#because you will never see me without earphones/headphones

[oikawas-toris]

3 Racha needs to release more shit man. Their whole discography on yt is just bop after bop and they have a song called "domestic banana" for god's sake 😭 And to add to that they were bachhus back then..!! Heck even if they don't release something new soon atleast officially release whatever is already on yt becAUSE HAVE YOU HEARD "은석이" YOU CAN HEAR THEM SPIRALLING FURTHER INTO INSANITY WITH EVERY STANZA and the message behind it too like damn. And don't even get me started on the unofficial solo songs like scissors by Han because when does that man even breathe.

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #i just cant get enough of these silly lil talentedass guys #yt isn't enough i need it all on Spotify so my queue is forever and ever filled. #3 racha #3racha #tris talks #skz #if skz release all their unofficial stuff on Spotify i can bet you you'll never see my ears ever again #because you will never see me without earphones/headphones

[miraclewoozi]

DON'T SWEAT IT. - l.jh

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

Variety.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s when he sees you again. 

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?” he questions. 

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

“Oh. Right.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guessed you could,” you say. 

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

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

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

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

“Mm. You can tell.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long is too long?” you ask.

“All my life,” he tells you.

“No way?”

“Mm.” A beat. “What about you?”

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n,” you introduce yourself. 

“See you around, y/n.”

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He can hazard a guess at your predicament. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How… have you been?” you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except the obvious. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, really. Um… next one’s on me?” 

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

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

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

“Yeah. Yeah — I’ll see you, y/n.”

—————

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

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

He absolutely won’t confess to being smitten. 

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

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

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

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

jihoon: fine. you’re right. 

seokmin: ?

soonyoung: probs true, does need context

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

soonyoung: OH

seokmin: Hahahahahaha

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

soonyoung: fr even chan and hansol know atp lmao 

jihoon: they what?

jihoon: how do they know?

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

soonyoung: because we told them????? 

seokmin: So, we might have told everyone

jihoon: blocking both of your numbers immediately.

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

seokmin: When do we get to meet her?

jihoon: blocked.

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

At least he’s admitted it now. 

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

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

—————

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

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

All this before he even gets to work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” he says. “Um — thank you?”

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

Slim, he decides. But not zero. 

There’s hope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You go ahead — I’ve just finished.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How the fuck is he supposed to walk away?

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

——————

That Friday, you finally text him again.

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

y/n: hey :)

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

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

jh: well…

jh: what are you trying to put together?

y/n: a bed :(

y/n: today’s your rest day, right?

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

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

jh: apparently yes, you can.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Any. Fucking. Minute. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leans forward and kisses you, instead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm, says you.” 

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

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

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

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

So, you do.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I want to.”

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

——————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not important enough,” he sighs. 

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

Seungcheol.

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

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

“Take all the time you need.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#woozi smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #lee jihoon smut #woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #??? how do i tag anything lmao #running away now it's nearly 2am lmao BYE #j writes. #*

[carboysandbikemen]

Fernando being your dad’s best friend or something and someday he can’t help but give in to your teasing even though there’s a bit of an age gap and it feels wrong… but he finally decides to fuck you, calling you his good girl🫣 Very unhinged I’m so sorry x

Never apologise, this is the unhinged content I crave!!! -🐝

Also TY for all of the recent Fernando asks!! Glad to see people are just as unhinged about that insane little man as us. Will be writing more Nando content in due course!

Good Luck Charm

Warnings and tags: 18+ obvs, age gap, daddy kink, praise, unprotected sex, Fernando was made to eat pussy fight me, disclaimer I don't speak Spanish and had to use google 😬

Word count: 3,142

The security guard checks your pass, looking you up and down slightly but pasting on a smile and waving you through. To be fair to him you do have an unprecedented level of access for someone who is rocking up to the paddock alone.

Going along to GP's isn't exactly new to you, after all you've been coming to them ever since you were little, and more recently with your dad to support his friend Fernando.

Weaving through the paddock to find Fernando feels like second nature, only having to ask two of the Alpine crew you vaguely recognise where he is before finding him.

Honestly? You've been shamelessly flirting with him whenever your dad wasn't in earshot for a couple of years now. Partly because well, it's Fernando, he's ridiculously hot, but also because it's become almost a game of how far can you push him before he snaps. This time though, this time you're determined to cross that line. It's all or nothing.

"Hi." You announce yourself, peaking from behind the door where Fernando is sat with one headphone in his ear, the other dangling at his chest.

When he looks up at you, the frown on his face quickly turns into a smile and he pulls the other earphone out, standing to greet you.

You meet him halfway, pushing yourself into his open arms to hug him, pressing your body against his as you go up onto your tip toes just so you can fall back down again, sliding yourself against his toned chest.

When you pull apart he raises his eyebrow at you questioningly, but you brush it off, smiling with faux innocence.

He looks over your shoulder, as if checking that it's just you before asking, "Your father?"

"Oh he couldn't make it, I thought he told you it was just me this weekend?"

You're pretty sure you told your dad to tell him that you and a few of your friends were planning to go. All part of the plan to tease Fernando a bit more without anyone to interrupt you.

"Ahhh yes, I remember, you are meant to be bringing friends no?"

"Oops, I forgot to ask them." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him cheekily.

He gives you a knowing look and you raise your eyebrows as a challenge. Instead of chastising you, or falling for the bait he shakes his head.

"No matter. I'm sure you will make friends." He smiles at you like he's in on the game and he's here to play. "I could introduce you to Esteban again."

You can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the thought and Fernando laughs at you, deep and open and you want to grab his stupid face and run your hands through his hair but you pull yourself back to the present.

"Are you ready for quali?" You walk around his room, feeling his eyes on you without looking at him, touching his desk, running your fingers over it before picking up his Kimoa cap.

"Always."

He's waiting for you to make the first move, he's almost daring you to, stood there with his arms crossed.

"Hmm. Maybe you need a good luck charm?"

You put the cap on your head.

"And what do you have in mind hmm?"

"I can think of a few things." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him, trying to get across an innocent suggestiveness that you think might just be working, as he steps closer to you.

"Why did you come here alone?"

"I think you know why." You lean in closer to him.

He doesn't move.

"Cariño, you are making this difficult." He's almost gritting his teeth.

"It doesn't have to be."

"Dios me ayude," Fernando sighs under his breath, and you don't know what he's saying but you can guess you're about to finally FINALLY get what you want. "You know we can't."

He doesn't sound sure though. He doesn't sound sure at all, so you close the space between you.

"Fernando." You breathe out. He slips his hand up to your face and you think he's going to touch you but he just grabs his cap back, flinging it across to the desk again.

You huff out a frustrated noise and he smirks down at you.

"Yes?"

"Please." You're so close you can smell his aftershave and you decide that it doesn't matter anymore, this game, all you need is for him to fuck you. Desperately.

"Please what, little one?"

He slips his hand under your chin, tilting your head up so you're forced to look into his eyes. With his thumb, he traces your bottom lip.

"Tell me what you want." He prompts again.

"Please fuck me." You whisper, and he smirks down at you, slipping his thumb inside your warm wet mouth.

Obliging, you wrap your lips around it, rolling your tongue over the pad. He lets you do this a few times, before drawing his thumb back, pulling at your lower lip. He looks at you for a second, before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to yours.

You practically sigh into the kiss, feeling him move one of his hands up to the back of your head and the other down to grip at your waist, pulling you into him.

Gently, he bites at your lip, slipping his tongue over the cusp of your lip before drawing back. You try to follow him but he moves his other hand down to grip the other side of your waist.

"We should stop this."

"No!" You practically shout, pressing yourself against him, watching as his face lights up with a grin and his grip tighten. You should have known that as soon as you got him to give in, then the game would be flipped. He has you right where he wants you. Although, it very much still feels like you're winning.

"This worked up already? Cariño, look at you, just a kiss and my hands on you and you're already desperate. Maybe you cannot take it." He sighs dramatically, thumbing his hand under your shirt and running his fingers along the bare skin of your hips.

"No I can, I can take it." You assure him. Then, to prove your point, you quickly throw off your top and bra, leaving you standing topless in front of him, his hands still toying with the skin above the waistband of your trousers.

He huffs out a small laugh at your antics, which you only find mildly insulting, and runs his hands over your stomach and up your chest, thumbing your nipples briefly making you squirm.

"What did I say hmm? Desperate." He brushes them again and you let out a small gasp. "Look at you."

"Please. Just... fuck me." You say again.

"Patience." He pinches one of your nipples and you have to squeeze your thighs together. "Go lock the door. Take your trousers off, and come sit." He gestures to the sofa and you feel the heat rising on your face as you comply, quickly locking the door and shuffling out of your trousers.

As you go to take off your underwear he stops you.

"Leave them on."

He guides you until you're sitting down on the sofa, legs spread as he kneels in front of you. Slowly, he runs his hands up you thighs, the touch light and teasing until he reaches the seam of your underwear.

"Did you tease me on purpose?"

"What?" You're struggling to think about anything except his hands on you, so so close to where you want.

"Every time you visited, or I came over and you bent over in front of me or touched my arm or said suggestive things. Was it all on purpose?"

"Yeah." You breathe out, and he grips your inner thigh a little harder. "It was."

"Okay." It's said so flippantly but you can’t help but think that something’s coming, some sort of reprimand or punishment for your behaviour but right now all you want is his fingers on you.

"Okay, I want you to come at least twice before I'll think about fucking you. You can be a good girl, no? I think thats fair."

He moves in before you have a chance to reply and nips at the skin of your thigh with his teeth making you gasp. He makes his way up the inside of your thigh, his beard scratching against your sensitive skin and you can't help but squirm, pushing your hips up to try and get more contact. In response, he just presses his hands down on your hips, steadying you.

When he gets between your legs he stops.

"Fernando." You whine at him. "Come onnnn."

He huffs out a laugh at your antics, moving his hand down to brush lightly over the fabric of your underwear, causing your whine to become a gasp.

Pressing a little harder, he watches as the fabric dampens underneath his touch, smiling as you moan for him. Still holding you down with one hand, he starts to play with you, running his fingers over the dampening fabric, dragging it against your clit as he presses down.

"Look at how wet you are for me. Such a good girl." He pushes the fabric into you slightly, the rough feeling making you moan this time, a choked needy little noise.

"Can I..." You start but you get cut off by a circle of your clit.

"Hmm?" He says innocently, as if he isn't playing with your covered pussy like you're a little toy to amuse him.

"Can I take them off?"

"No."

He continues as you huff out a frustrated whine, needing his fingers inside you desperately.

"They're staying on until you come in them. I want to see you ruin them."

With that he doubles down, leaning in to mouth at your pussy over the fabric, the warmth and drag of the fabric nearly making you scream out. You can feel it building up, your legs tensing slightly as he holds you there so he can have his fun.

"Please..." You ask, desperately needing just a bit more pressure.

"Please what?"

"Please daddy." You respond. It slips out of you with ease, seeming almost natural and it takes you a second to notice he's raised his eyebrows at you, clearly not expecting that from you.

You feel your face flush and start to turn red as you mumble out a 'sorry'.

"No, I like it." Is all that Fernando says, gaze darkening. "Be a good girl and come for me then."

With that he sucks at your clit over the fabric and presses them into you a little as you finally feel yourself come, wrapping your legs around his head as he rides it out with you.

"Thats my good girl." He grins at you. "Ruining your pretty underwear for me."

He peels them off and you lift your hips for him so he can pull them down.

He looks at them thoughtfully, then up at your mouth, before shaking his head and throwing them aside, almost as if he was contemplating gagging you with them.

The thought makes you almost ready to go again.

"Look at you spread out and dripping for me."

He spreads your legs with his hands and runs his thumb over your dripping pussy, but avoiding your oversensitive clit.

"I need you to fuck me." You huff out.

"Ahh but you have to come again before that, no? Or did you forget."

You groan at his smirking face, throwing your head back. It doesn't last long though, as Fernando slips two fingers straight inside of you, hooking them upwards as you clench around him and let out a high pitched little noise at the feeling.

Without warning he puts his mouth directly on your clit, rolling his tongue over it as he keeps his fingers still, feeling you tighten around him as you moan and whine.

You can't help but thread your hands through his hair, pulling on him tightly as you press his head into you.

It's almost too much, you're too sensitive.

"The noises you make." He says in wonder, pulling away to look up at you. "I bet boys your age don't know what to do with you, no? You need me to fuck you properly?"

You can feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He's right, no one has ever been like this. Sure, you've had sex before but no one has ever played with you like this, with such focus and skill to make you come so fast. No one has ever made you come multiple times.

His fingers are still in you, slowly fucking in and out of you now, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like when he finally fucks you properly.

"Ye... yes." You manage to choke out, losing your grip on the ability to talk, your mind solely focused on the drag of his fingers in you and the pressure of his thumb against your clit.

"You're dripping onto the sofa Cariño, look at the mess you make." He punctuates it with a particularly fast thrust of his fingers, making you tighten and whine at him.

He speeds up, watching his fingers disappear into your wet little pussy for a moment before nipping at your thigh slightly and then running his tongue over you, up around his fingers and pressing against your clit.

You thrust your hips up and he lets you move against him, his fingers fucking into you fast and hard as you grind yourself against his face. You don't give him any warning this time, the feeling building suddenly. You tighten your thighs around him as well as the grip in his hair as you come again around his fingers.

"Fuck." You sigh as you come down, his fingers still toying with you gently before pulling out and wiping your own wetness on your thigh, the sight making you scrunch up your nose.

"So good for me." Fernando mumbles and you feel yourself blush at his words. "Do you think you can take me now?"

"Yeah, I can daddy."

"Good girl."

Before you can even begin to recover, Fernando has stripped out of his clothes and moves you until you're straddling him, his hard cock resting between you.

You get the idea, raising yourself up so you’re positioned over him and he pulls you in for a kiss as he guides his cock along the wetness of your pussy.

Slowly, you lower yourself down, feeling him stretch you out as you gasp into his mouth. He lets you take your time, biting at your lower lip as he also groans at the feeling of your hot wet cunt.

Grabbing your hips, he experimentally pushes you down a little and you whine, looking him in the eyes as he raises his eyebrow at you in a silent question.

You think you know exactly what he's asking so you nod your permission. He smiles, but more gently this time, grabbing your hips tighter and pushing you down faster than you'd been moving.

It feels so full when you finally take all of him inside of you, letting yourself adjust to the sensation as you sigh into his neck, running your teeth gently over the skin and mouthing gentle bites.

He palms at your ass, moving you in small rocking motions against him until you feel like you can move again, slowly picking up speed until you're practically bouncing on his cock, watching him close his eyes and groan at the feeling.

It gives you a little more confidence as you speed up, placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself.

One of his hands moves to thumb at your clit and you momentarily stutter in your pace, clenching around him as he tightens his grip on your hip in response.

It's almost too much, you're too sensitive from before and the feeling of him filling you up is like nothing you've ever experienced. You can feel your legs starting to shake and will yourself not to stop.

Fernando must notice though, as without any warning he picks you up, cock still buried deep inside of you, and lays you flat on the sofa, moving your legs so that they're resting on his shoulders, practically bending you in half for him.

"You're so tight mi amor."

You can’t even form the words to reply, too focused on the feeling of him fucking into you, controlling the pace as he slips a hand down to brush over your nipples, pinching them slightly before moving down to play with your clit.

It's so overwhelming that you can’t help the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Fernando is saying something, maybe in Spanish, maybe he's calling you his good girl again, you're not quite sure, all you know is that every time he circles your clit and thrusts into you you're dangerously close to losing it again.

You don't want it to end yet, it's Fernando, you've wanted this for ages and now you finally have it and you don't want to give him up.

It's no use though, he thrusts into you a little deeper and thumbs at you a little harder and you're gone, crying out his name as you come around his cock. The way you clench down around him sets him off as well, and before you know it you can feel him coming inside of you, filling up your pussy so much that when he pulls out you can feel it start to drip out of you.

He gently sits back down laying your legs out gently over him as he rests a hand on your inner thigh and runs his fingers over you gently.

"You were so good for me y/n. Look at you laid there, perfect for me." He slips his hand between your legs and gently gathers some of the come dripping out of you and fucks it into you a little bit making you squirm.

"Fernando." You breath out. "I cannot come again. I just can't."

He huffs out a laugh.

"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, fucking his fingers in again, just the tip but enough to make you gasp. "I just cant help it. You look so pretty filled up for me."

"I can't believe we just did that." You say it mostly to yourself, but Fernando laughs again, this time a little more incredulously.

"If I get pole after this, if you're my good luck charm, we might have to do it every weekend."

You know it’s a joke but still, you can't help but fantasise about being his little good luck charm all the way up to a third world championship.

#fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso imagine #alonso smut #alonso imagine #f1 imagine #f1 smut #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #x reader

[kurorama]

ATWOW characters in Highschool + music taste HEADCANONS

(neteyam, ao’nung, tsireya, lo’ak, kiri, tuk, rotxo)

[ Modern!au, Tuk is still in elementary school lmao ]

Neteyam

Mr.popular guy at school.

Goes to bother Kiri and embarrass her in front of her friend-group everytime at lunch.

Does after school activities nearly every single day.

My boy is so academically smart.

He doesn’t need tuition, tuition needs him.

Ao’nung defo copies on his homework everyday before class.

He’s the typa guy that prioritizes school before hoes so Neytiri is so shocked (and happy) when he finally brings a girl back home.

All of the teachers love him because he can calm the class down easily.

Not in an annoying teacher’s pet way, in a way that he’s literally homies with everyone so they stfu when he tells them to atp.

He definitely listens to afrobeats you can’t tell me otherwise.

He lives for and PRAISES rema.

His favorite songs are Woman by rema, Last Last by burna boy and No Sleeping by 1da Banton.

He also often listens to old school rap like MF DOOM.

Ao’nung

He’s a player fosho.

Like not the typa player to cheat on his partner but the single typa mf that fucks with many people at a time😭.

He’s definitely into sports like basketball. I think we can all agree w that.

Typa guy to wear a basket ball uni with gold plated chains.

He teases the ‘nerds’ in every single class that he has.

Is a menace like usual.

He smells so strongly of cologne.

Typa guy that would walk around with his varsity jacket if not for him being in his basketball outfit everytime.

Type of guy that has a ‘top 3 most attractive teachers’ list w his friends.

Ao’nung listens to rap theres no other.

Not like playboi carti kinda rap no, bro listens to Lil mosey, YNW melly, blueface and dababy (unironically)

Tsireya

She has GROUPS of girls talking behind her back.

They’re all jealous cuz our girl’s perfect fr.

Has one real friend group and sticks with them.

Nobody has the heart to tell her that girls shit talks her while she’s so nice to them.

Has a stash of pads in her locker incase anyone asks for them cuz she’s a real one‼️🤞🏽.

Walks back home with Lo’ak every single day.

She smells like plumeria 24/7.

She defo listens to pop like pinkpantheress and olivia rodrigo. SZA and doja cat girly.

Lo’ak

He throws wet toilet paper balls at the bathroom walls.

Gets called weekly at the principal’s office and wonders why.

Jake and Neytiri are fed UP.

Walks around with a pair of headphones in the morning because ain’t nobody talking to him while he’s half asleep.

One of his ex friends tried doing that and they ended up w a sore cheek fr. keyword: Ex friend.

Does his homework during lunch and always gets caught by his teachers.

He gives gym rat energy but not the annoying ones (are there even those?)

He’s some teacher’s favorite just like his brother, just cuz he’s the class clown.

Bet y’all the english teacher always laughs a little too suspiciously at his dumb jokes.

As the troublemaker kid, outcast and DEFINITELY his father’s least favorite, it only makes sense that he listens to rock.

Like heavy metal and NU metal.

His favorite band is Aerosmith I can see it.

And his favorite songs are walk this way by Aerosmith and born to raise hell by motörhead (ironic enough).

Defo listens to domination by pantera

He listens to Kendrick lamar and The Weeknd at times too.

Kiri

She’s a vanilla girly.

Like vanilla ice cream, vanilla deodorant, vanilla perfume, vanilla EVERYTHING.

She defo has crystals that she brings with her everywhere she goes.

Once she beat up Lo’ak for touching her crystals but my man was just trina manifest good grades fr.

She never finishes her lunch and Neytiri considers even still giving her food atp.

Cannot live without music.

Her earphones are always dangling out of her pocket because she’s always removing and putting them back in there.

No denying that she listens to Taylor swift.

Girl is a swiftie for LIFE. Other than that she defo listens to those indie bands like surf curse and TV girl.

Her favorite songs are disco by surf curse and Lavender haze by taylor swift.

Tuk

She has the newest generation iPad because papa jake’s income is paying good.

Well she isn’t allowed to bring it to school but she doesn’t anyways.

One day she got caught cuz she was playing some barbie makeover game in class.

Flexes her new glittery bag because she can.

She shares her food with her friends that have none because Neytiri taught her good.

She’s defo the typa kid that goes to school with freshly braided hair and comes back with them baby hairs sticking out and somehow one braid just completely undone.

She doesn’t get bullied or anything she just can’t stay in place at all.

she listens to those cringe TikTok songs i’m so sorry.

She’s still in that era 💔

Rotxo

I just know he’s on the verge of crying every morning trying to do his hair.

He’s so cute like wtf.

He struggles to get a girlfriend lmao so he’s always third wheeling everything.

He’s adorable though like, how???

No cuz like this mf STILL does those weird troom troom food hacks TO THIS DAY.

Like the thing where you put fondant in an empty glue stick roll just because.

Let his inner child have fun ok.

He’s a mixed music taste listener.But he mostly listens to rap.

Got influenced by Ao’nung.

-

I got way too lazy to finish or correct this.

#neteyam x reader #atwow #avatar #neteyam sully #avatar 2 #ao’nung x reader #lo’ak x reader #aonung x reader #kiri x reader #rotxo x reader #tuk x reader #tsireya x reader #atwow headcanons #avatar headcanons

[fallenforanescape24]

Chapter 1: MUSIC (Part 1)

"Never take a person away from the music they love."

-Matthew Healy (The 1975)

Song Choice: Goes here there isn't one for this post but been blasting The 1975 music as I write this post

I have always been a person who uses music as an escape ever since I was 13 years old. I've gotten through many musical phases throughout the years. I've gone from Broadway Musicals to Pop Punk to Classical etc. etc. Music to me has always been an escape from the problems life has thrown at me...no matter how hard they were or currently are. The only genre I stay clear of is Screamo or anything Heavy Metal and that is just my preference tbh.

Now if we are talking bands, my two favorites of all time are: All Time Low and The 1975. I discovered All Time Low back in the summer of 2013 and more recently it's been the 1975. I've heard that you'll discover music when you need it the most. I want to be able to make dedication posts to both bands which is why is just part one of three.

Music to me is the longest relationship I have ever had in my life and has not failed me or hurt me it's understood me and has been by me when I was all alone. I could be surrounded by people and still feel like there is no one there I can rely on. I do my best to keep to myself because I don't like hurting people or causing trouble so I hide in the pages of books and throw my headphones on and escape. Music speaks to me when no one can (people are busy with their own lives I understand that). Music is how I express how I'm feeling when I don't know how to say the words out loud. Music has been there during the hardest of times and kept me sane. I have people I care about and I know they care about me too but sometimes I don't want to feel like a burden to them by ranting about my issues all the time. I'm just taking it one day at a time nowadays because that's all I can do without going crazy but you'll never see me without a pair of earphones.

In a post later from now (not the next one lol), I'll explain about the two bands who have helped me through my teen years and now adult years...

-❤︎R

#the 1975 #all time low #daughtry #three days grace #nickleback #we the kings #mayday parade #the fray #pink floyd #i prevail #skillet #cigarettes after sex #nf real music #john mayer #shawn mendes #music journalism #journaling #music saved my life #journal entry

[blue-slxt]

🩵 for the get to know me q+a 🩵

11) Do you want children?

13) Baths or showers?

16) What do you typically have for breakfast?

18) Favorite swear word?

19) What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

22) What is your favorite accent?

24) Are you scared of spiders?

29) Are you a gossip?

33) What makes you nervous?

34) Are you scared of the dark?

37) Have you ever done drugs?

38) Who was your first real crush?

43) What makes you angry?

44) Do you like your own name?

45) Comfort character of all time

48) Earphones, headphones or wireless ones?

49) Would you date someone you met online after getting to know them for long enough to genuinely start something serious?

50) what birth control methods do you use or would you use?

61) what’s your favorite smell?

62) what are your biggest insecurities?

63) are you more attracted to people who are older than you, younger than you, or the same age as you?

64) are you afraid to walk alone at night?

65) What do you think is the weirdest kink?

66) Should hickey's be visible or hidden?

67) Cutest kiss? (Forehead, cheek, hand etc.)

i'm sorry i always go for the longest questions 🤣 but it's because i love you so damn much my blue 🩵

Hey my anonymous love! I may not always know who everybody is, but when I get a long list of questions, I know it's you babe!💙

11) Do you want children?

I do! My baby fever is actually insane which is why I have my reborn doll to help hold me over for the next 2-3 years until I'm ready for my first real baby.

13) Baths or showers?

Showers. Baths always freaked me out as a kid because I always thought of it as just kinda sitting in a pool of your own dirt lol. So I much prefer showers.

16) What do you typically have for breakfast?

Grits and bacon are usually my go-to. A lot of people aren't fans of grits, but I LOVE them.

18) Favorite swear word?

Daddy Fucker. I accidentally called this poor nurse a daddyfucker when he had to give me a shot in my butt. Thankfully, he found it hilarious.

19) What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

I think it was something insane like 28-30 hours last year. I had to work a full 12 hour shift and then I came home and had to move out of my apartment and that took a long time so I got no sleep!

22) What is your favorite accent?

I think Australian. Something about it is so fun to me.

24) Are you scared of spiders?

Absolutely. They terrify the living daylights out of me. Always have. If I see a spider, I immediately need someone to come kill it. I will scream and run and freak tf out.

29) Are you a gossip?

My gf says I am lol. There might be a little truth to that. But it's never malicious.

33) What makes you nervous?

Being perceived in public. When I'm out in public by myself, something about other people taking notice of me and what I'm doing makes my anxiety go up. But I have an anxiety disorder so that's just kind of my life.

34) Are you scared of the dark?

Yes. I usually have to have some source of light when I sleep. Usually, it's the TV. At the very least, it's my phone.

37) Have you ever done drugs?

I partake in some oregano when I'm bored lol. But that's it.

38) Who was your first real crush?

It was a boy in my first grade class named Christopher. I was into him real bad. He was so cute and funny to me. I hope he's doing well.

43) What makes you angry?

Ignorance and people just not minding their own business. Like please just let people do their thing if it doesn't effect you.

44) Do you like your own name?

I like my name. I think it's cute and it fits me. Especially knowing what my name almost was.

45) Comfort character of all time

There's so many to pick from. The one that comes to mind right now is Ishida from A Silent Voice. I relate to him and his struggles so hard. It makes me feel seen.

48) Earphones, headphones or wireless ones?

Wireless headphones are my favorites. They're the most comfortable and usually have the best sound quality in my opinion.

49) Would you date someone you met online after getting to know them for long enough to genuinely start something serious?

Yea. I met my current gf on tinder so I have no issue with dating people that I meet online.

50) what birth control methods do you use or would you use?

I use the pill. Well, I've been off it for a while, but it's my personal preferred method. I've been thinking about switching to the shot though. Not like I really need to worry about getting pregnant right now anyways.

61) what’s your favorite smell?

The comfort aromatherapy scent from Bath & Body Works. It's vanilla and patchouli. It smells soooo good.

62) what are your biggest insecurities?

Soooo many. I like to fake like I'm so into myself, but truth be told, I'm actually super self-conscious about my body. Particularly, my boobs and my tummy.

63) are you more attracted to people who are older than you, younger than you, or the same age as you?

My age range is for people only a couple years younger than me (maybe 23 at the youngest), but it's a wider range for older (I'd maybe cap it at like 38-ish). There's a draw for older and younger so it just depends on the personality. But I tend to lean older usually.

64) are you afraid to walk alone at night?

Yea because I live in the hood lol.

65) What do you think is the weirdest kink?

Scat play. I could never. I won't yuck someone else's yum, but I just do not understand it in the slightest and I don't want to.

66) Should hickey's be visible or hidden?

It's always more fun if they're visible in my opinion.

67) Cutest kiss? (Forehead, cheek, hand etc.)

Forehead is my favorite personally.

Thanks for the questions love! <333

#blue babbles #thanks for the ask! #thanks anon! #question game #ask me anything #ask game

[gabenvrhappened]

LifeOr... Walking In The Rain

Read the inspired lyric Ampersand

Recently, I underwent surgery. It was nothing extraordinary, but it made me change a few habits in my daily life. One of them was to walk down the streets slowly without my headphones on. Normally, I'm the person you see walking on a fast pace made of the bpms of whatever energetic, or sad song, I felt like obsessing over. Vibing with my hands floating in the air, as if I'm the only person in the world. Or as if I'm on a stage, and anyone around me is watching my every move, paralyzed by each strike of confidence. It's an energetic feeling that I don't think I'll ever get enough of, even if it makes me look silly or crazy.

However, since the surgery, I had to cut down on these moments. My late-night walks to the grocery store became afternoon walks, and the sounds I now heard were sirens, tire scratches, and gossip on the phone. Each stair I had to climb or descend was now an important piece to pay attention to, and my surroundings felt more welcoming. Not that I never walked paying attention, far from that. I'm always seeing what's around me. But the focus now changed. In these new walks while the sun is deciding if it stays or goes, as if it's really a choice, I could see more, simply because I had more time. When you're not running, time isn't running along with you. So I had the chance to feel the wind twice on my skin, and I even glanced at more guys while doing it.

Yesterday, I had the chance to do it again. Lately, life is looking even more promising and less challenging, so I took the chance to leave the house for a bit. Hours earlier, the weather was scalding, but once I set foot outside my white door, the breeze was relaxing. It had even started to drizzle. The perks of working at home, I thought, were that I didn't have to carry an umbrella for that spontaneous straw. If anything, I would be coming back home where I could be warm if I ever got drenched. And so I went.

The best part was coming back because it started raining. There I was, feeling a bit sad that I hadn't brought my earphones so I could listen to something while facing the storm's gelid, freezing blows on my (feeling like naked) skin. But I shook that feeling off and thought that this was the kind of attention to life I was looking from now on. I passed people hiding from the rain, then people going in the opposite direction of me, and then by people hiding from the rain again. Without thinking, as I had decided to do in these types of situations in my life, I struck up a small conversation with a cute guy underneath a small shelter. He was carrying grocery packages, just like me, but he was waiting for the chance to leave, not the chance to go. So I said, "Let's go", casually, and went on.

A minute later, he caught up with me, and we walked together until the end of the street, chatting about small things until we parted ways. He turned right and down the street, and I turned left and up the hill. I didn't ask for his name, but I did think about the type of encounter I just had. Usually, I'm the person who asks for names and numbers and who sees every meeting as an opportunity, but I decided that it doesn't always have to be the case. Although it made me write something about it, it felt better knowing that I wouldn't have had this experience if I had been on my phone, for example. This made me realize that there are times when I don't need to be walking fast down a street listening to a song. You see, I can choose the moments I can do that, I can choose the where and the how. But I can't choose those exchange spontaneous moments because they just happen, and they happen only if you're not guarded.

So I went home drenched only on the front, after taking a new route that I was thinking about taking but never had the courage, and moved on with my life, feeling happy, glad, and satisfied. The rest of the day went on normally, but before I went to sleep, I became obsessed with a word: collarbone. I just think it would be a nice touch to let you know that. Ever since that, I feel every simple thing deep down my bones. Read a book at a coffee shop while eating a donut can sound so mundane (although for me it was always something I loved to do), but for me, since a few days ago, feels like there's no way life can get better than this.

#LifeOrGabeNeverHappened

[stocksdemo]

Soundpeats qy7 bluetooth headphones manual

SignalPlus – This is the tech that ensures the music plays uninterrupted and without cutting out.

There is an audio message once paring is achieved and they will remember previously paired devices.

Pairing – No problems, I’ve paired these to my iPhone, iPad and my partners Moto G.

Playtime – A solid 8 hours, my last charge has lasted over 2 weeks or gym sessions, so absolutely no complaints there.

The Soundpeats Soundbeats QCY QY7 short connecting cable has not even tangled once, which is another reason why these earphones are so much better than regular ones. Go HERE to see.Not having a long lead running down under your top is a blessing especially on certain machines that place your chest against a pad. Soundpeats QY7 come in different colors on Amazon. Thanks for reading my Soundpeats QY7 review. You can get them in a bunch of different colors at and you can find them for less than $30 US dollars. Where Can I buy Soundpeats QY7 and how much? I know I sound like a broken record but the sound is really good. Good strong cord no longer equals high quality sound. But with all the cord cutting going on these days, eventually wired headphones will be replaced by wireless earbuds. Most people don’t know about wireless bluetooth headphones. They knew people would be using these for exercise so they included the clip that holds the cord tight in place and this proved to be very smart.Ī lot of people ask me where I got them and how they work. They gave you extra buds so you can use different sizes, or if they wear out you have replacements. I like that Soundpeats QY7 thought of the customers needs in a bunch of different ways. What I liked about Soundpeats QY7 wireless headphones The cover of the micro-USB port is wearing out. But I never use those cases anyway.Īt first the buttons take a little getting used to, but once you figure it out, you’ll like it.

I see some of them do, so I felt a little ripped off.

Soundpeats QY7 didn’t come with a carrying case. The charging cable it comes with is too short. What I didn’t like about Soundpeats QY7 bluetooth headphones

Multi-function buttons are easy to figure out.

Take calls, receive calls, sound quality is awesome.

USB port and Micro USB port to connect to the charger.

1 wire clip to fasten to your clothing.

3 sets of silicone earbud tips (small, medium, large).

The packaging and accessories are awesome, especially at this price range. The sound quality is excellent and they look great. These are really easy-to-use they fit really snug. I’ve never had an issue with the battery. The charge time is really quick and it lasts plenty of time for workouts. The battery life on these is about eight hours. I didn’t hear about this in other Soundpeats QY7 reviews. I didn’t realize there would be a battery in these when I bought them and I’ve never had a pair of headphones that required charging. Soundpeats didn’t have this issue they connect easily and stay connected. You have to pair things and figure out how to connect it all the time. The other main concern I had was that Bluetooth seems like a clumsy technology. And because it is so short, you don’t even notice you are wearing them. Where Soundpeats really got smart was in the no tangle design. When I would run with my old headphones the cord was too bulky and always getting in my way. Or when I’m doing sit-ups and the cord would go under my back and pull the earbuds out of my ear. I remember with my old headphones, when I was at the gym I sometimes felt like I was off-balance when getting on or off a machine. I was concerned about skipping signal loss sound quality loss noise and that they wouldn’t stay in my ear. I exercise frequently and it was important that Soundpeats QY7 could withstand my workouts. I went with the green ones pictured because I saw them in another Soundpeats QY7 review and thought they looked great. The next thing I liked about these headphones was the look there modern stylish and they just look cool. I was really shocked that headphones in this price range could sound this good. That was the most shocking part about these bluetooth earbuds. I wondered how headphones from a company that I’ve never heard of sound? I was skeptical that headphones in this price wouldn’t sound good. The first thing I noticed about these headphones was the price. SoundPeats QY7 Review: This is a Must ReadĪt the time of this soundpeats QY7 review, they were the number one selling Bluetooth headphones on Amazon.

#Soundpeats qy7 bluetooth headphones manual

[lonendly]

LOST THE SUMMER — ft CHOI SOOBIN

i can remember the very first time our eyes meets, it was at that right moment that i knew what it was to fall in love for the first time ; my heart was pounding so hard that i really though it was about to explode. to be honest, i used to live a pretty normal student life, i would never have thought that this day would change the course of my life, of the future that i was going to discover. i was excited that the turn of things was finally going to change, just because she had appeared in my life on a beautiful summer day.

headphone to my ears, i contemplated the landscape that presented themselves to me, the bus traversing them at a rather pleasant speed despite the fairly frequent stops at the bus stops or red lights which were announced in the middle of the road. i wasn’t the kind to be annoyed, to be honest i really liked to enjoy the view. the sun was orange, with some pink undertones ; the warmth of the sun brushed against my pale skin which comforting me from waking up early to go to class. it was nice, so i decided my eyes but not long after, that someone interrupts me in my little moment, tapping my shoulder with the tip of the finger certainly. i was not talkative in the morning, i was the kind of person who preferred the calm and getting lost in my bubble so i opted for ignorance which didn't seem to work. i sighed loudly, my eyebrows frowning to show them that i wasn’t open to the discussion. but the person seemed insistent, awakening my impatient side, so i finally agreed to give her my attention, opening my eyes to meet hers. i took off my headphone from one of my ears but the wrong one, subjugated. i wasn’t expecting this — absolutely not.

“excuse me, can you open the window until i get off the bus?”

“the what?”

i was so confused that my tongue almost rolled up, my language becoming almost incomprehensible. she raised her eyebrows slightly, just as confused as me, who was holding the earphone in order to be able to hear her speak but her voice was almost inaudible ; was my heart really beating that hard? i couldn't stop looking at her, as she was laughing at me as if the situation amused her, did i look that stupid? it was embarrassing. she then pointed to my other earphone ; i could see it and follow her gestures, but my body refused to cooperate, it was like i was hypnotized.

“hm?”

stupid, i was stupid — such a dumb boy who couldn’t even talk properly to a girl he meets for the first time. she came to grab my earphone so that i could hear her better, her scent finding a gentle way to me. i was finally able to hear her voice. but her gesture made me blush, this color that i tried somehow to hide by opting a neutral expression.

“can you hear me now?”

“well, i think so.”

“the morning breeze is pleasant so i just wanted to ask you if you were fine to open the-”

without any hesitation, i opened quickly the window before she could finish her sentence, putting my headphone back on as if what she was telling me was of no interest to me. but my headphone failed on me, running out of battery, something that i hated so bad. annoyed, i simply put it around my neck, showing my displeasure and frustration, the bus ride without music wasn’t an option. suddenly, this girl who had flustered me so much was slipping one of her wired earphones into my ear, giving me a smile before looking straight ahead.

“we’re not friends and we surely don’t have the same taste in music but i do hate the bus ride without music so we can share.”

“you’re still using those?”

“those? i’m not rich and plus, i can used them all the time not like yours.”

she was joking all around, without even us knowing each others as it was the case, i was the one smiling in a dumb way the whole ride.

“since we’re buddys for the bus ride from now on, can we be buddys for the wired earphones too?”

“hum, let think about it.”

“soobin, my name is soobin. choi soobin.”

“sora. i’m moon sora.”

her dimples appears and i was completely fond of her, i knew i fall in love that day.

from that day, we shared everything. we had become best friends even though my feelings for her differed from the relationship i wanted to show, far from what i wanted her to feel. the more time passed and the more difficult it was for me to ignore my feelings towards her, my jealousy sometimes stupidly taking over. i was hoping that over the years, sora's feelings might change, that she would see me differently from the boy she had always known ; i certainly wanted her to see me as a man but it felt like a lost cause. so i had decided to distance myself, my precious friend showing me no sign that could give me the courage to confess my feelings to her. i was a coward, it’s true. i was too scared it wouldn't be reciprocated, that she that she couldn't love me the same way back.

foolishly, i walked away, my best sunny days seeming to fade and grow grayer and grayer, as if the sky was willing to cry for me. to suffer for me. i changed the time i used to took the bus, ignored her calls and texts, paid less attention to her when we were talking. i avoided sora because i was in pain and because i was afraid, without suspecting that my change of attitude could have hurt her. again, i was the stupid one. she was looking for explanations, her eyes looking for mine, her smile now gone. it hurt me, terribly, so i decided to put an end to this one-sided love.

“can we stop spending so much time together? i have someone.”

my heart had shattered into a thousand pieces, but i thought i made the right choice. a choice i soon regretted when i saw her eyes turn red ; sora was holding herself back from crying and i was the cause of her pain. she just nodded and i hated it. i hated so bad knowing that she would accept without making a fuss. i wanted her to hit me and tell me i was a fool for choosing someone else over preserving our friendship. that's what i was trying to do, but i was doing it wrong. i then turned my back on the one i loved the most, murmuring in a trembling voice, my fist clenched in frustration.

“i didn’t mean to hurt you, i’m so sorry.”

from the best day of my life, then the worst one, we both tried to turn the page, although i sometimes felt her gaze on me, her heart certainly desiring just as much as me that we could reconnect. i was weak but i tried to avoid any eye contact with sora. a few months had passed since our friendship breakup, if i can call it that. i had resumed my old habits while avoiding her. that morning, it was raining heavily and it was the last day of class, i was somewhat reassured at the idea of perhaps being able to rest my heart and my thoughts which was about my first love, i was so immersed in my thoughts that i jumped when the bus stopped at her stop, as if my subconscious was still looking for her.

automatically, i turned to the empty seat she used to occupy, those memories that made me so happy made me sad today. at the sight of a pair of headphones and a blue post-it, i grabbed it with one hand.

was i hallucinating? my eyes traveled through the letters of the alphabet which followed one another to form words and then sentences. i turned my head then to the window, looking for the person i loved so much, realizing the mistake i had made these past few months. she was there, a soft smile addressed to me, her tears completely erased by the rain. — i was in the wrong all this time.

— soobin, i know you love someone else but before to leave, i wanted to be honest with you. i fall in love with you that very first day and i tried really hard to accept that one-sided love. it was hard for me but i know it was hard for you too. i'm now able to move on.

from that very last day, she had left seoul ; she had left me without knowing i was in love with her.

she had moved on, when i was unable to. — we were mean to, but it was the wrong time. bittersweet.

[cookiewrites]

i can't stop thinking about surprising chan wearing his hoodie and lingerie ahhhh

lingerie

wc: 1.7k

cw: afab reader but gender-neutral language used, soft dom!chan, studio sex, pet names for reader (angel, petal, kitten, little one), oral (reader receiving), nipple play, teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, a little bit of dumbification, the tiniest amount of cum play and corruption if you squint (let me know if i missed anything)

you cannot tell me chan doesn't love seeing his partners in his hoodies and jumpers. like the subtle possessiveness, the way he'd get to show off you were his but in a borderline cute way. and it doesn't need to be huge and baggy on you, as long as it was on you he'd be low-key addicted to it.

he'd leave them around for you, around both yours and his places. he'd never ask you to put them on but you always would bc they'd be left in the most convenient places; like on the arm of the couch in your living room, the back of your desk chair, always a hoodie on the coat hooks by your door. and eventually, you began to realise how happy he'd get when you'd put them on. always praising you; arm sliding around your waist as he goes to whisper in your ear:

'you look so good beautiful'

'look far better in my clothes than i do'

'gorgeous, little one, just perfect'

but you don't get the idea to push it further until you're scrolling on instagram one day and see this new beautiful black lace lingerie set being advertised. the first thought was to ignore it; you've never really been one to dress up like that, not even sure if it was something chan wanted from you. but the second thought was that it would go so well with one of chan's jumpers, like all that black, the contrast of masculine and feminine. and you didn't manage a third thought because you were soon focused on inputting your card details.

waiting for it to arrive was hard, simultaneously excited and nervous for the package. refreshing the tracking whilst you were at work, and sitting by the door when you were home. chan knew you were waiting for something but didn't know what, and you refused to tell him what it was, almost embarrassed. chan and you had had a very simple, vanilla sex like up until that point, you weren't sure if even lingerie would be pushing it too far for him.

three days later you opened the package up, alone in your bedroom, unfolding the tissue paper to reveal the pieces; the garter belt and thigh-highs being the cherry on top of the cake. picking the fabric up it was soft between your fingers, the straps beautiful, the subtle hardware all gold.

deciding to try it on first, in the privacy of your apartment, you slipped it on. taking a deep breath and turning to look in the mirror and damn. okay. wow. did you look like the model? no, but you still looked incredible. reaching over to the hoodie your boyfriend had left on your chair, you slipped it over the top and okay. shit. this was a great idea.

slipping on a pair of joggers over the top of everything before you chickened out, you made your way to the jyp building, and up to chan's studio. you managed to catch changbin and han as they were leaving, allowing you to slip your way into the room without having to alert chan. finding him completely absorbed into his work, with his headphones on. you took advantage of his ignorance of your existence to do three things; lock the studio door, hype yourself up, and slip your sweatpants off.

slowly walking up, you unplugged his earphones from one ear as you leant over the back of the chair; running your hands slowly down his chest, pressing a small deliberate kiss into the nook of his neck.

'hello beautiful, what are you doing here?'

he murmurs, half trying his best to focus on his work despite how distracting you were being.

'visiting you channie'

'yeah? you're more than welcome, i need to finish working on this though petal'

taking a deep breath, you whispered in his ear;

'at least turn around to kiss me channie, please'

as he does he looked at your face and his jumper, smiling, and then his eyes moved downwards he spotting your almost-bare lower half and he almost choked on his own spit. immediately reaching forward to pull you closer, running his hands up the outside of your thighs, feeling the mesh against his fingertips as his voice lowers;

'now what is all this for gorgeous?'

'for you channie, all for you'

you move forward to sit on his lap, making your way into his desk chair, which he welcomed. his arms moving up to wrap around your waist feeling lace against your skin and the warmth of it all from his jumper. leaning forward you initiate the first kiss of the night, soft and warm but dripping with want from both of you. his plush lips against your own, moving in a lazy but motivated rhythm. pulling away to catch a breath you immediately started on his neck, mixing in small nibbles and bites to make him gasp.

'i don't know what i did to deserve this angel, fuck'

'you look so good in all this'

'my jumper too, my kitten yeah? all mine?'

pulling away, and pushing your hands under the jumper he was wearing you nodded. making eye contact with him, seeing the lust darken his eyes.

'all yours chris, only yours'

and this was the dam breaking. his hands immediately going under your thighs to lift you up, placing you on the couch behind him, before kneeling down in between your legs. leaning back he looked at you in your entirety; his jumper a mess slightly pushed up revealing the set you had picked out just for him; fuck he couldn't be harder.

pulling your face down to meet his you kissed again, needier this time, with tongue and teeth and small moans and whines. it was perfect, a give and take and mutual desire.

'i don't want you to take this off, fuck'

'ever?'

he laughs slightly, falling a little bit more in love with you as you manage to make a joke in a room so heavy with lust.

'ever, fuck petal.'

'whatever you what chris'

'good, my angel'

he murmurs as he pushes up the hoodie you were wearing to reveal the top of your outfit, immediately thumbing at your hard nipples, almost as if to reward you for dressing up for him. leaning forward to suck and bite through the lace. dampening it and the mix of textures just adding to the whole experience, causing you to moan out.

'so loud, beautiful, you're being so good tonight'

as he leans in to playfully bite on one nipple he pulls away again to ask;

'now as grateful as i am, and i am grateful petal...'

a bite on the other nipple. not a moan but a whine left your mouth this time, needing more than this teasing.

'where did this come from? huh? where did my innocent baby go?'

'i...fu-chris!'

and just as you try to answer, to explain yourself, chan pushes your underwear to the side and presses his thumb down on your clit. the almost electric shock of pleasure making it hard to focus on whatever you had been asked.

'yeah angel? go on'

he encourages, smirking up at you as his began to rub lazy circles on your bundle of nerves.

'i... fuck... saw it on in-instagram and th-thought, fuck, chriiissss-'

'already too fucked out to answer a simple question baby? you're basically dripping on the couch'

he teases, increasing the pace of his thumb slightly.

'n-no, i-i'm no-not'

'prove it then little one, answer my question and i promise-' he pauses, briefly slipping a finger into your hole making you moan slightly too loud, before returning back to the circles on your clit, increasing in pace again '-i'll make you feel so good.'

'o-okaayy. i, uh, fuck, i thought you'd l-like iiiit if i dd-dressed t-tooo' and as the pace increases slightly again you lose track, leaning back and allowing yourself to simply enjoy the feeling of chan's hands making you feel good - your words simply turning to moans. until they weren't anymore transforming once again to whines at the sudden disappearance of your boyfriend - immediately frustrated at the subtle edging, you look down to see him expectantly looking up at you.

'whilst i normally enjoy just how quickly i can make you dumb little one, how quickly i can empty that head of yours, i asked one question. i expect you to answer it kitten. now.'

's-sorry d-daddy, so-sorry' you stutter, not thinking, as you see his face light up at the title, leaning up to kiss you hard and fast, before pulling back just as quickly;

'again. call me that again.'

you smile against his lips.

'daddyyy'

'fuck kitten, don't think this gets you out of trouble.' he says as he slips two fingers into you, as you immediately moan from the satisfaction of being full. each of his following words was permeated with one distinct thrust of his fingers;

'answer'

you moan, feeling the way your walls contract around him.

'the'

again, you're getting louder again, almost moving your arm to cover your own mouth before he caught it, holding it still.

'question'

one more time, but this time he keeps them dead still inside you. not moving an inch. somehow this was even more frustrating.

'fu-fuck okay um, if i dressed t-to match your ho-hoodie. you l-like me i-in your clothes so, i, fuck, thought y-you'd l-like this tooooo'

as you finish your sentence chan leaned forward and immediately took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it as his fingers picked up speed again. all the frustration and teasing and the thick atmosphere of it all already putting you on edge as you move your hand forward so your fingers could find their home in his curls.

you close your eyes, simply allowing yourself to feel as chan continued his movements, curling his fingers to hit your spot with just enough force to have you seeing stars. it's so perfect and before you can even really think to warn him, you cum.

he pulls away, mouth wet with your juices, directing the fingers that were previously inside you to your own lips as you obediently take them inside your mouth, running your tongue around them.

'good kitten'

'you look even prettier now' he comments the unoccupied hand touches your ruined make-up and runs through your hair.

'my pretty angel, so good for dressing up for me, so good for daddy.'

'hope you're not too tired yet petal, daddy's not done playing with you yet. i won't be done until I've ruined every part of this pretty outfit.'

'i'll buy you plenty more, don't worry kitten'.

#bang chan #bang chan smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #chan smut #stray kids #stray kids chan #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids drabble

[sunghun]

a colour i’ll never know

pairing: badboy!heeseung x librarian!musician!reader

summary: The world isn't always in black and white. And who better to teach you that than a bad boy in leather?

warnings: cursing, mentions of food, y/n gets followed by some creepy drunk guys towards the end.

word count: 5,993.

note: the way this is both the fastest i've ever written something and also the longest thing i've ever written... lol bad boy heeseung the things u do to me. i made a playlist here of all the pieces mentioned in the fic if you want to listen to them!!

happy valentine's day!!

For the most part, you enjoyed working at the library. It was quiet (which did wonders for the many headaches you got from staying up too late), the pay was pretty decent, and you were surrounded by books all day.

Some might’ve thought it to be too lonely, considering the fact that the only people you interacted with were frazzled college students who were too busy doing last minute studying to initiate small talk, and Mrs. Johnson, the head librarian, but you never minded. A set of underdeveloped social skills always tended to make you feel awkward when you interacted with people you didn’t know, and you found working in a place so quiet and undisturbed felt much more natural, as opposed to working as a barista in a coffee shop that never died down.

It made you uncomfortable just thinking about it. You had no idea how Lia did it every day.

So yes. The library was quiet, and peaceful, and boring, and just how you liked it.

Especially now, seeing as it was a Monday morning, and most of the people that usually came in were probably too busy nursing awful hangovers to even get out of bed.

You sighed contentedly as you placed Macbeth back on the shelf, Schubert’s Impromptu No. 3 playing softly from your headphones. Even though returning books to proper places on shelves was often boring and rather tedious, it felt relaxing after the hectic weekend you’d had, trying to catch up on the assignment your music professor had given you.

You always did hate theory-

“-hello? Anyone home up there?” Your right earphone had been abruptly pulled out and the music replaced by the sound you hated possibly more than anything.

Someone was trying to get your attention, and evidently they chose to do it in the most obnoxious way possible.

You inhaled deeply, bade farewell to Mansfield Park as you placed it on the shelf, and turned to see who dared to approach you, only to stop short.

Because there was no way Lee Heeseung was standing in front of you right now.

Lee Heeseung, who was never seen in anything but dark colours, had more piercings than you could count, an arm full of tattoos, and drove a motorcycle.

Lee Heeseung, who you had never seen anywhere near the library before.

Lee Heeseung, who apparently was standing in front of you, and who looked you up and down with a raised brow.

You cleared your throat, hoping the shock didn’t show on your face. “Yes? Can I help you with something?”

A slow smirk made itself at home on his face. “You’d already know the answer to that if you weren’t listening to music on the job, sweetheart.” He shook his head in mock disappointment, clicking his tongue.

You narrowed your eyes. “What I do on the job is none of your business. And it’s not like it’s against the rules anyway.”

Heeseung’s eyebrows raised. “Well well well, who knew little Miss Librarian had some fire in her.” He leaned in, getting much too close for comfort. “What music has you getting so defensive, hm?”

Without even asking, Heeseung picked up the earbud that was hanging down limply and lifted it close enough to hear what was playing. By now Schubert’s piece had ended, and Bruch’s second movement from Violin Concerto No. 1 was playing softly.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes upon hearing the music. “Classical, how boring and stereotypical.”

“Oh really?” You snatched your earbud back. “A bit bold of you to be judging a book by its cover, don’t you think Mr Badboy Wannabe?”

Watching Heeseung’s overly confident front start to crumble gave you some kind of twisted satisfaction.

You stood up straighter, gripping on the handle of the book trolley. “Now, do you actually need help with something? Or can I go back to my job and boring music?”

Heeseung seemed to be debating with himself on whether it was worth it to ask you for something, but before he could (most likely) come up with some kind of ridiculous excuse for no longer needing help, someone suddenly came up behind him, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Hey man, you find the book yet?”

Jay Park. The only child of a very well off CEO, culinary arts major, and Lee Heeseung’s best friend.

Heeseung frowned. “No. I’ve looked everywhere for it, but I guess they don’t have it.”

“Damn, that’s too ba-“

“What book is it?” You interrupted. “Maybe I could help you find it.”

“There’s no need for tha-“

“Oh sweet!” Jay handed you a small piece of paper. “It’s this one.”

You unfolded it, raising a brown once you read the title.

“Let me guess, you don’t have it?” Heeseung’s cocksure attitude was back and more infuriating than before. “Or are you just not a fan, sweetheart?”

“Making assumptions again, are we?” You stepped closer to him, so close your noses were almost touching. The way he didn’t even flinch, but very obviously glanced down at your lips told you everything you needed to know about him.

But instead of closing the distance like you were sure he was expecting you to do, you leaned your head back a bit and reached up between your faces, grasping the spine of a book and pulling it out. “Enjoy, sweetheart.”

You shoved the book into his chest and turned around, not bothering to glance back as you put your other earbud in, and pushed the trolley down the aisle and into the next one.

To say Heeseung was stunned as he watched you walk away would have been the understatement of the century. But as he looked down at the book in his hands, Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus, he knew one thing for sure.

He had to get to know you.

The next time Heeseung went to the library, he had the pleasure of seeing you again, only this time you weren’t working.

The table you were sitting at was next to the window, with golden sun rays shining through, giving the perfect natural lighting. As he got closer he could see that you had one of your headphones in, the other lying limp along your chest, and your phone lying on the table upward allowed him to see that you were once again listening to classical music. Specifically Dvorak’s Violin Concerto in A Minor.

“Do you listen to anything but that boring music?”

You didn’t even bother looking up from your book. “I know you didn’t just call Dvorak boring.”

“You’re right, I called his music boring.”

You glanced up at him, unimpressed. “Is there a reason you’re talking to me? Or do you just enjoy annoying people?”

Heeseung gasped dramatically, lifting a hand to place over his heart and groaning like he’d been shot. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

You closed the book with a sigh. It was clear you wouldn’t be getting any studying done with him here. “Are you ever going to stop calling me sweetheart?”

“Not like I have anything else to call you.” Heeseung pulled out the chair across from you and made himself at home on it.

“Of course. Not like I have a name or anything.”

He tipped his chair back and propped his feet up on the table. “Not one that you’ve given me.”

You reached across and shoved his feet down, biting back a laugh at the way he momentarily flailed before catching himself. “You should know better than to contaminate the library like that.”

“‘Contaminate’?” He looked at you incredulously. “What am I, some kind of virus?”

You shrugged and started stacking up your books. “Who knows. You might have some kind of badboy cooties that I don’t know about.”

“I thought we left cooties back in first grade.”

“Of course you did.”

“I’m Heeseung by the way.”

You stared at him blankly. “I know.”

Heeseung smirked, his lip ring glinting in the sunlight. “So you’ve heard of me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You rolled your eyes. “Is there anyone on campus who hasn’t heard of you?”

“I see my reputation precedes me.” As much as you hated to admit it, the way he leaned back in the chair, arms crossed and legs spread, was kind of attractive.

He raised a brow at you.

Really attractive.

You stood up with a sigh and picked up your stack of books. “To say the least. Now if you’ll excuse me, I would actually like to get some studying done.”

Heeseung felt a small sense of disappointment as he watched you walk away again. “So no name?” He called out rather loudly, ignoring all the dirty looks and shushing.

You glanced back with a smile. “You’ll just have to earn it, sweetheart.”

“I can’t believe you said that to him.”

You continued reshelving books but spared a glance at Lia. “Why?”

“Um, because it’s Lee Heeseung? Hello? The dude is scary as hell.”

“Really?” You walked out of the aisle and went to the desk with Lia following you not far behind. “I guess the tattoos and piercings can be considered kind of intimidating. Or more so the piercings since I haven’t seen any of his tattoos yet. I swear it could be a 100 degrees and he’d still wear that stupid leather jacket.”

Lia grabbed a random book that was sitting on the desk and started paging through it. “Sounds like someone is a little upset that she hasn’t gotten to see the Harms yet.”

You turned to her with a frown. “The what?”

“Harms. Heeseung arms."

“Heeseung arms. Harms.” You stared at her for a moment before shaking your head. “You spend too much time on Twitter, you know that?”

“Yes yes, I know. It’s a fatal flaw, a red flag, whatever. As I was saying though, I think it’s really-“

“And how’s the prettiest librarian to ever walk to earth doing today?”

You sighed deeply and looked up at Heeseung. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen Mrs. Johnson since yesterday.”

“So feisty for no reason, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you rolled your eyes. “You haven’t seen feisty yet.”

“Oh really? Maybe you’d like to show me sometime.”

Lia looked back and forth between the two of you. “You two look like you need some alone time, so I’m just gonna head out. See you later Y/- ” At your sharp look she cut herself off. “Right. Yeah. See you later.”

Once Lia had left, you turned to Heeseung. “May I help you?”

He grinned flirtatiously. “Just here to return a book.”

You sat down on the chair as he placed it on the counter. “About time. I was beginning to think you lost it.”

“I didn’t think you were the type to judge slow readers, sweetheart.”

“I’m not,” You scanned the book back into the system. “But I am one to judge people who wait until the day after the due date to return something.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “What can I say? When I read something I really like to make sure I absorb it.”

You stood up with the book he returned, as well as a few others, and started towards the aisles that they belonged in. “Yeah, you would.”

Heeseung followed you, apparently not getting the hint that you were done talking to him. “So when can I take you out?”

“That depends.” You placed Jane Eyre back in her rightful spot. “Do you mean take me out as in you’re planning an assassination, or take me out on a date?”

“A date of course.”

You turned to him with the sweetest smile you could muster. “Never.”

He followed you to the next aisle as well. “You can’t mean that, sweetheart.”

“Can’t I?”

“But how could you go through life without knowing what it’s like to go on a date with the one and only Lee Heeseung?”

You snorted. “I think I’ll live.”

“Not even one, teeny, tiny date?”

You turned to look at him for a moment, considering. He really knew how to do the puppy-dog eyes well.

Finally, you sighed. “Fine. If you can find out my name all by yourself, I’ll go out with you.”

“Wait really-“

“But that means no asking your friends, my friends, or any of our professors. Deal?” You held out your hand, and Heeseung took it without hesitation.

“Deal.”

Seeing Heeseung somewhere besides the library felt odd. It was almost like you’d forgotten that he existed outside of the building.

And yet as you saw him walking towards you while you were sitting in the courtyard waiting for Lia, you could feel an odd mix of dread and excitement in the pit of your stomach.

For once, Heeseung wasn’t wearing his trademark leather jacket, and despite the fact that it was the beginning of February and cold as fuck, he was wearing a short sleeved shirt. Which meant that you could see his ink covered forearms and biceps.

A voice in your head that sounded suspiciously like Lia was chanting Harms, Harms, Harms.

You were never going to forgive her for planting that seed in your thoughts.

“How’s my sweetheart doing today?”

You desperately hoped that he hadn’t caught you checking him out. “Well I was doing great until about two seconds ago when some crazy guy wearing short sleeves in winter started talking to me.”

Heeseung sat down on the bench beside you. “What can I say? Gotta find some way to woo you into going out with me.”

“Giving up on my name so soon?”

“I wouldn’t say giving up, more so….showing off what could be yours if you just tell me what it is yourself.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. “And you thought that getting frostbite would be the best way to do it?”

“I mean…” Heeseung scooted closer and lifted his arm, placing it on the top of the bench behind you. “I could’ve just stripped down in the library, but somehow I didn’t think you’d be as appreciative of that as Mrs. Johnson would.”

You rolled your eyes. “Congratulations, you finally made a smart decision.” The wind started to pick up, and you could see Heeseung start to shiver ever so slightly. “Though not really considering you’re practically freezing to death. Where’s your jacket?”

You weren’t sure if it was the cold weather, but you could’ve sworn that he was blushing. “I uh, I kind of left it at my apartment.”

“Of course you did,” you muttered, standing up. “Come on Frosty, let’s go some place warm before it gets so cold your heart freezes.”

“That’s impossible as long as you’re around sweetheart.”

You didn’t bother to reply as you pulled out your phone and texted Lia, asking to reschedule your study date, to which she enthusiastically agreed.

You were already several steps away when you realized that Heeseung wasn’t following you. Looking back you saw him still sitting on the bench, watching you go with an unreadable expression on his face.

You decided to ignore that for now. “Are you coming or was it your plan all along to get hypothermia?”

“That depends,” Heeseung stood up and jogged the few paces over. “If I do get hypothermia, will you nurse me back to health?”

“Aww,” You patted his cheek with your mitten-clad hand. “Not a chance.”

The cafe you took Heeseung to was one you visited often, seeing as it wasn't far from your apartment. As you stepped into the warm building filled with the bittersweet aroma of coffee and sweet cream, you almost felt like you were home.

“Huh,” He looked around, admiring all the duck themed decorations. “I didn’t take you as the kind of person who liked cutsey cafes.”

You side-eyed him. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

He turned to look at you head on. “I hope I can have the opportunity to learn, then.”

Had his eyes always had those little specks of gold in them?

You cleared your throat and looked away. “Right, um. Do you want anything to eat or drink? My treat.”

The look of pure joy on Heeseung’s face as he picked out a pastry struck something deep within you.

Maybe he’s not so bad after all…

“I must say I’m rather disappointed, Y/N.” Mr. Scott, your music teacher, shook his head. “Haven’t you practiced anything I taught you last week?”

“Yes, of course I have. It’s just-“

“No. No more excuses. Play it again.”

You’d never been the biggest fan of Mozart, and as you were forced to play Sonata in C for the third time that afternoon, you knew your hatred was starting to show through your playing.

This time you didn’t even get the whole way through it before Mr. Scott was stopping you.

“Look Y/N, I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to fix it. I know you can play better than this. I don’t want to feel like I’m listening to a robot playing, I need to hear your emotion. Learn the piece so you know it like the back of your hand, and then put some emotion into it. Think about what story you want to tell with it. Don’t come to me until you think you can do that, otherwise we’ll be wasting both of our time.”

You watched Mr. Scott walk out of the music room from your place at the piano. When he was out of sight you let out a deep breath.

As much as you wanted to pretend you didn’t care, getting scolded by people, especially your music teacher, always left you feeling sensitive and exposed. It wasn’t like you wanted to play with the piece with no emotion, you just couldn’t seem to find the pulse, which frustrated you to no end.

“Well that guy sounds like a real asshole.”

Heeseung was the last person you had expected to see here, but if the past few weeks had taught you anything when it comes to him, it was to expect the unexpected.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “How long were you standing out there?”

“Oh, long enough.” He said vaguely, walking further into the room to stand beside the piano. “Really though, it sounded great. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

You huffed. “Yes he does, he was right about everything. It may have sounded perfect technically, but musically it was like a dying fish.”

“Huh,” Heeseung started looking through the music you had stacked on the side of the piano. “I honestly couldn’t tell the difference.”

“Trust me, if I was playing something I actually enjoyed, you’d be able to tell.”

“Oh really? Play me one of your favourite pieces then.”

You stared at him for a moment.

“Fine.”

Taking a deep breath, you placed your fingers on the cold, solid keys. The music that floated through the room felt intimately familiar. You used to play it so much each note felt like a part of you.

The silence after you played the final chord felt almost deafening.

“What’s it called?” Heeseung asked quietly.

“Romance in F minor, Opus 5. It’s one of my favorites from Tchaikovsky.”

He huffed and sat down on the bench beside you. “Didn’t sound very romantic.”

You frowned. “It didn’t?”

“Nah. Isn’t romance supposed to be all sappy and in love? Shouldn’t it have been something happy and bouncy sounding?”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s only one aspect of romance. There’s more than one layer to things like that. This piece does sound romantic, it’s just supposed to be showing the more depressing and dark side of romance. The doubts, the fears, the ‘what if’s’.”

Heeseung tilted his head. “I never thought about it that way. I guess not everything is set in black and white.”

“Exactly. That’s why you cant just listen to what’s being played, but how it’s being played.”

“I just hear music.”

“See? That’s the problem. You can’t just hear the music, you have to hear it.”

Heeseung blinked. “You just said the exact same thing.”

“Not like that,” you rolled your eyes. “You have to listen to what it’s saying. Like the first movement of Wienawski’s Violin Concerto Number 2. If you just listen to it it’ll sound like yet another boring classical piece. But if you listen to it and really hear it, you’ll hear the emotion, the words, the story it’s trying to tell.”

“And what do you hear when you listen to it?” Heeseung’s voice was soft.

You thought about it for a moment. “I hear anger. I hear a weakness that’s trying to make itself strong, and a disappointment wishing it could be content and being frustrated that it isn’t. But most of all I hear an underlying but deep-set pain.”

“Wow,” he breathed. “You really hear all that?”

You started messing with a string from your hoodie. “Yeah. It’s-It’s weird, I know.”

“No!” You’d never seen Heeseung’s eyes wider. “It’s not weird at all. I think it’s amazing how you can hear it and just….know.” He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a small, humorless laugh. “I wish I could do that. I guess I’m just too dumb.”

You placed your hand on top of his hesitantly. “Don’t say that. You’re never too dumb to understand something, it just takes time.”

“You think?” He turned his hand over and laced your fingers together.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“Thanks Y/N.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “Wha- How did you-“

“I told you I was out there long enough.” Heeseung grinned. “So how does Friday at 6:00 sound?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Y/N! I promise I’m a safe driver and I’ll even go extra slow for you!”

You crossed your arms and looked Heeseung dead in the eyes. “I don’t care if you’re going five miles an hour, there is no way on God’s green earth that I am getting on that death trap.”

Heeseung stepped closer and grasped your arms gently. “Y/N, I know I don’t have the greatest reputation, but I would never do something reckless when I’m responsible for someone else’s life. Especially yours.” His eyes were wide and imploring. “Please, sweetheart?”

You sighed, dropping your arms. “Those bambi eyes should really be illegal.”

You held your hand out for a helmet, and Heeseung’s grin almost made it worth it.

Almost because by the time you got to your destination and took off the helmet, your hair looked like a bird’s nest.

Heeseung clapped a hand over his mouth, presumably to stop himself from laughing.

You glared at him. “I hate you and your stupid bike.”

“It’s not that bad…” He cleared his throat and busied himself with getting some things out of the side pouch on his motorcycle. “Really. I think you look cute.”

You took the blanket out of his arms so he had a free hand to carry the other things. “And I think you’re a liar.”

“Think whatever you want sweetheart, still doesn’t change the fact that you look adorable even with messy hair.” Heeseung closed the bag and motioned for you to follow him.

“What are we even doing, anyway?” You asked, cheeks burning. “You didn’t bring me all the way up here just to turn me into a skin suit, did you?”

Heeseung looked over his shoulder with a teasing smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yes?” You frowned. “Why do you think I asked.”

“Look,” Heeseung had stopped abruptly, just staring ahead. “isn’t it beautiful?”

You stepped around him and suddenly felt breathless. You had admittedly been rather suspicious of Heeseung when he took you out of the city and up a large hill, but now, as you were looking out and could see all the buildings and lights sparkling with the sun setting in the background, you were left speechless.

Eventually you were broken out of your trance by Heeseung’s voice. “Here, you can spread the blanket out here.”

You did as instructed and sat down next to him, letting out a laugh when you saw what he had in the grocery bag.

“Juice boxes and lunchables, huh?”

“Of course, only the finest of dining for my lady.” Your eyebrows raised at the endearment, but for once you decided not to comment on it. “Just wait til you see what I have for dessert.”

You picked up a Capri-Sun and pulled the straw off, sticking it into the premarked hole. “That better not have been a dick joke.”

Heeseung choked on the cracker he had just taken a bite out of. “Wow, okay.” His voice was scratchy. “You really don’t pull any punches, do you?”

You shrugged, picking up your own cracker. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

After finishing your food and drinks as well as desert (turns out it wasn’t a dick joke, but he had also brought fruit snacks), the two of you laid back on the blanket and looked at the sky. The sun had fully set several minutes ago and the stars seemed to shine brighter than you’d ever seen before.

“Oh, before I forget,” Heeseung pulled out his phone and messed with it for a moment before the beginning notes of Myaskovsky’s Cello Sonata No. 2 started playing from it softly.

You looked at him curiously, and he avoided eye contact with you, though you could see his cheeks starting to turn pink. “What brought this on?”

“I, uh. I’ve been listening to classical music lately. I wanted to see what it was you were talking about, with the story telling and emotions and all that.”

“Really?” You couldn’t hide the shock in your voice.

He finally turned to look at you, “Yeah. This one is my favorite so far.”

“Why?”

“I…I like how delicate it sounds. Even though later on it turns into something grand and majestic, there’s still an underlying thread of fragility that sounds like it could break any second. It’s,” he swallowed, almost nervous. “It’s vulnerable.”

You smiled, turning on your side and snuggling close to him. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” You looked up, finding Orion’s Belt. “It almost reminds me of the night sky. Even though it’s bigger than we could ever imagine, it still has this delicacy that makes it feel like we could almost reach up and put the stars right into our hands.”

Heeseung’s left hand started to run through your hair, while the other lifted your hand that was resting against his stomach to his lips for a soft kiss on the back of it. “I think I’ve already got a star in my hands.”

It had been about two weeks since your first (and so far only) date with Heeseung, and to say you had become smitten with him would be an understatement. When he dropped you off at the front door of your apartment he had given you a sweet kiss on your cheek and a piece of paper with his number on it, and left with a quiet “Sweet dreams, Y/N.” whispered between you.

Unfortunately, even though you texted each other every day along with the occasional call, you hadn’t been able to see him much since then. With him being more busy than usual with classes (finding out he was studying psychology was quite the surprise) and you picking up extra shifts at the library, finding time to actually seemed to be impossible at the moment.

At least until the night before Valentine’s Day.

It had already been a long day, seeing as what felt like every student in the surrounding colleges and high schools decided to do their last minute studying today. You had been at the library since noon, and you were just starting the walk home now, at 10:30.

You had just crossed the street, still several blocks from home, when the uncomfortable feeling of being watched started to settle over you. You looked over your shoulder as discreetly as possible, and sure enough. There were three men, probably not much older than yourself, most likely drunk with the way they were walking, and definitely following you.

You started to walk a bit faster and pulled out your phone. Your hands were shaking as you went into your recent calls and tapped Lia’s name. Even if she would never let you live this down, you could put up with a lifetime of teasing if it meant you got home safe.

As soon as you heard her pick up the phone you started talking. “Hey baby! I just left the library, where do you wanna meet up?”

“Y/N?”

That was definitely not Lia’s voice.

“H-Heeseung?” You pulled your phone away from your ear and looked at the contact name. Sure enough the name, Heeseungie <3 was staring back at you “Oh, hey, uh, sorry about that.I meant to call Lia because there’s these guys following me and I think they’re drunk but that doesn’t really make it any better and I just thought that maybe if I pretended that I was calling my boyfriend they’d leave me alone but I…I don’t really think it’s working. I don’t know.” You tried to make your voice as quiet as possible.

“What? Where are you?”

You glanced behind you. They were still there. “A few blocks from the library. I think they’re getting closer.”

“Are there any stores around that are open?”

“Yeah, there’s a 24-hour convenience store a little bit up ahead.”

“Okay, good.” Heeseung sounded relieved. “Just wait in there, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Wait what? Heeseung, no. It-It’s fine I can just wait in there until they leave or something. You don’t need to get up or anything I can-“

“Sweetheart.”

You swallowed. “Yes?”

“Wait in there. I’ll get there as soon as possible.” His tone left no room for argument. “What store is it?”

“Okay…” Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you were relieved. “It’s CU.”

“Alright. Just hold tight, I’ll see you soon.” You could hear rustling on the other side of the line. “Do you want to stay on the phone with me until I get there?”

You rolled your eyes as you pulled the door open. ”I’m not a baby, Heeseung.”

“I never said you were, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to be scared.” His breathing started to pick up, almost like he was running. “I’m almost there.”

“Okay,” You made your way to the aisle with chips and pretended like you were trying to pick one. “You can hang up if you want.”

“I never want to hang up on you sweetheart,” You could practically see his flirty grin. “Did they follow you into the store?”

You glanced at the entrance, feeling even more on edge when you spotted them loitering around it, probably also pretending to look at things. “Yeah.”

“Alright, I can see the store. See you in a second,”

You hung up without a word, putting your phone back into your bag and staring intently at the chips. Would Cheetos be an appropriate last meal?

“Hey baby.” Your head snapped to the end of the aisle, seeing Heeseung walking towards you. He was wearing a tight, short sleeved shirt once again, displaying his tattoos, but instead of the usual black jeans and boots, he was in a pair of dark grey sweatpants and black and white sneakers. Upon reaching you he wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. “How’s my favorite girl?”

You leaned against him, placing your hands overtop of his and lacing your fingers together. “A lot better now that you’re here.”

“What’s this?” He gasped dramatically. “Y/N is actually happy to see me? I better mark this on the calendar.”

“Shut up,” you elbowed him gently. “I’m always happy to see you.”

Heeseung huffed. “Oh really? Tell that to the Y/N of last month.”

You looked up at him with a teasing smile. “You mean the Y/N that was being hit on relentlessly by the guy who had never spoken more than one word to her before? That Y/N?”

“…fair enough.”

You turned back to the chips. “Yeah I thought so.”

“You wanna get something and go back to my place? We could have a movie night or something.” His thumb started rubbing yours gently. “No funny business, I promise.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “That sounds nice.”

You each picked out a few snacks and a drink, paying for them as quickly as possible and making your way to the entrance, where the three drinks were still waiting. Apparently they hadn’t gotten the hint.

Just as you were passing by them, the shortest of the three muttered something too quiet for you to hear, but it obviously wasn’t anything good seeing as Heeseung immediately let go of your hand and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close to his face. “You wanna say that about my girlfriend again?”

You’d never seen him look this intimidating, even before you really got to know him. If you were being completely honest, it was kind of hot.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He struggled against Heeseung’s hold while his friends watched with wide eyes.

Heeseung narrowed his eyes with a huff. “That’s what I thought.” He let him go and grabbed your hand again. “C’mon sweetheart, let’s go home.”

You were about a block away from the store when you finally decided to speak up. “So… girlfriend, huh?”

Even in the dim light from the street-lamps you could still see Heeseung start to blush. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly with his free hand. “I actually wanted to ask you when we had our date, but I thought it was too soon.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I can’t guarantee that I would’ve said yes, so it was probably for the best.”

“Right.” It was obvious he was at least somewhat disappointed. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t then.”

By now the two of you had reached Heeseung’s apartment building. He moved to unlock the front door, but you tightened your hold on his hand, pulling him back. “If you wanted to ask me now, though…”

“Now?” His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Wouldn’t you want it to be more, I don’t know, romantic?”

“Who said it’s not romantic? It’s the night before Valentine’s Day, you just saved me from a couple of drunk idiots, and you bought me snacks.” You shrugged. “Can’t get much more romantic than that.

“Alright,” Heeseung suddenly dropped to one knee, holding your free hand with both of his. “Y/N, sweetheart, would you allow me to have the honor and privilege of having you as my girlfriend, and letting me be your boyfriend?”

“Hmm,” you pretended to think about it. “I suppose I could.”

He stood back up with a grin, placing his hands on your cheeks and leaning in close. “Does that mean I get to kiss you now?”

“If I recall correctly, you’ve already kissed me.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes and leaned in even closer, your noses brushing together. It reminded you of the day you first talked to each other.

“Trust me sweetheart,” his lips brushed against yours. “When I kiss you for real, you’ll be able to tell.”

“Oh really? Prove it-“

Before you could even finish your sentence, his lips were on yours, and you could already feel yourself getting addicted to the way his soft lips moved against yours, contrasting with the cold metal of his lip piercing pressing against the corner of your mouth.

When you finally broke apart, you were both panting for air.

“If that’s what a real kiss is, you’ve been holding out on me.”

“Oh?” Heeseung pecked your lips once more. “Guess I’ll just have to make up for it then.”

You grinned. “I look forward to it.”

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung scenarios #lee heeseung fluff #enhypen fluff

[chans-bad-girl]

Hi there! I'm very sleepy right now but suddenly this came into my mind : "what is skz reaction when they caught you touching yourself? Maybe they'll asking for mutual masturbation? Or just watching you? Or ended up having sex with you??" Thank you in advance~ guess I can't sleep tonight!!

Hey, hope you're getting your sleep lol

Stray Kids reactions: they catch you touching yourself (+scenarios)

warnings: voyeurism, masturbation (female and male), toys, dumbification, pet names, nipple play, mutual masturbation, mentions of piv, dirty talk, mirror sex, wall sex

chan:

maybe giving your boyfriend a spare key to your apartment wasn't the best idea because now you're sprawled out on your couch, pictures of him on your phone while the bunny vibrator is put on the highest setting. tbh you wouldn't have noticed him standing there with takeout if he didn't grab your hand and take control of the toy. face cold, he whispers into your ear, "tell me when you're horny next time and you won't need my pictures anymore." (which he says while pushing the toy further inside you)

lee know:

minho likes going to bed early. he usually goes to bed at 11, preferably at 10, and sleeps his 8 hours in ignorant bliss of his girlfriend's moans muffled in her pillow. emphasis: usually. because tonight, he feels the shaking and hears the squelching sounds through his lighter-than-usual slumber. "bunny, please touch yourself quieter, I need my sleep." will go back to sleep and then rail you tomorrow while he teases you about it with all the energy he got from his beauty rest.

changbin:

he got you a bullet vibrator for your 1-year-anniversary and boy are you keen to use it. it's been glimmering at you from across your room and now that changbin is sleeping in the other room (and you don't want to wake him because he had a stressful week with almost 0 sleep), you think it's time to use it. when you turn it on, you don't expect it to be this intense. your hole clenches at your clit's sensitivity and your body jolts forward. you don't mean for your moan to be this loud, really, but it rings through the apartment and wakes your boyfriend right up. upon seeing your struggle with the vibrator, he rubs his eyes and says, "my baby is too dumb to touch herself now? oh kitten, do you need master to teach you?"

hyunjin:

oh boy roommate!hyunjin will literally touch himself watching you through the crack of the bathroom door you forgot to lock. dick in hand, he watches as you touch yourself in the bathtub, losing yourself with the shower head on your clit and a hand on your hard nipples. will accidentally be too loud and call your attention. "oh, sorry, uhm..." "couldn't control yourself, huh?" "no..I-" "cut it. i want you. now." this whole endeavor leads to you becoming friends with benefits lol because you're two horny college students who can't afford their own apartments but also have a no-bringing-one-night-stands-home policy. will want to do mutual masturbation because he doesn't wanna get all wet haha

jisung:

he catches you touching yourself in his own home. you were on a trip to meet your family in your home town and your close childhood friend offered you a place to stay. for a week you couldn't touch yourself or even be alone for more than 5 minutes, and when Jisung finally leaves the house for a bit longer than just for groceries, you can finally relax without the fear he might come back soon. so you lie on the couch bed, completely naked because it's 43 degrees and god knows you've waited for this way too long. little did you know that Jisung's plans were cancelled and he drove straight back home to you playing with your clit, two fingers stretching your walls. will watch in awe for a bit before you notice him. "oh, you...that's kind of hot. Mind if I...help?" you don't mind at all. and this is how you ended up with your childhood best friend's head between your legs.

felix:

you blame felix for the suit he's worn and also for the fact that he didn't bother to take it off even when you arrived at his house and started playing video games. Needless to say: you were horny as ever. so you excused yourself to the bathroom to satisfy the ache. because felix had his headphones on and his room was on the other side of the house, you let soft moans slip off your tongue. he sure wouldn't hear, right? WRONG. he got worried after you didn't come back from the toilet for 10 minutes and decided to check on you. and oh was he happy he did that because your moans? music to his ears. "yn, no need to hide, my family won't be back until tomorrow." that's when you open the door and grab his tie for his lips to meet yours. "you stayed in this on purpose, huh? after the wedding you could've taken it off." "I know you like suits."

seungmin:

before he told you he's an idol, you'd never thought of him this way: hot, talented and highly ambitious. but the growing trust in your friendship reveals an aspect of seungmin you wouldn't have expected in your wildest dreams: tongue out, gaze dark, he's hyper-focused on his dance moves, and hell is that making a mess of your panties. at your place, eating celebration pizza after his tour-opening show, you decide to wait until he falls asleep to pound a dildo into yourself in your room. the doors are thin and the couch bed seungmin temporarily sleeps on is only so comfortable. which means that he hears you loud and clear as you whine. you have awakened his curiosity, and before he can stop himself, he walks straight toward your room. what do you look like right now? What are you thinking about? When he walks into your bedroom and accidentally stumbles, you look at him with the biggest eyes and maybe that wasn't the way he imagined the answer to the first question. (good for you that you have the blanket over though haha). "oh, this is very embaressing...in front of my idol friend, wow." "nonono don't get me wrong, I think you put on a nice show. maybe better than mine..." will fuck you in front of a mirror (with your consent ofc) because "look at you, you're performing so well only for me."

jeongin:

after him teasing you all day (being all touchy-feely, being suggestive with his words and wiggling his eyebrows way too much lol) while watching reruns of pretty little liars, he forgets his gym bag at your dorm. now, your touch starved, career oriented college student self is only so resilient. translation: you rub your clit furiously while watching twitter porn. when he arrives at the bus stop, he notices his gym bag is still at your place, and so decides to knock on the first-floor window to your bedroom. when you don't answer (because your earphones blast slapping sounds and moans + you are too far gone to notice anything at this point) he peeks through the slit between your curtains and oh my god are you hot squirming around with your hand between your legs. he's touched himself to the fantasy of you pinned to a wall too many times to count, and now he can finally make it a reality. let's just say he's not shy to ring your door bell at the ass crack of dawn to ask you about what porn gets you off so prettily to then rail you against all walls in your apartment lmao rip your roommate

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #smut #skz smut #stray kids reactions #smut fanfiction #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #chan #bang chan #felix #lee felix #seo changbin #lee minho #lee know #hyunjin #stray kids fanfiction #han jisung #jisung #seungmin #jeongin #all; #headcanons; #scenarios;

[sugurugetofavoritemonkey]

Pretty Necklace - Part 2 (Megumi x Reader)

✵ Pairing : Megumi Fushiguro x Female Reader.

✵ Summary : Megumi will protect you no matter what, and when you take care of him after he was hurt, things are getting a bit heated.

✵ Word count : 3.2k

✵ Warnings : smut, dry-humping, cum licking (male and female), fingering, handjob, intimacy (🥺), very little descriptions of harassing (don't worry yall Megumi is here), little descriptions of injuries, Megumi and reader are so soft.

✵ Note : As I said before, this chapter is almost ready since almost a month and I just finished the smut part today!

I never wrote that much so please tell me if this was good🥺

(I wasn't feeling well today and writing for him helped me a little, so thank you Megumi🥺) Maybe I will write more for him...

Chapter 1

ENJOY <3

After what happened a few days ago between you and Megumi, to your surprise, the two of you got even more closer. 

From the beginning of the day to the end of this one. 

He would walk all the way to your apartment, waiting in the cold while you got ready, his hands pushed down to the bottom of his hoodie’s pockets with his red headphones on his ears. 

When you would be finally ready, getting down the stairs one by one, he would scold you for not being quick enough, letting him alone for a too long amount of time, freezing. 

But when he saw you, freezing just as much as him, rubbing your own hands against each other to bring them more warmth, his frown would disappear instantly. 

Removing his hands from his pockets, he was getting closer to you, taking gently both of your hands between his own, much bigger than yours, making Megumi able to cup your hands perfectly in his. 

The second after, he approached his mouth to your palms, blowing on them, effectively offering them so much needed warmth. Exchanging a smile with him, Megumi then spoke to you with his lips still close to your palms. “You should start thinking about buying a pair of gloves, puppy”. 

That made you let out a light laugh when you answered quickly “I definitely won’t, if it means I can have my personal heater everyday, everywhere and a pretty one on top of that”.

Blushing for the umpteenth time since you got to meet each other, Megumi starts looking away, but you stopped him in his tracks, bringing a now warm hand to his face, making him look back at you, staring into your kind eyes. Tracing a thin line to his pinkish lips, Megumi closes the gap between the two of you before you could have the time to do it, giving you a messy kiss. 

As you separate from each other, Megumi breaks the silence, “You remember I have to go buy some food for the dogs, before we go get lunch right?”, as you nod in agreement, Megumi takes your left hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours while you start walking alongside each other to your destination, his thumb absently brushing lightly against the top of your palm every now and then.

You were currently sitting on a bench, waiting outside for Megumi to come back from the pet store, your headphones in your ears, looking at some random pictures on Pinterest to make the time pass faster. 

The air was still pretty cold but luckily your boyfriend had gave you his jacket, insisting on the fact that “I don’t want you to catch a cold, last time you did, you were literally whining all day long and I had to fight with you because you didn't want to take your medicine, not again”. 

Okay maybe you were a pain in the ass when sick, but clearly who wasn't? 

As you started to get impatient, you carelessly tapped your foot on the ground, hoping that Megumi wouldn't take too long. 

As this thought processes in your mind, a group of three men were passing by, just next to you. At first you didn’t pay any attention to them, too focused on your phone and music to even fully raise your head up. But when one of the men lay his hand on top of your shoulder, you were instantly put out of your thoughts, and more importantly, you were feeling really embarrassed. 

As you remove one of the earphones out of your ear to hear what the man wanted from you, his two other companions start to get closer to you, almost caging you. And that is at that exact moment that you started to panic. 

“Hello pretty lady, you seem alone, maybe you want some company, maybe we could help?”

As the first man, the taller one, finished his sentence, all of the others started to smile, in a way almost disturbing. They were so gross, you thought. 

Albeit the fact that your legs were wobbly, you stand up to show you weren’t going to let them harass you in any way possible. 

But the fact that they outumbered you was not in the slightest way helping you. 

They were bigger than you, stronger and scarier. 

But as you felt the hand of the taller man beginning to slide down to your collarbones, you heard a voice, his voice. 

“Remove your hand. I won’t ask again”, Megumi’s voice was so composed that the contrast between his words and his tone was almost perturbing. But you knew him oh too well to make the distinction between softness and anger. He was trying as much as possible to stay calm despite the fact that you saw, even with the distance that he was clutching his fists so hard, that his knuckles turned white.

The guy didn’t budge, instead opening his mouth to declare, “And can you tell me what will you do? I could just take her right now and you wouldn’t even mov-”

He didn’t even have the chance to finish his sentence that Megumi had taken a few steps forward and punched the man in the face, surely having enough of his vulgar words. 

Even if Megumi was stronger than you and could easily get rid of these guys, the fact that the three of them threw themselves on Megumi at the same time wasn’t going in his favor. 

Everything escalated quickly and soon enough the three men were punching Megumi hard, not without the fact that he obviously hit back with as much force, if not more. 

As they were all bloody, Megumi succeeded in making them leave, as you got closer to him to support his body, the three guys ran back from where they came from, not without a few insults and threats. Even though Megumi had always been strong, the fight didn’t go well for him either. 

His wounds weren’t deep nor bad but all the littles cuts on his face and knuckles could easily get infected, in addition to the hits he received on the head that started to make him feel dizzy. 

As you were putting his arm around your shoulder just to stabilize him, he started to puff, “I’m okay, puppy, I swear”. 

“No you aren’t Megumi, your nose is starting to bleed, your lip as well, you're gonna come home with me so that I clean your wounds, end of discussion.”

When he touched his lip to find some blood on his fingertips, he knew he wasn’t that well, he hadn’t even felt the cuts before you noticed them.  

Maybe it was because Megumi never complained. Never. It didn’t matter how hard he was hurt, he would never talk about it, even to you. Even if he trusted you with his life, he had the habit to always take care of everything himself, not wanting to bother anyone. 

Maybe it was because he thought he could handle everything himself. 

Honestly, you didn’t like that, you wanted to share everything with your boyfriend, not just the moments of joy, but also every other moment where he needed you, whether it would be your help or comfort. But you knew that maybe, with time, he would open to you entirely. You could trust him about that. 

By the time you finally arrived at your apartment, opening your front door and switching on the lights, Megumi’s face was covered in a thin layer of his own blood. You made him sit on the couch while you were heading to your bathroom, to get disinfectant, some bandage and tissues with water. 

You tried to put everything in your arms and hands without making anything fall. As you get back to the living room, Megumi’s still waiting for you calmly. 

“You don’t have to do this you know… ”, he whispers, to which you reply back.  

“I know Gumi, but I want to.” 

“It doesn’t even hurt, puppy.”

You don’t believe him at all and as you press your thumb on the cut on his eyebrow, you hear a little hiss of pain slipping from his lips. 

“Liar.”

Caught off guard, he had no other choice than to let you help him, for once.

Knowing very well that you won’t let him get away with it this time. 

Seeing that he was now more compliant, you put your recipient filled with water on the side of the couch alongside the disinfectant and keep the bandages and tissues in your hands. 

To get more comfortable to clean Megumi’s wounds, you sit on his lap, your thighs on each side of his hips. 

You drench the tissue into the water besides you and start cleaning his wounds, from top to bottom. 

The first one is the cut on his eyebrow, which you think is the deeper one, seeing that most of the blood is coming from there. 

Then you move down to his nose, making sure to be extra gentle with the way you remove the dried blood. 

You continue with his lower lip, the most delicate area to clean, you don’t even dare wipe the tissue on it, but prefer to just press on it lightly.

And to finish, the back of his hand, you don’t count but it seems that nearly all of the knuckles on his right hand are open, small cuts lingering on them. 

You don’t seem to notice, but Megumi took his time admiring you all the while you were taking care of him. His eyes focusing on you and the tender touches that you put on his body. Never in his life did someone take care of him the way you did. 

He didn’t even ask for it, but deep down, he knew that he wasn’t regretting any of it. Even when you disinfect his wounds, he doesn’t flinch a inch. Too busy being concentrated on the way your delicate hands take the time to take care of every little cut, even the one who doesn't really need affection. 

Too lost in his thoughts he didn’t even feel you putting the sticking plaster on the skin of his nose. It’s your sweet laugh that put him out of his daydream. 

“Can you tell me why you're laughing please?”, hearing his tone, you don’t know if he’s amused or upset. You opt for both. 

“Nothing, it’s just that I had no idea that the Hello Kitty’s bandage would suit you so well”, you laugh again. Truly it was a sight to behold. 

Megumi with a frown and a little Hello Kitty on his nose. 

You make a mental note to take a picture of him later.

Thinking about earlier, your tone switches to a more serious one, “Megumi…Why did you do that? I could have defended myself you know, now it’s my fault that-” He cuts you off. 

“What they had in mind was bad. And I couldn't just stand there and let them do what they wanted. Never. I know you’re far from weak but I will do everything in my power to protect you. You know that right?” 

“I know Megumi”, you spoke tenderly. 

After a few few seconds had passed as Megumi and you look into each other’s eyes, both of you being too lost in your daydream to even blink, you closes the gap between his lips and yours, almost pressing a kiss to his lips when you move your head back a little to deny him this pleasure, giggling to yourself. 

Megumi looks at you with a raised eyebrow, not finding this as funny as you do. Before you feel Megumi grabbing your jaw to pull you back closer to his lips, you hear him jokingly but annoyingly say : “Rude”. 

You don’t have the chance to reply back when his lips cover yours in a comforting warmth. He doesn’t wait to deepen the kiss by putting his injured hand behind your neck, and adding his tongue to the kiss. 

As the kiss grows more and more passionate, Megumi and you sharing your own heavy breaths, you can feel his hands trailing down your sides slowly until they reach your hips, grabbing them with force. 

Megumi starts to rock your hips on his growing bulge, trying to ease the sexual tension between you and him. When he feels that you start to lack air he removes his lips from yours to kiss at the pulsing vein on your neck, biting you from time to time to leave a reddish mark on your throat, until a few marks are lingering on your skin. Indeed, showing everyone that someone was already by your side. 

Megumi wasn’t really the possessive type, but when he remembered some images from the past encounter you had with these gross men, his primal instinct of protecting you had just come back with full force.

His hungry kisses and bites makes you crave even more his body, his touches, and without realizing it, you take the lead in the back and forth movements on his sensitive area, making it throb against your aching cunt, giving more frictions to you and Megumi. 

You don’t know how many minutes had passed with you dry-humping each other in this silence apart from the kissing sounds and both of your panting breaths but when you put your forehead against his, you can finally hear him say something under his breath. 

“I’m going to cum if you don’t stop right now”. 

“Well, is that a bad thing Megumi?”

He laughed at that, “No, not if you come for me first”. 

His reply didn’t even surprise you, Megumi was the type of person to always put the people he cared about before him, always.

Even if he needed more love in his life. Megumi clearly deserved this love and far more.

When one of his hands makes its way under your skirt and inside your panties to rub at your swollen clit, you decide to do the same with him. Lowering his jeans a little for him and taking his hard cock out of his boxers. 

When you see the feeling of surprise making its way onto the face of your boyfriend, you speak before Megumi has the chance to argue with you. 

“We can just cum together hm?”, you smile at him. 

And when he reciprocates with his own smile, you know that, for once, he’s letting himself go, just taking his time to enjoy some pleasure with you. 

He starts first to insert his fingers in your already drenched pussy, thrusting them with ease at a regular space, not too slow, not too harsh, just building your pleasure as he adds his thumb on your clit, rubbing it just how you like it. 

Following him, you tighten your palm around him, pumping him with the same rhythm he has set up for you, and occasionally pressing your thumb on his red tip, smearing the precum on it. 

While mutually touching each other, your eyes find those of Megumi, as always. Not an hour would pass without the two of you looking intensely into each other's orbs, this gesture being your own silent “I love you”.  

When the pleasure begins to be too much for you, your head previously on his, starts to lower into the crook of his neck, finding comfort in his lavender scent. 

While Megumi, on his side, puts his head on your clothed chest, your fast beating heart efficient in giving him the lullaby that he needs. 

Your movements and Megumi’s are beginning to turn faster and more erratic as you’re now chasing for your orgasms. His fingers are now hitting all the spots that you need him to and his thumb is pressing harshly on your clit, while your hand slides up and down his now wet member from his own precum, making it easier for you. 

With this position, Megumi can directly hear your whines and moans of pleasure beginning to get louder, your mouth being on his shoulder, close to his ear. 

As you feel yourself close to your climax, you can hear him mumble into your shirt, “Come with me puppy, please”. 

And even though you’re sure that it’s almost impossible for two humans to climax at the same time, you swear that you can feel yourself clutch tightly around his fingers exactly when you feel him cum on top of your still moving hand, almost like a bond linking Megumi and you.  

When the two of you have come down from your orgasms, you two wait for your own breaths to come back to normal, in a comforting silence, a little whine or two breaking it when Megumi or you still feel the after wave of the climax. 

After a few minutes, Megumi feels your heart calming down and raises his head to look at you, while slowly removing his fingers from you. And you do the same, unclasping your palm from his softening dick, putting it back into his black boxers and removing your head from his shoulder to look at him. 

There’s a moment where you’re both looking at your own right hand covered in the other’s cum, and as you look up at the same moment, there’s like a silent agreement, like you understand each other. 

As you put your hand up to your lips to lick at the cum drops on your hand, Megumi does the same and licks at the juices on his fingers, all the while not breaking the bond between your gazes. 

When you’re both finished, you hear Megumi jokingly say to you, with a raised eyebrow, “Dirty”. 

“Hey you did the same, you dork”, you laugh at him. 

“True”, he replied back, not without a little blush that only you can notice. 

After that, Megumi takes the time to hold you in his warm embrace, ghosting his fingers on your back under your shirt, sometimes pressing little kisses on your nose or in the corner of your mouth. 

But when you notice again the Hello Kitty sticking bandage on his nose, you remember that he’s the one that should get some kisses at the moment. 

You gently move out of his hug, and when he look at you with a confused expression, you just take his face into your hands, softly kissing the cut on his eyebrow, then the pink bandage on his nose, the next one being his damaged lower lip and finally you take his hand in yours to kiss each and everyone of the cuts on his knuckles, sometimes looking up at him to see his eyes following where your lips try to ease his pain. 

When you kiss the last injured finger, Megumi has his brows furrowed in tenderness, asking himself what did he do to deserve such a precious angel. 

“I hope I helped them heal faster Gumi”, you smile at him with love. 

“If it doesn't work then I don’t know what will, puppy”, he replied to you just before kissing your forehead in a protective way.

#megumi fushiguro scenario #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #megumi smut #jjk reader #jjk smut #jjk #jjk imagine #megumi imagine #megumi x you #megumi #megumi fluff #megumi scenario #megumi fushiguro imagine #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro smut #jjk scenarios #jjk fluff

[fruitcoops]

Could we please have a prequel to the praise kink fic? Because i really want to know why were Sirius and Remus not together and what did Remus send him. I really need context

I was hoping somebody would ask for this!! The aforementioned fic is here for any curious souls (18+ please) and SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for spicy texts (not exactly nudes), and smutty feelings with nothing explicit

The bus went over a bump and Sirius winced as his shins knocked against the back of the seat in front of him, connecting with the metal brace inside. “Fuck.”

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” James asked next to him. Sirius glanced down at the veritable wall of gear and empty snack bags between them, then back to James in disbelief. He shrugged, then set his headphones back over his ears. “Worth a shot.”

“Merde,” Sirius hissed as a pothole nearly took off his kneecap. He gritted his teeth and readjusted, drawing his legs closer to his chest. I want to be home, he thought, allowing himself an internal moment to whine.

He checked his phone—not even ten in the morning. It was a Saturday, so Remus would probably just be rolling out of bed, still sleepy and soft with his hair sticking up like a disgruntled cat’s. Sirius sighed heavily and stared out the window at the small town rolling past in the distance; there was little he wouldn’t give to be back with him instead of on the way to a full week of conferences.

“Why did we have to win the Cup?” he grumbled.

James lifted one side of his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like they had had much time to themselves before that, either—Sirius’ schedule was packed with interviews that felt more like interrogations, and Remus had been running the PT department mostly by himself while Moody took a well-deserved vacation. They were dead on their feet every night, worked to the bone with little energy left to do more than cuddle and fall asleep. Still, Sirius was grateful for every second of it.

He waited ten more minutes before giving in.

New Message To: Re

Bonjour mon loup <3

There was no immediate response, which made sense, though he was a little bit disappointed. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax; it would be at least another six hours before they arrived at their destination, and the bad weather gathering overhead didn’t bode well for quick travel.

His phone buzzed gently and he scrambled to answer. Don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg—

New Message From: Re

Morning love!

Thanks for the bagels <3

“Fuck yes,” Sirius said under his breath. The bagels had been a last-minute decision as he crept through the house in the early hours of the morning after carefully detaching himself from Remus with a final half-asleep farewell kiss. There was no guarantee he would remember breakfast with everything going on, so Sirius figured it was a safe bet to toast them and leave them on the countertop before heading out.

Message To: Re

Pas de problem

Sleep well?

Message From: Re

Decent

Missed you :(

Sirius rested his temple against the cold window with a soft sound. He hated leaving at different times, but that was just how their life worked at the moment.

Message To: Re

Missed you too <3

Three small dots appeared for a long moment before vanishing without a trace just as his heart rate began picking up. Where’d you go? he almost wondered aloud. Something bumped his arm and James raised a quizzical brow. “Loops,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“I figured. He okay?”

“I think so? He just…disappeared on me.” Sirius was well-aware of how plaintive he sounded—James’ teasing smile was completely unnecessary.

“Aw, Cap,” he laughed, reaching over to mess with his beanie until Sirius slapped his hand away. “It’s alright, buddy, it’s just a couple days.”

Sirius jammed his hat back on his head and flicked James on the unprotected bit of his ear, making him yelp. “Fuck off, I know you’ll be a mess as soon as Lily FaceTimes with my godson.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Sorry. You’ll be a mess as soon as she FaceTimes with Pocket Pots, who happens to be my godson.”

James rolled his eyes. “I regret giving you that title.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

As if on cue, his phone lit up again; Sirius ignored James’ snickering as he quickly unlocked it.

New Message From: Re

When will you be at the hotel?

“That’s it?” he muttered.

Message To: Re

That was a lot of typing for one sentence

6-7 hrs, if the weather holds

Why?

Message From: Re

Sorry lmao Reg came in for a bit

Just curious :) Keep me updated?

Message To: Re

Will do <3

Tell Reg he needs to wash his sheets. It’s been over a month.

A small thumbs-up emoji was his only answer, and he tried not to be too bummed. Remus liked having things to do; sitting there and texting Sirius while he slowly got further and further away was probably not his preferred way to spend a morning. With a sigh that was likely a bit too dramatic for the situation he was in, Sirius faced the window once more and buckled in for a long ride.

He chatted off and on with the others when they stopped for lunch, but everyone was exhausted from the combination of a packed week and an early morning. Even Talker stayed fairly quiet, and James kept his headphones on for most of the trip.

Sirius finally succumbed to his tiredness and put some music on, then dozed for an hour or three while they traveled through yet another field. A few halfhearted calls of “cows” made their way around the bus, though nobody seemed particularly enthused about being packed in with double the gear due to a broken storage compartment. Donuts and gas station coffee could only do so much.

“Just crossed the state border,” Arthur called from the front of the bus as Sirius tried to ignore the cramping in his thighs. Three hours. Just three more.

His music was interrupted by a soft jingle alert and he pulled his phone out, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t caused a fire anywhere. It was unlikely given the…well, everything about him, but with Sirius’ luck it could happen.

New Message From: Re

How far?

Message To: Re

About 3 hrs. Ran into some detours

Good day?

Remus remained silent on the other end and Sirius frowned. That was rather rude, and highly unusual. Between the two of them, Remus was the one who kept conversations going past the initial question to be answered.

Message From: Re

Attachment: 1 Image

Love you! Call me when you get there : )

Sirius opened the attachment and almost threw his phone in utter shock. Skin. Bare skin everywhere, its smooth edges broken up only by tight black fabric that may as well have been painted onto the curve of Remus’ ass. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, voice barely audible even to his own ears. It had been taken in their bedroom mirror; Remus looked over his shoulder, and Sirius caught the corner of a devious smirk on his lips. “Oh, you fucker.”

Message From: Re

Thoughts? They’re cozy

Message To: Re

Did you miss the part where I said three (3) hours

Message From: Re

Nope

Second one is a guessing game and u get a prize if u get it right : )

The second photograph was more zoomed-in than the first and Sirius wracked his brain, running through his mental catalogue of Remus’ body to figure out the answer. It did absolutely nothing to calm the situation in his pants.

He had no idea what the promised prize was, but anticipation made his hands shake slightly as he carefully scanned the picture. The shadows caught it at an odd angle—it wasn’t the steady slopes of his face or neck, nor was it the strong curve of a shoulder. Not enough freckles, either, he thought.

A lightbulb lit in the back of his mind.

Message To: Re

Right hip

Another thought connected half a second later.

Holy fuck you took them off

Is that my prize?

Re?

Remus Lupin I swear to god

TEXT ME BACK

Message From: Re

Bingo!

Christ you’re impatient, I was gone for like 2 mins

He chanced a look toward Pots, whose head lolled to the side as he snored.

Message To: Re

Hey quick question why are you like this

It’s a good thing Pots is out cold bc this bus is too small to hide anything

Message From: Re

Haha sux to be you

Sirius’ cheeks heated with a whole cocktail of different emotions as he furiously typed a response.

Message To: Re

‘Sux to be you’???

Are you 13 yrs old????

Message From: Re

Do you want your prize or not u horndog

Message To: Re

YOU MADE ME THIS WAY

He took a deep breath through his nose and flexed his fingers.

Yes please

A simple smiley face—Sirius would never see those things the same—popped up, followed by an audio file. He triple-checked that his headphones were plugged in before tapping ‘play’ with an unsteady thumb.

His face went very, very hot before all the blood went straight to his groin and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. Breathy sounds came through the heavy earphones, a little more crackly than they would be in-person; he heard Remus’ gasp catch in his throat and crossed his legs as best he could in the too-small seat, torn between thanking and cursing any higher power. He could practically see Remus’ face in his mind’s eye as the noises continued, intermixed with fragments of desperate words.

The file came to an end after what felt like the blink of an eye and a hundred years, and Sirius did not look away from the violently red seat cushion in front of him for a long moment as his brain came back online. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on.

He took a few deep breaths, though it did nothing to erase the poorly-muffled whines that still rang between his ears like church bells. Sirius huffed and turned to grab his waterbottle out of his duffel, only to make direct eye contact with Finn across the aisle.

Sirius froze.

Finn grinned.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, too low to wake James but just loud enough to carry over the four feet separating them. Finn’s smile widened. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“How’s Loops?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“That good, huh?”

“O’Hara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, is Cap spilling secrets?” Kasey asked, poking his head over the back of the seat.

Finn opened his mouth, but the force of Sirius’ glare must have been enough to at least intimidate him a little, because he shook his head. The smug Cheshire grin remained. “Nah, just having a chat about our plans when we get home.”

Kasey groaned. “You’re a lucky man, O’Hara. Both your people get to come with you. Nat sent me a promise, like, twenty minutes ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t be available tonight from six to eight if anyone was wondering.”

“Did she really?” Finn looked back to Sirius, who bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his cool. Two and a half hours, and then he would be safe. Just two and a half more hours.

[mosswillow]

Simple Silver - Dark!Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: You’ve been given a gift, one not many Omegas get. A bracelet that when worn by an Omega changes their scent ever so slightly. All you need to do is keep the bracelet on and he can’t find you.

Warnings: 18+ adult content, dark!, ABO (no mentions of knots, heat, or rutt.), general misogyny, noncon/dubcon, smut, vaginal fingering, oral (male receiving), violence, orgasm delay/denial, kidnapping (kinda), she spits in his face in this, possessive behavior.

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: This fic is a request from @leniram1890. Seriously, thank you so much. It’s everything I love to write and read and you just dropped it in my lap. Now that it’s done I want more…

by clicking keep reading you confirm that you are over the age of 18 and consent to reading mature content.

You’re infatuated with him. He stands tall, you guess at least six feet, and his smell; he smells like no Alpha you've ever encountered. There’s this look to him, unequivocally attractive but in a unique and confusing way that draws you in. His eyebrows lift slightly making his otherwise small and ordinary eyes the focal point of his face. He looks around the room with a focus and intensity that feels inhuman. You finger the small bracelet that holds your secret and walk behind him, your Omega instincts telling you to get close. You suddenly recognize where you are and what you’re doing. looking down to your hands, you stare horrified at the bracelet that was taken off without your noticing. you put it back on and sprint out of the building, not stopping until you’re behind the safety of your padlocked apartment door.

Your phone goes off and you answer, making up an excuse about food poisoning and promising to be in early the next day.

Your Alpha, it had to be him.

You’ve wondered what it would be like to meet your Alpha, if you would feel bad about hiding from them. You don’t feel bad, only upset with yourself for losing control. You almost gave up your whole life in one stupid moment.

The simple silver bracelet that sits on your wrist feels heavy and you look at it. It’s a chain that suppresses your true self and one that sets you free. It’s one you choose to wear because the alternative is a life looking over your shoulder; waiting for your Alpha to find and claim you. Your parents gave it to you the day you presented and it’s given you opportunities not many Omegas get. It changes your scent just enough to let you hide, giving you the ability to decide for yourself how you feel about your Alpha, to choose a life with him or to keep the life you’ve built for yourself.  

Your coworkers don’t waste time the next morning. One is already at your desk and two more walk up as you sit down.

“Ok, what did I miss?” you ask.

“Right when you left this scary looking Alpha started raging. Stark had to call in the avengers to get him to calm down.”

You act surprised, knitting your brows and leaning forward in fake interest.

“What happened?”

“Apparently He smelled his Omega but couldn’t find them.”

“Crazy.” you say, opening up your email and scrolling through.

Coworkers start dispercing and you let out a held breath. You get to work, having extra from the day before and lose yourself for several hours.

“That’s him.” whispers a voice and you look up at your coworker before following their eyes.

It’s him, your Alpha, and he’s walking straight toward you.

You try your best to stay focused on work and not give away the slight shaking of your hands as his scent hits your nose. He stops at your desk and you look up at his chest avoiding eye contact.

“What can I do for you mr…”

“Dr. Strange,” he pauses. “I’m sure you know what happened yesterday.”

“I don’t judge sir.”

He looks at you and leans on your desk.

“Ah, but you are judging. Spit it out then.”

You take your hands off of your keyboard and fold them over your chest.

“Omegas don’t have lives after they mate, I guess it doesn’t doesn’t feel fair to me.”

“What makes you think my Omega wouldn’t have a life?”

“You would let your Omega Work? Travel by themselves? Have their own bank account?”

He thrums his fingers on your desk.

“My Omega will have a good life, they need to know their place though. When I finally find them they won’t even be allowed to leave the house without permission.”

You bristle. “Well then, I’m glad you weren’t able to find them.”

He leans farther over your desk, his demeanor shifting into one of intimidation. You do everything you can not to cower back as his aggressive scent washes over you.

“You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe your Omega is hiding from you, that’s what I would do if I was an Omega.” You finally make eye contact, staring into the stormy grey abyss of his irises and he leans forward even more.

“They better not be.”

“What would you do if you found out they were?”

His fist clenches and you can’t help but push your chair back a few inches. You see Tony walking toward you from the corner of your eye and stand up, pushing your pointer finger against his forehead.

“You sir, are one of the most obnoxious people I’ve ever met, and I work for Tony Stark,” you say.

His mouth opens in surprise and he stands up.

Tony makes it to you at just the right moment. “Hey now, stop harassing my assistant. We’re not having a repeat of yesterday, thank you.”

Strange narrows his eyes at you but doesn’t say anything as he follows Tony into his office.

You walk to the back of the grocery store, picking up a pint of icecream and hurrying to pay for it. Your day was long and the only thing you can think about is a hot bath. You don’t notice him until it’s too late. His smug face takes in your slightly messy appearance as you try to pass by him.

“Dinner, I assume. Your questionable behavior before is starting to make sense.”

You stare at him unsure how to respond and he tilts his head and smirks.

“I’m insinuating, dear, that your disrespectful behavior this morning was caused by a lack of adequate nutrition.”  

You readjust your shirt and let out a huff.

“I wonder,” you pause and smile sweetly. “How much shit did you have to consume in your ‘diet’ to become such an asshole?”

You pull out a pair of earphones and stick them in your ears, turning on your heel to pay for your dinner. He grabs your arm, pulling you close and tears out your headphones with his other hand.

“I’ve never met anyone who gets under my skin so easily, why do you make me so angry?” he sneers.

“Your anger is your responsibility,” you pull away, shaking slightly and holding back tears.

You can feel his eyes watching you as you jump into a self checkout line to pay.  As soon as you reach your apartment you let the tears fall. You hate him. You hate his stupid face and egotistical personality. You hate that you react to him, that your nature makes your knees go weak when you’re around him. You hug your bracelet against your chest and let out a shaky breath. As long as the bracelet stays on you’re safe. You just need to keep it on, that’s it.

You stand in Tony’s office staring at a folder.

“Send a courier or another employee, I don’t want to do it.”

Tony raises his eyebrows in shock at your sudden and uncharacteristic outburst.

“I need someone I trust to drop them off, Is there some reason you can’t do it?”

“I just don’t get along with Dr. Strange.”

“You’re dropping off a file, not going on a date,” he quips.

You take a deep breath and remind yourself that you love your job. It’s just a quick trip, drop it off and you’re done. It’s been a week since you saw him last, he doesn’t know who you are or he would already have come for you. Just a quick drop off, that’s it.

“I’m sorry sir. You’re right, I’m being unprofessional. I can do it.”

He waves you out and you call an uber riding it to what Tony described only as “The Sanctum”.  

You walk in and look around the large entry room, searching for someone who can help. It’s eerily quiet and you walk up a huge set of stars, wandering and looking at various museum-like displays until you’re on the top floor. The room is dark, the only light coming from a large round window. A stranger walks up and looks at you with a surprised expression.

“I’m sorry, I’m looking for Dr. Strange? I’m just dropping something off from Mr. Stark.”

“Ah of course, I’m Wong.” He says holding out his hand.

You reach out and take his hand and he looks at your wrist, grabbing onto your bracelet and pulling it off.

“I haven't seen one of these in a long time.” he examines the bracelet closely.

“That’s mine, give it back please.”

“Not until you tell me why you’re hiding your designation.”

“My Alpha is a cruel man, please give it back. I need it now.” you say urgently.

“Hey, nobody will hurt you here. Who is this Alpha?”

You start shaking and reach out again trying to take the bracelet back from him.

“Wong, I… Oh no, not you again,” Stephen says from an open doorway, his face turning into a scowl.

You grab the bracelet and push it on your wrist. It’s too late though, Stephens eyes widen in recognition as your scent hits him.

You bolt. You know you won’t make it out so you pull at the first door you find, slamming it closed and locking it.

The banging starts almost immediately.  “OMEGA, OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!” he yells.

“Don’t do this, please. I don’t want this. I need more time. Don’t force me, please,” you cry.

Sparks start flying in a circle in front of your eyes and your Alpha is suddenly walking through a portal. You look around, seeing a second door and yanking it open. Something catches your leg and you’re pulled backwards by what looks like a glowing rope.

“You knew I was your Alpha the whole time.” he says, moving his body to sit on your middle.

You bite your tongue and glare at him.

“Answer me!” He yells, grabbing your arms and pushing them above you.

His face is only inches from your own and you spit without thinking. He lets go of your hands and sits back, wiping the wetness from his face before staring at his wet hand.

“This explains everything, catching your scent, the extreme annoyance at your lack of respect, the anger I felt at the thought of you not eating like you should.”

He grabs your shirt, ripping it down the middle and causing buttons to fly through the air. Goosebumps appear over your skin and you shiver from both fear and the cold. He flips you over roughly, pulling off your shirt all the way. His hand roams to your mating gland. He leans over and breathes in, kissing it gently.

“Fuck you,” you say through clenched teeth.

He stops and waits until you’re done shaking.

“Why aren’t you biting me?” you whisper.

“You said you wanted time.”

He stands, pulling you up with him and makes a circle with his finger, opening up a portal in front of you. His hand is on your back pushing you through and when you turn around you're alone in what looks like a bedroom. Immediately, you run and try the door, opening it and sprinting out. The breath is knocked out of you as someone promptly slams you into a wall. You start coughing as the pain radiates through your body, then you’re falling onto a soft bed in the same room as before. After a few minutes of coughing you stand and run again, trying the window this time and just like before you’re caught and pushed through a portal back to the same room. You keep trying until you’re completely out of places to run, until your energy, both emotional and physical, is depleted.

The moment you finally give up a portal opens on your right and Stephen walks through.

It would have been easier if he had just bitten and fucked you right away. Letting you run over and over just to squash your hope is even more cruel, like a sick joke where he is the only person privy to the punchline. You stand in the middle of the room with your eyes down and wait for the inevitable.

He walks around you slowly and with each methodical step your anxiety grows until your knees buckle and you drop to the ground, crying into your hands. He stops and crouches in front of you, putting his finger under your chin and raising it slowly until you look him in the face. He lets go and keeps eye contact as he reaches between your legs and almost too gently runs his finger over your pussy. His eyes bore into you as his hand slowly becomes more and more noticeable above your clothes.

“I hate you.” you whisper as he pushes your legs apart.

He slides his hand into your pants and continues to rub over your clit, now making quick circles. His finger dips in your heat and you whimper involuntarily. You close your eyes as the sensations start to build and when you’re about to go over the line he stops. Your eyes shoot open and he smirks.

“It’s important you understand a few things.”

You aren’t expecting it, for him to suddenly pull his hand back and slap you across the face. You’re not prepared for the force behind his hand. How it makes your entire face sting, the pain radiating down your neck and shoulder. You grasp your cheek and bite your lip to avoid crying.

“I own you.” He slides his hand down to your pussy again.

“I own your pleasure.” He slides his hand up to your breast, pushing your bra down and pinching your nipple harshly. “And your pain.”

He backs away and crosses his arms, motioning with his head at the remaining clothes on your body. You slowly rise and remove your pants and underwear, standing in front of him fully naked.

His hand roams to your neck and he holds it gently.

“Hate me all you want.”

His hand constricts slightly around your throat.

“But don’t you dare run from me.”

His hand tightens again.

“Or hide.”

He keeps his hand on your throat and pushes you back to the bed until you’re lying on your back with him above you. His other hand reaches to your legs and taps between them gently. He puts his cheek against yours when you don’t move.

“Open Omega, and don’t you dare close those legs.”

He lets go of your neck when you relax your legs, backing away and unbuckling his pants.

“You don’t even like me,” you remark.

“I didn’t like who you were pretending to be.”

He walks over so that his sizable dick sits in front of your face.

“Suck,” he commands.

You suck on the tip without complaint and he grabs the back of your head and thrusts a few times before pulling out and patting your cheek.

“A much better use for your sharp tongue.”

You bite back a retort and look away as he positions himself in between your legs and pushes himself in with one forceful thrust. You let out a whimper and reach out your arms around him in response. He grabs your shoulders and ruts into you.

“This is where you belong Omega,” he wipes a tear from your cheek, a stark contrast to the painful pace of his thrusts.

“You.” he thrusts. “Belong,” The force starts to push you up on the bed. “ To me!”

He flips you suddenly and fucks you again from behind, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. A warm hand brushes over your mating gland and you feel his breath against your back. Stars appear before your eyes as he bites, your entire body consumed with the conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure. It pushes you into an intense orgasm that leaves you shaking from the adrenaline.

“Understand?”

You nod and he slides into bed next to you and kisses between your shoulder blades. You look over at his discarded clothes, noticing the gleam of your bracelet poking out of a pocket.

“Were you serious when you said you wouldn’t let your Omega out of the house?”

“Now that you mention it, I’ve actually had a change of heart.”

He peppers kisses across your neck and back.

“You, my adventurous Omega, won’t even leave this room without me by your side.”

You try to move but he holds you close, effectively chaining you to him. You blink back a tear and shift closer to him, letting yourself relax into his arms.

“There you go, let go and accept it.”

“Never,” you say between choked sobs.

His hand roams up your body, exploring every bit.

“We’ll see.”

#dark!stephen strange #stephen strange x you #Stephen strange x reader #darkmcu #dark!marvel #alpha!stephen strange #alpha!Stephen strange x you #Dark!abo #mcu abo #doctor strange #dark! doctor strange #stephen strange

[evierena]

The Demon Brothers catching MC listening/Dancing to their songs

I know that Belphie’s song has been out for a while now, but I still wanted to write something to celebrate all seven songs were blaring on replay on my phone so, here it is. 

INTRO:

For this time around, MC (and Solomon) has somehow convinced Diavolo that in the human world, people felt more at ease with music, with songs that reflected the character of the singer and that could move their hearts.

So, to further expand this idea and to see if it could prove useful to his goal of uniting the realms, the Demon Prince entrust the task to none other than the demon brothers.

Now, with all the songs out and blaring all over the Devildom, MC had found themselves to be quite fascinated by a particular song they just couldn’t stop replaying.

And what happens when the author of said song catches MC singing and dancing along? Let’s see…

Lucifer

You were waiting for him in his study, so probably you shouldn’t have expected much privacy really.

But, in all honesty, how could you not sing along to Arcadia?

The music was alluring, and his voice was simply enticing, it compelled your body and soul to let go, to allow being embraced by Lucifer.  

So you did.

You had forgotten your headphones, so you just had your D.D.D blaring Arcadia on replay, and once the lyrics began, you started signing along, your already dancing hips gaining rhythm and sensuality as the song progressed.

And while you were having a blast, dancing and signing in Lucifer’s study to his song, he was right outside, with the door half open, staring at your figure.

He was as captivated by your dancing as you were by Arcadia.

His heart was both full of love and pride, although he would only publicly admit to the latter. Because, you already knew about the first. And that was enough for him.

In one of those twists and turns you did while dancing you finally lock gazes with the deep crimson irises of Lucifer.

But, instead of stopping all together, you were encouraged by his powerful eyes, and decided to continue signing without breaking eye contact.

Lucifer was amused to say the least, by your little show, and he started to approach you with slow, determined strides until you both were inches away from each other.

The atmosphere grew heavy with his proximity, and you found yourself lowering you tone, adapting it to a soft whisper only loud enough for his ears.

His hands found purchase in your hips, stilling your movements, and to your surprise he joined you in your quiet singing.

And like that, both enraptured, lost in each others eyes, basking in the others presence, the song ended.

Your D.D.D ran out of battery, and the study was suddenly filled with tentative silence.

Lucifer had a smirk in his lips and you were smiling, your hands traveled to his shoulders, and you reach out to him to close the final gap between his mouth and yours.

But just before sharing a kiss that promised so much more, you both were startled by a loud crashing noise somewhere in HoL, and then a series of cursing and screaming.

Let’s just say that the punishment for whoever it was that interrupted Lucifer’s and his human moment was… terrifying.

However, that night you received a visit from Lucifer.

“Why don’t you sing for me again, my dear?”

Mammon

Mammon had invited you to a night out in the casino, and for such a thing you had decided to doll yourself up a little in your room before going out.

That’s what you were doing, when Are you Ready? Started to play in your D.D.D and well, you started to dance in front of the mirror.

The song always managed to bring a big ear to ear smile to your face and it brought out your party self. You really enjoyed it.

The music was so fun and Mammon’s voice reached the best parts of your heart and soul. And the lyrics, in your opinion the lyrics were the best part, specially because you had been there when Mammon was writing them.

It just warmed your body and made you happy.

Speaking of Mammon, he was on his way to pick you up, when he noticed you door was open so he let himself in, just to found you dancing and singing to the mirror his own song.

A deep blush spread in his cheeks, his eyes not entirely comprehending that his human looked that happy, making funny faces and dancing while listening to his song.

Once you caught onto the figure behind you through the mirror, you could see that the fiery blush on your demon grew even deeper. And so did your smile.

So, in your Are you Ready? Induced state, you went for him across your room.

Mammon tried to stop you, but in all honesty, we all know he could never say no to you, not really.

So you brought him next to your still dancing body and spurge him on to do the same.

It took a few seconds for his brain to process the situation, but once he saw the true joy and affection shining in your eyes, he felt himself relax and follow your lead.

Fortunately, the song was on replay, and your speakers were connected to your D.D.D so finally, both you and Mammon fall into a semi party just dancing, jumping to the rhythm, singing along and enjoying the others movements.

Eventually, Lucifer appeared and order both of you to shut up, and in giggles, with your cheeks aching, Mammon and you sneak your way out of HoL, and once you were in his car, on the road to the casino, he put Are you Ready? Again in the speaker of the vehicle.

All the way, both of you sang to the night in the Devildom, him stealing glances at your ecstatic face, and you staring at him while signing using your D.D.D as a pretend mic.

Once you reach the casino, Mammon felt so happy and elated to have you right by his side while he gamble his money away, he actually did manage to win a small fortune.

You both were in a rush with adrenaline pumping and serotonin flooding your brains, you suddenly found yourselves back in Mammon’s room.

Where he catch your body with his, and he stared deeply into your eyes, showing off his white pearls, no glasses covering his eyes so you got lost in the beautiful, divine blue and yellow.

“I’m just crazy for you, MC”

“And I’m madly in love with you, Mammie”

Leviathan

You wanted to surprise him, ok?

It’s just, you really appreciated that he had gotten over his insecurities and power through the whole recording and making of the song. So you wanted him to know that it meant a lot for you and that you truly loved his song.

So you got a Ruri-chan cosplay from Akuzon, pretty much spending all of your savings in a really good one, made up from scratch a choreography for My Chance! And went to work

With all of this motivation you were in the planetarium, recording video after video to just make sure everything was perfect. Of course, it was not your intention to post the video, after it was ready, you were going to send it to him privately.

But, of course, when did things go exactly the way you wanted them to without complications?

Yup, pretty much NEVER.

Honestly, I couldn’t blame you either, after being dressed up, dancing for at least three hours consecutively, perfecting your moves, editing and deleting the unwanted clips, pretty much being exhausted AF, you just hit the wrong button without realizing and post it to the DevilTube channel you had with the brothers, besides sending it to Levi.

Well, good news: it went viral. Bad news: it went VIRAL.

Leviathan couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the video.

You were so, so, so cute!!! And he couldn’t understand why would you choose HIS song to make such a good video? Like, why would you want something he made (with you in mind of course, but he couldn’t for his life say that out loud without combusting) a icky otaku like him?

So, after you realized your mistake you went to his room to clarify things.

Boy, was he flustered just by seeing you. Although you weren’t wearing the cosplay anymore, he couldn’t make eye contact without blushing furiously, stutter and imagining you in all sorts of different cosplays.

When you explained that you wanted the video to be something private for just the two of you as a token of appreciation for his song, because you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, he understood and said thank you in between stutters and mumbles.

But you also said that you weren’t ashamed that everyone got to see you enjoying his song, almost as if you were bragging about him.

By the end of the day, he truly believed that you loved his song, and somehow both of you had agreed to make another video, dancing along My Chance! But as Henry and Lord of the Shadow.

“And I’ll be the one to make our cosplays!”

“Of course, Levia-chan”

 Satan

In all fairness, you hadn’t realized he was there the whole time you were in the library, trying to study but miserably failing the moment Read My Heart started to play in your earphones.

Singing softly, almost to yourself, your eyes unfocused on the textbooks in front of you, slowly rocking your head side to side, tapping your fingers as if playing the piano, you were enjoying Satan’s song.

You didn’t even felt the green eyes of the blond demon zeroed in on your form, and he wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not.

In the beginning he just followed the quiet noise because it was distracting him from his reading, until he noticed it was you, and after paying more attention to your voice he realized you were singing his song.

A faint blush spread on his cheeks, but his eyes couldn’t stray away from you unaware of your audience, you continued signing over and over again.

He felt warmth, feeling all fuzzy and giddy in the inside without showing much in the exterior, but the small, tender smile he wore in his beautiful face along with the pink in his cheeks said otherwise to anyone who looked.

Lucky for him, it was only the two of you in that moment.

So he decided to indulge himself in the adorable sight that was you, softly and inadvertently signing for him.

However, soon enough he just wanted to be closer to you, so he did.

Slowly, he approached you until he sat beside you.

That’s when you finally noticed him.

You stared at his eyes, and found a glint of amusement at your bashful reaction, but the tenderness in them and his own blush eased your nervousness.

You stopped signing, but he took one of your earphones and put it in his own ear, and then, he also started to softly sing along.

Wide eyed, heart throbbing and your soul melting at the sight of his deepening blush, you let yourself listen to his voice only occasionally adding your own.

Somehow, you ended up resting your head in his chest, and he used one arm to bring you closer, your earphone long forgotten, your ears capturing the sound of his heart in his chest and his soft singing.

After he ended one last time, you sneaked your arms around his midsection.

“It truly is a beautiful heart, Satan”

“And it’s yours, MC”

Asmodeus

On your way from RAD, you had passed by Majolish, and, through the window, caught a glimpse of the pink haired demon, dressing in what appeared to be another brand new outfit, posing in front of mirrors, being praised by a group of lesser demons.

You saw the practiced, smooth smile and postures Asmo was putting on, and couldn’t help but remember when both of you were in his room while you were trying on face masks among a bunch of other products, how carefree and relaxed he looked, how even his flashy and over the top personality had seemed to be calmed down a bit, and how he just enjoyed your presence and allowed himself to be engulfed in the comfort of the moment.

A tender smile sneak its way on your face, watching attentively as he continued on posing through the windows, and you started absentmindedly singing the lyrics of Pomade.

Not long after, Asmodeus locked gazes with you, and your heart flutter at the immense and dazzling smile he flaunted in his beautiful face.

So you continued on with your one-man audience performance.

He mantained eye contact through the mirror, and eventually he understood by reading your lips what you were saying, which brought a bashful blush spread on his cheeks that punch the air out of your lungs.

It should have been illegal to look that exquisitely magnificent. You thought it was fair since he was indeed a demon.

Finally, tired of not being right by your side as you made his own heart throb with such a gentle affection, he grab his bags filled with new products and gifts for the both of you to share, he made his way out of Majolish.

He found you waiting for him with a smile, open arms and sweet benevolence in your eyes, he almost melt instantly in your embrace.

Asmo, with a teasing smile said:

“Baby, you want my love?”

“Yes, I need your love”

Beelzebub

In the middle of the night, you and Beel had decided it was time for a snack. So now, in the kitchen, while you tried to keep as quiet as possible, you watched the gentle giant of a demon that was him, working to make the both of you a few sandwiches and some other snacks you knew he would eat the most of.

You both were sharing AkuPods, and you were in charge of the playlist for the silent raid to the fridge.

Suddenly, Hungry Six-Pack started playing. A fond smile formed on your lips, noticing that the demon himself didn’t seem to realize what was playing on his ear, so you began following the lyrics, making small movements to go along with rhythm.

You gained confidence, and a little mischievousness, so you boldly turned up the volume of your voice. Little by little, your dancing became more jumpy and louder.

Finally, while you were immersed in one of your twists and turns, you felt the warmth of a chest on your back and strong, gentle arms surrounding your dancing figure.

Giggling freely in Beel’s arms, you continued singing to your favorite song. It didn’t took you by surprise when you hear him behind you, joining your little display of talent.

Fortunately, you were able to discern the steps of someone coming over to the kitchen, and as you and your sweet demon scurried back to the safety of his room, the song kept on playing on your ears.

Once inside his room, you flopped into his bed, a wide smile on you, finally being able to see the pure adoration plastered in the orange haired demon towering above you.

“Forever?” he asked.

“Forever, Beel”

Belphegor

Late at night in your room, unable to sleep, your D.D.D screen the only source of light, you were absentmindedly reading a children’s book that you had downloaded earlier that day.

Still, dreams seemed to elude you that night, so defeated you stood up and went to your switch, to distract yourself with some doodling on your desk.

You put on your favorite soft playlist to further help you in getting sleepy.

Then Dreamscape started playing.

Firstly, your moved your head to the rhythm, then your fingers stopped holding your doodles and followed the lead, later, you started humming.

So, you let yourself be comforted by Belphie and his voice, staring through the window, unfocused on the bright Devildom moon, recalling the demon’s face and his gestures while you gave in and began singing the lyrics.

The soft music unexpectedly didn’t get you sleepy, if anything it reinvigorate you by bringing happy memories of the two of you, dissing Lucifer, sleepovers in the attic, some with Beel others not, stargazing, sleepless nights like the one you were experiencing right then just talking about dreams and their very weird, complex, simple or absurd meaning, or, of course, just basking in the others company in a comfortable silence.

Absentmindedly, you had keep on singing and what you didn’t know is that your favorite cuddle buddy was right behind your door, struggling to hide the blush on his face at hearing you sing his song, pondering on whether leave you be or demanding to sleep together.

In his own side, lost in his thoughts, he missed how your voice was approaching the door, you were also on a mission to find him to sleep by his side.

Once you both were face to face, it became obvious what had happened, so you let a small giggle leave your lips, and grabbed him by the arm, turning off the lights, forgetting the doodles in your desk and dragging him to your bed.

There, both of you snuggle closer until the maximum amount of coziness was reached. Limbs tangled between the two, Belphegor’s head ended up resting in your chest, his arms surrounding your midsection, while your hand played with his hair.

In the quietness of the atmosphere, you dared to once more humming the melody of Dreamscape, to your surprise, that earned you a tighter hug and a satisfied hum from the sleepy demon.

By the end, the only thing you could murmur, eyelids barely open and voice hardly understandable, was:

“G’night, Belphie”

As the seconds went by, you fell asleep without consciously hearing his answer, but your dreams were filled with that simple phrase and the face of the demon in your arms.

“Good night, MC”

Thanks for reading and have a peaceful week!

Here's a little playlist with all the songs and audios from Obey Me!

Atte.- Evie

Let's see if you can guess my top 3 favorites from this HC 👀

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me headcanons #leviathan x mc #lucifer x mc #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #mammon x mc #GN MC #satan x mc #asmodeus x mc #beelzebub x mc #belphegor x mc #character song