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lovelyhan · 1 year

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— thirst trap ⟢

pairing: seungcheol x reader

summary: when your boyfriend posts a deliberate thirst trap for millions to see, you end up feeling just a little bit sulky.

word count: 2.8k words

tags: established relationship, fluff, smut

warnings: implied hand kink? graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: cheol ghosts us all on ig for almost a month then comes back and drops those fucking selfies like it's no one's business!?!?!?!?! i want to BITE him !! heads up that this isn't proofread :')

smut tags: phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose

seungcheol taglist: @changk6un - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx

Seungcheol updates his Instagram page sparingly—this is a well-known fact.

Though he's, by no means, an inactive user, your boyfriend often leaves his fans and followers wondering when he's going to bother dropping his next selca because of how long the intervals between his posts are. He uploads an average of two pictures per month. Three if he's feeling generous.

So when he finally posts one after almost a month of radio silence on his socials, it's practically a godsent miracle.

You still have his post notifications turned on, despite the fact that he often asks you to choose from an assortment of shots before posting them altogether.

After all, there are instances where Seungcheol has to make quick PR, when he doesn't have the time to ask which boyfriend pics you'll allow him to post for the world to see, and which ones you wanted to keep for yourself.

Times like this, for example.

You don't get to check his latest post right away when your phone dings with the notification—as you were wrapping up some leftover work you decided to continue at home. Although, you were half-expecting another brand collaboration of some sort. He's been getting lots of those lately.

But when you finally find the time to pull up on his Instagram page, you're greeted by an adorable mirror selca on the first slide, and it has you pouting at him.

Well, adorable isn't the right word for it, really.

Seungcheol's head is tilted upward while he stares down at the screen of his phone—looking smug as hell especially with the way his dark hair fall over his eyes. But he's finally using the cherry patterned phone case you got for him last Christmas, as well as the Shin-chan popsocket that Jeonghan gave him as a souvenir from his trip to Japan. Coupled with his natural curls, you're able to overlook that tantalizing look on his face in favor of gushing about those other details instead.

You double-tap the picture before checking out the other photos. There are three slides in total, and you can already picture Seungcheol showing off his dimples or making a kissy face to balance out his borderline sultry expression in the first slide. He knows damn well that he's daddy-coded and tends to even that out with some aegyo here and there.

The second photo gives you a better view of his whereabouts—one of the boxing gyms just a few blocks away from their company's office building.

Seungcheol has taken you there once before to give you a feel of the basic training regimen, but after a few sessions, you concluded that you're just going to have to stick to your regular workouts after all.

You snicker when you realize he's wearing that silly designer Pop-Eye cardigan—showing off his dimples as expected. You've been together for so long, that you practically have Seungcheol's go-to poses engraved in your mind.

When you finally swipe to the last slide, however, the smile on your face vanishes in an instant.

The cardigan is off, and you're met with the sight of your boyfriend donned with a fitted gray shirt. It's not your first time seeing it, and it's not his first time wearing it, but you're pretty damn sure his followers have yet to see this particular form-fitting shirt while he's at the gym.

You puff out your cheeks in some form of indignance. It's only been three hours since Seungcheol posted the pictures, but he's already racked up 900,000 likes in that timespan. You're not sure if you feel happy about it or not.

Heat prickles the back of your neck as you scroll down to see the caption he attached to the post.

Mind over body🖤

"Mind over body my ass," you scoff before taking a nosedive into his comment section. If Seungcheol's showing something off here, it's definitely not his mind.

Reading through all the thirsty things his followers are saying about him used to be a past time of yours, where Seungcheol would turn red from embarrassment as you recited each one aloud with a scandalous tone. If you play your cards right he's perfectly easy to fluster.

But now, as you scroll through the fifth comment asking him for a headlock, you feel a nasty feeling coiling in your chest—one that you immediately realize is possessiveness.

You knew that dating an idol means that you're virtually sharing him with his fans until he decides to quit. Even if Seungcheol has never made you feel like he's anything but yours, the fact still stands that he's being perceived by thousands of people all over the world.

He knows that. He knows that damn well, so of course he'll treat everyone and their mothers to a goddamn thirst trap on what was supposed to be a quiet Friday night.

You scroll back up to the collection of photos Seungcheol decided to grace the world with—biting your lip when you realize just how well his biceps fill out the sleeves of that stupid shirt. If only he hadn't taken off that stupid Pop-Eye cardigan, you wouldn't be having such a dilemma right now.

It doesn't help that you're starting to notice how nice his hands look in every picture. Fuck.

Despite being on break from group activities, Seungcheol has had a couple of solo ventures keeping him occupied over the past few days. It's been about a week since you last saw him in person, and a month since the two of you fooled around in bed.

Surely, the jury won't condemn you for becoming all hot and bothered because of how tempting Seungcheol's thick fingers are in those photos, right?

Just when you're about to put your phone down and schedule a relaxing evening with one of your vibrators, a text notification hovers at the top of your screen.

Cheol: hey, baby, how was work? is it ok to call now?

God fucking dammit.

Me: just finished. yeah, you can call :)

It doesn't even take Seungcheol a full minute before your phone starts vibrating in your hand. You sigh, answering without another thought.

"Hi," Seungcheol says.

"Hi," you tell him back. "Aren't you tired? You went to Music Bank today, right?"

Your boyfriend sighs, and you hear some rustling on the other end of the line. He must be in bed by now.

"A little, but it's not like we were the ones performing at the music show today," he chuckles. "If anyone's tired, it's definitely Seokmin, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung. They haven't had a proper rest day since the album was released."

You sigh. "And you're having a group comeback in a couple of months, too. Poor guys."

"Yeah. That's why I asked Wonwoo and Mingyu to come with me to check on them. Idiots don't usually have a proper gauge of their own personal limits."

"That's rich, coming from an idiot leader who doesn't know how to take his own breaks either," you interject, rolling your eyes even though he can't see it. "Speaking of breaks, what made you hit the gym today? You usually don't go that late."

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment—probably trying to figure out how you found out about his plans for tonight, before realizing that he just dropped the world's most unsubtle thirst trap in the history of thirst traps.

"Oh, you know. Just to clear my head and stuff," he says, before quietly adding, "That, and Mingyu told me the fans were starting to miss me on Instagram."

You can't help the huff that escapes you. So Kim Mingyu is the mastermind behind this after all.

"What?" Seungcheol laughs airily. "Don't tell me the photos I picked were ugly."

"It's the exact opposite actually," you say before clearing out your desk so you can settle yourself on your own bed. "You did too well and now I'm going to have to fight the thirty-thousand people in the comments asking if you can suffocate them with your arms to establish dominance."

Another laugh—this time, a low rumble in his chest. "Oh? Did you like the pics I took that much, princess?"

Now that you're under the covers, you feel more comfortable—more inclined to be honest about the inappropriate reactions you had to those stupid fucking mirror selfies.

"Mhmm," you whisper. "Your fingers looked really nice in them, Cheol..."

The sound of him groaning at the other end of the line shoots straight through your core, making you clench your thighs together. These damn work schedules. If the two of you weren't so busy, he might already have those thick digits buried inside you by now.

"Yeah?" He questions huskily. "You've been thinking about my fingers, baby? Where do you want them?"

You take your lower lip between your teeth, inching your legs apart as your free hand starts to glide between your thighs. The gusset of your underwear is starting to get soaked by the minute, but you feel no semblance of shame for it.

"Inside my pussy," you gasp a little when you press down your clit through the fabric of your panties. "Love it when you finger me while we make out, Cheol. Always so hot..."

"Fuck," he sighs, and you hear more rustling in the background. "Put me on speaker phone, princess. I can't go to you right now, but I can still help get you off. That sound good to you?"

You whimper before removing your panties altogether spreading your slick along your glistening seam. "Yes, please."

As the two of you get comfortable, you hang onto the sound of Seungcheol's voice like a lifeline. There's just something so unbearably arousing when he's talking to you with his sex voice. Though it doesn't sound that different from when he's performing Hip-hop Unit songs, you know the desire laced in his words is reserved for you, and you alone.

Those people in his comments can only dream of getting what Seungcheol spoils you with on the regular.

"You all good, baby? Can you hear me well?"

You swallow thickly. "Uh-huh."

"Good. Now, I want you to tease yourself just a little. Make yourself wet enough first," your boyfriend commands, and you can practically picture him licking his lips.

In return, you let out a soft whine. "You already made me wet because of those pictures..."

"I did, didn't I?" He laughs, that evil, evil man. "But you're not wet enough, princess. I want to hear your cunt squelching around those tiny fingers through the phone when you fuck yourself. You can do that for me, right?"

You let out a shuddering breath when you gather some more of the slick trickling out of your hole—using that to rub your clit in tight circles. If you listen hard enough, you can hear a rather...suggestive noise on Seungcheol's end. Thinking about him pumping his thick cock in his fist sends another rush of arousal through you.

"'M playing with myself, Cheolie," you whimper. "Are you, too?"

He lets out a sigh so sexy, it makes you yearn for his presence even more. "You bet I am. Hearing you admit that you got all worked up because of those pictures made me so fucking hard, princess. Been so long since I last had these fingers shoved up your needy cunt."

"C-Can I put them in now?" You practically beg. "P-Please, Cheol. I need—"

"Go ahead, baby. Slide in two fingers for me. I know you can take 'em."

The soft moan that tumbles out of your lips is pornographic even in its subtlety—burying two digits to the hilt as you continue rubbing your clit with your other hand.

It isn't enough. Your own fingers can only reach half of what Seungcheol can, but you're going to have to make do.

"Shit. That's what I'm talking about," Seungcheol groans when he picks up on that telltale squelch he's been yearning to hear again. "Your pussy's always such a mess, isn't it? Doesn't matter if you don't have a cock to split you in half right now. You'll get wet from just about anything."

"That's not—ah! That's not true," you mewl as you curl your fingers inside in an attempt of finding your g-spot. When the pads manage to graze a sensitive patch of flesh that has you writhing on the mattress, you know the effort isn't entirely fruitless. "I only get wet for you, Cheolie."

"And I only pop a boner when my needy princess starts to get worked up without me," he growls. "You like the pace you've set right now, baby? Now, imagine it's my cock hitting you over and over—making a mess of that perfect cunt while you squeeze me like a vice."

Your rhythm falters at the image he plants in your mind. Fuck. It's just now occurring to you how much you missed being spread open on his cock.

"Seungcheol," you whimper, hips starting to gyrate on the mattress. "I miss you so much, fuck."

He hisses through his teeth. "I miss you, too, princess. Can't wait to see you again."

"Can I use one of my toys?" You ask, half-hoping he'll relent even though you know his answer's still going to be:

"No," Seungcheol replies firmly. "You're gonna get off to your own fingers and the sound of my voice like a good girl. You understand? Now get on your knees and lie on your chest."

His instructions confuse you a little, but you still do as you're told, pruning fingers never straying too far from your slick heat as Seungcheol mutters the dirtiest things on the other line.

"You always come so hard when I fuck you from behind," he growls. "Try fingering yourself again, princess. You'll understand why."

You press your cheek against the cold sheets, easing three fingers into your sopping entrance before establishing a pace you're comfortable with. The moment you finally settle into the new position, you curl those digits again before your back practically arches into the mattress—ripping out a pretty little moan from your lips.

"You can reach a lot deeper now, can you?" Seungcheol laughs but you're still floored by the pleasurable sensation and the fact that he knows your body so well, he can tell you how to make yourself fall apart even if he isn't with you. "Keep doing just that, princess. You'll be coming on the sheets in no time."

"Fuck, Cheol," you breathe, thighs quivering as you continue to thrust your soaked fingers in and out of your pussy. "Wish you were here with me... Want you to blow my back out so fucking bad, shit—"

"I will, baby. I will," he promises, just as breathless as you are. "It's sad that I'll end up coming on my stomach instead of inside you, but it's the yearning that makes it all worth the wait, right?"

Fuck. He's so...

"I'm so close, baby," Seungcheol continues. "Play with your clit and come with me."

You don't need to think it through—tireless moans spilling from your lips as you obey your boyfriend's instructions. The lovely angle that Seungcheol just introduced to you coupled with how hypersensitive your puffy clit has become is sending your brain into a frenzy that you didn't think you were going to experience tonight.

"Your cunt sounds so goddamn tasty, princess. You're close, aren't you?" Seungcheol babbles, and the deep sound of his voice only serves to turn you on further. "That's it. That's my good girl. You'll take everything in that greedy pussy. Be it your fingers or mine, those little toys or my cock—you take them all so fucking well. Don't even get me started about whenever I dump my load inside your needy hole."

How are you supposed to last long when your boyfriend has gotten the art of dirty talk down to a T? You didn't even think it's possible for you to get off without any of your toys, but the sound of Seungcheol's voice whispering all that filth into your ear has the electric impulses of an orgasm skidding across every synapse in your fucked out brain.

Your boyfriend lets out a long-winded groan on his end, and you can picture those white hot streams of cum dribbling from his tip and onto his toned stomach. And you're not even there to see it.

"That's it, let go for me, princess," Seungcheol whispers hoarsely as you slowly sink down from your high. "I promise I'll stuff you full next time we see each other."

"Promise me you won't post any more thirst traps, and we'll call it quits," you interject, still feeling a bit blissed out, but coherent enough to carry on your initial sulking.

"Hm? Why's that?"

"Because news flash: I actually don't like sharing my hot as fuck boyfriend to his own fans," you growl. "If you're gonna take pictures like that, send them to me and nobody else!"

Seungcheol barks out an incredulous laugh. "Aww, my possessive princess doesn't want me to post gym pics anymore? I don't wanna let down the fans, baby."

"Oh? Which one do you want more, your fans' attention or this pussy?" you proposition him.

Your boyfriend groans. "Baby, if you rile me up again, I might end up sneaking one of our cars out just so I can pay you a visit."

"What's stopping you then?"

Seungcheol sighs like he doesn't know what to do with you.

"Alright. I'll be there in twenty."

⟢ end notes: i...don't know what came over me tbh i saw those pics of cheol and thought, i NEED to write something and voila! honestly thought i was a jeonghan n shua stan but i've been feeling so rabid for cheol these days that i might just be a 95z stan after all 🥹 i hope you guys like this horny brain child i finished writing at exactly 2:43 in the morning of dino's birthday LMFAO i definitely did NOT plan to write this, so let's thank ig user sound_of_coups for sponsoring today's content 🤭 edit: i wrote a lil sequel of sorts here! the chelrot just won't stop yk...

#svthub #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #svt smut #svt fanfic #choi seungcheol #scoups #seventeen scoups #seungcheol #seungcheol smut #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #lovelyhan #🐇 500 #🐇 1k #full length fic 📚

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sixosix · 7 months

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THAWED | LYNEY X FEM!READER SERIES

THAWED (MASTERLIST) — the lyney childhood-enemies-to-frenemies-to-lovers-kinda series that no one asked for, ft. fluff, a whole lot of bickering, flirting, and everything in between

STATUS. mostly updates on sundays!

OTHER INFO.

DISCLAIMER. will contain spoilers. this series will be as dark as genshin lore can be, and this won’t strictly follow genshin’s actual lore—i’ll be making up a lot of stuff for the sake of the fic so there will be inaccuracies, NOT CANON COMPLIANT!! the timeline of events will be vastly different. each chapter will have their own warnings as well, so keep an eye out for that!

NOTES. hello, everyone !!!!!!! welcome to my lyney series inspired by taylor’s reputation album. how it works is each chapter will be titled after each song off of the album as u can see below,,, hope u enjoy reading as excited i am for rep tv!! :D

tysm to naosaki and kruinka for helping me brainstorm w this fic (and also helping me when i was visibly all over the place because of this series)

CHAPTERS.

i — are you ready for it?

The House of the Hearth was perfect. This was where you thrived—where no one else could take this feeling away. But then Lynette became a part of the ‘family’, and with it, she dragged along Lyney.

ii — i don’t wanna hurt you (i just wanna be)

You look more like a soldier than an orphan, Lyney thinks. It’s beautiful in all the wrong ways.

iii — you gotta leave before you get left

Desperately, Lyney melts them away, but your footsteps have already gone out of earshot. It’s an answer in itself: Don’t bother. Take the hint, Lyney; you already messed it up.

iv — for you i would fall from grace

“What now? What do you want me to do? Strut back into their lives and demand all their Fatui secrets as if I never left?”

Aether nestles into his seat. “Prove to me that I can trust them just as much as you do. Who knows, you might get something out of this, too.”

v — you must like me for me

Lyney laughs. It sounds like music that has haunted you for years—and with a new one playing, it’ll torment you for years more. He loosens his grip but keeps you caged in, still. You’re twirled around to face him, and something about his expression has you swallowing thickly.

“You’re even more stunning than I remember, ma chérie.”

vi — look what you made me do

You frown at him, your face upside down in his view. “That was unfair.”

“I have to be if I want to beat you.”

vii — all eyes on you, my magician

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, even once when his fingers reached out to fish out a champagne flute. Lyney still has that stupid smile on his face, the rim of his glass against his lips. You’re hit with the startling realization that you want to kiss him.

Fuck, what?

viii — you’ve ruined my life, by not being mine

“You’re so warm,” you murmur to his skin.

Goosebumps blossom all over his body. Your face brushes against the side of his neck. “Do you hate it?”

“I like it. My hands are cold. Every part of you is warm.”

ix — us traitors never win

Lyney knew that this would happen. He knew well enough to predict what ‘Father’ would make them do, but still—

“We understand,” Lynette says, her eyes darting down to Lyney’s clenched fists.

The Knave stares at Lyney, and the strength of her stare has Lyney lowering his eyes to the floor. “Do you?” she asks. They wisely stay silent: Lynette’s hesitance and Lyney’s frustration. “Then I trust this won’t happen any longer.”

x — king of my heart, body and soul

You bit back the bite of ice and wondered how ironic it was that every time your Vision acted out, it was, more often than not, tied to Lyney.

“What, so you expect me to believe you’d just go against your ‘Father’ like that?”

xi — baby can we dance, through an avalanche?

Lyney supposes he can’t hate Aether that much for that. And selfishly, Lyney supposes he can’t truly hate Aether because he brought you back to him. In a vague sense of camaraderie, Lyney understands.

xii — there is an indentation in the shape of you

And so you two stand face to face with your old home, the House of the Hearth. It still had the same grand doors you remember, the same living room, and the same fireplace, but the emptiness was unfamiliar. It was unsettling, like a bad dream.

This used to be your home.

xiii — he built a fire just to keep me warm

“I think it’s special. We’re twins, Lyney and I, but I think if I were in his body for even a day, I wouldn’t be able to recreate what you two have. He treasures you deeply, more than you know.”

more chapter previews soon...!

thawed related tags you might want to check out:

#thawed fanart <3

#thawed memes i want to hang in a museum

of course, if you want to check out akagi's series of mind boggling fanart:

#akagi0021 carrying the entirety of thawed

FANART COMPILATION

our favorite akagi0021 has been blessing me with THAWED fanart (!!!) and i decided that i need to compile all of them for me and to make YOU see the art as well... BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD (with permission of course)

CH 1 | reader's new outfit reveal

CH 2 | lyney doesn’t know how he looks at reader

lyney and MC height difference before/after IM ON MY KNEES theyre so cute

CH 4 | aether and paimon confronting reader

bonus fanart of lyney and reader after training :(( so cute

CH 5 | lyney seeing reader!!!!!! aahhh his eyes

lyney as a kid and then lyney now (grown up) THIS ONE IS INSANE. little lyney is so adorable but then look at the lyney now

CH 6 | LOOK AT THIS ONE!! scene of lyney saying “she’s hiding something” except akagi made him unnecessarily sexy wtf

CH 7 | drunk reader driving lyney crazy... (i went crazy)

CH 8 | "lyney's not my boyfriend" ; the ending scene with childe, aether, and reader!! they all look so good T__T

CH 10 | lyney's "i would. i would for you" OUGH YESS

++ ADDITIONAL!!!

and look at this so so so adorable collection of doodles of chapter six by sunny @emanami !!! her artstyle is to live for its SO cute (look at the siblings!!!)

more of sunny's cute drawings: thawed!mc biting lyney's cheek like what i want to do

look at @lacrimae-lotos's version of mc!!!! SO CUTE look at her piercings and her eyes aahhhh

akagi's art dump from different chapters | theyre all so cutue im sobbing i love akagis mc and lyney so much T__T (LYNEY BRAIDING MC'S HAIR)

lyney doing the stretch tactic ohh he is so slick modern au with akagi's thawed!mc and lyney at the beach i fainted

++ LOOK AT AKAGI'S VERSION OF MC! shes so lovely

design headcanons (theyre all so precious)

akagi's reader as a genshin char !!

reader's outfit for chapter seven SO PRETTY

thawed!mc's eyepatch lore... aether is so silly

akagi's au where mc never left the house and they're enemies to lovers yes yes yes yesyse

HOW TO JOIN THE TAGLIST.

just ask through my inbox!!! and make sure that people can tag you pls!!

#606: THAWED #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #x reader #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #genshin impact series

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pedgito · 6 months

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𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Chivalry, Secrets & Hot Tubs (Week One)

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

quick note: i love all the reblogs/feedback and that you're all enjoying this as much as i am <3 and a huge thank you to @swiftispunk for being the best and looking over the first chapter for me, i am completely scatter-brained and forgot to mention this when i posted last monday, so tysm han and pls go check her out if you haven't! & follow my fic update blog (@pedgitos) and turn on post notifications so you don't miss any updates/posted fics!

Chapter Summary: Settling in is easier than you expect, but it does come with a fair share of challenges. A week filled with getting to know one another and some moments shared, your week doesn't end on the best note, leaving you with a choice.

Chapter Warnings: (8k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, domestic shenanigans, Joel being naturally assertive, cooking dinner together, reading is good at encouraging Joel, one hot tub & two stubborn individuals, also...one bed trope incoming

You wake up refreshed, like you’ve been born with a new reverence for life—alright, it might be a bit of an overstatement but it’s a wonder what a decent night of sleep could do and you’re feeling that this idea, playing house with a stranger—though it wasn’t much like that anymore—wasn’t the worst choice. And it reminds you of Joel, having left him in the chair last night, not wanting to burden him but you can only imagine the ache in his bones, his back, the discomfort of sleeping in a chair all night.

You lay for a moment, bleary eyes adjusting to the early morning light. The morning sunshine wasn’t strong here, blanketed out by a stark white snow that covered the ground, it muted out most colors and left a cool, but bright blue that shined through the window above your bed.

It was peaceful. No cars, no buzz of strong electricity outside your window, people and their idle conversation a few floors down from your apartment window. Not even a bird, really. But, there’s a distinct clearing of a throat from the living room that has you stirring in bed, rising lazily as you move with the same enthusiasm.

It was a fresh week. The first official week of your vacation and you were going to start it off on a good note, clambering out of the bed and slipping on a pair of fluffy slippers to keep your toes from freezing off, not bothering to glance in a mirror on the way out—not that you needed to, it didn’t matter. It was early, you were still trying to shed the sleep from your body and you could care less. Plus, it wasn’t like an old t-shirt and sleep shorts was some foreign concept.

When you peek around the corner, arms crossed tightly over your chest, you can spot Joel’s head tilting to one side, hand kneading at the taut muscle in the center of his back where his neck starts to begin and then you’re stuck watching as he stretches his arms out wide, working out all of those muscles. Every single one. And you’ve been silent for far too long.

Yeah.

Clearing your throat softly, you approach from behind and keep your distance, announcing your presence like you hadn’t been lingering for a minute or two already.

“Morning,” You greet politely, resting your weight against the edge of the island, taking in full view of a freshly awoken Joel, eyes still puffy from sleep.

He looks very…gentle. Surprisingly, so. It softens his rigid demeanor significantly and you have to silently talk yourself out of glaring at him for too long, “I didn’t want to wake you—I’m so sorry.”

Jeez—you two are getting good at that. Apologizing, afraid to step on each other’s toes.

“Not your fault,” Joel massages his bicep with the heavy pressure of his thumb, looking slightly pained as he rolls his shoulders, “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Yeah, but I forced you to stay up, so—”

“You didn’t,” Joel quickly shuts you down, “I’m a grown man,” there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there, but Joel continues, “don’t blame yourself for my own irresponsibility.”

It’s too early for this. You force on a fake smile, void of any real emotion at this hour, running on fumes and the smell of coffee. Speaking of—you sniff, eyes searching for the smell like a dog would track a scent, and Joel is already pointing in the direction you should be looking for when your eyes land on him.

“I already finished it off on my own,” Joel admits, pointedly taking another long sip before resting the mug back on the counter, “I can get another pot goin’ if you need it.”

There’s an inclination to let him, seeing him assert himself so easily and offer, but you shake your head, “I think I can handle a coffee maker,” You assure him, meandering around the kitchen in search of the coffee grounds, ignoring Joel’s tracking of your movements, waiting for a moment to interject and point you in the right direction. You spot them a moment before the urge comes with a soft aha!

“I needed to make a drive into town,” Joel tells you after you’ve gone through the steps of starting your own batch of coffee, “pick up some more food, figured you might wanna tag along.”

He’s not asking, only assuming. But to be fair, his assumption is right.

“Sure,” You reply cooly, pouring yourself a hefty cup of coffee to sip on, letting your body take hold of the caffeine, “...how far away is the closest town?”

“Hour and a half.” Joel answers and you almost have the nerve to go wide-eyed on him, but then you remember just how deep into the woods you both were and that it was necessary.

Truthfully, there was a more concerning matter at hand.

“How’s your music taste?”

Joel has the gall to look offended by the question.

“I’m leavin’ in thirty,” Joel ignores you, “don’t think I won’t hesitate to leave you here.”

Okay, noted: Joel wasn’t much the morning person you assumed he was.

Joel immediately realizes how little disregard you have for touching things that aren’t yours when you reach for the makeshift box of cassettes tapes placed in the backseat of his truck—the thing was old, riding on it’s last leg, but it was something Joel would cherish until it was unsalvageable, torn seats, dents, and all.

“Ain’t gonna find anything you like in there,” Joel assures you, “None of that pop stuff they’re always playin’ on the radio these days.”

The tables turn on him suddenly, seeing your face contort into a similar emotion that he gave you earlier. Bewilderment, shock, annoyance. You scoff at the comment.

“Says you,” You retort back, sifting through the different cassettes until you find Joel trading glances between you and the road in front of him, almost worried you might chuck his collection out of the passenger side window, “Joel, eyes on the road.”

Joel enjoys a lot of country, which isn’t a total disbelief. But, it wasn’t something you shared the sentiment on, flicking away a handful of country artists you’ve never listened to and reaching some of the good stuff—older rock music, some classic 80s, and late 90s.

You pluck one out carefully, prying open the cassette case with gentle hands before sliding the tape in, allowing the low hum of the music to fill the car. There’s a brief moment of respite before Joel smirks to himself, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.

“What were you saying?” You look at him pointedly, shifting slightly in your seat.

Joel looks away briefly, biting back a chuckle, “Fine—I’ll give you some credit. Foo Fighters aren’t terrible, but you skipped right over Bruce Springsteen, so…”

You scoff in disbelief, “You don’t get to criticize me with that atrocious collection of country music,” You stare down at the box in thought, eyes brimming with a mischievous that Joel knows of immediately, he’s seen it before. Not with you, but he knows, “you know, maybe I should just do you a favor and—”

You can barely get a hand on the window roller before Joel’s hand is gripped tight over the box, trapping your other hand in his grip as he warns, “I’m not above leavin’ you stranded in the cold.”

Your grin is nothing but evil and Joel finds that there’s something about you that infuriates him in a way that is hard to describe, not in anger or rage, but a level that he thinks he could match. A game of back and forth that he could play into—but you’re quickly relenting regardless of the threat and placing the box on the floorboard.

“Already tried that,” You retort, “didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Fair is fair. Joel doesn’t poke the beast.

Instead, he takes the chance to ask a question.

“So, what exactly was your plan?” Joel asks curiously. “You comin’ out here with no car and all?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “Didn’t really have one, but I would have figured it out.”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, subtly resembling a face of disapproval.

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me, okay?” You don’t wait for a response, “You can have whatever assumptions you want about me, but don’t try and act like you know anything about me.”

It was another reminder. Joel didn’t know you, but you didn’t know him either. You reign your frustration in slightly, quick to defend yourself but aware that not everyone handles confrontation in the same way—if Joel was quick to anger, you didn’t want to stoke the fire.

“I’m not,” Joel argues, his voice calmer than you expect, thinking back to the saddled rage his voice held the night you arrived, the threat that lingered with every word, “I’m not, alright?”

“Then stop that.” You comment, waving your hand in a vague motion toward his face, “Stop looking at me like—”

“Like what?” Joel interjects, eyes more pensive as he looks over at you.

“Like—like I need a fucking lecture on life or my choices,” You tell him, a hint of pleading in your voice, “I’m not some kid who doesn’t understand how life works.”

“You’re not a kid—”

“Good, great that we established that,” You lean back in the seat more comfortably, arms crossed over your chest as you keep your eyes on the snow covered road, “now shut up so I can enjoy the music.”

Thankfully, Joel does just that.

Conversation falls flat until you arrive at the store in town a while later, Joel fetching a cart and pushing it your way before he stops you suddenly, hand over your own again—a touch that normally you would flinch away from, but he’s already done it once before and the thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

“I’ll catch up,” Joel tells you, “I forgot somethin’ in the car.”

You glance back briefly, knowing that the walk isn’t that far.

“Oh, I can wait. It’s fine.”

Joel doesn’t say so much, but the look in his eyes goes a long way. A silent plea for you to go with it and don’t ask questions—again, you didn’t have any right to. You nod quickly and wander off toward the store as Joel trails away.

It’s then when your phone starts to vibrate away in your pocket, the sudden availability of service sending a barrage of notifications your way—you’re terrified to take a glimpse, but you do anyway. It should be no surprise to bear witness to the many, many texts from your mother wondering where you’d run off to, but there’s a tinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

You send her a quick, dismissive text to explain that you were fine and enjoying your time, but no elaboration on the things she wanted to know, because really, there was nothing to tell. And if you did decide to expel the details of your trip, mentioning that there was no boyfriend and it was just a stranger you met in the middle of the woods, well…that wouldn’t go over smoothly.

You also find a quick, heated moment of frustration to send an unpleasant text to the owners of the cabin, still polite enough that it wouldn’t warrant your ability to work things out—and you decide that calling would reach them faster, that somehow they’d magically find a way to appear and fix things, but there’s no answer. Only a voicemail that gave vague details about being away on their own vacation.

Just your luck.

Great. You sigh deeply, shoving the phone away into your pocket and returning to the land of obliviousness as you step inside the small market.

You fend for yourself for a while, throwing several random necessities in the cart as you go, enough sustenance to spread over four weeks and manage meals the entire trip, also a few more bottles of alcohol don’t hurt, looking for a few hard liquors that catch your eye and adding them to the growing supply of items.

You’re lost in concentration of the ingredients on the back of a box dinner when Joel’s voice startles you back to the real world, eyes jumping up to look at him and he spots the panic immediately.

He nods slightly when you recognize him, “Sorry, keep forgettin’ how jumpy you are.”

“You’re just ridiculously fucking quiet,” You tell him, breathing out a long sigh as you toss the box into the cart, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Joel assures, doesn’t elaborate. Okay, cool. You weren’t going to pry, no matter how much your instincts told you to. He scans the cart casually, “Mind tradin’ off?”

You lend him the lead and follow, watching as he pointedly finds things, like he’s reading off a list in his head and moves around the store with a purpose. It’s only slightly annoying that you have to keep pace with him, but he’s suddenly speaking out to you as he’s glancing over something on the bottom shelf, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No,” You responded, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why?”

“Grab some of that fresh rosemary,” Joel says, pointing out somewhere behind you and you whip around, eyes searching furiously and coming up empty, “—find it?”

You’re a little dumbfounded as you search the shelf of fresh herbs, Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching behind you as he reaches over your shoulder and plucks the exact thing he’s looking for with ease, “Hey, I had the right idea.” You defend, noticing how amused he looked at your befuddlement, “And you didn’t answer my question, either.”

“Well,” He tosses the small, plastic package in the cart, still tucked up at your side and you can feel his body heat, the solid wall of his chest against your shoulder, “don’t like the idea of accidentally killin’ you if I cook something you’re allergic to.”

“Well, what if I’m lying?” You challenge and Joel shoves you aside gently to grab the cart, hands on your shoulder as he shifts you away—and when had things gotten so…touchy?

Truthfully, Joel finds it easier than telling you, noting how quickly you quiet down when he asserts himself and does rather than asks. He knows if it made you uncomfortable you wouldn’t have had a problem speaking up immediately.

“Look at me,” And there’s a deep timbre to his voice that has your chest sparking like a fire, eyes connecting with Joel’s for longer than you’ve ever allowed and it’s like he sees right through you, but he’s searching for something, “—you’re not lyin’.”

“But, if I was?”

Joel nearly leaves you in the dust, but turns to look at you with a subtle grin.

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

–

The ride back is easier, much easier—and Joel doesn’t fault you when you fall asleep halfway through, the heat of the car and the low hum of the music like a perfect mix as you curl in on yourself. Joel wakes you with a gentle hand on your shoulder when you finally make it back, allowing you a moment to shake the grogginess away with a word over his shoulder as he opens his door.

“Careful over that patch of ice on your side,” Joel instructs, “gettin’ colder so it’s slicker than it was a couple days ago.”

Careful. You roll your eyes carelessly, nudging the door open with your shoulder and hopping out, boots hitting the hard ground—your first mistake was underestimating the slickness and Joel’s warning, because the moment you take your first step it’s all downhill. Literally.

Luckily though, like a moment of divine faith as you pray that you don’t hit the ground, Joel is right at your back, arms slipping under your own as he plants his feet firmly and catches you. One arm crossing somewhere over your midsection and the other wrapping around your shoulder, a large palm holding you steady as he helps you back to your feet. You can feel him on the brink of making a comment, eyes looking down tenderly into your own—

“Don’t ask.” You warn him bitterly, face scrunched up like a kicked puppy, shrugging him off lazily. Joel doesn’t argue, making sure you’re steady before he allows you himself to fully let go.

Joel shakes his head subtly, a nuisance of his, and rounds the back of the truck to reach for the bagged groceries, “Fine, I’ll just say I told you so then. How’s that?”

Worse.

Joel never asks for help, doesn’t even seem bothered when you stand there aimlessly, watching him stow away the groceries like he already had a game plan and you feel slightly useless, but it does give you a good opportunity to watch without any explicit reason or excuse.

There’s an obvious purpose to Joel’s movement, clear that he’s used to doing a lot of heavy lifting and keeping up, probably prefers organization over clutter, and has a certain inclination to do things himself, always. And you can’t help the way your gaze clings to his face, noticing something a little off—not good or bad, just slightly different. You hadn’t noticed it this morning, but with the extended amount of time your eyes lingered on him, you realize he’s cleaned up a bit, shaved his beard down to near stubble, a subtle difference…but you notice.

You’re not sure how long you’re stuck in this state, arms resting against the counter as you stood there, practically useless, thinking about what Joel looks like on a regular basis, when he isn’t cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter. You want to see that side of him, crave it. It’s an insane thought that doesn’t make sense, eyes widening suddenly at the realization of the thought you’re having—

“You still with me?” Joel’s voice calls out in the haze, muffled slightly as you come back into focus, eyes landing on him. “Think I lost you there for a minute.”

“Oh—no. I mean, yeah. I’m still a little tired, I guess.” It’s a bold face lie, but Joel seems to believe you. “Why?”

“I was sayin’ I need to go chop up some wood for the fireplace,” He explains again, “then you went all wide eyed…”

“Oh, okay,” You nod jerkily, “...do you need help?”

Joel immediately declines. No surprise there.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel suggests, “I can manage just fine on my own.”

Sleep sounds great, but it doesn’t happen.

You try—you do, but the splitting of wood, the strong crack of the axe catching the wood outside of your bedroom window, it isn’t exactly soothing to the ears. So, you find yourself wandering into the kitchen, peeking between the curtains with a wild curiosity that reminds you of when you were younger and trying to catch a peek of the cute boy next door, a bashfulness replaced with a deep, insatiable hunger that you didn’t know existed until this moment.

Joel was attractive, you could easily admit that. But, seeing him now, it’s a done deal. There was a deep pit of despair in your mind and you were stuck at the bottom with no way out.

It’s almost abysmal how easy he makes it look, the axe he’d brandish as his weapon of choice against you swung over his shoulders, the unfortunate lack of skin stretching over taut muscles as he went through the motions, covered up by thick layers. But, you get the idea.

There’s a slight pout forming on your face before you catch yourself.

He slices full power through the wood like it was eager to give way to him. You also find that his face tugs up in a scowl after every swing of the axe, a soft sigh of exerted energy as he tosses the logs to the side and starts up again. You could watch for hours. But, you settle for the few more minutes he spends collecting the wood before you’re scrambling back into your bedroom like you had been there the entire time.

Unfortunately, Joel isn’t oblivious. Still, he spares you the embarrassment.

There was no reason for him to entertain whatever he thought might be going on. He couldn’t.

The next few days are uneventful, though that was to be expected. It allows you time to really settle in, usually curled up on the couch watching the fire crackle away until you thought your eyes might melt away, or reading a book that Joel always seemed to be trying to catch a peek at. There was an innocent curiosity there that you could appreciate.

You also learned that Joel only took his coffee one way, offering up your services to refill his cup while you refilled your own, sugar lingering over the rim and he’s quickly pushing away the small container of crystalized goodness.

“Joel, come on–” You grimace but relent, placing the cylinder of sugar on the counter.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” Is all he offers, almost challenging you to take a sip.

You accept, obviously. But, it isn’t without consequence.

The moment the bitterness hits your tongue you’re scrambling away, forcing the mug into Joel’s waiting hands and spitting out whatever putrid liquid remained in your mouth in the sink.

It’s the first time Joel actually laughs, a full on chuckle that isn’t very receptive on your end.

Joel apologizes with dinner that night, a gesture that wasn’t expected or needed, still you’re thankful nonetheless. But, it offers you the realization of just how good a cook Joel can be.

Steaks grilled to a perfection that only came with repetitive practice and learned techniques, vegetables sautéed and seasoned to an enjoyable level, and a side of pasta that if Joel told you he made from scratch, you would’ve believed wholeheartedly if you hadn’t seen him dump the entire box of pre-made pasta into a pot of boiling water.

You’re halfway through dinner, chewing thoughtfully on a bite when you finally break the long, but comfortable silence that had blanketed over you both.

“So, Joel,” There’s a tone to his name that catches his attention, eyes flicking up to meet yours mid-bite, “what do you do for work?”

At this point, your nosey tendencies take hold.

There’s a scrunch to Joel’s nose before he speaks, almost as if he considered feeding you a lie alongside the beautiful meal he’d made. He settles for a simple answer.

“Uh, carpentry.” Joel tells you after a long pause, “I—build stuff for people, businesses sometimes.”

That explains some of his sturdiness, his practiced strength that came from, probably, years of hard constructive work and building. It also explains why he’s also working away at his hands, rubbing out the stiff joints and knuckles.

“I know what carpentry is, Joel.” You deadpan, but there’s a playfulness lingering in your voice.

You assume he’s used to explaining himself often, which is why he forces it on you so easily.

“And you?” Joel asks suddenly, “College? You’re about that age, right?”

You snort softly at the tone he offers, slightly patronizing, but all in good fun.

“I’m taking a semester off,” You answer indifferently, remembering how disappointed your parents had been about the ordeal, but you were suffocating, “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Joel assures, “can’t fault you either. Never went to college so I don’t have an opinion on it.”

There’s no judgment on your end, but for the sake of conversation, you bite.

“Any reason?” You ask curiously, wondering if you'd receive the similar sentiment that it’s all just bullshit.

“Didn’t have the money,” Joel answers simply, “didn’t have the grades, either. I thought I could start my own business out of carpentry, but…”

But…you lean into the table slightly, hanging on his words.

“You need a lot of money for that,” Joel finishes, “and, I mean, I’m livin’ comfortable now, but that idea took a lot of money that I didn’t and still don’t have.”

“So, you waste it on month long vacations in the middle of the woods,” You surmise humorously, nodding in approval, “can’t say I blame you, either.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, chewing around a bite as he speaks, “Your turn.”

Right. An eye for eye. A question for a question. He's watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give a response to the same question you asked him.

“Oh—I work out of this bookstore in downtown Austin.” You admit, finishing up the last few bites of your food, scraping the plate nearly clean. “It pays the bills and then some. I like it.”

There’s no compliment needed for the food, all the evidence of it gone. But, you feel the need to appreciate it anyways.

“Thanks for this, Joel.” You speak again, softer this time.

“It’s no big deal, darlin’.” Joel assures you, holding up his hands in a feeble defense at the compliment, clearly something he doesn’t welcome easily. “Just food.”

“It’s been...months,” You tell him, “since I’ve had any type of home-cooked meal. Take the damn thank you, Joel.”

He smirks at that, seeing the threatening fork raise before you utter those final words.

“You’re welcome.”

And he means it.

–

You force Joel to stay seated while you clean, knowing it was the least you could do after he spent so much time preparing and cooking dinner. There’s a solid few minutes of arguing before you have to physically shove Joel back into his chair despite his protests, hands pressed into his shoulders as you threateningly speak down to him.

“If you move, I’m locking your ass out in the cold.”

Joel wouldn’t mind, but you’re silently hoping that he’ll just listen.

After all is done, tossing the damp washcloth to the side, you sigh with a newfound relaxation.

There’s only one thing that might top off this night, making it almost the first perfect day here.

“That’s it, I’m getting in the hot tub,” You decide, squeezing tenderly at the tense muscles of your neck, thankful that the owners had a small alcove connected to the cabin that allowed for you to enjoy the hot tub from the safety of the cold, “join me?”

You’re not sure what inclines you to ask so openly, but you don’t second guess it.

“While I appreciate the offer,” Joel starts, “I don’t think I brought the proper…attire.”

He’s still seated where you had him planted and it makes you laugh softly at the idea that he was taking it seriously, which—yeah, you did threaten the possibility of hypothermia on him.

“Fine,” You relent, rounding the corner of the island closest to him as you quickly call out over your shoulder, “but, there’s still a couple of chairs in there if you need the company.”

He didn’t need just anyone’s either and didn’t need, so much as wanted.

He wanted your company.

A while later, you’re already waist deep in the hot tub, figure hugging white bikini tied back securely, arms resting against the side furthest from the door as you press your chin against your forearms and staring out the wall of vast windows that line the room, allowing a view of the snow storm outside, coming down in a flurry that seemed to only be gaining in strength—and Joel, well, he’s still sitting in that stupid chair.

He’s allowed himself too much time in his own head, thinking over the events of the past few days. His call to Sarah was pleasant, a much needed moment of peace when he hears his daughter’s bright, hyper voice on the other end. When he doesn’t have her for the holidays, it’s hard. The calls are sparse, the communication is clipped, and it feels like he’s being forced away from her, knowing that she’s growing older every day. That he is growing older.

He’s allowed a lot of his life to slip away, when he wasn’t working to pay bills and put food on the table he was usually drinking, bar-hopping with Tommy at his old age to hide the pain he felt everyday, mentally and physically. There’s a problem brewing under his skin, using the company of his brother and alcohol to cope with loss he feels so viscerally everyday. The life he could’ve had.

He feels pitiful, miserable—only took this damn trip to get out of town by the suggestion of Tommy, away from all distractions, hoping for a refresh to clear his head. But instead, he met you.

He had no clue what the fuck to do anymore.

Joel’s never processed emotions well, feelings or anything thereof.

But, here he was, lusting after you.

He knows it’s the excitement, the taboo idea around sharing something special with a stranger. Someone who knows nothing about you, someone who doesn’t have the leverage to judge. Someone who doesn’t have to know about all the wrongs he’s committed and bad choices he’s made.

You’re not privy to the fucked up version of Joel that belongs in his hometown, cooped up in his childhood home that he inherited from his parents, filled with too many now painful memories that he’d made with Sarah when she was younger—when he still had her.

He can’t help the way his mind races every single second of the day, constantly worrying, always trying to busy himself with something, anything to keep that lingering cloud of anxiety away. But, when he thinks about you, even something so mundane as the way you squint to get a closer look at a paragraph of the book you’ve probably read a thousand times, his mind goes quiet.

Because, frankly, he’s fascinated by the idea of you. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t actually real. He’s halfway leaning toward the idea that he’s had a full mental break and this is all an illusion he’s cooked up in his head, but then he reminds himself that you are just as full a human as himself. There is a reason for this, even if there had to be some other force at play.

Maybe you needed this as badly as he did.

A fresh start, no judgment.

And that’s why he decides to follow you, the moment he catches a glimpse of you as you turn the corner to take the steps down into the room that connected to the kitchen, a full glimpse of skin and body that he’s tried to keep his mind off of, despite how openly you stare at him.

There has to be something there. He can’t have imagined all of this.

You feel his presence when the creak of wood gives him away, one hand shoved into his front pocket and his other arm helping him stay upright as he leaned against the doorframe. The steam billows and settles like a cloud over the bubbling hot tub but does nothing to hide how see-through your bathing top is and the slick slope of your breasts, his eyes trailing down toward the small bow that was sewn to the midpoint of your top and know he’s staring at your chest, very openly—Joel’s immediately regretting his choice.

Your eyes follow his but you dare not speak, afraid to startle him.

Now who was the jumpy one?

“Change your mind?” You ask curiously, shimming the expanse of the hot tub as you grab onto the opposite ledge, resuming your previous position, closer to Joel now. If you reached out you could touch the edge of his flannel and soak the trim, maybe even pull him closer, but you resist the urge. “It feels amazing. I’m serious.”

It wasn’t a ploy to get him in, but it wouldn’t hurt. He doesn’t respond, eyes staring at the soft wave of the water as it hits your side, his posture rigid.

Maybe you’d broken him.

“Joel,” You call out with a soft nudge to his thigh, as far as you could reach with your fingertips, cutting into his line of sight, offering a friendly smile, “just strip down to your underwear and get in.”

“I don’t think—”

Oh, for christ sake.

“You wouldn’t have come over here if you weren’t at least thinking about enjoying the benefits of the hot tub,” You argue, “so stop being grumpy and strip. I won’t even look.”

It shouldn’t sound as gritty as it does, a playful venom in your tone as you sink back slightly.

It makes Joel feel like he’s back in high school, flirting with who would eventually be his ex-wife and mother of his daughter, but there’s an assertiveness that intrigues Joel, your willingness to put yourself out there without fear. Take a leap, a jump, and hope that someone will catch you.

Joel caught you, he just needed someone to catch him.

You spot his fidgeting, the wheels and cogs in his mind turning and he just needs that shove.

Just enough.

You rise over the edge, palms pressed flat to bear your weight and squeeze your breasts together, belly button nearly level with the water as you’re close enough to see the fine details of his face, giving him a look that Joel couldn’t deny.

“Get. In.” You stress the words, making direct eye contact. “You can thank me later.”

Finally, he moves.

You sink back slightly into the pool and wade the water until you hit a corner, watching briefly as Joel works away at the buttons on his flannel, quiet air filling with an unspoken tension. You try to busy yourself with the view outside, something that didn’t require you to look in the vicinity of Joel for a second, knowing that the moment felt more intimate than it needed to. But, it doesn’t stop that sparse glances over your shoulder to check on him, now barefoot and pulling his shirt over his shoulders, the fabric pulling and obscuring your view of his face and his view of you, staring so starkly at him in that moment.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. The freckles that speckle his shoulders, nearly invisible from this distance because of his tanned shoulders and the unevenness of the tan as it continues down his arm, varying in shades of intensity, undoubtedly from hours of working in the sun. There’s also a smaller patch of hair on his chest that with his short cropped beard, seems to be trimmed down too. His strong build doesn’t throw you off, though—solid muscle that flexed across his stomach as he yanked his shirt a little harder to get it over his head fully, not built in a way that rippled down his abdomen, but showed a sturdiness to his figure that had your body humming to a tune that reached down to your core, thighs squeezing together under the water.

Joel passes the shirt off into a waiting arm chair, clothes slowly piling on the cushion alongside your towel and he pops the button on his jeans, still unaware of your…innocent observation. But, the moment the jeans stretch over his thighs you swallow a little too hard and you’re immediately averting your eyes when he looks up briefly.

Like you’d been caught.

Joel clears his throat like a warning, as if he hadn’t felt your eyes on him the entire time, and swings a leg over carefully, a view of the black briefs that molded to his skin perfectly and hugged his backside in a way that feels criminally illegal…and you’re staring again.

He hisses at the sudden change in temperate, but inch by inch he lowers and adjusts, eventually huffing out a low groan, eyes closed, when he finally settles on the seat inside of the tub.

Suddenly, this felt like a terrible idea.

“See?” You break the revered silence for him, “Worth it?”

“Almost forgot how you just bullied me in here.” He jokes—full on fuckin’ jokes before cracking an eye open to catch your reaction, a subtle look of disbelief on your face. “I’m kidding, darlin'.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the seat under the water and you smile, a half-hearted roll of your eyes thrown his way before you relax too, for a moment.

“This is so weird,” You speak softly, after a while, and Joel looks slightly puzzled as he opens his eyes fully now, perking up slightly as he adjusts himself, chest rising over the water slightly, his arms hanging over the ledge with his fingers gripping the ceramic—and you’re gaze is drifting again, mostly to his hands, but you mask it as you look away briefly, down the hall or out the window. Literally anywhere but Joel, “it’s just—not how I expected things to go.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Joel replies with an underlying amusement.

As the quiet settles, slowly drifting closer to one side, where you originally were when Joel came searching for you—voluntarily, he lingered and waited, waited for the push you gave him—Joel joined alongside you, burrowing himself in the closet corner nook and enjoying the view in silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel comments, “everything alright?”

Everything was fine and you couldn’t make complete sense out of it. The ability to be so inherently comfortable with someone you’ve only known for a little under a week, the attraction you felt despite your own rational thinking telling you otherwise, the urge to connect openly and without fear of judgment. It terrifies you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask quietly, “Like…a real question, not those superficial ones that we’ve thrown at each other.”

Joel doesn’t like the sound of it, but there’s also the inclination that he could feed you a total lie and you wouldn’t have any idea otherwise.

He nods, fist resting against his cheek as he turns to look at you and suddenly the pressure is on, your heart racing in your chest at his sudden, full attention.

“Earlier…you said you forgot somethin’ in the car,” Joel’s fist clenches unknowingly under the water, an instinct to bury his reaction, “I know it isn’t my business, but I was just curious what is was.”

Joel, against every fiber in his being that tells him to deflect, gives you a straight answer. It’s almost startling how easily it comes out, like he’s lifting a weight off his chest that he’s carried for years.

“I had to make a call,” Joel admits, “to uh—my daughter, she’s back home with her mom.”

Your brow pulls together in confusion, “Wait, are you married?”

Joel somehow amidst the heaviness of admitting his truth still laughs, quick to defend himself from your next question.

“Oh, not at all. Never, actually.” Joel responds, “We…I never married her mom, it was obvious pretty quickly we weren’t going to work well together.”

The answer is simpler than you expect, different too. Part of you wondered if he was pleading his own case to the owners and was just as unsuccessful as you, but this is much more vulnerable.

And despite your ability to lie, and his own, neither of you can force it.

You don’t pry further, feeling like it may push things too far. Too personal.

“Okay, your turn.”

“Do I scare you?” Joel asks suddenly, almost like he’s been anticipating the moment too.

You’re almost sure the expression you return makes you look insane, feeling the implication that he might, that he thinks—it’s so far left field that it throws you off.

“No—no,” You quickly reject any lingering doubt he has, “I mean…the first night, maybe. But, now…no.”

“Oh.” It’s all Joel can muster, unsure of why he was expecting a different answer. That you would say yes and whatever shroud of thought he had about this moment you were sharing was only out of fear, that you were just trying to be polite.

“Look, I get jumpy because you sneak up on me,” You answer, “and you have this…presence about you,” Okay, not the best wording, “not scary or anything, just…strong.” Big, like a wall. Like, if anyone were to ever approach you wrongly, Joel would attack without question. And maybe the fact that he would do that should scare you, but instead, it entices you.

Joel sits with the implication, burdened by his own mind.

You can see him lost in thought, speaking with a comforting surety, “Thank you…for telling me.”

The truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.

The next stretch of time, what feels like an hour, is spent in a comforting silence. You think Joel is nearly falling asleep but then he moves, make a comment about how the snow won’t let up and eventually you’re forcing yourself out of the hot tub, reaching over the side to snatch your towel and sending all of Joel’s clothes descending to the floor in the process and as if you had a death wish on Joel, your ass pops up at an angle that is physically impossible to look away from.

Joel is a gentleman, he swears. He was raised to respect and care and always put women first, but there’s a split second where he can’t pull his eyes away, feels like he’s just caught a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have, but then you’re turning your head over your shoulder and you definitely catch him—you could ruin the moment and say something or you could ignore it.

Fortunately, you save Joel some embarrassment, covering it with a sly smile as you apologize for dropping his clothes and take the final step out and wrap the towel around your body.

“Shit,” You quickly realize that in the midst of your pushing Joel to join you that he didn’t have a towel, “stay here—I’ll go grab you a towel.”

Joel wasn’t eager to move anyways, admittedly. Sporting half a hard-on under the water, he wouldn’t subject himself to the scrutiny of your gaze or what implications it would make, thinking every horrible possible thought to will it away—luckily your timing is perfect.

You quickly gather his dropped clothes and pile them in the chair as you toss the towel his way, ignoring any and all chances to glimpse at his wet body, back turned as you quickly excuse yourself away in fear of the idea that you might say something unforgettably stupid.

The walk to your separate bedroom is quick, swift, like a desperately needed escape.

But, as fate would have it, the moment you open the door and wretch the towel away from your body there’s a loud pop! to your left and a spark on the outside that has you halfway on the floor and slamming into the wall out of both shock and an attempt to shield yourself from whatever unseen force was at play, yelping out loud in the process.

From an outside perspective, you can understand why Joel doesn’t hesitate to come running.

He runs straight into your back, bare chest pressed against your know bare shoulders and leaving you half-dressed in front of him, scared out of your wits and willing to grab onto whatever was nearby to keep you upright—fortunately, Joel’s arm is the perfect anchor as your hand wraps around his wrist and squeezes.

“What the hell?” Joel inquires, slightly out of breath as he searches your face for any signs of injury, “What happened?”

You both look at the culprit—the heated window unit that was no longer expelling heat, and while the cabin was still heated, it didn’t reach the bedrooms well enough that you weren’t shivering without some type of additional help. You sigh in frustration, eyes turning up towards the ceiling as you feel no shame, too frustrated to care as you lean into Joel’s chest.

“Shit.” It’s all Joel offers as a solution, not that you were expecting one. But, still, it would be nice.

“Yeah, shit.” You echo, pushing away from him suddenly to gather your damp towel and a change of clothes, padding your bare feet toward the living room, but Joel is grabbing your wrist before you get too far from him.

“Hey, woah,” He starts in a calmer tone, “you can take my room—I’ll drive into town tomorrow and see if I can get ahold of the owners, we’ll figure something out.”

“I already tried calling them,” You admit, “Earlier. Straight to voicemail and something tells me they won’t be answering their phones until after the holidays.”

Pulling away again, you continue your way toward the living room and gather a few pillows and blankets, tossing them on the larger couch beside the fireplace. Joel doesn’t seem to entertain the idea, following on your heels as he gathers each item you throw in that direction and you finally reach a point of full, unrestrained frustration.

“Joel, cut the shit.”

“Take the room,” He offers as a counter, “I can sleep on the couch.”

With his back? Not a chance. But, he offers anyway.

“Fuck off,” You chuckle bitterly, “I’m not forcing you out of the bedroom.”

“Then it looks like we’re sharin’ the living room.”

You close your eyes, toss the blanket aside and breathe, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to not completely lose it on the man standing opposite of you.

Chivalry be damned, Joel wasn’t giving in.

Fine, two could play at that game.

“I’ll take the bed.” You quickly agree, but there’s a lingering ultimatum.

Joel waits, sees the thought brewing behind your pensive eyes.

“But, so will you.”

“Now—”

“No,” You interject, putting your figurative foot down, suddenly vividly reminded of your vulnerability as you stood there, still slightly damp and in a swimsuit that did nothing to cover your body—it was the reason Joel’s eyes were so pointedly stuck on your face, never lingering elsewhere, “either we both sleep in here on the couch or we share the bed.”

Joel’s hands shift to his hips, towel tight around his waist and you’re too annoyed to admire the way his muscles tense and flex with the movement, the underlying thickening desire settling beneath the surface.

You match his stance, daring him to challenge you.

A small part of you wants him too.

—

“Anyone ever told you you’re damn stubborn?” Joel asks, trailing behind you as you enter his bedroom, a clone of your own but with a small bathroom attached.

“All the time.” You answer truthfully. “I’m going to shower and sleep—no funny business.”

Meaning if Joel did sneak away into the living room to offer up the full amenities of his own room, he would feel your wrath tenfold.

Joel resigns to the idea and gathers his own pair of fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom down the hall, leaving you both to a moment of levity.

There’s no anticipation to the arrangement—but the idea is there, burrowing into the back of your mind.

You’re sleeping with a stranger…someone you knew little to nothing about, but it was your choice. And you trusted your gut.

Joel was safe, he was good.

You relax under the spray of hot water, a different heat to the one you enjoyed just a while ago, the type that allowed your thoughts to roam, and you laugh softly at the sight of Joel’s shower supplies, knowing he was stuck with whatever you brought—it wasn’t something you thought about in the moment, but there’s a brief realization that he was sharing a moment similar to your own, scowling at the sight of your fruity scented body wash that you left on the shelf there. It wasn’t a huge deal, Joel wouldn’t fuss over it.

But, it also lends your mind to roam more.

As if his bare chest wasn’t already at the forefront, and his eyes as they had stared at you so unabashed until the moment he was caught, all innocent looks with deeper intentions that invaded your mind like a plague.

You were so fucking frustrated—annoyed with him, the state of your life, this stupid vacation. With the suds gone and the water drowning out the silence you allow yourself one—just one moment of selfishness...

And as if the house was the biggest tattletale of them all, the floor creaks on the other side of the door.

“Joel?” You call out curiously, as if an intruder in the middle of nowhere was even likely.

There’s several seconds of silence before Joel finally answers.

“Yeah?”

“Your body wash sucks.” You goad lightly, hoping to ease the earlier frustration that had grown between you both, and while you can’t see him, you can hear his laughter on the other side of the door.

“Can’t say yours is any better.”

You smile to yourself, the way he responds with fondness that he tries to hide.

When you finish up and dress, peeking your head out before you move to open the door fully, Joel is already on his side, turned away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be bothered. The small blanket of division rolled and wedged in the center of the bed like a barrier, a warning.

Keep your distance and you both may manage to survive the rest of this vacation.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedrostories #MMITW #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x fem!reader #my writing #let's just pretend ellie isn't in that gif lmao

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aklaustaleteller · 1 month

Text

On One Condition

Klaus feels bad for messing up Y/n's exam preparation schedule, so he asks her what it is that he can do to 'earn her forgiveness'. Yet somehow, he manages to put up a condition when she asks him to help her with an art project...

Warnings - none, really. Word Count - 1.4k

So, I was rewriting an old fic when I decided to write a little backstory, i.e. this fic, and I hope you guys like it! I'll be posting part two within the next two days so yay!

Update: You can now read part two here!

She was something else, a feisty one who liked a good chase. And Klaus should've noted that from miles away. But he was too deep in now, and he wasn't going to back down until he had her.

He was waiting outside the school to catch Stefan, have a chat with him and warn him against trying to harm him because telling him off meant telling off the entire group, and Klaus found that lovely.

And he had just caught sight of Stefan when he saw her behind him, her hair bun not so tight as hair stands fell out and framed her face. She was walking with another girl who seemed to be trying profusely to convince Y/n of something -- probably a party if Klaus were to guess but he felt himself tuning in when she walked in a closer range to him.

"I really cannot do it, Vicki. Please try to understand that I'm myself giving exams right now," he heard her say, and then saw as she put her hand on her shoulders. There was softness in her voice that he'd never wished previously to be directed at him.

Bringing her in for a hug, Y/n explained herself again, as if she felt bad for denying whatever it was that Vicky wanted. "I would've helped you out had I not missed out on my preparation earlier. I’ve quite literally been studying the night before for each exam." She smiled, with what emotion Klaus couldn't quite see, but he found it beautiful, nonetheless.

"Why don't you ask Elena? I'm sure that way you'll bump into Jeremy a couple times as well," Y/n grinned, passing the squinting brunette a quick wink before turning back towards the exit with a sigh of relief.

Though it only took a couple steps for her to bump into Klaus, not so accidently. She'd seen him the moment she'd gotten out of the gates, and the fact that she had to pass him in order to reach her car only made her feel... more positive, let’s say.

She hadn't gone out of her way to slam into him, but he had. And the only other thing she has to blame is her spiteful walk that led the one library book she'd borrowed to topple out of her grip.

"Klaus, back off," she gritted, quickly picking up her book and moving once he did.

"It's not my fault, you know, that you bumped into me," Klaus said with a lure in his voice that suggested he just wanted to rile her up. "I'd apologize to me," he shrugged, a lopsided grin pulling up on his face when he noticed her turning.

"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but that'd be a cruel and unusual punishment," she bit back, pressing her key to unlock the car.

"Please, save your breath. You'd probably need it to blow up your next date," Klaus teased, remembering the night Klaus had crashed her date and scared off the guy by doing nothing, really.

Sighing, Y/n gripped the steering wheel of her car and closed her eyes for a second. "Say something else and this book will become a lethal weapon," her voice was agitated as she warned him, and when he truly backed away with a proud grin on his face, she finally pulled back and drove home, daring to spare him a glance in her rear-view mirrors, an angry blush creeping up her neck when she caught his eyes.

Once she reached home, she didn't bother to lay out her clothes before jumping into her shower. Still, she buttoned up a loose striped cotton shirt and pulled her underwear up her legs. It didn't take her long to just decide on a pair of pyjama shorts.

After a good bowl of salad for lunch, she brought out her schoolwork to just do it on the porch considering the nice weather. But of course, that was a mistake because soon into her immersive study session, she was disturbed by loud clashing noises coming from the house across hers, Elena's house.

Taking a deep breath, she was just getting up when she caught sight of Damon and Stefan inside the house, speeding towards each other. It was purely for the dramatics, she was sure, considering the fact they wouldn't kill each other, they simply didn't have it in them.

She just felt sorry for Elena's dishes, maybe some of her furniture as well.

Twisting the knob she had just pushed the door in to go back inside the house when she heard a voice behind her. "Too noisy, aren't they?"

Klaus.

"You already messed up my preparation schedule once, Klaus. Do not dare to do it again," she said calmly, though her grip on the knob was probably tighter than normal.

With that, she decided to cross the line and enter her home. Then she turned around to face him, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to mess with her either.

"I came here to apologise, and perhaps, make up for the troubles I've caused you," he admitted, looking at her with such sincere eyes that she could've given in right then.

"And how do you plan on doing that? Plus, if this is a joke, I still have that book with me."

"You tell me what it is that will earn me your forgiveness," he said dramatically, making her look down to hide something from him, maybe a smile.

Opening the door wider, she looked at him and then hesitated a little. "Don't make me regret this," she said. "Come in, please."

Klaus was caught a bit off guard but managed to get inside, his eyes wandering right away to take in her house.

"I'm not sure how to word this really, so I'm just going to say it." Taking a breath, she sat on one of the dining table chairs and urged for him to do so too, getting a little flustered when he took the one right by her side and shifted so that he was turned towards her.

"What is it, love?"

"This might be a little ridiculous for you but it's very serious for me," she told him while maintaining eye contact to make sure he understood the situation.

Klaus simply nodded for her to go on, now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"I know you paint, quite impressively, might I add but that's not the point here," she quickly shut the topic before Klaus could tease her.

"The point is, I have this art project that I said yes to under pressure because my favourite teacher asked me to. But were you to see even my handwriting, you'd know I'm no good at it. The most I can draw is a stick figure and even that's wonky sometimes," she admitted bashfully.

"I used to have a friend who'd do it for me, but she left town last year and now... I don't really have anyone who would," she let out a breath at that, her eyes closed in anticipation of his answer.

"So, you wish for me to help you out with this said art project?"

Sitting stiffly, she nodded.

"Okay then. I'll do it... but what is it?"

"Oh great!" She cheered; happiness evident on her face. "It's supposed to be this super zoomed in image of either a grapefruit, or a pomegranate."

Klaus leaned back in his chair then, sighing as he considered it. "I will do it on one condition," he proposed.

"And that is?"

"You will stay with me in my studio when I'm painting it," he shrugged, as if it wasn't so much a big deal.

"But were you not doing this for my forgiveness?" She narrowed her eyes, but when he began to get off the chair, she struggled for some answer to come out of her mouth before he could leave.

"Okay, okay! I will!" She agreed immediately, sitting back down in defeat when he remained standing, a smile on his face.

"I'll go now." He said, walking backwards towards the door and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. He could've teased her about it but decided against it.

"Come by my house tomorrow, around three or four… your wish," he said before turning to open the door.

He turned back to see her reaction and a smile crept up on his mouth when he saw her smiling back at him.

"I will," she told him while waving him goodbye, stopping just before he sped off with his dead heart beating a mile an hour.

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proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

Title: cruel summer | chapter 1

Pairing: Joel Miller/Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Join the tag list

Summary:

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Author’s note: I’m playing fast and loose with ages and timelines here. Joel is 38, reader is 23, and Sarah is 5. No mushroom apocalypse here, y’all.

Additional tags/warnings: explicit sexual content, age gap (15 years), reader is 23 and Joel is 38, he’s a lil guilty about it anyways, pet names, dirty talk, lack of aftercare, oral (f receiving), fingering, begging, angst, drying humping. Let me know if I’m missing anything!

You hear the heavy footsteps of your dad and the contractor coming up the steps to the front door. You turn from the stove, spatula in hand just as your dad comes into view with a man you’ve never seen before.

He’s tall and broad, shoulders stretching the worn flannel he’s wearing to what must be near its breaking point. He’s got a strong nose and sharp jaw highlighted by his tan skin. His hair is brown that’s streaked with gray, messy curls sticking up in all directions.

Woah, you think. Your eyes meet warm brown ones that make your knees feel a little unsteady.

Your dad gives the man your name followed by, “My daughter. She’s home for the summer while she studies for the MCAT. I hope that’s not a problem that she’ll be here?”

“Not a problem for me. Noise might bother you, though, if you’re tryin’ to study,” the man says, deep voice making your mouth go a little dry. He holds a hand out to you. “I’m Joel, by the way. I’m doin’ the remodel on your parent’s room.”

That’s right. Your dad had mentioned that your mom had finally broken him down and made him get a contractor out to update their master bath. They scheduled it while they’re away on a six week cruise, leaving you to house sit while you studied for your exam.

“It won’t bother me,” you reply, shaking his hand. They’re calloused and warm and just the brief contact is enough to have you wondering what they would feel like trailing over other parts of your body. “I’ve got noise canceling headphones.”

He smiles, but it’s short lived. He sniffs the air, brows pinching together. “Is something burning?”

“Shit! My eggs!” You turn back to the stove and shut the burner off, moving the pan off the heat and trying to scrape your now burnt scrambled eggs from the surface.

“Come on, Joel, let me show you upstairs.”

________

Joel returns to the house a few times that week to take measurements and talk materials with your mom. Each time you’re there in the kitchen, books spread around you at the dining table and your head bobbing to music he can’t hear.

He can’t help the way his eyes linger when he comes inside, stomping his work boots against the mat inside the doorway as a courtesy and, if he’s honest with himself, to get your attention. And every time you glance up and smile at him, bright and beautiful.

As soon as he’s back upstairs and remembers he has a job to do, he berates himself for the thoughts he has. He has no goddamn right to be looking at a client’s daughter, much less one as young as you.

His presence in the house is sparing over the first couple weeks of the job, mostly just dropping by for measurements and to get an idea of a plan for demo day. He’s got orders in on tile placed, fixtures picked out, paint purchased. Everything’s in place to get started next week.

Satisfied, he heads downstairs to leave. He both hopes you’re in the kitchen and prays you’re not, if only to ease his guilty conscience.

But there you are, bent over in front of the fridge in shorts that hug your ass a bit too well. You straighten up with a can of beer in your hand, popping the tab and taking a sip.

“You even old enough to drink that?” Joel can’t help but ask, lingering in the doorway.

“I bought it. Why, you wanna see my ID? You moonlight as a cop or somethin’?” You roll your eyes.

Brat, Joel thinks, rolling his lips together. He turns to leave, he’s made enough of a fool of himself for one day.

“I’m twenty-three, in case you were wondering!” You call out as the door shuts behind him.

Fuck.

________

Joel’s been upstairs since early this morning, smashing things with a sledge hammer, prying things with a crowbar, and all sorts of other destruction that filters through your headphones.

It’s almost noon when you decide to give up and give into the temptation to go see what the man is doing. You head upstairs, stepping carefully into your parents room. There’s plastic tarp leading from the door of the bedroom to the door of the bathroom that crinkles beneath your feet as you move further inside.

You peek beyond the doorway of the bathroom and clutch the frame almost painfully when you catch a glimpse of a rather sweaty Joel, white t-shirt sticking to his chest and back as he wiggles a crowbar between the wall and vanity, leveraging his body weight against it to get the fixture to detach from the wall.

He repeats the process a few more times until the vanity is completely removed. He tosses the crowbar to the side and wipes the back of his hand across his dusty forehead. You clear your throat, his eyes shooting to the mirror to meet yours.

“Hey, uh. Hi. I’m about to make something for lunch…did you want anything?” You ask. His chest moves rapidly with his labored breathing.

“Sure,” he finally says.

_______

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be sitting at the kitchen table, watching you move around the kitchen like a picture of domesticity as you make two ham and turkey sandwiches for lunch.

You set the plate in front of him, along with a cold can of Coke, before sitting across from him with your own matching meal. He takes a bite, humming in satisfaction.

“Thank you,” he says when he’s swallowed. You nod, picking up your own sandwich and digging in.

The two of you eat in silence for a few minutes. Joel lets his eyes wander over you while you’re focused on your food. You’ve got a University of Texas tank top on, white with an orange Longhorn stretched across your chest, and another pair of shorts, giving him an eyeful of your long, smooth legs.

Tearing his eyes from you, his gaze lands on the stack of books on the table. “So, the MCAT. Must mean you’re pretty smart.”

“Not to brag, but I did finish organic chemistry without crying,” you reply, lips tilted in a smug grin. “I’m taking it at the end of August, before senior year starts. Dad said I didn’t have to get a summer job if I moved home and saved him some rent money.”

“What kind of doctor are you lookin’ to become?”

“Pediatrician. I love kids.”

Joel’s heart rate kicks up as he thinks about you chasing a toddler around a manicured lawn surrounded by a white picket fence. Or in the kitchen with a baby on your hip.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“Joel?” You ask, breaking through his mental flagellation.

“Hm?”

“I asked if you have any kids,” you repeat.

He can feel his face go soft. “Yeah, Sarah. She just turned five. She starts kindergarten at the end of the summer.”

“How sweet,” you say. “I bet you and your wife are excited about that.”

“There’s, uh…there’s no wife,” Joel replies, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He stands, taking this empty plate to the dishwasher. “I better get back to work.”

Joel feels the weight of your stare on his back as he heads upstairs.

________

It goes on like that for two weeks. Joel gets to the house early and you study at the kitchen table until lunch time, when you ask him if he wants anything to eat. He should say no. It’s not your job to feed him, he’s got a stash of granola bars that’ll do just fine.

But each time he sees your hopeful doe eyed expression, his resolve crumbles to dust.

So he sits at the table each day, eating the sandwich you made him and drinking the Coke you gave him, learning tidbits of information about you.

Like how you weren’t sure about pursuing medicine at first, so you’re a bit behind schedule in taking your studies and will be graduating late. You changed your degree path when you volunteered in the pediatric oncology service at the medical school, sitting with young kids undergoing chemotherapy and making their days brighter. Your last roommate had a cat that always hid your keys, but you still liked him anyways. How your favorite color is yellow.

He tells you about Sarah. About how her mom left not long after she was born and how he’s gone at this parenting thing alone, save for the support of his brother, Tommy. He tells you about how only finished a semester in community college before dropping out to pursue construction. His favorite drink is whiskey, neat, and his favorite color is red.

One day, you’re not at the table when he lets himself into the house with the key your dad made for him. He finds he’s disappointed, not starting his day with your smile.

Upstairs, he’s working on laying the mud for the shower pan when he hears a splash from outside. He peeks out the window of the bedroom that overlooks the backyard.

His mouth goes dry and his pants get uncomfortably tight as he watches you lift yourself from the pool. You’ve got on the skimpiest red bikini he’s ever seen, the top barely containing your tits and doing nothing to hide the hard peaks of your nipples. You wring your hair out over your shoulder before moving to lay down on a nearby lounger. Your body glistens with drops of water that Joel wants to chase with his tongue.

You turn over on your stomach and Joel bites back a groan, greedily committing the view of your ass to memory. Jesus Christ, he’s never felt like a dirty old man more than in this moment.

He returns to his task and tries to chase his lustful thoughts away with manual labor.

_______

You can see him watching you from the window. Your sunglasses keep your own gaze hidden as you revel in the undivided attention of the man you’d been drooling over the last few weeks. You’d put on your tiniest bikini for the occasion, laying yourself out on the lounge like a meal you’d like him to dig into.

He stood there for a few minutes and you could practically hear his teeth cracking from how tense his jaw was. You could tell Joel really struggled with his attraction to you. He’s staring down the barrel of a fifteen year age gap, after all.

You didn’t see an issue with it. You’re an adult, he’s not abusing any sort of position of power, hell, all the man has done is check you out. He hasn’t even touched you. You don’t want him to feel guilty about being attracted to you because god knows you don’t feel guilty for wanting to climb him like a tree.

You don’t bother with a towel or changing when you go upstairs to tell Joel lunch is ready. When he sees you in the doorway he freezes, and you bite back at a laugh at the look of surprise on his face.

“Lunch is ready,” you tell him.

He clears his throat. “I uh…I think I’ll just eat a protein bar. Thank you, though.”

Your bottom lip pops out in a pout. “But I made pasta salad.”

“I got a lot to do,” he tries again. His jaw keeps clenching, his hand wrapping tightly around the tool he’s holding like he’s hoping it’ll anchor him in place.

“Please, Joel?”

That gets him. He sighs, standing with a groan.

“Fine.”

________

This was a bad idea. He should have held strong and insisted he’d eat by himself today.

You’re still in that goddamn bikini and he is fighting for his life sitting at the table as he watches you plate up pasta salad. Usually you would drink a Coke with lunch but today he’s surprised to see you pouring a glass of wine.

“It’s my day off from studying,” you say as you take your seat across from him, sipping from the glass. “I think I deserve a little treat. Don’t you?”

He has to be imagining the double meaning of your words. He gives you a tight nod in response before focusing all his energy in eating his pasta and avoiding your gaze.

“You okay, Joel?” you ask. Your sweet face is pinched in concern and goddamnit, Joel can’t take this.

“Fine,” he grunts. You give him another pout, the same one that broke his resolve upstairs.

You finish before him, sticking your bowl in the sink before picking up your wine glass from the table and refilling it. Instead of taking a seat, you lean your barely clothed hip against the table in front of him.

“You seem tense,” you comment. Joel swallows roughly, throat dry. You set your glass down and take a step closer.

“What are you doin’?” He asks, voice rough and low. He can barely breathe. This can’t possibly be happening.

You plant your hands on his shoulders for balance as you slide onto his lap, legs on either side of his waist and pussy dragging across his hard cock. He hisses, hands grabbing onto your waist before he can stop himself.

“Darlin’, you can’t be doin’ this,” he says, voice strained. “We can’t be doin’ this.”

“Why not? I see the way you look at me. I’ve been lookin’ the same way.”

“You’re young, baby. Too young for an old man like me.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pressing your chest to his and fuck, he can feel your tight little nipples as your tits press against him. “‘M not too young,” you murmur, dipping your head to mouth at his neck. His fingers flex against your ribs. “You’re not doin’ anything wrong, Joel.”

His head drops back as you keep pressing sweet little kisses to the stubbled skin. His hips flex beneath you and you gasp, arms tightening around him.

Joel is so fucked. So, so fucked. Has been from the moment he stepped into this goddamn house and saw you sitting at this very table.

Maybe…maybe just one time. One time should be enough, get it out of your systems, cut through the tension and move on.

You’re whimpering against his neck, squirming over his lap as his hands drag up your waist until his fingers find the edge of one of the pathetic triangles covering your breasts. He can feel your breath hitch as he pulls it to the side, exposing your tight little nipple to the cold air.

“God, baby,” he groans, dipping his head forward to wrap his lips around the little bud. You moan so loud and wanton as he licks you that he knows he’s fucking done for.

He digs his fingers into your still damp hair, tugging your head back so that he can finally drag your mouth to his. You taste like wine and sunshine and he’s never been much of a wine guy, but from your tongue he’ll taste anything.

You open up to him so sweetly, your hands clutching his shoulders and your hips moving against his painfully hard cock as he devours you, dragging his own hands over all that exposed skin like it’ll disappear if he doesn’t touch you everywhere at least once.

It’s still not nearly enough.

He stands and you squeak in surprise as he sits you on the edge of the table. “Holy shit,” you mutter. He glances at your face to make sure you’re okay.

Your hair is messy from his hands and lips swollen from his kisses, eyes wide and dark as you stare back at him. Your top is half off, and Joel can’t help but reach out and tug the other cup down to expose your other breast.

“Pretty as a goddamn picture, darlin’,” he murmurs. He presses a hand to your chest, urging you to lie back.

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask. He huffs a laugh.

“Don’t be a brat, fishin’ for compliments,” he admonishes. He plucks at the strings holding those little bottoms in place, the bows falling loose so that he can push the material aside. “Look at this pretty fuckin’ pussy. You’re drenched, baby.”

“Been like this every day,” you reply, voice all breathy as you squirm beneath his rapt attention.

“That right?” He asks, dragging his thumb through your wet folds. You moan, hips jumping from the table. He kneels, placing one arm around over your hips as he presses your legs apart with his free hand, spreading you for him.

You’re breathing so fast he’s almost worried you might pass out. “Shhh, pretty thing, let me take care of you.”

He licks a broad stripe over your core, his tongue swirling around your aching clit before dipping back down to your entrance. You fight against his hold, hips trying in vain to chase his mouth.

“Oh, god,” you cry out. Your hands find their way to his head, fingers scratching against his scalp as he feasts on your cunt. “Joel, more, please!”

He keeps his arm tight against you and uses his other hand to slip one finger into your wet heat, groaning at how tight you are. His tongue focuses on your clit while he slowly strokes his finger in and out, adding a second then a third when you start babbling about more more more.

“Fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg. He shakes his head against your cunt, the scrape of his beard against your sensitive flesh making you scream. “Please!”

He stands, continuing to stroke his fingers inside you as he uses his thumb on your clit to replace his tongue. “Can’t, baby girl, I don’t have a condom with me.”

“I’m clean, I’m on the pill, please, Joel, I need your cock so bad,” you plead. Joel groans. He’s already crossed a line but he can’t go there. He knows damn well that if he feels you clenching around him with nothing between your bodies, screaming his name as he pounds inside of you, he won’t ever leave.

“No, sweetheart, you’re going to come on my hand and my mouth or you’re not going to come at all,” he snaps, hand moving faster, curling against your front wall.

_______

Tears slip from the corners of your eyes as Joel continues to drive you higher and higher toward release, your muscles tightening painfully as his fingers curl inside you and his thumb circles your clit.

You don’t know what you expected from all this, but Joel Miller dirty talking and finger fucking you on your kitchen table was not on your deduction bingo card. He’s better than anything your brain has conjured up thus far and you just know this one time isn’t going to be enough to sate you, especially since he keeps calling you “good girl” and “darlin’” and “sweetheart” in his rough southern accent.

You want him to fuck you so bad, you’re desperate for it. But he’s staunchly refusing to cross that line despite the hundreds that have been crossed already.

You try to hold back your orgasm, not wanting this to end, but it crashes over you anyways, leaving you breathless and sobbing his name as his hand slows its pace.

Joel’s fingers slip from your body and he leans forward, pressing them to your lips. You open your mouth, licking and sucking at his offering.

“Goddamnit,” he groans. “That was gorgeous.”

You sit up, supporting yourself on shaky arms. He steps back, but you hook a leg around his waist to stop him.

“Wait, let me—“

“No, baby, I’m good,” he says, cutting you off and dodging your hands. “I gotta get back to work.”

You can feel your high leave you in an instant. “Oh…okay.”

“Thank you for…lunch,” he says awkwardly. “I’ll be upstairs. If you need me.”

You don’t say anything as he turns to leave.

————

Upstairs in the bathroom, the one not being remodeled that he presumes is yours due to the messy countertop and fluffy yellow towels, Joel takes his cock from his pants and fists his length, grip almost painful as payment for his transgressions.

He cums with the thought of your eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, shouting his name as you clenched around his fingers. Your name is on his lips in the softest whisper he can manage as he cums, hard and hot, into a tissue.

He slumps against the wall, breathless. And while he may have come faster than a teenager, he doesn’t feel an ounce of relief.

Fuck.

#joel x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel is daddy #age difference #no minors allowed #no outbreak #tlou

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russellsppttemplates · 4 months

Text

Sharing is caring (George Russell)

A long weekend with the Russells

Note: english is not my first language. I know this is very very very overdue, but hopefully it's still enjoyable!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: pregnancy

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Are you guys doing well back there?", you asked the kids as George drove the four of you up to his parents' house. According to the screen display, you still had a little over an hour until you arrived at George's parents house where you would be staying for the long weekend to enjoy some family time before the season picked up again.

"Does anyone need a bathroom break?", George asked, looking at Olivia and Arthur through the rear view mirror, "I'm fine", Olivia chirped in, "me too, I'm okay", Arthur added.

"You're doing okay, too?", George asked you, hand on your thigh as he drove, "I'm fine. I never want to say it too loud, but I think morning sickness stopped two weeks ago", you added.

"Little one has had enough causing raucous", George whispered, turning his attention back to the road ahead.

"We're nearly there, right, daddy?", Arthur asked as he recognised the streets as the car approached his grandparents' house, "yes, we just turn here and at the end there", George replied as you texted your mother in-law, letting her know to open the big gate so no one had to get out of the car.

"Guys, you're here! Did you have a good trip?", Allison welcomed you into the house, hugging the kids who immediately ran and hugged her legs, "grandma!!", they excitedly said.

"We did, it was fine. There was a little traffic at the end, but we were so close I think it barely bothered us", you said as you greeted Steve, walking inside the house and making sure the kids left their shoes by the door.

"I'm going to take the bags upstairs", George said, kissing your forehead, "I'll be right back", he smiled as you ushered Olivia and Arthur to the bathroom, "Y/N, here, darling, our some slippers on!", Allison offered.

Since Allison and Steve lived on their own again, as every child had now fled the nest, they updated the bedrooms, you and George staying in the guest bedroom with a double bed and the kids occupying the room they had for whenever the grandchildren stayed over.

"Lunch is ready, so when you can come down, we're waiting for you", George's mother called him as he helped you sort out the room for your children, "we'll be down in a little, thanks!".

After eating and helping tidying the kitchen, George took the kids out to the garden, hoping to use up their energy since they spent the whole morning inside a car.

"Is the swing alright, dad?", George questioned, "yes, me and Benjy sorted it out a few weeks ago. It's good as new", he answered, prompting George to take the kids to the renovated swing set.

When he was younger, he didn't spend too much time at home since racing required him to spend a lot of time away, but the times he did spend back home were filled with memories os this swing.

"Is this the old swing you told us about?", Arthur said, unsure of the whole apparatus since he heard stories from when his father and his uncle and aunt were much younger.

"Yes, me and uncle Benjy used to spend a lot of time here with auntie Cara, too! Who wants to go first?", he said as Olivia volunteered.

"It's safe, Arthur, see?", she said as she balanced her body back and forth, making her brother feel a little more comfortable with the whole thing, "I'll share it with you later, okay?".

"Sharing is important", George began, "and the fact that you guys always share is very nice, me and mummy are very proud of you", he said as Arthur picked some flowers from the grass and gave some to Olivia.

"We're siblings, of course we share everything", Arthur said naturally. It was true. For him, even if Olivia picked on his buttons a few times, he wouldn't ever not want to share something with her.

"Would you want to share your things with somebody else?", George tried as the kiss both looked at him like they didn't know what he was on about, "what I means is, would you mind having to share your things with someone else?", he clarified.

The pregnancy news were still between you and George, excluding your doctor. Because the kids could easily spill the news to somebody else and you had been specially careful so the news would stay between the people you wanted to until the doctor considered it was okay.

"I always share with my friends, too. But yesterday I had all the grapes mummy cut up for me because they were really good and I really wanted them", Arthur admitted as Olivia quirked a brow, "I think we could, yes. Even our toys, we share them too", Olivia added.

George seemed satisfied enough with the answers, hoping that when you broke the news they wouldn't have a complete meltdown.

"C'mon, Liv, it's Arthur's turn", George requested gently, the girl hopping off so her brother could have a go.

"What is mummy doing?", your son asked, "she was helping grandma with tonight's dinner when I asked if she wanted to come with us", George offered.

When they arrived back in time to have a quick shower and get ready for family dinner, you and George dressed them in comfortable clothes since it was just close family. Once they started arriving, the kids found their spot on the floor of the living room, playing with toys and colouring books while the adults caught up with eachother.

"Y/N! I haven't seen you in so long!", Cara said as she came up to you for a hug, "we've been busy, but we managed to sort some time out to come up here", you smiled, offering her the little pastries you had been working on with your mother in-law, "these are delicious!".

Excusing yourself from the group, you went to check on the kids, sitting on the sofa and getting a few cuddles from your nieces and nephews, "auntie Y/N!", one of them gasped, "you almost fell asleep while I was showing you my drawing", he said as Arthur snickered, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, you can show me again, please", you offered, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes.

"Darling, do you want some wine? We found your favourite in the shops the other day, Steve bought a couple of bottles", your mother in-law smiled as she stretched her arm to receive your glass when you were all in the dining room, "I don't, thank you for thinking of me, though", you smiled, exchanging a look with George that wasn't missed by his sister.

"I saw that!", Cara pointed out, "what was that?!", she questioned her brother, knowing he would break under her stare.

"Y/N has something to tell you", he quickly offered, passing the ball to your court as you felt everyone's eyes on you.

"This is not how it was supposed to go, but there wasn't a proper plan either, so... we are having a baby!", you announced, unfolding your leggings and letting your small baby bump show.

"Oh my goodness, another baby!", Allison cooed as your children looked at George for confirmation, "you're going to have a little brother, guys!", he said as they ran to hug you baby bump.

"I noticed your tummy was bigger, but I just thought you had a big lunch!", Arthur said, delighting everyone as they laughed, George watching everyone congratulate you before also congratulating him, "congratulations, darling", his mother kissed his cheek.

"We've been a little more careful this time around, did all the tests and in the blood test, the doctor told us were having a little boy", you smiled, kissing the top of your kids' heads as they latched onto your sides.

"Well, we can celebrate with the wine still! Some juice for you, Y/N", Steve poured in your cup.

When it came to bedtime, the kids didn't want to sleep in a separate room from you, and since the bed was big enough, you allowed them to sleep with you and George.

"That's what I'm saying, guys. It doesn't mean mummy is sick, but it means she needs our help more, she won't be able to do all things at once and it's our job to make sure she rests, as well", you heard your husband tell the kids while you brushed your teeth in the en suite bathroom.

"Time for sleep, kids", you said, lying down on the mattress, you and George brushing each of their hairs as they switched off, almost like a button, "they used up all their energy today", George began, "Did you know these two were wondering how they could help you, because they were worried that you are tired. You even fell asleep on the sofa..!", George tried his best to mimick his nephew shocked expression, earning one of your beautiful laughs.

"I love them so much", you sighed, "and I love you", you kissed his lips.

Kissing your forehead, George's hand managed to reach your bump despite the little boy latching on you like a koala and your daughter lying on top of him, drawing random shapes on it, "not as much as I love all of you".

#george russell imagine #george russell fanfic #george russell x reader #george russell fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

256 notes · View notes

marlenesluv · 9 months

Note

Hiiiii beautiful. I an idea if you don't want to write it. that's okay. I have this imagine like charles dating an plusize (face claim : Javiera or courtney jean l just loves them ) but when they announced their relationship but she just getting a lot of hate but she just doesn't care about this hate but charles don't like this and release a statement to stop this hate. and again if you don't want to write it that's okay 💞💞

Hate doesn’t bother me. (CL)

hi, love!! and no no, i love this so much! charles is such a protective cutie, this is so sweet. i’m assuming this is a smau, if you want a fic as well, js lemme know! :) 💓

face claim: javiera

warnings: fans being mean, one fat shaming comment (dw, it’s shut down)

note: i have been fat shamed before, it’s not fun. so pls pls be kind to everyone. every single one of these beautiful humans on earth are amazing and sexc. don’t be a cunt.

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

liked by: yourbsf, charles_leclerc, and 325,828 others

y/n.user: panamá is perfect for dates, don’t ya think?

view comments…

user57: why tf did charles leclerc like this?

|> user04: he could js be friends with her? idk man

yourbsf: OKAYYYY YOU ATE BABE🤎🤎

|> y/n.user: AHHHHH ILY🤎

y/n.fp: you look stunningggg

*liked by creator*

charles.fans: isn’t charles in panama??

|> char.fp: hopefully not. she is not the vibe fr

|> charles.fans: ikr?? no way she’s with him

lilymhe: ☺️☺️ pretty pretty

|> y/n.user: that’s you🤭

user19: LILY?? oh naw, i don’t need THIS tdy

_______________________________________________

liked by: carlossainz55, y/n.user, and 915,176 others

charles_leclerc: panama is beautiful, but i can thing of something more beautiful…

view comments…

carlossainz55: hope you’re having fun this break! miss you!

|> charles_leclerc: miss you too, bro!!

user46: y/n liked this……

|> charles.fans: i knew this was gonna happen, ew

|> ferrari.fp: he is way out of her league bro….

f1updates: these comments are kinda dramatic but i live for drama

pierregasly: have fun😏

|> charles_leclerc: stop texting me.

|> pierregasly: wow. miss you too🖕

charles.editpage: he’s so hot

user10: i refuse to believe that he’s there with y/n, she’s j not pretty like his other ex’s were

_______________________________________________

liked by: charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 469,360 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

y/n.user: wtf is a soft launch?

view comments…

user56: that was bold….

|> user03: nah cuz who tf does she think she is?

charles.fans: byeee😭 this is NOT real

charles_leclerc: we don’t know what a soft launch is😋

|> y/n.user: nopeeee

char.myhub: NOOOOO. HER BUT NOT ME???

ferrari.fanpage: she’s so ugly what is going onnnn

|> y/n.fp: she’s not tho….

|> ferrari.fanpage: she is. she’s bigger than him

|> y/n.fp: ur actually mad bc she’s not a size 0? grow tf up fr. she’s literally a MODEL, and what are you bebe?

|> ferrari.fanpage: shes a PLUS SIZED model.

|> y/n.fp: what’s ur point? you are NOT a model😭you’re fr j mad cuz she bagged charles and you didn’t. grow up

carmenmmundt: you guys are so cute

*liked by creator*

_______________________________________________

twitter:

F1 Wag Updates @f1wagupdates • 3hr

Charles Leclerc, driver for Scuderia Ferrari, has officially announced his relationship with Model, Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N has always faced a certain level of hate for being a plus sized model, and with recent news relating Charles, it has only gotten worse.

We ask that you please keep rude comments to a minimum, preferably none. Keep insults to yourself, lets support Y/N and Charles. They seem like quite the happy couple.

*please note that comments on this tweet have been disabled, as we want no hate spreading through our comments*

*comments have been disabled*

_______________________________________________

liked by: charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 639,013 others

y/n.user: vacation is coming to a close :( but i can’t wait to see you shine this year on the track <3

view comments…

charles_leclerc: i can’t wait to have you dressed in head to toe ferrari gear :)

|> y/n.user: i can’t wait either, my love

user71: i genuinely can not accept this

charles.fanpage: shes so ugly, pls break uppppppp

carlossainz55: excited to have a new face in the paddock! can’t wait to meet :)

|> y/n.user: awe, i can’t wait to meet either! charles rly talked you up

|> carlossainz55: he did??

|> charles_leclerc: no…

user49: this is not real this is not real this is not real

yourbsf: stunner

|> y/n.user: i miss you

|> yourbsf: i miss you sm more

_______________________________________________

your instagram story:

seen by: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 499,012 others

_______________________________________________

liked by: y/n.user, pierregasly, and 1,103,944 others

charles_leclerc: i don’t know what i did to gain such an angel in my life. someone who makes me smile from a simple text notification to seeing you when i wake up. i can not fathom the hate my girlfriend is receiving. you do not know her or me, don’t go around on social media like you do. i haven’t been this happy ever. don’t compare her to other people, dont belittle her, and do not leave rude comments. i am sick and tired. i love you, ma cherié. it’s a miracle that you can put up with me <3

*view comments*

*comments have been limited*

y/n.user: i love you so much. the hate doesn’t bother me as long as you’re here

|> charles_leclerc: i have no idea how nothing bothers you

_______________________________________________

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc instagram au #smau

487 notes · View notes

scarvain · 2 months

Text

✶ STARGIRL — hamzahthefantastic x reader

006 ✶ Something Bout You

stargirl masterfile – next – previous

SUMMARY: hamzah has a crush on a youtuber who's always out and about and slushies see their relationship progress on social media! (smau)

DISCLAIMER: reader is a brown haired girl and for some pics that aren't faceless, i'll be using olivia rodrigo cause i love her and she’s filipino like me hehehe

A/N: not proofread! so sorry for taking so long to update this seriesss

liked by ynln and 10,819 others

slushynfan y/n and hamzah were at a bar in los angeles last night!

view comments

user792 theyre so cuteee

user018 i live for this account

user633 Are they dating noowww?????

user014 not y/n lurking and liking the post 😭

ynln posted on their story !

“i know you’re like upset over the coffee but i literally offered to get you another one and you said no.” hamzah teased as he looks up from his phone to the girl in front of him. you were looking down at your phone, your lower lip being bit as you try to stop herself from smiling.

you shut your phone off after looking at the story you posted one last time. you grin at him, taking a piece from the croissant he got you.

“it’s fine hamzah i swear,” your words muffled by the croissant.

this is usually how they spent their days in la. either one of them would oversleep and the other would go out to buy them coffee and breakfast but today, both of them surprisingly woke up late, about to leave to do the routine but caught each other.

the past days, it was you who overslept but hamzah didn’t mind, not wanting to disturb your sleep and at times he’d just admire your sleeping figure as you tossed and turned on the bed while he got ready to leave. though, every time he got out to get you coffee, the barista would always make a mistake with your order which you never told him until today.

the past few days also made you realize that your crush on hamzah was growing deeper and deeper. you didn’t know whether or not what you’ve been hearing about him liking you were true so you didn’t bother mentioning what you were feeling towards him but he was starting to notice that at times, you tend to be awkward and hesitant especially when he gets too close or your bodies touch the slightest bit.

he takes also piece from your croissant, larger than the one you took earlier which made your eyebrows knit and jaw slack open.

“hamzah, what the hell!” you said louder than usual, the other customers glancing to where the pair of you were sat.

a smile was on his face as he chewed. when he finished, he took a huge sip from the drink you haven’t touched since you took one sip from it, earning a confused look from you. he looked up at you with an innocent look, head tilted slightly. “what? said you didn’t like this right?”

you roll your eyes playfully, crossing your arms. “yeah, but i’d you know—still drink it!” you stuttered, shrugging a bit.

“sure y/n…” hamzah said before he took a sip from your drink again. “we’ve been here for almost 20 minutes, the ice is almost completely melted, would you actually still drink this?”

as you were about to answer, he continued speaking again. “and the fact they got your order completely wrong too, don’t lie to me now.” he smirked at you teasingly.

you narrowed your eyes at him as if you were testing him, trying to see if you’d win but seconds later, you let out a groan. “ugh fine, okay. yes i won’t drink it.” you roll your eyes, trying to hide the smile on your face.

“now, can you please let me get you another drink?” he asked with a smile.

“okay, but get me a matcha latte instead of the coffee.”

“yes ma’am!” he tells you, smile not leaving his face as he saluted to you like a little kid before going to the counter to order.

the interaction leaving butterflies fluttering in your stomach and a red tint on your cheeks.

✶ taglist — @cdbabymp3 @noturbabe22 @dabuggh3 @thatmartinkitten @tumb1rgir1z @mfcherry @ldrvinyl @certainfestivalnerdshepherd @seasidelily @jisyng @brucewayngfreal @beamuah @maybankfr LMK IF U WANNA BE ADDEDDD!!!

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah x reader #hamzah fanfic #slushy noobz #savi's works ✶#savi’s stargirl ✶

129 notes · View notes

sxtvrns · 1 year

Text

the firsts i’ve never felt

🎶 now playing: clementine - grentperez

P: Kim Jongseob x Fem!Reader

S: You find yourself wandering the headquarters after being left unattended. He finds himself unreasonably intrigued by you.

C: meet cute, fluff, puppy love, inaccuracy, a bit sloppy, mentions of bullying, kinda rushed?

N: i’ve transformed my entire feed and started a bunch of masterlists and stuff! this fic is part of one of them that i need to design and stuff but i hope you’re loving the organization because i certainly am. i really wanna write but my brain is running out of scenarios i can work off of so if you dont hear from me for a while you know why. if i don't get a hair colour right sue me i can't memorize everything | all ages listed are korean, not international!

view the rest of the conversations ☆彡

please interact if you enjoy!

“Hey, honey, do you wanna come and visit my new job today? They’re showing me around, and you’re planning to work in the entertainment industry behind the scenes, aren’t you?”

…sounds like a super unprofessional thing for your mom to say on her first day of the job. However, the staff gave her leeway somehow after saying you were an aspiring makeup artist with a growing following. She said you could join in a few years, if you’d like. You still had time to think about it.

“So, how old is your daughter?” The employee asks.

“16.”

“What kind of makeup does she do?”

“She has a rather… broad spectrum. I could go into specifics but that would require me showing you examples and taking up your time.”

“Oh, go ahead! Besides, I could use a break from the work.”

The door to the elevator opens with a ding, both adults behind you not seeming to pay attention. You quickly but stealthy walk off the elevator, their attention still focused on your mom’s phone. As the doors close, they still don’t seem to notice, instead they continue going up, and you’re left alone in the quiet, empty hallway.

Somewhat quiet, actually. There was loud music coming from some of the rooms you could hear from outside as you walked by. Your phone buzzed in your hand, though you aren’t bothered to check it until another staff member sees you in the hall. She goes on her phone, types rapidly on the screen, and starts walking towards you.

You walk away from her at a quickened pace, turning the corner and beginning to run. You turn the corner again, briefly glancing at the rooms as you pass by, all of them with people inside and the lights on. Except for one.

The sound of steps sounded like it grew withe presence of multiple people, so you had no time to check and instead opened the door, and to your relief, no one was inside. You shut it quietly, hiding against the wall in hopes that the crowd passes by.

The buzzing from your phone earlier was frantic texts from your mom, asking where you went and specifying that the staff was now looking for you. You replied calmly that you ‘took yourself on your own tour’ and ‘got off as a joke in hopes she would notice’. You could practically hear her sigh at her phone as she responds with ‘i’ll keep you updated’ before leaving you on read.

You slide down against the wall, sitting and observing the environment around you. This was a dance studio, one of many that looked the same as some of the others. You didn’t want to get caught, so you stayed there for a bit on your phone, caught off guard at the sound of someone opening the door.

At first you panic, thinking someone from staff found you, but it was just some guy adorned in all black with a beanie and a mask, taking both of them off and somehow not noticing you.

You spoke too soon.

the first meet.

His eyes widened at the sight of you, the door he held open by a sliver. You hear something from outside.

“Jongseob, there’s some new hire’s daughter on the loose and she was last seen on this floor, have you seen her?” A staff member asks, the boy’s head peeking back in to look at you. You frantically shake your head and gesture for him to keep his mouth shut as he peeks out the door right after.

“I haven’t seen her, sorry.”

He fully closes the door this time, a sigh of relief escaping you as your eyes stayed glued on the boy that was nice enough to not snitch. “What are you doing here?” He asks, a reasonable question since you were in the studio for a reason other than dancing. “My mom works here. She’s starting today. And… I may or may not have gotten off the elevator too early.” You try to sum it up.

“Why?”

“Um, they were distracted. And I didn’t think the door would close right after I got off.”

“How did they even let you in?”

“I might work someplace like this as a makeup artist. When I’m older. My mom brought me along for her tour, and… that’s how I ended up here. I was running away from staff. If you want, I can leave.”

“I didn’t lie just for you to get out and defeat the whole purpose of it. It’s okay, you can stay as long as you need to.”

“Really? I’m not intruding?”

“My members won’t be here for the next little while, if you’re overwhelmed by the presence of multiple men.”

His joke makes you laugh, and you inch out of the corner you’re hiding in more, seeing him walk towards you and open the laptop on the desk. “How old are you now?” He suddenly asks, a question you find odd at first.

“16.” (international age = 14, turned 15 after a few weeks)

“Really? Me too.”

“You looked a little young. Are you a trainee?”

“I actually debuted a few weeks ago. We’re doing some promotional stuff and we have practice today.”

“Do you want me to leave when they arrive?”

“You can stay for now. It’s up to the leader if he wants you in or not. I guess if you aren’t distracting, you could watch. But I gotta wait for him.”

“I’ll check you guys out sometime. All the groups are listed in the lobby, so…”

“P1Harmony. You’ll find us easily.”

Quiet clicks come from the mousepad, as you merely stare up at him, who seems to be so focused on the screen in front of him. He looks up, then looks down at you, and your observing gaze fixed on his face. He ponders, before holding his hand out. “Nice to meet you. I’m–“

“Jongseob. You’re Jongseob.”

You finish his sentence for him, leaving him visibly surprised as you shake his hand.

“Um, I heard them say your name from the hall.” You explain, him nodding. “I’m Y/N.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

You find yourself blushing. “Thank you… um, also for not snitching. I texted my mom that I was okay, so everything should be fine now.”

“That’s good. Maybe don’t get off the elevator while she’s distracted next time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Music starts playing from the speakers, Jongseob walking away to the center of the room to warm up. Your eyes are on him the entire time, since there was nothing else you could focus on. Even if you tried going on your phone, the music would draw your attention away from it.

You had a short attention span.

But watching Jongseob merely warm up seemed to prove otherwise. Your eyes were glued to his movements and small yet precise spotting, how precise he was when he matched every beat and transition. You stared at his reflection and his back the whole time, gaze moving to his face.

He caught you staring, looking back at you through the reflection of the mirror with a subtle smirk before going back to dancing.

He comes back to pause the music while you space out staring at the floor, as he takes off his beanie and runs his hand through his hair. “How’d I do? Seemed like I caught your attention.”

You clear your throat. “Good. Really good.”

He believes you have another reason you aren’t telling him, still deciding to sit down beside you despite doing so. “What are you doing?” You ask, looking at him. “Sitting with you. Why, does this bother you?”

“No. Just… I thought you’d be warming up more. That seemed short.”

“It seemed short because you were watching me. I was dancing for, what, a little over 10 minutes? I think I’ve warmed up enough.”

“Right.” You say, kind of understanding what he’s saying. “I like your hair. The colour is very pretty.” A light purple that could be described as lavender was what it was. It painted him as docile, gentle. He seemed to be so, given he was sitting with you like this along the side of the room.

“Thank you.” He smiles, sounding genuine. So genuine, in fact, that he smiles at you for the first time with his teeth showing, his hand covering his mouth right after. You take a mental note of that habit. “When did you start training?” You ask.

“When I was 12.” (international age = 10, turned 11 later that year due to late birthday)

“That young?! When I was 12 I was still scared of the concept of paragraphs…”

“I’ve always wanted to be a singer. Perform for others. There was a chance, so I took it.”

“I admire you for that. Taking risks that benefited you later in the future.”

“You took a risk today.”

“I did?”

“You stepped off the elevator and outran a bunch of staff successfully.”

“And I benefited from it how?”

“You met me.”

You’re unsure if he’s flirting with you, but your face heats up regardless. “Yet I’ll never see you again. But… I enjoy your company. And I appreciate your kindness.” When you look up from the ground, he’s handing you his phone, the keypad open.

“Let’s keep in touch.”

At first, you’re a little stunned at his boldness. But you accept his offer, typing in your phone number and letting him do the same with your phone right after. “I’ll try to text you back when I can. I’m pretty busy.”

“And I’ll try to not keep my phone on silent. I’ve missed so many interviews because of it…”

“For part-time jobs?” You nod. “I later learned they weren’t paying what they should be, so I guess I dodged a bullet.”

“Do you have a job now?”

“I work at a convenience store for income. My mom’s always saying I never needed to take a part-time job claiming we’re somewhat rich, but I wanted a bit of independence for myself. And I get free food and snacks sometimes, so that’s a bonus.”

“If I come visit, will I get free food?”

“Convenience store snacks are cheap enough already. Maybe I’ll give you ₩489 off.”

(₩489 = 0.50 cents)

He laughs at your offer. “I’ll take it.”

The door suddenly opens, five other men coming in all at once, stopping once they notice the two of you sitting together against the wall.

“Hello.” Jongseob greets, getting up. “Who’s that?” One of them asks, looking at you. “A… friend.” He responds.

“How did she get in here?”

“Long story.”

Their stares are reasonable, yet they make you feel uncomfortable as you feel out of place cooped up against the wall. Jongseob seemed to notice, shooting you a quick question. “Are you okay?”

The sound of his has your head turned to face him as you nod, acting like you weren’t spaced out prior. “I’m fine. This is the rest of your group?”

“Yeah. You can stay for practice if you’d like. I’ll ask Keeho.”

Surely they wouldn’t mind, you were just afraid you’d misinterpret their gazes for glares that would scare you off. “I would, but I should go. I already texted my mom earlier that I’d be leaving while she was still working. But I’ll leave. I don’t want to be… distracting.”

“You aren’t distracting at all.” He attempts to reassure you.

“Says the one who was looking at me through the mirror’s reflection.”

“Jongseob, should we warm up?” One of the boys asks, taking off their hoodie and beanie while they all simultaneously look at the two of you. That was an indirect invitation saying that they were about to start, him getting up his spot and lending you a hand to do the same.

“Thank you, Jongseob. I’ll text you.” He nods with a smile as you leave the room, your fast paced steps almost being heard from the inside of the room.

“Who was that, Jongseob?” Theo asks as the youngest walks over. “A new friend. She kinda abandoned her mom unintentionally and hid in here from the staff.”

“Oh, her. The people downstairs were talking about it.” Intak adds.

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“Mixed. How come her mom brought her here?”

“Y/N’s planning to work in the industry as a makeup artist, and her mom wanted to show her a potential place for hiring since she’s already working here.”

“She said she’d text you.” ‘What does that mean?’ Keeho meant to ask.

“I gave her my number.”

They’re all surprised, wide eyed and everything. “Really?”

“I wanna talk to her more. I think you guys scared her off.”

“We don’t look scary.” Intak looks at himself, then everybody else. Jongseob’s eyes dart over all five of them briefly. “You guys look terrifying.”

“As if you weren’t wearing the same thing when you left the apartment.” Theo sneers, looking at him weirdly. “Hey, she liked my hair and I saved her from a bunch of staff. I’m a pretty approachable person even with the coverups.”

“You approached her.” Theo retorts.

“And?”

Intak, very obviously antsy, whines. “Can we just start, please? We’ll talk about this later.” He groans in distress, convincing the rest of the boys to move on. Keeho speaks up first from the sea of silent stares.

“Let’s go, then.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

On the way home from school, you usually take the shift right after at the convenience store you worked at. It was close to home but not far from school, you managed to be on time for majority of your shifts.

Your coworker seemed to be eye candy for the girls your age that came in, but you saw him more as an older brother figure. He was super nice and always filled in for when you weren’t feeling well, and frankly, you thought it was a bit strange girls your age were pining over a man in his late 20s.

You had your fair share of attraction to more famous people that were older than you, but the fact you knew your coworker long enough to know things about him kind of made some situations awkward. Sure, he was cute, but come on. He’s practically looking for an actual job already and the fact he’s stuck with you is because he actually enjoys his part-time and you two were always only available for the same time slot every day.

You weren’t working today. You knew he was. So you assumed that it would just be a straight shot walk home.

Until you remembered you were a victim of verbal harassment.

You never did anything wrong, you were just laughed at and picked on by a specific group of girls for a reason you didn’t know. You always believed it was because you were prettier than them, given that their crushes ended up all mutually pining over you rather than them.

It’s a joke that you laugh at with them at times, yet the girls still don’t seem to like you.

At least they weren’t cutting your hair or anything. You could take words but you couldn’t take a pencil being dug into your hand.

So when you saw those girls turn the corner, you ran, fingers crossed they didn’t see you.

“Y/N, come back! We have something to tell you!”

They saw you.

With your backpack almost falling off, and the sound of rapid footsteps that sounded like they were getting closer, you spot the convenience store you worked at and run in, your coworker behind the desk and watching you hide behind the shelf closest to the wall.

At first, you’re panting, out of breath and coughing as you try to get it back.

“Y/N?”

You look up.

Jongseob is standing there, fridge door held open by his hand with a drink in the other, small clouds of steam coming from the cool air hitting the heated room. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You would’ve told him the truth if the story was so long. You peek up from the shelf, fully standing up when you see no one there. “Are you hiding from someone?” He asks, obviously and reasonably clueless as he lets the door close. You merely nod, seeing the girls out of the corner of your eye through the glass and ducking down again, dragging Jongseob along with you.

The bell above the door rings as shuffling can be heard going towards the counter.

“Shin-Il! We saw Y/N come in here, did you see her?” One of the girls’ ear piercing voices rings in your ears, their attempt at acting cute and desperate simply making you cringe. Luckily you told your coworker about your complicated situation with these girls. “No, sorry. She isn’t working today.”

While you’re mentally pleading that they don’t care enough to check around the store, Jongseob’s eyes stay on you and dart around just in case, being able to hear the brief conversation as he stares.

“We’re looking for her! Are you sure she isn’t in the bathroom or something?”

“She isn’t here. Maybe she went somewhere else.”

They all whine, leaving the store as you let out a sigh of relief. You look up to see Jongseob offering you a hand, which you accept, helping you up as you lean against the fridge door, in disbelief that those girls were so clueless.

“Why were they looking for you?”

“They hate me, that’s why.”

“Why would they hate you?”

“Because I’m prettier than them. Long story.”

“The boys they liked all ended up liking Y/N collectively. Friendly with the boys, tormented by the girls.” Shin-Il suddenly appears out of nowhere, handing you a small bottle of water. “Who’s this, Y/N?”

“My friend.”

“How do you two know each other?” Jongseob asks.

“We work together part-time. We always end up picking the same shifts, and I make sure she doesn’t get killed by her fellow classmates when they come to visit.”

“Are these girls really bullying you, Y/N? Have you brought it up with anyone?” Jongseob asks, the worry noticeable in his tone. “They haven’t physically harmed me. When you consider all the details, they’re just jealous.”

“I don’t know any of the details, and that’s why I’m concerned.”

“I’m fine, Jongseob, really. I think I just… need to stay in here for a while. Just in case they’re in any of the other stores.”

“I can walk home with you, if you’d like.” He starts. “Um, just in case they show up or something, I can like, cover you–“

“I’d like that.”

You cut him off with your straightforward answer, and he seemed to be content as he sends you a closed lip smile. “Are you ready to go? Do you want anything?” He asks, looking out the window just in case. “I haven’t eaten lunch today, but I don’t have enough money on me.”

“I can pay for you. Get whatever.”

“Really? But I don’t know when I’ll pay you back.”

“You don’t have to if you can’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Jongseob��“

“Y/N, please. It’s okay, really. If you want to stay here and eat, you can do that too. I’ll wait.”

You feel a bit guilty as you get yourself dosirak and a small container of banana milk, seated at the window seat as Jongseob pays for your food. He sits down beside you, looking at the window and staring at you through your reflection in it. “Is it okay if you can tell me why those girls don’t like you?”

You swallow. “It’s really not a big deal, Jongseob.”

“Yes, it is. I know we’ve only ever talked a few times through text, but I’m… it sounds concerning that they’re willing to chase you for a few insults.” You sigh, taking a sip of your banana milk before trying to rack together all the pieces of the story.

“Well, Shin-Il kind of explained it to you already. Those girls have a crush on some guys, and those guys, at one point, ended up liking me. Now I just make fun of them for it as an inside joke, so I’m friendly with them. They don’t like me in that way anymore. Those girls dislike me because the guys liked me instead of them. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. That’s… stupid.”

“It is. They’re too ignorant to see that there’s really nothing there anymore. Otherwise, I feel we could be good friends. But I’m patient enough to wait until they realize their harassment was for a reason thats existence already faded away.” You continue to wolf down on your food, as hungry as you were, Jongseob merely keeping watch outside and of you. To make sure you weren’t choking, of course.

As you leave the store and your walk home begins, so does the empty feeling in the air.

“Are you sure the walk home isn’t far?” You ask. “No, I’ll be okay. It won’t be dark for a bit.”

“And… I promise I’ll pay you back, okay?”

“You really don’t have to…”

“Yes, I do. I know you’re an idol and all that, but you’re still a human with morals.”

“If you insist. But if you can’t, you don’t have to.”

“I will.”

Jongseob’s beanie hides his vibrant purple hair, and as much as you are disappointed you aren’t able to see it, you understand that it would be a dead giveaway that he was in the entertainment industry.

“I watched your show the other day.”

“Really? How did I do?”

“You were awesome! I think it’s cool that there’s an idol out there my age, and I’m friends with you, no less. You looked really good, too.”

“Thank you…” He wasn’t expecting to get so flustered over your compliments. Lucky he had no choice but to wear his mask. Jongseob watches as you bring your phone to your ear as you send a greeting over to the person on the other side of the line.

“I’m coming, I’m on my way home.”

“Yes, I’m okay. I’m with a friend right now.”

“He’s walking home after me, he’ll be okay.”

“Look, can you not be go crazy over this right now? I’ll talk to you later.”

“What do you mean ‘you want to meet him’?! You never want to meet anyone!”

“Okay, okay, fine, just stop screaming in my ear. Bye.” You end the call and let out a frustrated growl as you tighten your grip on your phone. “Everything okay?” Jongseob asks hesitantly.

“Just because I said I’m walking home with a ‘he’ my mom’s freaking out over it and now she wants to meet you.”

“I think I’ve run into your mom while at headquarters. She acknowledges me but is usually in a rush.”

“She’s usually late, that’s why. But she always gets one step ahead of her work, so she always gets excused. But seriously, is it just because you’re a guy that she wants to meet you? She didn’t ask to meet my other female friends and they just met her voluntarily while walking with me.”

“What about your dad?”

“Overseas for work. He’s coming back in a few weeks. He’s much more laid back. I think my mom is a bit… overprotective. I can understand that, but she could’ve asked me to introduce you without screaming at me…”

“Is she… abusing you?”

“God, no! It’s just one of those days, y’know? Maybe she got pissed off she stubbed her toe or something. And just because she always wants to keep watch over me, I feel like retaliating.”

“Is that why you stepped off the elevator?”

“Not really. Maybe.”

He can’t help but smile after uncovering your true motive.

As you approach the door, you have no choice but to knock given that your keys were probably buried somewhere deep in your backpack. Your mom opens the door with a relieved sigh as she opens her arms for a hug, which you reluctantly accept in front of Jongseob. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you, honey, I… I was having a bad day and I took it out on you and I was worried that–“

“Mom. It’s okay, I get it.” She smiles softly, any grudge you held against her melting away instantly. It was surprising how she was able to manipulate you so quickly. “You’re friends with Jongseob?” She asks.

“You know his name?”

“Of course I know his name, your mom works at FNC too.” She says, referring to herself in the third person. “Are you sure you can walk home alone? Isn’t it a bit far by foot?”

“I’ll be okay, ma’am.”

“I can give you a ride, it’ll be much faster.”

“My dorm isn’t too far from here and it won’t be dark for a while. Thank you for the offer.”

“Get home safe, okay?”

“I will. Bye Y/N.” He says his goodbyes as he walks away from the premises of your house, your mom letting you in and closing the door fully. “You didn’t tell me you were friends with Jongseob. I would’ve started bringing you to work after school so you don’t have to stay home alone. I could get you a pass to come in.”

“Isn’t that an abuse of your position?”

“I care about my daughter, what kind of abuse is that?”

You sigh followed by a smile as you begin to head up the stairs.

“You should’ve gotten his phone number before he left!” She yells before you disappear into your room.

“I already have it!” You yell back.

“Since when?”

You freeze, unable to think of an answer.

“Long story!”

“I have time!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Shin-Il!”

“Shin-Il, I got this for you!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Shin-Il!”

You roll your eyes as the countless crowds of girls just keep coming into the store. As much as it was annoying, you were glad you basically hogged all the free time since Shin-Il just had to be at the counter to tend to the flock.

“You could be doing better things right now.” He says, turning back to look at you. “Like what?” You rhetorically ask, looking up from your phone. “Restocking the shelves, cleaning the floors, doing your homework.”

“I am a very diligent student, thank you very much.”

“You don't even go to cram school. What about your fans?”

“I already posted last week. They know how intricate the process can be.” He begins to leave when you stop talking. “Gonna use the bathroom. The minute you stand up, you’re on register duty for the rest of the shift.”

“Then I’m not gonna stand up.”

He snatches the phone out of your hand, dangling it above his head. “Hey!” You jump up, struggling to reach your phone. Curse men for being so tall. “Give it back!” He hands the phone back to you, putting a hand on your shoulder and whispering into your ear.

“Your shift begins now.”

Jerk.

“That wasn’t even fair!” Shin-Il ignores you as you hear a door from a distance shut and lock. You sigh, annoyed, shoving your phone in your pocket before briefly scanning whatever was in view in case it needed restocking.

You don’t seem to be paying attention, because by the time you blink, a person is waiting at the counter.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll take those.” You apologize, embarrassed, scanning the person’s items and bagging them for him. You’re struggling to make eye contact as the person pays you, insisting you keep the change as they walk off. “Next.” You call, the person in line putting his things on the counter.

“Did you find everything you–“ You look up to see Jongseob, an innocent, toothy smile on his face. You noticed his fang, something you couldn’t help but find charming. “Hi.”

“Hi. Slow today?”

“All the customers came for Shin-Il and that’s it. You’re the second person I’ve served today.”

“I’m honored.”

“I don’t even know where he is and why he’s taking so long in the stupid bathroom. Anyways, how come you came here? Isn’t there a place closer to your dorm?”

“I just happened to be in the area. I also wanted to see you.”

Your heart flutters at the thought, but you shove those feelings down before it can reach your head. “Really? You could’ve just went someplace closer.”

“I figured I’d come say hi. I feel like this is the only time we can see each other like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like normal teenagers with normal lives.”

He pays for his items, leaving a container of banana milk out of his grasp. “You forgot–“

“It’s for you. Take it.”

“Jongseob, how am I gonna pay you back?”

“Don’t.”

“But–“

“Shhh.” He leans in, sliding the container towards you. “Let me be nice to you, okay?” He pulls away, acting as if he wasn’t so bold a few seconds ago. “Do you want me to walk you home again? I’ll ask the guys to come find me so I won’t have to walk home alone.”

“I don’t– um... I’ll be off a bit late.”

“Which gives me more of a reason to walk with you. It’s dark and you’ll be alone.”

“You know I don’t live far.”

“And you know that this is a safer decision and you’re ultimately denying it for the sake of my safety and convenience.”

“Jongseob, your safety matters way more than mine. You’re a freaking idol, for God’s sake. And I thought you came alone, what do you mean the guys can find you?”

“We decided to go out together. We ended up splitting up to explore and look around by ourselves. I think I’m the only person that went alone."

"I can tell. Did you ask them if they wanted anything?"

"Theo and Jiung are grabbing food for later." He pauses. "My offer still stands." He reminds, persistent. You look at him, appreciating his kindness but unsure if he was willing to wait. "I don't get off until 8."

"I'll walk around after I eat. You can call me when you're done."

Though you feel a bit guilty, it really seemed like he wasn't backing down. "Sure. Thanks. You're also holding up the line." He smiles before taking his items with him as he finds a seat, you taking the banana milk and sliding it closer to you and to the side. Shin-Il finally comes back after taking who knows how long in the bathroom, eyes landing on your friend.

"He's here again. You two must be close."

"Eh... lucky circumstance. What were you even doing in the bathroom, you weirdo?"

"What else would I be doing besides use it for its intended purpose?"

"No one pisses for 5 minutes, Il. You aren't fooling anyone. Is it that girl you're talking to?"

"I am not talking to anyone."

"When those girls find out they are gonna freak."

"I was buying tickets for a thing."

"I thought all public events were closed. You aren't that slick."

"Okay, maybe it is about that girl, but we're just going somewhere, that's all. But I was buying tickets for an exhibition, she loves art."

"Aw, how cute. So when's the wedding?" You take a sip from the small container of banana milk Jongseob bought for you, noticing he isn't in his seat anymore. How did he eat so fast? "Y/N, can you do restocks? We'll make more sales if I'm at the counter."

"You aren't that handsome. The schoolgirl rush is over, no one's gonna come in."

You were wrong.

Many people came in, just not his usual audience, but at least they weren't all up on him. You could hear the compliments from the fridge, but nothing seemed to bother you or him one bit.

As you take an empty box to the back, you go to grab another one until Shin-Il stops you. "I'll take it from here. Mun-Hee clocked in early. And you have a visitor." He pats your back as you get up, seeing Jongseob waving at you with a smile, taking his phone out and showing you the screen.

"It's 8 o'clock."

At first, you're shocked by his dedication, but frantically hurry to the back to clean up and grab your things in order to not keep him waiting. When you get back, you see him talking with your coworker, and you interrupt in order to stop Shin-Il from potentially saying anything embarrassing.

"All ready? Let's go."

You both say your goodbyes as you walk out the store, Mun-Hee nudging Shin-Il in the side. "Kid's got a boyfriend now?" She asks, only receiving a shrug in return. She's content with the answer, going back to your unfinished restocking job.

"You really did mean it when you said you'd wait."

"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?"

"Sometimes people change their minds or things happen out of their control that they just can't make it."

"I just walked around the park nearby and stuff. And– oh, I just remembered something." He stops, taking his beanie off and putting it on your head, revealing the alluring lavender that coloured his hair, something you secretly found appealing. You don't even have time to process that you were wearing the hat that covered his beautiful colour. "Jongseob, your hair. People might recognize you."

"Brought an extra. It's a bit late, so I doubt I'll get asked for a photo."

"So you planned this?"

"Whenever you send me selfie updates, you're never wearing a hat. You aren't even wearing a scarf, are you not freezing?"

"I am. I didn't think it'd get this cold, so I didn't bring one since it was warmer this morning."

"It'll always be colder at night, Y/N. You need to remember that, especially since you're working late."

"Did you even wash this?"

"Five times through the cycle. You seem to like it when we see each other, and conveniently, colder weather is approaching so I thought you should have it. You don’t have any hats at home?”

“I forgot to bring one. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. No need to pay me back, by the way.”

By the time you look back at him, his hair is covered again with another beanie, his stealthiness making you stifle a chuckle. “What?”

“I like your hair. I sometimes wish you didn’t have to hide it.”

“Well, I don’t necessarily hide it, I usually just wear hats because it’s more comfortable for me. A lot of people are dyeing their hair now, so I don’t think I’ll get recognized if I didn’t wear one.”

“How many people have you seen with purple hair in public?”

“Quite a few people, actually. So do you want me to take it off?”

“Huh? Why? Aren’t you cold?”

“At least I have a scarf. And you said you wished I didn’t have to hide it.”

“Weren’t you the one who said we shouldn’t risk anything when asking to walk me home?”

“Fair. But that’s a completely different scenario. I took a risk going down the path I’m still on today.”

“That is irrelevant.”

“Worth a shot.”

He walks with you to your door again, ringing the doorbell as you waited an unusually long time for your mom to answer.

“My mom said she could get me a card for FNC so I could stay there instead of alone at home after school. I tell her once and I’m already being pampered.” You laugh, Jongseob’s face lighting up. “Really? You should text me when you arrive! I’ll come find you, and I won’t bother if you have homework to do!”

“She hasn’t gotten it for me yet, I’m still thinking about it.”

“You should say yes so we can see each other in person more often! As long as your school isn’t far from headquarters, though.”

“We see each other when we call.”

“Seeing you like this is often just my luck. Otherwise I’m busy practicing or resting in the dorms. I like being able to talk to you in person.”

And as he smiles, that same one always on his face whenever you two seem to be together, you remember that he’s still just a kid. He’s the same age as you and he’s already in the spotlight, under the watchful eyes of so many fans through their screens.

You get to see him beyond that screen. You’ve been able to see him, meet him, know him beyond his idol persona. And he’s comfortable enough to share who he really is with you. You feel grateful for that.

The front door opens, your mom welcoming you in and noticing your friend by the door as well. “Jongseob, what a nice surprise! Such a coincidence you two ran into each other again. Thank you for walking with Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. L/N.”

“Do you need a ride back?”

“Jongseob!” Someone calls, a group of five guys crowded outside your house, which you then identify as his group. “Let’s go, dude! Food’s gonna get cold.” Another one adds.

“I should get going. See you tomorrow, hopefully?” He asks, almost promising.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

You both stand there for a moment, looking at each other as if you were anticipating something as your mom goes ahead inside, the door still open. He suddenly steps forward and wraps his arms around you, one of his hands resting on top of your head.

You’re surprised, but return the hug carefully before he pulls away, sending you a small wave as he goes to join his group in departing.

Jongseob feels an elephant in the room as he walks with them, Theo carrying on a conversation that didn’t seem to make the vibe go away. It doesn’t seem to until they all got back to the dorm, when they started eating.

“That’s a different hat. What happened to the other one?” Intak asks rhetorically. “Y/N had it.” Soul answers nonchalantly, not seeming to understand the sarcasm behind it. “I gave it to her. She was cold.”

“Is she borrowing it?” Jiung asks. “I gave it to her. It’s hers now.” Jongseob reiterates, his point clarified.

“How does Soul know her name and we don’t?” Keeho asks, mouth full. “I talk to her all the time, do you not hear?” Everyone but Soul shakes their head. “She’s nice.” Soul adds.

“Hopefully she can come after school tomorrow. Her mom is trying to get her admission in so she doesn’t have to stay at home.”

“You met her mom?” Intak asks, Jongseob nodding. “I run into her in the halls, sometimes in the elevator.”

“What was the hug for? I swore she looked like she could’ve fallen asleep in your arms.” Theo asks, pointing out something that had Jongseob questioning.

“I… I don’t know.”

his first crush.

“I was feeling nice, I guess. It was cold. She looked cold.”

Jongseob didn’t really have a reason. He couldn’t think of why he left you off with a hug that night. The question kept him up all night.

Along with the speed of his racing heart.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

seob

seobie

jongseob

hi sorry

whats up?

my mom is looking for you what dance room are you in

why is she looking for me?

has to give you something? idk she told me to ask

okay im in 205

thanks

Jongseob puts his phone down and goes back to warming up, taking off his hat and focusing on himself. More specifically, his hair.

‘I really like your hair. I sometimes wish you didn’t have to hide it.’

Why couldn’t he get that out of his head?

As the song begins to end, he hears a knock on the door, finishing off and pausing the music before answering. He opens the door to reveal you, still in your school uniform.

“Hi!” You greet. At first, he’s stunned. You’re really here, and you’re really visiting him. “I got a card from the front desk.” He’s still standing there, jaw slack, staring at you in disbelief. All of a sudden, he’s hugging you, hiding your face in his shoulder as he looks up to check the halls, guiding you in and closing the door.

“Don’t want them to see you. But hi.” He mutters, clearing his throat after pulling away.

“They know I’m here. Have you warmed up yet? Are the rest of them coming?”

“Not for a while. I think I’ll take a break–“

“You dyed your hair!”

He freezes as your hand goes up to touch it. His color changed from lavender to a deep, light red. “Yeah. Do you like it?”

“It looks really good on you.”

“Do you prefer this or the purple?”

“Honestly, you look good with any color.” You sit down on the ground, opening your backpack but pausing before going any further. “Can I do my homework? I have one question left and it’s super easy.”

“Go ahead.”

Jongseob can’t help but focus on you the whole time, when you take your papers and pencils out, when you read through the worksheet, when you begin to write, so concentrated in the moment. He finds himself staring, and you do too.

“All done.” You look up to see him returning your gaze, something there when your eyes meet. “What was so interesting about me and my schoolwork?”

“Huh?”

“You were staring at me.”

He flushes, shaking his head and denying immediately. “No! I wasn’t!”

“Come on, you can admit it. You think I’m pretty.”

“I–“

“I think you’re pretty.”

You cut him off, answering with no shame and an innocent smile on your face. He can’t help but think you mean more than you really do. “You do?”

“Oh, I do. Your hair, your face, your style. It all compliments so well. Take it from me, I’m an artist.”

He thinks to himself as you await his answer. “I think you’re pretty too.”

“Really?”

“Really pretty.”

You both have the same kind of war going on in your head. You wish the other really meant it, but something was holding you back from believing they did. To outsiders, you looked like two people in love. In your head, you were hoping he really meant what he was saying.

“I, um, hope you don’t mind if I stay in for practice. And I do want to talk to you before your members get here.” You try to divert the conversation with the atmosphere telling you closure was needed. “Yeah, we’re working on our comeback actually, so…” He holds out his pinkie.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone. Not a peep.”

You lock your own with his. “Promise.” You both giggle at the gesture as your fingers pull away. “I know this is gonna sound like a really stupid, cheesy question, but do you mean it?”

The way you start off catches his attention. “Do I mean what?”

“When you said I was pretty.”

He’s stunned, stuck in place as he stares at you while forgetting to answer. “I know we’re still young, but I’ve had my heart toyed with before. And all he did was laugh.” You scooted closer to him. “So what I’m asking is, ‘seob, do you really think I’m pretty? Or are you just being nice?”

“What answer are you hoping to hear?”

“That you do. That you mean everything you’ve ever said to me.”

He’s frozen, all he can do is stare into your eyes as you await a response. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I do mean it. You, Y/N, are one very pretty girl.”

“How many pretty girls do you see while out for work?”

“Many. None of them are as pretty as you.”

her first crush.

You know you’re the one that instigated this conversation, but still, you can’t help but blush at his response. “You’re all red.” He points out. “Do my words really mean that much to you?”

“All I wanted was closure.”

The door opens, Jongseob patting your head and joining the rest of the guys as if he didn’t just have you melting a few seconds ago.

You sat in the corner of the practice room, your face still hot, and your eyes focused on Jongseob the entire time.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

i want you to come visit but my mom isnt letting any visitors in the house

how come?

apparently we’re having a dinner party here in a few days or something? idk shes trying to keep it clean beforehand cuz my dad is finally coming back from his trip

he’s been overseas for how long??

a few months now, some promotion that he got resulted in him staying longer

oh wow

well you could come over to my dorm

actually?

i gotta ask the guys first

oh if u have to ask then its okay maybe next time

they said yes

i hear them cleaning up

what

are you coming or not

omw

You knock on their door, and when no one responds, you call Jongseob, and it suddenly opens to reveal sight of him holding the phone up to his ear.

“You have… a lot of stuff.” He points out, eyeing the large bag you’re carrying. “Are you sleeping over or something?”

“I actually… if it’s okay with you… wanted to do your makeup. I know you’ve been saying how much you want to try it and stuff and I figured we could do it if I saw you today but I forgot to ask–“

“Absolutely. Yes, please, come in, no one’s in my room. ‘Cause… I share a room, and, Jiung’s out and the rest are watching a movie.”

“I get it. I get your whole rooming thing. Am I gonna be in trouble for being here?”

“Not if you don’t get caught.”

“How mischievous of you. If you were to ever get into a scandal with me, would you care?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

You laugh it off as if your face wasn’t on fire, closing the door to his shared room.

“Ew, are they gonna make out in there?” Intak says in disgust with fake repulsion. “Just because Jongseob can get a girlfriend and you can’t is not a valid reason to be petty.” Keeho holds back his laugh. “Theo– you can’t say that! That is not funny!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“…watch the movie.”

Meanwhile, in Jongseob’s room, you finish off his base, tapping brushes against palettes before gently stroking the pigments against his face. His eyes, specifically. The medium shade brought out the orange in his hair, but really, you’ve been wanting to try out a specific look for a while.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why?”

“Makes me feel old.”

“You’re older than me.”

“I’m the same age as you. Now hush.”

He blows a raspberry as you do his eyeliner, a miracle it didn’t smudge or that you didn’t mess up in any way. It was almost adorable how eagerly he nodded when you showed him your container of extra rhinestones.

You hand him a mirror, putting your extra equipment away before finding a tube of lipstick. “Wow.” is all he says until he puts the mirror down and sees you putting on said lipstick. “Oh, you were actually gonna… do that part?”

“Oh, no. I was just swatching. It’s a pretty shade, don’t you think?” Your lips are painted with a vibrant shade of red, bold and eye-catching as you turned to face your friend who’s struggling to keep his jaw from hanging. “Yeah. Really… bright.”

“Well, you know my style. Bold and bright. I decided to… take a break for a change. And I took it out on you.”

“You call this a break? I look fabulous.”

“It’s the rhinestone effect. But yes, this is a break since I only do my face most of the time. And the colours are neutral, but defined. Makeup therapy for me is a total stress reliever, but obviously my face can’t handle powders daily. And… I really needed this, especially after this week.”

“Exams?”

“I took them already.”

“This early?”

“I’m taking AP classes since I don’t do cram school. My school is aware, and honestly, surprised at my career choice. Peer pressure is getting to me more than it should.”

“I hope you don’t feel guilty about this in any way. You’re so talented.”

“My only talent is this. Maybe I’ll work behind the scenes in the entertainment industry all my life. And… there’s something else I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

You exhale. “I got the job.”

“The job?”

“I’m your travelling makeup artist. I’ll be going with you for future tours and everything.”

He can’t stop his jaw from dropping now. “No way. You’re serious?” He asks, watching you nod eagerly as a big smile grows on his face, going in for a hug which you tightly return. “Y/N– that’s amazing! Does this mean I’ll get to see you every day?”

You nod. “It’s why I’m taking AP. Maybe I’ll switch next year, but I’m exempt from classes because of my success.”

“Wow, so privileged.”

“I’m just good at my job.”

You hear him chuckle, his eyes focused on you and that damn red lip. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” You stifle a laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s just hard to take you seriously with the makeup.”

“You’re the one that did it!”

“You’re never in my style, and it’s over the top!”

The door opens and you immediately pull away from Jongseob, taking out cleansing products after sorting everything else in your bag. Theo stands there, still, staring at your friend all glammed up.

“How do I look?” Jongseob asks with dramatic poses to show off his makeup, Theo taking out his phone and taking pictures of him silently. “You did this?” He asks you, pointing at the boy that had your heart racing. “Did I do good?”

“He looks great. You should come out and show the guys.”

“I don’t wanna watch the movie out there though.”

“You can go back in here and continue making out with Y/N or whatever it is that you were doing in here in the first place.”

“I was not– hey!” Theo’s dragging Jongseob out of the room by his wrist, unable to keep his grip on the doorframe as you hear him groan. You can all hear the guys gushing over Jongseob’s face from the room, poking jokes at him and teasing him.

“Is that lipstick? Did she kiss you?!”

“No, no, nothing like that! She was swatching and it must’ve smudged on me…”

“I thought you two were kissing when I walked in.”

“We hugged.”

“Sure.” One of them snarkily replies.

“I’m gonna tell you who dies if you don’t stop talking.” You hear Jongseob threaten, referring to the movie that was currently on pause in the living room.

“No!”

He silently comes back to the room, seeing you sitting there, cleansers still out as he shuts the door. “Is there really lipstick on me?” He asks, turning his head so you could see all angles of his face. “Oh, right there. How did I not notice that?” You get up with a makeup wipe, swiping it gently against the mark until is goes away.

It was only until you moved away that you noticed how close you were, and that he notice something missing. “You wiped off your lipstick already?”

“I told you I was swatching. I took photos.” ‘And I could see the way you looked at me.’ You thought. “I’d like to post them, but you’re an idol and all, so…”

“A shame, really. Do you wanna eat? Jiung got some takeout, and I don’t wanna take off your hard work for a little while.”

“Sure, but don’t expect me to take you seriously while you’re all glammed up.”

“You did this to me!”

“We are not having this conversation again.”

his first love, where he can’t imagine being with anybody else but you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Jongseob’s met a lot of pretty girls. As an idol, it’s only natural he has to work with them, be in the same premise as them. Yet he can never see anything more to them because they aren’t like you.

Your snarky replies, your teasing, your genuine questions and need for reassurance, your automatic response to rely on him, contact him whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed. Maybe it was because he’s spent so much time with you that he built this connection, but he learned that no one else could replicate this feeling he was so comfortable with.

This feeling that he only felt with you.

His members teased him mercilessly, especially on your first day on the job. You were assigned to him and specifically him (according to a colleague, he requested you), and every time anyone of his fellow group saw you working so close with him, they’d start laughing.

Jiung and Intak would take Jongseob’s phone from him if they were to ever find him on call with you. Keeho would give him those looks whenever he saw him smiling at his screen, and on his screen was you. Theo and Soul… they left him alone for the most part. They’d say hello and you guys would chat, but of course, Theo with his natural older brother energy, would occasionally tease him about it, usually through complaints.

“Jongseob, can you stop talking to your girlfriend and go to sleep? We have practice tomorrow.”

“Geez, you wanted her to swatch on you, didn’t you?”

“Watch where you’re going with that! I know you’re practically in love with her, but you should still pay attention to your surroundings!”

Soul simply encouraged the idea of you two together.

“She really likes you, I can tell.”

“Will you be out of the dorm more often when you two start dating?”

“You got her a ring? When is the wedding?”

And all Jongseob really wanted was to figure out if you really did like him or not. Because he felt like he could never experience such euphoria with anyone other than you.

He was only 18, why did he seem so sure about this? His mind was certainly older.

The door to the studio opens, and you enter, dropping your school bag onto the floor and looking absolutely spent.

“Are you okay?” He asks as you walk over, head in his chest. “Not even a hello?” You joke, looking up at him. “Tired. Long day. School’s a real pain in the ass when you have things to do outside of it. You’re lucky you’re busy enough that you don’t have to go.”

“Sometimes I wish I could. I’d enroll at your school and take all the classes with you so I’m not alone. Speaking of school, what happened to those girls who chased you?”

“Oh, them?” You laugh. “We’re cool now. One of them apologized to me. The rest followed. It took one longer than the rest to muster up the courage. They thought I hated them which is why they couldn’t talk about it in the first place, which is understandable.”

“Did you forgive them?”

“Not right away. I accepted their apology, but I’ll talk to tomorrow. It’s a little bit scary leaving work in fear of being chased and they kinda ignited that in me. I could never hate them, though. Maybe that’s a lie, but I guess when I thought I hated them, I was just afraid.”

“You’re so insightful it’s honestly attractive.” You look at him, amused. “Are you flirting with me, Jongseob?”

“Oh, I’m just being honest.”

“Sure. Your birthday just passed and your ego is suddenly through the roof.”

“Well, I am Kim Jongseob, so maybe my ego should’ve been through the roof a while ago.”

“Now you’re just sounding arrogant.”

“I’m just better.” You roll your eyes, looking at the computer in the corner of the room on the counter. “Can I change the music?” You ask, watching him walk over and open the right tab for you. You change the keyboard language to English, searching up a name so fast he doesn’t comprehend that the music already started. You walk away as he stays and reads the name off the screen.

Clementine – grentperez

He looks at you, who happened to already be waiting for him in the center of the room. He walks over, spinning you around and catching you, visibly surprised when the singing begins. “It’s in English?”

“Mhm.”

“Can you understand it?”

“A little bit. Otherwise, I like how it sounds. Can you understand it?”

“I’ve been getting better… at least I try to. It sounds good.”

“I should send you more of his works. I think you’d like those too.” You feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close enough into a hug. “Is this okay?” He feels you nod against his chest, your arms wrapping up and around his neck as the two of you simply sway to the music that filled the room.

To be in Jongseob’s arms, your best friend’s arms, like this was something you didn’t know you wanted to experience for as long as you could. This felt intimate, feeling closer with him like this more than any other hug you’ve shared.

You two probably looked like idiots to anyone that would walk in, but it was just the two of you, and all you could think about was how comfortable it was in each other’s arms.

There’s a spark. A spark that turns into a growing flame when your eyes meet. A flame that you wanted to keep ablaze but was on the edge of extinguishing. “You… you look really pretty.” He suddenly stutters, the flame growing a little bit more. “Thank you.”

“I really want to kiss you. Really, really bad.”

His abruptness catches you off guard, and it’s almost funny how the song began to near its climax.

“I’m sorry, was that too forward? Forget I said–“

“No one’s stopping you.”

It’s so cliche how the song reached its peak when his lips are on yours. You both were young, yet your minds were older. To kiss someone at such a moment for the first time in your life only made you fall in love with him even more, and really, you never thought you’d experience it so soon. With an idol, no less.

“Kim Jongseob!”

The sound of his name makes both of you pull away and look at the door, Intak, Jiung, and Theo standing there like they’ve seen a ghost. “What the hell are you doing?!” Intak exclaims, probably more aggressive than he meant to.

You both stand there, dumbfounded, and it wasn’t until you were back in your head that you both decide to separate from each other instantly. They looked angry. They probably didn’t feel that way, but in the moment, you felt humiliated. One second later, your face is hidden in his chest again, feeling his other hand on your back.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter against him, his hand patting your back reassuringly. “No, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“Don’t you feel the slightest bit embarrassed? Your friends just walked in on us kissing.”

“Oh, I do, absolutely. They’ll never let me hear the end of it.” You look up at him, and he’s smiling. “Then why don’t you seem that way?”

“Because I was kissing you.” Your heart beats faster than it ever has before when you’re with him. “You’re the only girl they’d want to see me kiss in the first place. Lucky for you, you’re the only girl I’ll ever wanna kiss in my whole life.”

“Since when did you get so romantic?”

“Since the day I met you in this very studio.”

Your worries suddenly melt away at his words, further assured he feels the same way you do.

“I really don’t mean to interrupt this very sentimental moment, but we have practice, so can you guys hurry it up a little bit?” Intak speaks up, appearing behind Jongseob out of nowhere. You pull away, going to get your things in the corner of the room, realizing he was following you. “You’re not gonna stay?” He asks, holding onto your hand.

“I have schoolwork to do, ‘Seob. And I need to talk to my coworkers at my part-time.” He pouts. “I know there’s so much more we need to talk about, but I’m eating into your practice time right now. I’ll call you, okay? We see each other tomorrow. Promise.” You squeeze his hand, feeling his other hand on top of yours.

“I thought you already quit that job.”

“They’re still my friends. I check in with them from time to time.” He sighs. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He kisses your forehead before letting you go.

Once you’re out of sight of the doorway, you can’t help but giggle and jump around out of pure excitement. You catch sight of Keeho and Soul in the hallway, greeting them briefly. “What’s got you so excited?” Keeho asks.

“He kissed me.” You watch his expression change to match yours, jumping around with you in the middle of the hallway. “No way! Are you serious?”

“The rest of them walked in on us…”

“I’ve literally been waiting for months for him to make a move and the one time I decide to leave later– ugh, I’m so happy for both of you!”

“And then he…” You point to your forehead. “He…” Keeho puckers his lips while you nod, the both of you proceeding to squeal almost too loud in the hallway. “Girl, please, you two are literally so freaking cute, you need to tell me more!”

“I really need to leave, I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay, we’ll see you tomorrow!”

You’re on your way to the convenience store, relieved to see both Mun-Hee and Shin-Il behind the counter, both of them equally shocked to see you there. “Y/N! I thought you were working.” Shin-Il says.

“I need to tell you guys something. Can I still come back here?”

“No. But you used to work here, so whatever.” An indirect invitation to come behind the counter given by Mun-Hee. “Judging from the look on your face, you either made progress with Jongseob or made out with Jongseob.” She adds.

“I kissed him, thank you very much.”

“Oh, shit.” She curses. “And he did it first?” You nod. “Damn, girl! He’s really down bad for you!”

“Is he your boyfriend now? He should be.” Shin-Il asks. “We didn’t have time to talk about it… he’s in a dance practice right now and I promised I’d call him.”

“Honey, no. This is the kind of thing you talk about in person. If he’s really dedicated and really loves you, he’d tell you. But with the amount of times you’ve breached health protocols with something to say about him, I think he really does love you in that way. But still, call him later. You promised.”

“You give all this advice as if you’ve ever been in an actual relationship.” Shin-Il jokes, resulting in a death glare from the most helpful former coworker in the moment. “Listen to her, not me.”

“Obviously.”

The welcoming bell chimes as someone enters, coming to the counter as quick as they came in. Mun-Hee looks in awe at the person as he stops at the counter, face lighting up. “We still on for tonight?” He hands her two 5000 won bills.

“Mhm.” She says in the most obvious lovesick tone, sliding the man’s items back towards him as she gives him his change. “I’ll see you later, Mun.”

You hold back a laugh at the nickname, glancing between her and the man as he leaves the store.“Who even is that guy?”

“They’ve been hooking up but then they actually started liking each other for more than the sex. Total K-drama material.”

“She did not need to know that!”

“If she can tell us about her love life, I can tell her about yours.”

“This is something entirely different! And what about you? Does she know that your little girlfriend calls you Shinnie now?”

You can’t hold back your laughter. “Pfft– Shinnie!? You guys are so corny!”

“Don’t you call your boyfriend ‘Seob’?” Shin-Il retorts. “Okay, but that’s just his name shortened. At least she didn’t add or double anything to it.” Mun-Hee reasons, receiving an eye roll from her coworker.

“I can’t believe we’re all in relationships now.” She adds. “I can’t believe you’re in a relationship! You’re so grouchy all the time, it’s hard to believe anyone would love that. You too, Y/N! You’re only 18 and you already kissed someone.”

“You still haven’t kissed anyone at your old age?!” You exclaim.

Mun-Hee sighs. “Can you tell it’s been rough without you here?”

“Definitely.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“So does my dad approve?”

You ask as Jongseob enters your bedroom, shutting the door gently before sitting across from you on your bed. “Of course he approved, I’m Kim Jongseob.”

Your dad had to go on another trip, which was prolonged, right after his first one due to a promotion offer that was promised if he continued to work efficiently overseas for a little longer. He got the promotion. He didn’t come back until mid-2021, and you didn’t tell him about your little relationship until today.

“I bet he’s pissed at me. I swore I meant to tell him, I just forgot.”

“He isn’t. He’s just… very surprised.”

“Understandable. I may or may not have rambled to him about you.”

“Did you say anything embarrassing?”

“No.”

“Then what did you say?”

“He asked me what I loved about you. It’s a long list.”

“We have time.”

He chuckles. “Okay, well, I said I love that you’re such a hard worker, and how devoted you are to anything that you do, how you never settle for less. How there’s a sparkle in your eye only I’m able to see when you get excited. How beautiful you are when you’re at your happiest, when you’re doing something that brings you comfort. Should I keep going?”

You’re too flustered to answer his question. “What did he say?”

“‘When’s the wedding?’”

You hit him playfully, hiding your face in the side of his arm, embarrassed that your face was so warm from something so simple. “You really noticed all of those little things?”

“Of course I did, you’re my girlfriend.”

You wanted to kiss him so bad in that moment, being interrupted by your mom barging in the room. She simply stares at both of you. “You’re nearly 19, I expect you to know what we don’t wanna hear in this house.” She closes the door, Jongseob getting up to lock it this time.

“My mom’s gonna get so suspicious next time she tries to open the door.”

“Valid. But we know our boundaries, don’t we?”

You fulfill what you imagined in your head, kissing him briefly and pulling away when you feel his hand tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Wanna know something?” He mutters.

“What?”

“I don’t think I could ever love someone else the same way I love you.”

“Is that so?”

“Honey, I admire you. You’re amazing.”

“Speak for yourself, mister. So talented and famous for it. I think we’ve been keeping these words bottled up for years when we were just friends.”

“Mhm. There’s so much more I wanna say.”

“We have time.”

“It’ll take all week.”