstar, charlie's older sister and she is engaged with Alastor. In episode 5, Dad beat Dad, I thought their relationship is kept secret and was revealed later on shocking lucifer and their friends

Dad beat Fianc�� beat Dad

Pairings: Alastor x Fem!Reader / Alastor x Morningstar!Reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, (a little bit of) fluff, secret relationship/engagement, Alastor vs Lucifer, Morningstar!Reader, Fem!Reader

Warnings: language/swearing, kiss, argument/bickering, reader is Charlie’s older sister, English is not my first language!

Summary: You are Charlie's older sister and secretly engaged to Alastor. When your sister invites your father to the hotel to ask for his help with her rehabilitation program, you look forward to his arrival. However, things take a turn when tensions escalate between your father and your fiancé, leading to heated bickering. Overcome with frustration, you finally lash out and accidentally reveal your engagement to the King of Hell and the hotel's residents.

Wordcount: 5.4k

A/N: This one turned out so long! I really hope you like it and that the story meets your expectations! English is not my first language so I want to apologize for possible grammar and spelling mistakes. I really tried my best to make as few mistakes as possible!

───*✱*.｡:｡*✱*.:｡.*✧*.:｡*✰*｡:.*✧*.｡:.*✱*｡: ｡.*✱*───

“Well, I’m actually running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. Maybe you saw our commercial,” you heard your younger sister speak into the telephone, releasing a nervous chuckle here and there. Then a sigh escaped her lips. “Listen, dad, I’ve got kind of a big ask…” You stood a few feet away and stared at her, unsure what to think of this whole idea. Was it really that smart to ask your father to organize another meeting with heaven? The last one already didn’t end well. But what other choice was left for you? Still, it released a weird feeling inside your guts, now that you watched Charlie calling your dad, since your and your sister’s relationships with him were kind of… special. Your father tended to distance himself from the both of you for the most time, bathing in his own emotional dilemma and not even trying to do anything about it. Thus neglecting the both of you. Well, at least he called your sister five months ago regarding that meeting with Adam in heaven’s local embassy. But when it comes to you it’s been even longer since you’ve talked. Maybe a year? Or even longer. You didn’t actually know and also some part within you didn’t even want to. But what you knew is that you missed him. Although, in contradiction, you weren’t really fond of him at the moment. It’s not that you didn’t love him. He was your father, regardless, and you both shared a lot of wholesome and fun memories. But since your mother had left him seven years ago, things had turned out strange and you didn’t really approve of his weird-ass behavior towards you and your sister. Still, you hoped your father would agree to help you out. Maybe, just maybe, there was a probability that you saw him again. You had so much to tell him. Your life has changed a lot since you started supporting your sister in the hotel. And even before, when you met Alastor…

Lost in your thoughts you missed parts of the phone call and as your consciousness returned to reality, you saw your sister taking the phone down and ending the call. Curious about the outcome you cocked your head. “What did he say?”

“Well,” Charlie stared at an empty space for a brief moment, “it seems that dad will be coming over.”

Your mouth fell agape and your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, really?” you asked her and a huge smile grew on your face. “That’s awesome! When?”

Charlie proudly straightened her back and stemmed her hands into her hips. “We have an hour until he gets here.”

You turned around to face the other residents who sat on the couch and raised your voice, “Okay people. Dad’s on his way, so we’re getting this place presentable and we are all going to make an amazing impression. Let’s go!”

That’s when Vaggie spoke up, “That’s a great idea! Husker, Angel and I will go get some decorations for the lobby,” her eyes wandered down to Niffty, “Niffty, you and Sir Pentious will bake some cookies so we have something to eat when it’s time for coffee.”

Nifty nodded exaggeratedly, almost vibrating from that force she put into her motion. She instantly grabbed Sir Pentious’s hand and dragged him down the hallway towards the kitchen. When Husker, Angel and Vaggie went to get the decorations from the storage room you and Charlie were left alone.

“Are you as excited as I am?” You asked her with a moving voice and examined your sister expectantly. It was no secret that Charlie took that whole situation with your father a bit differently from you. While you almost imploded waiting to get a chance to meet him again, your sister was more reserved and kept herself a bit more distant from him. Even though she was the one your father seemed to favor when it came to dealing with the conflict with heaven. It didn’t matter that you were the older daughter…

“Ahm… I don’t know,” Charlie responded nervously stroking her neck, “I mean, yes, I am. But at the same time…” She hesitated and you put your hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, sis. I can understand,” you reassured her with a calm voice and smiled at her with genuine eyes. You could feel her shoulders relax under your supporting gesture.

“Thank you,” she responded and returned your smile. “It’s just… You know, since he and mom split, I often don’t feel like his daughter anymore. Yet he sounded very excited to come over.”

You took a deep breath and removed your hand from her shoulder. “We’ll see how things are going when he arrives.”

Charlie chuckled. “Well, I think you should go and inform Alastor about our special guest,” she requested, raising her eyebrows in concern. Charlie was the only person at the hotel who knew about your secret relationship with him. When you decided to knock on the door to propose your support to your sister, you and Alastor were already dating. In fact, you were the one who dragged him here because – regardless of his fearful and sketchy reputation – you knew he’d make a great hotelier and protector for the residents during future exterminations. But you both didn’t introduce yourselves as a couple right away. Instead, you found common ground in letting your sister know but keeping it hidden from the other residents. There were several reasons you both had decided against making your relationship public: Alastor’s reputation as the Radio Demon, yours as Lucifer’s oldest daughter, the gossip, the media… These and many more were all things you didn’t want to deal with. Especially since Alastor was a very private person who despised showing affection outside his private space and you, as a person who had no desire to brag about your partner, were totally fine with it. What happened in private chambers stayed in private chambers. That was your agreement, and if you let your friends know about your relationship, there would be too much risk that it would eventually become public. The only other person next to Charlie, and outside the hotel, who knew about your and Alastor’s connection, was his decades-long friend Rosie.

Repeating your sister's request in your head you nodded in agreement. It was the best to prepare Alastor. Even though an hour alone wouldn’t be long enough for him to digest the fact that he was about to meet your father. “Oh, I think he’ll be excited about the news,” you responded with a sarcastic tone and couldn’t help but release a malicious laugh. Oh, how much he will hate this...

You heard Charlie laughing along and shaking her head in amusement. But as quickly as the amusement appeared, it disappeared as you continued to think about the fact that Alastor was actually going to meet your father. With a deep breath you dropped your smile and lowered your voice. “Do you think it would be a good idea to tell dad about Alastor and me?”

“Ahm…” Charlie seemed to think about it more carefully before commenting, “I actually don’t know… I wish I could tell you but that’s something you and Alastor have to decide. First of all, I’d wait until after they had their first impressions of each other. Then… maybe… introduce him to the truth? I mean, if you and Alastor plan to stay together, what I hope – I mean… It’s obvious, why else would you date if it isn’t for staying together?” She chuckled at how much she was lost in her words and cleaned her throat. “I’m sorry. What I mean to say is that it would be beneficial for your shared future if you let dad know. At least at some point in the future.”

You nodded in understanding and gifted her a slight smile. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll talk to him about this later. First of all, I need to prepare him for meeting his soon-to-be father in law.” You laughed and excused yourself before you left the lobby and went upstairs.

When you arrived at Alastor’s radio station you knocked on the door.

“You may come in!” you heard Alastor’s dulled voice through the door and opened it. When you entered the radio station you immediately saw him sitting at his desk, leaning over some papers and holding a pen in his hand. When you closed the door, he placed the pen to the side and turned to look at you.

“Why hello, darling,” he greeted you, his signature smile on his face but his red eyes revealing a neutral expression. “What brings you here?”

“Well...” You took a deep breath and strolled towards him with your hands folded behind your back and your lips pressed to your teeth. “I’ve got some news for you that you’ll probably hate.”

“Oh?” he responded curiously and tilted his head to the side. His red hair swayed with the movement.

You arrived at his desk and leaned against the tabletop, your front mostly faced towards him. You tilted your head in the same direction as he did and couldn’t manage to suppress an amused smile. “My dad will be here in less than an hour,” you said with a cocky voice and watched Alastors expression shift as his lips curled up around his smile and his eyes immediately twitched. An awkward silence fell over the room before he broke it with a snippy tone, “You’re right. I hate that news.” His neck returned to a straight and more natural position and you chuckled.

“Vaggie’s the one to blame. She came up with the idea that Charlie should call him to ask for help because she could no longer bear seeing my sister ripping her hair out in despair over her missing rehabilitation success,” you explained and a growl escaped Alastor’s throat. He already didn't like Vaggie and now he probably liked her even less.

“Splendid,” he said without enthusiasm and stood up from his chair, grabbing his microphone cane and leaning on it. Now taller than you, you had to tilt your head back to be able to look him in the eyes. “How about I excuse myself and disappear for another set of seven years?”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” you responded, raised your index finger and waved it in front of him. “You will stand your ground and behave. It’s just my dad.”

“He’s the king of hell, darling.”

“And that's why you'll be going down there and prove to him that you're a worthy partner for his princess daughter.”

He gritted his teeth and your smile widened as you nonchalantly brushed the wrinkles out of his coat.

“Are you questioning my abilities, darling?” He asked, placing one of his hands on top of yours, thus stopping your movements and squeezing it.

You felt your cheeks blush at his affectionate action and stepped closer to him, your body now close enough that it almost touched his. You could feel the warmth radiating off him and tilted your head slightly, your eyes still locked with his. “No, I’m not. And that’s exactly why I want you to do as I said.”

“Oh, is her dear royal highness misusing her mightiness to give me an order?” he asked with a low and unusually soft voice and a shiver ran down your spine. Oh, how you loved it when he became flirty. His charm was able to captivate you instantly, weakening your legs and waking those tingling butterflies in your stomach. He removed your hands from his coat and pulled you closer to him. Your body now touching his, you felt the urge to rest your head into the crook of his neck but resisted.

“She indeed is. And you better behave, peasant,” you teased him back and Alastor narrowed his eyes at you degrading him like this.

He let go of one of your hands and instead cupped your cheek before using his fingers to lift your chin up. “You seem to forget that I’m your finacé”, he purred, leaning in closer until only a few inches separated your noses from touching. His hot breath stroked your face and you could’ve sworn that his eyes had turned to a darker hue.

Without further hesitation he pulled you into a tender kiss. His lips brushed over yours and you leaned in closer, succumbing yourself completely to him. Your free hand roamed up and slid through his hair, pressing his face closer to yours. After a few moments of togetherness both of you let go of each other.

“We should return to the foyer. My dad can arrive any minute,” you said and stroked his cheek before heading towards the door. You could hear Alastor sigh behind you.

“Just as a reminder: I can’t promise you things will go well.”

You rolled your eyes as you left the radio station together. “At least try.”

After you entered the foyer most preparations were already done and it didn’t take long until your father arrived. Your body was shaking from excitement as you and Charlie went up to the door and your sister opened it.

"Charlie!,” your father shouted with joy. A huge grin sat on his face and his yellow eyes sparkled as his gaze fell on your sister who stood much closer to him. He held out his arms and approached her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too, dad,” Charlie pressed through the tight hug of her father, overwhelm and a little bit of uncomfort in her expression.

When Lucifer let go of her his eyes fell on you. "Y/N! You’re here too?” his pupils dilated in surprise and you immediately found yourself wrapped in his arms as well.

“Dad!” you greeted him as you placed your hands around his torso and squeezed, the soft fragrance of his cologne entering your nose. He smelled the same he always did, the scent taking you back to the past when your family was still together and healthy. It was wonderful to be this close to him after such a long time and you wished this moment could last longer. You looked to the side and saw Alastor standing near your sister. But what you didn’t see was one of his eyes twitching at your father’s gesture.

You let go of each other and Charlie held out her hand, spinning and pointing at the lobby. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

The other residents greeted him with waving hands from afar and your father smiled back at them, walking through the lobby and letting his gaze wander around. “Wow, this place looks, uh…” he twisted his mouth in an unpleasant manner and frowned, searching for the right words. He chuckled nervously and you and Charlie exchanged glances as he stammered around, turning to the side and surveying the establishment as if he was a property inspector. You could tell that nervousness spread across Charlie’s face as she probably hoped his words wouldn’t be too dismissive. You shrugged your shoulders at her to dismiss your father’s unsettling behavior and followed him.

“What do you think, dad?” you dared to ask him in hopes he’d come up with a response a little faster if you pushed on him a little.

“It’s got a lot of character,” he eventually said and winched with a squeak when he turned around and laid eyes on the bar. “What in the unholy hell is that?” he asked repulsively and pointed to the swampy-looking counter decorated with skulls and two full snake skeletons wrapped around the poles. The green wood paneling disrupted the noble red wallpaper of the looby, making it appear like an eyesore amidst the otherwise mostly luxurious decor.

A dark shadow crawled around the floor and took the form of Alastor who appeared right next to him. “Just some of the renovations we had done! ” he explained, pointing his cane at the bar, his signature smile wide and confident before he turned towards Lucifer and leaned on his cane. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”

“And you are?” Lucifer asked with raised eyebrows, a skeptical tone in his voice.

You, again, exchanged glances with Charlie and held your breath. The moment has come in which your father and your financé had their first contact and somehow you got the feeling that this won’t end well. Your sister seemed to be fearing the same and she stepped closer to you. Her presence calmed your tension at least a little.

“Alastor,” your finacé introduced himself, “Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure!” He shook your fathers hand and you could see the disapproval in both their eyes, before they let go. Your father grimaced while Alastor wiped his hands over his coat.

This most definitely won’t end well. But before you and Charlie could say something, Alastor continued, “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.”

You breathed in sharply. Your father didn’t seem to take his comment well as his expression immediately turned to annoyance. You and Charlie both approached them, your sister standing next to your father while you kept closer to Alastor. You really hoped that he’d notice your disapproval over how things were going and slow down a bit. But you knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t notice the tension in the room and also wouldn't care if he did.

“Who is this?” your father asked, his eyes fixated on the demon before him. “Who’s this now? Are you the bellhop?”

Alastor laughed in response. “No! I’m the host of the hotel. You might’ve heard of me from my radio broadcast,” he explained.

Your father pretended to ponder his words for a very short moment but then denied with a derogatory snort. “Nope! I guess that’s why Charlie called it the ‘Hazbin Hotel’?” He laughed at his pun, this time more maliciously. The tension grew stronger and you didn’t even realize that you held your breath and pressed your fists so tightly together that your nails painfully stung your palms. Your sister, on the other hand, nervously rubbed her hands.

Hiding his offense, Alastor piled into your father’s laughter, “It was actually my idea.”

“Well, it’s not very clever!” your father responded, increasing his laugh.

Alastor did the same and leaned in closer, “Fuck you.”

“Alastor!” you yelled at him in shock and disbelief over his rude words and took him by his arm, dragging him to the side while your sister shoved your father into the other direction.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you scolded him with a lowered voice to keep your conversation as private as possible. He’d never been someone who cussed so why did he have to do this now of all times?

“He started it,” Alastor explained, keeping his face turned in the other direction to avoid eye contact.

You breathed in sharply, anger boiling within you as you hissed, “I don’t care about who did what. You were supposed to make a good impression!”

“Excuse me, dear, but it seems that your father and I don’t get along. And this seems to be based on mutuality. I don’t know if you noticed this but he already looked at me disapprovingly before we even exchanged words.”

Oh, you did notice this. But you didn’t care because in this moment it was important for both of them to at least pretend to tolerate each other. You couldn’t afford your father and your finacé to already disembowel each other during their first encounter. Important aspects of your shared future relied on their correlation. And… Was Alastor even listening to you?!

You snatched his cane out of his hands and spinned it around.

Alastor finally turned to look at you, his teeth gritted and his eyebrows pushed together. His gaze became softer as he eyed your expression but he still seemed tense.

“You’ll put this right, Alastor. Or otherwise…” You don’t finish your sentence and instead poke the pointy end of his cane between his ribs.

“Fine,” he growled and took his cane back.

You both turned around and saw Charlie pushing your father in your direction, her arm resting on his shoulder while she talked to him insistently with a calm but worried voice, “Without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much!”

Alastor took a step closer, tapping his fingertips on his cane. “Charlie has a very unique vision,” he started and stood next to her, forcing himself to sound as honest and courteous as possible, “I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests.”

“Thank you, Alastor”, your sister responded, ignoring your frowning father who looked anything but amused.

Alastor continued, “Quite an impressive young lady. We’re all very proud of her.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and Charlie gave him a genuine smile before he let go and turned towards you. “And her sister, Y/N, well…” He laid his red eyes on you with a genuine and almost loving smile and rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in an almost unnoticeable but reassuring manner. “She’s an extraordinary being. Introduced me to this very special place so we can give her sister all the support and assistance she needs.”

You smiled at him, grateful that he followed your request to at least try to make things right.

Your father growled and narrowed his eyes as he noticed the way Alastor looked at you, the demon’s hand on your shoulder triggering his already strained nerves. He snatched his head in the other direction to face your sister. “Charlie… Why don’t you introduce me to your other friends?”

“Oh, yes, of course!” she called out and walked up to the other residents. “This is Vaggie. She’s my girlfriend!” She pulled Vaggie with her who shyly raised her hand in a reserved greeting gesture.

Your father laughed and his mood immediately switched from annoyance to excitement. “Oh my golly! You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common!” He pulled Vaggie in a rushed embrace, letting her go as fast as he got close to her. “She’s beautiful!”

You felt your heart sink in your chest at your father’s opposite reaction to your sister’s partner and a strike of anxiety hit you at the thought of telling him the truth about you and Alastor. It wasn’t only the fact you both were a couple that made you this insecure but the fact that you were even engaged to him.

Alastor seemed to sense your inner tension and squeezed your shoulder again, now with more pressure and you were grateful for him that he hadn’t removed his hand yet. His closeness was exactly what you needed at this moment. You moved a bit closer to him, hoping that you both didn't appear too close in the other eyes, and breathed in his scent while your thoughts raced in your head. You reviewed the events again and realized that Alastor was right. You had little reason to be so angry (only) at him because your father didn’t really behave either from the first second. Hopefully you could somehow dismiss this conflict as a matter of miscommunication between them.

You watched your sister introduce your father to the other residents which he seemed to get along with very well – contrary to your finacé who seemed to be the only one he immediately despised.

You sighed and that’s when your father turned around to face the lobby. With a determined expression he raised his voice so everybody could hear him, “Well, it looks like I could give you some help. With a little bit of alakazam,” he wiggled his fingers, indicating a magic spell, “we could turn this place into something much more appealing! I mean, who needs a busboy now that you got the chef?” He faced Alastor with narrowed eyes and poked his elbow teasingly into Charlie’s side.

You could feel Alastor’s grip on your shoulder tightening. His smile turned into a strained grin as he obviously thought about saying something. You begged that he kept his mouth shut to not reinforce their conflict…

“Well, Charlie…” your father continued before Alastor could even say something, “I’m not almighty but I could give you a lot. Almost anything, if you ask for it. You know, normally, I’d charge a lot for my help but since you’re my daughter and I love you with all my heart, it’s a matter of course I do it for free. Unlike that sketchy prick who probably has some devious intentions in his mind.” He raised his cane and pointed at Alastor.

Charlie blinked a few times and pressed a nervous and drawled ‘Thank you…’ through her uncomfortable smile. It was obvious that she didn’t approve of your father’s comment but she also didn’t want to increase the drama by intervening.

Alastor took his hand off your shoulder and leaned on his cane. “At least I’ve been here from the start,” he commented and eyed his claws with a hint of arrogance.

You breathed in sharply but tried your best to keep your patience up as Alastor continued his monologue. “Let's not forget that I’ve always been faithful to you, Charlie. I support you, care for you and this hotel, and execute whatever you demand”, he exclaimed with such confidence that it was almost awkward listening to him.

“That’s true,” your sister responded carefully with a grateful smile on her face and your father rolled his eyes. “You know, dad, Alastor does a lot for the hotel and its residents.”

“No matter his capabilities, because sometimes, Charlie, there’s no substitute for pure angelic power, which – not to forget – also happens to be your blood!”

“Dad…” Charlie sighed and you growled, the anger cooking inside of you.

“Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud,” Alastor interfered again, his grin still as prominent as always but his eyes narrowed, darting invisible arrows at Lucifer. He straightens his back to appear even taller in comparison to your father, the arrogance undeniable in his expression. “Seems like the family you chose is better.”

“You’re such a loser!” your dad spat out.

“And yet here you are proving me right with every word you speak,” Alastor snatched back.

“You know nothing, you prick!”

“Well, unlike you, I don’t abandon my responsibilities!”

“How do you dare question my commitment?”

“At least I care for your daughters.”

“Oh you tacky little piece of–!”

You jumped between them. “Shut the fuck up! Both of you!”

you yelled as your anger burst through the walls you’ve tried to maintain hold of. Your voice cracked with the strain of suppressed fury and your appearance began to morph into a much more demonic form as pointy horns grew out of your head and your eyes turned a gleaming bloody red. “I’m sick of you bickering like children, you fucking attention whores! Is this how you get your kicks, by not being able to keep your mouths shut over such trivial nonsense? Do you even realize how goddamn irritating it is for the rest of us to be subjected to your constant squabbling? You know each other for ten minutes and already start pushing each other to the limits!”

“Y/N–,” Alastor tried to interrupt you but you stretched out your arm, pushing him away from you.

“No, Alastor, back the fuck off!” you scream, looking up in his red eyes and poking his chest angrily with your index finger. “Everytime I tell you to keep your shit together and make a good impression, you make things worse!”

Your head snatches around and you now stare at your father with the same fury in your eyes. “And you, dad, stop your irresponsible nonsense and don’t taunt him as if he were a punching bag for your own insecurities!” Now you poke at your father’s chest, towering over him with floating hair and fire in your eyes. “Because Alastor’s right! Where have you been all the time? Instead of helping us and supporting Charlie in her project, you didn't even contact us! Especially not me! The last time I heard from you was over a year ago! And now you come here, finally ready to help your daughters, and the moment you arrive you start lashing out at my fiancé to deflect from your own mistakes because you can't stand the fact that he was there for us while you preferred to wallow yourself in your depression!”

Silence fell over the room when you finished your rant, all eyes locked on you in shock and disbelief over your courage to attack the Radio Demon and the King of Hell himself in such a manner. Your heart raced, pumped your blood through your veins with such a pressure that you felt your whole body pulsating under your tension as relief washed over you.

“Y–,” your dad tried to say, stuttering and completely overwhelmed by your confrontation and what you just revealed to him. “You–, Your… fiancé?” He ripped his eyes open, his mouth agape in disbelief.

You breathed in heavily and closed your eyes for a brief moment, realizing what you just revealed, before you opened them again and responded to his question with a much calmer but also weak and tired voice, “Yes, dad. Alastor is my fiancé.”

“What the fuck?” you could hear Angel exclaim in the background but ignored him.

“Well…” your father hesitated. He struggled hard to find the right words and put his hand over his mouth, rubbing his skin like a stress ball. “Well, I’m… Wow…”

Alastor approached you, his steps echoing from the high walls in the silent room and he put his hand on your shoulder. Feeling his touch through your blouse, caused a jolt of electricity to rush through your body. It erased the rest of your anger and your appearance returned to your normal form. Alastor’s presence calmed you down to an almost relaxed state. You felt the need to lean on him but resisted because everything that just happened was already enough – for you, for your father, your fiancé and all the other residents who were forced to witness this nerve-wrecking spectacle.

You watched your father’s gaze roam over Alastor’s presence, from his head to his toes and from his toes back to his head.

“I–, I don’t know what to say… Uh… I–... I’m speechless,” he stuttered, unable to look away from the man that stood next to you and encouraged you with a little but meaningful gesture and with who you wanted to spend the rest of eternity with. “I–, excuse me. I need some time to think.”

Your father indicated to turn around and leave as your sister grabbed him by his arm, holding him back. “Would you like me to give you a tour around the hotel?” she asked him reassuringly in hope he would agree, what he then did.

“Yes. Please.”

Your sister gave you an encouraging look before she turned around and guided your father towards the stairs, Vaggie following right after to accompany them.

Now, you and Alastor were alone with Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Husk and Niffty. All of them stared at you, speechless. Especially Husk appeared a bit traumatized by your accidental announcement.

“So… Mister fancy-talk-creepy-voice managed to slide into the royal family?” Angel asked you with interest but you raised your hand, interrupting him.

“Stop it, Angel.”

The spider demon pressed his lips together in a thin line and hummed.

You turned towards Alastor. “Are you mad?” you asked him, afraid that you damaged his trust by revealing your biggest secret you had sworn to keep.

Alastor leaned his head down sideways to look you in the eyes. His grin was replaced by a genuine smile as his red eyes surveyed your expression. “It’s alright, my dear.”

He looked over to the other residents, walking a few steps closer to them and cocked his head in an unnatural and unnerving way. His antlers grew in size with pointy ends while his eyes changed to a black color with red, moving radio dials as irises. “If you dare say a single word about mine and Y/N’s relationship outside of the hotel, I will tear you apart and hang your guts as flags on the hotel roof so everybody will be able to see what happens if you dare gossip about the radio demon and his lady.”

*****

2K notes · View notes

shuichi-sama · 1 month

Text

scoring a date

volleyball captain! sunghoon! x manager! reader!

description: if someone had told you that after becoming your high school's volleyball team manager, you would capture the attention of it’s captain, park sunghoon, you wouldn’t have believe them. but as he charm’s his way to your heart, you just might.

or in which, sunghoon attempts to woo-you, seem to be working in his favor.

warnings: fluff! overuse of the word cute! (i swear i wrote it like 6 times)

note: inspired after watching en o’clock episode 87! i couldn’t help but picture all of them as a volleyball team!!!! LOWER CASE INTENDED!!!

___________

honestly? if someone had told you, that you would have volleyball captain, park sunghoon wrapped around your finger you would laugh at their face and certainly not the cute and giggly kind.

but as you watch him come up to you for like the nth time today, similar to every other day, you would be the fool not to believe them at that point.

“hi, y/n.” he says a smile gracing his face.

“sunghoon, you do know this like the fifth time you’ve come up to me during practice just to say hi right? and that’s not counting the four other hand waves you’ve given me.”

sunghoon, cheeks burns pink, it was a force of habit at this point. no matter how much he tried to avoid you, not like he wanted to anyways, if it wasn’t his eyes, the boy would physically gravitate towards you every single time without even noticing.

“well, i have an excuse this time. i actually came up here to ask you something.” If the blushing of his cheeks weren’t a quick give away of his nervousness, the cute tremor in his voice surely was.

“oh, what is it then?” without looking up from your clipboard, sunghoon take it as an opportunity to ask you what’s he’s been dying to ask you for a couple of weeks now, if you looked him in the eye at that moment he wasn’t so sure he would be able to go through with it, no matter how confident he was.

“go on a date with me.”

what? you were not death so you were sure you heard him correctly, but still.

“uh, you want me to go on a date with you? but why?”

confusion and hurt etches on his face at your question, as you prance on realizing just how bad your words had sounded. “i mean, why me?” the tilt of his head encourages you to elaborate.

“i’m socially awkward, i don’t really get along well with people outside of my friend group, i have a bad attitude, and there is a line of pretty girls who would kill to go on a date with you.”

sunghoon finds your rambling rather cute, it’s not like he didn’t know any of this information already. the both of you coming from very different social status at school, while sunghoon was very social, popular and very much liked at school, girls lining up just to get a glimpse of him throughout the halls, you were quite opposite of him.

you were a loner aside from your two reoccurring friends he would see you at lunch with. you weren’t not like at school but nobody really knew who you were, always keeping to yourself. as for your bad monotonous attitude? he thought it was cute, knowing full well it was only because you weren’t the best at expressing yourself, always giving everybody the wrong impression or idea, which may have lead to some very offended students.

sunghoon likes you just the way you are, so it irks him just a bit to listen to you list all these, qualities you deem flaws, but he wouldn’t tell you that at least not yet, he rather tease you first. “well, i think you would be the prettiest girl in that line.”

even if it wasn’t the first time for sunghoon to call you “pretty,” or even “cute,” you could just never get used to it, he simply has a way of making you dig the sole of your right shoe into the glossy wooden floor of the gymnasium bashfully.

“i-i never said i was in that line.” sunghoon eyebrows quirk at that.

“i would like you to be though.” even as his confidence seems to deter, he presses on, wanting a proper answer from you, hopeful it was one that invoked a late night date, that ends with a stroll at the nearest park while eating ice cream, possibly holding your hand if you allow him to.

“is that a no to the date?” his question, has your down cast eyes shoot up suddenly just for them to look away just as quickly. sunghoon can’t seem to take his eyes off of you making you want to turn into a putty right in front of him.

“o-oh, i never said that either.” every time sunghoon ever held a conversation with you, it always seemed like a push and pull feeling. it left him confused many times but a part of him knew that’s just how you are, and honestly? he found it cute, you were cute, so he would willingly pull you as much as he could and would take as many pushes as you want to give.

“so, is that a yes then?” he grins at your lack of eye contact, cute.

“uh-maybe.” he chuckles at your response, it being so you. as much as he wants to press on for a definite answer, he doesn’t know the full extent of your limit. no matter just how much he would love to tease you to find out he doesn’t, as you pull a strand behind your hair, the red tips of your ear giving away your embarrassment.

he chuckles, reaching for the top of your head, before he could ruffle it into a mess, you flinch not used to the physical contact of a guy.

“oh, i’m sorry. i got a head of myself, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” sunghoon retracts his hand to his side. distress with the idea of making you uncomfortable unintentionally, he only wishes he could kick himself for his bad habit of not keeping his cool whenever you were around.

raising your clipboard to cover your tainted cheek, you shake your head, to make him understand he misunderstood your actions. the frown forming on his face, has you clearing your throat, and pulling down the clipboard to speak much more clearer than you have been doing this whole time.

“no, it’s not that-i guess you you can say-that perhaps you just make me just a bit nervous in a good way is all.”

sunghoon’s frown ebbs away, only to switch to a look of widen eyes, and disbelieve at your clear confession. “oh.”

“why are you smiling at me like that?” you ask his looked of disbelieve turns to another of happiness, as if he had hit the jackpot, and in his world he did.

“cause you just told me i make you nervous.” well not that he didn’t know, if he wasn’t so sure he would have thought you were either nervous all the time, or simply emotionless, but you confirming that his presence made you nervous in a “good way” as you said, he was first pumping the air in his head.

“is it that shocking?” you asked out loud, more to yourself really.

he didn’t respond to your question either way. opting out to make a deal with you instead, evident that this conversation would see no end. no matter that he just wants to talk to you for the remainder of the hour, he couldn’t. if coach catches him slacking, sunghoon would be running endless lap around the the school til he saw fit, especially as team captain.

“how about we make a deal? if my team wins the mock game by 5 points difference, you’ll let me take you on a date.”

you didn’t have to consider much, but you firmly believe in his capability to score more as team manager. “if you score a difference of 10 i’ll go on a date with you.”

“you must really not want to go on a date with me, uh?” he jokingly asks.

“no, i just have faith in your abilities to beat them with a 10 point difference.”

“okay, a 10 point difference, and i also get to hold your hand after practice, it’s only fair if we both add something, no?”

sure it was fair, but now you were blushing again. “okay, deal.”

“perfect,” just before he could turns to go back to his team, he speaks again, “just so you know, i’m not going easy on them.”

“well, as team manager i would be upset if you did.”

with a beaming smile he directs at you, he reaches over your head once again unconsciously, still out of bad habit thought this time you don’t flinch away as he ruffles your hair.

you were unsure who was more nervous leaving the gymnasium, but as you walk hand in hand with sunghoon, he blames practice for his sweaty palms even after he had taken his shower. Though truthfully, he thinks it might just be too early to tell you just how nervous you make him feel, he still has to take you on a date first!

SCOREBOARD: 30/15

1K notes · View notes

bywons · 21 days

Text

𖧷 HEARTSHAKER — LHS

⌕ lee heeseung doesn't know what he wants from his rival, better marks or a kiss

pairing. student!lee heeseung x student!fem! reader wc. 1.4k tw/cw. jealousy, kissing genre. academic rivals to lovers, fluff, highschool au sru's note. requested for my nini love ♡ shitty title ik but i hope ya'll like cuz i dont T0T ( CATALOGUE?! )

¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated! PLS REBLOG ♡

96 out of 100.

thanks to the almighty above that lee heeseung is tired, the basketball jersey stuck to his back, sweat covering his face and colouring the red fabric darker as he pants for his breath, or else the test paper in his hands would have been crumpled and ripped to shreds.

not because of his number obviously.

“99, i knew i rocked this paper!”, a dulcet, familiar voice floats up to heeseung's ear from behind him, followed by a mean eye roll from him and his stance still. heeseung doesn't bother to turn around, not when he recognizes the infuriating feminine voice and already visualises the usual dark brown braids hanging by the either sides of her face, school tie too tight and almost reaching the last button of the shirt.

“why the long face?”, jake's interruption breaks heeseung out of his trance, as he takes the much unwanted seat beside him, “96 not enough for ‘ya?”

“oh shut up”, heeseung returns jake’s scoff slamming down his physics answer sheet against the wooden table. both heeseung and jake know it's not enough, whether it's a 96 or a 99 ’cause,

“it's never enough unless i cross y/n’s marks”, heeseung sighs, the answer sheet dampening under the pressure of his sweaty hands, as his forehead became the victim of the other.

everyone in the class is aware of the cutthroat competition and abhorrence between the two brunettes, already expecting the usual bickering episode between the two whenever it was time for exam results, and even if by chance someone got the same results as any one of them, they'd do their best and not bother the two.

but today is different, today heeseung doesn't find his usual energy to bicker with the braided girl sitting at the back of the class, not when she managed to beat him thrice in a row at his own game!

“last time it was a marks’ difference and now three? how is this even possible?”, heeseung groans while flipping the sheets over and over as if something magical would happen and increase his numbers.

“i heard park sunghoon's been studying chemistry with her,” jake sighs, pushing his fingers through his dark hair as he turns his head to the side, but his eyes steal a glance at heeseung, and he smirks, “‘ya know, the chemistry toppe—”

“yeah yeah i got you jake, i know who he is”, heeseung presses the bridge of his nose a bit too hard, the familiar face of the boy floating up to his vision, though he can't remember where his loved moles are on him. oh how all the girls are head over heels for park sunghoon.

is y/n one of them too? he could swear they're hanging out too much.

stupid thought, stupid stupid thought. heeseung winces at his sudden curiosity, why is giving this matter so much thought? he doesn't like y/n anyway, he doesn't like her bickering, he doesn't like her annoying attitude, he doesn't like her hair, he doesn't like her scent and he definitely doesn't like her smile. so lee heeseung shouldn't really get his head messed up in this.

the school bell rings, bringing out new tedious groans and sighs from the students as they dawdle to their next classes.

“i think she's coming here—”

“don't you have a physics class to be at, jake?”

“yeah yeah shoo me away all you want to”, jake scoffs, a smirk playing at his lips when he slings a bag on his shoulder before leaving the class, “bet you can't shoo away her.”

and before heeseung even knew it the class was empty, except him and as empty, dispersed out in the crowded hallways to their next classes. that is unless the previous dulcet but annoying voice came closer to heeseung.

“heeseung!”, you chirp, approaching him from behind, “how was your paper?”

“ugh what do you—”, heeseung's anger dies down when he turns around to face you, your hair's not done into braids today, instead it's let open with your tie loose this time, a few drops of sweat sticking to your forehead, dance practice maybe? “—w-want?”

“your marks of course,” you giggle at his stutter, taking a seat beside him, “wanna make sure if i beat you or nah.”

“yeah you did, but not on your own huh?”, heeseung scoffs, looking down at you. he realises his heart skips a beat when you tilt your head to the side, holding eye contact.

not good.

“huh? what do you mean heeseung?”, you pout, acting ever so confused by his accusation, “not on my own?”

“oh come on, the whole class knows it now”, heeseung rolls his eyes, “park sunghoon, rings any bell?”

“oh hoon?”, you grin, covering your mouth and suppressing a small giggle, “he did help me a lot with chemistry, he's so sweet!”

heeseung doesn't realise his face is getting hotter and redder by the minute, both by your presence and the pronunciation of somebody else's name. he has a nickname already? hoon? no way, you have only ever interacted with him, whether it was bickering or asking for notes or silently sitting beside each other. so how did this other guy pop up?

“hoon,” heeseung mumbles his nickname, his eyes searching for something in yours and he doesn't even notice he's sounding jealous, “how are you guys so close already…”

“well he's been tutoring me chemistry for a month now—”

“a month?!”, heeseung's brows lift up and his jaw hangs open.

heeseung doesn't know if he likes your new look, the way the curls of your hair rests on your shoulders, the way your tie is loose from your neck and the way your head tilts to look at his, heeseung's heart skips a beat and it knows something is wrong.

“why? is something—” your lips fall apart, a soft blush takes place on your cheeks and you giggle again, in a teasing tone you nudge heeseung's arm, “aww are you jealous?”

“what? don't be ridiculous now.”

“heeseung is jealous, you are jealous, you are jealous j-e-a-l-o-u-s”, you continue this song, nudging heeseung and teasing him more and more, causing his cheeks to heat up, eyes turning back to the open window and then back to yours.

“shut up y/n, you're not funny”, he scowls, the soft breeze enters the empty classrooms and hits the both of you like a refreshing wave.

and in that moment, through your teasing manner, the empty classroom, the echoes of your laughter and the soft breeze caressing your hair, your long dark hair that matched his and the way his heart skipped a beat, the way his heart always skipped a beat while you were around, he realises it's something good.

“if you shut up now i swear y/n”, heeseung tried and kept his best ‘angry at you’ acting.

“oh really? then why don't you make me?”, a soft chuckle leaves your lips and you squint your eyes.

it happens all so fast, heeseungs soft lips on yours, falling right into place. it tickles you a bit like feathers and pulls you in, until you realise that's his hand snaking around your waist. the kiss was delicate, caring and brought so much warmth from a person you only argued with.

you gasp for air, first one to pull back.

you meet his eyes, scurrying through yours and cheeks all red, probably embarrassed of what he did. the kiss quickly coloured your cheeks, a shy smile playing around your lips and a small glint in your eyes.

“i-i don't know what i did—”

“its okay heeseung”, you shush a nervous heeseung, the proximity increasing the pace of your hearts, “do you like me?”

“i love you”, heeseung answers almost instantly, “i love everything about you.”

“me too”, heeseung is the most relieved as he hears this, that hoon guy got nothing on him now. he's the winner.

“so, are we gonna date then?”, he chuckles.

you nod, “let's surprise the class together!”

lee heeseung doesn't know what he wanted when he got his answer sheets. better marks than y/n, a bickering episode with her, or maybe her to fall in love with her? he doesn't know.

a smirk falls upon his lips and he pulls you closer by your waist. he looked ever so magical and beautiful up close, that you wish the bickering had died down earlier.

“whatever you say, pretty girl”, he leans in for a second kiss, indulging himself more into you, he swears his heart will beat out of the chest as soon as his free hand makes contact with your dark strands of hair.

outside the class stands a grinning jake with a bored sunghoon, and a quite high five is shared between the two, carefully peeking inside.

(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @ii-nu @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @lilacnini @haechansbbg @river-demon-slayer @in-somnias-world @teddywonss @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @mylstserenade @branchrkive @aishigrey @nctislifue @greyminyoon1 @ro-diaries @rikibun @sleepyxxhead @belowbun nets! @/k-labels

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 1 month

Text

And then there were three.

Eddie munson x pregnant!reader

Summary: you and Eddie find out you're pregnant.

Warnings: fluff, talks of pregnancy, pulling out, condoms etc. Talks of sex. Kissing.

WC: 2.5k

A/n not proofread. I'm posting because it's been rotting away in my drafts. Sorry if this isn't good. I don't even remember what it's about.

18+ minors dni

"This can't be real..." You whispered to yourself as you stared blankly at the piece of plastic in your hands. Staring at two little pink lines.

Two little tiny pink lines telling you you're pregnant. How? You and Eddie have always been careful. You used protection every single time you had sex.

You've had scares in the past where your periods were weeks late. But when you ended up being over a month late this time around. You decided it was time to take a test. You had a gut feeling you might have been pregnant.

You were exhausted more so than usual. Extremely sensitive and had nausea every morning and evening. Were you surprised? No. Shocked? Yes. There was a little part of you hoping you were wrong. A baby right now just wasn't in yours and Eddie's plan.

You've only been dating for almost two years now. While having a family with him is something you do want. Getting a head start right now just wasn't ideal. You only just moved in together this past summer.

Now that you hold this little test strip in your shaking hands, you know you'll have to break the news to your boyfriend eventually. He's out in the living room watching The Golden Girls. A show you never would have guessed was his favorite. You heard his laughter echoing around the trailer during the cheesecake episode.

Was he going to be mad? Would he scream and yell at you? Blame this all on you? You thought to yourself. You felt like you were going to throw up out of nervousness.

No. Eddie wouldn't be upset with you over something like this. He isn't that type of person. No matter how others viewed him to be. He isn't like that. You can't even remember a time he raised his voice to you. You soothed yourself down, taking deep breaths.

Opening up the bathroom door, you make your way over to him.

"Hey baby, come watch." He pats the cushion next to him.

You swallow hard. "Uh, can we turn this off for a sec?"

Eddie looks up, noticing there was something very wrong with you.

"Uh, sure." He grabbed the remote, switching the tv off.

"Well, there isn't any better way to tell you this, so I'm just gonna say......I'm pregnant." You blurted out.

Eddie laughed at first. "Pregnant. Okay." He takes a sip of his beer. His laughter quickly died when you saw the serious and very scared look on your face.

"You took a test?" He gulped.

"Yeah, just a few minutes ago." You swallow another lump in your throat.

You immediately start to panic again, "We're always careful. I don't know how this happened."

Eddie stands to quickly be by your side. He hasn't really had time to process what you just told him. His immediate focus right now is calming you down.

We're careful...WE'RE ALWAYS CAREFUL!" You shouted. Your face is growing hot, and you feel like you could pass out any moment.

"You always wear a condom you fuckin' keep them in your wallet for christ sake"

"I know, baby, but I mean those things don't always work," Eddie reassured you softly, rubbing your back.

"We're always careful." You repeated again.

"Well, let's think back to when we weren't careful." He's trying to help put the pieces together. There had to have been a time when you both were so caught up in each that he didn't put on a condom or something.

"When was there a time I didn't at least wear one?"

"I dunno." You tap your fingers against your forehead. While Eddie guides you to sit down on the couch. "There had to have been a night - where - we..." You trailed off.

"My parents," you gasped loudly, snapping your fingers together.

His brows shoot up, and his eyes widen. He suddenly remembers that night very, very well. But he pulled out. He knows he did.

"When we stayed the night because of the storm" You continued on. The memory of that night flooding back to you. That was it. Eddie had promised to pull out right before he finished - yet obviously didn't do it in enough time.

There was something in the air that day. You couldn't pinpoint what it was. You had told Eddie to behave, but at dinner, you were the one misbehaving. Teasing him a little. Trying to get a rise out of him. You didn't think he was still going to be worked up even after it was time for bed. You were wrong. Very wrong.

"Huh," Eddie sounded utterly perplexed. He moves to sit down next to you. trying to bring you any amount of comfort he can offer.

"Huh what?" You repeated back to him. Why wasn't he as freaked out like you?

"Jus' the fact that I got you pregnant on a pull out couch is fucking ironic" He was in disbelief. Absolute disbelief. He knew pulling out wasn't his strong suit, but he never thought from just that one time would get you pregnant.

Was Eddie upset you were pregnant? No. Not at all. Having kids with you was something he always saw in your future together. How could he be so stupid, though? He thought. The one time he doesn't use a condom and you get knocked up.

"Are you--are you joking right now?" Your mouth hangs open. "Don't joke, please don't joke."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Everything will be okay. " He pulls you to him. Your head lays flat against his chest. He was trying to be supportive, but on the inside he's freaking out. When he freaks out, he makes dumb jokes to lighten the mood. Something he knows he shouldn't have done, but it's too late now.

"Sooooo at yours parents place it was then." He draws out leaning forward to rest a hand under his chin.

"I guess." You murmured.

Eddie smiles fondly to himself. He most definitely remembered that day. That night, most importantly.

"....well," He perks up, jumping up to stand. He was trying to be as optimistic as possible. Truthfully, on the inside, he was freaking out. If you weren't sitting there in front of him right now, he would probably be pissing himself. Eddie knows you would be an amazing mother to his children. He most definitely knows he would be a great father, too. A complete contrast to how his father was.

"Time to make some calls." He was already heading for the phone when you panicked, running over to stop him. "We can't not yet--i need to see a doctor first."

"To make sure I am...I mean I know I am, but I need confirmation,"you further explained. Eddie just stood there listening to you and agreed as he silently nodded his head.

"Okay, well, after we see the doctor, who are we telling first? Your parents or my parent?" He was so eager to tell everyone. He was terrified, but the more he thought about it, the more excited he became. A tiny little version of you and him mashed together, running around.

"We'll tell Wayne first." You said matter of factly. You loved your parents, but you were closer to his uncle. He was like a second father to you, and you couldn't imagine anyone else knowing before him.

Eddie smiles and leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

"You scared?" He whispered leaning his forehead against yours.

...a-a little, but we'll be fine." You whispered back. The longer it sinks in that you're pregnant, the panic seems to fade. Eddie wasn't angry with you. He was scared you could tell but that's to be expected.

"Don't be scared, baby. We're doing this together." He reassured before kissing your lips softly again. "M'gonna take care of you both."

It's been three weeks since you took your pregnancy test and had your doctor's visit. They confirmed you were, in fact, expecting. Two months, to be exact. You were greatfull you got pregnant in the winter. Oversized sweaters and hoodies were your best friends. Now, it was time to break the news to everyone.

Eddie and you had already agreed. Wayne was going to be the first to know. You had everything planned out. You had told Eddie to call his uncle and ask if he wanted to go out for dinner. Knowing Wayne, he wasn't going to pass up on an opportunity to spend time with either of you.

You wanted to surprise him with a gift. You know Wayne has a green thumb. He loves to garden. He brags about how he has the best tomatoes in Indiana. So you took Eddie shopping for the perfect gift to give to him as a cute way to tell him you and his nephew are having a baby. You hope he'll catch on and figure out he's going to be a grandpa when he opens his present. It's a little onesie with "Home grown" embroidered on the front with little veggies.

"I like this one." You pointed at the cute little outfit on the hanger.

Eddie chuckled,reading the front. "Wayne's gonna love it. Hell won't be surprised if he tried wearing it." He joked, picking up the tiny shirt off the rack.

You giggled, "I can't wait to tell him."

"Me too, I can't keep my mouth shut for much longer." He mumbled, smirking at some of the funny sayings scribbled on the baby clothes.

The longer you came to terms with the fact that you're pregnant, your stress eased up. Sure, you were still scared, but you had Eddie and your friends. Plus your family. You reassured yourself almost daily that you'd be fine and to enjoy your pregnancy. Every single article of clothing you saw you bought. Didn't matter the color or size. If it was cute, you picked it up.

Eddie was a nervous wreck in the beginning but concealed it well. Mostly because he knew he needed to be there for you. he was also excited, too. He couldn't wait to share his hobbies with his little one. Read them bedtime stories. Sing to them at night before bed. Teach them to play an instrument or two. He looked forward to showing up to the PTA meetings in his battle vest with his sweet "mini me" on his hip.

Eddie knew he was going to be a good dad. He promised you and the baby still in your tummy every night he'd protect the both of you. He couldn't keep his hands off your belly. You weren't far along in your pregnancy, but Eddie was constantly hoping he could feel a little kick.

"We should do the dinner today." Eddie mentioned holding a handful of baby clothes.

"He might wanna to do it tomorrow since he's off."

"I'll call'em when we get home and ask. he can't say no to me." You agreed. It's true Wayne can't say no to you. Which you will take advantage of.

Later on that day after you and Eddie arrived home. You put Wayne's surprise in a little gift bag with a note attached to it.

Picking up the phone, you began dialing his number patiently, waiting for him to pick up. He should be home by now. You thought. "Hey Wayne, it's me, your favorite. I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me and Eddie tonight instead of tomorrow? "

Eddie leaned closer over in the wooden chair sat by the dining room table. He scoffs when he heard you get extatic on the other end. Knowing full well, his uncle said yes.

"You will? Okay, we'll pick you up at five o'clock sharp."

"Favorite, huh?" He crossed his arms with a smirk.

"You know it." You playfully mess up his hair as you run to your bedroom to get ready.

"Yeah, well, I've known him longer... I have seniority over him!" Eddie yelled out, teasing you.

He gets up from his chair, making his way to your shared bedroom. He stands there leaning in the doorway. Admiring you getting undressed in front of him. Taking in every curve on your figure.

Eddie moves to wrap his arms around you from behind. Pulling your back tight to his chest. His nose buried in the crook of your neck. You smiled softly, melting into his arms.

"Ya know, I was reading that baby book you bought it said something about sex helping induce labor." He whispered seductively in your ear. His lips trailing light kisses down your neck.

You turned your head."...Eddie, that's not until months from now." You let out a breathy laugh.

"Yeah, but just think about how well prepared you'll be when the time comes - kid is just gonna slide right out." Eddie argued. You know half of him is joking, and the other half is completely serious.

"Get dressed, babe. we leave in thirty minutes." You peel yourself from his tight grasp.

"Offer still stands." He holds up his hands in surrender.

Fifteen minutes went by, and there was a loud knock at your front door. His uncle had driven over so you all could ride together. After much bickering from Wayne, you all packed in Eddie's van.

Wayne refused to let Eddie drive, so it was you and him upfront with your boyfriend sulking in the backseat. Mumbling to himself about how he's not that bad and how everyone else just drives slow.

You noticed Eddie's uncle looking at the small gift bag you made up for him. His eyes kept wandering over to guess who it was for and what was inside.

Once all three of you pulled up in front of the new local diner in Hawkins. You three gathered in and let the hostess walk you over to your table. You and Eddie sat next to each other in a booth, leaving wayne alone across from you. The waitress comes over taking everyone's orders. After she left, you figured it was the perfect time to give it to him.

You look up at Eddie, nudging his side to grab his attention. His uncle just got done scolding him over his breaks needing change.

"So uh, we got you a present," Eddie coughed. He doesn't think he can handle more lectures from the man who practically raised him.

But he straightened up his back, preparing for anything.

"Yep here you go hope you like it." You picked up the bad next to you and placing it front of him.

"For me?" Wayne grabbed it and started taking the tissue paper out. "It ain't ma' birthday yet."

He laughs when he pulls out the tiniest little shirt he's ever seen. "Home grown, that's cute...I don't think it's gonna fit me though darlin-."

He cuts his sentence, short eyes growing wider by the second. You and Eddie look over at each other, smiling from ear to ear.

"Is this what I think it is?." Wayne questioned with tears threatening to spill over his lashes.

"Yep we're having a baby." Eddie moved to wrap an arm over your shoulder and pulling into his side.

"We wanted to tell you first." You choked back a sob.

Wayne still gathering his thoughts. He's holding the small onesie in his hand like he's already holding your newborn baby.

"I-I'm gonna be a grandpa?" Wayne wiped at his eyes. His was starting to become overwhelmed.

Here come the tears from Eddie now. His eyes swelling up and nose turning red. He's never seen Wayne this over come with emotions before. The only time he's ever seen him like that is when his dad started his usual mess. That was always just out of anger and frustrations mostly. This was pure joy and happiness. Wayne has always wanted the best for his nephew.

"We're thinking of naming them, Ozzy." Eddie tried to joke and lighten the mood.

Wayne couldn't say anything but only shake his head at nephew. He cleared his throat, grabbing napkins from the dispenser on the table.

"We are not." You spoke up, wiping your eyes.

Your food finally came, and the waitress gave all three of you a concerned look. A table full of adults bawling their eyes out is a cause of concern. Especially in this town. It was only when she noticed the tiny onesie folded up neatly beside wayne on the table, did her worry look drop. She mumbled a soft aww and set everyone's food down.

"Congratulations to all of you." She said with a warm smile.

The rest of the night went on like normal. Except now instead of Wayne fussing at Eddie for not eating healthy. He was doing that to both of you. Telling you how you need to order seconds because you're eating for two. Informing Eddie how the trailer needs to be baby proofed immediately. The only thing left to do was tell your parents next and his friends. You can only assume which of the two is going to freak out the most.

You leaned over and whispered to Edde, "You wanna tell Dustin next ooooor-?"

He side eyed you. " We're telling your parents next - if it makes you feel better, I'll be on the phone so they can yell at me instead."

"Deal?" Eddie leaned back in the booth, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He was busy focusing on Wayne's ranting and your concerns about telling your parents.

You sighed, dreading that phone call, but knowing it needs to be done. "deal."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x pregnant!reader

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jiniretracha · 3 months

Text

Unfair - Hwang Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, teeny tiny bit of angst (if you squint), hyunjin being a softie and a romantic little shit!

Summary: After getting friendzoned, you rant to your best friend, Hyunjin, about how pathetic you are for not getting a date for Valentine’s Day. Hyunjin would never let the girl he secretly loves so much think so little of herself.

Word Count: 5.2k

MASTERLIST

“Ugh! I’m so pathetic!” you cried as you busted inside your best friend’s room. “Like, so pathetic”

Hyunjin was laying on the sofa, lazily sketching something on his notebook when he heard your cries, making his head lift up to look at you. “What happened this time?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

You sat down on the couch with a huff and crossed your legs under your butt. “I thought he was the one. And he obviously was not” you grumbled.

“Who?”

“Soobin! I can’t believe it” you face-palmed yourself. “I- God! I thought he was into me. Like, he was flirty all the time. We’d go out to eat, which I mistook as dinner dates. He’d take me to the funfair. Shit, he even gifted me that giraffe plushie which I’m obviously stabbing him til the fucking insides are laying all over my floor” you snapped.

Hyunjin was pressing his lips together to contain his smile. Not because you were miserable, no. Because you looked so freaking cute when you were angry.

“Stop smiling, Hyunjin. I feel like shit”

Hyunjin chuckled. “You’re so cute when you’re mad” he said.

“Not helping here”

“Sorry, sorry” he said, placing his hands in the air in defense. “I’m sorry that happened to you, sweetheart. Come here” he cooed, extending his arms, making you sigh and crawl towards him as he wrapped his arms around your body.

“I’m so pathetic” you whispered, feeling your eyes stinging with tears.

“What? No” he shook his head. “Do you think you’re the only girl in the world that got her heartbroken or got her hopes up over a stupid boy that couldn’t see what was in front of him this whole time?” Hyunjin rambled on. “That’s bullshit”

You felt your heart melt at his words. “Thank you for saying that, Hyunjinnie. Really, but I think this time I’m accurately depicting myself. I’m a pathetic loser”

He just chuckled against your hair. “You’re being mean to yourself”

“I deserve it”

“No, you don’t. So what if Soobin doesn’t like you like that? There are tons of other guys who aren’t blind as him” he said.

“Yeah, where are they?” you asked angrily.

Right here, Hyunjin wanted to say. “You just gotta keep looking” Hyunjin said.

You nuzzled your head into his chest, inhaling his scent. You wondered what it would be like to be with him. You obviously did. It had been three years since you met Hyunjin, and you couldn’t get over the fact that you loved him. It wasn’t every day that you make yourself a friend who’s an idol, and every single person on the planet wants and longs to be with him, so you weren’t stupid. Your chances of being with him were slim to none. You got your dose of liquid luck that got you there with him, being his friend.

“I know. But I’m just so tired of missing and missing the target over and over again” you rambled on.

“I get that. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have to keep trying, Y/N” he whispered.

You nodded. “I’ve got no date for Valentine’s. Can you believe that?” you asked, almost to yourself. “That’s what’s pathetic”

Hyunjin chuckled. “I don’t have a date for Valentine’s either”

“Yeah, but you’ll be on tour. Besides, you got seven dates”

“No, ew” Hyunjin shook his head. “I love them, don’t get me wrong. But no, I’ll pass” he said, making you giggle. The sound made his heart clench painfully in his chest. You don’t know I’d give my life for you to continue giggling like that forever, he thought. “I’m sorry I’ll be away. I was gonna offer you to be my date. Figured we could finish watching the last episodes of Daisy Jones”

You sighed. “It’s fine. You gotta be a superstar, duty calls” you giggled. “I wish I could go with you, though”

“Yeah, me too” he nodded. “Why don’t you come, though? I’ll pay for your tickets”

“I got work, Jinnie. I know you’d pay for them. You did that the two times I went overseas to watch you guys in concert. Best experience of my goddamn life, by the way” you said, making him laugh. “But, no, this time I’ll painfully pass. I love my little shop”

You had your own art supply shop, where you sold canvases, acrylic paints and all sorts of stuff that any artist in Seoul would need. Hyunjin stumbled across your shop three years ago and he loved it. He always found everything he needed for his artworks. But the best thing he stumbled across in your shop was the cute vendor that was smiling at him, asking if that was everything he’d need, if he needed assistance or the way you smiled whenever he’d talk.

The attraction he felt was so real and so scary to him, but he loved it. He felt he found the one. And that feeling didn’t change. It probably won’t. Ever.

“I know you love it. I love it” Hyunjin praised.

You lifted your head up slightly to look at him. “Really?” you asked in a small voice.

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah”

You giggled, pressing your head into his chest once again. You let out a content sigh and then closed your eyes, feeling exhausted after crying the whole way back to his apartment and putting up with your feelings for the boy your were laying on.

“You’ll stay here with Y/N, okay Kkami?” Hyunjin told his little four-legged friend that was sitting on the comforter. “You’ll be good to her, aren’t you? You like her more than you like me, anyways”

The comment made you giggle and pet Kkami’s hair. “He’s a good boy, Hyunjinnie. He’ll be okay here with me” you said.

“Yeah?”

You pressed your lips into a smile and nodded. “Absolutely”

“Great” he sighed with relief. “If you need anything, I wouldn’t say ‘call me’ because I don’t trust myself to be with my phone if you needed me, so I’ll just tell the guys downstairs that whatever you need, you can ask them. You can help yourself out with ev-“

“Jinnie” you stopped him with a laugh. “I do this everytime you go away for more than a week” you reminded him. “It is not my first rodeo”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right” he nodded. “You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Now go! You’ll be late” you scolded him, pushing him out of his room.

He chuckled and turned around, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Love you!” he called as he made his way out.

“Love you! Have fun!”

“Thank you!”

You shut the door and then looked at Kkami who was comfortably sitting on the bed. “You’re gonna be my date for Valentine’s, Kkami” you sighed.

Kkami barked at you, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, I know. Me too” you said, pressing your fingers into your eyelids. “I miss him too. And he just left”

ONE WEEK LATER…

Hyunjinnie: everything ok over there?

You smiled as soon as you heard your phone chiming with the personalized tone that Hyunjin had chosen for himself.

You quickly typed your answer back.

You: everything’s ok!! u?

Hyunjinnie: everything’s cool. i’m having so much fun, i missed touring honestly. but i miss u as well :(

Your heart literally melted.

You: you sweet little ferret. i’ll tell the kids.

Hyunjinnie: NO! please i’ll never hear the end of it if they know i’m a softie for you

You giggled.

You: for me and Felix, isn’t it?

Hyunjinnie: Yeah, you and Yongbokkie are the only ones i’m soft for.

You smiled and left your phone next to you when you heard someone coming inside the store. As the client finished their purchase and left, you heard your phone vibrating against the counter a few more times.

After the customer left, you quickly grabbed your phone.

Hyunjinnie: so, there’s only five days left for valentine’s day

Hyunjinnie: have you found a date?

Hyunjinnie: i’m sorry i’m sending so many texts. we’re currently having a mini break from sound check

You quickly typed your response, hoping he didn’t go back to sound check.

You: yes, i actually have

Hyunjinnie: oh…

The three dots appeared and then disappeared. Your eyebrows furrowed.

Hyunjinnie: who’s the lucky guy?

You: it’s actually someone you know pretty well

You: he’s been keeping me company these days. he’s lovely

Hyunjinnie: oh

You felt weird watching him reply to you. Wasn’t he getting it?

Hyunjinnie: what’s his name?

You: His name is Kkami. a charming little man ;)

Hyunjin didn’t reply for a solid 30 seconds, the longest thirty seconds of your entire life.

Hyunjinnie: oh lol. i really thought you got a date with someone real

Hyunjinnie: tell Kkami thanks for keeping my girl company

Hold up.

My girl?

Your heart clenched. And so did your core. But you weren’t going to admit that to anyone.

You: i’ll tell him

Hyunjinnie: y/n i gotta go :(

You: nooooo!!

Hyunjinnie: i don’t want to go. but i have to. i’ll text you later, promise!!

You: okay :)

Hyunjinnie: love you! tell kkami i love him too

You: we love you and miss u too hyune!!

You sighed putting your phone down.

My girl.

Yeah, you were not going to let that go.

TWO DAYS LATER…

Hyunjin sat in his dressing room, exhausted after performing for thirty thousand people for 2 hours straight, holding his portable fan in one hand and in the other, his phone. He scrolled his Instagram feed and smiled when he saw that you had uploaded an Instagram story to your close friends.

He clicked on it and his smile got even bigger. It was a selfie that you had taken with Kkami, with a text that said: My favourite cuddle buddy ❤️.

He swiped up, quickly sending you a direct message, reacting to your instagram story.

@hynjinnnn: you two are the cutest!!

@y/n.jpg: thank u <3 we miss u jinnie

His heart melted reading those words.

He instantly clicked on your profile and started stalking your photos. It was unreal the effect you had on him. How every single time he looked at you, or thought about you, his heart would clench inside his chest. Hyunjin was so in love with you, he didn’t know what to do with it.

He clicked on a certain picture, one that did things to him. It was one that you took on a night out with your friends, wearing a short dress that made your chest pop up nicely. He licked his lips and sighed. How is it possible that a woman like you didn’t have a date for Valentine’s? Are men really that blind?

His mind instantly went to Soobin. He knew the guy. He was nice, but Hyunjin really thought the guy was dumb. Did he actually see what was in front of him? Didn’t he notice all of the things Hyunjin sees in you? How perfect you are?

Hyunjin shook his head.

He was going to do something about this. He wasn’t going to let anything stop him from you having at least a little something for Valentine’s. He’d be damned.

VALENTINE’S DAY

You woke up from your slumber and immediately put a hand on your forehead, groaning as you sat up.

“Here goes my pathetically alone Valentine’s day” you said, hopping off the bed. You opened your closet and found the dress you had bought back when you thought you were going to spend Valentine’s with Soobin. “Yeah, you suck” you sighed, grabbing it and chucking it on the floor.

Kkami watched you with curious eyes and it made you chuckle.

“I guess I’m not that alone” you said, grabbing him and taking him with you to the living room.

You put the TV on, clicking on Netflix.

“Twilight it is then” you grumbled, and clicked on it.

As you got through the middle of the second movie, someone knocked on your door.

Your eyebrows instantly furrowed. Who was it?

You peeped through the peephole and saw the delivery guy holding a huge bouquet of red roses.

What the hell?

Slowly, you opened the door and smiled slightly at the delivery man.

“Hello”

“Hi, I’ve got a delivery for… Y/N Y/L/N? Is that correct?” he said.

Your eyes widened. “Yeah, it’s- that’s me. Who are those from?” you asked.

He checked the list and shrugged. “It… doesn’t say” he said, pressing his lips together. “I’m sorry”

“No, no, that’s okay. Do I sign?”

“Yeah, here-“ he said, handing you the paper and you scribbled your sign on it. “Thank you, have a great day”

“Thanks, you too” you said, as you took the flowers from

him and closed the door behind you. “Okay, what the hell?” you said loudly.

You placed them on the counter and saw that it had a card. You quickly grabbed it and gasped.

My muse,

Someone as beautiful and amazing as you doesn’t deserve to be alone on Valentine’s day.

I hope this makes you smile.

Hopelessly in love with you,

Hyunjin.

Your eyes started to water.

‘My muse’

‘Hopelessly in love with you’

Since when?

What does it mean?

Why would he tell you like this?

There was only one way to know that.

You quickly grabbed your phone and clicked on his contact.

You: what the hell???

You: the flowers? the note? what does it all even mean, hyunjin?

You patiently waited for him to answer, and about twenty minutes later, you got your answer.

Hyunjinnie: everything.

Hyunjinnie: it means everything.

Hyunjinnie: you mean everything.

You felt your cheeks getting wet by the stream of tears leaking from your eyes.

Hyunjinnie: i wasn’t going to let my girl be alone on valentine’s day. and as i can’t be there, at least i’ll give you a bouquet of red roses.

You smiled, biting your lip.

You: this is so unfair

You weren’t going to confess to him via text. No. You weren’t going to let that happen.

Hyunjinnie: what’s unfair?

You heard your phone chiming but you weren’t paying attention to it. You were too busy opening your laptop and typing on the airplane ticket website.

Hyunjinnie: Y/N???

ONE DAY LATER…

Hyunjin’s day off was supposed to be relaxing.

But it was the complete opposite of that. He had spent the entire day sitting on the couch next to the window of the hotel room, his leg bouncing up and down and checking his phone every ten seconds to see if he had a message from you.

He had confessed his love for you.

And you said it was unfair.

What did that even mean? Unfair?

He sighed, brushing his hands over his hair, over and over again.

Hyunjin jumped when he heard a loud knock on the door.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“It’s Jisung, open up” he heard his friend on the other side of the door.

He got up with a groan and opened the door. “What?”

“Well, hello to you to, brother. I’m fine, thank you for asking” he said with a sarcastic smile, walking inside his friend’s hotel room.

“What’s that?” he asked, noticing Jisung had something in his hands.

“You didn’t come downstairs for breakfast or lunch, so I figured you’d be hungry” he said, extending his hand and offering him a bowl of raw ramen.

Hyunjin smiled and grabbed it. “Thank you, Ji”

“You’re welcome”

Hyunjin clicked on the electric kettle and poured the hot water on the bowl.

“What’s on your mind, Hyung?” Jisung asked.

Hyunjin sighed. “I sent Y/N a bouquet of roses for Valentine’s” he said and then looked down. “And I haven’t received an answer yet”

“Oh man” Jisung sighed. “I’m sorry”

“It’s okay” Hyunjin shrugged. “I mean, it’s not, but we’ll see” he said, grabbing his ramen and eating a little.

Jisung sat on the bed. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to do anything with you being so far away” he said. “I mean, as far as I know, that girl is obsessed with you. She’s always smiling at you. Whenever we talk about you with her, her face lights up. Even an idiot can see that”

“You’d know that, don’t you?” Hyunjin tried to light up the mood.

Jisung snorted and flipped him the finger. “Ha-ha, so funny” he humorlessly said. “But seriously, I know everything will be fine. Don’t torture yourself with the what-ifs”

Hyunjin nodded, biting on his food. “Thank you, Jisung”

Han smiled. “No problem, Hyung”

He got up from the bed and patted Hyunjin’s shoulder. He got out of the hotel room and as he turned around to walk down the hall, he saw you running towards him panting heavily.

“Ji- Jisung, hi!” you whispered.

“Y/N?” Jisung asked confusedly. “What are you doing here?”

“It- it’s a long story. Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked.

“That’s his room, 806” He pointed at the door on the left.

“Thank you” you sighed.

“No problem” he said, getting inside his own room. “See ya”

You waved and then nervously walked towards Hyunjin’s room. You let out a shaky sigh and knocked on the door.

Hyunjin got up from the hotel room couch, leaving his ramen on the table. Did Jisung forget something?, he asked himself, looking around his room.

He walked towards the door, without checking who it was and his stomach dropped when he saw you standing there, panting.

“Y/N?” he stammered. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

His thoughts were cut short when he felt you tug his head down with your hand by the nape of his neck down to crash your lips against his. His brain short circuited, but quickly put his hands around your waist, pulling you against his chest. You pushed him backwards, inside his room and he kicked the door shut with a thud.

His tongue ran over your bottom lip, bringing you back to reality. You needed him to know.

“Jinnie-“ you said, breaking apart from the kiss.

Hyunjin looked at you and then back at your mouth. “What?” he asked, before pressing his lips against yours.

You smiled, pulling away, and held up the card that was delivered with the bouquet he had gifted you. “This…” you whispered. You saw his eyes flickering with anxiety. “I’m in love with you, Hyunjin. I just… I never ever thought you’d love me back” you chuckled.

He smiled and pressed a loving kiss on your lips. “Of course I am. I’m crazy for you” he smiled against your lips. “You’d think I’d let a friend sleep in my bed, with my dog, and lend them my clothes, and let them cuddle with me?” he asked.

Well, no. Now that you thought about it, the signs were clear.

“Oh…” you said, realizing it. “I’m an idiot”

“Hey. Stop talking about yourself like that, Y/N. You’re amazing. Perfect, even. And so, so, so ethereally beautiful” he mused.

You pressed your lips together, looking down at your shoes with shyness.

Hyunjin brought a hand over to your cheek, caressing it. “I love you, Y/N”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips, a long one. “I love you, my Hyunjinnie” you said against his lips. “So much”

After he brought your bag inside his room, you kept staring at him with lovey dovey eyes. He then turned around and you blushed, his stare making you nervous.

As he kissed you once again, his arms came around you, turning you around and walking you towards the bed with him. He carefully dropped you on the bed while devouring your mouth, which you could barely keep up. He was everywhere. His hands were roaming every single inch of skin he could find while he drowned himself into your drugging lips.

Before dropping himself on top of you, he grabbed the neck of his shirt from the back and pulled it over his head. His toned stomach made you gasp, as you’ve never seen Hyunjin shirtless. He smirked as he noticed your reaction, and he crawled towards you, pushing his face close to yours, in an intimidating manner.

“What is, hm?” he murmured against your mouth before pressing a kiss to your lips.

You licked your lips and raked your nails over his toned stomach. “You’re so beautiful, Hyunjin” you whispered.

“Says you” he chuckled.

“Yeah?”

You felt a surprising amount of courage that made you sit up and pull your own shirt over your head, leaving yourself sitting on the bed wearing your skirt and your pretty white lace bra that you chose for the occasion in case you were to get lucky.

His eyes visibly darkened and dropped to your chest. His mouth pressing against yours with passion made you gasp against his mouth. He pressed you back against the mattress and his hands came up to grope your tits, making your back arch in pleasure.

“You don’t even know the things I’ve been wanting to do to you ever since we met” he whispered against your mouth. He then pulled away and continued his trail of kisses down your neck. “Fuck, you’re so perfect”

His words made your stomach flutter with warmth and you carded your hands through his hair.

“Hyunjin” you whispered into the air.

“What?” his voice came all muffled by your skin.

“Touch me, please” you sighed.

Your voice made his knees buckle. His hands went towards your jeans, undoing them and almost ripping them down your legs. He smirked slightly, watching you from above as you laid on the bed only in a matching set of white underwear.

His tongue came to lick his lips and then pressed a wet, long kiss on the skin of your stomach, making you gasp a little. His mouth started to trail down the kisses down your navel, and onto the band of your panties. He tugged the band with his teeth and let it snap back against your skin. His long fingers grabbed the hem of your panties and dragged them down your legs.

His gaze immediately fell on your core, and it made you self-conscious. You didn’t know why. This was Hyunjin, someone who never made you feel bad about anything. A true gentleman.

Your thoughts vanished when you felt his palms on your thighs, pushing them apart so he could get a good view of your core. He bit his lips and sighed.

“You’re dripping, princess” he murmured, his fingers scooping up some of your wetness and he pressed them on his tongue, licking them clean. “Fuck, I need to taste you”

You didn’t even have time to think, because he was pouncing on you, and started devouring your pussy like it was the last meal of his life. You couldn’t even moan properly, your breath hitching on your throat as you processed what was going on.

His nose bumped with your clit, while his tongue kept pushing in and out of your entrance. Your hands went straight to his hair, pulling every once in a while, making him moan against you.

“Hyun- Hyunjinnie” you moaned, arching your back. “Fuck”

“God, I love it when you say my name like that” he said, pulling away from you and slapping your core, making you yelp. “Say it again”

He then dove right back into business, making your eyes roll back into the back of your head, while your toenails kept digging into his back.

“Hyune” you sighed, as you felt your orgasm closer and closer. “Hyune, I’m gonna come”

“Come, baby. Come all over my face” he whispered, continuing his ministrations.

Your head violently pressed against the mattress as your back naturally arched while your orgasm hit you like a truck. Hyunjin moaned at the taste of your orgasm, lapping up every single drop and not letting anything go to waste.

With uncontrollable gasps, you opened your eyes to find Hyunjin on top of you, his face wet from your orgasm. He kept licking his lips and staring at you with the most enamored gaze ever.

“What?” you asked, with a little smile.

He pressed a kiss onto your lips and then bit your bottom lip. “Nothing. I just was admiring my girl” he said against your lips.

You smiled and your hands went down to his jeans, unbuckling his belt and trying to stick your hand inside his pants, noticing his hard rock erection against the fabric.

His hand stopped your movements. “I wanna come with you, inside of you” he whispered, making you blush.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you found a slight ounce of courage.

He smirked, his hands going over your back and unclipping your bra, carelessly throwing it away behind his shoulder. He could only stare.

He couldn’t comprehend how beautiful you were.

You felt nervous, and you grasped onto one of his hands, moving it towards one of your breasts, making him squeeze it and brush his thumb over a nipple, making you moan slightly.

His other hand joined as well, and then his mouth. He sucked at one of your tits, while the other one was being assaulted by his hand.

“Jinnie, fuck me, please” you whispered into the air.

“I will, baby, I swear I will” he muttered against your chest, moving onto the other one. “Your tits are fucking amazing, I swear”

You bit your lip to contain a smile.

He lifted his head from your chest and pulled down his jeans along with his boxers, making his cock slap against his stomach. Hyunjin was big, you weren’t going to lie. And most definitely, what you were expecting.

His hands went to the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his wallet. He took a condom from there and quickly ripped it open, putting it on.

“I can’t believe I’m here” you said out loud.

Hyunjin finished putting the condom on and crawled back on top of you. “Believe it, baby” he smiled and pressed a long, loving kiss on your lips. “It’s happening”

You felt him nudge against your entrance and you bit your lip, holding onto his shoulders. He pushed his cock in and you gasped, arching your back.

“Fuck me, you’re tight” he whispered against your neck. “So, so tight, baby”

“You’re big, Hyunjinnie” you whispered.

“You okay?” he asked, lifting his head and letting his hands brush your hair away from your forehead, the action made your heart flutter. “Am I hurting you?”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no, I swear”

He smiled and continued with his movements, his hips kissing your pelvic bone with each thrust. You could only moan against his neck and hold on to him.

“Harder, please” you pleaded. “I know you want to, give it to me like you want to” you repeated over and over.

Suddenly, he pulled out and grabbed your hips, turning you into a face down position. He slapped both your ass cheeks and grabbed your hips, so your knees were resting on the bed with your chest flat on it. He pushed his length inside of you from behind and thrusted into you so hard it made your vision cloud with white spots.

“Yeah, fuck!” you moaned against the sheets.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” he asked, sweat dripping from his body. You couldn’t answer, really. You couldn’t even form a proper sentence due to his erratic thrusting. Hyunjin slapped your ass again and it made you yelp. “Answer me, Y/N”

“God, yes, I love it” you moaned.

“Good” he groaned, grabbing your hair roughly and pulling you into his chest. His hands went around you, one on your neck and the other one around your stomach, holding you tightly. “I love you, God, I love you” he whispered against your neck.

Your hands carded through his hair and you held onto him. “I love you, Hyune” you moaned as he kept hitting your sweet spot, over and over. “Fuck, I’m gonna come”

“Good, come around me. I wanna feel you” he groaned.

Your back arched as he kept kissing your neck, while his hands gripped onto your tits. With a long moan, you orgasmed around him, without any help from his hands.

He gently laid your body down, on your stomach, while he kept thrusting in and out of you, searching for his own orgasm. Hyunjin gripped your hips as he felt himself getting closer to the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, baby” he kept whispering as he thrusted one, twice and then emptied himself into the condom. Once he had finished, he carefully laid next to you after taking out the condom and throwing it away inside the trash, his hand going to brush your hair away from your face, so he could stare at you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fucking amazing” you sighed with a smile.

He chuckled, caressing your cheek.

You stared at him while biting your lip. “I love you, Hyunjin. So much”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your lips. “I love you, my muse”

ONE YEAR LATER - VALENTINE’S DAY

You opened your eyes slightly, shifting under the sheets and immediately groaning at the pain that you felt in between your legs.

It was all his fault.

He had bought you a new set of underwear and he had ripped it away from you as soon as he saw you in it. And he was the one to blame for the soreness inside your thighs.

You heard soft pattering coming from the hallway and you sat up to see your boyfriend coming inside your shared room, holding a tray with breakfast. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of boxers, which made you bite your lip at the sight.

“Hello, my muse. Good morning” he smiled putting the tray on the bed and crawling on the bed to sit next to you. “Happy valentine’s day” he whispered before kissing your lips.

“Happy valentine’s day, my sweet boy” you kissed him again and again, not able to get enough from him. “I love you. And thank you for this”

“I love you. And you deserve it” Hyunjin told you, grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this. All of you. But I’m so thankful I have this. You” you told him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“God, me too” Hyunjin sighed.

You smiled, feeling so content with the life you had.

Kkami took you both by surprise by jumping on the bed, making you giggle. “Hey, little man” you smiled at the pet, who wagged his little tail and then barked.

“You wanna know what he said?”

“Oh, God. What?” you asked laughing.

“He just said, happy valentine’s day, mommy”

“Mommy? I’m his mommy?” you asked him.

“Of course” he nodded, kissing your lips. “I wouldn’t want anyone else”

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #stray kids #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin imagines

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bluemari23 · 3 months

Text

hello soulmate | min yoongi

summary: your first day on the job doesn't turn out the exact way you envisioned

pairing: min yoongi x hype employee reader

genre: soulmate au, soulmarks, fluff,

warnings: running, unhappy coworkers, some injury

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

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Running was not your forte, and neither was breathing apparently as you choke trying to get air into your lungs as you reach the fortunately empty elevator.

You were running late, and you were seconds away from being fired on your third day of work. You had just gotten the job as one of the content creators for a variety show through one of the big four entertainment companies, and today was the first official day at the company.

HYBE was bigger than you imagined, and thus, the reason you were late. You had gotten lost on the first floor and then there were issues with your ID card getting past security. But you manage to reach the 12th floor in record time and use the piece of paper you received the last meeting to find the correct room.

It was slight chaos when you opened the door, unsurprisingly as you now realized who you would be working with for the variety show. Everything was kept top secret until you were approved by HYBE and showed up on the first day, after signing numerous NDA’s of course.

The BTS boys were having fun and running amuck as they waited for the shoot to start. It was supposed to be just a fun shoot, numerous arcade games set up throughout the room and a table set in the middle where some challenges were going to take place later on.

You looked around after taking in the room, trying to set eyes on your director. Eventually you find him talking to your fellow creators, going over the different challenges that would be taking place.

“—After the water bottle challenge, we’re going to move onto the karaoke booth.” You arrive just at the tail end of the run through, but you manage to understand anyways, seeing as you all had a copy of the schedule for the day.

“Where have you been? Never mind, you’re working on the individual camera today.” Your director questions you but doesn’t give you any time to explain yourself before moving on and assigning you your task. You quickly nod your head, before moving to grab one of the video cameras from the table.

You would be in charge of taking individual behind the scenes videos and photos for the social media accounts. You had seen episodes of Run BTS before and knew how much moving you would be doing today.

Again. Running wasn’t your thing.

“What are you doing?” You turn your head to see a slightly older woman in front of you, her hands on her hips as she looks towards the camera in your hands.

“I was assigned individual shots today, Ma’am.” You respond as politely as you can, getting bad feelings from the woman in front of you.

You could almost feel that you would be having problems with her. You tried to be respectful though, not wanting to step on anyone’s toes on your first official day.

The woman just looked you up and down, her nose crinkling a little before she spoke. “Just don’t get in my way. I’ve been doing this longer than you have and don’t need some inexperienced newbie messing up my photos.”

You can only nod before she is walking past you, bumping into your shoulder on her way past.

‘What the heck?’ you think, turning to watch as she steps forward and begins to talk to one of the supervisors who was in the middle of talking to Namjoon. Shaking your head, you move to the edge of the set, close to the basketball arcade shot game.

You had a good view of the other games from here and felt you could maneuver through the set easier from where you were set up. Bringing your camera up to your eyes, you begin taking some practice shots, making sure the lighting was good and the settings on the camera aligned with what you wanted to photograph.

It took you some time, but eventually you were able to begin taking photos of the boys who had come back to mess around with the games after getting changed and before the actual shoot started.

You were so focused on the pictures that you didn’t even notice one of the boys moving up to you.

“Hi! You must be one of the new creators! I’m Taehyung.” The bright eyed man bounced right up to you when he noticed you, hand held in front of you to shake your hand as he introduced himself.

You put your camera down, smiling softly as you brought your hand to meet his, introducing yourself. As you did, you caught his attention on your wrist, where your soulmark resided. The initials of your soulmate were written in short, quick writing, the gray M and Y staring back up at you since the minute you turned sixteen.

Taehyung’s smile only seemed to widen once you introduced yourself, a twinkle in his eyes that wasn’t there before. You could barely blink before the director was calling for the boys to get into place; the shoot was about to begin.

You smile as you watch him bounce away again, his energy levels palpable as you hold your camera up again.

The next hour was spent moving slowly throughout the edge of the set up game room, trying to get as many good shots as you could. You noticed that Taehyung gravitated towards you and seemed to pull Yoongi with him to play the basketball game, Jungkook following behind to try and battle against the basketball player.

You moved closer to get a picture of both boys making a basket and scoring a point when someone stepped on your foot causing pain to radiate up your ankle and shin. A gasp leaves your lips as you look towards your left to see the woman from earlier, a glare set on her dark eyes as she almost pushes you aside.

You end up tripping over the cord to another game and just barely manage to catch yourself on the corner of said game before injuring yourself or ruining the shoot. You were so focused on the pain in your foot you didn’t even notice the burning in your wrist as your soulmark gets darker.

You didn’t notice the three men witnessing the entire thing, nor the dark looks Taehyung was sending to the older woman. A break was luckily called soon enough and you tried to move away back to the far wall but a hand on your arm stops you.

“What was that? I thought I told you not to get in my way?!” The older woman steps in front of you, her hand still gripping tightly to your forearm.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. It won’t happen again.” You grit out as politely as you can, the pain in your ankle making you want to sit down but you knew you needed to just go along with what she was saying, not wanting any trouble.

“No. Don’t apologize.” You both turn to your right to see Taehyung, Yoongi and Jungkook, all three eyeing the hand gripping onto your forearm. The woman is quick to release you when she realizes what the boys were seeing.

“Oh boys! Don’t worry about this. I’m just giving some advice to the newbie.” The woman was quick to put on the sweet tone as she speaks to them. You just want to roll your eyes.

Pulling your arm back to your chest, rubbing against where you knew her grip was going to leave some bruises. Your sleeve had rolled back down and your forearm was on full display, along with your soulmark.

“Advice? It seemed like you stepped on and pushed someone out of the way. That is not okay nor something we want to see happen between our employees.” Yoongi’s voice was low, each word spoken slowly as if to ensure the woman knew exactly what she had done.

Jungkook moved to you while Taehyung and Yoongi were talking to the woman, his hand holding onto your own, softly and a huge contrast to the woman as he tilts your forearm around to see the spot where the woman held you.

The skin was red and he knew it would bruise. This was unacceptable and he would make sure that the woman would be reprimanded for her actions. As Jungkook continued to look over your arm, his attention was caught by your soulmark, his hyungs initials on the inside of your wrist.

‘No wonder Taehyung kept bringing him to where you were…’ Jungkook mused, a small smile on his lips as the thought of Taehyung trying to bring you two together.

Well, no time like the present.

Taehyung agreed, as his next words caught the attention of everyone.

“You hurt Yoongi’s mate.” Your eyes widened as your head turned quickly to see Yoongi already staring at you, your faces both sharing the expression of shock. Jungkook was still holding your wrist, bringing you the two feet until you were right in front of Yoongi.

You were silent, trying to process everything as Yoongi looked down at your held out wrist, his initials written in his own handwriting. Slowly, he pulled his own sleeve up, showing you his soulmark.

Your initials were written in your own soft script, smooth cursive showing on his inner wrist, the same spot as your own.

You were lost in your own world, oblivious to all of the noise and emotions happened outside the two of you. Yoongi slowly brought his hand to your wrist, his thumb rubbing over the top of your soulmark, gray turning to a dark black as the soulbond snaps into place confirming Taehyung’s suspicions.

“Hello, soulmate.” A gummy smile burns into your retina, a memory you never want to forget as warmth erupts in your soul.

#min yoongi #yoongi #bts min yoongi #bts suga #suga #min yoongi x reader #hype employee reader #yoongi x reader #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #yoongi solumate #bts yoongi soulmate #soulmarks #bts yoongi #suga x reader #fluff #bluemari23

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lnfours · 6 months

Text

all mine | l.n

summary: friends with benefits situations are all fun and games until someone starts catching feelings.

warnings: language, sexual themes, fluff, kinda fwb!au, college student!reader, idk this kinda sucks

masterlist | listen

₊��°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the two of you had been up for an hour or so, way before the sun had started to rise and shine in through the windows of his bedroom. the same sun that lit up the boy in front of you so perfectly that he almost looked angelic. the way his eyes shone in the lighting, the mix of blue and green suddenly entrancing you as he hovered over you.

your hands came up to run through his messy curls. you smiled softly at the fact that the soft tangles were your doing, beings your hands were just buried in his hair a few moments prior. then, your mind wandered and thought how you could live the rest of your life contently if it meant you would be waking up next to him every morning.

he moved his head to the crook of your neck, placing kisses along the skin as you tilted your head to give him more access to the area. yeah, you could get used to this every morning.

you knew he’d never think the same way, especially when you were the one who made it very clear that it was a no strings attached situation. he’d never feel the same way because even you weren’t supposed to feel this way.

however, as he moved to rest his chin on your chest so he could look up at you, it was all you could think about. and he could tell the gears in your head were turning when your smiled softly faded, eyes still locked on his.

he cocked his head to the side, an eyebrow slightly raised as he looked over your facial features, “you okay?”

you blinked, nodding and smiling softly, shaking your head in efforts to get the thoughts to dissipate, “hmm? yeah, sorry, just kind of zoned out for a second.”

he knew you better than that, shifting as he moved to lay next to you, head resting on his palm, “i know that look, you’ve got something on your mind. sure you don’t want to talk?”

it wasn’t fair. he was so kind, gentle, caring, all of it. and you couldn’t even call him yours.

you nodded, “yeah. thanks, though.”

he hummed, reaching over and grabbing his phone from the nightstand. you held a mental debate with yourself on if you should stay and bask in the warmth and comfort of not only the boy next to you, but the way too comfortable bed you were laying in.

“wanna make breakfast, or go get something or whatever?”

mind made up: go before you slowly start entering the hole you were slowly but surely digging for yourself.

you threw the comfort off your body, wincing slightly at the cold air around you. god, this is so hard. it shouldn’t be this hard.

“‘m gonna go, actually,” you said, grabbing your clothes from last night off the floor, shoving some things back in the overnight bag you happily packed after classes yesterday, “‘ve got some homework.”

he tried to mask his frown, knowing he shouldn’t be upset about the fact that you didn’t want to stay. you probably shouldn’t anyway, but he really wanted you to.

there was nothing lando loved more in the world than you and your company. was it worth breaking the agreement? worth losing a friend and someone he could talk to? maybe, maybe not. he knew what he wanted, and it was you. however, he couldn’t quite put a finger on what you wanted.

he had even wondered if he was the one you’d think about at night when you couldn’t sleep, staring up at the ceiling. because you were the one he’d always manage to think about. it was always you.

you were slipping on your shoes when he came back to reality, “i’ll drive you home.”

you nodded, watching as he got up from the bed and grabbed the hoodie that sat on the floor. the same one he wore last night, the one you were desperately pulling him closer by after a few episodes of the show the two of you had started last week.

he tugged on a pair of sneakers, grabbing his phone and wallet before leading you through his house. you trailed behind him, really not wanting to go back to the house you shared with your roommates, but you had to. if you stayed here any longer, every single line you both had made clear a few months prior would be crossed. a friendship would be jeopardized.

simply, the thought of ruining everything wasn’t worth it. was it?

he grabbed the keys to the mclaren sitting in his driveway, “do you have everything?”

you patted the pocket on your hoodie, feeling your phone and taking a glimpse inside your bag, “looks like it.”

he nodded as the two of you walked out of the house. he opened the door for you, just like always did, closing it behind you. he climbed in on the drivers side, starting the engine.

“you sure you’re not hungry or anything? don’t want a coffee or a tea?”

you looked over at the boy next to you, smiling softly and shaking your head, “‘m okay, thanks though.”

he nodded, pulling out of the driveway and handing you his phone to play music. you started playing the playlist you had made on his spotify account, a mixture of both of your favorite songs.

however, the music you were playing wasn’t even being paid attention to as you both were in deep thought the whole drive. both thinking about the other and how you both desperately wished things could be different. how you were both feeling the same way towards each other, just the other was too scared to admit it first.

he pulled up in front of the house, a soft sigh leaving your lips. partially out of relief because you were home and you could work on the work you’d been stressing about all week, but partially out of disappointment.

“want me to walk you up?”

you grabbed your bag, shaking your head, “no, ‘s okay,” you smiled softly, “thanks for, erm…”

you trailed off when your eyes met his. he laughed, noticing the slight blush rising to your cheeks, “don’t have to thank me.”

you nodded, “right, sorry.”

“don’t have to apologize either,” he smiled, “i’ll uhm… see you later?”

you nodded, desperately wanting to lean over and kiss his cheek, like you normally would’ve. but you knew if you did, you would eventually start kissing his lips and you’d never stop.

“yeah, i’ll see you later.”

you opened the door, climbing out and shutting the door before walking up to the house. he watched you make your way up to the door, fishing for your keys in the mess of the bag. you put the key in and turned around, sending him a small wave.

he waved back, pulling away once you walked inside the house and shut the door. you let out a breath, leaning against the wood for support and running a hand over your face. after giving yourself a second, you made your way into the living room.

“oh my god,“ the brunette, sarah, said with a teasing smile, “you’re able to walk after a night at lando’s? what a miracle.”

you flipped her off, causing the blonde, ashley, to snort from her place on the couch. you hung your bag on the barstool, sitting down and grabbing the bowl of cereal from sarah.

“oh, yeah, sure,” she mumbled, throwing her hands up in the air, “i wasn’t eating that.”

you gave her a look, shoving a spoonful of cereal in your mouth.

“you’re awfully quiet,” ashley said, entering the kitchen now as she stood at the coffee maker, “you alright?”

you were silent for a minute, both your roommates looking at you with concerned looks before you spoke up, “i don’t know.”

they both had the same expression, eyebrows raised, “what do you mean?”

you dropped your head onto your arm as you groaned. the two girls looked at each other confused before ashley questioned you, “y/n? what’s going on?”

“i like him.” you said sitting up.

sarah rolled her eyes, pulling the bowl of cereal back towards her, “well, yeah, tell us something we don’t know.”

“no, i mean,” you huffed, “i like like him.”

“okay,” ashley said into her coffee cup, “and what about that?”

“i can’t!”

“what do you mean you ‘can’t like him’?” sarah said, mouthful of cereal.

“i can’t like him because if i like him, it’ll be breaking the rules. and he’ll never like me back because of ‘em,” you said, “i wish i never came up with them in the first place.”

sarah snorted, “hold on,“ placing the spoon in the now empty bowl, “you think he doesn’t like you back?”

“i don’t just think, i know.”

ashley looked over at sarah and the two girls snickered. you gave them confusing looks.

“what? what’s so funny?”

“y/n, i love you,” ashley said, “but you’re an idiot.”

“it’s a good thing you’re really pretty because you’re completely oblivious.” sarah agreed. you sent them both confusing looks.

“what’re you talking about?”

“y/n, come on!” ashley laughed, “open your eyes! this man doesn’t like you, he’s in love with you.”

you gave them blank stares before you shook your head, “no, there’s absolutely no way-“

“think about it,” sarah said, “would he show up and bring you flowers every time you two go out? would he stop by and bring you a coffee, or a tea, or something to eat, which he’s literally memorized the orders for by the way, every time you’re studying? he knows you well enough to know that if you’re focused hard enough, you forget to eat and that you can’t study without some form of caffeine.”

“plus, the way he looks at you,” ashley added, “his face literally lights up every time you enter the room.“

you felt your heart go to your throat, but you somehow managed a croaked out response, “you think?”

“please,” ashley said, “we know. plus, ‘ve asked him.”

you and sarah looked at the blonde, a simultaneous, “you what?” slipping from your mouths.

ashley shrugged, raising her hands in mock defense, “i just wanted to know!”

“what did he say?”

“when did you ask?”

she put her coffee mug down, “it was the other night, he was watching you two laugh and dance at that stupid, lame ass party we went to. he was literally watching you the way they do in movies when they love someone,” she said, “so i asked him, ‘do you like her?’ and he nodded and kind of blushed a little bit before he was like, ‘maybe a bit more than that’.”

“oh my god,” sarah said, looking over at you. you sat there in shock for a minute before looking at your friends.

“what do i do? what do i say?” you asked the two girls looking at you.

“just talk to him, tell him how you feel,” ashley said, “it’s not like anything could go wrong, you already know how he feels.”

she had a point.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

it was evening now, the sun setting through your curtains as you sat at your desk. you hummed along to the music playing through your headphones, scribbling down the rest of the notes you needed for this week.

you tilted your neck to the side, trying to fight through the aching pain in your muscles as you had sat at your desk all day. the music got quieter for a second before a soft ping rang through your headphones.

lando

how’s schoolwork going?

you smiled softly, clicking on the notification before typing back a response.

pretty good, actually. kind of wish i had taken a break to go out to get dinner with the girls.

you went back to your textbook before the woosh came through this time, another text popping up in the messages between the two of you.

have you not eaten today?

you looked at the clock, 8:30pm. well, shit…

guess i was too wrapped up to realize 😅

the bubble appeared on his side of the conversation, another sound playing through after he sent his message.

fancy some dinner company, then?

you smiled again, and if your feet weren’t tucked under your legs, you were sure you’d be probably be kicking them. god, he had you whipped.

as long as you bring something good.

he was quick to respond this time.

be there soon.

and he was a man to his word, showing up to your house almost forty minutes later. he had texted you that he was pulling up so you could open the door for him. once you opened the door, you smiled at the boy who stood with a bag of food in his hand.

“hey,” he smiled back at you. you stepped aside to let him in.

“hey,” you said, the two of you making your way to the kitchen as he set the bag down on the island, “whatcha get?”

you tried peeking in the bag but he pulled it away from you before you could look. you looked up at him as he sent you a teasing smile.

“close your eyes.”

“lando-“

“just close your eyes,” he chuckled back. you huffed, a soft smile on your face nonetheless as you closed your eyes. he pulled the takeout container, placing it in front of you before he fished out his.

“okay, open.”

you glanced down at the counter and your smile got wider. your favorite dish from your favorite restaurant sitting in front of you. your eyes met his as he smiled at you.

“you went all the way across town?”

“yeah,” he shrugged, popping open the lid to his dinner, “that’s what took me so long. sorry about that, by the way.”

you shook your head, “it’s okay,” you said, opening your own container, “i just… thank you.”

you smiled up at him and he swore he’d do the drive a hundred times if it meant you got to look at him like that.

“don’t have to thank me.” he said for the second time that day.

the two of you ate and made some comfortable conversation. most of them being jokes and the other giggling at them. he followed you up the stairs to your room after, the door closing behind him.

you sat down at your desk as he plopped onto your bed, “how much do you have left?”

you hummed, skimming through your notes and checking the check list on your computer, “another page or so,” you glanced over at him, softly wincing from the pain in your neck, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“your neck sore?”

you nodded, digging your fingers in the muscle to try to relieve the pain, “yeah, guess that means i’ve been sitting here too long.”

he got up from his spot before coming up behind you, his hands brushing yours to the side as he dug his finger tips into the aching muscles. you let out a soft sigh, letting him rub away the soreness, “god, that feels good.”

he smiled softly, “‘s it helping?”

you nodded, “yeah, actually.”

he continued for a couple seconds before you turned around to look at him in your chair. you searched his eyes as you tried to read them, but you got too distracted by the color of them to fully assess. he smiled softly down at you, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“what?” he asked, a chuckle following after.

“do you think about that night?” your mouth was moving before your brain could filter it, “the night we made that agreement?”

he shrugged, sitting back down on the bed now, “i mean, kind of, but not all the time.”

“do you regret it?”

he furrowed his eyebrows at you, “why would i regret it?”

you looked down at your hands, “because i do,” his heart dropped, but you immediately snapped your head up, “not like that! not like that at all. god, that’s not the way it was supposed to sound coming out of my mouth.”

you took a deep breath, his facial features becoming unreadable, “then how did you mean it?”

“i mean, i regret giving us these stupid rules,” you said, “like the one where it’s supposed to be ‘no feelings involved’, that sort of thing.”

he sent you a questioning look, his heart skipping a beat with hope, hope that you’d feel the same way, “why?”

“because i may have broken that rule.”

he searched your eyes, immediately his heart jumping up to his throat.

“so did i,” he said.

you smiled at each other from your seats before he was pulling you towards him, mumbling a soft, ‘c’mere,”

you straddled his thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck as one of his grabbed your waist while the other cupped your cheek. he leaned forward and kissed you softly, your hands finding the curls on the back of his neck.

he was the one to deepen the kiss, his tongue licking at your bottom lip before sucking and nibbling on it softly, knowing exactly how to make you weak. and it was working as you found yourself softly moaning into his mouth. he moved his hand from your hip to your ass, grabbing at it playfully causing you to giggle.

you broke the kiss, “i already knew how you felt, i just wanted to hear you say it.”

he sent you a look, silently asking how you would’ve known before his eyes widened. you laughed softly as he rolled his eyes.

“fucking ashley,” he mumbled against your lips.

no one could wipe the smile off his face even if they tried. you kissed him passionately, pushing back on his chest as he laid back onto the mattress and brought you with him. you hovered over him as you bent down, kissing him again. his hands found their place on your hips yet again, you absentmindedly moving against his hips gently.

he hummed contently against your lips, fingers moving under the hoodie you were wearing, a different one than the one you had on earlier, “is this mine?”

he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear as you bit back a smile, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, “maybe..”

he laughed, shaking his head as he pulled at the bottom hem, helping you out of it, “you look better in it anyway.”

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x reader fluff #lando norris x reader imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 imagine #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #ln4 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff

3K notes · View notes

leejenowrld · 3 months

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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satorugu · 6 months

Text

In Every Era Part 2 (Sukuna x f!reader)

She is the reincarnation of his love, and he plans to be with her in every era.

PART 1 HERE

Warnings: Blood, violence, fighting, angst, lots of fluff

Note: The readers technique relates to ice and being able to lower the temperatures around her enough to create it. If the text is italicized it is one of the dreams she had. All take place during the Heian era, both Heian era and the version of Sukuna in Itadori's body is included. Takes place during the Shibuya Incident, and quotes the episode's sub at times.

The dreams hadn't stopped.

First, it was that night, the night she fell asleep in his arms.

Then she had another one following it.

Then a third.

It was always a memory from her point of view, so vivid she felt she could still feel his touch when she woke up. They were small, but they got her through the night, always sleeping straight through it.

That kiss was imbued with cursed energy. She didn't know how, but she knew that had something to do with it.

She couldn't take her mind off of it.

Every single night.

"Curses and mutations are mindless, you don't need to harness much cursed energy to exorcise them, although it is made out to be that way," Sukuna said. "If you make a hit on them before they can attack you, you have a better chance at survival."

She was sitting on his lap, up upon his throne. His body heat radiated onto her shoulders, his strong abdomen pressed against her back.

"Is there a reason you're sharing this with me?" (Y/N) asked curiously.

"So you will utilize this information when the time may come my dear," he told her. "Aim for the head."

"I don't think it will ever come," she laughed.

"You are correct to assume that," Sukuna said, putting a hand on her waist and pulling her closer to him. "I won't allow for anyone to harm you."

This was a trick.

The King of Curses wouldn't and couldn't possess emotions like these. He murdered hundreds of thousands, known to be the most powerful sorcerer in history. He needed something from her, to get her to trust him so he could use her and kill her afterward.

These memories were false, she was sure of it.

So she began avoiding Itadori, training after hours and for longer durations to be able to both strengthen herself and not be confronted by the eyes below his. In the end she would return to her dorm exhausted, forgetting that when she fell asleep she would be greeted by what she fled most.

Then a week had turned into a month.

"Master Sukuna had a gift delivered to your dressing room," the maid said almost timidly to (Y/N), as she bowed her head.

She made an emphasis on the fact it was in her dressing room rather than her bedroom. Being that her quarters were Sukuna's, the only part of the palace that was officially hers was her dressing room, which translated to a massive closet. It was filled to the brim with the nicest jewelry available in the lands, along with dresses he had especially picked out for her. It was also a known fact that the garden belonged to (Y/N), although it wasn't claimed by her. She fell in love with the area, so he made it off limits to others.

Unfortunately for her, he was away, handling a nearby village.

Two more servants gathered at the large double doors that led to the dressing room, opening them for her.

Inside was a large bouquet of flowers, white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. It was as if they were glowing, vibrant and perky underneath the lighting. The vase was a piece within itself, like clear vines that curled around the stems of the flowers and bunched them all together.

Next to it sat a scroll, bound together by a cursed energy imbued seal. She was quick to unravel it, reading the hand-written, inked message.

'Although I am far away, I will remind you of my love.'

'These flowers are eternal, they will forever stay by your side, just as I will.'

'Sincerely, Ryo.'

She didn't think much of the dream, assuming it was some way of trying to make her think he actually loved her. Instead, she lingered around the campus after hours, honing a new ability with her ice technique. Once she grew sleepy, she returned to her dorm, entering the dark room to see something glowing on her desk.

It was a vibrant and perky flower, with white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. While it didn't sit in a vase, it was unnaturally filled with life, acting as a light in pitch black atmosphere.

She thought she was hallucinating, reaching out a hand to pick it up, hoping it would dissolve as soon as she touched it.

The flower sat in her room for a week after that, as she continued to deny the significance behind it.

(Y/N) thought she could get out of having to see Itadori, but it seemed otherwise when another crisis hit.

A large curtain was cast around Shibuya, along with one at Meiji-Jingumae Station. Reports that mutated humans were attacking civillians inside were quick to spread, and both (Y/N) and Itadori were sent to handle it.

"I'll deal with the mutated ones, you search through the station for anymore hostages," she told him quickly, hoping they wouldn't have to interact much.

As soon as the two had met up inside the city, the eyes underneath his own appeared. They felt familiar now, a burning reminder of the dream she had the previous night.

They were in his bedroom, if it even could be called that.

It was larger than the average, with a desk that sat by an extravagant stained glass window, and a large table towards the center. The bed for the two of them sat against the wall, both of them already out of it, yet choosing to stay in one another's company.

Sukuna stood around the table, eyeing a set of scrolls as his wife sat at his desk. The chair was far too big for someone of her size, which he grew to love.

“I want to perform a binding vow between you and I,” he started.

“A binding vow?” (Y/N) asked, having yet to take her eyes off what she was reading.

“A pact bound through Jujutsu, except this one has specific terms accounted with it.”

As the words left his mouth he slipped his hand around her jaw, taking her by surprised as she looked up at him.

"I want to be with you in every era, as you pass, and once you are reincarnated. We will be bound together, it will be destined for you to wed me."

"And it's consequences?" she wondered.

"There are none, this vow is unable to be broken, it will see through that we are meant to be," Sukuna said. "And that you will remain mine."

She wasn't that knowledgeable on binding vows like the one he described, except for the fact it was supposed to leave a mark on your wrist. (Y/N) didn't have one though, so she assumed it was false.

A mutated curse barreled towards her, shards if ice being driven through it's skull as her pink haired friend ran down the hall. She flipped over it's corpse as it fell to the ground, attacking the others before they could make a move on her, and aiming for their heads.

The efficiency behind it was impressive, as she scolded herself internally for doing as the King of Curses had once advised.

And yet she continued for what felt like an hour, going through the motions up until the lights flickered off and she could hear fighting in the lower levels of the station.

Something was off.

(Y/N) jumped down the set of escalators and began running through the station that was almost unrecognizable. She could tell Itadori had fought here, as the remains of his strength imprinted different surfaces.

She was following her gut at that moment, turning down a set of halls until she saw a light bloom at the end of one. She could feel the heat as she got closer, as it formed an orange and yellow blur.

Screams came after the flames.

Two girls who had somehow survived being burnt alive, each coughing and holding onto one another.

As she turned the corner she saw him, Itadori, laying against the wall unconscious. He was littered in cuts, specifically his shoulder which was bleeding out. A special grade curse, Jogo, stood over him, a finger in his hand as he slipped it down the pink haired boy's throat and tilted his head back. She recognized him from the time he fought Gojo, as her eyes lingered over Itadori's figure.

(Y/N) could see the markings on his face.

She thought she might throw up.

"Don't waste my time," the special grade squinted is eyes at the three of them.

He went to lift up his arm and attack, only for it to begin bleeding out in front of him.

"I'll give you one second."

It felt like everything had frozen in place.

Silence in the dark hallway.

"Move."

The special grade fearfully jumped back, now a line of four.

(Y/N) felt her hands tremble, as sweat formed across her forehead and her heartbeat picked up in her ears. They were all that way, as the figure slowly stood up and brushed himself off.

Strength of a different kind than Satoru Gojo.

Overwhelmingly evil.

Fear that even the slightest move could lead to death.

He began to come towards them, as the wounds across his body healed themselves.

As his footsteps grew louder, she felt as if she might pass out.

Then they stopped, and he brushed his hair back in orderly fashion.

"You hold your heads quite high."

That voice.

It felt like there were invisible hands that wrapped around her back, guiding her down to a bowing position without control over her own body. She ended up in the same formation as the other two girls, as a wave brushed over top of the four that would have killed them.

"Did you believe taking one knee was enough?" Sukuna questioned.

The top of Jogo's head was cut off, considering he only kneeled. It was similar to a volcano, purple blood spewing out the top as he bled out.

"The greatest men bow the lowest, or so it goes. I see you value your heads quite lightly."

She could feel him looking down at her, as she stared at the cold floor and begged that whatever this was wasn't real.

She was terrified.

"You brats, I'll start with you," he said. "You wished to speak to me, yes?"

The girl nodded, tears staining the concrete surface below her.

"I'll grant you a fingers worth of audience. Now speak."

"Below us there's a man in monk's robes with a suture across his forehead," the dirty blonde began to say. "Please kill him, please free Geto-sama."

(Y/N) recognized that name, although she thought the man who had it was dead.

"We know the location of one more finger," the girl added. "If you'll kill that man for us, we'll tell you where it is."

"Raise your heads."

(Y/N) still kept hers down, although she could see the two girls raise theirs through her peripheral. It was a moment of relief, as he seemed to have agreed to their terms.

Red.

The head of the brown haired one next to her burst into nothingness, blood coating the other girls face as her corpse fell backward.

(Y/N) felt it splatter onto her uniform, shock pulsating through her veins as terror overrided her senses.

"MIMIKO!" the blonde screamed, shaking the lifeless body next to her.

"Did you think a measly one or two fingers would grant you the right to order me around?" Sukuna asked with amusement in his voice.

It seemed the girl couldn't care less, continuing to scream out her friends name.

"How offensive."

"SUKUNA!" she cried out in anger, slipping out her phone. "DIE!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, it sounded like a blade had cut through something. Similar to the one she heard months ago, when he had saved her.

Then, it sounded like several cuts going at someone at once.

One corpse turned into two, except the blonde had no remains. He killed the both of them without lifting a finger, a copious amount of blood being the only proof.

"You all are desperate," Sukuna turned to Jogo almost knowingly.

(Y/N) felt the invisible hands that once held onto her gently guide her to sit up again, looking at the King of Curses.

"This is the reward for the cursed fingers, come at her," he said, making eye contact with her. "If you manage to land even a single blow on her, I'll work under you all."

"What?" (Y/N) said under her breath, she felt like she couldn't breath.

Jogo slowly looked at her, as if he was making up his mind.

There was no way he was considering this.

"You're true to your word, yes?" he asked Sukuna.

No.

(Y/N) stepped back, like her legs were going to come out from under her at any second.

This was suicide, she couldn't fight him.

"Yes."

Jogos demeaner changed, as Sukuna's hands remained on his pockets and the curse went to face her. He held out his hand, a ball of fire forming within it, as (Y/N) tried to conjure ice in her own.

Again she was airborne.

Too quick for her to react as it all happened at once.

A familiar pair of arms held her bridal style, as she felt herself rest on his chest. It was cold, the fall wind curling around the two as they had fled the building.

He casually dodged them vast amount of fire-charged bullets being sent at him, as he looked down at her.

"Your avoidance has been quite amusing, I see you don't understand yet," Sukuna said, his tone changing into a softer one.

"What have you been doing to me?" she spoke boldly, like a wife would to her husband.

It made him smile, as he leaned on the edge of a building that Jogo shot more bullets at. Soon enough they were inside of it, Sukuna casually walking through a corridor as fire burned around them.

"That's my thank you for ensuring you sleep well?" he spoke teasingly. "I've been restoring your memories, although I knew you would doubt them to the best of your ability."

"They're not real," she mumbled, forgetting what he was capable of.

"And yet how relaxed you are in my hold says otherwise, little one," he said. "Your body reacts naturally to my touch."

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply but the words never came out, as he jumped through the window of the building and met Jogo's fist. Sukuna was currently holding her securely with one arm, taking up the curse in hand to hand combat. He was quick, catching every single one of Jogo's attempts before holding onto his hand and slicing through his arms with his cleave technique.

The Special Grade was sent flying back, as he shot another beam of fire energy out of his head and (Y/N) watched it blow a whole through a building.

She had never seen a fight like this before.

Sukuna caught up with Jogo, taking his free hand that wasn't carrying her and wrapping it around his cape, throwing him down towards the streets. Smoke emitted from the area that he hit, as he continued to bounce off of it from the force before Sukuna came at him again. This time, he bashed his head into the ground, taking them below the level of the city floor.

She felt the King of Curses abdomen tighten against her side, as he laughed to himself. (Y/N) wasn't looking at him though, as her eyes were on the curse that hadn't landed even a single speck of dust on her.

His free hand slipped underneath her jaw, turning her head to face him.

"Impressed are we?"

Suddenly everything around the two seemed to burst into flames, as the blue skinned curse screamed out and flooded the street with Lava.

This was hell.

Sukuna didn't even react, as a wave of it blanketed over them, yet never touching their skin. He jumped up onto a building that was soon crumbling underneath the hot liquid as well, continuing to dodge without question.

The entire city was on fire, as hands made out of lava held onto two office buildings and lifted them up out of the ground. They surrounded the both of them, Jogo standing on a rooftop in front.

(Y/N) thought she was dead.

Out of pure instinct she took her arm around Sukuna's neck, burying her head into his chest and squinting her eyes closed.

It was only when she heard the sound of the buildings being bashed together, that she realized what she had done. Instead of feeling the impact of her skull being crushed, she felt a delicate kiss be pressed to the top of her head. A large hand then held her hair in a comforting manner, keeping her against him.

"Do you trust me, little one?" he asked her softly, low enough that Jogo couldn't hear.

"Yes."

(Y/N) felt weightless, like she was on one of those amusement park rides that threw you up into the air. Except for the fact that there was no harness, and nothing holding her anymore. Sukuna had thrown her up so far she felt she might touch the clouds, watching his figure dart towards the curse and throw him into a sky scraper.

She could see Jogo come out the other end of it, soaring through the air as Sukuna stood above him. The King of Curses drove his hand into the Special Grades head, sending the two through a roof of another office structure.

Meanwhile (Y/N) began to descend, screaming out and watching as the windows on each level shattered with each level Sukuna shoved him through. She grew anxious as time passed and nothing happened, until the bottom of the building burst out into flames and traveled upwards. She could make out the smaller details of the city now, as she picked up speed in falling and felt the wind course through her clothes. Her best bet was trying to use her ice to impact the fall, although she became distracted by what happened before her.

The building that Jogo had blown up began to form into a ball of fire, and Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.

Or so she thought.

She was trying to conjure up enough cold air around her to form the ice needed to brace her, but knocked into something else, throwing her off guard.

She wasn't surprised when she felt his heartbeat against her side again, but he moved at unregistrable speeds.

Suddenly they were on the ground, in the middle of the street, underneath the meteor Jogo was creating. All of the people around Sukuna froze in place, fear evident in their eyes.

Everyone knew who he was.

"I hereby forbid every person in a 100-meter radius from moving until I say 'now," he started. "And of course, I'll kill anyone who violates that rule."

The silence was horrifying, no one daring to take a step.

"Not yet," he teased.

(Y/N) could feel his hands underneath her weight doing something, as if he was now controlling the ball of fire above them.

"Still not yet."

The ground began to tremble, as it came closer.

"Now."

The sound was overwhelming, as Sukuna brought himself up above it as it crushed everything beneath. He sat down on the meteor, adjusting (Y/N) so she was sitting in his lap, his hands around her waist. Jogo was in front of the two, having yet to turn his back around.

The atmosphere around them was a swirl of orange smoke and broken glass that looked like stars. It floated gently in the air, as more debris from the architecture around them crumbled.

"I've grown tired of this, so I will fight you with your own specialty," he said, allowing for (Y/N) to get up as he stood and faced the Special Grade.

She stepped back, quick to cool the temperatures underneath her feet so she wouldn't burn.

Fire began to emit from his fist, beginning to curl around his figure.

"Arm yourself."

Jogo formed a small sphere of fire in his hand, as Sukuna stretched his own out to form an arrow.

The Special Grade burnt to ashes within a moments notice, while the King of Curses turned around to face the woman behind him.

"Your denial is in vain," he said. "There is nothing I am not capable of, and your death would have already occurred if i wished for it. In your moments of fear you trusted me by instinct, the vow formed between us guiding you to me."

"I don't understand."

"Because you don't want to," he corrected, coming closer to her. "Allow me to show you."

The king lifted her jaw up, taking his hand around the side of her face and kissing her lips.

It felt unworldly, as she slowly returned it and could feel him smiling. Her wrist suddenly tingled, making her to break away to see what caused the sensation.

It was a mark on her wrist, the same one that was on Sukuna's forehead.

"I will love you in every era," he said, taking a step back.

The markings on his face faded, his hair returning to hanging down.

"What happened?" Itadori asked.

She looked into the eyes underneath the original pair, not knowing what to say.

But she understood now.

A/N: I have a part 3 in mind. If you're interested let me know!

Tag List: @daydreamshenanigans @witchmoon10 @@spiderlilytengu @sircatchungus @sunshine7queen @yandere-consumer @emryb @96jnie @frogzxch @toshirolovebot @rottinginvelvet @rorel1a @cax-per @butteredwalnut @sweetcoorpse @mynewblackdress @serafina-nyx @karmazwrld @gambighoul @honestlysublimecherryblossom @sy557 @mag-chan

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna imagine

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lumibuns-blog · 6 months

Note

Omggg i saw the new episode of jjk and it gave me such a big idea i think you'd love. Imagine one day sukuna finds his wife that he married thousands of years ago and due to their marriage his wife was granted immortality. And just like she never cheated or kissed another man just waiting for her husband to return and when they reunite (even if he doesnt say it) he is over the moon and just wants to never leave his wifes side ever again. Just much fluff and romance ahhhh

OMG THIS. THIS IS SO CUTE

Sakuna x reader fluff

Sukuna scoffed to himself, the boy had finally allowed him to take control after all this time. Even in this deep underground it felt good to feel the air on his face and not through that brat. He continued forward. Thousands of year of stored power and he had been reduced to a fraction of it, despite the immense power he held he couldn't help but miss the time when he ruled over the landscape, unchallenged.

He had a partner even, the one human who he couldn't bring himself to kill, the one he realized he couldn't live without. You had married him, been granted immortality by his hand, and still he had lost you. His last memory before being split and exorcised, was you running to him, crying his name. He was happy that was his last memory.

Sukuna tore himself from his own thoughts, they so often drifted to you but right now he wanted to use the small amount of freedom he was granted.

He moved his hand foreword, fire erupting from his fist as he threw the heat forward, it crashed through a wall, tunneling through the train station. He heard peoples screams like music to his ears, he walked foreword through the rubble. People ran, screaming, away from him. Fire cast from all around him, bursting every human in his sight into flames, he hummed contently to himself.

"S-Sukuna?" A feeble voice trembled from beside him

He knew that voice, he knew that voice, he slowly turned, a truly befuddled expression on his face, his lip curled as he dare not get his hood up but...

There you were, you looked exactly as gorgeous as the last moment he saw you, nothing changed, your clothes were more modern of course but there was no mistaking it, you were here.

"I knew it was you!" you cried, tears streaming down your face. You threw yourself into his arms.

He was too stunned to speak, his arms unmoving, all he could he process was the blood running down your leg, he moved his arms to gently put you down,

"Sakuna-"

"Did I do this to you?" He asked, his hand moving down to your leg, activating he reverse curse technique to heal the gash. He just couldn't believe that he had hurt you, it had been 1000 years and the first thing he did was hurt you

"Oh my love don't worry about that now" you smiled gently, you had always forgiven him no matter what he did

You moved a hand to his face to gently tip his head to look at you.

"I thought you would have found someone else by now, had a family moved on, I mean I'm sure you have" his voice grumbled low in his throat

"I would never" you leaned your forehead against his "I haven't touched a single souls since I lost you, I-I knew you would come back just like you promised"

Sakuna remembered the promise he had made to you that dim moonlit night, on the engawa of the palace you shared, that he would never leave you, even if the world fell apart he would always find you.

"I've missed you" he whispered moving his lips to kiss yours, he moved back to take in your entire person

"Your as beautiful as the day I lost you" he breathed

You smiled sweetly

"What the hell is going on?!?-" the onlooker was silenced as his head burst into flames

You continued to smile as if it was nothing

He picked you up bridal style, "we'll go find the house we used to share" he smirked to you

"I'd like that" you giggle

'Hey what the hell is going on' the brat who's body he had been forced to posses voice rang out in his head

Sukuna slapped his face "just shut it would ya" he growled to himself

"What was that?" you questioned from his arms

"I have a lot to explain" he breathed out

#jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x oc #jjk imagines #jjk sakuna #sakuna ryomen #sakunaru #sakuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x oc #sukuna fluff

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tiredmamaissy · 6 months

Text

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode III

Calm After the Storm

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, heat cycle, extreme knotting, marking, scenting, territorial/possessive behaviour, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, belly bulge, actual breeding, let me know if I forgot anything?

Word Count: 6.3k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Happy halloween guys! I know I literally fell off the face of the earth and I will make another post to address that. But I know I haven’t participated for @pandoraslxna ‘s kinktober event (I’m so sorry bby) but if I could only participate for one of the days it would be today for sure. So I definitely wanted to get this out before midnight. It’s not purely a/b/o but honestly entails all the aspects of it. I think we can all definitely tell who’s the alpha and omega here (Ralak is alpha material hands down, ofc). I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I apologize for such a wait <3 Also I feel like I’m a bit rusty, so apologies for any typos, errors, or just plain suckish writing.

ALSO a big happy birthday to my babe @neteyamsoare <3 love you and hope it was a good one!!

Synopsis: Your heat starts to subside, but Ralak’s rut is only getting stronger. What could possibly go wrong?

<- Previous -> Next

——

Only an hour has passed before you feel your not-so-gentle giant stirring behind you, waking you from your sleep. You’d both been on your sides for too long now and everywhere seems to ache. You whine when you feel his hips shift against you, tugging at the immense pressure between your hips. The bulge protruding from your lower abdomen has barely gone down and you feel almost as full as you did when he initially emptied his load inside you.

Silken strands of his hair fall onto your prickled skin as he props himself up on his elbow from behind you, perching his chin on your throbbing shoulder. He inhales deeply – longingly. His hot breath gently blows against your neck just as you feel his arm snake under your leg and yank it back in one rough tug.

“Ralak.” His name falls from your lips through a nearly inaudible croak. “‘m so full.” You barely mumble out, rolling your head to the side. Yet, the flame within you is without a doubt reigniting with a vengeance.

And he can sense it.

Simply by the way you push back into him, making that bulge in your belly protrude a little more. His large hand resting on your stomach can indubitably feel it. And the smile that it puts on his face is almost baleful, bearing his lengthy canines that yearn to sink deep into you once more. “Sorry, tìyawn [love].”

He just can’t help it.

No matter how hard he tried. The desire—no, the need—to fuck into you and claim you as his time and time again is… irrepressible. In this moment, nothing else felt better than your little, used cunt hugging his cock so tightly that it almost hurts. He yearns to fill you over and over. Again and again until your womb is overflowing with his seed. The mere thought has his balls pulling tight to his body, firming up by the second all just to flood your womb again.

“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak growls into your neck, sliding his hand down to your inner thigh. “I will try to be–” He groans slowly, his pointer finger now burrowing itself between your tied pelvises, “–flrr [gentle].”

The final accented word comes out roughly, and if it weren’t for his finger slipping past his knot and into your cunt, you would’ve probably heard it clearly. You yelp out when he traces his finger around his knot, stretching your already taut skin, attempting to work a little space to allow his bulge to slip out.

It's all consuming and you’re simply too overwhelmed with his size that you fail to realise how your body is synced with his and bearing down to push him out. All whilst he’s struggling to fight the snap of hips to avoid hurting you. But the tugging is nothing like you’ve felt before adn you can finally understand why he was so insistent in the first place.

ut there was no getting out of this now, not that you even wanted to.

“It–it’s…” You brace yourself by grabbing onto his forearm, “...t-too big.”

“Ngaytxoa [sorry]” He huffs out his fourth apology, losing himself once again as his hips finally jerk back out of his control.

Pop.

His knot slips out of you with such force that the squelch it makes is as loud as your whimper. It’s so wet and slippery that his cock follows behind his knot, sliding out of you effortlessly. He’s more than half-hard yet so heavy and hung it rests close to your knee. Then you feel it. His cum dribbling down your thigh, still warm and sticky as if he just filled you up seconds ago.

It’s such a conflicting feeling — a mixture of relief and pent up frustration. Your heat is still in full bloom, despite it being so quenched until you’re almost nauseated. It’s as if you were two pieces perfectly linked together, allowing nature to run its course with no second thought. He grunts when he feels the crisp night air against his groin, his cock now springing up to its full length in just a few seconds.

He, too, feels some sort of feverish way now. Itching to be back inside your warmth, enveloped by your gummy, slimy walls. He opts to pepper wet kisses along your neck, and then up to your jaw, lingering there as he tries to distract himself from the ache to shove it back inside you.

Until it becomes too much.

“Tanhì.” He moans into your ear, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open as his tongue trails the skin on the back of your neck. “Need you.” It’s his way of begging for permission. Permission to slam his cock back inside you and hammer into you until the annoying itch deep in his core goes away again. You were the only one to make it go away. To stop the hurt. “Please.” He whines out a plea of desperation, now gritting his teeth from the way his stomach is tensing. “Now.”

But that last plea wasn’t much of a question, no. It was more of a demand. A way of saying, ‘give it to me, or I’ll take you on my own terms’.

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath, sliding your free hand down your side to hook it under your leg. You pull it back and reposition your hips to give him access to your cunt. “P-Put it in, ‘Lak.”

Ralak’s hips begin to stutter — the leaking, mushroomy tip of his cock now repeatedly prodding between your puffed up folds. His breath turns raggedy as he tries to guide himself back inside you handsfree. Your slick is overflowing, making it even more difficult for him to align himself with your entrance. The frustration brewing within him bubbles over when his cockhead glides past your swollen clit instead of sinking in your cunt. So he pulls back in one swift move and —

Thrust.

Your body jolts from how quickly he slams every inch of his cock inside you, forcing you split-open. Ralak huffs a shaky sigh of relief, his breathing growing a little steadier now that he’s deep inside his mate. Meanwhile, your mouth hangs agape yet no sound falls from your lips. Your eyes well up with tears and your ears lay flat against your skull. Your body is in complete submission to the beast dominating it and there’s nothing else you can do but give in to the pleasure.

“Your scent.” He whispers open-mouthed, tips of his canines grazing the nape of your neck. “It is driving me crazy.” You release the breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. You didn’t even know what to say. Not like you could really say much right now anyways. You’re too lost in the fog of your own heat. For once, Ralak is doing most of the talking. “It makes me…” He snaps his hips back, only leaving half of his length inside you. “...lose myself completely.”

A deep roll of his hips.

A lewd moan dripping off your lips.

“How do you do that?” He huffs, pressing his teeth against your neck. You don’t answer yet again. You just can’t find the words. Not right now. Not when he’s so deep inside you. “Hm?” A deep growl vibrates up his throat, his teeth just barely piercing the first layer of your silken skin.

“I—” You’re cut off by your own squeal when you feel the sting of his bite. Your breath catches in your throat and he immediately unlatches, lapping at the nicked skin to soothe it. “Sorry.” He whispers breathlessly, planting a quick kiss on each of your marks. “Sorry. Sorry.” A few more apologies flow from his mouth, as if he were drunk off of too much fermented fruit. Somewhat lucid but still so spaced. “I cannot —ngh— help myself.”

Thrust.

“‘M sorry.”

He knows he went a little too deep just now. But you feel so fucking good around his cock.

Chomp.

Another mark. Right on the bend of your shoulder, next to your first.

“Ngaytxoa [I’m sorry]”

A small cry from your quivering lips.

“S-Stop. No more apologies. I am yours to do what you p-please with.” You finally get out in one, weary breath.

Ralak’s languid, deep thrusts are laced with desperation. And with each stroke they become harsher and harsher. Faster and faster. Now he’s got your full permission he lets go once more, falling into the thick fog of his rut.

Within seconds his cock is pumping in and out of you, his half-deflated knot continuously prodding and poking at your entrance. The tip of his cock drags against your walls, putting an immense pressure right on your sweet spot. Yet still, sounds barely fall from your flushed lips. You’re too out of it. Too focused on the raw sensations rippling through you all at once. His overwhelming pheromones. His marking. His relentless pounding.

Rather, hot tears well over your eyes and stream down your face.

He can’t stop slamming himself inside you. He doesn’t want it to stop. It’s absolute rapture and he’s unapologetically drowning in it.

“Tanhì. Tanhì.” He groans needily. “y/n.”

He only says your name when he’s serious about something.

And hearing it drip from his tongue onto the nape of your neck has your hairs standing high and your clit throbbing.

“Eywa. Yes, ‘lak? T-Tell me what you need.” You blubber out, tightening your grip on his forearm.

“Haa — spread yourself.” He demands, prompting you to tuck your leg back as far as you can. His pace quickens, hips striking you with a sinful vengeance. But no matter how hard he fucks you, or how deep he buries himself inside you — its just not enough. He needs to be closer. To be deeper. To really be inside you. To knot you.

“More.” He grunts, slowing his thrusts into rocking, grinding himself inside your slippery, tight cunt.

You go to tug at your leg and meet nothing but resistance. “I-I’m trying.” You can feel it now. Perhaps it’s the bond or maybe it’s the way his knot is working you open but he’s growing more and more frustrated by the thrust.

“Mmmh. Wider.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” You’re quick to answer, feeling nothing but pressure from the way he’s trying to shove more of himself inside you.

“Agh.” He growls in frustration, pulling out of you and grabbing you by the ankle to flip you onto your back.

Ralak situates himself between your legs without hesitation and pushes them so far back your knees graze against the tips of your ears. You can barely breathe in this position and are having a hard time seeing anything else but his raging cock at your entrance. You can feel the burn in your thighs from how far back he’s shoving your knees but that sting is masked by the pleasure of him plunging himself back into your pussy.

The moan that rips from your lips is obscene and like no other. The crown of his cock is drilling itself directly into your sweet spot, causing it to swell with unadulterated pleasure. And each time he pulls out just to sink it back inside you he winds you in the process – making you sputter out absolute nonsense. Even he knows you're close, despite being in the thick of his rut.

But frankly, he doesn't care.

All he’s concerned about is satisfying his own urges.

“Not enough.” He grits through his teeth as his eyes shift to an even deeper shade of mauve. “‘ts not enough.” He pants, voice laced with something of worry. Panic that this feeling won’t go away. It makes you panic too, wondering if you’re doing enough for him. If he’s going to take even more from you. If you can manage it.

“You’re okay. Do what you need.” You try to reassure him, grasping your feet and holding them back–opening yourself up even more. But fuck, that only made things worst for you.

And by worst, you mean better. It feels like you’ll burst any second now, especially with how much pressure is on your bladder. “Fu-ck me. God, fuck–ahaa-fuck me.”

His brows bunch together as he peers down at you, beads of sweat rolling off his face to drip onto your chest. His jaw is so tense it looks as if it may fracture. He’s grunting with every push and huffing with every pull.

“Right there! Fuck. I’m close. I’m so fucking close. I-I need you to cum i-inside me. Oh—please ‘lak. Please!” Your cries are choked and muffled, breaths short and raggedy. The heat pooling in your core is unbearable. It needs out. Now.

Ralak swallows. Hard. Through his own haze he can see that you’re in need too. He shuffles closer to you, tucking his feet under him to assume a squatting position. Now he’s all but on top of you, folding you into a merciless mating press. This one shift in position has you coming undone on his cock, coating it in your thick slick as you sob from the white hot pleasure. The force of your climax has you pushing him out and only has him drilling himself further inside you. If it’s not for the way your pussy walls tighten around him surely his knot would have popped inside you by now.

He’s still fucking into you, right through your orgasm and towards his.

“Say what you need.” He panics through a tightened jaw, grinding himself inside you – pushing his knot against the resistance.

You know what he’s actually asking from you. To say something. Anything to tip him over the edge. To rid him of this maddening itch.

“Breed me.” You whisper, locking eyes with him. You watch as his pupils blow into thin rings and then constrict into nothing but dots. You try to swallow what spit you could, attempting to clear your throat. “Breed me. Please.”

“Then take it.” He lets loose a sinister growl, putting all his weight into his final push. For the first time, you feel his knot pop inside you, veiny and as thick as can be. You let out a high-pitched whimper, and feel your teeth begin to chatter. That doesn’t make him ease up, though. He continues to grind himself inside you until you feel the familiar, warm sensation of his sticky seed spraying inside you – filling your womb to the brim. His cock throbs wildly, in perfect synchrony with his own heartbeat, and soon yours too as the bond equilibrates your souls once more.

Strangely, you thought you’d be sore and overstimulated by now, but your body has never felt better. You’re full and content and more than satiated. Ralak heaves a sigh — one of pure relief. It’s glued to his face. All panic washes away and he’s feeling more at peace the longer he remains inside you. He’s rigid, firmly holding his position on top of you — ensuring he empties every single drop inside you. Yet, his heavy lidded eyes begin to close.

“I can’t breathe.” You mumble, snapping him out of his tranquil trance. His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth pulls into a little smirk. He exhales a breathy chuckle and carefully manoeuvres you both into a more comfortable position. He settles himself on his back and supports your body whilst positioning you on top of him.

“Better?” Ralak husks, drawing circles into your back with the tip of his finger.

You take a deep breath, filling your lungs to full capacity and then slowly release it. “Much.”

“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]” His accented words slur together as he dozes off.

“Nga yawne lu oer, Ralak [I love you].”

——

Ralak woke repeatedly throughout the night for his fill. If it wasn’t him, it was you. Waking up in a clammy state, shaking and nuzzling into his chest from your heat. You honestly thought that the more time passed — the more rounds you went — the more he would calm down.

But, you thought wrong.

He’d start by leaving tender kisses wherever he could, whispering he’d do his best to be as gentle as he can be. Then, he’d slip a finger inside you, stretching you out in attempts to pull his knot out without hurting you. But it would always sting, even just a little bit. After that he’d beg. Pleading with you to let him back in, and apologize right after plunging inside you regardless of your answer—which was always yes.

At this point your own foggy haze would take over. Perhaps it was your body’s way of coping with the overstimulation, but you pined for every single second of it. Sometimes it would last for a few minutes. Where he’d be quick to fold you in two and growl in the shell of your ear, ‘you’re mine, haah — fuck, take me’.

Sometimes it was closer to an hour. Where you’d both be so tired you’d take breaks, lazily taking turns fucking each other, telling him to ‘put it back in’ whenever he’d slip out. But one thing remained the same every time. You’d sob when you’d cum and then beg him to breed you. And he would, without a doubt, breed you.

Mercilessly.

And with each breeding, he’d lose himself a little deeper. Knotting you over and over. Marking you repeatedly until your body’s littered with bites. Until you were so fucked out you’d lost the feeling in your legs. Until your throat was so dry you could barely speak. Until you needed a break.

——

“Wait.” You crawl towards the bedside table with wobbly knees. “Just need some water, Lak.”

Ralak pounces on you, knocking you onto your stomach and pressing himself against you. You extend an arm out, fingers splayed out and shaking from you trying to reach the cup of water Ka’ani left there more than a day ago. Ralak grabs your hips and hoists you up onto your knees and elbows, and mounts you from behind.

“Water. Water, Lak.” You beg with a hoarse cry, only for him to line the crown of his cock up with your sopping cunt. He growls next to your ear as he stretches over you and reaches for the cup of water, filling his cheeks and putting it back down within a couple seconds. With a quick grip of your jaw, he turns your head and meets his lips with yours.

Before you can process what’s going on you’re gulping down water as fast as you can. And when he pulls away, you’re yet again met with the hazy eyes of his rut. That’s when it dawns on you that whilst your heat is coming to an end, his rut is only getting stronger.

Rather than looking away, he locks his gaze onto you, just so he can watch your face screw as he slams his cock inside of you in one, hard thrust. It works a sudden, breathy moan from your mouth, eyebrows pinching together from the stretch. He holds his position, basking in the warmth and tightness of your cunt as his breath goes shaky.

“Wait.” You mumble weakly, shoving a hand behind you to push against his lower stomach. “Please.”

For the first time, you were telling him to stop.

His jawbone flutters as his eyes search yours. Restraint plasters to his face, and the only audible thing is his heavy breathing. He nods. Just once. A firm and intentional nod. He swallows the residual water left in his mouth and tenderly pulls out of you. You hear the thud of his footsteps quiet down as he nears the marui door, and then the splash of the water when he dives into the rough sea.

It’s pouring outside.

Storming, actually. Thundering and lightning. Yet he feels this is the only way he’d be able to resist the urge to storm back in and fuck you. But the instinct to protect his mate, even if it’s from himself, is more than enough to give him the willpower to walk away.

You take this moment to just breathe, turning your head to face the plush bed beneath you as you gather your thoughts. Did he just show that much restraint? Enough to walk away from a female na’vi during her heat cycle… all whilst in the height of his own rut cycle?

“Lekye’ung [insane]” You mutter, using your trembling hand to grab and bring the cup to your lips. They, too, are sore and chapped. Having gone so many hours without any food or water, you knock it back, shaking the cup to get out every drop. Finished already? You think to yourself, looking inside the cup with hazed vision, confirming it’s indeed empty.

After setting it back down onto the table, you slump back into the bedhead, relaxing your body. You’re sore. Actually, sore is an understatement. Every single muscle and fiber in your body burns—and that isn’t entirely due to your heat either now that it’s finally subsiding. Perhaps you should be taking this time to have a look at your… condition, but you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

So you give in, sinking further and further into the bed as you doze off.

—

A few hours go by and Ralak returns with a net of fish thrown over his shoulder and a bucket of fresh water perched on his hip. He carefully sets down the bucket and rests the net next to the fire pit. He’s cautious not to wake you, nor come too close to you. Ralak ignites the fire and fans the flame. As quietly as possible, he prepares and cooks the fish, setting them aside to wrap in the leaves of a spartan tree.

Since coming to Awa’atltu, one of your biggest adjustments—despite the obvious—has been your change in diet. Fish weren’t uncommon back home, but they certainly weren’t the main source of food. You prefer the other foods here, your favourite being what you call ‘inland boar’, which is an animal that resembles what your father calls a ‘pig’ from his star.

But not even that, (boar) could smell better than this (fish).

The aroma alone rouses you from your sleep.

Your eyes open to a dark room and a glowing fire pit. The fire is out but the wood remains hot, shifting among different shades of orange and red. Ralak sits beside it, with his back leaning against the support beam of the pod. His arms are crossed over his chest and his knees are slightly bent. It’s hard to see more than just his silhouette with the lack of moonlight.

“That smells good.” You rasp. Ralak’s eyes fly open to reveal a familiar shade of deep blue. Like the sea. They glow and flicker before you, examining you now that you’re sitting up out of bed.

Crack.

A bolt of lightning strikes in the distance, illuminating the room. For a moment, you were able to see every single bike mark, scratch and bruise you’ve given him. It also reveals that he’s shaking. Trembling from being wet and cold, or possibly from the strain he was putting himself through from just being in the same room as you.

Ralak moves quickly, shuffling to his feet and going right for the leaf that holds a few sloppily rolled fish. He brings it to you, setting it slowly on your lap, being overly cautious not to touch you. Grabbing your cup on the table, he dunks it in the bucket and sets it beside you.

“Eat.” He whispers, backing away to sit next to the pit. You watch as he slides down the beam and into a sitting position, and then glance down at your food. Saliva pools in your mouth from the aroma wafting up your nose.

You’re hungry.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, hastily stuffing an entire roll into your mouth.

You moan as you chew, nodding your head from how good it tastes. It’s hard to swallow, given that you bit off more than you could chew—literally—but when it finally goesdown you feel your stomach grumble for more. Ralak watches you intently. A wince screwing his face with every swallow he witnesses. And when you finish, you chug down your water and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Another crack of lightning strikes, and then a low, lengthy rumble of thunder follows.

“That was… one of the best you’ve made, lak.” You say with a wobbly smile, slowly getting on your feet to wash your hands. The bucket is nearby your mate, who is still fixed in position. Although he remains unmoving, his eyes follow your every move. You shake your hands to dry them and shuffle over to Ralak and sit next to him.

“so… how do you feel?” You ask quietly, raising your hand to check if he’s feverish. He turns his head before your hand can make contact with his skin and his gaze locks onto the charred wood in the fire pit.

“Fine.” Ralak mutters.

Eyebrows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try and look him in the eye. Your brows relax when you come to the realisation that he’s already taken care of himself. And only Eywa knows how many times.

“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I would have—”

“Ma’ muntxate [my wife]”He croaks, swiftly turning his head to look directly into your eyes. “Oeru txoa livu [please forgive me].”

“Txoa? [forgive?] What for, ma’ muntxatan? [husband]”

“I have… neglected you.” He’s struggling to speak. You can hear it in the strain of his voice.

Regardless, none of his words are really making any sense to you right now. How has he been neglectful? Despite the circumstances, it’s obvious he’s been trying his hardest to be good to you. Somehow, even conjuring up the strength to pull out of you and walk away.

“Ralak. You have not. Please, I—”

“Look at yourself.” He snaps, taking a quick glance at your body before dropping his head in his hands.

Crack.

Conveniently, another strike of lightning and boom of thunder, revealing exactly what he’s talking about. For a few seconds, you’re met with the sight of your battered body—scabbed and bruised. You lift your head, staring at his shameful demeanour. But the more you stare, the more you see your own reflection.

“And have you looked at yourself?” Your words bounce as you shuffle closer to him. “I bet you can’t even feel all that damage I’ve done to you.” You coo, using your thumb to gently graze past an easy six-inch scratch mark on his bicep. “I haven’t been so gentle with you either.”

Ralak shakes his head, allowing it to sink further into his hands. “You were starved.” He mumbles into the palms of his hands.

You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin in the dip between them. Your eyes wander over to the fire pit, catching sight of the outline of a few fish rolls.

Has he really punished himself by not eating?

“Have you eaten?” You ask, resting a gentle hand on his back.

“No need.”

“You should, you know. Don’t want you starving on me, lak.” You say lightheartedly, allowing your hand to slide up his spine and to the base of his skull.

He lets loose a quiet groan, fighting the twitch of his ears. Your fingers smooth over the base of his kuru, playing with the braid encasing that covers it. “If you do that—”

“Do what?” You whisper coyly, quickly running your hand down the length of his kuru.

His spine immediately straightens, his head lifting from his hands. The tips of your fingers gently make their way to his tendrils, carefully teasing them as they try to wrap around your digits. He sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, allowing a shiver to run through him. It feels like your fingers were inside his skull, tickling his brain in the best way possible.

Reaching for your kuru with your free hand, you bring it up and over your shoulder. You lean into Ralak, your lips only inches away from his. You pull away your fingers to grip and pull his queue forth. The loss of contact has him sitting up straight, opening his eyes to look at you.

“I will not let you suffer alone.” You whisper, lessening the distance between the two of you, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly. He stills himself, even limiting his own breath so as not to make any sudden moves. “Okay?”

You wait for just a moment. For him to say something. To move away. But he remains stock-still, waiting for you to initiate this. You smile, your top teeth briefly rubbing against this lower lip, and lock your lips with his. He exhales through his nose, coming to life from your kiss and returning it full force. You take this as a good sign. A sign that you’ve broken through that wall once again, and bring your kurus together — making tsaheylu [the bond].

Both your eyes fly open, blown pupils staring into one another as your spirits unify. You both pull back, shoulders and chests heaving from your quick, unsteady breaths. You feel all that he feels – the frustration, the panic, the tension. It’s all fading, now finally nearing the end. He feels your subsiding heat, your soreness, your overpowering urge to care for him.

Before another second could pass, your lips crash into each other again—tongues intertwining as they explore one another’s mouth. Using his hand to support your upper back, he slowly lowers you onto the woven floor, parting your legs with his free hand. He situates himself between them, pressing his crotch firmly against yours. He’s warm, just like the toasty fire pit next to you.

I will try to be gentle. Ralak thinks to you, just like he’s been promising to be night after night.

I know you will. You smile, moving your kisses down his jawline as he slides his hands between your sticky pelvises.

——

It hasn’t even been two full weeks since the synchronous heat that had you and your mate locked away in your marui pod for a little over two days. Your back and thighs–and honestly everywhere else– still ache but outside of that, you feel like a brand new person. You weren’t able to confidently say that Ralak feels the same way, however.

Of course, he was adamant on limiting intimacy until you were ‘healed and recovered’. But, he had a bounce in his step. As if he were physically lighter. As if the weight of six years of pent up sexual frustration and self neglect melted off his back when you satiated the ‘insatiable’.

The constant aftercare was almost sickening. Even after most of your marks had faded he remained adamant on treating them with your own omaticayan herbs from back home. He praised them at every use, thanking your people for making such exceptional ’umtsa [medicine].

But as you entered the second week, after tons of reassurance, things dissipated and went back to normal. Ralak went back to his usual routine—fishing, hunting, responding to a few calls to Tonowari and your father. Ralak, without a doubt, made a vow to you and himself not to initiate anything until you were more than healed. But nonetheless clung to you in the nights.

He even, in fact, added a new step into your usual nighttime regimen. As usual, it began with the snuggles and tucking you under his arm just right, providing you with enough warmth to endure the cool night air. Then, he would release the perfect amount of pheromones to get you drowsy enough for bed.

But recently, he’s spent the past seven nights delaying the nightly routine until he’s had his fill of your scent. He’d lay himself down on your chest, nuzzling his face into your bosom and just breathe. You allowed it, thinking it was his own newfound way to wind down for bed.

Yet, the real reason was much different.

——

Right on the two week mark, Tsireya had roped you in with helping her with some of her Tsakrem duties. You were always happy to help her though, as it meant getting away from the marui pod for a little even if it meant being poked and prodded at.

And it certainly didn’t take long for that to happen.

Tsireya lets out a frustrated sigh and plops the medicinal pouch she’s weaving in her lap. “I can no longer ignore it, y/n. You smell different.”

You lift your head, tearing your focus from your task of weaving and look at her with a puzzled expression on your face. You bring the end of your tail to your nose and sniff, but smell… nothing. “Like what?” Her brows lower and her eyes glisten with concern. She purses her lips and unsheathes the lengthy pin from its casing and grabs your hand. “Here we go.” You mutter to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the sting.

Prick.

“Sss—ah! You need to be careful with how deep you go with that, you know. You could really—” The tsahik in training puts the wooden stick to her tongue and stares at you wide eyed, mouth agape. It’s as if she wants to speak but the words are lodged in her throat. “What? What is it?”

“You—perhaps I am wrong.” She stutters, quickly sheathing the tool back into its casing. “You should see my mother, y/n.”

“What? Why? Just tell me.” The words come out in a haste, and your voice is laced with panic. Do you have some sort of disease of the sea? Is there a cure?

“You — you are with child.” Her lips tremble as she says the words in an uncertain tone of voice.

“What?” You stare at her dumbfounded, a little caught off guard by her choice of words.

“Pregnant. You’re pregnant. But I am likely mistaken. I am only in training. Which is why I said you should see my moth—”

“Oh. No. You’re… you’re probably right, Tsireya.” You swallow the spit pooling in your cheeks, avoiding eye contact.

“H-How? I mean. I know how. But how? Surely Ralak knows not to do such a thing during your heat. He can control himself. R-Right?”

“Right. If I were the only one… in heat.” You say the last few words under your breath, fixing your shawl before picking back up your task.

“What do you mean?” Tsireya leans in with a tilted head, looking a little closer at your covered shoulder. “Did you help him with his rut?” Tsireya asks bluntly. “He’s been unmated for six years, y/n. Did you reall—”

“I am his mate. Of course I did.” You nearly snap, baffled by the tone she’s having with you.

“H-How did that even work?” Tsireya shakes her head, slowly raising her hand towards you.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You finally lift your head to shoot her a puzzled, yet offended stare. “It worked like it would for any other Na’vi.”

“Y/n…” Tsireya quickly grabs your shawl, pulling it off your shoulder to reveal a large, deep and scabbed up bite mark. It looks almost infected because of the strange omaticayan herbal concoction smeared over it. “You should have just let him ease you into it. Look at you, you’re all bruised and—”

“Tsireya.” You interject, “thank you for the concern, but—” you aggressively pull up your shawl, “I feel just fine. Besides, being in heat was the best way to ‘ease me into it’…He was as gentle as he could be.” You mutter, twiddling with the twine as you think back to the way he tried to handle you with care.

“By the looks of it, he was anything but gentle with you.” Tsireya seethes, angry that the man she grew up looking at like a brother would do something like this to you.

You wince at her words. They’re like a knife to the heart.

A long, awkward silence fills the space between you and Tsireya. She reflects on everything she’s said, realising that perhaps she was a little more harsh than needed. She softens her gaze, “I’m sorry. I should not have said that. I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“I get it. I know you’re just looking out for me. It’s alright, ‘reya.”

You exchange lighthearted smiles.

“You are definitely pregnant then. After six years, he must have really filled you—”

“Tsireya!” You laugh, giving her shoulder a light shove.

Tsireya’s grin morphs into a more serious expression. “See mother to make sure. Okay?”

Your smile also fades into something softer as you nod your head in agreement. “Okay.”

2K notes · View notes

jinnie-ret · 4 months

Text

people pleaser

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: fluff, angst

content warnings: toxic friends

word count: 3.6k

summary: in her one kid's room episode, y/n reflects on how it was hard for her not to be so kind and sweet to everyone, because she just wanted them to like her.

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The music at the start of the video played, cutting between different things the members were saying.

"Ah, she's too kind for her own good," Seungmin shook his head with a slightly sad smile.

"She hypes everyone up, she's like a mood maker of the group," Lee Know added on.

"Y/N is very selfless," Jeongin said turning his head to the others as they nodded.

"One Kid's Room, Y/N!" Y/N smiled into the camera, relaxed into the armchair with her comfy purple fleece on.

••••••

Ever since the group's trainee days, Y/N had been a people pleaser. Not that she realised that fact about herself, until it came to the future where she would reflect on herself.

She remembered when she had seen Han around the practice rooms, and it didn't matter what he did, singing, dancing or rapping... he was talented in all areas. He was even charming to her despite his shyness occasionally. She knew for sure he'd debut soon, he was an ace after all. There were also rumours going around that her good friend Chan was creating a group to join the showcase and have a chance at debuting. She wanted to be like him, so she made a lot of effort to greet him and be kind to him.

"Hi Jisung!" she would wave at him as she passed him in the corridors of JYP Entertainment.

Of course, Han being Han, would wave back without really knowing who she was at first, but he felt too awkward to ignore her. When he spoke to his hyung about a pretty girl always saying 'hello' at him, Chan was quick to tell Han about who his friend Y/N was (and also that she was off limits because he was thinking of adding her to the group but he didn't tell Han that last part).

Soon they became more comfortable around each other and Y/N found herself practising singing songs with Han, wishing she could belt notes like he could too.

"Wow, you're so good at hitting those higher notes! I wish I could do that," Y/N turned her head towards Han, from where they were both lying down on the practice room floor, feet pointed outwards to opposite walls but their heads side by side.

"Hey, you've got a great voice too, you know?" Han quickly moved his head to the side to look at her, but decided against it and stared right back up at the ceiling.

"You really think so?" Y/N's voice wavered. She needed reassurance, she knew that herself. There was still a long way to go, but she'd get to a place she wanted with her voice one day.

"I know so. Maybe one day you could be my backup singer?" Han said casually, before belly laughing when Y/N leaned over and turned to him with a pout.

"Hannnn!" she whined.

"Yah, you know I'm joking, just keep practising, you'll do great, yeah?" Han said genuinely, before standing up and hauling her up himself as they left the practice room.

•••

The next to join the group Chan was preparing for was a boy the same age as her, Jeongin. He was cute, Y/N thought, shy as well and maybe even similar to herself in some ways for wanting the approval of others, especially their future leader.

Dropping her bag in the corner of the room, first to arrive, Y/N quickly exited the practise room realising she needed the bathroom. Only to return to see Jeongin sheepishly standing in the entrance, Han looking away and Chan stood in the middle of the room with his arms folded.

"Jeongin you should have been here ten minutes ago," the Australian guy frowned running a hand through his hair. Ten minutes? Wow, Chan could be scary sometimes, and Y/N didn't regret joining the group lineup so far, but he was pretty strict.

"I-i was just..." Jeongin tried speaking up but clearly didn't have the words to explain why, practice bag in between his legs and hands clasped nervously behind his back.

"Oh that's my fault, Chan," Y/N decided to lie for him and came forward and stood next to Jeongin, resting her hand on his shoulder as they stood at the same height, "I was showing Jeongin this video at the dorms and I insisted he watch it before we leave..." she even looked off to the side awkwardly, and that part was genuine because the moment Chan let out a huff through his nose, she felt intimidated.

"Guys.... ugh, just, get ready for practice, yeah?" Chan sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose as the two youngest rushes to one side of the room.

"Why did you do that?" Jeongin whispered, pulling out his bottle of water.

"Because I want to know why you were really late," Y/N joked and nudges his shoulder, making him laugh.

"Guys, stop messing around!" Chan rolled his eyes. Y/N wasn't so sly, he saw her bag that had already been there, and knew she hadn't arrived at the same time as Jeongin, but he allowed the excuse nonetheless.

•••

Walking back into the dorms after a busy shift at work, with school the next day, hearing a loud argument was not ideal at all for Y/N. And of course, it had to be between Han and Hyunjin. The taller boy had recently been recruited by Chan after his exceptional dance skills and potential. Perhaps Han was jealous? Y/N didn't really know, all she wanted was her bed right now but she hated the confrontation she heard.

"You can't just leave your things around everywhere! You're so messy!" Hyunjin yelled at Han.

Y/N peeked her head round the hallway after taking off her coat and shoes to see them yelling at each other in the lounge. Chan and Jeongin were nowhere to be seen - they must be out somewhere.

"I was here first! You think I care about your complaints? Get over yourself!" Han shouted, fists clenched at his sides.

"Oh so it's not ok for me to complain, but you get to act like a spoilt brat and like you're better than everyone else?!" Hyunjin yelled once more.

"Guys, what are you doing?" Y/N yawned, staring at the shouting boys who immediately flipped round to their dongsaeng.

"Oh, hey Y/N," Hyunjin's eyes softened, and so did his tone as he saw her standing there tiredly.

"What are you doing up so late?" Han questioned, glancing across at her.

"She works, remember? Gosh, you don't care about anyone but yourself and-" Hyunjin shouted before Y/N quietly cut him off with her calming demeanour.

"Stop. Just stop. You ask me why I'm up late but you two are up awake and arguing... If we're gonna be a team we can't go on like this. And that's not fair to Chan," Y/N shook her head sighing. She couldn't even look at the boys, but from the resounding silence there was she hoped her words had gotten through to them.

"I guess you're right," Hyunjin nodded, shifting awkwardly on one leg.

They all looked at Y/N as if seeing her in a whole new way, she seemed more mature than ever in that moment.

"We all have early starts tomorrow, don't we?" Y/N checked with them, chewing on her lip.

"You're right we do," Han sighed and nodded.

"Right, let's sleep then," Y/N nodded and rushed off to her room, not wanting to be in that situation again. She liked offering her advice, yes, but being the voice of reason? That felt like another level of having responsibility.

"Let's not fight again," Hyunjin whispered, tired himself, physically and emotionally.

All Han could do was roll his eyes and nod as they retreated to their rooms.

It may not have been the last time they fought, but they both put in more effort to control their emotions.

•••

3RACHA was completed. Changbin joined Han and Chan in making music and releasing in onto SoundCloud together, and despite his darker aura, the boy was one of the most caring guys she had ever met.

He would check up on her often, noticing her floating away into her own little world. It happened again one day, when Y/N was sat in the studio with the three guys, until Chan and Han went to collect lunch.

"You good, Y/Nnie?" Changbin asked, breaking the comfortable silence that was in the room.

"Hmm, yeah, why?" Y/N wiped sleep out of her eyes as she saw him staring back at her.

"It's ok, you know, to be upset, or tired," Changbin gently spoke, sensing from the start that she was a sensitive, soft soul.

"I'm not upset... I just need to improve, that's all..." Y/N sighed, curling up into a tighter ball on the sofa, tugging a blanket over her legs.

"I saw your face after the staff spoke to you," Changbin informed her, helping to straighten out the blanket.

"They just said that I shouldn't expect to be a part of the group if I'm dancing and singing the way I do and that even a rat would have done a better job," Y/N shrugged, not able to look at Changbin.

"They what? They can't say rude shit like that to you!" Changbin stood up, arms folded.

"I-it was just constructive criticism," Y/N jumped slightly, not expecting the strong reaction from her fellow group member.

"No, they were rude to you, there's a difference between constructive criticism and being rude. How is what they said helpful in any way?!" Changbin growled, shaking his head with a clenched jaw.

"I just caught them in a bad mood-" Y/N shared the thought that was playing over and over again in her head, eyes shining as she looked up at Changbin.

"No, you didn't, ok? It's alright," Changbin side hugged her to him, joining her back on the sofa, "it's ok to feel sad from what they said, I just want you to talk to me about it, I'm here. Now, come on, Chan and Han will be back with food soon."

•••

Next to join the group was a charming freckled boy, also from Australia. He had quickly grown close with Chan from their shared nationality, but Y/N craved to be close with him too. She wanted him to like her, after all, she got on well with her other members, so she found herself worrying when she hadn't really had a chance to bond with him yet.

He was a cute and loveable guy, and with the language barrier, Felix not really knowing a lot of Korean yet, Y/N felt disheartened when her words would be met with a blank look from him. She just hadn't connected the dots yet, not realising it was because her quick ramblings in Korean were an overwhelming whirlwind of incomprehensible words.

"Hi Felix! I'm so glad you joined the group, you've got such a cool voice I think it will really make us stand out!" Y/N gushed to Felix after they all did a vocal practice together.

"Thank you," Felix awkwardly answered before looking away at the ground, smiling bigger only when Chan stood next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

That was when Y/N decided she needed to find a better way to communicate with Felix, so she started writing notes, using an online translator to write an English translation below her Korean words, to tell him words of encouragement and show him she was there as a friend.

•••

"Thanks Y/N! See you soon, maybe," Y/N's trainee friends giggled as they left the lobby of JYP, Y/N waving goodbye to them as she zipped her purse back up.

"What was that about?" Seungmin spoke up, leant against the wall opposite her.

"Oh, umm, my friends asked if they could borrow some of my money to get some snacks," Y/N grinned, feeling happy she was able to help her friends.

"You didn't have to do that... give them your money so easily," Seungmin shook his head, walking over and standing closer to her now.

Seungmin was recognised for his polite nature and gorgeous voice, hence his joining of the group.

"It's ok, really, they needed it and plus they said they'd pay me back," Y/N defended her friends, lips pursing when she saw Seungmin frown.

"Whenever I see those friends of yours they ask for money," Seungmin was trying really hard for Y/N to see sense.

"It's fine I have a part time job for a reason," Y/N smiled, trying to brush away Seungmin's concerned but it only made it worse.

"Yeah, not to fund their snacks," his eyes only widened in response.

"They need it," Y/N's voice became higher pitched, as she was desperate for Seungmin to believe her and just leave alone the subject. She didn't want to be in any sort of argument with him but he also didn't want him to be thinking badly of her friends.

"So do you, please be careful around them," Seungmin sighed and patted her shoulder, seeing she wanted to leave the subject alone, as they both left the company.

Later that night at the dorms, Y/N and Seungmin were relaxing on the sofa, with the other members too, as they scrolled through their phones. Looking at her social media, Y/N tapped on her friend's story, only to see they were all hanging out without her, and seemed to be eating at a slightly more expensive fast food restaurant. But they didn't even have enough money for a snack earlier?!

It seemed Y/N had spoke this last thought out loud. Seungmin peered over her shoulder and frowned, recognising the people in the photos as his younger member's friends.

Stopping himself from telling her 'I told you so', Seungmin offered his comfort.

"You've got us, yeah? Don't worry about them anymore," Seungmin swiped off of the story and took her phone out of her hands.

"I don't know what i did wrong..." Y/N bit her lip, wondering how she always went wrong with her friends.

"You did nothing wrong, they took advantage of your kindness, Y/N, now let me order some fried chicken for us, yeah?"

•••

The final member Chan added to the lineup was a guy called Minho, who, very impressively, had completed the basic JYP dance moves in 2 weeks. Y/N was in awe of him.

"I can't believe you completed the moves already! I bet Chan will make you dance leader when we all get to debut together!" Y/N smiled at Lee Know, singing his praises.

"Aha, thank you," Lee Know awkwardly bowed at her, not really saying much after. Y/N just wanted to compliment him and show her appreciation, but seeing his short responses made her feel awkward too, and soon they'd be left in silence.

Y/N found herself sat there thinking, she spent so long trying to get everyone to like her, but maybe what she said, what she did, wasn't good enough?

"Is this too much for you?" Chan sat down next to Y/N, who had isolated herself to sit in the corner of the practice room.

"No it's fine," Y/N waved her hand away, running a hand through her hair.

"Tell me the truth," Chan insisted, shifting his body to look at her, feeling concerned.

"I am, I'm fine," Y/N bluntly said, not wanting to talk about how she truly was feeling, and the thoughts she was having.

"Don't lie to me, I need to know you can do this, I don't want you stressing out, we've got the showcase ahead of us, Y/N," Chan urged her to tell the truth, resting a hand on her knee, patting it gently.

"Look, ok, it is a lot to deal with but I can do it, I promise you. I just, I'm trying to figure everything in my head," Y/N leant her head back against the wall, closing her eyes.

"Thank you for telling me the truth, and, Y/N, that's why we're here, we don't want you feeling like you're on your own when you do so much for all of us, ok?" Chan side hugged her, warmth in his eyes, and some relief there when he finally broke through to her.

"I am? I mean, I do a lot for you guys?" Y/N's voice pleaded for the truth, looking at Chan with hope in her eyes.

"You always do," he smiled and ruffled her hair.

••••••

Back to One Kids Room, Y/N smiled as she thought about how she had come as a person.

"As much as I still look up to my members, my self-esteem has grown so much and I've learnt to value myself. I love them so much, but I need to give myself energy and time too," Y/N smiled at the camera, hands squeezing the long arms of her sleeves and balling them up.

"She's so much more confident now, I remember she used to ask me if this was fine or that but now she's more confident," Changbin commented, the other guys nodding in agreement.

"She used to come to me being like, woahhhhh you're such a good dancer!" Lee Know chucked, thinking of the younger version of Y/N, who would always praise her members.

"Ah yes she'd speak exactly like that! Wow... And she'd look at me like, with these wide eyes being like, I wanna rap like you!" Han laughed as he perfectly imitated how Y/N spoke to him.

"She used to have this really sweet habit, when I didn't know Korean very well, umm, she'd leave these little notes for me, and write the Korean and English translation for me just so I knew what she was saying. There'd always be these words of encouragement, it just made my heart feel warm," Felix told the members, who all 'ooh'ed in response, shocked at this fact because they didn't know that Y/N used to do that.

"Ah, yes, I did used to leave notes for Felix... I wanted to be his friend so badly! He just seemed so cool but whenever I spoke to him he just sort of awkwardly smiled and nodded. I thought he didn't like me, turns out he had no idea what I was saying, so I left notes for him instead... yeah," Y/N felt shy when she admitted this, covering her face.

"I remember back in trainee days, I was late for practice because I overslept. And then when I arrived I thought Channie hyung is really going to scold me but Y/N suddenly appeared, I think she came back from the bathroom or something but she said it was her fault that we were both late, and I thought phew, hyung won't be angry at me now, haha," Jeongin told his own story, remembering Y/N covering for him, and that wasn't the only time she had done that.

"I remember that! I knew she was covering up for you!" Chan gasped, pointing an accusing finger at Jeongin who laughed in response.

"She's so sweet and kind, whenever any of us would argue she'd try and stop it from happening," Hyunjin shook his head in wonder at how selfless Y/N was.

"Oh yeah! She'd try and get us to see from each perspective, even though I felt like I was right I thought wow I can't argue because now Y/N would be sad too if we carried on," Han covered his mouth slightly as he laughed, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder knowing that the argument he was referring to was definitely between the two of them.

"Right! Right! She's really good at seeing other people's feelings, but she used to struggle when it came to herself... She'd look so confused if I said to her that she was acting sad, she looked like a lost puppy..." Changbin said in a more serious tone.

"Oh when she had those puppy eyes! Yeah!" Chan nodded along enthusiastically, knowing the look all too well.

"It made my heart ache, she didn't understand, she's much better now though, I'll get a knock at my door and we'll talk for hours," Changbin confessed, feeling happy he was needed in helping his member feel better.

"Ah yes I talk to Binnie a lot about my feelings these days... I still find it confusing to understand how I feel but it makes a bit more sense when I talk with him, yeah..." Y/N began, still a bit shy in admitting when she needed help but better than she would have been before, "I don't think I look like a puppy? Seungmin is more like a puppy, haha."

"Remember Y/N used to have that part time job?" Seungmin asked the rest of the guys.

"Really?" Felix was shocked, not realising everything Y/N had to balance.

"Yeah she used to work at a cafe whilst training and school, I really admired that," Hyunjin grinned, proud of the younger girl.

"But she'd still have to ask us for money," Chan laughed.

"She'd spend it on her old friends! She wanted to make sure they were ok and then suddenly she wouldn't have any money left!" Seungmin said in disbelief, his voice cutely rising up and down in pitch showing how he was feeling.

"Oh, that makes sense I remember one time we got some boba, and she asked me like oppa, can you get me that please? And I asked her where her money went and she said she spent it on a present for Innie... I think it was near his birthday at the time," Lee Know commented, leaning back against the sofa.

"Woahh, my heart," Hyunjin gasped, placing a hand over his chest, "that's so cute!"

"Ah I love giving gifts! I feel like if I can find someone the perfect gift and they are happy then I'm really happy too," Y/N explained after a staff member asked her the question.

"I think I'm definitely different from debut days... If I could say anything about myself now... It would be... You have grown. Y/N has changed, but in a good way!"

"One Kid's Room, Y/N, finished!"

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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari

#skz #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #straykids ninth member #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #ninth member #stray kids ninth member #skz 9th member reader #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member

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