#i need a life coach in the mirror | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pucksandpower · 7 days

Text

Newsflash

Charles Leclerc x reporter!Reader

Summary: after two years as a paddock correspondent, you’re convinced that Charles Leclerc hates your guts for no apparent reason … but maybe everything is not what it seems

“Wake up, Y/N. It’s race day!”

Your colleague, Natalie, bursts into your hotel room without knocking, as usual. You groan and pull the covers over your head, not ready to face the chaos that is sure to ensue in the paddock.

“Come on, sleepyhead! We have to be at the track by seven this morning for pre-race meetings,” Natalie says, yanking the duvet off you.

“Alright, alright, I’m up!” You grumble, slowly swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “What time is it anyway?”

“5:30. Which reminds me, I need coffee,” Natalie says, already headed for the door. “Meet me in the lobby in 20!”

You spend the next 19 minutes hastily getting ready — putting on minimal makeup, throwing on your favorite jumpsuit, and frantically gathering up notes and gear for the day. You take one last glance in the mirror, trying to smooth down your bedhead, before resigning to just throw a cap on over the mess.

Hustling down to the lobby, there’s a rush of personnel all around — mechanics, engineers, PR reps, and media darting about with coffees and laptops and headsets already in place. You spot Natalie nursing a large black coffee and beeline over.

“Ready to do this?” She asks with a grin.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply with a shrug. The truth is, the nerves are already bubbling up in your stomach. You love your job as an F1 reporter for Sky Sports, but the pressure and scrutiny is immense.

The two of you pile into a car with the rest of the broadcast crew and head to the track. On the ride, you glance over your meticulous notes on the teams and drivers one more time, paying special attention to Ferrari.

Ever since you started covering F1 two years ago, one driver has basically refused to give you the time of day — Charles Leclerc.

For some reason, whenever you are around, he bolts in the opposite direction. When you have attempted interviews, he literally turns and speedwalks away without a word. Other drivers will chat with you, joke around, and give thoughtful answers to questions.

But Charles? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

You can’t figure out why he hates you so much. You’ve scoured your past comments and coverage looking for anything that could have offended him, but come up empty.

Is it something personal against you? Were you mean to him in a past life or something? It hurts, to be honest. You try to stay professional, but his obvious disdain for you still stings.

Sighing, you put your notes away as the car pulls into the paddock. It’s going to be a long day.

After hair, makeup, mic checks, and a final meeting, it’s nearly time for the broadcast to go live as cars start lining up on the grid. Nerves buzzing, you watch Charles warm up with his performance coach across the pit lane, headphones in and clearly in the zone. As always, he walks right past you without a flicker of acknowledgment.

Your heart twinges, but you swiftly push the hurt aside. It’s showtime.

The next few hours are a blur of rushed interviews, sound bites, stats flashing across screens, and organized chaos. After the race finally ends, there are more interviews, podium ceremonies, and press conferences to wade through before you can take a breath.

“Man, that was brutal!” Natalie huffs as the two of you finally plop down in chairs in the media room later that afternoon. She cracks open a Red Bull and takes a long drink. “You hanging in there?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply half-heartedly. The truth is, you’re drained — physically and mentally. And of course, the interaction with Charles, or lack thereof, is weighing heavy.

“Why do you let that pompous twerp get under your skin so much?” Natalie says with a frown, seeming to read your mind. “He’s a rude, stuck up jerk who isn’t worth the energy. Forget about him.”

You shake your head with a sigh. “You’re right, you’re right. I just … I don’t know, I never did anything to the guy, and it still stings.”

Just then, the door to the media room swings open, and Charles himself strides in. You inadvertently tense up as he approaches the couch, looking calm and confident in his usual Ferrari polo, and folds himself down between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, who rounded out the rest of the podium.

Here we go again, you think with an internal eye roll. Just gotta get this over with.

“Hello,” Charles says with an easy grin as he settles into his seat, “What have you got for us today?” Various reporters immediately start firing off questions, undoubtedly looking to get a headline from the race winner.

You gather your courage, take a breath, and call out “Charles, Y/N with Sky Sports here. Can you walk me through your thought process behind that daring pass on Lando in Turn 12?”

To your shock, the second Charles hears your voice, his whole demeanor shifts. He seems to freeze, shoulders hunching slightly, grin dropping from his face as his cheeks instantly flush deep red. He looks panicked almost, eyes darting around the room, before landing briefly on you.

“Uhh … b-bathroom. Need to go. Bye.”

And with that, he leaps up from the couch and practically sprints out of the room.

A stunned silence falls over the space as everyone stares, stunned, at the empty space he left. You feel your stomach drop through the floor, tears of embarrassment and humiliation prickling at your eyes.

What did you do wrong? Now he’s made a total spectacle, running away from you in front of your peers. Mortified, you shakily stand up, chair clanging backwards, and rush from the room as well. Needing air, you bolt outside until you find a secluded spot out back of the paddock, leaning against a wall as the tears flow freely.

“Hey, hey … what’s going on? Are you okay?”

The soft, concerned male voice startles you, and you gasp looking up. There stands Charles, looking alarmed and guilty.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that. Please don’t cry!” He moves closer, though still keeps his distance.

You blink rapidly, beyond confused. “What … what are you doing out here? I’m clearly the last person you want to be around.”

He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is really hard for me to admit but … I like you. As in, I have the biggest crush on you. That’s why I get so flustered and basically black out anytime you talk to me. It’s pathetic, I know.”

Your jaw actually drops open in disbelief. “You … what? You like me? Is this a joke?”

“No! No, I swear, it’s the truth,” he says, face turning red again. “I know I come across like a total jerk, I just freeze up around you because honestly? You’re just so stunning and brilliant, and I get unbelievably shy and nervous. The words won’t come out. It’s like an out of body experience! I chicken out and run away like an idiot every time.”

You stare at him, trying to process this. All this time, all the hurt and embarrassment … it was just because he developed a crush?

“I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I know it must seem like I despise you. The truth is, you make me feel like a stuttering teenager with my first crush again,” Charles continues, looking at you beseechingly. “I understand if you think I’m a total tool, and I have a lot of work to do to make this up to you. But I swear, I really do like you, Y/N.”

At this, his face splits into a sheepish grin, eyes twinkling with mirth. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest as relief washes over you.

He doesn’t hate you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! You appraise him, really looking at him for the first time. From his twinkling green eyes to his adorable dimples to the lock of chestnut hair falling across his forehead, he’s unbelievably charming.

You shake your head, smile growing. “So this whole time, you’ve just been acting like an awkward schoolboy instead of giving me any indication of your true feelings?”

Charles laughs self-consciously. “Embarrassing, I know. Look, I promise I’ll do better-”

“Yeah, you’ve got a lot to make up for,” you say, crossing your arms and giving Charles a playful but pointed look. “All the grief and heartache you’ve put me through the last two years? This calls for serious groveling, mister.”

Charles immediately drops to one knee dramatically. “Y/N Y/L/N, light of my life, apple of my eye. I am but a humble driver, unworthy of your affection. But if you would do me the extraordinary honor of allowing me to court you properly, I vow to spend every day showing you how enchanted I am by your wit, your beauty, and your strength.”

You can’t help but giggle at his over-the-top chivalrous display. “Oh get up, you goofball!” You grab his hand and pull him back to his feet. “I’m just teasing. Well, partially teasing. I do expect you to apologize to me properly. Take me to dinner or something.”

Charles visibly brightens. “Dinner? Really? Yes, absolutely! In fact, let me take you right now. We’ll go to that little trattoria down the road. You deserve to be wined and dined for putting up with me.”

You consider this for a moment, taking in his eager, handsome face. The truth is, despite his past behavior, you find yourself captivated by Charles now that you understand what was really going on. His confidence, talent, and intensity are wildly attractive. And the way he’s looking at you now, with softness and admiration in his eyes .... it sends tingles down your spine.

“Alright, lead the way, hot shot,” you say with a wink.

Charles’ grin stretches even wider, if possible. “After you,” he gestures forward with a flourish, then falls into step beside you as you head towards the exit.

“I really am sorry for being such an idiot around you,” Charles says quietly after a moment of walking in comfortable silence. “The way I’ve acted was totally unacceptable. You deserve so much better.”

You glance over at his earnest expression and feel a little pang in your chest. “It’s okay, really. I get it now. Just think how close we could have been this whole time though if you’d just … I don’t know, talked to me like a normal human being!”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Oof, so true. Honestly, I’m impressed you didn’t write me off ages ago as a complete lost cause. Clearly you’re far more patient and forgiving than I deserve.”

“Yes, I really am,” you agree teasingly, giving his arm a playful shove. You both laugh as you reach the paddock exit and emerge out onto the bustling street, taking in the energy of the crowd.

You jokingly elbow Charles’ side. “Still though, as dashingly handsome as you may be, don’t think you’re completely off the hook! I expect to be wooed and romanced properly going forward. No more running off scared like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“It’s a deal,” Charles says easily, looking thrilled. “Romance and wooing, coming right up.”

Reaching the charming little restaurant, Charles opens the door for you with a sweeping bow. You grin and step inside. Somehow, you have the feeling this is going to be the start of a wonderful evening.

No more misunderstandings. Just the two of you, getting to know each other properly over a delicious meal with the slight chill of the evening settling in around you.

And you can’t wait.

***

The next few race weekends are a whirlwind as Charles seems to do a complete 180 in his behavior towards you.

Gone is the shy, nervous wreck who could barely look you in the eye. Instead, he goes full-steam in the opposite direction, seeking you out constantly and showering you with attention.

It starts the following week after Friday practice. You’re standing in the paddock scribbling notes when you sense someone approaching. Looking up, you see Charles striding over, helmet in hand, usual calm confidence exuding from him.

“Ah, Y/N, just the reporter I was looking for,” he says with a warm grin, sidling up beside you. “Walk with me?”

Flustered by his forwardness but flattered, you quickly nod. “Uh, sure!”

Charles immediately links his arm casually through yours and starts leading you away down the paddock, journalists and crew members glancing over with raised eyebrows. You catch Natalie’s eye and she mouths “WTF?” at you with a stunned look. You just give a tiny shrug, feeling your face heat up.

“So tell me, what did you think of my lap times today?” Charles asks once you’re a few paces away from the crowd.

You blink, surprised he’s looking for actual feedback. You decide to give an honest assessment. “Well, I think you were sliding the rear end quite a bit too much through Sector 2 and losing time. The car didn’t look fully settled-”

“Brilliant analysis as always, Y/N. I knew I could count on you to give it to me straight,” Charles interrupts with a respectful nod. You feel yourself preen slightly at his praise. “Some changes to differential settings should sort that out, I think.”

He then launches into a surprisingly technical explanation of his plans to adjust the setup. You find yourself nodding along, captivated, as he outlines the various weight transfer issues and how he aims to mitigate them.

He’s speaking to you like a true engineer, not just a reporter. You realize with a jolt that he’s never gone into this level of detail with you before in any interviews.

“Sorry, I’m rambling a bit here, aren’t I?” Charles says sheepishly when he pauses. “I don’t want to bore you with too much technical detail. But you just have such a good eye and ask such insightful questions, I find myself wanting to really dive into this side of racing with you.”

He gives your arm a soft squeeze. “Anyway, let me know if you have any other observations or advice. I trust your analysis completely.”

Before you can properly respond, the two of you round a corner only to nearly walk directly into Sergio Perez, who’s heading the opposite direction. He does a comical double take at seeing the two of you arm-in-arm together.

“Ah, hello Checo!” Charles says breezily, not releasing you or missing a beat. Sergio looks hilariously confused.

“Uh … hello?” is all he manages before Charles is steering you onwards.

“See you around, mate,” he tosses over his shoulder with a wink.

You glance back to see Sergio frozen in place, staring after you both looking utterly bewildered.

The weekend continues in this vein, with Charles constantly pulling you aside to chat at length about setups, strategies, even asking your opinion on development directions for next year’s car.

He treats you with the utmost seriousness and respect, like you’re one of his most trusted advisors. It’s shocking and flattering after the cold-shoulder treatment for so long.

Whenever the broadcast crew has a break, Charles inevitably finds you and whisks you off to look at telemetry data together (which sends a poor PR officer chasing after the two of you with an NDA after the first time Charles decides to pull you into the garage) or watch video, going into painstaking detail to get your thoughts.

By Sunday, it’s become a bit of a running joke among the team, with people exchanging amused glances whenever Charles appears to disappear with you once again.

“There goes Loverboy Sharl, dragging poor Y/N off yet again to pore over spreadsheets and onboard footage,” Natalie jokes with an eye roll during a break, making the crew laugh. “How does that man ever find time to, you know, actually race?”

You shoot her a heatless glare, though you have to admit — as sweet as it is having Charles’ undivided attention, as a reporter the over-accessibility is becoming a touch much.

When the race concludes later that afternoon, Charles immediately finds you amid the chaos of the media scrum.

“Y/N!” He beams down at you, still sweaty and in his racing suit with the top half unzipped. “Come take a look at the race data with me? I want to walk through my lap times and tire deg, see if we can spot any areas to improve ...”

“Actually, I’m sort of totally swamped right now,” you gesture at the sea of people around you. “But maybe later?”

His face falls slightly. “Oh. Well I suppose I did already monopolize a lot of your time this weekend. No rest for the media?”

He gives you a lopsided smile but there’s a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You feel a little stab of guilt.

“Tell you what though,” he continues, brightening again. “Come find me later before we fly out. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”

“A surprise?” You ask with a raised brow. “What does that mean?”

“Ah ah ah, no hints!” Charles laughs, wagging a finger. “Just trust me. Don’t leave without seeing me first, okay?”

With that, he leans in and unexpectedly gives you a swift peck on the cheek. You freeze, eyes going wide, feeling your face flame. Pulling back, Charles winks cheekily at you before turning and sauntering off.

Dazed, you lift a hand to touch the spot he kissed, feeling the heat radiating from your cheek. Did he really just … right out in the open like that … with the cameras recording live?

Glancing around, you see Natalie and a few other crew members staring with mouths agape. Toto Wolff is even giving you an amused look as he walks past, one eyebrow arched knowingly. Utterly mortified, you duck your head down and hurry off to find a quiet corner to collect yourself.

The next race sees the flirting and PDA ramp up even higher. Charles can’t seem to resist finding any excuse to drape an arm around your waist, stroke your arm, or playfully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Every interaction has an undercurrent of flirtation and innuendo. And the cheek kisses become almost routine, pressed on you in front of other drivers, team bosses, cameramen, you name it.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” You finally say in flustered exasperation after he ambushes you with a very public, lingering kiss on the cheek in the paddock one day. You struggle to sound annoyed, but a pleased grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you say it.

“Sorry, ma chérie, I just can’t seem to resist around you,” Charles replies, absolutely zero shame in his voice or demeanor. “You’re lucky I have more self-control than to start making out right here in front of everyone!”

You gasp and slap his arm, scandalized, as he just throws his head back and laughs heartily.

Meanwhile, the double-takes and stunned looks from everyone around just keep coming. Even the normally straight-faced Fred Vasseur can’t seem to hold back smug grins whenever he sees the two of you getting cozy.

“Go on and get a room already, you two!” He finally chuckles one day as Charles passes by in the paddock with his usual arm draped around your waist.

“Don’t tempt me!” Charles quips back without missing a beat, giving you a roguish wink.

Soon, literally everyone in the paddock and broadcast team is aware of and commenting on the developing romance between you and Charles.

He makes no attempt to hide it whatsoever.

“Honestly, I think they’re the most nauseatingly adorable couple I’ve ever seen,” Jenson Button jokes to the rest of the broadcast team one evening as they all watch Charles throw his arm around you yet again and plant a smacking kiss on your temple.

“The honeymoon phase never ends with those two,” Natalie agrees in a wry tone, rolling her eyes. “It’s like they’re a pair of horny teenagers making out behind the bleachers.”

You just shake your head with a bashful smile and accept the good-natured ribbing. The truth is, despite Charles’ very public displays of affection causing some embarrassment and teasing from your colleagues, you find it hard to truly mind.

There’s an earnestness and joy in his demeanor whenever he’s with you that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him so openly happy and carefree as these past few weeks. Gone is the tightly wound, intense competitor. In his place is a warm, playful soul who can’t help but let his delight in your company shine through.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find his romantic attentions flattering and thrilling. The way his gaze smolders when his eyes meet yours, the tingle of electricity you feel whenever his hand brushes yours, the butterflies that erupt in your stomach when his lips graze your cheek — it all makes you deliriously giddy, like a lovesick teenager yourself.

So you endure the good-natured eye rolls from Natalie and jokes from the broadcast crew with an easy smile. Because the truth is, you’ve realized how deeply you’ve fallen for Charles in return.

“You’ve got me utterly love drunk, you charming fool,” you murmur against his chest one evening.

The two of you are tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles’ back against the wall with his arms wrapped around you as you stand embraced, soaking in a few stolen moments of intimacy together.

“The feeling is mutual,” Charles replies easily, resting his chin on your head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this madness.” He pauses, absentmindedly stroking your back. “Honestly, I half expected you to get sick of me hanging around all the time by now.”

You pull back to meet his warm green eyes. “Are you kidding? I love having you around. I still have to pinch myself that you actually want to be with me after the way you treated me for so long!”

A flicker of regret passes across Charles’ features. “I truly am sorry for being such an ass before, Y/N. I hope with time you can forgive me.”

“Already forgiven,” you assure him softly. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Relief blossoms on his face and he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Thank you, ma belle. For being the most patient and kind woman on earth.”

You grin, eyes fluttering closed as his breath tickles your skin. “Mmm, I wouldn’t go that far. But I guess I do possess some super-human tolerance for broody and aloof superstar drivers with commitment issues.”

Charles chuckles at that and you can feel the rumble of it against your body. “Lucky for me then, or I would still be utterly lost.”

His mouth finds yours then, soft and intoxicating. You melt into the kiss, savoring his warmth, his scent, the gentle stroke of his fingertips along your jaw. All semblance of poise escapes you when you’re pressed against Charles like this. He never fails to make your head spin and body thrum with want.

A polite cough from nearby causes you to break apart abruptly. You blink, dazed, to see Natalie standing with an eyebrow arched sky high.

“Hey lovebirds,” she says in a wry tone. “Sorry to disturb the sunset groping, but they’re calling for final broadcast checks in 10.”

Face flaming, you duck your head and extract yourself from Charles’ embrace. He just shoots Natalie a cheeky grin, entirely unabashed.

“Better get going then,” Charles says cheerfully, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Wouldn’t want you to be late because of me … again.” He winks.

Natalie rolls her eyes hard. “Oh I’m sure that would be a first. See you in 10, Y/N.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the pits. You glance up at Charles shyly.

“I should … uh ...” You gesture vaguely.

“Yes, yes of course,” Charles says, squeezing your hands affectionately. “Work calls. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting around the next corner to steal more kisses as soon as you’re free.”

You laugh and give him a playful shove. “Go on then, you impossible man! I’ll see you in a bit.”

Heart fluttering, you watch him saunter off before heading for the pits yourself, still feeling delightfully dazed.

This is really your life now. Surrounded by racing, the thrill of competition, the roar of engines … and consumed by budding love every time Charles Leclerc is near.

As far as dream jobs go, you think with a lovestruck smile, you’ve really hit the jackpot.

1K notes · View notes

ja3yun · 3 months

Text

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.1

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: heavily suggestive, kissing, perv!hoon, mentions of self doubt and overthinking, yn's mum is an asshole, anything else lmk! ch.1 synopsis: when circumstances unexpectedly bring you and your brother's long-time ice skating rival, park sunghoon, together, you discover a surprising connection. However, your brother forbids any relationship between you. Will you heed his advice or follow your heart? wc: 14.3k masterlist | next a/n: hi! first chapter is finally here and i hope you all like it. each chapter will be released on friday and roughly between 10k - 16k (since people wanted longer chapters, however, i am open to any feedback regarding lengths). enjoy and please leave any comments/likes/reblogs if you wish !! also, peep the new header

‘We’re dancing, dancing, dancing in the moonlight.'

The blaring of your alarm pulls you from the cocoon of sleep, and you groan into your pillow. The idea of getting up before 6 am feels like a crime, yet here you are, abruptly awakened at 4:30 am by the dulcet tones of TO1.

With a begrudging sigh, you reach for your phone, dismissing the alarm, and then collapse back, staring at the ceiling. This routine has been a part of your life since childhood, and you'd think you'd be accustomed to it by now. However, no matter how early you sleep, removing yourself from the warmth of your bed remains a daily struggle.

You can hear your brother and mum scooting around downstairs, their usual ‘Do you have everything?’, ‘Where are the car keys?’, ‘Get your sister’ conversations louder than they need to be at this time in the day. The last one does mean you better get a move on and go downstairs.

While you put on your peach-flavoured chapstick, your brother bursts into your room, “Hurry up, Y/N.” His eyes roll and he slams the door shut as quickly as he opens it.

You have had the same routine since you were 6 years old. Same exchanges, same panic, same everything.

Minhee, your older brother, is the reason you have this same routine. When he was 6 years old, Mum took you and him ice skating for the first time and he was a natural. His feet took to the ice like fish to water, like chocolate to strawberries, like you to garlic bread. It was fated. By 7 years old he was already training and what was once a fun hobby turned into a gruelling regime of early rises and the need for a good winter jacket.

“2 minutes!” You shout down to them, one quick glance over in the mirror to make sure you look presentable.

Running down the stairs you’re greeted by your impatient mum tapping her foot, “Come on, Y/N we really can’t be late today. Coach Kim needs us there as soon as possible. Big announcement.” Her hands are flapping around animated as she speaks, “I think he’s finally going to let Minhee try that quadruple axel we’ve been begging him to let him do for Nationals!”

Your brother looks disinterested, “Mum, he’s already said it’s out of my depth.” His tone is bitter.

Minhee was amazing at ice skating, winning so many medals your mum had you move out of your double room to the box one so she could display them all. By 10 he was the youngest ever in your city to reach state championships and by 14 he was competing at the National level. It did make him the golden, silver, and bronze child in your family, but you didn’t mind all that much - not that you would tell her it did.

It’s not like you’re doing anything half as impressive as winning trophies, now that was what your mother truly found pride in. You could become a CEO or a lawyer but if you couldn’t hit a toe loop worthy of gold it wouldn’t impress her.

You did try skating when you were younger but it was like you turned into Bambi, never able to find your feet. Even when it snows in winter you can’t hold yourself up. Deep down your mum hoped you would be just like Minhee, creating an opportunity for you both to branch into pair figure skating like the Shib Sibs but no matter how many times Minhee tried to teach you or she got his coach to give you a few free pointers, you couldn’t do it. She’s disappointed and quite frankly you think she holds a grudge against you for not being anything like your amazing, spectacular, talented brother.

But you still loved to watch the sport, how efficiently and painlessly each skater would glide across the ice and do manoeuvres that defied gravity. It was a magical sport, so when your mum dragged you along to every practice because she couldn’t afford a babysitter, you didn’t mind all that much.

Tying up your final lace you stand up from the bottom step and Minhee passes you your black jacket with faux fur lining. You mutter a quick ‘thanks’ before grabbing your book bag and all three of you head to the car.

"What if it's the Olympics!" Squealing, your mother fastens her seatbelt. What if it was the Olympics? Despite consistently finishing in the top three, if not first, in most major competitions in his teenage years, his coach never selected him for the Youth Olympic Games. But now that he’s 20 years old, he could compete in the Olympics.

Your brother looks sideways at your mother and widens his eyes, "You think so?" It was his dream to make it to the Olympics, and even if he didn't win, he wanted to experience everything; the different country, being surrounded by the best of the best - he had been planning his routine for it forever.

There is a little envious man who climbs up on your shoulder from time to time when conversations like this happen. Of course, you would be so happy for Minhee, after all, he works harder than anyone you know but you wish it was you. Not necessarily the skating part, but to be so good at something you have a goal and dreams that take you to the top. Just something to make you feel alive.

You’re in your 2nd year of University studying Events and Marketing after your mum said it would be good for you to learn how to pitch reasons why Minhee would be a great brand ambassador. So you did it to please her. Honestly, you actually do enjoy it, you won’t lie about that, but the lack of appreciation for your efforts goes unnoticed 99% of the time. The 1% was when you got to shadow a boss at a Nike headquarters branch a few cities over.

“Get a good word in for Minhee while you’re there!”

She was proud of you that day.

As the car rolls up to the rink’s parking lot your mother turns serious, “If this is about choosing you for the Olympics, Min, you need to act excited and unexpectant, they may be filming a behind-the-scenes documentary on your journey to a gold medal.”

Image. Your mum was big on keeping Minhee’s reputation on brand. Right now his ‘brand’ is being humble and noble.

“Yes mum,” he salutes, “Smile and flutter.” Winking and smirking as he mocks his usual signature poses causes you to laugh but your mum finds nothing funny and her change in aura scares both of you out of the car.

_____

The usually quiet ice rink is filled with chatter and chaos, with over 20 people speaking over each other. Minhee looks down at you and you shrug. None of you had any clue what was going on but if your years of watching Detective Conan paid off you would say that whatever caused this commotion was the reason the coach asked Minhee to come in as quickly as possible.

Customarily, at this time in the morning, it’s Minhee’s solo practice hours to work on his routine for Nationals so this many people here is concerning.

“Listen!” Coach Kim’s voice bellowed around the arena putting the chattering to a halt, “I know this is untimely and inconvenient, trust me, it is for me too,” Your eyes follow his and see another coach standing about 2 meters from him, “But we need to make this work and to do that I need you to listen to me.”

As your family approaches the disarray, Coach Kim beckons you all forward. Minhee is the first to ask the all too important question, “What’s going on, Coach?” The people behind you scatter and begrudgingly tread out of the building, their faces glum and disgruntled.

“Minhee, Ms. Kang, Y/N,” Coach Kim greets you all, “Sorry about all that, although telling them was a lot less scary than you.”

“What? Is this place shutting down?” Minhee jokes but by the look on Coach Kim’s face he isn’t far off.

“Not exactly.” Scratching his neck, Coach Kim looks everywhere but Minhee’s eyes, “You know the Albion Centre? The rink on the other side of town?” All three of you nod despite that he’s only talking to your brother, “Well the council had a little meeting last week and they’re turning it fully into a Hockey training centre.”

The words sit in the air as he hopes Minhee will come to the conclusion himself, “So what? Just means more time for skating here right? If all the Hockey team are going over there?”

Sighing, the coach nods, “For sure, but it also means every skater from there will be, well, here.” He gestures around and then points half-heartedly at the other Coach who is stepping forward.

“Kang Minhee, it’s great to meet you properly, I’ve heard nothing but great things,” he extends his hand which your brother accepts, still dazed from the information, “I’m Coach Lee.”

“Wait so, EVERY skater in the town will be here? in Belmore? Coach Kim, that's not possible, my training time will be cut!” Minhee is sulking but you don’t blame him. This is a fucked up situation.

Coach Lee answers, “Not true, Minhee, with the Hockey team over at Albion it frees up some ice time, you’ll get to train more if you want to.”

“And! No more shield guards around the rink, you always hated those!” Coach Kim smiles and playfully punches his chest.

There is something the Coaches aren’t telling him. Like they’re presenting him with all the benefits before hitting him with a bombshell. You know it and for sure your mother knows it. She has been eerily quiet throughout the whole exchange, if there is one thing more unsettling than her shouting, it’s her silence.

“Albion, huh?” She steps forward and tapers her eyes, “Isn’t that the rink where the Parks are located? And aren’t you Lee Jaeho? The coach of that snake ‘Ice Prince’?”

Tension spreads around everyone’s shoulders, the Coaches can’t look at her, and none of you move.

A loud click echoes throughout the rink as someone walks through the door.

“Coach what the fuck?” The voice booms behind you, “Why did I have to drive almost an hour to come here, why couldn’t we just meet at Albi?”

Park Sunghoon.

What’s that saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear? His mother shuffles in behind him, vocalising her own distaste for being here as if it were the most inconvenient thing in the world. Little do they know…

It’s like the world stops when Sunghoon and Minhee see each other and not in a rom-com way, “What the fuck is HE doing here?” Sunghoon points to Minhee, not taking his eyes off him.

“This is MY rink, Park.”

Sunghoon and Minhee have been competitors since they were 9 years old. Each of them competes against one another in every competition, always striving for first place. It began as healthy competition, and they were even friends at one point, but as they grew older and each mother became increasingly determined to claim their kid was superior to the others, a rivalry developed. If one of them did something, the other had to outdo it tenfold.

When Minhee learned how to do a double axel, Sunghoon learned a triple. When Sunghoon landed his Euler jumps, Minhee was landing an Euler but following it up with a Salchow. When Minhee won the Junior Silver Medal in 2015, Sunghoon won the Junior Gold Medal in 2016.

It was always like this.

Their similarities didn’t help either, both 20, towering at 6”0, and blessed with faces that effortlessly drew admiring glances from girls. Objectively, you’ve only really seen the attraction to Sunghoon given that Minhee is your brother, however, you're not blind to the bevvy of girls who gravitate towards him either. This is precisely why your mother insisted on Minhee maintaining his brand, which stood in stark contrast to Sunghoon's.

He wasn’t rude or stuck up, actually from what you’ve perceived from afar, he is kind and gentle. But unlike your brother's ‘humble’ persona, Sunghoon knows he’s good and will tell anyone about it. Sunghoon’s confidence is easily mistaken for haughtiness. He can come across as arrogant and cocky, just like those sports journalists have been branding him for years like he thinks he’s better than anyone else past and present.

Having been to every competition Minhee has skated in has led you to know a few things about Park Sunghoon. He was arguably the best skater in the division, even over Minhee, he was determined, hard-working, resilient, and fit as fuck.

To say you used to have a crush on him would be the understatement of the century, matter of fact it was so obvious back then that your mum would often reprimand you for staring at him too long. He was your first crush, you were 8 and he was 9, and like some girls that age you planned out a wedding, a future of 2 dogs and you’d both live in a pink palace. At first, it was his looks, no one in your primary school looked that pretty or even shone a torch compared to him. It was like seeing an angel for the first time. But then you started to grow up, and while still appreciating his face, you focused on how beautifully he skated and how majestic he moved. He was so passionate about the sport it made you feel butterflies, you hadn’t seen love like that before. Sunghoon and the rink were fated to be together.

“Sunghoon, calm down.” His coach whispered, “We need to tell you something-”

“I am NOT sharing my rink with that fucking z-list prick, alright?” Minhee didn’t hold back, he got that anger from your mother.

Turning to his coach, Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, “What does he mean sharing?”

Both Coaches exhaled. You can’t imagine how many times they have had to explain this situation, they probably should have just sent out an email. So as Coach Lee takes Sunghoon and his mum to the side, Coach Kim is looking at Minhee apologetically, “I’m sorry, Minhee. I know he’s your biggest competition, and trust me, I don’t exactly love this outcome either,” rubbing a hand down his exhausted face he whispers, “but work with me here. I’ve scheduled you guys at different times, you won’t even need to see him.”

“That’s not the point, Coach, you know how I feel about him.”

If it wasn’t for your mum you seriously ponder whether Minhee would have such a strong hatred for the fellow ice skater, and as you look at Sunghoon you wonder the same thing.

“I know trust me, you and your mother make that perfectly clear every time we cross them at comps, but you just gotta live with it, son.”

The coaches come back together and look at both of their young prodigies, “Minhee you’ll train morning, and Sunghoon you’ll train nights. Because of the merger of rinks, we have an excessive number of skaters, so we are making it a 24-hour arena but ONLY for you two and Wonyoung since Nationals are coming up.” Both coaches nodded their heads as if agreeing with themselves that this was a good choice, “So if you happen to turn up at the same time, you respect each others’ space and behave like grown men. Got it?”

Grumbling, your brother rolls his eyes, and Sunghoon nods. This is going to be a disaster.

Just as you think all bickering would be over, the mothers start chasing after the coaches as they head into the office. You felt bad for the trainers having to deal with this and getting blamed for it all, but most importantly, you feel sorry for them because they have to listen to both your mum and Mrs. Park for at least an hour.

Once the door to their office shut, it was silent, the only noise coming from the large ACs.

Scared to look any of them in the eye you place a hand on Minhee’s arm, “Come on, you need to practice.”

“Emphasis on the ‘need’.” Sunghoon pipes up and you wish he hadn’t. You were a fool to think this parting would be civil.

Minhee pokes his tongue in his cheek and looks at his rival, “You got something to say?” He’s challenging Sunghoon, baiting him to start something, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge, “Better watch my skate doesn’t somehow come flying off and slit you open.” Minhee was all bark and no bite, you knew this, but he seems deadly serious right now.

“Is that a threat?” Sunghoon stands tall against Minhee.

“It’s a fucking promise, Park.”

No one says anything else, they don’t have to, the look in their eyes is scary as they stand toe to toe with one another. “Let’s go, Mini.” You squeak out his nickname. By no means are you a timid person but you don’t want to interject and suddenly find yourself in the firing line.

With a grunt, your brother obeys and storms out and into the changing rooms, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.

His stern eyes flicker to your soft ones, it’s been a while since you’ve been this close to him, close enough to admire him. His black hair is fluffy and unstyled unlike how it is usually when you see him at competitions, the bags under his eyes prove how hard he’s working whether at skating or general life and the freckles that are perfectly placed on his face suddenly look more ethereal than before. Sunghoon is the epitome of beauty.

While you’re staring you fail to notice how he is staring right back at you, taking in all your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory. He hasn’t seen you since Sectionals which didn’t seem like that long ago but to him, it feels like a lifetime. You’ve cut your hair since then and Sunghoon noticed.

Meeting his eyes once again you see how they sparkle, just like they do when he’s on the ice.

“Sorry for my brother, he can be-”

“A dick?”

“A lot,” Your tone is filled with warning. Sunghoon might have been right but that’s still your brother, “He can be a lot but you already know that.”

Walking up to you, he tilts his head and smiles softly, “Don’t start apologising for him now, Sweets.” He leans so his face meets yours, “Or else you’ll be apologising your whole life.”

Sunghoon pats your head and makes his way to the coach's office, leaving you mesmerised.

______

Minhee and Sunghoon have successfully kept their distance from each other for the past two weeks, which has been a relief to everyone. If this pattern continues, there is hope that everything will just be a harmonious as before the merge.

Although the rink was now open for their disposal, you were never more grateful. No, it wasn’t for you, the coaches explicitly said it was for the future medalists, but you knew the receptionist for the building and she would let you away with anything if you batted your lashes and gave her a box of Toffees.

Growing up at the rink meant you found solace in the atmosphere and surroundings, so much so that you went there to simply study, the arena oddly hugging you in comfort while you tore the hair from your head. Skaters and staff became your friends with how much time you’ve spent in the bleachers. Typically, it would be during the day with what little spare time you had, but with the building being open around the clock it means you can inhabit the premises in the middle of the night, the perfect time to get your head down and work.

That is where you are headed right now just after your shift at the supermarket. It was as painful as ever with customers not understanding that you don’t make the prices, or that no you cannot watch their baby while they run for a jug of milk. It’s baffling how dense some people can be.

The rink is a nice place to relax and get away from it all.

Pushing open the door you see the receptionist, Miss Barbara, filing her nails. She was a friendly woman, the kind type, but when Coach Kim told her she would have to work some nights she wasn’t so sweet and caring, not to him anyway.

Her real name is just Barbara but as the years went on, she adopted this regal persona and insisted everyone call her Miss or Ma’am. Only you and Minhee gave in to her request though.

“Hi, Miss Barbara,” You wave. Reaching into your white tote bag you retrieve her bribes, eh, goodies, and pass them to her.

With much delight, she wiggles her fingers and slips them from the desk into her lap, “Y/N you are my favourite person that walks through those doors!” Her eyes are trained on the sweets rather than you when she speaks which makes you chuckle.

“Glad I can be held in such high regard, Miss Barbara,” You change your accent to a posh one and wave like a Queen in her tiny town car. Lifting her head, Miss Barbara sees your roleplay and laughs, dismissing you into the rink.

As you step into the arena, the chill of the air greets you, accompanied by the soothing sound of skates slicing through the ice. Finding your way to the centre of the second row of bleachers, you settle in, unpacking your bag and gracefully arranging your belongings. Crossing your legs to create space for your laptop and paper, you deftly balance everything, a skill you've honed to perfection.

Typing in your password you hear the skates coming towards you and scraping to a halt but you don’t look up.

“If you’ve come to spy on my routine you aren’t doing a very good job at hiding.” Sunghoon playfully remarks. You hadn’t even noticed it was him who was skating, since it was usually Wonyoung gracing the ice you just expected it to be her. He looks at your mess of a lap and scrunches his full eyebrows, “Like you’re really not making it discrete.”

You look up and see him pointing to your laptop, “Oh, no I’m just studying.” Returning to typing you hear him scoff, making you look at him again.

“You expect me to believe that?” The look on his face is incredulous when you don’t budge, “What? Don’t they have libraries at your Uni?”

Sunghoon’s tone is accusatory and you don’t like it. “Look, I don’t have beef with you okay? That’s the wrong Kang sibling.” There is no reason for him to be giving you attitude right now, you hadn’t done anything wrong, an innocent bystander in all this.

Deep down he knew that too, but he couldn’t be too careful.

Crossing his arms, he leans on top of the barrier and rests his chin, examining you and how much you’re telling the truth, “So, what? You genuinely just sit here and study? Does the cold stimulate your brain or something?”

“No, it’s like white noise at this point, comforting.” Glancing up you see his still dubious expression, “Ugh, look I come here all the time, ask anyone!” Your arms gesturing to the empty rink is not really helping your case.

Having had enough you slam the laptop shut and stand up, “Whatever, I’ll just go somewhere else.”

Sunghoon shoots his arms up to mock surrender, “Woah, Sweets, calm down, I was just making sure. Need to air on the side of caution, yeah?” His voice softens.

Making you uncomfortable wasn’t on his list of things to do, but his mum made it very clear your whole family wasn’t to be trusted, and he always heeded his mother's warnings even if he thought she was being overdramatic. “Listen, stay here as long as you want but if I see your brother doing a double toe loop into a triple axel I know who to blame.”

With a smirk, you sit back down, “See now you’ve just told me your big secret,” a laugh leaves your lips, “Changed your mind on trusting a Kang so soon huh?”

He’s flabbergasted.

Did he really just tell you part of his routine like it was nothing, in an instant after he just told himself not to be so trusting of you? You’re more dangerous than he first thought, and you aren’t even trying.

After seeing the realisation come over his face you laugh loudly, “Sunghoon, don’t worry. My brother can handle you on his own, he doesn’t need to cheat to beat you.”

“Say that to my 8 first places over him.” It goes silent. It’s not like you could argue with him, Sunghoon did beat Minhee in a lot of skates.

Trying to lighten the mood he points to you, “No pictures.” He jokes and skates away adroitly.

You don’t see the smile creeping onto his face, or the way tries to shake you out of his head. That conversation between you made him want it to be the start of many more, much more.

________

Emerging from your room, you're taken aback to find your mom standing right at your door, narrowly avoiding a collision. Both of you gasp and instinctively clutch your chests. "Jesus, Y/N, you scared me," she exclaims. Ignoring the fact that she's lingering around your room, you offer an apology, which she quickly dismisses. "A letter came for you," she informs you, handing over the manila envelope before walking away. At least she isn't one of those moms who loiter and wait for you to open it; she doesn't fuss over things like that. Or perhaps, she doesn't fuss over you.

Abandoning your plan to head to the kitchen for a cup of tea, you return to your bed and sprawl across it, letting your legs dangle off the edge. With a swift motion, you tear open the envelope and unfold the letter, eagerly scanning its contents.

Dear Y/N Kang,

At Yonsei University, our students consistently impress us with their dedication and commitment to excellence. Each year, we have the privilege of acknowledging one outstanding student whose remarkable progress merits special recognition. This year, we are delighted to announce that you have been selected as the top student of Yonsei University.

In light of your exceptional achievements, we would be honoured to celebrate your success by presenting you with an award. A special ceremony, bringing together top students from across the city, will be held on the 23rd of September at 7 pm in the historic Cathedral adjacent to our university campus. You are welcome to bring a plus one to share in this momentous occasion.

Congratulations once again on this well-deserved honour.

You skim-read the rest, and a triumphant smile creeps onto your face. There's no conceivable way you're at the top of the University this year - perhaps the top of your year, but the entire university? It feels like a surreal, sick joke. Investigating the envelope, you spot the official stamp of Yonsei. It's real.

Bounding down the stairs, you find your mum and brother already seated at the dining table, ready for dinner, "Mum, Mini, look!" You flap the paper in their faces, excitement bubbling within you. Your mum tuts and carefully opens the letter, reading it with precision. You're searching for any sign of a reaction, but nothing surfaces. She simply places it down and checks her phone.

You sit down gingerly, awaiting her acknowledgement, hoping for some form of appreciation, "Hmm, thought so." Clicking the lock on her phone, she sets it aside, "Sorry, Y/N, Minhee has a schedule that day."

"But aren't you happy for me?" You ask, your excitement dampening. It's not just about the ceremony; it's about the achievement itself. She should be proud of you, "I'm at the top of my university."

"Yes, you are, darling," your mum responds, her tone lacking enthusiasm. Normally, it wouldn't bother you, but this is a big deal, huge even, and she couldn't spare you the time of day to at least pretend to be happy for you.

Your heart sinks, and the elation you felt a moment ago dissipates. She really did not care, and the void of her indifference casts a shadow over your significant accomplishment.

Minhee places a comforting hand on your shoulder, sensing your disappointment. "Top of the class, huh? Finally, you get one of your awards in my trophy room." His attempt at humour falls flat in the weight of the moment. Minhee notices your lack of response, withdrawing his hand and sinking into silence, his gaze fixed downward.

“We just can’t go, your brother has an advertisement to film that day, we’ve been planning it for months. You understand.”

You had no choice but to understand.

“Yes, Mum.” The acceptance cuts deep. You've never blamed Minhee for the uneven distribution of favouritism; it wasn't his fault, yet, the sting of yearning for a moment in the spotlight, just once, remains. The chair you rise from screeches against the floor. "I need to go tell my friends about it."

There isn’t a protest from her, so you slip out quietly. Minhee extends a hand toward you, a silent gesture of support, but you don’t bother acknowledging it. The door closes behind you, leaving a trail of unresolved emotions lingering in the air.

In truth, you didn’t want to tell your friends right now, when you tell them you want it to be a happy occasion, not tarnished by your mum's attitude.

How could she be so nonchalant about the fact that you achieved such an award? You weren’t looking for bells and whistles but a simple ‘Well done, Y/N.’ would have sufficed. Was it too much to ask for? You did all this for her, after all.

A deja vu of last week, you push the heavy doors to the Belmore Centre, greeting Miss Barbara before heading to the rink.

The familiar scent of ice and warm rubber infiltrates your nose, offering solace and temporarily numbing the thoughts swirling in your mind. The rink, with its unique aura, never fails to bring you a sense of contentment.

As you take your usual seat, you can't help but notice an unusual absence of the rhythmic sound of skates cutting through the ice. It's just past 8 pm, yet the rink is eerily silent. For a change, it's pure bliss, the absence of the usual hustle and bustle providing an unexpected sanctuary.

Sitting with your head in your hands, you succumb to overthinking. If only you could have skated and achieved something that your mum could be proud of. What would it take?

A tear slips down your cheek, and you're oblivious to the approaching presence.

Sunghoon’s smile is subtle as he takes in your dishevelled appearance. You’re not in your usual jacket, in fact, you look like you've hastily run out of the house as if you were just popping into the shop for milk.

With your hands buried in your head, he hears a sniffle, realizing that you're crying, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Sunghoon drops his bag and skates as he rushes over to you, concern all over his face.

Shaking your head you just cry harder as your brain screams at you. It is so loud you can’t hear anything else, certainly not the boy sitting next to you.

He rubs your back to calm you down but to no avail. Instead, you cry harder and he doesn’t know what to do. Sunghoon isn’t exactly an expert when it comes to crying girls, “Sweets, stop crying.” Great, Sunghoon, just great, he curses himself, “Umm, no wait, shit, breathe! I’ve heard that works before.” He quickly made the realisation he would never make it as a therapist.

Sunghoon is always so confident and self-assured but right now with you he has no idea how to act.

What he doesn’t realize is that his awkward attempt to console you has genuinely worked. Sunghoon fumbling over his words gives you something to focus on, and hearing him mutter to himself about how awful he is at this makes you laugh. It’s a small laugh but one that breaks through the heaviness of the moment.

Hearing your laughter, Sunghoon whips his head to face you, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “What happened, Y/N?” His voice carries a gentle concern, inviting you to share, but you just shake your head, not ready to delve into the details. “Nah, come on. Whatever it is has really upset you. It’s better to talk about it.”

His voice resonates with a soothing calmness, making you feel like you could confide in him about anything.

“I just feel like I'm not good enough and that anything I do will never meet her standards,” you shrug, expressing the weight of self-doubt that has been dragging you down.

“Ah, it’s your mum, right?” His lips purse as he gazes ahead to the rink. The elude to ‘her’ being his only anchor of reasoning.

Your silence serves as confirmation. Sunghoon, all too familiar with the feeling of not being enough, understands your pain. But in this moment, it's not about him. He can only offer superficial advice, “If you live your life based on other's expectations, you’ll never be truly happy.”

“Says the competitive figure skater,” you lightly laugh, a hint of sadness slowly dissipating from your face.

Sunghoon pauses the reassuring circles between your shoulders and sighs, “You got me there.” You were right; who was he to tell you to stop living for other people when that’s all he has ever done since he was 6?

Seeing how his shoulders slump, you worry you might have hit a nerve. “Hey, I didn’t me—”

“Do you want to do something reckless?” The sudden switch from sadness to confidence confuses you, and you gaze at him as if he has two heads. It's remarkable how quickly he pulled himself out of his own thoughts, and you can't help but feel a twinge of envy.

When you don’t respond, he pushes the idea further, “Come on, Sweets. Didn’t have you as the type to say no to a little fun.”

“There's a big difference between reckless and fun, so which is it?” you ask.

“Come and find out.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Suddenly, Sunghoon springs to his feet and yanks you out of your seat, propelling you into whatever scheme he has up his sleeve. As his hand interlocks with yours, a peculiar flutter dances in your stomach.

“Where are we going?” You glance around as he drags you past the rink and into the back rooms. "What’s so fun about plain grey walls and 'Employee of the Month' posters?”

Sunghoon simply rolls his eyes in response to your question.

The next thing you know, you're in a warehouse-like room, surrounded by old skating equipment, acrylite shields you've seen hockey players collide with, and an army of mannequins.

What somehow escapes your notice is the giant red Zamboni that Sunghoon is confidently strolling towards.

Seeing you mesmerized by the mannequins, Sunghoon waits for you to turn around, but you're too engrossed in the plastic figures to notice him. “Looking for your next boyfriend in there?” he teases, his voice slicing through the silence of the room.

Jumping at the unexpected remark, you hastily remove your hand from one of the figures' chests and whip around. Sunghoon leans against the Zamboni, a tilted smirk gracing his face, hands tucked casually in his trouser pockets. Embarrassed, you mumble a quick 'shut up' and shuffle over to him. To be honest, those dummies probably would have offered a more exciting conversation than most men.

Your eyes finally land on the Zamboni. It gleams, proudly bearing the bold inscription 'Zamboni Campbell' on the side. A few years ago, Coach Kim, in a moment of whimsy, had asked people to name the ‘new love in his life’ through a Facebook post. Some 7-year-old had chosen 'Zamboni Campbell.' It might not have been the most clever name, but considering his age, you let it slide.

“Please stop leaning on Zamboni Campbell; she’s a national treasure,” you interject, half-joking. If anything were to happen to her, you imagine Coach Kim might have an aneurysm.

The figure skater scoffs and pushes himself off the machine, “She’s no Zamby Malik.” He jokes, “My baby boy is probably being abused right now.” The comment raises an eyebrow; what is it with some people and their weird fascination for anything with a motor? Your expression remains neutral as Sunghoon looks at you. “Zamby Malik? Albion’s Zamboni? Named after Zayn Malik?” he questions.

“Yeah, got that reference, thanks.” Stepping forward, your eyes meet his. “I have been a Niall worshipper for many, many years,” you say proudly. You’ve been a dedicated fan of Niall and all the One Direction boys forever.

“Eh, more of a Louis girl myself,” Sunghoon shrugs and turns to face the ice resurfacer. “So, how badly have you ever wanted to ride her?” His hands rub together in a way that eerily resembles a villain plotting an evil scheme.

Nope. Absolutely not. You're not getting on that thing. For one, Coach Kim would undoubtedly kill you both if he found out. He loves the Zamboni more than his own children. And two, you have no idea how to operate it. Disaster is inevitable. “I am not getting on that thing!”

Sunghoon gives you a look that says ‘Of course, you are getting on that thing.’ but he can give you all the looks he wants, you are not doing it.

“Sweets, you need to have a go. It’ll help whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours.” Sunghoon's hand playfully ruffles your hair before he strides towards the steps of the Zamboni.

Fixing your hair consciously, you find yourself following him. “How will it help exactly? When I die from crashing it or at the hands of Coach Kim, at least I'll be free of my thoughts?”

Sunghoon spins around, and you walk right into his chest. “I was thinking more along the lines of a clear rink, clear mind, but your reasoning works too, I suppose.” His hands grip your shoulders and push you at arm's length. “So?”

As you weigh up your options, for him, there's only one option – getting you behind the wheel of Zamboni Campbell.

“I don’t know how to drive it though, Sunghoon.” That would surely deter him from this ridiculous idea. But it doesn't.

“Duh,” His eyes rolled once again, “I’ll teach you obviously.”

It’s at that moment you understand that regardless of how long you’ve known him, you don’t actually know him. In fact, you haven’t even had a conversation this long before.

“Since when did you know how to ride a Zamboni?” You inquire and Sunghoon removes his hands from your shoulders, running his fingers through his hair. God, he is so handsome.

“You learn a thing or two being on the ice so long.”

The truth is, he was constantly pestering the maintenance guy at Albion to clean the ice before his practice. He got so fed up hearing Sunghoon complain he told him to do it himself. So he learned, and ever since, he’s been whizzing on a Zamboni.

You are running out of excuses, and part of you is agreeing with him that this will be good for you. “Fine.”

“That’s a girl!” Sunghoon huffs, and you move to walk up the steps, but he stops you, holding up two fingers. “Two things first.”

Removing his long liquorice-colored coat, he gently places it on your shoulders. The warmth lingering from his body heat in the linings of the jacket makes you realize how cold you were. “It gets cold up there,” he says, straightening out the collar.

You push your arms through the holes and wrap yourself up in it. Sunghoon has broad shoulders, so the jacket makes you look ten times smaller than you are, creating a cosy cocoon.

If he knew it was okay to say, he'd probably tell you how cute you look. For now, he keeps that thought to himself.

Murmuring a polite ‘thank you,’ you're grateful he doesn’t ask why you don't have your jacket. Sunghoon hasn’t pushed you to talk about it at all, and that's something you appreciate.

Sunghoon climbs up and gets situated behind the wheel.

“Wait, you said there were two things?” The jacket is one, and what else?

“Ah, there’s only one seat up here so,” he pats his lap, “You’re going to have to sit on my knee.”

He has to be joking, yet his face looks serious, a tinge of red sneaking onto his neck and ears. He’s blushing. The playful challenge in his eyes mixes with genuine warmth. It's clear he wants to make you smile.

Cute.

“I can’t teach you from down there, now come on up.” He continues.

He won’t give up, apparently, so with a huff, you start scaling the steps, standing at the top and realise how high this thing is. Sunghoon puts his hand out for you to take as he guides you to sit down. “This is super high,” you state patently.

Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head, “You’re just small, Sweets.” His hands go to your waist to stabilise you while you hike one leg over him. “That’s it, not so scary, huh?”

Slowly, you sit down on his lap, getting yourself comfortable. You feel his thighs tense under you. “Oh, am I too heavy?”

Quickly, he shakes his head, “No, not at all, I’ve got legs of steel.” He slaps the side of his thigh and relaxes them a little. Sunghoon won’t say it, but the way you wriggled to get comfy was putting pressure straight on his cock, making him tense up. It would be rude to pop a boner right now no matter how good you feel, given the circumstances.

“So what do I do?”

“Hmm?” He was too busy lost in his thoughts he forgot what he was doing. “Oh, right,” he turns on the machine and guides you through the steps. “So there are six levers, each does their own thing—conditioner, elevation, brush, tyre wash, wash water,” he continues going through the controls.

While he’s explaining, you observe how fast his lips are moving. Is he always this talkative, or is it just with you? A part of you hopes for the latter. “And we are good to go.” He finishes and smiles. You probably should have paid attention because now he’s looking at you expectantly. “You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”

“Something about water being washed?” you bring your shoulders up sheepishly and smile, showing all your teeth.

The look on his face feigns annoyance, “How about I drive and you sit there and look pretty, yeah?”

Pretty. That’s the second time he's inadvertently called you pretty.

Sunghoon reaches his arm around you, starting the machine up and driving it onto the rink, his other hand is holding you securely in his lap. The ice resurfacer is in full swing as it sweeps the edges of the rink. You haven’t seen the rink from this angle before and it brings forth a new appreciation.

“Gonna need you to pump for me.”

It takes you a minute to process his words before craning your neck around to look at him, “Excuse me?” You have no idea in what context that sentence couldn’t be laced with innuendo.

He seems unphased, or maybe just unaware of his words double entendre, and points to the right of the machine, “This Zam has a manual wash water lever, you need to pump it for me, Sweets, I can’t reach it with you on my lap.”

Can he please stop saying pump for all that is holy?

You screw your head back on and see the black lever he is talking about, “This one?”

His one hand on your hip squeezes slightly when you reach over, “Yeah just lift it up and down, it might be heavy for you so be careful.”

Sunghoon watches you pump the water washer a few times, you use both hands to grasp the lever so he tightens his hold on your waist to ensure your safety. After he has focused on the task at hand he notices the way your hands are gripped around the lever, your fingers barely able to wrap around it. He can’t stop the next thoughts that come into his head. What he wouldn’t give to have you stroking his cock with those pretty hands.

The next thing he notices is how you’re softly grunting as you put the work in and your arms losing pace due to repetition and tiredness. The scene in front of him isn’t calming his thoughts down any because now he’s thinking if these noises are similar to ones you would make while bouncing on his dick. He feels like a pervert because here you are upset and he’s got crude thoughts of you infiltrating his mind.

“That’s enough for now, Sweets.” His voice is strained, he could have watched you do that for hours but for the sake of the ice and his dignity, he needs you to stop.

Pulling away and shuffling back to comfort on his lap you smile, “That was weirdly fun. It got some frustration out of me.”

It’s ironic because frustration has seeped into Sunghoon, horny frustration, and you are so blissfully unaware.

“Wow, look how sparkly it is!” You exclaim as your eyes are glued to the ice behind you. Maybe only once have you seen the rink so clean, but even then it wasn’t like this, it’s practically glistening. Zamboni Campbell needs to pat herself on the back.

The boy steering her also needs to praise himself not just for the excellent resurfacing job, but also for helping you. It’s not until now you see that his plan worked, he got you out of your head and stopped the crippling thoughts that were bound to consume you if you didn’t have this distraction.

Both of you lap the rink 4 times before Sunghoon looks at his handy work and smiles, “She drives like a dream.” He steers back into the warehouse, trying to park the Zamboni close enough to where they found it.

“Better than Zamby Malik?” You tease.

“Never, but she’s not far off.” Sunghoon doesn’t let go of the hold he has on your waist despite the ice resurfacer being stagnant. Instead, he’s slightly massaging your sides, an action you can barely feel because of his coat engulfing your body, but you feel it enough.

Turning around so your legs are draped fully over his thighs, you're about to get off him, but you don't. You should stand up, climb down the steps, and leave it as a nice memory, but this future memory feels too short like there should be something more to it.

Sunghoon feels it too, that’s why he’s staring at you so intensely. The once shallow smile he had on his face now dropped off; his eyes are looking deep into yours, and his hands move up your waist slightly, yet he doesn’t make a move.

This has to be your decision. Something you want.

If there was ever an inappropriate time to think about your brother, it’s when you’re two seconds away from kissing a guy. Minhee’s face flashes in your mind, and you realize what you’re about to do - you’re about to kiss Minhee’s biggest rival, his arch-nemesis, how could you even face your brother if you gave in to this?

Sunghoon watches you while your brain flips out; you don’t look like you’re 100% certain of the idea of his lips on yours. “Sweets?” he squeezes your waist and sighs, “We should get going.”

Oh.

All you’re thinking about is why he didn’t kiss you, and why it hurt a little that he didn’t. It looked like he wanted to; maybe you took too long, or he stared long enough to realize you weren’t actually pretty. You guys don't even know each other well, but you feel yourself being pulled towards him. Wasn’t it the same for him? Your brain went from overthinking one thing to another.

Nodding your head, you stand up carefully and make your way down. You can’t even look at him out of shame and guilt for even entertaining the idea of kissing him. Your mum would be so disappointed if she knew.

Sunghoon follows you down but unlike you he is keeping his eyes fixed on your face, focusing on every change in your manner both positive and negative. He wanted to kiss you but you looked like you were about to pass out from the thought of it. Sunghoon wanted you to be certain, “I’ll drive you home.”

“No, no it’s fine, I’m not that far from here.” Being in a car with him after this wouldn’t be the best outcome, your mind is still on his lips.

“Please, Y/N, it’s late. I just want to make sure you’re safe. Anything could happen.” Sunghoon doesn’t want you to walk home, yes because of safety concerns, but also because he wants to spend even a fraction of a minute more time with you. You seem to be one of the few people in this world he can relax around.

He should have just kissed you.

The look on his face is serious but his eyes are soft, not asking but begging you to just say yes.

“Sure.” The atmosphere is heavy, filled with longing and tension. You’re both thinking different things.

You’re analysing every specific detail from tonight to see if you have done something wrong, anything that would have stopped him from kissing you.

And Sunghoon’s brain is filled with various thoughts of you from tonight. The lever, the way you felt so right sitting in his lap, and more importantly how amazing it felt to be the one that made you smile. The way you smiled and giggled on the Zamboni is something he is going to commit to memory.

As of today, he will start keeping part of his brain solely for you to occupy.

The walk to Sunghoon's car is silent, free of the laughter and conversation that previously filled your space. Both of you appear to be over-analysing each other's previous acts, which makes the situation more awkward than it needs to be.

Sunghoon's car is impressive: a sleek monochrome Peugeot New 2008 with a black interior. The scent of his fresh cologne combines with the ocean-scented tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.

“This is a nice car.” You note, buckling up your seatbelt.

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she? Got her as part of a brand deal with Peugeot Sport.” His hands caress the smooth wheel and his lips upturn into a proud smile. Brand deals and advertisements are not what you want to hear about right now, especially when it’s the one thing your mum cared about instead of your award. Your sour mood doesn’t go unnoticed, “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

That was the one place you didn’t really want to be right now but you nod, shoulders slumped a little at the thought of facing your mum again.

“Or,” Sunghoon starts, “We could get some food? The University Cafe is always open late.”

It was like he could read your mind, “Yeah, I could eat.”

With that, Sunghoon starts the car and drives to the cafe. The way your face turned a little paler when he said he would take you home alarmed him. He doesn’t think you’re in danger there, Minhee might be a dick but he was protective over you, he wouldn’t let anything happen, and Sunghoon knew that. Whatever it is, you didn’t want to go home, and Sunghoon is more than willing to keep you to himself for a couple more hours.

The journey to the cafe, situated more on his side of town, unfolds in silence, only disrupted by the gentle strains of Hozier's "Like Real People Do" emanating from the radio. A wry smile tugs at Sunghoon's lips, finding the song's relevance a touch on the nose for the current situation.

Upon arriving at the cafe, you're taken aback by its shabby appearance - chipped walls, adjacent graffiti, not to mention it’s deserted. Sunghoon, attuned to your hesitance, reassures you, “It’s a lot nicer than it looks, promise. I’ve been coming here forever.” Stepping out of the car, he leaves you with the choice of venturing into the weathered establishment or remaining in the safety of the car. Despite your reservations, a rumble from your stomach nudges you to join him inside.

The interior mirrors the exterior's wear and tear, yet a certain comfort envelops the air as Sunghoon guides you with a reassuring hand on the small of your back. “Sit anywhere you like, Sweets.”

Opting for a seat by the back window, you settle into the firm, brown booth without ridding yourself of Sunghoon's coat, a silent acknowledgement that your stay may be short-lived. You aren’t a snob but you have a cafe like this in your side of town and it isn’t somewhere you choose to occupy.

Noticing your scrutiny of the surroundings, Sunghoon, with a laugh, takes a seat across from you, studying your expression, "You don’t like it, huh?"

Huffing, you cast a critical eye around the place, "Not really, no."

You were brutally honest, he’ll give you that, “Wait until you try their food and then judge okay?” He chuckles and hands you the menu on the table.

A waitress waltzes over with a pen and paper. She’s too beautiful for a place like this, her rosy cheeks and long flowing brown hair make you jealous, “Sunghoon! My favourite ice slasher, how is it going?”

While they engage in small talk you look at the menu looking for something safe to eat. Maybe you should just wait for Sunghoon to order and get the same thing.

“Y/N, you know what you want?” He turns to you.

“Oh, so you’re the Y/N?” the waitress grins.

What does that mean? How does she know your name? When you glance at Sunghoon, you notice his intense stare fixed on the girl. This is strange. The waitress seems to pick up on Sunghoon's unspoken communication, smirking as she says, "I mean, you're Kang Minhee's sister, right?" She then slowly turns her attention to you.

Ah, that's how she knew. He must have spoken ill of Minhee and you enough times for her to recognize you. Fueled by this assumption, you shift into defence mode. "Yeah, I am," you reply sharply, your expression hardening as you lean back, raising your eyebrows and waiting for her response, half-expecting her to be rude to you.

Strangely, the waitress's expression brightens. "It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Can I get you anything?" Her voice carries genuine warmth.

Now you feel a bit guilty. She seems genuinely nice.

"Uh," you glance at the menu again, uncertain of what to order. "What's good?"

Sunghoon intervenes with a smile. "She'll take my usual," he tells the waitress as she departs. Ordinarily, you dislike when men presume to order for you, but in this instance, you're grateful for the assistance. "It's just a plain cheese and ham panini with tomato, pesto, and hot sauce. It sounds simple, but it's delicious."

You expected Sunghoon to be a burger and fries kind of guy, but with his physique and strict regimen, you should have known his tastes would lean towards the healthier side of things.

“Did you order a drink with this ‘usual’ or am I supposed to just swallow it dry?”

“Comes with diet coke and a lime.” He says timidly, now for the first time he is self-conscious about his food choice. Sunghoon would like nothing more than to chomp into a pizza and a full-fat Pepsi but with National’s coming up at the end of the year, he needs to stick somewhat to his meal plan. In hindsight, he should have ordered you something you might have liked. What did you like? He didn’t even know that simple fact, “Do you want something else? I can change it.”

“No it’s okay, I’ll trust your judgment,” You relax into the booth, “Shoot me if i’m being too straight forward but don’t you have enough money to go like, I don’t know, somewhere nicer than this?”

Raising his hands in a gun motion he pretends to shoot you and you fake a wound in your shoulder. It’s nice to be playful like this, Sunghoon hasn’t had this for a long time, “You know how to ask a question, Sweets.”

He then shrugs and looks around the cafe, not unlike how you were doing earlier but his eyes aren’t filled with distaste; they’re shining in fondness.

“It’s where my dad would take me after practices. Mum would never let me come here once I started aiming for professional level, too much grease and too many carbs.” He recalls a time his mum had him on a diet at 11 because he wasn’t flying high enough and a frown appeared on his face, “My dad though, he wanted me to be at least somewhat a normal kid so every Wednesday when mum worked late we would come here. Eat whatever we want and then pop a breath mint in the car.”

Sunghoon’s features are mixed with hurt and fondness, “Sorry, about your dad.” You offer your condolences.

When Sunghoon was 15 his dad died of a heart attack right before the Junior Championships and it broke him to the point he didn’t want to skate anymore, it wasn’t fun because his dad was always the one to cheer him on. His parents had their roles, his mum was strict and direct, getting him to train hard and achieve his best. And his dad was the reliever, encouraging him to have fun and let loose, be a kid. With one half of the balance scales gone, it was difficult for Sunghoon to maintain any adolescent normality. Perhaps that’s why he’s so fond to have you around.

In the silence you speak up, “You know your dad used to sneak me a packet of Haribos nearly every competition.” The boy's head whips to look at you and tilts, a knowing look on his face, “Yeah, and every time he would say ‘With everything so sour, we deserve something sweet’.” You smile at the thought.

“I-, he was kind like that.” He wants to say more, but he stops himself.

His dad was the nicest man in the whole world. When you found out the news that he passed away, you cried a little. Your mum being your mum she didn’t understand it, claimed you didn’t know him enough to mourn. Regardless of how well you knew him, people who were so kind and loving don’t deserve to be taken from this world so quickly.

You see the look on Sunghoon’s face lighten up a little, the shadow over his eyes washing away and when he looked at you, the sparkle came back, “So, you can’t hate this place or else I can pull the dead dad took me here card.”

“Fine. I love it.” The words feign mocking when in actuality they are full of understanding.

The waitress from earlier brings over the drinks in a frosted glass with a lime wedge on the rim, “There you go! Added extra ice for my Ice Prince.”

My. She could have said ‘The’.

It stirred up something within your chest. Jealousy? Okay but why are you getting jealous over this? You don’t know because you aren’t exactly his and you have never been the threatened type, so you don’t know what’s going on with you.

“Food will be right out!” She hops away and she is back in a flash with the Paninis.

What you don’t expect is Sunghoon to take both of them and add some condiments, opening up the middle to pour a slight bit of salt and some mayonnaise.

“Excuse me, I don't need your hands all over my food.” Crossing your arms you wait for him to stop but he doesn’t. Instead, he shows you his hands, stretching them over the table.

“Look how clean they are, Sweets.” They are clean and oh-so pretty. Suddenly you’re jealous of the food that receives his touch, wishing it was you. You need to get a grip, first the waitress, and now a piece of toasted bread are the objects of your envy.

It’s like your crush from when you were little came back tenfold, with every second you spend with him that little innocent pash is turning into full blown infatuation. Now with added hormones, it’s like you’re drawn to him more than ever. It’s scary how quickly you fell back into your feelings, whatever they were.

“Y/N?” He brings you back to reality with his low voice, retreating his hand, “Lost you for a minute there.”

Passing you the food you thank him, “Sorry, happens a lot. I tend to overthink literally everything.” It’s a confession you haven’t let pass your lips. Not ever. “I learned to control it as I got older but if I’m upset I can’t stop it 99% of the time, even if it’s something simple like putting salt on this food.”

Sunghoon sees you physically overthinking what you just said. It’s the exact same face you made when you were inches from kissing him.

He understands the situation earlier a little better now.

“So what’s upsetting you now, Sweets?” He asks, “You said you didn’t feel good enough, what happened?”

Shuddering, you remember your words. You’re embarrassed that you blurted out your feelings so readily, “It’s nothing.” Then you remember, “Why did you think it was my mum?”

“If your mum is anything like mine, and I guarantee she is, then I don’t ‘think’ it was your mum, I know it.” There’s an empathy shining in his eyes, “What did she do?”

“I got some good news, and when I told her about it,” Sighing, you try to aggregate your feelings. Sunghoon’s hand makes contact with your forearm as he sees you struggle. The soothing motion of his thumb calms you instantly, “she just dismissed it. Like my achievement wasn’t up to par with Mini’s.”

“What was the good news?”

“Nothing major I guess. I’m the top student at my University for the year and I’m receiving an award.”

Sunghoon is furious. Your mum had downplayed your achievement and now you don’t think it’s a big deal and he wasn’t having it, “Y/N. You go to Yonsei, right?” Once you nod he continues, “Then that IS major, what are you talking about?”

“It’s not exactly a Championship medal.” Your shoulders slump.

“And?” Squeezing your arm he tries to make you see past your mother and her shitty attitude, “Some people would think your achievement means more than one of his, does that make Minhee’s less than yours?” You mumble a quick ‘of course not’, not grasping what he’s saying, “Then why do you think that way about your award? Sweets, it’s fucking amazing you should be proud of yourself.”

You are, it’s your mum who isn’t and that’s what you can’t get over.

Instead of answering back you avoid the conversation altogether and start eating the food in front of you.

One bite has you falling in love with the taste, the pesto combination with the cheese and parma ham melts in your mouth and makes your tongue dance. You owe this shabby place an apology.

Triumph etches onto Sunghoon’s face as he sees the same fireworks behind your eyes that he had when he first tried the food. He knew you’d like it.

“Oh, my days.” You stare at him wide-eyed, one hand covering your mouth. Never will you doubt him again.

“Told you.” He smirks and eats some of his own, the familiar aroma and your face make his chest fill with glee and gratification, “I’ve just learned two things about you in this last minute.”

“And what’s that?” You question, taking another bite.

“You love the food here and will never question my taste again,” Your eyes are still on the food but you nod to agree, “And you’re an avoider.”

What is that supposed to mean?

“An avoider?”

Sunghoon leans back and picks up a tissue, cleaning the crumbs from his fingers, “You changed the topic pretty fast when you didn’t want to have a conversation you’re uncomfortable with. You can’t accept what I’m saying is right, your achievement is just as mighty as all of Minhee’s and it IS a big deal.”

Arguing with him about it is pointless. Does it mean you won’t though? No.

“It’s not that I'm not accepting what you’re saying,” it is, he thinks to himself, “I just don’t need to air my drama or feelings to someone I don’t know.”

“Believe it or not, asking questions and having conversations like this is how you get to know people,” Sunghoon pushed the food to the side and leaned forward, “I just want to get to know you.”

You challenge him by matching his posture and leaning on the table, “Whatever happened to, oh I don’t know, what’s your favourite colour?”

“White. See, easy right?” He’s smug. Sunghoon isn’t trying to pressure you to answer the question, he just thinks if you speak about the issue, it’ll alleviate the burden. A problem shared is a problem halved after all. “How about you ask me anything at all, and I’ll answer it because I know that’s how you get to know me.”

“Anything at all?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you kiss me earlier?”

Stunned. Shocked. Astounded. Whatever other synonym he could use, that’s exactly how he feels right now. For the first time in his life, he is speechless. How do you keep doing this to him? Never has anyone been so forthright with him.

Seeing his cheeks flush red and eyes dart around as if finding the answer in his brain you know you’ve won, “Not so eager to speak now, huh?”

Exhaling, Sunghoon sits back, “You looked like you were going to pass out,” He begins his answer, “You got in your head about something and it made you second guess.”

“I was thinking about Minhee.”

Sunghoon’s face shrivels, “Sweets, I know we’re compared a lot but I didn’t think he’d be my competition with you too?” Sunghoon’s voice is playful but he is worried about the next words out your lips.

Stretching over the table you slap his chest, “Ew, no that’s disgusting! Don’t even think like that!” You’re appalled at even the inclination, “It’s just that, you’re Park Sunghoon, you said it yourself he’s your competition,” He goes to say something and you stop him, “in SKATING. You’re so disgusting.” Laughter fills your booth, food and drinks forgotten, “If I ever kissed you he would freak the fuck out.”

The boy across from you knows exactly what you’re talking about, more than know, “If Minhee wasn’t a factor, would you have kissed me back?”

“Yes.”

Responding before your brain has a chance to filter the words is also a downside to your overthinking mind. So many thoughts in one brain make it easier for slips like this to happen, but you aren’t too concerned about this one, he probably already knew you would have kissed him back there if you weren’t preoccupied with contemplation.

Just as you think you’ll get to speak about what transpired earlier, the waitress comes over to take your plates away, “All done?”

Sunghoon nods and goes to pull out his wallet to pay but as he pats himself down to find it, he remembers it’s in his coat - the coat you’re still wearing “Uh, Sweets?” He points to his coat trying to tell you it’s in there.

Smirking you search the inner pockets to find a Prada wallet. You could have some fun with this.

“That’s okay, Hoonie, I’ve got it.” You pull out a few £20 notes and hand them to the waitress, “It’s my treat tonight, didn’t I tell you that? Only the best for my hard-working man.” Making kissy faces at him, his face goes red and his lips go in a thin line.

It wasn’t the fact you just paid £80 for a £12 meal with his money, although that will be addressed later on, it was the nickname and calling him your man that has him trying to control himself. The sweet albeit lightheartedly jeering way of your words made his heart tight in the best possible way. If there was a button board on Sunghoon’s chest, filled with all his emotions like annoyance, lust, happiness, solace, and aggravation, you had pushed every one of them tonight.

Laughing you put the wallet back into his coat. He looks so cute when he goes red like that, it almost makes you want to treat him like an actual princess or stuff him in your pocket. Either way, you wanted to look after him in some form or other.

“Are you quite done now?” Sunghoon gains back his composure as he watches you chuckling away to yourself.

Suddenly, nothing was funny anymore when your phone goes off, flashing your brother's name on the screen.

You have to go home and Sunghoon knows it too, “Y/N, I would keep you out all night if I could, but Minhee might send out a missing police report if I do.”

Now that you’ve somewhat spoken the issue out loud, you think you’re being a bit over the top about it all but your body still has the overbearing weight placed on your shoulders. Facing your mum right now was the last thing you wanted but you know you can’t avoid her forever.

“I’ll text him. He thinks I’m at Rina’s place telling her and Allen the news.” Quickly standing up you type a generic reply back, telling him you’ll be home soon.

Sunghoon keeps two steps behind you while you walk out of the cafe, his arm hovering by your side to guide you as you text and walk at the same time, he waves goodbye to the waitress and she wafts the cash in her face, fanning herself with his hard-earned money. All he can do is laugh and show his disbelief at her flaunting through his expression.

“There. Sent.” You put the phone into Sunghoon’s coat pocket. You’re almost at his car when you hear him speak up.

“Hey, Sweets?”

“Hmm?”

Sunghoon grabs your left arm, twirls you around, and presses his lips against yours.

The action knocks the air from your lungs and your eyes widen. Park Sunghoon was kissing you. His palms cup each of your cheeks, his lips moving against yours as he backs you up until your back hits the side of his car. This is what you wanted back at the rink, to have the feeling of his mouth moulding to yours, except it was better than expected, it felt like heaven.

He can't seem to get enough of you as he fervently kisses your mouth, his tongue sliding along your lips, eliciting a soft moan from you that's music to his ears. It was a daring move to kiss you so suddenly, and in an ideal world, he would have asked for permission first. But he knows that might have sparked another bout of overthinking from you, and he couldn't risk losing this second chance to kiss you tonight.

Sliding his hands into your hair, he gently pulls your head back, granting him better access to your open mouth, deepening the kiss. Lost in the sensation of your lips, he doesn't even notice the subtle movement of your fingers dancing along his waist until they settle between his lower back and the top of his ass.

At this moment, nothing could stop you from kissing or touching him.

Except, perhaps, one person.

Your phone vibrates, indicating an incoming call, but you're too entranced by Sunghoon's lips and tongue to notice. Pressing his body against yours, he traps you between him and the car, the sensation of his hips against yours causing you to instinctively grind against him, using your hands to pull him closer.

However, in the intimate closeness, he can feel your phone vibrating against your body. As much as he wants to ignore it, he knows you can't. "Sweets, your phone," he murmurs between kisses, his hands dropping from your hair to reach into your pocket, even as your lips continue to chase after his. "It's Minhee; you better take it."

No way has he cock blocked you twice in one night.

Grumbling, you take the phone from Sunghoon and answer, “Hi Minhee…No, I wasn’t ignoring you, I was putting on my shoes…no no, you don’t need to pi-”

You pause mid-sentence when Sunghoon starts kissing your neck and squeezing your waist. What does he think he's doing? Glancing down, you catch his eyes sneakily looking up at you. Attempting to push him away only results in him biting down, his fangs teasing the verge of breaking skin. In any other situation, you might have found it hot, but with Minhee yapping in your ear, you don't have time to appreciate it.

“Look, I’m on my way home…I’ll walk, it's not that far…seriously, Minhee- Oh,” you moan involuntarily when Sunghoon kisses your sweet spot, and once he's found it, he doesn’t stop licking and nibbling, “Hoonie, stop it!” You remove the phone from your ear and whisper-shout at him.

“I love it when you call me that,” he smirks, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Hearing Minhee’s voice come through the phone again, you lift it back up to your ear, “What? Oh, I stubbed my toe, look I’ll be home soon alright…Yes, Allen is here…you know he and Rina are together. I’m going to go, see you soon.” Hanging up, you sigh in exasperation.

Giving Sunghoon a few light whacks, you demand, “Why did you do that?” You're almost certain Minhee heard him, or at least now he might think you're hooking up with Allen.

Bringing his face back up to yours, Sunghoon just shrugs and kisses you again with as much fervour as before. His lips are addicting, and you don’t want to stop, but Rina lives 20 minutes from your house if you walk, and this cafe is at least a 30-minute drive. “Sunghoon, I need to go back,” you say between his insistent kisses.

“How long do I have?” He needs to know how long he can indulge in this before having to let you go.

“Not even a second. I’ll already be late even if we leave now.” When his forehead falls on yours you see the pain on his face, like you’re depriving him of a basic human need.

"Don't say that, tell your friend to phone and say you're staying with her tonight." Sunghoon can't stop his lips from capturing yours again. It's as if he's had a taste of you and doesn't want to give it up, especially now. His hand teases the waist of your trousers, tempting to dip in and touch you where you desperately need him.

Personally, you would love nothing more than to call Rina up and get her to lie, she would do it in a heartbeat but Minhee would never believe it, “I can’t. I never stay over when he has practice in the morning. Mum never wants to make a stop off to pick me up.”

“You’re killing me here.” He states breathlessly, his fingertips dancing down to your pussy as he ghosts your neck with his breath. He’s waiting on you to give him the green light but you are far too concerned about getting home.

He suddenly hates your mum a little more than before. If it wasn’t her dismissing your accomplishments, it was her inability to put you on her priority list, “Can’t you just skip his practice? He’ll have more, trust me he needs it.”

“Don’t ruin this.” You warn him from speaking any more about your brother. It does bring you back to reality just who you were kissing, but you can’t focus on that right now, your only concern is getting home.

Sunghoon apologises by kissing you again, this time more gently, like it came naturally to him, “I need to go home. No excuses.”

It isn't what he wants to hear, but he has to accept it. Stepping away from you, his gaze remains fixed on your lips, which are lush and swollen; he can only picture what they would look like if he had more time to toss you in the back seat. His mind immediately returns to you with the lever, and to be honest, he could throw a tantrum right now over the situation at hand. It was unjust that he couldn't just have you, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever get the chance again.

Moving to his side of the car he slides in and you follow suit. He uses the excuse of buckling your seatbelt for you to give you another kiss and it has you internally giggling and kicking your feet.

You do the same to him, grabbing the seatbelt from him and clipping him in, leaning over to press your lips against his soft ones.

“All I need is 5 minutes,” He whispers against your lips and you laugh, swatting his chest.

You can’t say you don’t ponder it, and when you see his hard on poking so slightly against his trousers, you look at the time and really wonder if you could, but you can’t risk Minhee even getting a whiff of this, “Next time.”

Sunghoon's eyes change from desire to hope in real time, "There'll be a next time?" His cool and confident demeanour fades and is replaced with puppy-like grin as he realises you want more than what you had tonight.

“If you get me home in the next 25 minutes there can be.” You pose and with that, Sunghoon drives out of the car park and down the highway going 10 above the limit.

Reaching closer to your house you put a hand on his thigh as you speak, “Better to drop me off here, so Mini doesn’t see you.” You also have to fake that you walked home from Rina’s so if a big fancy car starts pulling up outside your house, he’s going to know something is up.

Sunghoon takes your hand on his thigh and brings it to his lips, maintaining eye contact with the road as he stops at the curb of your neighbour's house 2 doors down. His grip tightens on your hand as he looks at the time, “Got you here in 27 minutes, Sweets.” Proud of himself he adorns a smile that splits his face in half.

Tutting you pout at him, “I guess there can’t be a next time, so sorry Hoonie.” His stunned face was worth holding in your laugh to act like you’re serious, “If only you had gotten here 2 minutes quicker.”

“Come on,” He exasperated, “There were like 10 red lights in a row.” His thumb points back to where you just drove from.

It’s true, it was bad luck, but you liked playing with him like this.

“Sorry, see you at the rink yeah?” You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to get out your side of the car, but Sunghoon isn’t letting it end here.

He stretches over to shut the door back over making you gasp, startled by the sudden move, “You don’t want to be a thief do you?” You think he’s going to hit out with something cheesy like how you stole his heart of something, but when his hand grips the coat you’re wearing you understand what he means, “Bad enough you gave my money away but now you’re trying to steal a £500 coat?”

Perplexed by both the price and the unexpected accusation, your mouth hangs open. No wonder the coat is so cosy and warm—it costs most of your month's paycheck. Exiting the car, you impishly mutter a 'fine' as you remove the jacket, placing it on the passenger seat before walking away, feeling considerably colder than before.

Just as you reach the vicinity of your house, Sunghoon calls out, "Sweets?" You spin around to see him jogging up behind you, holding your phone. Ah, you put it in his coat pocket after Minhee's call. Taking it from his grip, you thank him, only to be surprised again when he says, "You also forgot this." What else did you even have on your person to forget?

Sunghoon's mouth quickly meets yours for the nth time tonight. A kiss. You forgot to kiss him.

Sighing, you realize you have to put an end to it. Lingering out in the open so close to your home practically guarantees Minhee will see. "Hoonie."

"Shh," he hushes you, continuing the kiss, "I know, but let me have it since there won't be a next time." A fake sad look takes over his face, his hands running up and down your sides.

"Ugh fine, since you gave me my phone I suppose I could spare you some time." Crossing your arms, you act irritated, while his 'sadness' transforms into a self-satisfied smile. That was the dynamic between you both, always giving what you got, and you wanted to explore it more, no matter how difficult it was.

“See you at the rink then, Sweets.” Messing up your hair he skips back to his car like a kid on Christmas. He was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

Spending these past few hours with Sunghoon was like nothing you had ever experienced before. He knew how to wash all of your worries and woes away better than some people you’ve known for years. And when he kissed you it sent shooting stars through your body. If only 8-year-old you could see what had just happened, she would burst with excitement.

With a smile on your face, you rapidly run into your house and up the stairs, trying to be quiet but also too lost in the dizziness from Sunghoon’s kisses. As you reach the top of the stairs, Minhee opens his door and gives you a quizzical look. Oh no, he didn’t see, did he?

“Why do you look like you won the lottery?” Phew, he hadn’t.

“Just, excited about getting the award, that’s all.” It wasn’t totally a lie, he would see right through you if you started to babble out any other excuse so you had to stick to something believable. You are happy about the award, there isn’t a doubt about it, but Sunghoon reassuring you throughout the night made you stop and acknowledge how happy you really were to receive it. Your mum was the one that ruined it for you.

Minhee follows you when you walk into your room, “Y/N? You know I would be there if I could right?” Facing him, you see how sorry he looks about the situation, “I tried to phone the company to move the filming but they can’t.” Of course, he would try to move it for you, that was the kind of brother he was.

A surge of guilt overcomes your body. Here he was trying to move his schedule around, a big important schedule might you add, and you were out there kissing the one boy you shouldn’t be. If Sunghoon wasn’t such a threat to Minhee, you think they could go back to being somewhat friends, but that’s never going to happen.

“It’s okay, Mini. I know you can’t just cancel it.” Your voice is reassuring but his features still hold hurt.

“It’s not okay, Y/N. You’re the most important thing to me in this world, I want to be there for your big moments like you’ve been there for mine.” You could cry. Minhee wasn’t the type to show his emotions so being on the receiving end of such words makes you tear up a little, “Hey, Bubs, don’t cry.”

He hasn’t called you Bubs in so long, the childhood nickname growing out as you both got older. There was a bond between you and your brother, other siblings used to say how envious they were.

“I don’t want to speak ill of our mum but she was a bitch tonight. I should have said something.”

Shaking your head, you wipe your tears and look down before speaking, “Mini, it wouldn’t have helped.” Your voice cracks and your throat closes a little, “She’s always like that anyway.”

“It doesn’t make it right.” He says disapprovingly.

Minhee pulls you into a tight hug and you instantly relax. Your brain starts to overthink everything again. The lack of proudness from your mother, the kisses from Sunghoon, and the brotherly affection you’re currently receiving. Could you have it all? Getting to know Sunghoon tonight, you don’t think you can leave it where you did. There was something there between you both, you fit together like skates to ice.

“I am so proud of you, Bubs.” Minhee strokes the back of your head, “and I might not be able to go to your ceremony, but when I beat that prick and come first at Nationals? I’m dedicating that to you. I promise you that.”

That prick…Park Sunghoon.

You couldn’t have it all.

taglist: @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @ariadores @chwesuh-imnida

#enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #aj writes #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enha fluff #sunghoon x reader

1K notes · View notes

dilfl0v3rss · 8 months

Text

stiletto’s

summary: basketball player!ony unknowingly gave his teammates a sneak peak of what life was like at home with you…

cw: smut, back scratching, cuts, mentions of blood/bleeding, ony picking on underclassmen

word count: 1.3k

“fuck man what happened t’you?”

the chuckles and gasps of his teammates made ony’s face full with confusion as he turned around from his locker. they had just finished a hard practice, the events from the past three hours leaving each of the men with glistening wet bodies as they cooled off and changed into their regular clothes.

for some reason, ony’s back has been acquiring a slight sting as the drills got more and more intense. constant sentences of “you good o?” and “do you need to see a trainer” were thrown his way by his coaches as everyone watched the star basketball player’s body move uncomfortably in his practice jersey.

“i’m good coach, jersey just scratchin me a lil” he replied before continuing on with his workout, ignoring the prickly pain for the remainder of the practice.

as he reached the locker room, ony made quick work of removing his “itchy jersey”, sighing as his back was instantly relieved from any discomfort. his sigh brought the attention of the second captain, and his good friend, eren.

“fuck man, what happened t’you” he chuckled, drawing attention towards the head captain as the rest of his teammates began to laugh. “ooouu”’s and “oh shit”’s began to be released all over the locker room as ony just stared at everyone in confusion. “fuck y’all laughing at?” he mumbled, a smirk growing on his face as he turned around fully to see what was funny. “you look like you got attacked by some typa animal or sum” one of his teammates said, making the darkskin male even more confused as he looked himself over repeatedly.

“what you mean, i’m bleeding or sum?” as he spoke, his dark eyes raked up and down his front, checking his arms and the back of his legs as well to try to understand what they were talking about. eren rolled his eyes in annoyance, grabbing his friend by the shoulders before walking him towards the toilets. “look bro” he mumbled before turning ony’s back towards the mirror for him to see.

his jaw nearly touched the ground as ony realized the reason for his pain earlier. there were scratches on top of scratches all over his back. the red, wounded skin probably getting irritated by his sweat and the feeling of his jersey rubbing against it during the practice. “oh shit” he mumbled, earning laughs all around the room as he looked at the different marks he had. “ion know if i should be happy or concerned furreal. i just know your girl be fighting for her life”

ony rolled his eyes at his friends comment, lightly punching his chest before making his way back to his locker to finish changing. “man that girl is fine. and for the three little niggas in the back that think ion know you be in her dms, talking about how you ‘don’t understand what she see’ in me.” as he spoke, he made sure to make direct eye contact with the three freshman boys that have been going to war in your dms, the three of them staring back at him with wide eyes as they tried to hide behind each other. ony just smirked, his pearly white teeth making an appearance as he continued on with his statement.

“let this be a little taste of one of the many things she ‘sees’ in me, and until you get a shorty to see that in you, stay out my wife phone.” the locker room erupted with laughter. some of his fellow upperclassmen clapping while others dapped him up. the younger men gave their friends sorry looks before carrying on with getting dressed, embarrassment running through them. after things began to quiet down ony make quick work of throwing on his nike tech, without a shirt since the tight fit would irritate his back, and his pajama pants before heading towards his car, the previous nights events replaying in his mind as he drove with a smirk.

“ohmygodohmygod i can’ttt!” you whined, your arms wrapped securely around your boyfriends neck as he pounded you into the wall of your bedroom. ony’s wide hands were spread on the bottom of your thighs, his deep voice caressing your ear as he fed you all of his inches. “can’t what mama? can’t watch y’mouth or can’t take this dick?” his hips moved harder, your pretty brown eyes loosing focus as you screamed out at the newfound angle he was fucking you in. your eyes began to water with salty tears as you tried your best to take everything he was giving you, “n-neither.”

ony moved his head from the crook of your neck, giving you a dissatisfied look as he tightened his grip on your thighs. “don’t play wit me….not when i can easily have you like this.” at the sound of his last word, ony pulled your legs up a little higher, opening you up more for him to lightly graze your cervix. you wailed at the feeling, fat tears sliding down your cheeks as you began to run your stiletto nails down his broad back. ony payed the action no mind, hips never faltering as he continued to pound into you. “okay okay okayyyy m’sorry furreal now pa” your quick change in attitude brought a satisfied smirk to your lovers face, his brown lips parting as he brought them back to your neck.

“thas my good girl. you too pretty t’be doin allat cussin, right baby?” your walls fluttered at the sound of his voice. the words sliding off his tongue were like butter and you couldn’t help but reply, your words coming out whiny and broken as you tried your best to hold in your release. “s’r-right daddy” you pushed out, it took all of your focus just to say two words and your boyfriend could tell. by the way you were gripping and scratching his back, squeezing your thighs in his hold, and clenching your walls around him ony could tell that all it took was a couple more thrusts to have you cumming all over him. and since you realized your mistake he had no problem letting you.

ony finished his assault on your neck, his lips leaving dark purple marks all over the sensitive skin as he moved his face towards yours. low brown eyes staring into glassy rolled ones as your man slowly stepped from the wall. he moved towards the bed, never missing a stroke as he laid you down on the silk sheets. he left it to you to wrap your legs around him while he fucked you and you instinctively did so, stoking you deeply at a steady pace. “oh my g- ony m’gonna cum…y-you’re gonna make me cum” your eyes welded at the feeling, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as you dug your sharp nails into his back, dragging them down his dark brown skin.

“let me have it ma, cum all on this dick wit that pretty pussy” at his words you broke, tears falling from your eyes as you let everything go. your vision blurred and your body tightened, nothing but broken whines leaving your lips as you came. ony finished at the same time, sinking deeper and deeper into you as he released his hot, sticky ropes into your walls. “thas my good girl”

a devilish smirk was on ony’s face as he drove now, his dick twitching in his pants as he thought of you. the way you’d moan his name, the sight of your pretty eyes practically begging him to give you all he had, the feeling of your milky white stilettos running down his back. ony couldn’t stop himself from picking up his speed as he drove, one hand holding the steering wheel in a tight grip as the other palmed and rubbed his aching dick. he couldn’t wait to get home and do it all again.

#aot x black reader #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black!reader #aot smut #onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon x black reader #ony x black reader #onyankapon x reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x black!y/n #aot onyankopon x black!reader #aot onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon x black y/n

3K notes · View notes

saiidahyunie · 3 months

Text

pole position

f1 racer!park jihyo x fem!reader || smut

synopsis: what better way to celebrate your racer girlfriend’s first f1 win with a special victory gift from you.

wc: 9.3k

warnings: smut!!! ; almost caught fucking in the van (and elevator) >.< ; edging ; thigh riding ; pussy slapping ; cursing ; mentions of food ; jihyo just being a top ; anything else i should add for a heads up?

a/n: happy birthday to the best leader and one of the most ambitious women i have ever seen in my life. (lowk double triple quadrouple tag teaming w sana momo tzuyu and mina in bias wrecking me)

it seemed like a neverending rush of adrenaline overloading your senses.

luckily, the racing team had accommodated you with noise canceling headphones to save your eardrums from the chaotic noises occurring in the paddock behind you. the low whir of these twenty million spaceship rockets built for the ground to defy physics, along with the many people clamoring over the noises of drills and terms you’ve only heard about for about eight months.

yet, your eyes were glued to the tv screen, watching the broadcast of the race as it neared its thrilling conclusion.

you’ve read the narrative before; park jihyo, your girlfriend, was on the verge of clinching her first ever world championship title for jyp racing in the last race of the regular season. all she needed was to accumulate a few more points and she would have it—or better yet, just win the whole damn race entirely.

on the screen, her car was behind two others in front of her, twisting past another chicane before the track rolled out into a small straight in the second sector of the street circuit. this was the second to last lap, and you could hear the crowd roar in excitement from the grandstands across from you.

in a swift move, jihyo manages to find a gap between the two cars, slotting herself right in to take first position in the long straight. the wheel to wheel contact between other two racers now in her rear view mirror now making up for lost time while jihyo was now running away with the race.

“holy shit!” you hear one of the racing team owners yell out after witnessing the flashy move jihyo did to overtake the two racers in front of her.

“she’s gonna do it oh my god, she’s gonna fucking do it!” nayeon says to you, furiously tapping your shoulder while jeongyeon ran towards the screen to see what had happened.

“what a ballsy move, the racing coaches are losing their shit over it!” jeongyeon yells out as the sound of her car zooms past the grandstand and paddock at light speed.

the other two racers, momo and sana, along with the fourth just trailing behind in tzuyu, were now fighting for second and third. you walk back to the tv screen overhanging the spot where the car was at before the start of the race, seeing that jihyo was following along her own driving line with so much precision—she had the fastest time in qualifying the day before, so there was no surprise that she’d be in first place at the end of all of this.

the pit crew members start to run out to the main track, cheering on for jihyo as she zooms past the starting grid, checkered flag waving from the steward while the whole venue erupted in excitement for their new f1 racing champion.

a victory lap later and you see jihyo with the other three trailing racers make it back to the grid, getting out of her car being mauled by the pit crew members and camera workers. she takes her helmet off, along with the brace that keeps her attached to her seat, waving her hair that was glistening in the lights, making her more ethereal to look at than she already was in that racing uniform.

momo and sana walk up to her, exchanging kind regards and joking amongst each other of how well they each did up until the last quarter miles on the track.

“y/n!”

you turn your head to see tzuyu, jihyo's racing teammate approach you. she’s been a really close friend with you, nayeon, and jeongyeon before she started racing in f1. you and her actually were on the same racing team back in your days with f2, before stepping away from the racing scene entirely to prioritize on other things that needed cultivating.

“that was some nice driving in your second year of competing tzu.” you say, hugging her tightly as nayeon and jeongyeon jumped at you two in the tender moment.

tzuyu raises her helmet in the air, smiling at the crowd as well as the surrounding people near you two before being swept away by her racing team pit crew, “i’ll see you guys at the after party!”

“ahh i’m so excited!” nayeon exclaims, walking past momo and sana’s cars towards jihyo's, who was still getting a well of congratulations from fellow drivers. a guard whispering in her ear that makes her head turn to you three approaching her. a smile is spread across her face as you begin to start running toward your girlfriend.

she sets her helmet in the cockpit of her car, running at the same pace like yours before she jumps into your arms, spinning her around for a second while getting high on the scent of her hair filling your nose. jihyo meets your eye, the small height difference due to her being lifted off the ground by you before leaning in for a well deserved kiss to commemorate her victory.

“congrats babe, you’re officially an f1 champion.” you mumble against her lips, smiling into the kiss more, not giving any mind to the flashing cameras catching you two.

setting her down for another hug, she’s laughing, tears in her eyes, just clearly enjoying the moment that still hasn’t hit her yet.

“oh my god- oh my god.” jihyo chokes out, running her hand through her hair as the noise of the cheers completely drowns everything out.

once everything had calmed down and everyone on the grid had migrated to the podium part that was off the track, you stood to the side along with nayeon and jeongyeon—along with the pit crew members as you watched jihyo raise the trophy to mark the illustrious ending to a fantastic racing season. she’s handed a bottle of champagne that she pops open, spraying it in the crowd below and along with momo and sana, who both finished second and third respectively.

a perfect night indeed, all it needed was the after party activities.

“what am i supposed to do against the fact that jihyo’s car is just a couple seconds faster than mine?” tzuyu asks, walking alongside you with your hands snaked around jihyo’s waist. she was out of her racing attire, wearing a sleek cropped leather racing jacket that showed off her midriff so well and apparently to you–the jacket was part of a new collaboration that she was a part of but didn’t say what it was about.

“it’s not the car, it’s the driver’s intuition to read the track and find the best line for yourself possible.” jihyo says, dropping a hint of knowledge to tzuyu who closes her eyes, accepting the information without putting up an argument.

“y/n would’ve been your rival if she got the call up to one of the other racing teams.”

you eye jihyo who looks down with her eyes closed, a small dimple peeking through that gives you an urge to kiss her cheek impulsively, gripping her side while doing so. it had been a while since you and jihyo had quality time to spend together. now that the season is pretty much over, nothing could hold you back to being with her–no early morning team meetings, no racing sim sessions, just you and jihyo together.

“if i did that, i wouldn’t have met jihyo in the first place.” you say to tzuyu, jihyo tapping your shoulder, blushing at the notion of you being a possible racer going against her, but luckily that wasn’t the case since you were already a long way out from getting a shot for a racing team.

“we could be rivals to lovers if you wanted to! you should’ve! you would’ve made some solid competition.” jihyo says to you, tapping your shoulder again, making you pull her waist closer to you that gets her flustered.

jihyo was reeled in by the way you were adamant with how you showed your affection towards her. those quick glances before entering the cockpit before the race, and even both of your guys’ lockscreens shared a picture of you kissing her helmet as a sign for good luck—knowing that you were already proud of her for what she’s accomplished so far.

intimate moments were always special with jihyo, but since she was now a big time racer and you had her slip under your race lights, she had little to no time for you since this was a make or break season for her racing career–luckily enough, she saw it through in the end.

“i think if i were to race for a team, it would have to be with jihyo, not against.” you chuckle at the end as the five of you reach a designated car that was assigned to take you guys for a post race meal that left your stomachs rumbling.

“y/n and i call the backseats!” jihyo yells out, hand snaking to your hips before she grabs your hand to enter in the fourth row of the van. everyone else followed suit to take the seats in front of you two once inside.

if there was anything about jihyo that you were aware of, it was that the moment you incited anything sexual with her, it would always lead to disaster.

clearly, you had a thing for disasters.

the last time you and jihyo had time to yourselves was after the monaco grand prix. you and her had an argument before the race that lit a fire under jihyo because of how sexually frustrated you became—this caused jihyo to finish on the podium which was a much needed placement in second just behind momo. if she finished third or below, it would’ve put her out of championship contention until the next couple races before las vegas.

after the race, jihyo completely ignored her teams celebratory dinner because she needed to set you straight for getting her horny in a do or die situation. needless to say the morning after, she was well relieved knowing that she fucked you good like there was no tomorrow.

since then, you two haven’t hooked up since—that was three months ago.

the van strolls down the street, the bright lights of the casinos and hotels illuminating through the windows, passing small rays of light to each row evenly.

jihyo catches you through the side of her eye, leaning over for a quick peck to your cheek that makes you giddy, her smiling lips against your face as she pulls you closer, pulling your face away before she could get her lips on them again.

“you’re so concentrated on me now, are you sure you didn’t think about me while you were on the track?” you ask playfully.

jihyo shakes her head, hands still hooking to your waist, forehead against your cap as she laughs again.

“hey, i don’t want to see you guys do anything funny back there.” jeongyeon warns, the light from her phone screen flashed towards you two, causing you to put your hands up to block it.

“we’re not jeong,” jihyo laughs out, grinning at the pair of eyes staring at her in the darkness. “i just missed my girlfriend, that's all.”

“you two have been extra touchy since we got in the car, i’m sure something’s going on.”

“why don’t you just focus on giving directions to the driver for dinner?” you blurt out, tossing your cap towards the front of the car, accidentally hitting nayeon in the back of the head.

“ow! what the hell was that for?!” nayeon yells out, clutching the back of her head in pain.

“sorry, it’s dark in here.” jihyo adds, the whole car laughing out before calming down just seconds later.

you lean back on the seat, eyes on jihyo again. feasting on the eye candy next to you with the racer jacket in all of its glory. her top just stopped a little bit before her abs that were clearly present, the small belly button piercing gleaming in the darkness from the light reflected off of it. you were staring, but jihyo knew that she was attractive.

jihyo scoots next to you, snaking your arm around her hip, nestling herself on your chest and closing her eyes after, descending into the seat more.

“you know,” you whisper to her ear, “i gave the recommendation to put you on the medium soft tires at around lap 30.”

jihyo looks up at you, astounded with what you said, “i was wondering why my car was feeling a little bit lighter after that pit stop.”

you hum against her temple, planting another kiss, “you wanted to keep the hard tires? just make it harder for yourself?”

she chuckles softly, fingers sliding on your neck as every touch that was grazed on your skin felt like electricity to you.

“maybe you wanted something softer…” tension suddenly giving way through your hooded eyes.

jihyo picks up on this and she knows.

“are you talking about soft tires or?”

“i’m talking about this.” you answer her with a whisper, leading her hand under your shirt, only for jihyo to realize that you weren’t wearing a bra under at all that makes her gasp in surprise.

“someone’s a little bold today.” jihyo mutters against your ear, sending chills down your spine as she fondles with your left boob for a bit, pinching the bud of your nipple as the neediness crept through your body like wildfire.

“aren’t you gonna show me how to handle this?” you ask, kissing her temple again before nibbling on her earlobe, jihyo stifling a moan by biting her lip to keep quiet. “i know you want the same thing to happen like in monaco, and you’re gonna give it to me.” you order in her ear.

jihyo was a ticking time bomb when it came to moments like these. the only thing that was on your mind now was how long could she hold out until you two reach the hotel room?

jihyo slides her hand down from your waist to the button of your pants, undoing it with ease with her fingers that makes you giggle a bit, impressed with her sleight of hand.

“don’t tell me you’re not wearing panties under here too?” she whispers in your ear, answering her own question when the pads of her fingertips feeling the lacy piece of garments below, realizing that this wasn’t a usual pair that you wore.

“a little something for you, but you’re gonna have to wait till we get to the suite.” you mumble victoriously—a big mistake as jihyo slides her two fingers over your pulsing core, causing your breath to hitch from the contact, closing your legs a bit to prolong the sensation a little bit more before jihyo stops at your clit.

“let’s not get caught now shall we?”

you were breathless, in the back of a van, with people in front of you, and your girlfriend teasing you at the tips of her fingers—all of this was your doing in the first place.

“jih–fuck you’re—”

“you know how fast our cars were going, imagine if you were against the crash fence and the wind sweeps under?”

this woman, will be the death of you.

“don’t get me tempted now, you still have something for me to show later right?” jihyo mutters against your neck before sliding down to your soaked panties, seamlessly pulling it to the side before slipping a finger in your pussy that makes you gasp out loudly.

“everything okay back there?”

you place your hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet from moaning, jihyo lets out an ‘uhh’ before answering, “y/n just dropped something here, i’m picking it up.” a clear lie as she continues her long middle finger inside you, hips gyrating to add more spice to the movement that’s keeping your lips parted.

“so pretty for me…” jihyo licks your neck, making your shiver in the seat, “when you’re like this.”

fuck, this was going a lot more better than you expected.

the soft heavy, breaths fill the cushioned interior of the van as it drives in the late night. jihyo was unrelenting by stimulating you, rubbing your cilt in addition to her finger pumping inside. your pulsing is starting to quicken at your core, thighs slightly shaking knowing that your high was nearing, but you used everything you had to not let that happen.

jihyo realizes this, and she too wants this to be saved for later. so she slips her hand out from your panties, perfect timing as the van reaches its destination—a shabu place that was recommended by nayeon. mouths needed to be fed, but yours and jihyo’s were craving for a different meal in mind.

as the van pulls up to the parking lot, jihyo jumps at you in the seat, lips crashing against hers. you cup her cheeks, jihyo’s hands get tangled in your hair, both of you are matching the same energy and destitution. tongues swiping each other like a sword fight, gripping her leather jacket as your other hand snakes to her neck.

she’s fast, she’s needy and my god you need her to be like this with you more often.

you two hear the van stop in parking gear, and jihyo pulls away, looking towards the front to see that everyone in the rows ahead were starting to get their stuff and head outside. the both of you sit up, hands scrambling to have everything look presentable to the best extent before stepping out.

jihyo exits the van, letting out a sigh while meeting with nayeon, jeongyeon, and tzuyu outside.

“what happened with y/n?” tzuyu asks at the sight of you stepping out, cheeks clearly stained with a blush of pink, hair tosuled with your hat at an angle, and the worst part of all, your pants were unbuttoned for the whole world to see.

“oh, she just got a little car sick, that's all.” jihyo replies swiftly, making you lean over to sell the act. “i don’t think we’ll be able to eat with you guys tonight.”

the small group groans out, unhappy with the shock announcement as you faked a clear cough, grasping at your stomach with one eye closed.

“sorry guys,” you huff out. “i think being in the back row was a terrible idea for us.”

terrible. you’re clearly mistaken, it was the best fucking idea to nearly get caught by your closest friends in a moving car getting edged to oblivion.

“alright, we’ll see you back at the airport y/n, make sure you get some rest.” nayeon says, patting your shoulder in comfort while faked being woozy, nearly losing your balance. jihyo catches you, letting out a small laugh once she set up upright.

“so silly of you to be on your phone the entire ride baby.” jihyo coos out, rubbing your face, enjoying the pampering that she’s giving you with both of her hands tapping your cheeks.

“can we go now?” you say, tugging at jihyo’s racer jacket with the most babyish face you could ever pull out of your ass—all for the lie you think, but jihyo plays along just well.

“okay okay, we’ll see you guys soon okay?!” jihyo asks the trio of girls in front of you guys, waving as the both of you walk back to the van.

“get better y/nnnnn!” tzuyu yells out before you wave back at them with both eyes closed, jihyo escorting you to the seat before mashing her face with yours again.

“such,” jihyo mumbles against your cheek, “a naughty girl for me.” pulling away with an audible smooch.

“you wanted your gift? i think you’ll like what i have for you.”

“i can hardly wait.”

jihyo’s assault on your body picks up right where it left off on the swift ride back to the hotel. luckily, your chauffeur was walled off in the front of the car with a soundproof window that was rolled all the way up—this meant the moans you’ve been holding back earlier could now be let out to its fullest content to jihyo’s ears with ease.

she starts by pinning you on the chair, hands snaking up under your shirt to clasp at your breasts. her hands weren’t the biggest, but they fit on your chest oh so perfectly as she massages them, earning another moan through your lips against hers.

“fuck ji–ah!”

“shhh, save it for the room baby.”

oh she’s getting you race ready. i mean, that’s the name of her game after all.

your lips clash again, hands splayed on her back, stripping the unreleased racer jacket off of her to reveal a simple black tank top underneath—a tight fitted one that made jihyo’s boobs a lot more bigger than they originally were. this catches your eye, causing to pull away, biting her lip and tugging at it as your hands slide up against the skimpy fabric keeping her boobs hostage.

“my my world champ, you had these under your uniform and jacket the whole time?”

“i know you love my boobs baby, they’re always there for you to grab a feel.”

indulging was something that you were always good at, jihyo just waved the green flag for you to slide your hands up even further, thumbs bruising over her clothed nipple as you heard her breath hitch at the slightest touch at them.

despite laying on the seat, you found it paramount to return the same sort of pleasure in your position to jihyo as much as you could, leaning up to plant your lips at her neck, slightly nibbling at it while your hands kept themselves occupied by massaging her tits.

“ngh, y/n baby…” jihyo says, her head dips even deeper next to yours, continuing to mark her up, making up for lost time like her qualifying races to get the highest placement before race day.

“let me work you up too, relax.” you groan against her neck, causing her to whimper at the feeling of your lips sliding down her neck to the outfaced bone of her clavicle. while that was happening, you lift your leg up, shifting it over to her ass, your thigh pressing against her core through her jean shorts, making her moan against your ear that might’ve made you cum right then and there from the sound.

jihyo then stops you from sucking away from her neck to the point that she might have to have a better cover when her race coach kangin asks about it the next time she sees him, tapping your shoulder to lay your head back, crashing her lips with yours again, pecking left and right until the van does sudden stops and turns.

the both of you start to sit up, jihyo having the higher position, looking at the window to only realize that they’ve made it back to the hotel that you and her were staying at. she gets off of your body, grabbing her racing jacket and zipping it up to cover the action that was happening below her neck as damage control.

you fix your appearance as well, fixing your shirt and hat to make it look more presentable once the van comes to a complete stop and the both of you calm down from the second round of ‘whatever the hell this game of playing: who’s gonna break first from kissing, sucking, and getting the other person horny first’ stepping out of the van and into the lobby with hands twined with each others.

you’ve watched jihyo zoom past the track during the qualifying race the day prior to get first place against the nineteen best drivers in the world, but this woman who's leading you by the hand through the hotel lobby might have just set a new record full stop with how fast the two of you walked from the van to the elevator in record time.

if you were to look back at this night and one were to ask what happened on the way to the room? you’d say that it’s the vaguest gray area in your memory that you’ve probably had ever really. you and jihyo share a laugh at you almost slipping in your chunky converse shoes in contrast to jihyo’s boots, her hand on your waist while yours was hovering just above her butt. the elevator greeted you with no visitors–a perfect setting for the prelude of tonight’s prime time events that you’ve waited for so long.

“so no more races for the time being right?” you ask jihyo, her back turned to yours tapping on the panel to the floor of your room.

“for now, but i do want to have a joyride session on that track outside the city.” jihyo answers, scratching her head now facing you, before you pull her in for a hug, jihyo shifts herself again so that she’s now facing the elevator door.

the metal box continues to ascend up slowly to the level–the highest level of the hotel to be exact, all part of your plan to keep jihyo’s motor running.

jihyo exhales out, a hint of tiredness peeking as she rubs your hand with her thumb, humming along with the soft jazzy music that was coming out of the small speaker on the top right of the elevator wall. you lean your head to her right side, blowing air to the side of her face that makes her chuckle at the intimate action.

“you know,” you whisper, “i overhead that you were almost told to give the position back to momo after backing out on her challenge on turn 11.”

“but i didn’t.” jihyo replies, “the officials looked over that contact play thoroughly and i just kept my ground. sana caught up to us though and eventually i fell behind after oversteering one corner.”

“and you still won.” you say, pressing a kiss to her neck.

jihyo sighs out after closing her eyes, and she might just fall asleep with you right then and there.

“since you didn’t give up the position, i’ll give you something else.” you mumble against her ear, hands snaking up to hold her tits under her jacket.

“oh? and what that might be that you plan on giving me?”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at her oblivious question, playing along to your act in this whole script that was devised in your head, a perfect ending–consider this to be the ninth symphony of beethoven’s repertoire.

jihyo was five lights away glowing red and you pushed the crushing blow–the green light that jihyo has been waiting for all night.

“i’ll give you my lips.”

jihyo smiles with her teeth out to the world behind you, turning you around, lips on yours again for what seems to be the infinite time tonight, but this lip lock was more serious. pure lust had taken over jihyo like the adrenaline that rushed in her veins while racing earlier.

your back makes contact with the wall behind you, her leg slots itself in between yours, pressing against your core as a get back for the same thing you did to her in the van, earning a moan into her lips that just simply upped the ante within jihyo.

she pulls away eyes hooded, breaths matching together and they’re fucking heavy. the pace was overwhelming to jihyo’s resurgence in sexual frustration—to be fair, you were the one to start things in the first place so this shouldn’t come as a shock to you.

in a millisecond of being off guard, jihyo forces herself on you, pinning your wrists to the wall, whining at the sudden grip your girlfriend was giving you, her mouth slashing at the new territory claimed with her tongue leading the charge.

retreating with a ‘pop’ of the lips, followed by another quick peck with a slight tug at the end before making her way down to your neck for another bombardment of marks awaiting your flesh.

“j-jihyo, y-y-you—fuck!”

a clear ‘mmph’ could be heard as jihyo sucks away at your neck, smiling against it as she develops a steady rhythm. a bite here followed by a suck, and another bite followed by a second suck to soothe it.

“you gave me the green light, so don’t back down now.” jihyo mutters against your neck, the scent of your expensive perfume filling her nose and taste buds.

letting out a laugh with a moan mixed into your vocal chords, jihyo continued her work for what seemed like ages, only for her to stop to kiss you again as the elevator dings loudly, indicating that you two have reached the level that your hotel room was at. jihyo steps away from you, leaning back a bit to admire the damage that she had inflicted upon your face and neck—for now.

she then takes your hand, leading to where your room was a few steps away from the lounging area that was across from the set of elevators. you catch a couple glimpses of your reflections and you smile at your devious but perfectly executed plan.

your hat was the only thing covering your disheveled hair, lips were puffy swollen, and the marks. the marks. ‘jesus christ’ was the thought exactly at the sight of your neck being spread evenly out with red and the appearance definitely made you feel the way that it should.

a quick swift of the keycard over the lock and you usher jihyo inside the room that you two were staying at. housekeeping did their handiwork cleaning up the room; the king size bed neatly made with all of the assorted bags left untouched on the right side where the tv was hanging.

jihyo slides off her racer jacket, setting it on the chair while you went to the bathroom to freshen yourself up a bit while jihyo relaxed on the edge of the bed, discarding her boots by kicking them off under the desk. she then leans back, her head looking up to the ceiling above, her eyes closed in complete relaxation after a full day of logistical racing from the moment she got up from the bed this morning.

surely that team dinner would be postponed until probably tomorrow given how tired jihyo was, right?

(that tiredness would suddenly wash away when you stepped out the bathroom.)

she sees you leaning against the wall, nothing except the lacy panties that jihyo felt back in the van earlier on the way to the shabu place. your back was arching away from the wall with your ass still pressed against it, forming a figure in the low light emulating from the lamp behind.

this image of you in front of jihyo had her salivating, lips parted with a small creeping beneath it as you made your way to the bed’s edge. her hands wrapping around your exposed waist, with your hands nestling themselves at her neck. jihyo was still speechless, eyes widened to the max while you prompted her hands to roam freely as they pleased–now with the proper privacy, there was nothing holding her back from ravishing you.

“somebody’s a little preoccupied.”

jihyo looks up at you, her pupils dilated at the sight of you towering over her for a moment.

“fuck you’re so pretty.” jihyo responds, leaving a chaste kiss to your midsection, arms pulling you closer to her so that she can indulge more in your body.

there’s something about the way her hands move, finding the right spots across your abs and back for you to let out a hitched breath or a sound of approval from your lips, lightly nipping away at the skin that was left unmarked from earlier on the way back that wasn’t your neck or face. her reactions were stupid fast when it came to racing, but now she was taking her time. scouting the valleys and curves on your body, just below your breasts.

“who said that you could stop?” you giggled, initiating a squeeze from jihyo the second after, feeling your perky mounds to her own volition.

“can’t believe you’re so perfect for me like this.” jihyo husks out, eliciting a soft moan to leave your mouth, dipping your head to give a kiss on the top of her head. you then tap her shoulders twice, stopping her movements. stepping away to get something from the mini fridge that was hidden away next to the main dresser, a bottle of rare champagne that would probably be worth half of jihyo’s salary, so you bought it under her name for this special occasion.

“aw for me?” jihyo pouts, “if this was your celebratory gift i think we should just call it a night then.”

“obviously not,” you say, “what do you take me as?”

“i don’t know, maybe you’re just a stranger who’s staying in my room with me.”

“we’re celebrating your first world championship, just with my own little twist to it.” you respond, cracking the bottle open and handing her a glass that was filled to the brim for her to drink.

“uh y/n, you know i can’t finish this right?”

“oh i know,” you say, “i just have other uses for that.” jihyo then takes a quick swig of the rare-aged champagne, sighing out after downing nearly half the glass in one gulp, giving it back for you to finish the rest before placing it down on the table.

jihyo doesn’t pick up on this until the very last second, the sight of you straddling her with the bottle of champagne, her hands finding themselves holding you at the hips. you lean down for another lip lock with jihyo again, her fingers clutching down your pelvis trying to get something started. the heat is rushing down all over your body, a growing sensation from below building up, it took everything in your body to not feed into jihyo’s desire.

you pull away to see jihyo’s dilated pupils, yours was doing the same. the heavy breaths were not helping as the tension rose in the space between you two once again. you give her another kiss before leaning back, raising the bottle a little bit over your chest, spilling the expensive alcohol over your body. jihyo doesn’t react to this either, she was too attracted to your image at the moment–the marks on the neck and chest, the way you were above jihyo with a gaze that made you ten-thousand times hotter than she initially thought. it was an overload, but you finally gave her the edging push that broke down her self control.

“taste me baby, i need to be cleaned up anyway…”

jihyo doesn’t hesitate for a single second, diving right in immediately after you said that, dragging her tongue across your chest, before kissing in between the middle part where your cleavage was. bathing in sweet champagne wasn’t an idea you were forward with, but clearly jihyo was loving the whole act you were putting on for her.

“fuck jihyo–ah!” you moaned out while jihyo gave out satisfying lick after satisfying lick, leaving no spot open. she then changes the ante, taking your erected nipple and closing her mouth over it.

she continues this for a couple more minutes, a trail of pecks across your body as jihyo continues to mark her territory.

“is this ‘mmph–” jihyo mumbles in between kisses, “my prize?”

“i’m all yours for tonight hyo, ruin me.”

jihyo scans your body once more, deciding what to do first with you before instinctively forcing your hips down to her thigh. your core making contact with the skin that makes you yelp in surprise. this also didn’t help that jihyo lifted her leg up a bit, shifting your hips in a back and forth motion that makes you groan–longing for more, biting your lip as jihyo revels at the heavenly sounds that she’s hearing.

“you like grinding your pussy on my thigh like that baby?”

“jihyo you’re such a–”

she shuts you up with a kiss, making you release a low whimper as you grind against her toned leg with your clothed cunt.

“keep moving and don’t stop.”

fuck.

your eyes catch jihyo licking her first two fingers, placing it upright against her leg where your pussy was making contact, sliding along your folds through the fabric—hips buckling at the angle that she made her fingers curve a bit, teasing you till the very end.

“you really want me inside that badly huh?” jihyo asks, the neediness clouding your head at the sound of her low voice. “so fucking wet for me after your little stunt in the van?”

yeah, you’re so fucked tonight.

jihyo raises her middle finger above the others as the throbbing doubles in an instant. your head leans back as jihyo kisses your clavicle—your senses now overloading as you rode her finger which were now ripping away at you, her other hand moving your hips, shaky breaths petering out while jihyo circles your clit.

she watches you with a feasting intent, the lust oozing through as you fuck yourself on her thigh, unclasping her bra with just one hand while keeping her eyes on you. she then positions her thumb where your clit was landing, now pressing against it when you’re dragging your hips on her

“fuck fuck fuck–”

“yeah, i know you couldn’t resist fucking my fingers.”

“god, jihyo you– shit”

“mhm,” jihyo hums out, “you’re so close baby.”

you curse out, basically shouting to nearby hotel guests staying on the floor. the words wobbling out of your mouth as jihyo worked your lower body. the desperation was there—all jihyo just needed to was force it out of you, in this case she did. you squirmed under her touch, gasping at the sensation with your stomach churning away in pleasure.

jihyo withdraws her hand away from the problem that’s bothering you between your legs, making you whine, the sound almost like a confused kid that got their toy taken away after being in trouble. snickering at your act, you slap her shoulders lightly, playfully complaining as jihyo kisses you again to calm down.

“you’re so-”

“i’m giving you what you want, no? jihyo goes for another kiss.

she isn’t wrong.

“i thought you said that you were going to be my special present for tonight?”

you nod.

“that’s what i thought, now relax for me babe.”

god. you are so done for.

the pillows behind jihyo are met with your back against them, switching the places between you two as she crawls up your body, her knees between your legs as she leaned down for another kiss, hair getting tangled through your fingers, jihyo continuing her assault on your face and body with her lips.

“i’m gonna treat you good okay?”

you whimper in agreement, nodding your head as jihyo lowers her gaze, a smirk plowing through as she runs her hand on your face, cheeks flooded hot pink, placing her lips on your neck again before trailing down your body very slowly.

jihyo is satisfied with how you are under her touch, but she always, always wants more for herself. her lips find themselves on your breasts again like earlier, returning the attention to your nipples while massaging your soft mounds. she knows that you’re gonna give into her desires—there’s no point in putting up a fight against her (you did the same thing to her back in monaco, but now the roles were reversed.)

mindlessly putting a hand to the back of her head, jihyo notes this, canvassing your body with her lips in every corner that she could possibly touch. she’d seen you model for underwear brands and daily outfits of the day on your instagram page, but when it came to the bed, jihyo memorized every soft spot there was to discover–she knew how to push your buttons and it showed.

“you know what i want.” you’re practically begging for jihyo at this point.

she happily hums out, ready to fufill the obligation. leaving your boobs down to your waist, trailing lower and lower. you try to look away, eyes shut from the sensing danger—the need to be everso fulfilled immediately. there’s a pause for a few seconds as jihyo hooks her hands to the tops of your thighs, staring at the underwear that you were weaning.

and you just had to look up.

you see her eyes filled with so much lust between your pulsing core, placing a kiss on your inner thigh, shuddering at the contact of her lips, inching closer to the middle, but she stops again with a smirk and you are left breathless.

“i didn’t know you were wearing the unreleased pair today.”

“you still have to post your announcement tomorrow, so i had to remind you somehow.”

jihyo looks away, keeping her eyes on you, rather impressed at the effort you made, especially in a scenario like this.

“i have an idea for the picture already, but i’m gonna need this back.”

her fingers found the elastic waistband of the lacy calvin klein underwear that was keeping your pussy hostage from jihyo’s lips, pulling it down slightly, but it was what she did next that made everything in your body race.

she pulls it down a little bit past your upper thigh, grabbing it with her teeth and pulling it away, her hands sliding down your legs as well in one smooth motion. the satisfaction clearly seen in her eyes once the panties were tossed off to somewhere in the room that won’t be found until sometime in the morning.

this totally won’t come back to haunt you later, right?

you didn’t have to say anything, jihyo makes her way up your inner thighs again, the trail of kisses approaching the sensitive spot as she takes in the aroma of your sex, getting drunk in the sensation of it before placing a kiss to your wetness.

“shit.” you mumble, your teeth catching your lip. whatever worries you had about earlier today or the flight you’re taking back home tomorrow, none of that mattered as jihyo’s instinct to please herself by having you destroyed was all that mattered. jihyo grunts against your heat, the vibrations from your cunt bucking your hips from the contact as her tongue lashes mercilessly inside you.

“fucking hell jihyo you really–fuck!”

the encouragement only pushes jihyo to get more out of you. pressing your legs to her head to lock her down in place, hands on your hips in a better position. “god, please. please.” you’re begging to let go under jihyo’s will, but it won’t be that easy to meet her needs.

“so good jihyo, g-god you’re so g-good nnh”

jihyo detaches her lips from your swollen clit, sliding her finger over your folds, fingertips getting soaked with your seeping liquid. your hips are off the bed, eyes rolling back from the overstimulating feeling of getting edged for the second time. it was all head racking, your voice filled with needy gasps that jihyo finds thrilling—for you to be all dumb for your girlfriend and it really is something to behold about if you’re jihyo.

“fuck me please. i need you, just don’t be a bit-”

jihyo slaps your pussy in retaliation to your needy attitude; the first and only warning you’re getting from her.

“i’m gonna go along as i please, you don’t have a say on whether or not i get to fuck you dumb, i do.”

she doesn’t hesitate after she says that, slapping your pussy again to make you yell at the sharp pain coming from your hips.

“you’re gonna be a good girl for me. before, during, and after i ruin you.”

two fingers slipped inside of you, knowing that you were already primed and ready from jihyo’s bombardment of lips and nipping of your skin regardless if she gave you the heads up or not.

“yes! please, i need more–” you rasp out at the curling fingers of jihyo in your pussy, followed by her lips nibbling away at your clit. she speeds up the motions, building up a consistent rhythm to follow–her own driving line in tearing you up.

there’s no delay for however long jihyo pleased you for her own pleasure. in, out. in and out. she continues to dive right in with her attention to detail, mouth and fingers working in complete cohesion like her pit crew, higher and higher the tempo increases until–

“wait- sh- i’m gonna– i’m gonna– ah i’m gonna—”

your hips drag to the shape of jihyo’s fingers, jumping and twitching—fighting down the moan in her throat until it all comes down the highest apex that jihyo could create.

“yes yes yes– oh my go-ah! i’m cumming!” you could barely manage, and jihyo believes this to be true, eyes widening at the juices flowing down to her mouth, pulling away as she rubs your pussy furiously. “fuck i’m cumming – jihyo i’m cumming—”

“such a good girl y/n; keep cumming for me.”

the climax was well worth the time dragged out, your body still stuttering and sensitive to the touch even after jihyo’s fingers were pulled out from you. your eyes return back to their normal state, as your mouth was still parted open, looking at jihyo examining the slick from you all webbed up on her fingers, laying beside you with a kiss to your cheek and her hand to your mouth.

“suck it off for me baby.”

you don’t say anything but open your mouth, receiving your own taste from jihyo’s fingers as she watches you lick up every spot that was soaked with your cum, giving her a seductive look in her eyes that makes her own cunt throb at the sight of you.

“shit y/n.” jihyo mutters, withdrawing her fingers from your mouth before kissing you sloppily, breaths between you two were still heavy and filled with a sense of hunger that had been there before, but now the desire was raised up to eleven.

“flip over baby, let me see you from behind.” she purrs out, giving you space by getting on her knees while you roll over. your legs were already smoothened like water–belly down, ass up. the desperation for more was there– your body completely reduced to jelly as jihyo felt out your waist, kneading your ass.

there’s a pause for a brief moment, jihyo runs her hand through her hair, taking in the sight of your back all there in its basking glory, biting her lip before leaning down to plant a trail of kisses down your spine, each kiss making you pant more loudly than the last.

“this view never gets old for me you know?” she murmurs, and all you could produce with your mouth was a muffled whine into the pillow. jihyo’s skin makes contact with yours, arching your back slightly as jihyo presses down on the small of your back.

“please baby,” is all you can plead through the covers–the only offering you have to give is your body molded into the mattress.

jihyo would draw out more of your begging, but she knew that she wanted to have more fun with you, slipping inside you again with a single finger to start, letting out a wail while shoving your face into the sheets more to keep it down, but jihyo wasn’t having any bullshit of playing it safe.

dragging her finger out, her other hand reaches for you hair, making you look up–eyes shut with a gasp of air with your legs coming up as well in response to the rough handling of you.

“i thought i told you to be a good girl for me y/n, you don’t get to have the patience for me tonight.”

a sob leaves your lips, with your back arching even more up as jihyo tosses your head back to the mattress looking out to the side—slipping two curled fingers inside, resisting the urge to grab jihyo’s arm to pick up the pace.

“yes yes. oh my gah-” the whines are barely understandable, throwing your hips back to meet jihyo’s hand down the middle. your walls getting more and more slicker with each thrust inching deeper and deeper.

jihyo palms her free hand down on your back, setting you in place. a piton in the rock as a stepping point as your cunt is being stretched by three fingers. “you’re so good when you’re like this.”

you’re saying nonsense, jihyo’s smiling at the image of you getting completely blown out under her ingrained into her head. it’s sloppy, the strokes are getting too much to bear–the sheets are crinkled to the point where it shouldn’t even be on the bed anymore.

“fuck jihyo, please so close– ‘unna cum again–”

jihyo leans forward to your ear, not letting up on the pressure of her three fingers inside of you—shifting your head to meet hers on the left side so that she can hear your huffing moans more clearly. “yeah? i love when you sound like this–all fucked out for me that you’re begging for more?”

don’t stop. please it’s so fucking amazing.

“jih–hngh! please, fuck - its so - ngh, god i ca-”

your lidded eyes meet hers that were burning with lust, throwing your hips back continuously for a couple more seconds, whimpering through your open lips–fervently shaking at jihyo’s fingers giving one more curl at your g-spot, pushing you to the edge.

“mmmph fuck god-”

and just like that, your walls clamp down around jihyo’s fingers–closing your legs from her underhand grip to prolong the feeling. she slides her hands out of your worked cunt, hips shaking even with your ass up in the air before crumbling down to the mattress beneath you.

jihyo gives you some space again, dismounting from your lower thighs, as it took almost the remaining strength you had left to lay upright, the sensation from two orgasms back to back (this was still the beginning of the ‘night’ so there was a lot more in store soon.) the afterglow looked heavenly on you as jihyo laid right next to you, pressing her lips against your jaw while you hummed out despite your disheveled state.

“so pretty…” she whispers to you, meeting your eyes for another sloppy kiss and massages your scalp while your breathing returns to normal. you lean up jihyo’s chest as you close your eyes for a few moments, enjoying the embrace that you’ve missed so much from her until tonight.

“fuck,” you sigh out, still trembling and already fucking sore, but jihyo knew that there was still work to be done with you, and she knew that you were aiming for a fair trade of pleasure.

“you ready to go for another one?” jihyo asks you, rubbing your boob with her finger, grazing your nipple again, lightly pinching it. you stayed still for a second before jihyo would be caught off guard with the surge of control that flowed through your body.

in a split second you flip jihyo over, hovering over her body while you dive back for another kiss, biting her lip again before lowering yourself to her pulse point at the neck, earning a moan of approval from her,

“why don’t you explain to me about the future plans of jyp’s racing team while i eat you out?” you ask in between kisses as you make your way down, keeping your eyes with jihyo’s while sliding off her jorts and panties, raising her legs up in the air–a complete dynamic switch from her being on top of you to sinking into the mattress.

jihyo is left flustered at your request, knowing that her special present for winning the race would have her running laps for the entire night.

a PA system is overheard announcing a departing flight from las vegas to somewhere out in the east coast that was probably a connecting flight, but it wasn’t yours.

“so, i think everything went well with the after party two days ago.” your eyes lock onto nayeon who was sipping away a thai tea drink, scrolling away on her phone while you look at your laptop that showed the picture of jihyo getting drenched in champagne at the podium ceremony.

“i think the hangover is still lingering.” you hear tzuyu say, patting her shoulder out of genuine comfort for your close racing friend. now that the offseason was underway, it was a definite break for the drivers to get the downtime that they so thoroughly deserved after a long season, and before you know it, it’ll come back around again.

“i thought jeongyeon was gonna be with us.” you say to nayeon, looking up from her phone to meet your gaze with those round glasses of her’s that just fit her vibe so well.

“it actually turns out that she met someone at the club last night, so she’s gonna stay with her for another day or two.”

“does her someone have a name?”

“mina, i think.”

interesting news of development from your close circle of friends. speaking of developments–

tzuyu scrolls away on instagram, noticing a picture from jihyo’s profile that made her gasp out in public, a few surrounding people from the seating area behind you three taking notice of her being startled.

“what happened tzuyu?”

“jihyo’s the new ambassador for calvin klein?!”

you act shocked, but you already knew the news and to be fair, you did remind her that night about announcing it.

“really!? let me see.” nayeon asks, tzuyu handing the phone to her for nayeon to have a look, her mouth forming an o in surprise to how she announced it.

once you saw the picture, you didn’t think anything of it–until you got a second glance at what it actually was.

the picture was set in the hotel room, a familiar hotel room. the curtains were parted as the morning after that certain night was a cloudy morning–a perfect backdrop for a spontaneous photoshoot. jihyo stands at the window with her back facing the camera arms raised with the view behind her. she was wearing nothing but the same fucking lacy panties that jihyo drew down your legs with just her teeth. her bare back clearly toned showing in the picture and with a large CK on the corner of the photo.

“how come we didn't see you back at the hotel room y/n?” nayeon asks you, looking at the photo again with tzuyu’s phone in your hand still.

“well...” you try to answer, still thinking about that night–the sounds of grunts and moans filing your head, the sight of jihyo's face completly wrecked at the sight of fucking you before snapping out of it.

“you still haven’t told us what you were doing that night when we were supposed to eat out.”

"i thought i told you guys that ji-"

tzuyu gasps again, but this time in a more quiet manner.

“what is it?” nayeon gasps again at tzuyu’s small scare.

“look what i noticed in the bottom corner of the picture.”

tzuyu points at bottom corner, a small circular mirror on the table. the reflection from that said mirror shows a person wearing a red and black racer jacket with a smile creeping through at the very top of the mirror. their neck riddled with marks all over and the jacket not zipped up, exposing a little bit of their breasts in between.

“i know that smile from anywhere, and that jacket really looks familiar.”

“she’s not even wearing anything under that jacket either!”

the two girls look at you, a beaming smile on both of their faces with the tsunami of questions that they were going to sweep you in.

easy to say that jihyo’s underwear model announcement on her instagram page after winning the formula one championship was nothing more than a simple photo finish.

#jihyo day!!!!!!#saiiidahyunee #twice x reader #kpop x reader #kpop smut #twice smut #twice jihyo #park jihyo #jihyo smut #jihyo x reader #streaming zone until i pass out studying

606 notes · View notes

gisellaswrld · 3 months

Text

i look at you wondering where your mind is at; you’re the first choice in my heart always

bb6 | being selected as a celebrity captain along side your brothers for the nhl all stars games was a situation you never thought of. leading up to the games, you made jack and quinn promise that brock would be the first pick. but after a small fight the morning of the games, you decide otherwise.

a/n this was fun to write and i love brock so much so if you guys want more bb6, please send some requests!! i’ll write a more smutty part two at the request of you guys :)

There were many things you loved that you had to give up due to your brother’s successful hockey careers. Your parents were already stressed out with three boys who all loved hockey, but you added stress on top of that. All your life, you never really enjoyed playing hockey. You played one year, just to prove to your mom you didn’t enjoy it. Ellen took the news with a heavy heart, but decided to give you options of what to pursue next. That’s when the entire Hughes family pinpointed your special talent. It wasn’t hockey, or volleyball, or golf even. It was singing.

After the realization, Ellen quickly found the best talent coach in Michigan for you. Moira, your singing coach, helped you develop the skills necessary for being the next big pop star. Fast forward to now, 20 years old, and you were jumping the charts. After opening on the Era’s tour for Taylor Swift, then the release of your first album Emails I Can’t Send, you were the next big thing. The media loved it all, they ate the news for breakfast.

Every single Hughes child was successful. Ellen and Jim got tons of recognition for raising successful children.

Currently, you resided in Vancouver with your older brother Quinn. Throughout the past years of living with him, you grew to adore his teammate Brock. What started as a friendship between two people who would confide in each other during tough times, blossomed into the dream healthy romantic relationship.

When you received the invitation to be a celebrity coach for the NHL All Stars game, you quickly accepted under one circumstance. That you’d coach alongside your brothers. Of course when the news was released, everyone went wild. On top of that, you got to join one of your close friends Tate as a coach. Tate had reached out one drunken night, asking for either your brother or Brock to fight Cole during a Canucks vs. Blue Jackets game. Since then, your friendship with her was as thick as thieves.

The morning of the All Stars draft had been going smoothly. You made Quinn and Jack to promise to pick Brock first, and they listened. You knew of their planning schemes with some of the other coaches, practically planning the draft before it happened.

You sat on the hotel bed, shoving cereal into your mouth. Brock was showering, getting prepared for the red carpet he had to attend before the draft. He came out, dressed in black pants and a white sweater. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, a curious look forming.

“What happened to your other outfit?” You asked, setting the cereal down on the bed side table. Brock quickly looked up at you, then looked back in the mirror. “Decided not to wear it.” Brock nonchalantly answered.

“Oh?”

“Don’t be like that, doll. It’s not anything crazy. Just figured I’d look more professional.” Brock explained, walking to sit on the bed. You scooted further away from him, a glare settling on your face. “So your first outfit wasn’t professional?” You asked, eyebrows raised.

“Why are you making it a big deal?” Brock’s voice came across aggressive, causing you to scoff. “Because it was your idea? And I was excited to see you wear it.” You stated, quickly getting off the bed.

Brock watched as you gathered your makeup bag and other things needed to get ready for the entire day. You started to head towards the door when you heard his voice again. “Where are you going?”

Your hand clasped the door handle, pulling to door open. “To my brother’s room. I don’t want to deal with you or this right now. Just know you upset me and I’m angry.” You stated, leaving the room quickly.

Quinn and Olivia’s room was a few doors down and you were convinced you’d enjoy being around them more than Brock right now. You knocked loudly, hearing some shuffling before Quinn opened the door. Before he got a chance to speak, you shoved past him, setting your things down.

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked, shutting the door behind him. “Or do I even want to know?”

“Brock made me upset and I don’t want to be around him. I figured Olivia would enjoy having a friend to get ready with.” You answered, looking around for her. The bathroom door quickly opened, Olivia standing in a robe with curlers in her hair. “Y/N!” Olivia smiled.

“Hi Olivia, Brock made me mad. Now I’m here.” You greeted her, a smile on your face. Olivia gasped, crossing her arms. “What did he do?” Olivia questioned. You glanced up at Quinn, who was definitely more curious than Olivia.

“He changed his outfit, so now he isn’t wearing his special shirt.” You stated, shrugging. Olivia’s eyes widened, a scoff falling from her lips. “You mean the shirt he paid like $80 for? The shirt that has your face on it? The one he specifically bought for this?” Questions quickly fell from Olivia’s mouth as disbelief spilled through her tone.

“I’m going to Jack’s. You guys have fun.” Quinn left the room, hearing enough from the story. “Yes that shirt! He said he wanted to be more professional.” You exclaimed, a sad look forming on your face.

“What an asshole!”

You and Olivia finished getting ready, but you had to be at the Scotia Bank Area sooner than her since you were a coach. When you arrived, you were immediately swarmed and overwhelmed by the girls wanting pictures and autographs. You tried your best to speak to everyone and at least hold a conversation with them. Your agent, Thalia, stayed close by. She ensured you were making good time. For one moment she stepped away for a phone call.

“They want you for interviews now, sweet heart.” Thalia informed, ushering you forward. You were led to a room filled with reporters, players, the other celebrity coaches and captains. Once you were spotted by Tate, she quickly ran over to you.

“Oh my gosh! You look so good.” Tate gushed, pulling you into a hug. You smiled, quickly reciprocating the gesture. “Thank you, you look great yourself.” You replied, pulling away.

“I was surprised when Brock was brought back here without you. Are you guys okay?” Tate asked, her voice quiet as reporters were currently interviewing Auston, Morgan, and Justin.

“Got in an argument this morning, so I’m not speaking to him.” You shrugged, ignoring his stares from across the room. “Guess he should be reminded that even though the draft is planned, I can still have a little fun.” You added, a devious smirk on your face.

“You are evil. I love it.” Tate giggled, pinching your shoulder softly. “Oops, gotta go, it’s my turn.” Tate waved, walking over to Cale and Nate. You moved over to your brothers and Elias.

“Pst. Can we wait till after we draft the last Goalie to pick Brock?” You whispered, the plan already forming in your head. Quinn, already knowing of the argument, rolled his eyes. “They got in an argument over his shirt.” Quinn quickly explained.

Elias had a confused look on his face, but let out a sigh. “I guess, but don’t you think that’s mean?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together. “Mean? Sure, but I could be writing a song about him so what’s a little harmless fun?” You answered.

All four boys stared at you, then looked at each other. “If you don’t do it, I’m going to tell mom.” You spoke harshly, staring directly at your brothers. “You know how upset she gets when her brothers don’t listen to her only little princess,”

“Fine, fine. He will go after the goalies. Just don’t tell mom.” Quinn shook his head, slightly annoyed at his sister’s antics. “She’s got a point. Shouldn’t we be sticking up for our sister?” Jack agreed, gesturing towards you.

The rest of the interviews went well, except for when a reporter requested for you to do an interview with Brock. The interaction was tense, only short answers given from the both of you. You were sure the clips would quickly be on Twitter from your fan base, but oh well.

The draft started quicker than ever, the Hughes team getting the chance to pick the first player. You already told Brock that he was the intended first pick, but after deliberating with your brothers and Elias, Nikita Kucherov was going to be your first selection. You requested to be the person to announce it, just to see the look on Brock’s face.

“Team Hughes, are you ready for your first pick?” Jamie asked, looking at the group of four. Everyone nodded, agreeing on their final selection. You took a small step forward, a smile on your face as some fans cheered. “We chose Nikita Kucherov from the Tampa Bay Lightening,” You announced, eyes quickly locking to Brock.

Brock rolled his eyes, running a hand down his face. J.T. Miller nudged him, a curious look on his face. You shook Nikita’s hand, letting him go grab his jersey.

Quinn ended up picking most of his team, along with Brady Tkachuk, Jesper Bratt, and Cam Talbot. After a commercial break, the choice was back to the Hughes Team. You took a step forward, waiting for Jamie to give you the go.

“I guess, we are picking Brock Boeser. Even though he didn’t wear his shirt with my face on it, then was mean to me.” You scrunched your face, watching as Brock skated up while shaking his head.

You held your hand over your microphone as he pulled you into a hug. “You are in trouble, doll.” Brock mumbled in your ear, then promptly skated off to receive his jersey. You had a small smirk on your face, clapping as he received his jersey.

The rest of the event went smoothly, thankfully. Now you were pilled into Uber’s that were driving you to the bar that Auston Matthews rented out for the night. You were squished in between Brock and Elias, uncomfortably squirming in the seat at some of the potholes in the road.

Brock’s arm hung loosely behind your seat, his hand occasionally tugging at loose strands of your hair. To which you’d return a nudge at his side, and he would always react with a low chuckle.

“Scoot over, I know you are uncomfortable.” Brock leaned over to whisper in your ear. Jack was blasting music loudly in the Uber so it wasn’t hard for Brock’s voice to get drowned out by anyone but you.

You glared at Brock, but still scooted over to sit in his lap. “You still mad at me?” Brock continued to speak quietly, his hand squeezing at your exposed thigh.

You nodded, continuing the fun ignoring game you liked to play when you were mad. Brock hated it, despised it actually. Yet, you still did it because Brock would always find a pleasuring new way to deal with your attitude.

“Come on, don’t act like I don’t know what you did. I’m sure you loved convincing your captains to switch the draft order, all over a silly argument.” Brock spoke, tugging at another strand in your hair.

You looked at him in confusion, wondering who snitched to him. “You think Pettersson would keep it from me?” Brock now had an amused expression on his face.

Thankfully the conversation was put on pause as you arrived to the bar. Brock tapped your ass as you pushed open the door. Tonight, your plan was to continue to be angry at Brock, just to catch a reaction out of him. And boy, would it be a fun night.

#nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl blurb #nhl all star game #nhl all star 2024 #quinn hughes #jack hughes #elias pettersson #brock boeser #brock boeser x hughes!sister #brock boeser x reader #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader

386 notes · View notes

ipegchangbin · 4 months

Text

— heavy lifting

sub!gym buddy!changbin x dom!personal trainer!reader | 8.1k words

♡ … sequel to uplifting After Changbin’s gotten too comfortable around the gym, you needed to remind him of his place. You’re his significant other, sure, but you’re still his personal trainer — and his training is only getting even more personal.

❥ gender neutral reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics). smut. fluff. established relationship. pure porn, no plot. ❥ bratty perv changbin. petnames “baby,” “coach,” “rat,” and “bun”/“bunny,” semi-public unprotected sex, anal creampie (reader receiving), fingering (changbin receiving), strength kink (headlock), no specifics about y/n’s physique—but y/n is strong.

📝 happy new year bitch!!! i finally fucking finished The self-indulgent fic!!! header art by ME! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

You and your client — now boyfriend — Changbin were getting ready to go to the gym. Staring at your bathroom mirror together, he flexed his arms as he hugged you close to his body.

One look at the man and you can tell he’s changed.

He’s far from the man you met a year ago, the boy with a thick build that shyly signed you up as his personal trainer. He used to close his big body into itself every time he wasn’t trying to impress you. Shy as he was with you, his crush, Changbin was also confident whenever he had the opportunity to try and make you swoon.

Now that he got you in his arms, you all his and him all yours, he’s a lot more toned now and a lot more open.

You got very clear glimpses of his personality at the gym, but dating him officially was like opening a gate and welcoming yourself into his colorful world. It didn’t take too long to find out that he works as a lifestyle journalist, but it took many months more to find out that his side gig is working as a talent manager for some small-time DJ named CB or something. Whoever that guy is, your boyfriend claims that he’s just as shy as your coworker Chris, hence why he doesn’t show up often.

Changbin opened up more of his life to you just as you gave lots of your life to him. Every date extended from the gym to the cafe next to it, from fancy restaurants in each of your hometowns to humble home-cooked dinners at either his or your apartments. He stutters less and he’s more giggly around you, while you’re definitely not your usual strict self when it comes to cuddles in his bed.

You two allowed your lives to meld into each other and bond, mix in, and create one shared universe that you can both breathe in. He loved you and you loved him and that never seems to end anywhere.

But it all starts at the gym, you figured, and it always goes back there; he hasn’t signed out of being your client and technically still pays you to help him work out.

“Y/N,” he said with a smile on his face. “Wait first, please? I’m not ready to go to the gym yet.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and struggled to look back as his arms engulfed you. “First time I’ve ever heard that from you. Why?”

Changbin is always more than eager to go to the gym, so the request set you back. He giggled and you could feel his chest pump against your back. He smiled at your figure in the mirror.

“What are you plotting?” You squinted your eyes back at his reflection. Changbin smiled dumbly in response.

You almost asked again until he leaned down to kiss your cheek from the side. It wasn’t a peck at all, his lips solidly planted on the apple of your cheek for a bit longer than two seconds, and it ended with an audible smooch at the pucker of his lips.

“Heh. I love you, bun.”

The smile on his face returned bigger and brighter. His cheeks heated up and his ears turned incredibly red at his own actions even if he was supposed to leave you melting; well, you were, definitely relaxing in the hold of his biceps at the simple display of affection.

But you’re stronger than him, at least emotionally, and he knows that.

“That was it?” You faked dissatisfaction in your tone and it turned him back into the shy guy you met a year ago. “Gonna delay your gym appointment for just a little kiss?”

His eyes didn’t leave your figure in your bathroom mirror. Changbin’s body heated up and you could feel every bit of him collapse slightly as he stared at your face.

To him, you’re still as handsome and as pretty as the time he met you, if not significantly more beautiful now than ever. Even when you were intimidating.

“I don’t think my coach minds if I’m late,” he attempted a smirk.

Changbin grabbed your wrists with a swiftness and held them against your back. Holding them with two hands, he made sure that you were unable to separate your arms, teasing you with one of his strength displays.

“Coach probably wouldn’t mind, especially when they’re late too.”

He wasn’t just planning on locking your hands there. He was feeling bold and you could feel it in the strong hold of his hands against yours.

But you’re physically stronger than he is.

You raised your arms and his hands together over your head, catching Changbin off-guard, twisting your wrists and your body so that you finally faced him. With his hands in the air, you grabbed him by his wrists this time, holding your shocked boyfriend’s hands together and slamming his frozen body against the wall.

You had his hands over his head, locking him in a far more vulnerable position. A blush ran through the apples of his cheeks and painted his ears red. He looked most delicious with his eyes wide open, mouth hung ajar, and pretty little head racing endlessly with thoughts.

“And what makes you think your coach would excuse this unnecessary tardiness?” You asked him with an ear-to-ear grin and half-lidded eyes.

“I’m not saying they’d…allow it…” Changbin bit his bottom lip for a second to ease his stammering. “I’m saying I don’t mind the punishment.”

You chuckled at his weak response. “Where’d you get this boldness?”

“From you, bun.”

You leaned in impossibly closer to his face, tightening the grip on his wrists. Your thumbs massaged the peaks of his palms as your gaze drilled into Changbin for making moves that you never thought he’d do. The man felt so much smaller under you, his biceps clenching suddenly at the tense atmosphere that he initiated.

You stepped away, releasing his hands, and softly smiled. “Binnie, you owe me a hearty dinner tonight.”

Changbin blinked. “Is that my punishment?”

“Yes and no,” you tapped his bicep and squeezed at his muscles. Your sultry voice returned briefly. “Why, do you want more?”

Changbin nodded almost a little too quickly to be subtle.

You turned around to face away from him and smirked.

“How about we go to the gym and find out?”

The trip on the way to the fitness center went on as it usually did, full of banter and tight hand-holding. Your boyfriend was extra giddy in the driver’s seat — he insisted on driving — and seemed way too excited for something just a little less special than a date. After all, this was your work, and he’s still your client.

That didn’t stop him from wanting to be yours for a day.

You both greeted Chris, your coworker, and Changbin’s right-hand man, and Minho, Changbin’s left-hand devil. They were both sparring until you two entered the picture. After handshakes and smiles, they noticed the subconsciously possessive hand of yours snaking around your boyfriend’s back.

They always had knowing grins and your boyfriend always looked like a bullied little dog whenever they teased him.

Whatever it was between you or the two friends, you shrugged it off and headed to the semi-private training room that Changbin liked. It was a four-walled room full of mirrors and equipment, almost always reserved for you and him, your personal training all upgraded to something much more personal now that everyone in the gym knew the both of you.

Shutting the door behind you, your boyfriend let out a giggle. You turned to see him hiding a smile with a dumb look on his face as if he was aching to tell you a joke. You lightly tapped his cheek and he shrugged it off with a downturned smile.

“Anyway, silly boy, we’re here to work out your upper body and arm strength,” you headed over to set up the equipment, yet Changbin’s eyes wouldn’t stop following your figure as you spoke. You could feel the stare right onto your ass, his favorite part of your body, and it felt nasty yet comfortably familiar.

“Binnie, please pass me the—”

“Hmm…” Changbin crossed his arms, pretending to stand inattentively.

You blinked. Tapped your shoe to grab his attention. Nothing worked, and your boyfriend — your client — just looked at his reflection in the mirror, biting back a grin with sharp teeth.

“Bin?” You called out to him. “Baby.” No response. “Bun, bunny.” The eyes that were once on your ass seemed to look away, settling for your impending reaction.

“Seo Changbin.”

He whipped his head your way, feigning surprise, but you didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips turned upwards for a split second. He loved hearing his name, loved it so goddamn much that he’d tease you this way just to hear it fall from your lips, no matter how stoically you called him. If it meant that you would succumb just to say his full name, a sign that you were his, then that meant he won in his own book.

“Mhmm? Oh right, what’d you say?”

If he was going to play some stupid game again, you were definitely catching on, and you were going to fucking win it.

“Put the bench down here.”

Changbin’s ears were impossibly red again at the sternness of your voice, but he scoffed, appearing like the overconfident self that he wanted to be to you. He grabbed the bench, sure, but he hovered it just above the spot you wanted him to place it on.

“I said put it down.”

He dropped the bench down with a loud thud. His eyes shifted back and forth between you and his pathetic reflection in the mirror.

You smirked at yourself after watching his natural obedience shine past his antics. “How about we try something?”

Changbin shook off his nervousness to listen to your inquiry.

“Plank with me underneath.” Your voice was stern, eyes all strict on his figure; if an outsider was watching, they wouldn’t know that you were looking at your very own boyfriend.

He merely scoffed in response.

“Extra bossy today, huh?” Changbin smirked at you, the shit-eating grin leaving your heart burning.

You’ve seen that smile before: he flashed that smirk often, teasing you especially whenever he sent you mirror selfies from his apartment with suggestive follow-up voicemails. It made you laugh every single time how tough he tried to look, flexing whatever muscle he wanted and texting like he was going to ruin you; only to look like a piece of dumb melted mess whenever you teased back with the promise of breaking his cock.

And now, of all times, you couldn’t back down. “Of fucking course. Aren’t you forgetting who’s boss?”

Changbin wiggled an eyebrow, knowing he was pushing exactly the right buttons. “You already know.”

“I don’t care. Remind me who your personal trainer is,” you sternly said.

A whisper left his lips. “It wasn’t supposed to be you,” he subtly said, but you unfortunately picked up on it.

The dark stare you gave him was all he needed to realize what he had done, mouthing “oh shit.” All he could do now was expect you to double down on whatever you were already doing.

He fucked up, pushing the one last button too early — but he loved that he did, and maybe you did, too.

“Who’s your trainer?” You walked behind his figure on the weight bench. The reflection of your menacing stance in the mirror in front of Changbin left him nervous, his heart skipping a beat as he watched you trace a hand down his back.

You grabbed him: one hand pushing his upper back down while the other hugged his hips upwards. With full force, you caught your boyfriend off-guard by making him fall on all fours on the bench in one singular motion.

“Who is it?” You reiterated, ignoring the long whine that escaped him.

“…Y-You, babe. I-It’s…you—” The words left his mouth all chopped up in stutters.

“I need a name.”

“Y/N,” Changbin whimpered before biting his lips to smile again.

“Seo Y/N.”

If he hadn’t pushed enough, then he did now. It was your job to tease but he was catching on. “Don’t play with me.”

“You know you l-like it. You love my name—”

His response earned him a sudden and firm slap on his ass. The boy cried out, his smile replaced by a scrunched face, his giggle replaced by a full moan.

“Filthy little gym brat,” you hissed.

You grabbed a fistful of his curly hair, forcing him to stare up at your reflection in the mirror alongside his pre-fucked-out face. “That’s what you are. Some dumb little workout junkie who thinks of nothing but their trainer’s ass.”

Changbin subtly turned his head in an attempt to look at your actual face. “You’d do the same if I was your trainer.”

“That’s what you think, rat.” You spanked his ass again, this time allowing it to sting through his thin shorts. “At least I’m not a weak little submissive toy of a man like you.”

He whimpered again, this time sounding pained. You thought it was from the spank itself but immediately figured that he was attempting not to leak precum in his shorts. His cock strained against his pants painfully. How cute.

“Y/N! Please, please!” Changbin hissed.

In a twisted attempt to worsen his situation, you sneaked your hand under his shorts to grope one of his ass cheeks, your nails digging into the spank mark. “Please what?”

“F-Fuck…” He attempted to speak straight, holding back drool from spilling out of his mouth by biting his lips back. He stared at you through the mirror with glossy eyes. The hearts in his pupils shined through his bangs, affecting you as if they were aphrodisiacs.

“Please fuck me?”

Without a doubt, his bratty antics were getting to you, but you merely smirked back at him. The same grin he flashed you earlier now pasted on your face, mirroring everything he did from the ego boost down to the annoying scoff that left his mouth. Only yours was more sadistic, infuriating, yet all sorts of hot and addicting.

Changbin anticipated your response, the brattiness leaving him, faux fear inching close to his heart.

“Do you really think you deserve that?”

He tried to whine but nothing could escape his mouth. He was incredibly hard and his poor little fat dick couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe if he didn’t rush his flirtatious antics before you two got into the gym, he would’ve changed into looser shorts that could actually give his cock some breathing room.

What’s worse is that you probably knew this but never gave him — nor his cock — the mercy to breathe.

Changbin settled on shaking his head, his scalp stinging a little from the hold of your hand on his curls. At his response, you forcibly let go of the hand, pushing his head down slightly, making his head bow in painful humiliation.

A delicious whimper made its way out of his mouth.

“I’m here to train you,” you said, your other hand still firm on his ass, “I will train you to be patient, hmm? I’m not your partner now.”

You squeezed his ass one last time before removing your hand from his shorts. “I’m your coach for now, you’re my client, yeah? I’ll fuck you if you’ve been good enough.”

Changbin simply nodded his head eagerly. You chuckled darkly, impressed at your brat’s sudden obedience.

“Now, where were we?” You slapped your palms on his round and bouncy pecs. “Oh right.”

You got on your knees down to meet his eye level, him elevated as he was supported by the bench. You looked like you could kiss him, or if he stood up then you would suck him off, or maybe eat his ass in that position — but you simply grinned, laying down with your back to the floor and front facing up under Changbin.

“Do a bench plank with me underneath. One minute and thirty seconds. Go.”

Poor guy had the most agonizing minute and a half of his life.

The sight of you, winning at the game he set, and teasing him with the nastiest curl of your dark smile left him struggling when he usually never did. He could’ve gone on for possibly two minutes or more, he never tested the limit, but maybe he hit it when he was forced to stare at you.

“Thirty. Thirty-one. Thirty-two.” The husky timbre of your voice rang in his head as you counted the seconds down, a daunting timer right underneath him. He couldn’t believe himself, that he tried to become an annoying brat — and he never expected such a return.

But what was he supposed to expect from you — the partner he bagged through fucking in the very same gym he was struggling to work out in.

Changbin’s cock was straining, raging boner only ever getting harder while staring at you and your body that he loved so much. He couldn’t say a word, mutter a single word of worship even if he wanted to; he was still keeping up the act, refusing to succumb to the game he was still trying not to lose.

Maybe he already did, but he’s stubborn, just as you found him out to be.

“Fifty. Fifty-one, fifty-two…”

Flowing through his popping veins, his blood heated up his entire body when he was just planking, a simple warm-up exercise, as he fell into the pit of disbelief that you held the reigns and all the power even while being physically under him. He felt humiliated, less than the confident man he wanted to be, feeling smaller and significantly less strong than he actually was.

“Eighty-seven, eighty-eight, eighty-nine…”

At some point, he felt like giving up, like bucking his elbows and letting go of the bench. That unfortunately meant that he would drop onto your body and crush you, losing the game and, more importantly, hurting you.

It was beyond a game at that point. His nerves were fighting themselves, he wanted to cum, to drop onto your hips and just be fucked by your body. He was so ready to admit defeat, but he couldn’t at the cost and real fucking risk of crushing you.

Crushing the body he so loved. The collection of parts that made up the whole that is you, the one he fell in love with. The curves and sharp edges that framed your plush skin and contours, the hairs that grow in directions that flatter you. There’s something in the way the sight of your body places him in a trance; perhaps because it is the very body that houses the person he loves, his coach, the one who loves him, the one who knows how to love him. And god, you were strong, strong enough to bear his weight, but his anxiety boiled all the way down his crotch.

Can’t crush the body he loves.

He didn’t want that. Of course, you wouldn’t want that. He shut his eyes and listened to your voice instead of the thought. His sweat dropped from his forehead and neck down to your cheek, making you chuckle. The lightness of your laugh relieved him a little, but also made him harder, his hips wishing to line up against yours.

Of course, you noticed. Of course, you knew how badly he wanted you. You pulled your knee up and brushed it against his crotch.

“One hundred!”

Changbin yelled loudly at the action and your last count, failing to realize that he had gone ten seconds past a minute and a half. He tensely let go of the bench, only to catch himself painfully with his elbows and propping his body just inches above yours.

He flinched more at the fact that you barely flinched rather than the last-minute save down on your body.

“Good job, Binnie. You went beyond the time limit!”

Cock aching between his legs, Changbin resisted to call for a restroom break as he knew you would’ve humiliated him. He would want that, but not in the way he truly needed. He craved your validation in the form of proper disciplining, wishing to bring out that side of you, his coach.

But lord was your praise music to his ears.

If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it then.

The workouts went on for what seemed like hours of agony and his cock wouldn’t soften at all.

He did more reps on the pulldown machine than usual. It didn’t help that you hovered over him with your ass just above his hips as his back ached and arched at each pull. He looked beautiful, *fuckable,*especially when he complained slightly about doing another set at your command.

“Another?”

“Why, can’t do it?”

“What if I said no—”

You pulled the bar down with his arms in a sudden burst of strength, stretching his entire upper body, making Changbin groan so loud it might’ve echoed beyond the private room.

“You’re doing it anyway, that’s a demand.”

Then he got on the bench press while you hovered over his crotch. You counted the reps as he tried to focus on the heavy barbells. Your ass teased him, luscious hips just above his own in a way that made him feel like throwing the weights and pushing you down on his cock instead.

Turns out that wait is more tiring than weights.

Then you commanded him to use the sit-up machine while your lips were dangerously close to his every time he curled up. Then you took him to the chest press and forced him to stare at you, not your ass in the mirror behind him. Every single other exercise felt like another lap down the circles of hell.

He also did elevated push-ups on the bench as you sat on his lower back. The tease of your ass against the back of his hips drove him insane.

You spanked his ass again and he almost came then and there.

He was heaving, not just from the muscle soreness, but also from the thought that you could just fuck his ass in this position if you could — but alas, you held it over his head, and he was just a “filthy fucking gym brat.”

You could feel your veins popping as he smirked at you upon accomplishing his last set, only to feel satisfaction when he ducked his head and pouted when you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t get too cocky, rat.” Your hand found his right bicep and held the firm, exhausted muscles.“How about I check your progress, hmm?”

A finger ran across the grooves of his shoulder blades and defined collarbones. “Oh, this rat did so well after all.” You ran your knuckles against the firm skin, feeling his biceps flex under your bones. Changbin shuddered at the touch, affecting him mentally and physically.

But god was your lovely voice making it so much worse. “Body got so much prettier.”

So was your teasing. “And you’re still so eager.”

You pointed straight at his erection while your other palm squeezed his strong forearm. He hated the teasing, or loved it; he isn’t too sure. Before he could say anything, feel the humiliation creep in for being a huge pervert, you bent down — and intentionally showed the curvature of your ass — to pick up a bottle.

“Does my baby want a treat?” You offered the treat in the form of a bottle of his favorite energy drink, still all cold even after being sat on the floor throughout the entirety of the workout.

The boy was thirsting, sure, but he wanted to quench a different kind of thirst. If the short yet thick tent on his crotch was any indication, then it was the darkened gaze that suddenly flickered in his eyes when he stared at you.

“No.”

A bratty side was returning and you hated that same lopsided smile on his small, puffy mouth.

“I want Y/N.”

You fiercely grabbed him by his cheeks, pinching your thumb and index finger down onto the softness of his cheeks. Your boyfriend’s luscious lips puckered at the pressure, but he tried to look less cute in your hands with a little tinge of failure.

“Demanding now, are we? You’re gonna have to train more if you think you deserve me.” You dug your nails harder into the skin of his cheeks. “What are we here for again?”

No response. Your nails sunk in more, making your boyfriend whimper. “Answer me.”

“Training.”

You let go. “Good. Training for?”

“M-My body.”

“Yes,” your voice softened. “For your pretty body.” You felt up his muscles, fingers walking across the thin fabric of his shirt and dancing around his firm, sweating skin. The threads were cool due to his sweat yet his skin was warm under your touch, the blood of a full-body blush creeping just within his veins, flesh reddening where it’s most sensitive — which is everywhere your hands graced.

“Such a glorious thing. So thick. So firm. So smooth, so beautiful.” Fallen into a trance at your warm words and touching, Changbin grew lightheaded, losing sense of thought almost completely even if he was feeling all sorts of emotions at once.

With a dark voice, you asked him an important question. “My baby worked out so well. But you’re missing something, why are you really here?”

Everything had to be mustered up for him to even reply. “To be…a good boy.”

Dumbing down, he felt his head spinning at your touch. He couldn’t form full sentences as he grew dumb, but he tried, and you could feel him trying. He still wanted to impress you but you had him drunk on the thought of you.

At this point, his poor cock had been edged past his record limit, but he hadn’t backed down to rub one out even in the private room with you.

Even if he wanted to. God, it would be nice, being sat with his back laid flat on the bench while your glorious ass cheeks bounced on his fat cock—

“I don’t think we’re done though.”

Feeling the grooves of his well-carved muscles, relishing in the subtle instinctive flexes, you felt a burn inside your heart just above the chest. Changbin was shaking ever so slightly, judged by the mere touch of your fingertips, a lovely little tactile feeling all contrasted with the flaming intent of your actions.

“I want more from you. How much can you lift again?”

Dryness caught itself in Changbin’s throat. “M-More than…130 kilos…”

“How about we see who’s stronger?”

“Baby—” Realizing how deep your pupils seemed to drill themselves into him, he changed terms of endearment. “Coach, what do you mean?”

“I lift you, then you lift me. Let’s see who’s stronger then. Got it?”

The matter-of-factly tone of voice and hands on your own hips got Changbin reeling. He especially loved seeing your displays of strength, something you were ironically subtle about even as his own trainer.

Is it bad that he got more excited to watch you outdo him than to prove you wrong? He hadn’t realized yet, but he was losing his own game.

This gym session was going overtime.

“You gotta be stronger than me to pass.”

Squatting before him, you looked up at him with shiny eyes as you readied yourself to carry your big boy.

He thought he would look unattractive from the lower angle however you digressed. His tummy became more apparent, one of your favorite parts of his body, alongside his ass.

It was no secret that the both of you were obsessed with each other’s bottoms. He wanted yours in a way that a hungry man would want to savor the food he’d finally get. You wanted to finger his as if his plump, round, and firm cheeks weren’t an invitation to be violated.

Maybe you should finger him.

Maybe you’d do it after lifting him off the ground.

“Holy—woah, Y/N, woah woah! Put me down!”

“Ah. Won’t put you down for a minute, I kind of like the heaviness.” You lifted him up by snaking a strong arm around his hip and supporting his heavy upper body with your other arm. “You weren’t this big before.”

You spanked his ass one more time, watching the jiggly form recoil, until you held it firmly in your hand.

“Now, I’m sorry Binnie, but I can’t resist you.”

While holding him up, you slammed both of your bodies against the wall, making sure not to break the mirror behind Changbin or hurt him in the process. After realizing that it had only gotten his cock pulsating in his shorts, you made the wise decision to pull it down.

The yelp that Changbin let out was to die for.

You hastily pulled his shirt all the way up to his mouth, forcing him to bite onto the fabric as his belly and chest exposed themselves to you with the prettiest subtle bounces. They had been freshly worked out, skin glistening and glowing from his sweat. Each form of his pecs and the round firmness of his tummy was detailed enough to make you admire it even more than when it would naturally be while relaxed.

Every side of him was attractive, whether or not he worked out, but the view of his exposed body made your core tingle with delight.

Tracing a finger up his stomach, you felt up his skin until the dip of his chest. His cleavage was extra prominent, especially in the way you squeezed his body between your own and the wall. You played with the space before your fingers settled on pinching his nipple.

Of course, you were aware of his sensitivity around his chest, and that made you intentionally tease him even more.

Changbin let out a muffled cry, drool pooling in the fabric of his shirt where his mouth clamped on it. You still held him up, but this time, you adjusted your hold by throwing his leg up and over your arm. He shuddered at the action and then at the realization of what was to come.

Before he could even think, your finger dug into his exposed asshole, and prodded it open.

Changbin bit down and cried, writhing in your arm and attempting to grab anything. He settled on holding onto your shoulders as he felt your finger enter him even deeper.

His cock seemed to move painfully on its own. It twitched rapidly as the heavy dick was left unattended but his ass clenched around you in the same way.

Figuring that your boyfriend already had enough stimulation going on in your little game, you decided to make it worse by sucking on the nipple you pinched earlier.

At this point, Changbin’s mind had gone completely hazy, all thoughts fogged out as he could only focus on the pleasure on opposite ends of his body. Your tongue swirled around his hardened nipple as your lips sucked around the skin of his tit. Your finger was joined by another digit, slowly going as to let him adjust to the sensations. His prostate was getting violated, used, and abused, but it only spurred the both of you on to keep going.

And then you went merciless on him.

Your fingers curled against his sweet spot before getting pulled away, only to push back as soon as Changbin attempted to whine; his subconscious obedience proved itself to manifest as he dropped the bratty act and kept his mouth clamped around his shirt. He made muffled noise after muffled noise, tearing up and drooling, wishing for his cock to be satisfied. He was close, dangerously so, and you could feel it in the way his balls started to grow heavy against your wrist.

Denying him relief, you moved on to suck on his other nipple, picking up the pace in which you fingered your boyfriend.

He threw his head back against the mirror with a loud thud but he could care less. Your other arm’s hold around his body kept him in place but also flexed enough to make him feel all of you.

Maybe it was subconscious possessiveness. Maybe it was the need to keep his melting body up. Maybe it was the lone sensation of being surrounded by muscles and also being penetrated by muscles that made Changbin—

“No, you’re not cumming yet baby.”

Your lips left his chest with a pop and your big boyfriend ducked his head in response. You pulled the shirt off his mouth and dragged it down while your other arm set him down on the ground.

Still shaky, Changbin grew confused and frustrated — not at you, but at the denial of relief once more.

“Time to show your strength Bin. Show me what you got—”

Changbin hastily pinned your body to the mirror wall as well, breathing heavily while holding your body by the hip.

Just as you held him practically with one arm only, he did the same, this time using the other to pull your own bottoms down to reveal your ass.

“Please, Y/N, p-please, ‘m so needy.” Changbin was out of breath, brain still jumbled from being fucked mercilessly in the ass. “Can’t take…anymore…please, please…”

He mustered up every single bit in him to form sentences. The poor thing’s bicep wrapped around your ass as if he could never let you go. “Wanna fuck coach, please, let me fuck you.”

It would’ve been a grave sin to detach from you at any moment. His hunger for your body had grown past his primal instinct and now he had been craving you like crazy.

“What’s gotten you so horny?” You had to ask, shocked at the drooling, sweating, blushed-up mess of a man that you still proudly call yours.

“Couldn’t…stop staring at you. Since earlier. S-Since last night. Since yesterday. Couldn’t get my mind off you.” The words that fell from his mouth graced your ears as slowly as possible yet tasted sweeter than ever.

Praises and worship left his mouth at a rapid rate as he felt up your body lazily with his free hand. “You’re just…so strong…Y/N, you drive me crazy.” Changbin kissed any inch of skin he could get. “I really love you, you know that?”

“Of course. I love you too and you are mine.”

Your response made Changbin shiver, evident in the breathy whine he let out. “I promise I’ll be your baby b-bunny forever. Your strong bunny.” Your boyfriend shook as his mouth left love bites on your neck. “I’m obsessed with you, I love you, I love you, I—”

You shushed your boyfriend’s mindless mumbling with a deep kiss, one that Changbin had been craving for hours. He relished in anything that was you, felt like you, tasted like you, and he couldn’t bear to bring out the bratty act once you finally planted your lips on his.

Sighing into your mouth, he shuddered, leaning into your touch and pouting again to receive more of your love. You smiled in response, teasing ever so slightly, before returning the favor with a dart of your tongue.

Changbin’s arms shot up to hold onto you for support, the strong man crumbling under you. What was better was that you held him up, your own arms circling his body again, the grip from every inch of your body around his putting him steadily in his place.

Then you squeezed.

“Fuck, coach, you—” Then you pinned him down on the bench. “Y/N!”

“Hush, boy, aren’t you so excited?” You chuckled as you repositioned yourself and him. “Wanna fuck your coach so bad?”

“Please! Please, I tried to be good!”

Adjusting your hold on him, you gently laid him down on the bench and abandoned your bottoms completely. “Aw. Not so much of a brat now, are you?” You shuffled your hips to hover over his thick, desperate cock.

“Deep down you’re just a pathetic little boy, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” Changbin whimpered mindlessly. “Couldn’t be a brat!”

All you could do was laugh while lining up the entrance of your ass with his tip. “So why’d you try?”

“Because…” He choked on the lump in his throat.“Y-You’re so hot when you’re strict, Y/N…”

You shoved your ass down onto his cock in one fell swoop, enveloping your boyfriend whole.

It was known ever since the beginning that he loved anal; your first bit of sex in the very same gym was telling enough, but he loved giving and receiving in both ways. He loved the dirtiness but also the fact that the both of you prepare and clean yourselves well for it “just in case” it comes up.

This scene was one of those emergency moments that you were glad you both prepared for. Otherwise, you would’ve had the worst time adjusting to Changbin’s sheer girth.

His size was something he had never truly believed to be astounding, but even with your strength, you couldn’t help but lose a bit of yourself to it. The girth was to die for: even if his cock didn’t reach deep, it was heavy, loaded, and big enough to stretch your ass wide. As you lifted your ass before slamming it back down, the feeling of your behind being opened and filled despite the tightness felt amazing.

Changbin felt like crying at your first strokes. He always loved it when you two fucked or made love, but shit, he basically edged himself the whole time in the gym. He had never done such a thing, most especially while putting up a brat act, but every single morsel of thought flew right out of his head as your ass picked up the pace and took him whole.

Somehow, you’d both become sopping wet as you both met in the middle once, twice, thrice, four times — you’d lost count, unable to keep the seconds and rounds of body slamming as you would’ve earlier.

You couldn’t help but moan from the pleasure, making Changbin hold you using all of his limbs with the last bits of strength in him. The both of you knew that he wouldn’t last.

A heat was pooling in your stomach as well, sliding all the way down to your crotch just in front of your ass. While his cock hit the sweet spot in your hole over and over, you could feel your own orgasm building quickly alongside your boyfriend’s.

Neither of you could care less about the mess you were about to make.

Quickly picking up the pace, you slammed your hips down over and over again and pressed your hands against his chest, rubbing his nipples and soothing the sore muscle. The stimulation grew far too much and too fast, but Changbin was so lost in the ecstasy that he couldn’t complain, and he grew so physically tired that he couldn’t hold you off.

Despite the hurt in his cock he still didn’t want to stop you.

“S-So fucking…close…holy shit, Y/N, gonna cum!”

“Cum inside me,” you demanded.

Fully shaking, Changbin dug his fingers into your thighs with all his remaining might and held you in place, shooting load after load from his poor, aching cock deep into your plush walls.

He was so warm, his release filling you with a certain nastiness that you loved so much. You could tell how much he saved all of it from the amount he shot into you. It even started spilling despite the fact that you stilled in place, unable to move from the force of his hands pulling you down. Maybe his training on the pulldowns earlier helped him with it.

But you were both far from done.

You kissed Changbin on his plush lips and sighed in faux contentment. “Binnie baby, you filled me well…” He could only mouth “thank you” in reply.

Then you pulled his sore body up after pushing yourself off his sore cock. “But I want more.”

His eyes widened in a mix of surprise and fear at the prospect of you using his spent cock more than he intended. This might’ve been the punishment he wanted, but it was nothing like what he’d expected.

Making matters worse, you sat behind him and suddenly wrapped your arm around his neck. The other hand found his cock and both arms squeezed, locking Changbin in your hold.

The boy moaned the loudest he had ever done in his entire life.

“Gonna fuck you like this,” you said as you pumped his cock at a rapid pace, “I’ll milk you dry.”

Your words left Changbin gasping, moaning, whimpering, and whining like a trapped dog. The tears in his eyes flooded down as he struggled to adjust in your arms, but god, you were far stronger than you displayed earlier. He barely had any strength left to push you off, to wiggle out, to even form a coherent enough sentence or word.

Was it bad that he liked it this way?

Changbin could only tremble. He moaned your name deliciously over and over as your hand pumped his fat cock from the tip all the way down to his balls at a breakneck pace. You softened the headlock slightly to make him breathe, but the flexing of your forearm drove your boyfriend past the point of self-control. He was overstimulated in every single way.

Again, it was the strength display. The fact that you were putting such a huge man like him in his place. You rendered him unable to function, tired him out until he became putty in your arms, and now you had him caged like a real rat. You flexed your forearm again and Changbin let out a severely choked out whimper.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He came non-stop with his head rolled back to your shoulder, curly bangs covering the fucked-out face he gave you from the sheer amount of pleasure.

Overstimulation sent him over the edge though, making him cum again and again. You could even feel the vein on his cock pop and pulsate under your palm. The lone fact that it only seemed to soften after a few more shots of cum on Changbin’s own belly and on your hand made you feel powerful.

“My tamed brat, my good boy.”

The praise made Changbin see stars. You saw the hearts in his eyes as he struggled to look back at you.

Wholly dumb and unable to move, your boyfriend simply lay in your arms and you both sat there for a moment. You pet Changbin’s fluffy hair with one arm and rubbed his belly with the other, playing with the cum on his tummy before you two shifted in your seats.

A year or so ago, you two had been in the same dilemma and position as you were. You and Changbin were both sweaty and exhausted, his head rested on your shoulder, unable to move. The both of you relished in the glow of being fucked nasty in the gym with your clothes barely hanging onto your bodies, soiled with sweat and cum — it sounded disgusting, but it was the reality that you two had to face with your puffy cheeks.

Lord knows how agonizing the cleanup would’ve been if you weren’t going to do it with your boyfriend at least.

Guilty at the mess he made, Changbin kissed your face everywhere and mumbled to “take care of it” as he attempted to stand up — only to groan in pain after the soreness hit all of his muscles at once. You laughed and supported his weight with your own. Unable to register how you’re still managing, you guided him up and took mops, towels, and bottles of isopropyl alcohol.

Everyone knew you two were lovebirds, but nobody could use this room after you tainted it with an atmosphere of pure sin.

It’s funny though, you thought; Changbin’s goofy self returned in full force, albeit in a tired body, but still entertained you enough to keep your spirits up while cleaning the room. He hummed, giggled at you, nudged his face into your arm, and even sniffed at you as a joke.

It was your silly signal to take a break in a shower together within the adjacent locker rooms that, somehow, were empty then.

Perfectly enough, you two took a single stall together and showered together just as you two were accustomed to doing. This time was a little more special, the deja vu of the first meeting settling in as you happily scrubbed your boyfriend’s once-sweaty scalp. He was too tired to do it to himself he returned the favor by cleaning you too. The rest of the shower was quiet save for a few “I love you’s” and light chuckles.

He gave your back a peck before drying it, relishing in your natural scent and the aroma of the post-shower lotion. You dressed him up in your extra clothes the same way that he dressed you up too, feeling at home even in a slightly public space.

Home was wherever Changbin was, in the same way, you were his home as well.

Back to the reality of the messy room, you handed him a mop and he grimaced.

“Hey, Y/N, slap my wrist next time I try to act bratty. That’s not really me.”

Your reaction must’ve been funny, as your face earned Changbin a hearty giggle.

“Then who might this just-as-handsome asshole-ish guy be?”

“I’m thinking Changbin would be a fitting name.”

“Ew.” You grimaced in the same way he did earlier. “And you should be jealous of him?”

“Nah. ‘Cause I know you love The Seo Changbin only.”

You snorted at him and threatened to swipe his leg with the mop. He laughed and snorted back. He liked the idea of poking fun at you with his own name so much that he pulled it thrice.

“Say, I owe you dinner tonight, right bun?” He huddled closer to you, the comfortable distance only growing warmer. It was touching to know that he remembered your silly claim from earlier, softening your heart. You got excited to listen as his ideas for hearty food were always right, a privilege you unlocked by having a lifestyle journalist wrapped around your finger.

“Mhmm. Gotta heal from that ass-kicking I gave you.” You bumped the side of your hip onto him, but he blushed as the slight memory of half an hour ago flashed before his eyes.

“Anyway! I know a cozy restaurant just downtown that serves banger seafood. It’s the side branch of that beachside bar I told you about.” Changbin went on to describe his recommendation.

Your eyes lit up at the idea. “Wow, your lifestyle writing really takes you places, huh?”

“Yeah, but actually,” Changbin raised his index finger, “I discovered it through my side gig’s talent, Chan—I mean CB.”

You paused and raised an eyebrow back. “…Interesting. Tell me about it.”

“How about I just show you?”

As if on cue, you both heard a punch, then a comically loud groan that sounded like Minho. Following it was an even louder apology from Chris. The other end of the gym must’ve been busier than you two, you thought.

The laughs that escaped both of your chests filled the air of the private room. It was one of many beats in your relationship that you shared with him often but it’s still an unconfined joy to have with him. You could live in the banter and tiny conversations forever, even the bratty behavior he displayed only cemented how much you loved the man even if he made your heart burn and filled your ass up.

Brats used to be off-limits until you brought him to his limit, and now it’s all you could ever think about.

Changbin expected punishment but only got rewarded with your love and warmth in the end. It’s a mission he successfully failed and a game you aimlessly won.

As you two walked out of the fitness center, wobbling in your steps back to the car, you fought over who’d be the driver. You won again, and Changbin fell asleep angelically in the backseat. At least then you’d wake him up with the hearty meal he recommended.

Even after all this time, your client — and boyfriend — never changed the love he had, has, and always will have for you. He might as well renew his gym subscription under your name even after the gym closes.

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @turnipfizzle @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @starryoong @bbyquokka @abiaswreck @suengmi @fun-fanfics @fairylouist + @stupidshitsworld @compersian @skz-hell @certifiedwootiny @xcookiemonsteer @lino-jagiyaa @imrllytootiredforthis @straykidsholicleigh @wonhosmistress @fruitcakebin @jisvngc0re1 @silentreadersthings

very special mentions to @meivida for proofreading and editing my fic (and for indulging in my nonsense). please wish them good health this year!

header art is mine! have a great new year everybody :))

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!changbin #dom!reader #stray kids smut #changbin smut #💬 z is writimg

426 notes · View notes

yanderestarangel · 6 days

Note

Hi can I request Yandere Bi Han mortal kombat x male reader who is a normal human has no powers just lives his life normally headcanons of how he would be as a Yandere but you can also put a little smut in it.🥰❤️😍

yandere!bi han x male reader ౨ৎ ⋆🎀｡˚ [ HUMAN AU ]

TW ┆dark themes, au, violence, manipulation, non con, dub con, ftm reader, rough sex, age gap, stalking, emotional dependence, threat, v!sex, breedkink, praise, smut, mind break, eat out, anal, blowjob.

ʚɞ a/n: I need to make a bot on this concept.

♡ ┆I really like to think that Bi Han would be a martial arts teacher who works at some martial arts academy, he has always been extremely serious and stoic but has a love for his family roots of grandmasters and skilled fighters ─ he wouldn't differ too much from his persona as Sub Zero, without powers. The Asian would live a normal life in China and have a calm routine going to the gym teaching classes from morning until afternoon and going to sleep at night too tired to think about anything else.

♡ ┆He would go out on the weekends to visit his brother Kuai Liang who lives with his wife Harumi on the other side of the city and has a renowned clothing store in the city center. He can't feel many things other than coldness and is very closed to everything and everyone, being the typical "bossy" person in the room.

♡ ┆Bi Han couldn't take a life like this anymore, he tried dating but couldn't feel the same intensity as his former partners - which always led to nights of quick sex just to satisfy his carnal desires. Riding a motorcycle around was also his passion, something to distract him from intrusive thoughts on lonely Sundays ── He would also have several tattoos adorning his muscles and biceps.

♡ ┆But everything changed when you arrived in his life unexpectedly. You were looking for self-defense classes to feel safer but from the moment you entered his gym the long-haired man's cold heart practically melted and missed a beat momentarily, as if everything slowed down in his lap for moments and he just I could see you in front of me.

♡ ┆He was... Friendly with you, he managed to smile and even make small jokes which was new even for him, as if you had unlocked something in him. You talked about self-defense classes and he smiled widely for some unknown reason he offered private classes in the afternoon at no extra cost making you stay under the free and spontaneous pressure of the fight teacher.

♡ ┆So it all started there. You became his obsession and his point of fixation... He wanted to make you love him and make you just his. It was a crazy thought since he barely knew you, but not for long. You were his man, you needed to be his.

♡ ┆The self-defense classes started with Bi Han going easy on you, a few easy jabs and among them were the "innocent" questions that came out of his mouth, your relationship status, where you lived, how old you were, what your foods were favorites and your hobbies ─ a little interrogation disguised as a genuine concern from your coach.

♡ ┆You also noticed how he liked to press your body against his, keeping you close to his muscles while showing you how many times he could easily break you in half if he wanted. "You really are a cute creature aren't you? How long are you really uh?" Bi Han would speak in a deep voice as he stood behind you and held your body lightly with a muay thai movement making you look at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror ─ his brown eyes boring into you, he could make you scream and beg for him but... Not at that moment he wanted you to come to him because he wanted to, so he soon let you go and smiled sideways. "You need to improve your defense, little boy, let's practice the blow again ok?" he said, turning his back to you and adjusting his clothes slightly while trying to ignore how hard his dick was in his pants and how his pulse was racing just from touching you.

♡ ┆You would find yourself getting closer and closer to the older Asian, he would invite you to dinner with him, or a walk even offering to take you home, after all according to him "pretty boys like you attract wolves." And he was certainly one of those wolves a silent and effective predator in his goals.

♡ ┆He can easily manipulate you and get into your mind with lies, saying that the neighborhood is very dangerous, that delicate boys like you should stay alert and let him take care of everything and take you home every day, a less invasive way of enter your life without causing much suspicion for you or third parties.

♡ ┆When you least realized it, Bi Han would already be at your house, talking to your family and pretending to be the ideal companion you needed ─ a man who cared about you and only wanted the best for you. So he soon starts to put pressure on you, saying that he could help you more intimately, that you couldn't be alone in an unknown country and even offering to marry you so you could stay permanently in China ── things escalated so quickly it made you dizzy; but you were a strong man at first and ignored all the advances he made towards you until then. What led the man to use unconventional methods to make you his.

♡ ┆He started stalking you knowing exactly where you went and placing staplers in your house, always on alert in case you tried to find another relationship besides him. He would start playing psychological games with you, knocking on your windows in the middle of the night and entering your house at night to see you shaking in fear at every loud noise and dropped things he did, quickly hiding in the shadows and watching you like a damn ghost. It didn't take long for you to be psychologically shaken, mainly because he combined all of this with anonymous messages sent to your numbers with threats like "I'll see you from here" "there's no point in covering the windows" "I'm inside your house." You were so mentally fragile that you went looking for the only safe haven you could have at that moment in unknown territory... Your martial arts teacher, Bi Han, the same man who caused all this from the shadows.

♡ ┆So soon you would find yourself accepting his support, even leaving self-defense classes because he himself said he could protect you. He has been living at your house for a while ── However, he would soon change his mind, saying that it would be better for you to go to his apartment because your 'stalker' could come back there while he was away, it was the perfect excuse for him to have you under his control. Soon you lived more in Bi Han's house than in your own staying at his mercy, it was worth it for him to spend a whole month playing the terror in your mind, after all, now he finally had you all to himself. You will be spoiled with the good and the best, foods, clothes and the affection of the older man ─ movie nights watching movies and tight hugs with Bi Han's hair tickling your face... You've never had someone who cared about you as much as he did, so it wasn't difficult to develop an emotionally dependent relationship with him.

♡ ┆You would also marry him a few months later, convinced by him because you needed to stay in the country and have a better life, but with the marriage certificate also came his possession slowly climbing the surface... He calls you "cute hubby" and made a point of leaving you at his house when he left, under lock and key and away from the madness of the world. Bi Han had a perfect life now you were dependent on him in every aspect, especially mentally since he even took you away from your own family to keep it for himself and now he really he felt alive, with a beautiful boy by his side, the true love of his life in a completely sick and twisted way, just like his mind.

♡ ┆If you tried to leave his domain he would have to make you his carnally, biting you and holding you tightly to the nearest wall of the room and looking deep into your eyes. "I gave you everything, baby boy, You won't dare leave here, right? The world out there is cruel and dirty and you were born to be taken care of by someone, to be submissive to someone, do you hear?" And it wouldn't take long for you to become a trembling mess, clinging to his muscles for support as he pounded his dick into your pussy, with force and even cruelty to mark his territory in you ── he would hold your thighs and your neck with another hand, making you look at him with each rough thrust of his cock ─ the wet and obscene noise filled your ears and made you moan even more his dick was so good that with every kiss his tip had on your uterus you could feel your brain shut down for a few seconds making the asian laugh and whisper in your ear "good boy, a good boy for your owner hm? You're going to take all my cock with that beautiful pussy, aren't you? You're going to take all my cum and be a little slut who only thinks about sit on my dick until you get everything you want... So fucking beautiful..." He would leave you dripping with cum and with a sore clit.

♡ ┆On the bed, on the floor, in the bathroom, in the living room, even on the kitchen counter, Bi Han would fuck you all over the apartment. No hole of yours will be left out, you would have a sore throat from sucking his dick and having him force you to deep throat him or with him between your legs for at least an hour even if you were shaking and in pain he wouldn't stop eating out your cunt, until he left your flesh red and overstimulated by him. He will also fuck your ass while sticking two fingers in your pussy and making you moan loudly as he thrusts his hips against yours, praise pouring into your ears while you just moaned his name. "fucking hell-!, so beautiful and so broken ─ you're such a good slut begging for me like that, you want more, slutty boy? Want me to fill you up again?" He would moan hoarsely between slutty smiles and rhythmic skin-to-skin slaps ── After that you wouldn't think about leaving or going back to your old life, you belonged to him now and you were happy being his husband. Too broken to think about getting away.

315 notes · View notes

jacksluver · 2 months

Note

are you accepting request?

if so can you do vinne fluff with a youtuber!reader like filming a day in my life or morning routine?

Thank you!!

hi! this is so very late but i finally decided to upload it. its short but i hope you enjoy it!

day in the life

vinnie hacker x youtuber!reader

“hi besties and welcome back to the channel! today we’re going to be doing a day in my life” y/n spoke towards her camera.

“i’m literally still in bed so let’s start by getting ready” she said as she moved the covers off her and got up. She walked into the bathroom and set the tripod on the counter. after slipping on her hello kitty headband, she grabbed her toothbrush.

“do you guys wet the toothbrush and then put the toothpaste on it and wet it again or do you guys put the toothpaste and just brush?” she asked before brushing her teeth and washing her face. she quickly dried it and walked back into her room.

she made her bed before walking to her closet and grabbing a pair of jeans, a hoodie, and her dunks. she shook out her curls and put on aquaphor. as she was showing her outfit in the mirror, vinnie walked in wrapping his arms around her waist.

“mhm who are you looking good for and where are you off to?” he said, placing his head on her shoulder.

“me, myself, and i and we are running errands today” she said emphasizing the we, smiling as she placed the camera on the counter.

“oh are we now?” he smirked looking down at her.

“yes we’re going to all our favorite stores and maybe i’ll even throw in a surprise for you” she said, wrapping her around his neck.

“mmkay may i have a kiss first?” he asked, puckering his lips.

she giggled leaning up, as their lips were about to connect vinnie covered the camera lens with his hand, kissing her.

“you’re such a dork” she said, turning off the camera and grabbing his hand walking out towards the kitchen.

“yeah yeah they don’t need to see all that plus would a dork get you breakfast burritos from your favorite place?” he said smiling as he grabbed her by her waist, setting her on top of the counter.

she grabbed her food and began eating it as she went over their schedule.

“Breakfast is done, so we just have to get a few groceries and definitely go to target. Also I want to pick up this new butterfly bag at Coach.”

Vinnie leaned against the counter facing Y/N as he also began eating, listening to their planned day.

“Okay that sounds doable and like fun”

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

#vinnie hacker #vhackerr #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie x reader #vinnie #estbrat #vinnie hacker x reader #vinne hacker x you #estbrat writes

396 notes · View notes

heliads · 10 months

Text

i don't want to keep secrets just to keep you

Ever since you were a kid, your older brother Charles Leclerc has made you promise that you'd never date one of his teammates. Carlos Sainz, however, may be a fiercer test of your willpower than any of you imagined.

masterlist

Charles Leclerc is going to be late to the first race of the season, and it’s so his fault. He’s usually so distracted in trying to make sure that you’re going to be on time that he forgets to check in with himself. That’s why you’re currently watching him scramble around the hotel room, desperately shoving stuff in his pockets and trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

“It’s only Bahrain,” you tease him, “how are you this behind already?”

Charles shoots you an infuriated glare, halfway through trying to tug both shoes on at once. “I’m sure this is your fault somehow.”

You roll your eyes. “I trust you to find a reason for that to make sense.”

You’re not fazed by his irritation. Charles is your elder brother of exactly one year, two months, and three weeks, which is, in his decided opinion, more than enough to give him an advantage over you in age and responsibility. Charles has taken it upon himself to watch out for you and Arthur in every way possible, including when either of you visit him at the racetrack.

However, Charles really only has enough room in his brain to worry about one person. In micromanaging you, he’s forgotten to get himself ready in time, thus causing the chaos before you now. You’re not the one to stress this morning, as you won’t be shooting around a track at ungodly speeds, so it’s well within your rights to sit back and laugh as Charles trips over himself in an attempt to still make it to the paddock on time.

First race and he’s already behind schedule. If only he could use some of that nervous energy to actually be on time the first attempt. He’ll still make it to the race with enough time to spare, but you wouldn’t know that from the way Charles is buzzing behind the wheel, tapping his fingers and mumbling swears whenever the cars in front of him dare to dip below the speed limit.

Eventually, you find yourself in the Ferrari section of the paddock, guided to Charles’ assigned room so he can drop off a bag and grab whatever he needs before heading out again. He adjusts his shirt collar in the mirror, fixing his hair much to your joking derision, and finally declares himself ready to go.

At last, Charles turns to you in the depths of the Ferrari complex, placing his hands on your shoulders like a sports coach about to deliver some life-changing advice. “Y/N, before we go out there, I need you to remember a promise. You swore this to me years ago and I need your word that it isn’t going to change.”

You groan loudly. “Charles, I thought you’d forgotten about that.”

Charles temporarily breaks his stress grip on your shoulders to swat you on the bicep with his right hand. “Absolutely not, are you mad? I want you to promise again. I need to hear it.”

You stare at him. He stares back. “You’re insane,” you tell him.

“Say it,” he replies.

Unfortunately, you kind of knew this was coming. Charles made you promise something like this for the first time back when he was still getting the hang of karting. You’d done something silly like hold hands with one of his friends from his karting team when you were a kid and Charles had flown off the handle. That’s when he’d first come up with the teammate pledge. If you wanted to be there at the race, you had to swear you’d never go out with any of his driving partners, past or present.

It’s a promise he’d made you continually repeat all throughout Formulas Three and Two, but it’s been a while since you were able to make it to a race due to various life interferences, so you thought he’d forgotten about it or something. It appears that’s far from the case, though. Leave it to Charles to remember something like this.

When it becomes increasingly apparent that neither of you will be going anywhere unless you say the words Charles is yearning to hear, you sigh and give in. “Fine. I solemnly swear that I’m not going to date any of your teammates. I won’t even look at them. I’ll run the second anyone with a Ferrari shirt enters the room.”

Charles rolls his eyes. “Be serious.”

“I am serious!” You protest. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m not going to seduce any of your coworkers.”

Charles gives you a pronounced glare. “I’m quoting you on that.”

Your brother looks as if he’d like nothing more than to lecture you for a little longer on the importance of keeping this promise, but luckily, you’re saved by someone rapping on the door. Charles gives you a cautionary look before calling to the visitor that they can come in.

And what a visitor it is. All thoughts of the previous dispute are erased from your head in a matter of moments. Seeing as you’ve been away from the races for so long, you’ve never gotten a chance to actually meet Charles’ teammate at Ferrari. You’ve seen photos, of course, and certainly stared at them for longer than Charles would approve of, if he ever knew, but something about Carlos Sainz is even better in person.

He peers inside the room and a smile instantly crosses his face at the sight of you. “You must be Charles’ sister, Y/N. I’ve wanted to meet you for a while.”

You grin back at him without even thinking of it. “It was the same with me. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Carlos reaches out to shake your hand, and it might just be your imagination, but you swear he holds it perhaps a little longer than he would Arthur’s or Enzo’s. “Only good things, I hope. If not, I hope to convince you otherwise.”

Charles coughs pointedly from beside the two of you, causing Carlos to drop your hand in a flash. “Are you here for a reason, mate, other than to talk to my sister?”

Carlos nods a little too quickly. “Yes, yes. You’re late, cabrón. PR’s been tearing hospitality apart looking for you. We were supposed to head out twenty minutes ago.”

Charles swears under his breath. “You should have told me that at the start, you asshole. Save whatever that was for later, we have to get out there.”

Charles exasperatedly rushes to the table behind him to grab his phone and a fresh Ferrari cap out of his bag. While he’s distracted, Carlos winks at you, whispering something about how he hadn’t minded the delay. Charles can’t hear it, but he must be able to tell from the expression on your face that something is happening.

“Out of my room,” Charles tells Carlos, “we need to get going. Y/N, you remember how to get to hospitality, right? You can meet up with Arthur and the others.”

You nod and he heads to the door, his teammate already shepherded out into the hall by the sheer force of Charles’ indignant stress. Your brother doubles back a moment later, leaning back into the room to give you one last vexed look.

“You promised,” Charles urges you, raising his finger in warning before hurrying out at last.

You’ve never had a problem keeping the teammate promise before. That being said, you think you might have to fight to maintain your word a little harder than you had before. Carlos is– well, his eyes, his hair, the way that red shirt looks against his skin–

Promises!

You’ll never make one again. Silently, you send up a prayer to anyone inclined to listen. You really don’t want to disappoint your brother, but you might need all the moral strength you can get.

You dutifully make your way to Ferrari hospitality as told, and you make it approximately six minutes through listening to your brother’s friends talk about the strategy and the track and the tire compounds before you cave and ask them what you really want to know. And what about his teammate? What’s Carlos like?

They’re not as paranoid as Charles, so they don’t suspect you. You listen carefully, quietly, to how Carlos has really been improving as of late, how he’s been nothing but a gentleman to all of them, what they wouldn’t give to see him more often than just around the paddock.

In short, it’s everything you’d want to hear. When the lights go out and the cars start streaking around the first corner, you realize that the red flash of engine and machinery you’re watching isn’t your brother, but Carlos instead. And, when the Spaniard ends up on the podium, your heart leaps as if it was someone you had known all your life up there, laughing and shouting and spraying champagne.

He still smells sweet when he visits you later. Carlos should know better. So should you. You smile and congratulate him and he thanks you, says that he knew you were watching the whole time and that’s why the race went so well. He waits until your smile is so warm that you could hardly speak and then he asks you to get a drink or two with him later. Just to talk, you know. Unless, of course, you wanted more.

More is exactly what you want with Carlos, but you’re still here in this room with him because you’re here to cheer on your brother, and your brother is the one who’ll be watching you like a hawk until the end of the night. Alright, Carlos says when you admit this to him, You know, I didn’t take you for someone who just wanted to follow the rules.

He’s going to get you killed. You’re delighted with every bit of him. You tell him as much when you give him your phone number. Carlos grins, presses a kiss to your forehead, and tells you when and where he’ll pick you up. You can still feel the ghost of his lips on your skin even after he leaves, even after your brother takes his place and starts rambling about every lap. You don’t hear a word. All you can think about is the new contact in your phone, the one who texts you as you’re leaving the building:

You looked beautiful today, by the way. In case I forgot to tell you.

So you do have a death wish, then. So does he. You text Carlos all throughout that night and the next, making sure that you are able to tell him how imperative that this remains secret from Charles even as you fall endlessly through compliments and charm and glory.

You meet up with him relatively soon afterwards, even though to you, it feels like centuries have passed since that first meeting. You are absolutely terrified walking to meet him for the first time, certain that it won’t be half of what you imagined. There is a moment of fear, and then you round the corner and he’s there, holding out flowers for you, and the burden of Atlas himself falls from your shoulders.

And– it’s good. Fuck, it’s good. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if it wasn’t, but this is something unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. You want to call it love from the first date alone, but you manage to wait a little longer, pushing off the declaration until a few weeks have gone by and he’s kissing you in the shadows of buildings, always running the razor-fine line of being adventurous and getting caught.

This, you decide, one room down from your brother, Carlos’ hands on your waist, is why you would break the rules. It is all worth stealing; every word, every touch, every moment. You never want it to stop, which of course, means that it must.

You have three glorious months before your golden paradise comes crashing down around you. As time goes on, the two of you feel more and more certain that you won’t get caught. How could you, after all? How could Charles possibly guess? You sneak out of hospitality to meet with Carlos, and he laughs and calls you his little rebel, and everything makes sense in a way it never has before. You trust him to keep you out of trouble even as you drag him further into it. There is no way you could possibly be seen.

And then, when you’re in Carlos’ room and he’s kissing you to say hello and I missed you and you look lovely today, just as always, the door opens. You thought it was locked. You might not even have checked.

It is enough, though. Enough that your brother would be able to walk in and see. Enough that you would feel a terrible fear run like ice water through your veins. Enough for you to know that there would be no chance that he’d let this happen, that Charles would do anything but hate you forever for this.

The look on your brother’s face alone convinces you of that. You’ve had arguments before, in the past, both of you doing things to mess with each other, but never in your life have you ever seen Charles as angry as he is right now. Fury does not even come close to the war radiating from his eyes.

Carlos puts his hands up, tries to step in front of you to deflect some of the blame. “Charles, look, this is my fault. I–”

Charles cuts him off. Carlos usually doesn’t back down to anyone, but you think a raging bull would step aside if Charles was in his path right now. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it. Y/N, I asked one thing of you. What is this?”

You feel like your heart has stopped beating. A thousand thoughts whir in your head, excuses, pleas for forgiveness, apologies, but nothing comes out. Charles lunges forward, grabbing your arm, pulling you out of the room. Carlos tries to stop the two of you from leaving, but Charles looks him dead in the eyes and tells Carlos he’ll move if he knows what’s good for him. You nod once, mumble that it’s okay, and Carlos steps away at last, watching with a haunted stare as you disappear down the hall.

Charles slams the door of his driver’s room closed behind you. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, breathing heavy as he tries and fails to get himself under control. “I made you promise this a hundred times, Y/N. Don’t date my fucking teammates.”

You’ve never been scared of your brother, but today– Today, you are. You shrink away from him, trying to think of anything to say to make this end. “I’m sorry, Charles. So, so sorry.”

“You’re not,” Charles spits. “If you were, you never would have done this in the first place. I want so little from you, and you can’t even do this?”

Hot tears threaten to choke you out, but when you finally manage to get your breath back, the sadness starts to creep away, replaced instead by embittered fury. Who is he to speak to you like this? No brother should treat his family with the hatred he throws at you now.

“You never should have asked me that in the first place. I can do what I want, I’m an adult.”

Charles scoffs. “You’re not acting like one right now. There are so many other men in the world, but no, you had to go behind my back like this. You’ll stay away from him, you understand?”

You feel like screaming. “Stop trying to police what I do! You can’t tell me what to do with my life, you’re not my father!”

“I know!” Charles says, furious, “I know, none of us are. He’s not here anymore, it’s just me trying to look out for you and you won’t even let me do that. Every time I try to do something, you find a way to get around it. God, you make knowing you so damned difficult.”

The room becomes icily silent. Charles’ eyes are wide and scared. You don’t think he meant to say that, but he did, and there is no going back from it now.

“Alright, then,” you reply as calmly as you can, “I’ll fix that for you, then. You don’t have to handle me anymore.”

Charles sucks in a breath. “Wait, Y/N–”

You don’t let him finish, already to the door before he can even complete the last syllable of your name. It slams behind you, making you flinch. You don’t know what you’d say if you saw him again, but you still walk slowly to the elevator, then wait five minutes by the button, just in case he comes after you. He doesn’t. The hall is dark and cold, just like the streets outside when you finally gather up the last pitiful scraps of your pride and leave.

You don’t go to any more races after that. You stay at home and go about your normal business and pretend that nothing is the matter even though everything is. You don’t answer when Charles texts you later, or when he calls, or when the attempts to reach you eventually fall away to nothingness. Carlos tries to contact you as well, but you doubt he wants to stay with you after that explosion with Charles, so you do him a favor and ignore him too.

He’ll thank you for it later, maybe, if he even remembers you at all. Formula One drivers are a big deal around the world. You wouldn’t be surprised if Carlos forgets you over a supermodel or twelve, even if it would stab you through the heart to see a paparazzi photo of him with any other girl.

You don’t talk to anyone, actually, no one except your friends, and they know enough to not ask a single question. You don’t see any of your family, certain that they’d be on Charles’ side. You don’t want any more lectures, so it’s easier to just pretend like it’s just you against the world. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. You have been known to lie before.

You last a few months before your facade starts to crack. No matter how well luck runs in your favor, how many new friends you make, nothing compares to what you’d had before. You find yourself staying up at night just waiting for a call so you can ignore it, or wake from a dream in which someone was there, talking to you, when you’d never dare so much as look at them now.

It’s not enough. Of course it isn’t. You had everything you could have possibly wanted— boyfriend and brother, both Ferrari drivers, your family happy that you were showing up to more races and the love of your life thrilled to see you each and every time— so how could none of that ever be enough? It never will be. You could spend a thousand lifetimes in this terrible empty resolution and still not be satisfied, not when you remember how you used to have it all not so long ago.

You’re not sure how long you could have lasted like this. Perhaps you could have stuck to it forever, a grudge grown inside you like the roots of an evergreen, but it would have choked you out before long. Something intervenes, though. Someone, to be specific. Someone like your other brother, the younger one.

Arthur calls you. Frames it under the guise of wanting advice for an upcoming trip, but he finds a way to sneak discussion of Charles in there when your guard is down. He says Charles regrets it. You don’t believe him until an envelope shows up on your doorstep four days later containing plane tickets to the city of the next Formula One race. Addressed from your estranged brother. Including a note that says, Sorry. And, C.L.

Nothing more. The paper practically tears from the weight of you folding it and unfolding it in your hands. It seems to have aged centuries by the time you get off of the plane, stepping down in foreign territory both in terms of the new stamp you’ll get to add to your passport and the uneasy feeling resting in your chest when Charles texts you the number of the hotel room he bought you and his as well. Just in case, you know, you maybe wanted to talk.

You take the flight and you go to the hotel and you bring all of your suitcases and misguided hopes to sit along with you. It’s dark out when you finally manage to get up the courage to lock your door and go to Charles’ room instead. He gets back from media duties around this time, you’re sure he would be there if you just knocked. If you just tried.

The problem is how to make it last. You stand in front of his door, shaking, and then you raise your hand and rap once against the wood. It’s quiet enough that you could leave if he didn’t hear you, having done your job of attempting to reach him.

Charles hears you, though. The unhappy thought occurs to you that he’s probably been waiting for this and dreading it just as much as you. Your knuckles have barely left the smooth surface of the door before you hear the sound of footsteps on carpet, and then he’s undoing the latch and your brother is there again.

You hover for a moment, not sure what to do. Is he mad still? Couldn’t be, if he went to the expense of flying you out here. Does he expect you to apologize?

Instead of anything like that, Charles surges forward, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He hasn’t hugged you like this in a while, even before the fight. It’s like you’re kids again, and Charles has just won a karting round and he’s still small enough that having his sister there isn’t an embarrassment but a source of pride.

Something hot spikes through your throat, but you swallow it back and hug him, too. This is your brother. Even after a fight, he’s your family. The two of you have been trying your hardest to forget that, but he is.

Charles disengages himself soon enough to gesture you into the room. You take a careful seat on one of the available chairs and Charles sinks down onto a sofa, head propped up on hands on knees.

“I’m not sorry,” you blurt out. It’s stupid, you probably should have at least said something to clear the air before starting with that, but you want him to know what he’s getting himself into.

Even weeks after the incident, when the anger burned off and you just felt sad and alone, you still never felt regret for dating Carlos. You loved him. Still do, actually. You would have done it all over again if given the chance. If your temporary surrender with Charles is based on the lie that you’ll repent for having the audacity to fall in love, it would never last long anyway. Better to get it over with now.

Charles chuckles. “Yes, I had guessed that. Joris told me I was being stupid.”

You snort in disbelief before you can stop yourself. “You told Joris?”

Charles shrugs wildly. “Who else was I supposed to complain to, Carlos? Both Arthur and Enzo told me it was my fault and I wanted someone to agree with me.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “Maybe you should have taken that as a sign that I was right and you weren’t.”

Charles groans, but he’s not mad. Not anymore. Neither of you are, actually. “Well, that’s why you’re here, obviously. I was– I was stupid. I can’t control you. You’re not a kid anymore. Just, Y/N– Carlos?”

He says the last part in a desperate plea, practically beseeching you to come to your senses. You laugh, unable to stay serious when Charles looks so horrified. “Let me live, Charles. He was worth it.”

“I assumed,” Charles says darkly, then, “Does this mean I get to date one of your friends? If you say no, you are a hypocrite.”

You roll your eyes. “They wouldn’t want you. I’ve warned them off of drivers.”

Charles protests that, but weakly. The two of you are giggling like nothing had happened, which, although infinitely preferable to fighting, confuses you more than anything. Is this it, then? Is the fight over? So many months of separation, and it’s done without hardly even being debated?

You eye your brother cautiously once his laughter subsides. “You’re really okay with it, then? I mean, you were so mad when you found out.”

Charles winces at the memory. “I was caught by surprise. I was angry, yes, but it shouldn’t have been that much. I knew I fucked up when you left. I told myself that it was more important that you come back.”

It’s what you had felt as well. After your father died– well, there are only so many of us. You learn that family is worth more than argument. Charles has been quick to forgive ever since then. It is easy to be lonely when you are far from home and there is nobody left who knows you.

You nod, accepting this. If Charles has made his peace, then– well, you would be lying if you said you had come to this race just to see your brother. “And– Carlos, is he–”

“I don’t know,” Charles answers evenly. “I haven’t seen a lot of him. I have no idea if he is angry or unhappy or anything. We’re nice on camera because PR makes us, but we’ve avoided each other a lot.”

Your face must betray your apprehension, because Charles waves a hand at you. “Don’t worry about it, though. I’m sure he still thinks you’re sweet. He did tell me off for a long time when you left. He would not have done that if it was nothing. If you want to see him again, I am sure he would be okay with it.”

You laugh bitterly. “It’s been months, Charles. I don’t know if he even wants to look at me anymore, let alone date me again.”

Charles shakes his head. “What do you lose by going? Besides, now that I am invested in it, I want this to pay off. I did not spend money for your flight over here just for you to get ghosted.”

You toss a pillow at his head. Charles deflects it with ease and points towards his door. “He is out there, target him and not me! Now go already, I want to stop moping around. Maman says it is terrible for the constitution.”

You laugh and head for the door, pausing slightly over the threshold when you realize that you actually have no idea where Carlos is at all. You could, of course, just wait until the next day when you can see him at Ferrari hospitality, but you do not want to waste another moment when you’ve already gone so long without him.

A voice over your shoulder quells your worrying. “He’s in room 519.”

You shoot Charles a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

He nods, and you’re off, barely stopping long enough to close the door behind you before hurrying down the corridor once more.

You’re already on the fifth floor, which makes sense; Ferrari puts their drivers somewhat close to each other so they can help each other back if they’ve gotten a little too hammered after a long night out. You take two turns and then you’re there, 519. The end of the line. Your own personal fate.

You thought you would be more afraid to face Charles than Carlos, but for some reason now you feel as if you can hardly move at all. You have to force your hand to form a fist and rap against the wood, but your heart is hammering in your chest all the while.

For a brief, terrible moment, you entertain the notion that Carlos will not come to the door but someone else, a woman perhaps, halfway undressed or something horrendous like that. Instead, it’s him, just him, and you feel like your heart might burst out of your chest.

Carlos looks at you, dark eyes wide. He hasn’t seen you since the fight, and you were so afraid of everything that you didn’t respond to a single message or call. Still, you are standing in front of him now, so surely that must count for something.

“I forgave him,” you say, voice echoing in the stillness between you, “Charles.”

Carlos lets out this slow breath, and you’re debating whether it’s laced with disappointment or indifference or maybe something else, something better, the thoughts racing through your head at record time right up until he kisses you. And then– well, then you don’t have to worry anymore. You know. You know everything.

“I was waiting,” he murmurs against the top of your head, unwilling to pull away more than a centimeter or two even for a lack of breath, “I thought you might have thought we weren’t worth the risk.”

You shake your head indignantly. “No, never. I was scared, that’s all. I’m sorry.”

Carlos leans away just slightly, enough that you can see the playful smile on his face as he traces the curve of your cheekbone. “My little rulebreaker, scared? Couldn’t be.”

You laugh, let him pull you into his room and shut the door. No one in the world needs to know the thousand ways you make it up to each other, how you make a new promise to him as a crescent moon snakes further up the sky: you will never let a single thing get in between the two of you again. The stars soften, dawn colors the morning sky, and you, you have happiness beyond compare.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

999 notes · View notes

chaethewriter · 1 year

Text

bf does my makeup q&a

Jack Champion x content creator!reader

In which you record a Youtube video with your boyfriend, the one and only Jack Champion.

word count: 2,3k

Warning: fluff, lots of fluff that it's cringey, this took me 5 days to write bruh I'm lacking

tagged: @viivvriv @genesis4545 @norrisgf @darkcrusadestrawberry @drxwstxrkxy @wafflehousewrold

"Camera, set!" You put your camera on its stand as you flipped the screen around, pointing towards the front for you to see. Jack appeared on the screen as you did so, sitting on the couch in your room as in front of him stood a table with your two makeup bags and a mirror. You pressed record when everything was clear on screen— centered and not lopsided. You took a step back as you watched yourself on screen, thus making him immediately grab you by the waist, putting you down on his lap. He held you tightly against him, his arms caging you from behind, "Mmm, can't you start the intro now?" His face buried in your hair as he spoke, satisfied with the position they were in. But you had different ideas, as you abruptly got off his lap and took a seat next to him, your legs thrown over his lap, "you can't do my makeup when I'm on your lap, pookie." You booped his nose with your nail as the words left your lips. As a response, he groaned as he sat back, resting his back against the soft material of your coach, his hands behind his neck as he watched you through his eyelids. You took your phone out and clicked on the Instagram icon for today's video.

"Hello, pookies! Welcome back to the channel. Today is a very special video as I'm joined by my sweet Jack!" You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him close to you, your cheeks pressed against one another. He brought his arms down, wrapping one around your waist. His gaze settled on your camera as he smiled, "Hi guys!" He greeted your viewers with his other hand raised into the air, doing his familiar greeting sign with his thumb, index, and middle finger. You pulled away from your boyfriend, putting your phone in your lap as you clapped in your hands, "Today! As the title said, Jack here will be doing my makeup as we answer relationship questions you guys have sent me through my story!"

"Follow her insta, by the way! Appearing right here!" Jack is almost a natural, as he did some magician movements with his hands for you to edit your username in. You watched as he did so, making you burst in a fit of giggles, "You're such a natural babe, you should start your own channel."

"What can I say? I'm Jack the Champ!"

"So cringey?" The two of you looked into each other's eyes as you laughed. You clung onto your stomach as Jack clung onto you for dear life. The laughing continued for like five minutes. You really had to cut this out later. "Okay! Okay! So Jack needs to recreate my usual makeup look with the makeup provided while we answer questions. I'm such a kind girlfriend, so I allow him to have a picture of my makeup look on his phone." You explained, pointing at his phone flat on the table with a picture of you opened.

"I just want to announce that I know what my girlfriend looks like and that I already had this picture of her in my gallery as well as hundreds of other pictures I snapped of her!" You rolled your eyes at that statement, a chuckle leaving your lips, "Yeah, yeah! Anyways, let's get started. What do we start with, babe?" You watch as Jack carefully unpacked your makeup bags instead of throwing them upside down. He knew how much you valued your products, and he made sure he was gentle with them. It gave you a warm feeling. He put everything down in a neat order, looking at all the different brushes and products, "so from my acting experience, because you know I'm an actor, they always use the prime thing first? Like to keep your makeup intact?" He looked at you with puppy eyes, asking for approval to his words. You knew you're supposed to not give him any hints, but you couldn't stop yourself from nodding your head. While Jack looked for the 'prime thing', as he said it, you scrolled through the questions you were asked.

"Found it!" The two of you exclaimed at the same time: Jack talking about the primer and you talking about a question. He picked the product up— the glass container filled with a white cream as a lid covered the pump. You smile as he pumped some on the back of his hand and taps it against your skin with his finger, putting both his hands on your cheeks right after and spreading it with his palms. You fell into a fit of giggles as he did so, "Jack!" You exclaimed with your face all squeezed up. Proud of his work, he pulled his palms away and awaited a question from one of the viewers. You brought your phone to your face as you read the first question, "How did the two of you meet? Jack, the honor is to you."

Jack brought his hand to his chin as he pretended to think, thus making you playfully slap his chest, "Don't pretend you don't know, now!"

"Okay okay! We actually met during my Avatar press tour. She was all over me and I thought she was incredibly pretty." He exaggerated what had actually happened and you barely wait to voice this out loud, "That's not how it went! Stop embarrassing me!" Your face heated up as you looked at the camera, "Yes we did meet at his press tour, but I wasn't 'all over him'! I just asked for a picture, posted it, and tagged him in it, and all of a sudden, he was in my DMs. Don't change the story now, mister Champion!"

This time, it was Jack's turn to blush immensely. His secret revealed how he actually made the first move. He recollected himself, before a grin spreaded across his face, "I mean what can I say? I'm a rizzer."

"Oh god, please never say that again."

The two of you laughed as he picked the eyeliner up, "You have a weird way of applying makeup, so this actually comes second. I don't understand why, though?" He uncapped the eyeliner, revealing the inbuild eyeliner brush. "Eyeliner is so hard to do! Like it takes so long cause I want it to be perfect and by the time I am done my foundation isn't correct anymore because of the wiping!" You whined your complaints out, already growing frustrated thinking about the struggle.

Jack put his hand on your waist as he pulled you closer to him, "Sit still, baby. I never did this before so uhm here goes nothing?"

"Don't poke my eyeball, please." You then kept your mouth shut, as if it helped with him doing better. Jack is incredibly delicate with it though— he held your chin with his hand while the eyeliner was in his other staring directly into your eyes as he concentrated on his work. You felt your skin heating up yet again, your grip on the eyeliner tube wet, thanks to your sweaty hands. It doesn't matter how long you're together with him. He never failed to make you feel nervous. He never broke eye contact, not even when he dipped the brush in the eyeliner. His breath fanned against your skin as he leaned in closer, "Are you nervous?"

"Shut up..." Your voice came out softer than expected. Unfortunately, he pulled back to admire his handywork. It's not even, but he is proud either way. "Next question, babe!" He playfully nudged you with a cheeky grin.

"You're so annoying!!" You quickly brought your phone to your face in an attempt to hide your embarrassed state. "But you love me!"

"What attracted you to Jack and vice versa? Definitely his goofy self. I usually don't look at gym guys, but Jack's goofy demeanor and just being himself made me attracted to him, no matter what he does."

"You're so cute!" Jack pulled you closer yet again, basically seating you on one of his as your legs dangled to one side. He faced the camera while his arms held you steady, "What made me attracted to her is definitely her way of texting. You feel her care and love and joy when she texts you. She's so sweet about it too, aren't you?" He faced you again with a cheeky grin, making you blush like crazy, "so annoying!!"

He picked your foundation and concealer off the table in front of you, "These are all too familiar to me, but I can't remember which one goes first?" He looked at you with puppy eyes, hoping to get an answer out of you. This time, you kept your mouth shut as you let him figure it out himself. He pouted at you, putting the concealer down. He uncapped the foundation and looked at the brushes. "Babe, which one? You should help me out, I wanna do good."

You almost give in. Almost. Too bad for Jack though, because you only gave him a cheeky grin. His gaze traveled from your pretty face to the table. There were so many different brushes and sponges. He remembered makeup artists using a big one, but which one? He decided on the latter and took the biggest one in his hand. It needed to spread and cover the entire face, after all, right? He decided to follow his gut and put a few small pumps on the back of his hand. He dipped the fluffy part of the brush against it and pressed it to your face. Like you were a canvas and he was the painter. Your chuckling made him roll his eyes, "stay still! I'm being a professional right now."

"sure you do, babe."

Jack started to feel himself in his role as makeup artist. He didn't wait for you as he immediately got on with the concealer. He tapped the wand under your eyes and on your nose, just like artists do to him. He took a small brush and blended it by tapping it. You watched how the tip of his tongue slips out from in-between his lips, his concentration to the max.

Even though your boyfriend has adhd, he can for sure keep his focus on you the entire day. "Next question! Ohh I like this one. When did you realize you fell in love with each other?" You tapped your chin as you think about it. You have always loved Jack, but when did that go from celebrity crush to a real crush?

"I have always loved Jack, if I am going to be honest. I started following him since his Avatar announcement, but he turned into a crush from the moment he wanted to switch from Instagram DMs to messages." You explained as you locked your sparkling eyes with him, awaiting for his response.

He took a moment to admire you, a warm feeling bubbling inside his chest since he knew the exact moment that he realized. "When you looked up at my face with those worried eyes that held so much care as you held on my arms. You always did so, but there was a time when it didn't feel friendly anymore. It felt like so much more as my heart sped up."

That was all it took for you to literally take off.

You sprinted out the room, towards the bathroom, in pure disbelief. The disbelief that he had actually decided to answer the question like that. The disbelief that a boy could actually be so true to his feelings.

"baby? Where are you going?" Did he say something wrong?

You stood in the middle of the bathroom with your face in your hands, teary eyed as you smudged your makeup. "babe?" He had followed you to the bathroom. When he heard your sobs, he immediately panicked. His arms wrapped around your figure, his cheek resting against the crown of your head as his hands caressed your back, "did I do something wrong?"

"no you just, you're, you." You didn't know why you were crying. Well, you did know the reasoning, but you didn't know why it made you so emotional.

"You truly love me."

"yes, yes I do. Of course I do. More than anything else." He ran his hands over your back. He knew you had a hard time when it came to romance in general. You had told him and he made sure to take good care of you, until you truly believed him. And that you did. He took such good care of you. And he would continue to do so until his very last breath.

Recording was long forgotten as the two of you bathed in each other's arms.

He was so happy to be yours.

BONUS:

"Ow! This hurts! Baby please stop!" After the makeup video, you had begged Jack to do a skincare routine with you. He had agreed, not knowing it could have been this bad. It was charcoal mask day.

"It's supposed to hurt!"

"Why would you do this to yourself? Ow ow wait!" He extended his arms to keep you away from him. He was much taller than you, so it certainly did the job. "But why! What does it do?"

"it deep cleans your skin, basically. Your face is going to be silky smooth when I kiss your face all over!"

He thought about it for a second. Kisses? Lots of kisses?

"Do I get lots of kisses after you pull it off me?" You nodded as a response. He sighed in defeat as he took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. This was your cue to stand in between his legs, his arms wrapping around you immediately. Your fingers made its way to the pulled bit of his dried mask.

"Fine, you can do it! But I expect a lot of smoo- OH MY FUCK AHHH!"

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion is taking my brain over #jack champion headcannons #jack champion imagines #jack champion imagine #ethan landry headcanons #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream #scream 6

1K notes · View notes

lunamochii · 2 months

Text

'your love and support is what keeps me going.' oikawa toru x f!reader

"Are you coming? Class is going to start."

You read the message of your friend replied "I am, just buying something." Bowing to the shopkeeper, you exited the shop and prepared your speech on why you are late to your teacher. Thankfully, she just let you in and your friends is eyeing you suspiciosly.

The class went on for an hour and half and with each minute passing by, you can tell your body temperature rising. You thought your fever will go away yesterday since you just stayed all day at your house. You even said no to the date you supposed to have with Oikawa. The moment the class ended, you excused yourself from your friends who wanted to know why you're late, you were never late.

"Shit.." You whine when you felt the throbbing pain inside your head again, you already drink some medicine but it's not doing any good. Looking at yourself at the mirror, you look horrible.

"Are you okay, miss?" Looking up, you notice some first years and you just weakly smiled at them

"I am, thanks." They just nodded and went out of the bathroom, after fixing yourself. You tried your best to get to your classroom, your vision getting blurry and it's like everything is spinning. The moment you open the door of your room, your head began to throb, horribly.

Last thing you heard is the voice of your classmates and friends screaming your name.

The last thing Oikawa wants right now is the attention from his fans, he likes it don't get him wrong but he really wants to focus on their training this time.

"Are you still mad because she declined your date?"

Iwaizumi said when he approach the setter, Oikawa woke him up at the middle of his nap just to cry and whine on how you don't love him anymore. He knows his bestfriend is a lil'bit dramatic so he let him rant and he just went back to sleep.

"We planned it for so long! She knows our schedule doesn't match up so we specifically agreed on that date."

The brunette huff and spike the ball he was holding and let out a sigh, if something came up you would've told him. Iwaizumi stared at his bestfriend before shrugging and returning to practice, some time later there was a commotion at the entrance of th gym

"Please! We need to speak to Oikawa-san!"

"I told you that his busy!"

Coach Nobuteru glared at his captain and Oikawa grimace and went to calm down his 'fans' but before he could speak, your angry bestfriend shove all the girls and glared to Oikawa

"Your girlfriend collapsed!"

He didn't need to get a go signal from his coach and sprinted towards the clinic of their school. He never ran that fast all his life, he was panting, hard, catching his breath as he entered the clinic where he saw you getting check up by the nurse

"Baby.." he manage to blurt out while wiping the sweat off from his face and approach where you are "Rest for 15 minutes first. Oikawa take her home after she take this medicine." He nodded and grab the medicine from the nurse's hand. The nurse excuse herself and slightly close the curtain, enough to cover you and Oikawa.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You look at him and sighs "You have a match coming up, I wouldn't want you catching my sickness."

It's true but you could have inform him, he grab the stool and sat beside you. You laid down on the bed, facing him. Your right hand slowly coming up to cup his cheeks and he groan feeling how hot your palm is.

"I'm sorry. I know we've been looking forward for our date yesterday... I'm so-"

"Shush it doesn't matter. All that matters is you'll be healthy and energetic again, okay? Now, rest. I'll go get our things, when I come back you'll take this medicine and we'll go home, okay?"

Even if you are wearing a facemask, he can still see your smile. He lean forward and kiss your forehead and almost curse when he felt his lips get burn. Even if he misses the practice tomorrow, he'll nurse you back to help. He won't get weak just by missing a single practice. Plus, when you are all well again he'll have your whole love and support and it's enough to fuel his desire to win everything in life.

188 notes · View notes

its-time-to-write · 10 months

Note

i honestly would love to see more of jamie with bea like him deciding to take her to see the team for the first time after she’s born because maybe him and reader wanted some time for themselves and get adjusted before having everyone meet her?

My whole family is out today and I have nothing to do, so I’m going to be answering some requests! And maybe opening up my inbox again

I’m a sucker for requests that ask for continuations of my other fics. Thanks for requesting!

lyrical smile, indigo eyes

How did you become lucky enough to have a baby like this with the absolute love of your life? You were pretty sure that you and Jamie had peaked at marriage, but Beatrice Georgie Tartt just takes the cake. You are exhausted because labor was intense, and Jamie swears if you gripped his hand any tighter you would have shattered it. But you didn’t, and you’re out of the hospital and back at home. Bea is a week and a half old, and there are only four people who have met her, outside of the hospital staff: Georgie, Simon, Roy, and Keeley. Jamie didn’t want you to be overwhelmed by a lot of visitors right after you had Bea, so he asked a favor from Ted, who promised to keep AFC Richmond so busy that they wouldn’t have time to drop in unannounced.

But now Jamie’s getting ready to go back to training, and he wants to take Bea with him before it starts.

“I can take her this Friday, Isaac’s been texting me all week and Coach said he’d end training early,” he says from his place on the living room floor, folding onesie after onesie.

You roll your eyes from the couch with Bea in your arms, half-asleep in the middle of her feeding.

“You sure you’re up to it, babe? She goes through diapers like crazy. You’re gonna have to bring a brand new pack if you even want to stand half a chance.”

Jamie just grins. “No problem babe, I’m a pro. Ain’t in the Premier League for nothing.”

“Alright,” you say, “I’m coming too, but only to go have girl time with Rebecca and Keeley. Becca says she has some like spa-day stuff for me. Apparently she did all the research into postpartum care.”

Jamie makes a hm, interesting face and Bea lets out a gurgle and wakes herself up.

—

You roll up to Nelson Road at 1pm, diaper bag packed with everything you could possibly need. This is your first time out of the house with Bea, and both you and Jamie are nervous. He’s trying to make you laugh with dumb jokes but your eyebrows are tightly knit together.

Bea is incredibly tiny, and the Richmond boys are… well, they’re not. You know they can be gentle, but you also know they are capable of getting overexcited way too easily. You nervously fiddle with the toy hanging from Bea’s carseat so Jamie looks at you in the rearview mirror and says, “Babe, relax, it’ll be fine, yeah? They don’t have to hold her or anything, and I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

That calms you down a little. You know Jamie means it. He’ll watch Bea like a hawk, and isn’t afraid to be a prick when it comes to taking care of the people he loves. You take a breath and nod as he pulls into a parking space.

—

The team is on the pitch, so you and Jamie walk out to meet Ted, Roy, and Beard. The boy see you walk up and immediately stop their drills, but Roy shouts “Oi! You lot still have got thirty fucking minutes! Keep fucking going!” So they go back to whatever the heck they’re doing.

Ted says, “Look at this cute little tartlet! Ain’t she just the sweetest thing?” and you can tell by Beard’s reaction that Ted’s been waiting to use that one for a while.

“I washed and sanitized my hands three minutes ago,” says Roy, “can I hold her?”

That is a little bit surprising. You would have assumed Ted would be the first one to ask, but you suppose he’s Phoebe’s favorite “Uncle Roy,” a reason, so you hand her over with a kiss on her forehead. You kiss Jamie and say, “Bye babe, I’m headed to see Keels and Becca,” then turn on your heel to Rebecca’s office. You’re headed inside when you throw one last glance at Bea, and almost burst out laughing; Jamie’s helping Roy put on the wrap so he can wear Bea while yelling at the team. You look out the window once you make it to the second floor of Nelson Road and see Roy coaching with Bea snugly secured to his chest and Jamie hovering close by. You’re glad today’s drills don’t seem to involve any footballs.

You tap on Rebecca’s door then push it open, and are immediately almost knocked over by Keeley, who has launched herself at you.

“HI BABE, HOW-FUCKING-ARE YOU?” she squeals, and you wonder if she’s so loud because she was containing herself when she met Bea. You grin and squeeze her back.

“I am so fucking tired and so fucking happy,” you reply. “Hi Bec!!”

Rebecca gets up off the couch and gives you a tight hug as best she can, because Keeley is still holding you.

“It is so wonderful to see you, darling,” she says, “I saw Roy has the baby out on the pitch. She’s going to be kicking a football before she knows how to walk properly.”

You laugh and Keeley says, “Oi, Roy’s got her? Good luck getting her back. If she’s anything like Phoebe she’ll throw a right fit when it’s time to go.”

“I know,” you sigh, “She’s going to have so many aunts and uncles, it’s insane. Not sure where Jaim and I are going to fall on her ranking of favorite people.”

Rebecca smiles and moves to the couch. “Would you like to sit and have some tea? I read there are certain types that help with breastfeeding.”

You grimace. “I would, except sitting is not exactly my favorite right now. But tea sounds wonderful.”

“You can lay down on your stomach, babe,” Keeley says helpfully. “Rebecca and can cuddle and catch you up on everything you’ve missed.”

You say, “That sounds fucking amazing,” and you’re asleep ten minutes into their chattering.

—

You startle awake to the sound of a knock on the door. Rebecca calls, “Come in,” and it takes you a moment to figure out where you are. There’s a blanket draped over you and Rebecca and Keeley are still on the other side of the couch, both furiously typing and scrolling on their laptops.

You rasp, “How long was I out?” as Roy pokes his head in the door. He’s still wearing Bea.

“Twenty minutes,” Rebecca answers. “Keeley and I thought it best to leave you be.” Keeley nods, not looking up from her screen.

Roy clears his throat. “Hi babe!” says Keeley. She half glances up from her screen then does a double take.

“Holy fuck, you look right sexy like that, Kent.”

Roy grins at her. “Don’t get any fucking ideas.”

Keeley says, “Too late. I have so many fucking ideas,” to which you and Rebecca share a disgusted face.

“That’s disgusting, Keeley,” you tease.

“Oi, you’re one to talk!” she returns and Rebecca nods as if to say, she’s got a point.

“Any-fucking-way,” Roy says, looking at you, “Figured you’d want to be downstairs when the boys meet Bea. They’re changing and getting clean so it’s going to take a fucking minute.”

You nod. “Hey Bec, you wanna hold her?”

Rebecca closes her laptop. “I would absolutely love to.”

Roy growls in a way that means fuck no, but Bea’s your baby so he unwraps her and gently hands her to Rebecca. Bea settles so sweetly into Rebecca’s arms that you swear you want to cry. Stupid hormones.

“Your prick husband is still downstairs bothering Sam and Dani,” Roy says, and you remember oh yeah, I have a prick husband. You get up off the couch.

“I should probably go see him,” you reply. “Becca, you want to come, or..?”

Rebecca is still gazing at Bea, but she nods and stands up, heels discarded on the floor.

You make your way to the locker room to find Jamie surrounded by the team, scrolling through something on his phone.

“…And this is her wearing her Tartt onesie. Here she is with me mum, and this one…” he trails off when he sees you.

“Hi love!” he says, “Just showing the lads the pictures I got of Bea.”

There’s something about Jamie standing in the middle of the locker room crowded by his team that just makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode. You laugh and bound over to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“You’re such a dad, Jamie Tartt,” you tell him affectionately, to which he replies, “Learned from the best, didn’t I?” with a glance at Ted.

“Alright,” you say, arms off of Jamie’s neck but now entwined around his left bicep, “who wants to meet Bea officially?”

Hands go up around the room and to your surprise, they’re all quiet. In scary unison, they move to sit on the benches and hold their hands up, palms facing outward.

“What the fuck is happening?” you whisper to Beard.

“Ted had a baby-etiquette debrief,” he whispers back. “Inside voices, clean hands, neck support, the whole deal. Had me make a slideshow to back him up.”

Rebecca shakes her head in disbelief as you all watch Isaac make his way around the room, inspecting hands and pronouncing them clean.

Rebecca does not look like she wants to give up Bea, but you tell her you’ll invite her over in a few days, as long as she doesn’t mind a messy house and takeout. She reluctantly hands Bea to Dani, who is beaming so hard you’re worried for his face muscles.

Jamie, meanwhile, rests his head on yours.

He leans down and whispers, “Hey babe?”

“Hm?” you respond.

“I’m going to fall asleep standing up. D’you think Bea would be fine if we crashed in Ted’s office?”

You grin. You think Bea would be fine anywhere there’s a member of AFC Richmond.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

404 notes · View notes

juyeonszn · 4 months

Text

JE NE SAIS QUOI

PAIRING jacob bae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 7.33k

GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒itty bitty angst

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, strangers to ?? to lovers, volleyball team captain!jacob (ohhhh ive been waiting for this one..), lots of 97 liner cameos, jacob is an honorary tbz frat member but isn’t actually a member lol, reader is down bad for him, mentions of alcohol, volleyball terms that i learned from haikyuu 😭, an annoying ex girlfriend, AURKAY here we go: bathroom sex, wall sex, bathroom sink counter sex, and mirror sex all in one, doggy style and also missionary? i guess?, NO FOREPLAY BUT FUCK IT WE FALL LIKE SOLDIERS FOR REAL, marking-ish, unprotected sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, and everyone’s favorite! creampie!, a cutesy ending

SUMMARY jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. so stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. however, after meeting you at one of the tbz parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

MORE HELLAURRRR ok i know this is 45 mins overdue but i barely finished this last night and i worked at 5 am this morning so 😭 ANYWAYYY this fic is actually my favorite so far… idk i just have this natural writing affinity when it comes to jacob which u can tell by the length…. if u enjoyed pls reblog! and don’t forget to check out the other fics in the series!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr

TAGLIST @millksea

SERIES MASTERLIST

“And there’s another point for the IST U Bears. Wow these boys are on fire tonight.”

The announcer’s voice booms throughout the gymnasium, intertwining with the cheers of the crowd. They all sound like the buzzing of a bee in Jacob’s ears, but that’s a good thing. It pricks at his skin, lighting it on fire and getting his morale going.

The team just needed one more point and they would win this set, sending them on their way to the championship game. This would be the first time in IST history that their boys’ volleyball team would make it this far, and that was all thanks to Jacob becoming captain for his senior year.

Their coach calls for a quick time out, giving Jacob a moment of reprieve before his final serve of the game. He wipes away the sweat on his forehead, shaking the front of his jersey to air it out and cool him down a little. The team’s manager passes him a water bottle. He loves the adrenaline rush that courses through his veins when he’s on the court. It’s unlike any other feeling he’s ever felt in his life.

“Alright, Bae. You’ve got this, right?” Jacob’s coach gives him a pointed look.

“Of course, Coach. There’s no way in hell that we’re losing this game tonight.” He gives him a firm nod, lips curled into a confident smile. There wasn’t a chance that Jacob Bae would go down without a fight. He was securing that championship seat whether anyone liked it or not.

The team heads back out and a referee hands Jacob the volleyball. He blows a raspberry, twirling the ball on his fingertips while waiting for the whistle. As soon as he hears it, he takes a couple steps back. A breeze cuts through his hair when he runs, executing his infamous jump serve with practiced ease. The ball flies past the players of the other team, hitting the court just in front of the line.

His teammates are yelling and throttling his body around before he even realizes that they’ve won. Some of them are riling up the crowd, others are on their knees crying tears of joy. He was anticipating this outcome, but for some reason he’s still shell shocked. Everything around him is static and white noise.

“Holy shit, Jacob. I can’t believe you did that,” Kim Mingyu, the team’s star middle blocker, slaps him on the back. He’s also drenched in sweat, patting his face with a towel.

“You and me both, to be completely honest.” Jacob laughs a bit, collecting his things so he can head to the locker room.

He’s slightly grateful that tonight’s game ended a little early, giving him enough time to get ready before the Tau Beta Zeta party. He wasn’t even that big of a party person. He only went to provide moral support for his friends who happened to all be in the fraternity. Most people would even go as far as assuming he was also in it considering how often he was spotted at that house, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He actually thought fraternities were dumb. In his eyes, they held no purpose.

A bunch of guys living together under the guise of brotherhood when in reality they spent most of their time partying was just stupid. You could do that without the fancy titles or the expected respect from fellow students. He loved his friends, truly, but he didn’t understand the hype.

Jacob showers quickly and changes into a hoodie and some baggy jeans. He ruffles his hair in front of a mirror, grabbing his backpack and swinging it over his shoulder. As he’s preparing to leave, someone calls out to him.

“Yo, Cobie! Are you going to the TBZ party?”

He spins around to find the source, learning it belongs to Jeong Jaehyun. The setter nods, pulling his hood over his head. “Like I always do. Why?”

“I heard through the grapevine that Haeun was going with some friends. I just thought I’d warn you,” he squeezes the shoulder that isn’t hoisting his backpack. “I figured you’d want to take things chill this next week with the championship game on Friday.”

Jacob hums in response and Jaehyun takes that as his cue to be on his way. Of course this would be his luck. Just as he thinks life is getting easier for him, something has to come and throw a curveball at him. This something happened to be his ex-girlfriend, who’d done nothing but terrorize Jacob while they were together. Imagine the most toxic, vile person in the world, then dress her in Jimmy Choo sandals and a designer handbag. That was Haeun.

The only logical reason for her to attend the TBZ party was because his friends were still trying to rack up their numbers. He wouldn’t put it past them if that meant acquiring any and every student on campus. After tonight they would find out who won the stupid competition between them and the KAT sorority, hopefully putting a pin in their godforsaken rivalry once and for all. The winner determined if he was even going to the big end of semester party or not.

Jacob sighs, heading out so he can help out his friends in any way he can. Now that he’s been cursed with the knowledge that he might run into his ex, he’s half tempted to just ditch the whole thing. (He won’t, but the idea is flirting with him.) They’ve been broken up for well over a year now, but somehow she always manages to worm her way back and make him miserable. Quite frankly, he’s tired of it.

When Jacob arrives at the Tau Beta Zeta house, his friends are all over the place. Sangyeon is typing away on his phone, pacing back and forth in the living room. The action from the calm and collected fraternity president makes him kind of nervous. He escapes into the kitchen where Sunwoo and Eric are putting away all of the alcohol. Kevin and Chanhee are complaining about God knows what to each other, and he can faintly hear Hyunjae and Haknyeon upstairs. His juniors start clapping and hollering as soon as they see him enter.

“Woah woah woah, we’ve got a celebrity on our hands guys.” Eric jokes, dapping up the older male.

“Congrats, Cobie,” Sunwoo joins in, fist bumping his senior and handing him a beer bottle. “Do you think you’re gonna win next week?”

“I sure hope so,” Jacob snorts, uncapping the bottle with the opener on the fridge. “I didn’t bring us all this way for nothing.”

Nothing super eventful happens after that, just the guys setting up for the party. They’re projecting that this is the one that secures their victory for the competition. Jacob really couldn’t care less, sitting himself on the couch and scrolling through his phone as he nurses his beer. They all maneuver around him, setting up speakers here, lights there. It’s all pointless in his eyes.

When the party has finally started and the house is packed with partygoers, Jacob hasn’t budged from his spot. The only reason he has a fresh beer is because Eric grabbed one for him in passing. This was what he subjected himself to for hours on end every Friday night. His ass cemented to one of the sofas in the living room and his phone being his main source of entertainment.

It’s as you’re exiting the kitchen with your friends that you notice him. You laugh into your drink at the boredom written all over his face. His extremely handsome face. His hair falls into his eyes and slightly obstructs his vision, but that just accelerates the beating of your heart. You don’t know what it is, but there’s something about him that makes you want to learn his name and everything there is about him.

“Y/N, have you found a nice boy to give you a fun time before hell week?” Haeun asks you, running perfectly manicured fingernails through her hair. “That’s the whole point of being here, isn’t it?”

You didn’t want to tag along, honestly. You were content with staying in tonight and studying for your A&PII exam. You only agreed to get Haeun off your back, because you were well aware of how annoying she could get when she didn’t get what she wanted. She gave the KAT sorority president a run for her money sometimes.

“Uh, no. I’ll just see where the night takes me,” you shrug, keeping a poker face so she doesn’t see who you’re already ogling.

Knowing her, she would make it difficult for you. She would torture you and tease you relentlessly because that was just who she was. Haeun wasn’t satisfied unless she felt good about herself. You didn’t know why you were still friends with her. Maybe it was because she was one of the first people who sought you out after your transfer to IST. Maybe it was because you were afraid of being blacklisted by practically every other student if you dropped her. Her power was insane.

“Boring,” she drags out the vowels, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna see if Cha Eunwoo is here yet.”

You watch as she disappears into the sardine-packed house, looking for the senior. Your other friend, Minjee, just sighs once the dictator is out of earshot— which isn’t even that far considering how loud the music is. She turns to you with a weak smile.

“Don’t let her ruin anything for you. Just go enjoy yourself before she does.”

You don’t need to be told a second time, chugging the contents of your red solo cup for some liquid courage. Your mission was simple; be ten times more fun than the party itself. That would surely catch Couch Boy’s attention. It wasn’t like the Tau Beta Zeta guys didn’t put all their effort into throwing the craziest parties at the school, but clearly this dude wasn’t for it.

Your feet carry you over to the living room, your teeth chewing on your lip nervously. You’d never hit on someone before, let alone at a party. The scariest part was the potential rejection in front of hundreds of your peers. But it was okay! You could do this. You think.

“Hi.”

The word leaves your mouth without your brain even registering it, eyes wide like you’d just done something wrong. He looks up from his phone, mirroring your expression. His tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip and then he’s scooting over to make room for you.

“Hi,” he says after a few seconds.

“I’m Y/n,” you extend your hand awkwardly, but he takes it, shaking it with a firm grip that has you crossing your legs. “I— uh— this is kinda weird, but um— I saw you from over there and thought you were cute.”

You swallow thickly, tucking some hair behind your ear. How did Haeun do this on the regular? He smiles at your fumbling and oh God, you think you might pass out from how attractive he is. You don’t have much alcohol in your system and you’re starting to regret how sober you are.

“I’m Jacob,” he rests an arm on the back of the couch. “Thanks for coming up to me. I would’ve missed your pretty face otherwise.”

Is he flirting with you? Holy shit, he’s flirting with you.

“Do you come to Tau Beta Zeta parties often?” You ask to continue the conversation. He nods.

“I practically live here,” Jacob laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. “How about you, Y/N? What are you studying?”

Oh, so he was one of the members. You wouldn’t have guessed with how disinterested he seemed at his own party. It takes you a moment to realize he’s shifted the focus onto you, scanning your features for a response. You purse your lips.

“Not really. I’m more of a homebody. I’m only here to let loose before finals. I actually just transferred to IST U this semester for the exceptional Pre-Med department. I’m still sorta navigating my way around and meeting people.”

So that’s why he’s never seen you on campus. You’re completely new to the school and you’re in a completely different department than he is. Nonetheless, you’re really cute and Jacob hasn’t put himself out there since breaking up with Haeun. He’s been so concentrated on maintaining his grades and putting in the work for volleyball, he hasn’t even had the time to. But now that finals and the championship game are all next week, he supposes he can allot some just this once…

“How are you liking it here so far?” He asks you genuinely. It winds you a little. You’ve never had someone actually care about what you had to say or show interest in you. Even at your old school, no one batted an eye at you. You doubt anyone knew you transferred.

“The campus itself is beautiful. It’s a lot bigger than my previous one. And so far, everyone’s been nothing but kind to me. I wish I would’ve gone with my gut and came here straight out of high school.” You pick at a thread on your skirt.

“We all live and we all learn, that’s a part of life,” Jacob shrugs, nudging your leg with his foot. “Would you like to grab another drink with me?”

“Yeah, that would be great, actually.” You both stand from the couch.

Since sitting with him, the party has grown in size. Fellow students filled every available corner of the house, nearly standing body to body in order to fit everyone in the building. The amount of attendees should be a fire hazard, honestly. Jacob laces your fingers together so he doesn’t lose you in the mass of people blocking the path to the kitchen. There’s a game of Rage Cage going on where there’s usually a round of beer pong and it looks like this one guy is about to die with how many empty cups are in front of him.

“What are you drinking?” Jacob turns to you once you’ve reached the alcohol table. You shake your head.

“Surprise me.”

“You’re playing Russian Roulette here, Y/N,” his lips curl up into a devious smile that most people would run away from, especially when it’s on the face of a stranger. “You’re really trusting me with your life right now.”

Luckily, you’ve always been into that type of thing. Nice guys who looked like they could give you an unforgettable night. And in the short period you’ve known Jacob, he appeared to be just that. All you can do is nip at your lower lip, the fleet of a smile gracing his sight.

He passes you a cup and gestures for you to taste his concoction. It burns the course of your throat, but doesn’t remind you of straight battery acid. You give him a thumbs up of approval and he cheers, fist bumping the air. You giggle at his reaction. Perhaps stepping out of your comfort zone was the best decision you’ve made all night. He knocks his own cup against yours and takes a swig, wincing.

“I might’ve made mine just a bit stronger than usual,” his voice is hoarse and you can’t help but laugh a little harder. “I put all of my expertise into yours.”

“It’s good to know you’re a gentleman and you’re not trying to get me drunk on purpose,” you tease, sipping at the beverage gingerly. “However, that does mean you’ll need to be flashier in your attempts to woo me. I have very high standards.”

Jacob’s smile widens, his teeth peeking from behind his lips. The expression makes you lightheaded. It should be a crime to look as good as he does, without even trying either. “I don’t know… All I’m hearing is that you want me to woo you…”

He’s caught you red-handed, but it isn’t like you were doing much to conceal that fact. You’d like to think you were being very obvious with your intentions on purpose. You glance up at him from the rim of your cup, your lower back leaning on the counter. “Maybe I do… Are you opposed to that, Jacob?”

He takes a step closer to you, and then another until he has you caged between him and the kitchen counter. Really, he couldn’t give any less of a fuck about the clusters of people nearby. When Jacob Bae had a goal in mind, he made damn sure to work for it. His volleyball career could attest to that. His drink slides across the surface, spilling a little on the back of his hand. He leans down to your ear. “Not at all. But I don’t think you’ll be able to handle what happens when I succeed.”

You feel your cheeks warm, your throat drying, and it’s not because of the effects from the alcohol you’ve just consumed. You’ve known this guy, what, thirty minutes max? And he was already figuring out exactly what it took to get your gears grinding? What a quick fucking leaner. He knows he’s won, too, if the way you’ve gone cotton-mouthed is anything to go by. The ghost of a grin brushes the shell of your ear and it requires the entirety of your strength not to pounce on this stranger in the middle of this goddamn party.

“Everybody who isn’t Tau Beta Zeta, get the fuck out! Someone called the cops!”

A record scratch-like halt puts a pin in the moment, forcing Jacob to step away from you with a groan. This would be just your luck, wouldn’t it? You found a ‘nice boy to give you a fun time before hell week’ and then this stupid party gets raided. It’s annoying, actually. Aggravating, even. Your lips unconsciously form pout out of disappointment and Jacob feels a piece of himself die along with it.

“Shit, you gotta get out of here before they show up and start dragging people out,” he runs a hand through his hair with a hiss.

If it had been a minute earlier, you would’ve fallen to your knees by now. Unfortunately, that was not the case. You needed to find Haeun and Minjee. You do a quick 180° in hopes of spotting either of them.

“Yeah, I need to find my—” You interrupt yourself when you see the former of the two stomping towards you with an indistinguishable look in her eye. “—Friends…”

“Let’s go, Y/N,” her tone is snappy and she glances over at Jacob for a brief moment. You don’t have time to realize what’s happening until her petite fingers are wrapping around your wrist, hauling you out of the kitchen. A yelp escapes your lips as you turn to wave to your… whatever he is to you now.

Initially, you assumed she was just ticked off by the whole cop call thing. At least, that made sense if she’d gotten anywhere with that Cha Eunwoo guy she had been talking about all day leading up to the party. But then Minjee’s driving you back your apartment and she’s whipping around in the passenger seat to give you the nastiest glare you’ve ever been on the receiving end of.

“What the hell is your problem?” She looks two seconds away from bursting a vein in her forehead.

“Wh— huh?” You’re thoroughly confused. What the fuck did you do to her?

“Why were you talking to Jacob Bae? You do know that’s my ex, right?” Her gaze has softened, but could still very much kill you if she wanted to. The wrath of Lee Haeun was more terrifying than that of any horror movie villain to ever exist.

No.

No no no no. The world stops on its axis and it’s like you’ve been told your favorite song was written about a used tissue. You don’t hear anything else she says, feeling like you just had ear muffs placed over your head. This isn’t fair. The universe officially hated you. You were number one on the list of people who deserved the worst possible fate, your name underlined twice with red ink and a star beside it.

You really didn’t have it in you to care about what Haeun thought. If this was the reason you were finally given to stop talking to her, then so be it. What you were worried about was Jacob hating you. He clearly saw that you were friends. Why would he want to pursue anything with one of his ex’s friends? Any sane person would avoid that situation if they could.

Despite not knowing that it was Jacob specifically, you knew the details of their breakup and why things ended so messily. It made sense that she was an authoritarian even in her relationships. That was just in her nature. If she didn’t control every aspect of her life, she would lose her mind. Normally you wouldn’t have batted an eye at that, not nearly enough energy in you to deal with that level of bossiness. But it was starting to bleed into your personal life. And that was a line you weren’t so willing to let her cross.

You could only pray that this was fixable.

Finals week passes by in a breeze, and before he knows it, Jacob is on the court for the championship game. There’s a different aura to him than there usually is when it comes to his volleyball games. He feels ten times more determined. (He would never admit to anyone that it’s because he’s hoping he’ll see you at the end of semester party tonight.)

He actually really enjoyed your presence and your personality. The rate at which his heart beat around you was something he hadn’t felt in a while and it was nice. He liked those little butterflies that came with the start of something new. He liked the jitters and the giggles and everything in between. It reminded him that there was still youth, there was still excitement in his life.

Sure, it was kind of weird that you were friends with his ex-girlfriend. The same ex-girlfriend that he couldn’t stand being in the same room as for more than five minutes at a time. But from your reaction to her dragging you away, Jacob thinks that you didn’t know about him and Haeun. If you did, you wouldn’t have gone up to him in the first place. Unless you knew and just didn’t care, then he didn’t care either. It’s not like he ever plans to allow Haeun to resurface and sink her nails back into him. That’s one mistake he’ll never make again.

Before he knows it, he’s swapping back into the game. He rolls his neck and pops his fingers, getting into position to receive this next serve. Even with this fire lit underneath him, both teams are neck and neck. With every point that IST scored, the opposing team would just catch back up without breaking a sweat. If Jacob wasn’t captain and wasn’t used to being so calm and collected during matches, he’d probably start getting as pissed as Kim Mingyu looks right now.

The referee blows his whistle and the ball is over the net. Jeon Jungkook, the team’s libero, dives for it, the volleyball bouncing off the back of his hand and back up into the air. It’s currently the fourth set and IST has two under their belt. They needed to win this one lest they wanted to go into the fifth. Everyone is on edge, but won’t stop at nothing that isn’t victory. Jacob shifts to set the ball to Jaehyun, who swings his arm back and spikes it to the other side of the court.

One of their players receives it with ease, and they’re back to square one. There’s that back and forth of both teams setting and spiking, only for the other to receive and send it back over. Jacob feels like this game is never gonna end, especially with how agile their libero is and how in tune he is with their setter. But then he makes eye contact with Lee Seokmin, an opposite hitter who’s proven time and time again that he’ll go wherever Jacob needs him to, do whatever Jacob wants him to. And that’s exactly what he does.

Mingyu bumps the ball towards the net and just when they think Jacob’s going to set it, he swaps places with Seokmin. The hitter gets beneath the volleyball and pushes it off the tip of his fingers, watching as Jacob perfectly times his jump to smack it with the palm of his hand. It’s something the two had only ever practiced a handful of times, but knew it would come in handy when everything was right. The entire interaction is flawless, and the captain’s spike lands, scoring that final point that IST needed to win the set and the game.

Just like the previous game, Jacob doesn’t even register the roaring cheers from everyone around him until they’re throwing him and Seokmin up like they themselves were volleyballs. The team is going insane, hyping up the crowd and running around the court like children. A sense of pride swells in Jacob’s chest, a crinkly-eyed smile nestling on his face like the fondness of a father.

They continue the joy-train all the way into the locker room. Jacob showers and throws on some gray cargo pants, pairing them with a black half-zip jacket. Most of the team was going to the end of semester party tonight, treating it as a post-celebratory reward for their big win. It was still so surreal for the captain. All of the pressure that had been riding on him the entire season, the strive for being someone bigger than himself. He’s grateful it paid off.

Meanwhile, you were damn near ripping your hair out, nerves eating away at the edges of your stomach like you were with the skin around your nails. After a taxing week of final exams and the anxiety of wanting to see Jacob Bae again to clear any bad air, you found yourself at the TBZ end of semester party along with Haeun and Minjee. You were thankful that your life was intact, Haeun’s irritation simmering into something a lot more bearable.

Though just a smidge pissed off that you didn’t do your research, she wasn’t as mad about the whole break of girl-code incident. She got off of your back a little too easily, though, so you were still waiting for another strike. You couldn’t help but feel as if she was planning another form of action.

You’d been at this party for at least an hour, and the attendance was double that of last week’s. They weren’t kidding when they said this was the party of all parties at IST University. You were starting to think that maybe Jacob really was going to avoid you like you were the Black Plague or equivalent. Why else would he not be at one of his own parties? Wasn’t it, like, a requirement for fraternity members to make an appearance at the things they hosted?

Being friends with Haeun really screwed everything up for you. Not only did you have to sleep with one eye open, but also keep your distance from just about every male on campus out of fear that she fucked with them, too. Why did it have to be Jacob Bae? Why couldn’t it have been someone more douchey, more up her alley? He was way too sweet, way too cute for someone of her kind. He deserved someone that could hand him the world. (Not that you were insinuating that it was you, but even you knew you were a better person than Lee Haeun.)

And as if a higher being truly existed, your prayers are answered in the form of Jacob Bae walking through the front door. A gaggle of partygoers surround him and the group of guys he’s with, including some of the fraternity brothers. You faintly hear whoops and hollers over the near deafening music, everyone patting them on their backs. Most of the attention is on Jacob and his gorgeous smile, though.

“IST U’s pride and joy! National volleyball champion, Jacob-fucking-Bae,” Lee Hyunjae wolf-whistles, shaking him around like he was maraca.

Jacob laughs, looking down at the floor to shy away from all of the eyes on him. He’s glad everybody is pleased with his accomplishment, but really all he wants to do is find you. He’s still not 100% sure you’re even here, but he has high hopes that maybe you were into him as much as he was with you. Now that he’s free of both volleyball and schoolwork for a while, he can take his time getting to know you better.

You psych yourself up to go over to him once his audience has parted and gone back to whatever it was they were doing prior to his arrival. A grimace consumes your features as you knock back the cup of jungle juice in your hand, blowing a raspberry. Minjee gives you a smile of encouragement, like she knows exactly what you’re about to do.

However, someone beats you to it. You watch with bated breath as Haeun flips her hair over her shoulder, her heels clicking on the wooden floor all the way up to Jacob. The sight of another girl talking to the guy you’re interested in has never made you as ill as it does right now, her glossy lips pouted and her hands clasped behind her back.

“Heard about the big win, Jakey,” she smiles almost evilly, calling him by a nickname that he hasn’t been called in months. “Wanna claim your prize?”

Jacob knows what she’s doing. It’s obvious. Haeun saw the two of you together last week and now she’s pretending that she gives a shit just so she can feel like she’s the one in control. He’s seen this scene too many times to fall for it. He pokes his cheek with his tongue, hands shoving into the front pocket of his jacket.

“Don’t you have someone else that you can bother, tonight? I’m spoken for.” He shrugs, stepping around her. Okay, so perhaps you’d only had one conversation together. That was enough for him. He doesn’t have to search far or wide for you, a grin replacing his deadpan once he sees your face. “Hi.”

“H-Hi,” your voice comes out unsteady. “I— uh— wh— well, I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

His eyebrows quirks up. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m friends with your tyrant of an ex-girlfriend and I’m a horrible person for still wanting you,” you begin to ramble, playing with a strand of your hair. “And then you weren’t here.”

Jacob laughs, pushing your hand down and tucking the same piece behind your ear. “I don’t really care that you’re friends with Haeun. Honestly, no one’s ever *really friends with her. It’s hard to stand a person who’s that insufferable. And I’m on the volleyball team. Tonight was the championship game, which is why I was late.”

“So you don’t hate me and want me to die?”

“I could never.” He shakes his head, taking one of your hands into his.

“If that’s the case, then can you show me how to properly enjoy a frat party?” You trace patterns on his palm.

“I’ll be so real with you, Y/N, even *I don’t know how to do that,” he snorts. “I’m not a Tau Beta Zeta member, so I guess that explains it.”

“Woah what?” You gape at him. “This entire time I thought you were…”

“Nah, I’m just friends with all of the guys here. I might as well be, but I’m not. Frats are stupid to me,” Jacob leads you out of the living room and into the kitchen to get himself a drink. “Though, I don’t think they’re that bad anymore.”

As he’s reaching for an empty cup, a thought crosses your mind. It’s bold, but you don’t have the willpower to force it away. “You know, you didn’t get to show me what would happen if you succeeded in sweeping me off of my feet.”

He pauses what he’s doing, turning to glance at you over his shoulder with dark eyes. Are you saying what he thinks you’re saying?

“And something’s telling me you were extremely successful.”

*Fuck the drink, Jacob thinks to himself, dropping the cup in favor of whisking you away. He pulls you into the nearest empty room, which happens to be the downstairs bathroom. From one second to the next, you’re pinned to the door, both of your wrists firm in his grip. He’s so close that his nose nudges yours, lips only a hair’s breadth from your own.

“Should’ve known you were dangerous from the get go,” he breathes, the distance between you driving you crazy. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

A gasp escapes you, your eyelids fluttering shut. This was pure insanity. Before you can complain about the lack of contact, Jacob’s mouth is on yours, lips moving against yours so skillfully and so roughly. He takes your wrists into one hand, holding them above your head while the other slips beneath your top. His fingertips burn into your skin and you don’t hold back the whine that sneaks out from your chest.

You pull back for air, sighing when his kiss travels down your neck and focuses on your collarbone. It’s not enough, you need to feel him everywhere. Your pulse is racing and you’re sure he can feel it when he leaves a trail of nibbles and kisses along your jawline. They travel south, paving their path on what’s visible of your jugular and sternum.

There’s a haste of fingers roaming and lips exploring. This was uncharted territory for, seeing as you hadn’t been in a situation like this since moving schools. If there was anyone you wanted to get down and dirty with in the bathroom of a frat party, it was Jacob Bae. His free hand wanders under your skirt, a knuckle running along your clothed, but damp, slit. You both hiss.

“Already so wet for me?” He asks you smugly, the curve of his smile carved into the space where your ear meets your neck. You don’t have the patience to power through any teasing.

“Need you so bad, Jacob,” you don’t like the pitchiness of your voice, or how you’re pretty much begging right now. “Wanna skip the foreplay.”

Jacob grins almost wickedly, kissing the tip of your nose. “So ready and so eager for me. Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t waste any time getting you out of your clothes, starting with your top and then shoving your skirt past your thighs. You kick it off and move to help him. His jacket comes off in one fluid motion, giving you the perfect display of his muscular back and toned abdomen. All of years of volleyball came to fruition in the form of his godlike sculpted body.

You drag a nail through the valley of his abs, unbuttoning his cargoes and palming him through his underwear. He curses under his breath, forehead falling to your shoulder. You may very well be the death of him, he decides. When he’s finally had enough, he swats your hand away, removing the briefs so he can give you what you so graciously asked for. He pumps his length a couple times before guiding the tip to your entrance.

Jacob hooks one of your legs around his waist, pushing your panties to the side so he can slip into you carefully. You don’t even stop the moan that breaches your vocal cords, back arching off of the door and your chest pushing into his. The stretch burns slightly, but not nearly enough to interrupt the pleasure coursing throughout your body. There’s a fire in the pit of your stomach that he fans the flames of the deeper he sinks into you, lips imprinted into the skin of your neck.

His fingers burn the skin of your thigh where he holds it up, slowly pressing his cock into cunt and sliding out as soon as he bottoms out. You’re dizzy, so dizzy that stars have begun to form behind your eyelids and he’s only just started. He rocks into you at a meticulous pace, the blunt nails of his other hand digging into your hip to keep himself composed.

He wants to take his time with you first. He wants you to feel every ridge and vein of his cock as your walls squeeze him in. He wants the feeling of the two of you connected to be engraved into your brain, a memory that nothing could erase even if it tried. Your head knocks against the door when you crane it to give him more access to the column of your throat, whining when he sucks marks into the surface.

“F-Fuck, Jacob,” you whimper. “Feel— god— feel so, so stuffed.”

You practically hiccup your words, overstimulated with everything that’s going on at once. It’s too much. The way he nips at your skin. The way he groans every time you clench around him. The way he’s *buried into you like you were the only source of warmth he’ll ever get. It’s too much, but it feels fucking fantastic.

“Yeah, baby? Am I fucking you good? Giving it to you like no one else can?” He exerts himself, his lips slipping on the thin sheen of sweat coating your bodies. All you can do is moan again, bucking your hips into his to minimize the gap between you as much as physically possible.

His cock is just the right balance of girth and length, filling you up and hitting the spots you need him to. Your sanity falls through the cracks with every click of his hips into yours. He *is fucking you good. He *is giving it to you like no one else can. It didn’t even take him long to figure out what you liked, using that knowledge to his advantage so he could ravage you.

You’re too lost in the pleasure to notice the coil in your stomach curling to the point of snapping. With each ram of his dick in your pussy, he winds you up more and more until it breaks in half. You see nothing but white for a few seconds, spots of various colors bleeding into it. A sound so far away from you bursts out from its home in the back of your throat. Your orgasm coaxes out his, painting your walls with milky ropes and a moan of his own.

The two of you pant breathlessly, lips brushing as you attempt to calm down. Jacob pinches your side, kissing you once before pulling out and letting go of your hip. “Do you have the energy to give me one more? I don’t think I’m finished with you just yet.”

You let out a guttural groan, nodding and colliding your mouths in another desperate kiss. Your fingers run through the strands of his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck as he transfers you to sink. He spins you around, bending you over the counter and pecking your shoulder as he eases his cock back into the velvet of your pussy.

You’re both still sensitive, sighing at the feeling of a second intrusion. He grips your hip and presses down on your lower back just as he speeds up the pacing of his thrusts. Instinctively, you hike up a knee onto the counter, wanting him even deeper and even harder than previously. Heat pools in that same spot at the base of your abdomen, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Look in the mirror, sweetheart,” he grunts, throwing his head back and tightening his grasp on your waist. “Want you to watch me fuck you stupid.”

You wail, eyes heavy lidded as you witness Jacob plowing into you from behind. It hurts, the fact that you can’t even convey into sounds how amazing it feels. They’re all trapped in your chest and throat, begging to be set free. You wish they could bounce off of the walls, reverberating in your ears. Your cheeks are wet from the tears that have spilled over. You look like a mess with your makeup smeared and your face puffy. Anyone who saw you after this would know exactly what went down in this bathroom.

Jacob doesn’t slow his assault, instead hovering over and trapping you beneath his broad frame. He drills into you deeper, harder, faster— and oh god you don’t want him to stop. You think he’s making good on his word, fucking you so insanely stupid that not a single thought occupies your mind. All there is, is Jacob Bae and the deliciousness of his cock wedging itself further into your cunt like he wants to live there.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. So so well,” he coos, your back curving into his chest.

Your elbows might give out from supporting your weight and now Jacob’s too, especially with how empty your head is. You don’t really have the consciousness to keep yourself up. It’s at the point where the mirror has started to fog, a blurry image of him abusing your pussy in your line of sight.

He knows you’re on the brink of an orgasm, your walls spasming slightly in warning. He pulls out enough to flip you onto your back, pushing in and resuming where he left off. His thumb sneaks down to your clit, rubbing in precise circles with precise pressure. Despite there being no mirror covered in steam in the shape of your bodies in front of you, your vision is still hazy. You can barely see the expressions Jacob makes, his brows knitting together and lower lip between his teeth.

You pull him down to connect your mouths, whining into him as he continues to fuck into you like there wasn’t a whole party still going on on the side of the door. Your knees are folded to your chest, allowing his cock to kiss all the way inside of you. “I’m— fuck— so close, Cobie.”

“C’mon, baby, you can cum for me,” he goads, applying more pressure to the shape he’s drawing on your clit.

One particularly timed thrust and the bumping of his pelvic bone on the sensitive bundle of nerves tips you off of your peak. Your climax washes over you, tidal waves of pleasure cresting at full force. You moan loudly, the rippling of your walls triggering Jacob’s own release.

He pulls out gently, for the final time. His chest rises and falls rapidly, in sync with yours. You’re both exhausted, spent from going at it like jackrabbits— as if you’d never get the chance to do it again. You meet eyes and then burst into laughter, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks.

“That was… Wow…” You breathe, moving some of his hair from obstructing his eyesight.

“I always follow through with my promises, you know,” he wraps his arms around your waist. “So, what do I get now that I’ve wooed you?”

You press the hints of a kiss to his lips. “An exclusive all-access pass to me, my phone number, and the rights to ask me out on a date whenever you please.”

Jacob smiles that crinkle eye smile of his, knowing full well that he plans on cashing all three of those right now. He may have not been the biggest fan of fraternities or their parties, but he sure as hell loved them at this moment in time.

He thinks he was a winner in more ways than one that night.

#deoboyznet #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz jacob #tbz jacob #jacob bae x reader #jacob bae smut #jacob x reader #jacob smut #juyeonszn #blackoutorbackout🍻

307 notes · View notes