#sorry if this is a bit sketchy- that's all i was really up for when i made this lol. i think it's cute and that's goof enough | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

star-sim · 3 months

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hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait!) ☆ jake sim

☆ youtuber! super down bad! bf! jake x youtuber! fem! reader ☆summary: jake sim was youtube's cut-throat, horror creator, known for his dark video style. meanwhile, you were the cutesy beauty vlogger, lighting up every algorithmically generated home page you touched. no one would have expected you two vastly different people to know each other, let alone be in a long-term relationship. ☆ genre: fluff, youtuber! au, secret dating! au, established relationship, suggestive, im sorry im never letting the ytber au go, cutesy!reader, jake is SO down bad its kinda painful #patheticmen ☆warning(s): no, just fluffy, also reader is really feminine and girly in this ☆ word count: 13.4k words ☆ wrote half of this in spanish class so im sorry if there are mistakes, first time writing established relationship in full, kinda nervy

Jake Sim was many things.

One of the most popular and well-respected content creators on Youtube was one of them.

As Jake's nimble fingers darted across his keyboard, his other hand rested firmly on his mouth, he thought that the blue light emitting from his computer screen should burn his eyes. Except, it didn't. Despite what most people thought, 90% of being Youtuber was just simply staring at a computer screen, rather than being in front of a camera lens. The man felt his nose prickle before he let out a soundless, but satisfying, yawn. He leaned back against his office chair, stretching his neck and arms before he rubbed his eyes.

There was a reason that he was an extremely respected creator on Youtube.

For one, the production quality of his videos were high. Down to the Closed Captions or his camera's grain, Jake's attention to detail was immaculate. Not to mention, the content itself was magnificent.

Whenever people asked Jake what he did for work, it was hard for him to answer.

He'd said that he made horror content, but he'd only earned incredulous looks, like he was a madman. Even then, "horror" content wasn't the correct description.

In short, Jake liked to make videos about obscure things. Which just so happened to be a little spooky. Sketchy true crime cases, searches for lost media, strange Internet phenomena, government cover-ups— Name anything a little bit eerie and Jake probably already covered something of that sort on his channel. Given the nature of his content, Jake almost always maintained a serious tone, but when the opportunity came to offer his opinion, he liked to relay it in a straightforward way.

Another reason why he was so regarded was because of his content style. He preferred using darker colors, having a crisp microphone that picked up every rasp of his deeper voice. When he had camera shots, Jake liked to be in a dimly lit room. Unfortunately, his room was dark, too.

This all combined together to create a singular image for Jake: the cool, high-quality, but a little bit scary, guy that likes to make videos about scary topics.

Now cracking his knuckles, Jake sucked in a sharp breath. Although he could easily export his upcoming video now and upload it, garnering millions of views, he refused to. There was something missing from it; it needed a little umph, a little embellishment to really pull things together. If there was one thing about Jake, it was that he'd put quality over quantity any day.

Jake is torn out of his thoughts when his phone, long forgotten next to his mouse, lit up. Usually, when he worked long afternoons like this, he silenced his phones in order to maintain focus.

However, there was always one exception.

You.

pretty girl: hi babe, do you think you can help me take promo pictures later?

The moment that Jake saw your contact show up, he picked up his phone immediately. His fingers tapped his screen, quickly responding to you.

me: yeah i can do it rn if you want

pretty girl: if youre busy, it doesn't need to be today, it can be tomorrow or something

pretty girl: oh

pretty girl: are you sure?

Of course he was.

Jake was already shutting off his monitor, grabbing his keys and shoving his feet into his shoes at your first message.

me: yeah i'll come over right now

You were Jake Sim's girlfriend. But other than the people in your personal life, no one else knew that.

Not that either of you minded.

Like Jake, you were a Youtuber. Except, your community was the complete opposite from his.

Your niche was cute makeup and lifestyle. Your videos had cute, blushy sets, characterized by cute plushies in the background and pretty, pink decorations. When you weren't making makeup tutorials or "get ready with me's," you were giving your viewers small sneak-peeks into your life. Whether it be your rosy morning skincare, or your sunny afternoon cooking attempts, or your illuminated late night thoughts, your content was light-hearted, soft, and personable.

And if you weren't doing any of those things, you were modeling.

You were a beauty influencer, so you had sponsors from different makeup companies and such. What was most distinguishable from your personal brand was that you were one of Sanrio's biggest ambassadors. If there was someone that was the living embodiment of Hello Kitty, it was you.

Your personability, and your ability to feel authentic to your viewers, was a key factor in your large viewerbase. And what contributed to that the most was the fact that you had no idea how to use a camera. One would think that a content creator would know how to use a camera, but you were somehow the exception.

Not a problem!

Because you had your boyfriend, Jake!

Who was basically the master of content creation and film, in your opinion.

"Jakey!" you pounced on your boyfriend the moment he appeared at your apartment doorway. You threw your arms around his neck, immediately peppering his neck and cheeks with kisses. You heard him let out a few chuckles, feeling the rumble of his strong chest as he did.

"Geez, babe, let me take my shoes off first," Jake teased you, taking in your sweet strawberry perfume. You immediately peeled yourself off of him, your lips forming a cute frown.

"Shut up," you murmured, punching him on the arm while you jutted your bottom lip out. The lip tint and gloss on them shined, which made Jake grin. And when you noticed that he was staring at your lips, you gave him a gentle shove before saying again, “Shut up, Jakey.”

There it was, his favorite thing about you.

You were so, very, really, undeniably, mean to him.

Okay, that sounded weird.

But it was the truth.

Your relationship could be summed up in a few words—

You were just the cutest, and could barely contain your feelings for Jake, so you'd get all cuddly and affectionate with him. He'd tease you about it, so you'd get all shy and flustered, and you would begin to be mean to him. You'd call him stupid or annoying, and you'd tell him to go away but make no effort to resist his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And then he would get to tease you more, until you were so embarrassed that you relented and let him kiss you.

How could he not resist teasing you?

You were always so pretty, with makeup or not, and it was easy to tease you since you got embarrassed so easily.

Even if he was holding his most expensive camera in his hands, he'd still let you pounce on him, if it meant that he got one extra kiss from you.

You led him to your bedroom. It had the same sweet, strawberry scent as you. Your room was pink, and along the walls were shelves, all filled with the many, many plushies that Jake bought you. Plopping onto your bed, Jake watched as you dug around your filming desk.

"Sooo," he started, "You're gonna do a promotional post on Instagram?"

You hummed. Sanrio recently launched a new line of lip tints, and they sent you their newest ones to review and promote.

"I already made a review, and it's going to go up later," you said, digging through your drawers. "I want to make a promo post, too, y'know?"

You let out an 'a-ha!' as you found what you were looking for. It was a tube of lip-tint, the newest one from the collection. You then touched up your makeup a little more.

Jake watched you in awe. The way you applied lip gloss and brushed setting powder (or was it blush? he didn't know anything about makeup) onto your cheeks was so mesmerizing, as you weren't already so captivating to him.

Finally, you stood up, straightening out your outfit. You puckered your lips, and when you noticed Jake staring at you, you gave him a little twirl.

"How do I look?" you asked.

Jake, with his camera in hand, pointed the lens at you. He looked through the viewfinder.

"Beautiful."

As always.

The shoot went smoothly. As you always did when Jake was your photographer, the two of you drove to the film studio, renting out a room for a good hour. Jake was a pro with the camera and you were an even bigger pro at modeling. Other than a few compositional edits or changes in exposure, you and Jake were done as soon as you started. The two of you decided that you’d go back to your place, cook dinner together, and maybe watch a movie.

Except that got delayed.

“Y-You’re so annoying, Jake,” you struggled out. You were in the back seat of your car, legs thrown over your boyfriend’s hips, his soft lips connected to your neck. Your fingers gently tugged on his hair, you yourself pressing soft pecks against his forehead and temples. It started because you gave Jake a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you,’ which spiraled into a makeout session in your car.

“What,” he breathed against your skin, dark eyes flickering up to yours. “You said you’d do anything to express your thanks for me.”

Jake kissed your neck again, before trailing up your throat to your jaw. Your fingers raked through his soft hair, pushing his dark locks out of his face so that you could see his face clearly. Jake reached up, took your hand out of his hair, and instead held your palm against his cheek, nuzzling into your warm hand. The way your eyes widened into saucers, lips parting, in response made the man’s lips curve upward.

“W-Well I thought you’d ask me to hug you… or something,” you said sheepishly, your voice soft as your boyfriend’s actions flustered you.

Jake grinned to himself internally before pulling away from you altogether.

“Then do you want to stop?” Your eyes widened a fraction. “Then, let’s go hom—“

“No!” you cut him off, your hands squeezing his shoulders. “Let’s not!”

You stared at him, brows furrowed, for a few moments, before you noticed the growing grin on your boyfriend’s face. That look you knew too well, the one that said that he was going to tease the everlasting fuck out of you.

Jake pulled you in by the waist, close enough so that your chests touched, noses almost brushing against each other. He could feel the heat radiating off your face, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“You sure you don’t wanna stop?” His voice was teasing, but you knew better. The earnest look in his eyes, you stared into yours, was filled with sincerity. He gave your waist a squeeze, almost as if to ask, “Do you actually want this?”

“Yes, Jakey,” you breathed against his lips, matter-of-factly. “I don’t wanna stop.”

The corner of his lips begin to lift.

“So you better kiss me,” you quipped, gripping his shoulders.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he rasped back, before attacking your lips.

(Later, when you were done, you two went home and went about your plan for the night. Except, you had to yell at Jake to go wash his face, because the sight of your lipstick at the corner of his lips was too much for you to take.)

"Hi, everyone!" you greeted the camera, folding your hands in your lap. With your thick, pink, knit sweater's sleeves falling over your wrists, you shot the lens a pretty smile. It was another normal day on the job of making content.

"As you guys know, VidCon is coming up soon." You pulled your makeup pouch toward your chest, leaning against the edge of your filming desk. "So, let's pack with me!"

Vidcon was an event for people to meet all of their favorite Youtubers. This year, you were invited to be one of the featured creators, given your popularity. As you filmed your "Pack with Me!" vlog, surrounded by ring lights aided by your windows cracked open, you recalled the email you had sent earlier, squeezing your eyes shut.

You see, Jake and you were both invited to VidCon. Since no one else, not even Youtube the corporation or your fellow Youtubers, knew that you guys were dating, Jake and you were given vastly different things. Youtube booked an entire hotel complex for all of its creators, and unfortunately, your room was located 10 floors below Jake's room. And worse, your booths and events were so far apart from each other that you probably wouldn't even see your boyfriend even if he decided to traverse the Convention.

That's what you got for being vastly different content creators.

This year would be the first year that you and Jake got invited to VidCon, and you two wanted to share this experience with each other as much as possible.

Which is why you just shot Youtube one of the most embarrassing emails of your life.

"Hi, Youtube. The hotel complex you booked has a bar, and it is much closer to the top than the bottom. I really want to visit that bar. Can I request a room change so that my room is maybe on the 15th or 16th floors?" except add more formalities and much more discreet language, and that was the email you sent to your employers. You knew that it wouldn't be hard, and that the Youtube PR manager wouldn't reject your request. After all, you were the Sanrio beauty girl. Regardless, you'd gotten a response about an hour ago, and your request was approved, luckily.

As you continued talking to your camera, folding your clothes neatly while chatting to your viewers about updates in your life, you thought about what you and Jake should do at VidCon. It was in the LA area, but you definitely wanted to visit other places in Southern California.

It was no surprise that you and Jake had been more than touchy and close to each other. You were dating. Still, butterflies formed in your stomach as you thought about what you would do with him. Your face heated up at the thought of you and him spending time together in the hotel's rooftop hot-tub. The idea of him sneaking in your room at night, warming you up and pepperinging your cheeks with kisses, made your heart rate speed up, and you could only relish in the thought of exploring LA, Irvine, or wherever Jake wanted to take you with him.

You were a grown woman with a job and responsibilities, but the mere thought of your boyfriend being within the same vicinity as you made you nervous.

Just as you finished folding your clothes, you heard your front door crack open.

"Babe?" you hear Jake's voice call out your name. You turn off your camera to greet him, swearing to forget all of the thoughts you just had. Except, the moment that you locked eyes with him, all determination to not be teased left your body. Your lips wobbled, trying to bite back that stupid, bashful, and lovesick smile that made its way onto your face when you thought about Jake, but your eyes gave it all away. Instead of throwing yourself at him like you usually did, you only reached for the hem of his black T-shirt, playing with it sheepishly.

You mumbled a small, "Hi."

You could feel Jake staring at you, and you could hear the way his lips curve into a smug, shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," you told him, your eyebrows crashing together.

"Baby, I didn't even say anything," Jake said, his hands finding their place on your lower back.

You felt shy and exposed before him. "Well, I know you're going to say something."

Jake grasped your chin, gently making you look at him. You tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible to avoid those dreamy, caramel eyes. Then, he took your face with both his hands, leaning in.

Was he going to kiss you? Oh my god, he was! Quick! What do you do? You felt like you were going to melt.

Instinctively, your hands tightened on the hem of his shirt, the black fabric scrunching in your fists. You closed your eyes, your lips softly puckering. You could feel him coming closer and closer, until his breath fanned your cheek.

As if he hadn't kissed you a million times before, your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest.

Jake ghosted his lips over yours, inching just close enough that he could brush his lip against yours.

And then, he pulled away from you. He took off his shoes, placed down his keys, and made his way into your bedroom, leaving you there standing alone.

Heat spread across your face and neck and ears as you realized your boyfriend had just teased you once again. You hid your face in your palms, letting out a small whine of embarrassment, before recollecting yourself and joining your boyfriend.

"Woah, what's going on here, babe?" Jake asked, standing at your bedroom doorway.

"Oh." There was clothes and film equipment sprawled across your floor and bed. "I was filming a video."

You saw Jake's expression twitch, before he took your hands in his.

"My bad, was I interrupting something?" He was sincere in how his face showed a small drop of guilt for disrupting your filming. How could someone be such a tease one moment yet be so genuine the next?

"No, it's okay, Jakey," you said. "I mean, I need to finish my video, but I don't mind if you're around."

And that's how you found yourself trying not to burst out laughing as you filmed your video. Jake kept making funny faces at you, that goofy grin growing on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"Jake, stop making faces!" you laughed, throwing a shirt at him.

He dodged it, throwing his head back into one of the plushies that he bought you. "I'm not doing anything!"

You threw another shirt at him, this time hitting him square in the face. Instead of admitting defeat, Jake only grabbed your shirt, pulling the fabric to his nose and taking a long, dramatic, sniff.

"You smell sooooo good, babe," he said, ignoring your contorted expression, "I think I'm gonna keep this. You won't mind, right?"

"Ugh, Jaaaaakee!"

You plopped on top of him in bed. You felt his chest rumble as chuckles left his lips, rolling your eyes at him. You gave his chest a smack, a pout forming on your lips.

"You're so annoying," you mumbled as his hands slithered up to your hips. He gave your ass a pat, gesturing you to adjust your position. You did, sitting up so that you straddled your boyfriend's hips.

"And you're so pretty," he said, squeezing your hipbone.

"Let go of me," you poked him in the chest, but made no attempt to get off of him.

"No."

"I need to finish my video," you pouted, still not moving to get off of him.

"I don't care." Jake instead sat up on his elbows, his hands sliding down to your lower back, his face getting suspiciously close to your boobs. "Just lay with me."

Your fingers ran through his dark locks, before giving them a tug towards your chest. Jake laid his cheek against your boobs like they were pillows, arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and neck. The next thing you knew, he was pressing sticky kisses against your chest and neck, soft gasps escaping your lips.

"Sorry, babe," he muttered against the shell of your ear, "I just can't resist you."

You let out a soft "ahhh!" when he bit down on your skin, his teeth brushing against the nape of your neck. Jake briefly pulled away, a smirk making its way onto his face as he admired the red-purple mark on your neck.

"You're just too addicting."

Long story short, your video was still finished and uploaded. As Jake edited his video, he let yours play in the background, your bright voice illuminating his dark room. Somehow, your voice was the only thing that made him focus.

However, when he heard a familiar laugh— his laugh— in your video, Jake stopped in his tracks.

His mind flashed back to what happened the other day in your apartment, when he interrupted you during your filming.

"I don't know if I turned off my camera, Jake," you had purred as Jake's tongue dipped into your collarbone. At that point, both you and him were shirtless, hair disheveled and pupils blown out with desire. Jake remembered the electricity that ran through him as those words left your lips.

"Am I supposed to care?" he had muttered, trailing kisses down your chest. "If they hear us, that's not my problem."

It was almost like you, who edited your video, added that clip to tease him.

Immediately, his cheeks began turning the brightest shade of red possible. If you were here, he would have only coughed and looked away shyly, but since he was alone, his embarrassment spread across his face like a wildfire. Jake almost never showed it when he was flustered, at least when he was around you.

He hid his face in his palms, sucking in a sharp breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, warmth prickling his skin. You were going to be the death of him. He let out a small, lovesick giggle, one that his friends would flame him for. He couldn't help it, not if it was you.

When he read the comments, still flustered out of his mind, he felt a twinge of disappointment when no one seemed to notice him.

For some reason, Jake couldn’t help but want people to know that you were his. He knew that you and him kept your relationship private to preserve it, but he still wanted to show you off.

Except, one comment caught his eye.

“Wait, does [Name] have a boyfriend? Who laughed at 6:34?” it read. Jake’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. The warmth that spread across his chest as his lips pulled upwards. He almost wanted to jump on his bed and roll around while giggling like a schoolgirl, but he contained himself.

At the corner of his eye, Jake spotted a certain plushie.

As you were a partner of Sanrio, for a time there was a Limited Edition [Name] plushie, clad in pink with a cute, ruffle-lace bow to top it all off. Of course he bought one the moment it launched. Jake preferred his room to be completely dark and black, but he liked to keep that plushie on his bed, and although he’d never admit it, he hugged it when he slept if you weren’t with him.

Would it be wrong of him to tease you back? After all, Jake still had to film the brand deal for his new video.

Would it hurt to position the plushie just enough so that it was in frame?

So that maybe someone would see it.

Vidcon came crashing on you and Jake like a meteor, and before the two of you knew it, you were in the venue, wringing your fingers as the event commenced.

Sometimes, it was difficult for you to comprehend the level of your popularity. Sure, the numbers that Youtube loved to display for you told you that you had millions watching you, but mere numerical figures were simply not enough for you to wrap your mind around.

Your schedule that day was simple: you were going to have a booth that you'd tend to for an hour or two, where your fans could take pictures with you and take a few freebies with them. Then, you'd go to your main event, which was in a smaller venue.

At your booth, where you sat currently, your personal table was set up in a very special way: your table was pink, and covered in a lacy, white tablecloth. Even the wall behind you was specifically painted pink and decorated with various Sanrio-esque decorations. You had stickers that you'd give out, as well as a Limited Edition Vidcon Sanrio plushie of you that people could buy. The pink polaroid decorated with Hello Kitty stickers hung around your neck with a pink lanyard. You genuinely looked like Sanrio and Hello Kitty vomited all over you, but you didn't mind. And plus, that didn't matter, because you were cute either way.

You were hit with pure surprise as multiple groups of fans came your way. The amount of people that came to you, rambling nervously about how much they loved you, how much they looked up to you, how much you inspired them and made their days better, made you feel light-headed. And very warm inside.

Jake was the one that did the talking for you (thank goodness!), but for some reason, you pushed through your usual shyness, instead wanting for people to come up to you and talk.

Your face lit up as one of your fans, a girl that looked around your age, maybe only a few years younger than you, approached you. You could tell by the Sanrio sticker of you on her phone case that she was most definitely here for you.

"Oh my gosh, hi [Name]!" She gazed at you with wide, glimmering eyes.

Your initial reaction was surprise, but then you broke out into a smile. You cocked your head, fingers gripping the hem of your dress, both nervous and excited. "Hi, there."

You fan took one look at your face, and squealed. The way that she giggled, bouncing on her feet as she fangirled over you made warmth spread across your cheeks, getting shy and looking down briefly.

"I'm sorry, [Name]!" Your fan couldn't stop giggling, which you thought was very cute. It was now that you noticed the camera in your hand. "I just really love your content, and I'm just so excited to meet you in real life!"

You blinked at her a few times, before you smile only widened.

"Don't worry about it!" you said, taking her free hand in yours. Your shyness melted away as your fan squealed again. "It really means a lot to me that you came out here to personally see me."

Your eyes flickered over to her camera, squeezing her hand and motioning to it with your other. "Can I...?"

She nodded enthusiastically, so you took her camera. Turn on the 'photo' setting, you posed for the camera, taking multiple pictures of yourself for her. You hoped that that would make up for your shyness. The two of you hugged, and you took many polaroids for her.

Almost immediately, after she left, you were tagged in a Twitter thread. It was that fan, reporting her experience with you.

"She was so much prettier in real life, I thought I was in heaven," her tweets detailed, "And [Name] was so sweet! It felt like I was meeting the real life Hello Kitty."

She posted the pictures you took on her camera, and then the videos. You couldn't help but grin like an idiot, especially at the comments (and the rapidly-accumulating likes and retweets).

"The way [Name] gets so shy is so cute!"

"I don't really watch beauty content but I love [Name] so much."

"She's like an actual Disney Princess."

You loved your fans, you really did. You were grateful for them, and you thought they were very cute.

You were excited to see how Vidcon would treat you.

Jake was fighting.

He was fighting demons, wars, the little voices in his head.

Did you have to look so pretty today?

Jake's own event was an entire venue away from yours. He had a few events, so after his first one, he took a small break, where he looked through his notifications.

Of course, the first thing he looked at was your texts. They were from a while ago, during his show when he didn't have his phone on him, so he responded to them now. He smiled at your cute texts, expressing how excited and happy you were. His heart jumped out of his chest when he saw the selfie you sent him: there you were, in all your cutesy Sanrio glory, smiling so prettily for him. Jake had to clasp his face to hide the stupid, love-struck grin that bled onto his face.

"Oi, what're you giggling about?" Jake was interrupted by Jay, another one of his fellow horror Youtubers.

Jake immediately wiped his expression clean. "Nothing."

When he glanced back at his phone, that dumb grin began to form again.

Jay groaned. "This is so weird. It's like watching Batman smile."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake scoffed.

"I'm sayin' that you're basically Youtube's Batman," Jay scrunched his nose, "And it's weird seein' you all... smiley and stuff."

"I literally smiled earlier!"

"Not in the way that you did just now. I have a bad feeling about it."

"Shut up!"

Jake really tried his best to swallow back his pure admiration for you as he opened his phone screen again, but he failed miserably.

He wished he could see you right now. He loved to see his fans, he loved to talk to them about their shared interest: all things horror and obscure.

But Jake missed you right now.

His heart plummeted to his stomach, however, when he logged onto Twitter, and saw the worst hashtag he could ever think of: #[Name]isSoCute.

He agreed with it. No, he embraced that sentiment with every molecule in his being.

Just... he wished that he could see you right now. When he checked the tag and saw all the cute pictures that people took of you and the sweet experiences they had with you, he frowned— That should be him!

However, Jake actually saw the worst thing to ever materialize when he saw the top video under the tag.

It was a shaky video, starting off with a teenage boy walking up to you. In the background, he could hear your pretty voice in the background, exchanging small greetings and words with the poster. Jake was almost lost in his sheer love for you when his eyes narrowed. The boy in the video let out a little chuckle, before dropping a cheesy pick-up line on you.

"[Name], if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber." What made it worse was that you only giggled, leading the boy to drop a few other dumb pick-up lines. The camera panned up to you, showing you all smiley and bashful. Then, you and the boy hugged, before taking a few polaroids together.

Jake almost snapped his phone in half.

He understood better than anyone that you were a content creator just like him. It was part of the job to interact with fans, and given your character, of course you were sweet to them. He could tell that you were perfectly comfortable in the video, and that the kid probably was just joking around with his favorite Youtuber.

But did that stop Jake from mentally lambasting every single aspect of the video? Absolutely not.

Shaky camera, probably filmed on a phone, Jake's hands balled into fists, Fucked up aperture, exposure to low, bad mic.

Was he being a little immature? Yes, and Jake knew that.

Though, Jake would admit that he agreed with a lot of comments and retweets under that post, hearting many of them in agreement.

"[Name] is such a cutie!" one read.

Absolutely.

"I love her so much," another read.

Me too, Jake thought.

"I want her so bad."

Just as Jake's finger hovered over the 'heart' button, he let out a small hmph. Did it annoy him that other people wanted you? Yes. But did he disagree with the comment? Nope. He pressed the "like" button.

He wanted to see you so bad. As Jake was queued up on stage, ready for his second event, he hoped that he could see you soon.

And his wish came true a few hours later.

It was now past noon, and Vidcon was in its (unofficial) intermission period, where a lot of the creators were now taking breaks. As Jake traversed the convention, he texted you trying to find a spot where the two of you could meet.

He passed the many booths and venues of his fellow Youtubers. The layout was unique in the way that Youtubers of similar genres were placed in similar areas. So when he started seeing Youtubers with bright makeup and problematic pasts, Jake knew that he was near you.

And lo and behold, soon he found you. Under the fluorescent light, you still glowed. There was some kind of halo around you as you turned over your shoulder, your face instantly brightening up as you spotted your boyfriend. You had a few fans that you were talking to at the moment, so you tended to them first, while Jake made his way over to you.

You and Jake agreed that you wouldn't make your relationship too obvious at Vidcon, but all of that was left forgotten the moment that Jake saw you.

However, as you ran up to him, people couldn't help but stop and stare.

Why wouldn't they? You were the living embodiment of Sanrio, that one Hello Kitty girl, whereas Jake was that one guy that made scary content and was often shrouded in darkness, dubbed as Youtube's personal Batman. Absolutely no one would have expected to see the two of you interacting with one another, let alone be within the same vicinity.

"Hi, Jakey," you smiled up at him, and Jake thought that he could die right there. With the amount of people staring, Jake had to restrain himself from throwing his arms around you and hugging you.

"Hey, baby," he grinned.

Before either of you could do anything, you and Jake were interrupted by a shrill squeal. You whipped your heads around to see a young girl and her older brother, who still looked relatively young. They explained nervously that the girl liked your content, while the brother liked Jake's content. They were expecting to scour in order for each of them to meet either of you, but were surprised to see you and Jake in one place.

You and Jake took a few pictures with them, both individually. Though, the two of them requested a picture with both you and Jake in the same frame, which you happily did.

When they left, you and Jake shared a look, before going off together.

Vidcon Day 1: Over.

Jake returned to his hotel room, too tired to do anything other than wash up and order room service.

As Jake laid in his half-hard hotel mattress, he scrolled through his phone. He was tagged in a lot of pictures and tweets, and he found himself grinning at a lot of the sweet words his fans left. Although he was tired, he could definitely do this a few more times, feeling invigorated by his fans.

As he scrolled, the trending Twitter hashtag caught his eye.

#HelloKittyMeetsBatman.

Interesting name, he thought as he clicked on it.

Jake's heart skipped a beat as he saw what came up.

Apparently, people were extremely surprised to see you and Jake so close to each other.

There were so many pictures of you and him taken together from afar just from that one instance earlier, from multiple different angles and distances. Jake would admit, the way he was dressed in all black while you were dressed in cute pinks and whites was almost laughable.

What truly caught his attention were the captions of all these pictures.

"Craziest crossover of 2024."

"I'm crying they legitimately look like Hello Kitty and Batman."

"Jake Sim and [Name] interacting was not on my Vidcon 2024 bingo card."

"This is like seeing two worlds collide, absolutely wild but I'm pleasantly surprised."

For the most part, it seemed like everyone just thought that you and Jake were friends, but it was still a little funny how taken aback the entire internet was.

Then, he saw the picture of you, him, and those two kids together.

"They look like a family," was one of the most popular retweets under that post.

Family.

That word rang through Jake's head, before he buried his face in one of the pillows, giggling to himself. He felt a little ridiculous getting so excited over such a small comment, but he couldn't help it. He felt so giddy inside at the thought of having a family with you, and felt even giddier knowing that people could see it, too.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Jake wasn't going to answer it, too caught up in his flustered-ness, but when he realized that it was you, he quickly cleared his throat, instinctively straightening out his hair (because what if he accidentally turns on his camera?-- he needed to look good for you!).

"Baby," he greeted suavely, as if he wasn't just giggling like a schoolgirl seconds ago.

Maybe it was the fact that it was already getting late, or the fact that Jake barely saw you today, or the fact that you were just so goddamn perfect, but your voice sounded so attractive in that moment.

"Jakeyyy," you whined. "Come over."

His chest was already throbbing but Jake played it cool.

He chuckled. "What for?"

"I miss you," he could hear the pout in your voice. "And I want your attention."

It was rare for you to be so direct with him, and while Jake wanted to melt on the spot, he wanted to tease you a bit longer.

"What's wrong with just being on the phone with me?" Jake's lips pulled into a smirk. "You can just talk to me like this."

"Noooo," you said. "I want— I want you."

Jake tried his best to not crumble then and there, but it was too hard.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Okay then, baby. I'll come over right now."

He didn't miss the cute little "yay!" you let out before you hung up.

You were going to be the death of him.

"Eep! Jake, what are you doing here—?!”

You’re cut off when you realized that you were, in fact, backstage of one of your events. Today was the second day of Vidcon, and you had just finished up your first event. As you went backstage, carrying the little bags of gifts that your fans got you, you didn’t expect your own boyfriend to be waiting back there for you.

“Hey there, Princess,” he said cheekily, sprawled across the backstage couch. "Miss me?"

He opened his arms up, and you instinctively crawled into them, sitting on his lap and sliding your arms around his neck.

As you did, you eyed him up and down.

Clad in black as always, he wore a black button-up, paired with black slacks, a black belt, and a loose, black tie. That's right: today, Jake was going to have a panel with a whole bunch of other horror creators, ones that transcended the internet— authors, authors that Jake spent his whole life reading and looking up to, which explained why he was dressed significantly more proper today than yesterday.

The way his shirt fit his chest and hugged his shoulders made it hard for you to not stare, and the way that it wasn't buttoned at the top, revealing his honey-tan collarbones, mixed with the scent of his rich cologne, made you feel dizzy.

"Ay, are you checkin' me out?"

On any other day, you'd be embarrassed, maybe even pushing him away, but today, you only nodded your head, humming mindlessly in agreement.

Jake blinked at you, before he pulled you in by the waist so that you were flushed against his chest completely.

"Kiss me," you mumbled, pushing his dark bangs away from his face.

Jake chuckled, rubbing your cheek with his knuckles. "What's with you these days? Getting so bold."

You only leaned into his touch. Maybe it was sometime in the LA air, or maybe it was the vigor that your fans gave you earlier, but all you could do was look at your boyfriend with glossy, wide eyes innocently, watching the way that his resolve trembled.

"Shit," Jake cursed under his breath. "Hold on—"

He grabbed your hips, then tilted your chin so that he could have a better angle. Your lips crashed into one another. Not in the way that a meteor would crash into Earth's delicate atmosphere, but in the way that gentle sea waves crashed onto themselves, dark folds of blue creasing over each other, only to brush up against the foamy seashore, none the wiser.

Jake liked the taste of your lip gloss; it tasted sweet, but not nearly as sweet as you, hungrily squeezing your hips in his hands. He swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, earning a squeal from you, who tugged on his hair.

When you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, chests heaving not for air, but for each other. You stared at each other for a few moments, losing time in each other's eyes, when your eyes trailed down.

God, the button-up and tie were going to drive you crazy.

Without thought, your fingers twirled around his tie, slinking up his chest before you yanked him harshly, jerking Jake toward you abruptly.

In a moment of pure, unadulterated boldness, you attacked his neck, laying sticky kisses all across his skin. One hand laced itself in Jake's hair, keeping a firm hold of his tilted head, while your other hand crept around the buttons of his shirt.

Each soft sigh that Jake let out made you only press more kisses on him. When he let out one particularly loud whine, his arm jerking up to grab at the couch's armrest, you knew that you found the sensitive spot on his neck. You pressed another kiss on that spot, this time sinking your teeth into his skin. The hickey was dark and purple, and when you ran your tongue over it, Jake's hands shot to your hips again.

"Shit, [Name], wait a sec—"

Skillfully, your fingers began to slowly unbutton Jake's shirt, just enough that you could see more of his chest.

Your head was feeling fuzzy now, drunk off your desire for him. The way he threw his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing with each gulp of air he took in, curses falling from his lips, sent electricity coursing through your body.

When you unbuttoned the last button, you noticed the way Jake's eyes were squeezed shut, his other arm resting over them, hands balled into fists as his desperation for you increased.

"Jakey," you said. Jake was going to go mad, the way your voice was so soft and innocent as it said his name, all the while you were kissing and touching him in ways that made him go light-headed. He squeezed his eyes shut, another whimper escaping his lips. If he looked you in the eye right now, he was sure that he'd burst. "I want you to look at me."

He couldn't refuse you. Immediately, he opened his eyes, the arm strewn over his face dropping back to its position on your hips.

If he didn't die by combustion, Jake was certain that he'd die now— Your pupils were blown out, eyes lidded and staring at him like he was your prey to be slaughtered. He'd seen you wrought with desire so many times before, but the way you gazed at him like he was a piece of meat, like you were going to absolutely ruin him, made him feel weak.

"Watch me, Jakey," your voice sounded so sweet, but your actions said otherwise. You abruptly got up from your seat on his lap, Jake frowning at the loss of your touch. You dug through your purse thrown across the room, returning with a tube of lipstick.

You plopped back onto Jake's lap, making sure that he was watching as you applied it to your pretty, swollen lips.

Then, you discarded it, throwing your lipstick to the side as you snatched his tie again. You brought the black fabric to your lips, staring your boyfriend down as you pressed kisses on his tie. You kissed it a few times, making sure that the color of your lipstick, as well as the shape of your lips, was well-imprinted on it.

Then, you yanked his shirt's collar toward you, pressing a harsh kiss on the fabric, making sure that the shape of your lips was once again imprinted on the fabric.

You looked back up at his face, unable to hide your smugness as his entire expression was painted with red.

"You're so hot—" Jake attempted to force out of his throat, but you only cut him off with a rough kiss to his lips. Without a word, you covered his face, from his forehead to his jaw, with kisses.

You pulled back to admire your work, before you pulled away from him.

"I have to be on stage in a few minutes," you said quietly, your back turned to him as you straightened out your skirt. Dumbfounded, Jake could only stare at you, but when you turned over your shoulder, flashing him a bright, but terribly cheeky, grin, Jake's heart fell out of chest. "I can't be late, right?"

With that, you left your boyfriend, all hot and bothered, on the couch, running off to prepare for your next event.

Almost immediately, Jake melted. He threw an arm over his eyes as he leaned back, letting out a groan.

Was this how you felt when he teased you?

Was he now sexually frustrated? Absolutely. But now he wanted you even more.

After mulling over it for a few minutes, Jake began to go back to his venue. But, as he passed the backstage vanity, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Some of it was obvious to him already: disheveled hair, messed up shirt. But what made Jake want to evaporate was the sight of his entire face and neck covered in lipstick marks. The corner of his lip had a big lipstick smudge, the hickey that you gave him earlier was so dark now, and he couldn't even dare to forget your lip imprints on his shirt and tie.

You little tease.

Jake's last straw was.... right now.

After the backstage fiasco, he didn't get to see you all day. That night, you had a PR event to attend with your fellow beauty creators, so he didn't get to see you at night either.

Which was why Jake was practically glowing with a dark and negative storm cloud as he pranced around the third day of Vidcon. It didn't help that he saw so many pictures of you and fans all across platforms. Poor guy almost lost it when one of your fans' vlogs blew up, the most replayed part being when you let out the most angelic and sweet laughs he'd ever heard in his life.

That should be him!

Meanwhile, Jake sat in the convention room at a panel. Lined up along the table were other horror creators, from authors to Youtubers to filmmakers, similar to yesterday. The way that this specific event operated was simple: fans got to ask anyone on the panel questions and they'd answer, which the entire room got to hear, and later there would be one-on-ones along the panel.

Jake was pulled out of his thoughts when one of the fans said that they had a question for him.

"Jake, your videos take a long time to make, how do you balance work and your personal life?"

Good question. He had a simple principle when it came to how to balance everything. Jake thought about it for a moment, before reaching for his microphone.

"I don't have any outright method," he began. Jake's mind flashed with your image: all the cute messages you'd send him throughout the day, all the times where after hours of rotting in front of his computer screen he could always count on your loving embrace to give him life, all times that he'd tune into your Spotify playlist so that he could be listening to what you were listening. It was easy to balance work and life, if it was you. "But I always put my life before the screen."

The room was quiet, intently listening to what Jake had to say. After all, he was renowned all across the Internet.

"To be clear, I understand the privilege of getting to work in a profession like mine," Jake continued. "I don't expect everyone to be able to follow my advice exactly, but the more I live, the more I realize that what happens before my very eyes will endlessly matter so much more than what happens in my own little Youtube bubble."

Jake's mouth jumped to you faster than his mind could stop him.

"My beautiful girlfriend is everything to me," he unconsciously began to grin stupidly to himself, "I'd put her above work any day if I had to."

The moment that those words left his lips, the room erupted with gasps and whispers.

"Wait, you have a girlfriend?!" one of Jake's Youtuber friends asked, leading the room to laugh.

Oh.

Shit.

Jake's eyes visibly widened. He clutched his microphone, bringing it up to his mouth, but no words came out.

There was no way in hell that he'd outright deny you, not even in a million years.

"I.... Well..." Jake stammered, trying his best to generate any words at all. He sucked in a sharp breath, a bashful expression making its way onto his face. "That's..."

The room filled with more laughter, alongside the teasing grins and pats on the back that Jake got from his colleagues.

"Oh, so that's what you were giggling about yesterday, lover boy..." Jay, also on the panel, quipped, his brows raised so high on his forehead that it could have touched his hairline.

"Sh-Shut up, Jay!"

Jake's chest felt fizzy. In a weird way.

A part of him felt on-edge. You and him always wanted to keep your relationship secret, for the sake of preserving it. He'd seen what the Internet did to relationships: it tore them apart. It wasn't like he name-dropped you, but he felt so... exposed, so vulnerable.

But at the same time, Jake felt his chest also swell with pride. That's right. He had a girlfriend (a hot girlfriend at that), a girlfriend that he was nefariously down bad for. He hoped everyone knew that, that he was taken and that if there was anyone that he'd spend the rest of his life with, it would be you.

Jake huffed. "Yeah, I have a girlfriend. What about it?"

No one questioned him further. Probably out of fear.

You were in the middle of trying your best to get through a conversation with some beauty guru that you knew one thing about: their personal makeup line launch failed horribly and they gave everyone hairy lipsticks. It was difficult, to say the least.

Exchanging your final regards, you quickly rushed back to your booth.

The first thing you saw when you checked your phone was a viral video, in which Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend. Your heart plummeted to your stomach when you initially read the caption, but when you watched the video, you had a difficult time processing your feelings.

Did you hate that Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend? … No, you didn’t. You didn’t at all. At a certain point, seeing the way that your boyfriend smiled so earnestly made your heart jump out of your chest. The way he was so giddy and smiley (of course, only you could tell that that was how he was feeling— to everyone else it probably looked like he was brooding) made your neck and cheeks warm up.

But, the way that the room erupted with voices and laughter, combined with the quirked brows of everyone on the panel, made you quiver.

You weren’t prepared for it, for how vulnerable you felt as a chorus of “ooh’s” filled the room.

Frankly, there were too many things that you had to focus on at the moment. You'd rather enjoy Vidcon now, and address it later, when things settle down.

Pushing it to the back of your mind, you tucked your phone away, greeting another wave of fans. Though, not without taking an extra second to "heart" the post, adding it to your favorites folder, and rewatching the video one more time, feeling warmth and giddiness filling your chest.

As the cool night air kissed your cheeks, you fought the shy smile that seeped onto your face. It was late now, late enough that you could see all the city lights gleaming, lighting up the dark sky with blotches of all different colors.

There was a Vidcon party for creators, to celebrate the end of the event. Everyone was going. Although it was meant for any creator, there was a very exclusive VIP section; only those of high prestige could get in. Both you and Jake were invited, but upon realizing that nearly the entire hotel complex would be empty due to the popularity of the party, the two of you ditched it.

You'd been wanting to go to the rooftop hottub for a while now, but you never went because you wanted to go with Jake, and it was always too crowded for the two of you to go there comfortably. But now that everyone was gone, it was the perfect time.

Your boyfriend was already waiting for you up there, towel thrown over his shoulder with a shirt and swim trunks. His face lit up the moment he saw yours emerging from the elevator doors, rushing over to you to take your hands.

He paused for a moment. His dark eyes peered at yours, licking his lips before sucking in a sharp breath. Jake gave your forehead a peck, before saying a small "C'mon" and pulling you over to the hottub.

Jake took your towel for you, folding it next to his and perching it on a sunchair.

"They're gonna get off fireworks soon— Oh, damn," he cut himself off as you pulled your shirt over your head, revealing a bikini top. Your face scrunched up, squirming under his gaze. It's not like Jake has never seen you like this (in fact, he'd seen you in much more compromising positions), and it wasn't like he never complimented you, but as the hottub bubbled, the rosy scent of the water filling the air, you felt shy.

Jake slinked toward you, taking his own shirt off.

"Hey there, Gorgeous," he said, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts that had yet to be taken off. Your heart pounded in your chest, fighting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and groan in embarrassment. You kept your eyes glued to the ground. Jake chuckled softly, before clutching your chin gently, making you look up at him.

"Don't get shy on me now, babe," Jake grinned when your lips pressed into an unconscious pout. He squished your cheek, relishing in the look of confusion painted across your face. Then, his hands fell to your hips, pulling them toward his. "You look so beautiful."

Jake's fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts, meeting your eyes for permission before pulling them down himself, revealing your bikini bottoms.

Jake's eyes glazed over your figure, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Jaaakee," you whined, squeezing his hands.

"Sorry," Jake's eyes flickered up to your face. "I can't help it. You're just so hot, baby."

You rolled your eyes, biting back shyness, before you pulled him toward the hottub.

The two of you got into the tub, sinking into the warm water, you felt your limbs relax.

Vidcon was very fun, some of the most fun you've had in a while. But, it was very tiring, having to be around so many people at a time. And plus, it was hard not seeing your boyfriend whenever you wanted.

You pulled your knees to your chest. You could hear the loud techno music a few blocks away, probably coming from the club nearby. The bright night lights of LA was something that you could only imagine sleeping under.

Other than the sound of the city bustles, the hot tub’s jet system, and the occasional ripple of water, the night was silent.

“How was your day?” Jake broke the calm silence. The way the blueish water reflected off his skin made you dizzy.

“Good,” You cursed your voice for being so small. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. It was your boyfriend, for goodness’s sake!

Jake loved it when you were shy, but sometimes he was genuinely worried about you. Part of why he loved you was the game that was trying to figure out what was going on in that pretty head of yours.

He reached out for you, clutching your knee. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Your stomach churned. For a second, you thought about that video of him admitting that he had a girlfriend. It made your skin crawl, but when your boyfriend squeezed your knee, it all stopped.

"Nothing," you said simply.

There's a few pulses of silence, before Jake clicked his tongue.

"H-Hey—!"

Jake got up from the water, wrapping his hands around your waist, and hoisted you up so that your legs were thrown on either side of the body, before sitting back down so that you were perched right on top of his lap.

Your chest, nearly bare, pressed against his own bare chest in a way that made your heart race. The warmth of his skin as it contacted yours was an addicting feeling, enhanced only by the warm water surrounding you. Either it was the steam from the tub, or the heat collecting between the two of your bodies, that rose to your cheeks.

You rested your hands on his chest, your fingertips barely reaching his broad shoulders, while Jake’s hands stayed in their spot around your waist.

"C'mon," you could feel Jake's warm, strong chest rumble beneath you. "Tell me what's wrong."

Under the sky, his eyes gleamed, like two gems. For the flirt that he was, Jake was too genuine and pure of a person. The sincere worry in his eyes made you feel warm, even warmer than you felt right now. And sometimes that was enough for you.

You leaned into him, your hands coming up to cup his face. You rubbed your thumbs against his cheeks, to which he let his eyelids fall shut, relishing in the comfort that was your presence. Every time your thumb pressed against his lips, he kissed them, unable to hide the smile growing on his lips when you giggled softly.

At the corner of your eye, you spotted the purple hickey you left on him the other day. That combined with his wet hair, the water droplets temptingly running down his chest, and the fact that you were right on top of him made you feel light-headed.

Your hands left his face, and Jake opened his mouth to whine about it, but was shut up when your fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

It was a soft, innocent kiss, the type you gave when you just wanted to be close to him. Jake hummed against your lips, squeezing your thighs. You pulled away first, but Jake gently guided the back of your head back to his, pecking your lips.

"I just missed you," you said. You kissed his cheek. "I really missed you."

"It's only been a day," Jake teased you, but he knew better than anyone that he had absolutely no right to say that to you: he was practically dying each moment he couldn't see you.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. You held onto his strong shoulders, eyes glued to his lips. You were feeling needy, needy in the way that you simply wanted to be close to Jake. You were already close to him, but you wanted to be even closer. Your heart thirsted for it.

Then, you heard a rustle, whipping your head around toward the sound.

"Nuh-uh," Jake whispered in your ear, gently holding your face and guiding it to look at him. "I want you to look at me."

It wasn't until a few seconds later that you understood why Jake's tone sounded so teasing: he was referencing you and him the other day backstage.

"Stoppp," you whined, pushing your face into his neck. "You're so annoying."

Jake laughed, his chest rumbling. He stopped to admire the way you were all pressed up against him. He could feel every curve of your body, and he could feel the way your cheeks puffed with air, your lips forming a pout. He poked your cheek.

"You're so cute, baby."

"I know."

"What's with you getting so bold?"

"You're annoying me."

"Awww, you love me so—"

Fireworks fired off in the distance, painting the gray-blue sky with bright colors.

You stayed in your position, only your eyes moving upward to admire the show. However, Jake stayed staring straight at you, practically ignoring the fiery flowers forming in the sky. He gazed into your eyes, watching the reflection in them.

"It's so pretty," you murmur.

"Yeah," Jake felt like he was falling into your eyes, "So pretty."

Just as another round of fireworks shot up into the sky, Jake grabbed your face, crashing his lips onto yours. Your lips fit into each other well, like puzzle pieces, in a way that was so satisfying, almost like you were made for kissing Jake. But for all of the desire and roughness that the kiss was filled with, it was a soft one.

Jake swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, making you squeal and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His hands kneaded your body, roaming all over you with no intention of leaving a single part of your skin untouched. Likewise, you gripped his biceps, digging your nails into his skin to keep yourself grounded.

"Fuck—" Jake mumbled against your lips, only to get cut off by your lips attacking his— "Wait—"

Jake tasted sweet, like candy. He tasted like home, like love, like everything was going to be okay no matter what. How could you pull away now?

"B-Baby, wait—"

"Stop talking, Jakey," you pulled away briefly, only to bite his lip, pulling on the pink flesh with your teeth. You let your tongue roam his mouth, feeling the warmth as your own hands began to wander his toned chest.

"Just kiss me," you breathed.

You kept Jake like this for a few more minutes, trapping him in the heaven that was your lips. But when your bikini top began to untie at the back, something that Jake noticed immediately, he ripped away from you.

Something in his eyes had changed.

Quietly, he tied your bikini top back for you, ignoring your confused (and very breathless) gaze.

"If you keep doing what you do to me," he began into your ear, "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

With that, Jake threw you over his shoulder as he hoisted himself up to his feet. He grabbed everything that you brought to the rooftop, throwing your towel over you and ignoring you fussing.

"W-Where are we goin—?!"

"Back to my room."

You were in for a night.

You and Jake were going to stay in LA for a little while longer after Vidcon, so you extended your stay in the same hotel rooms.

After last night, Jake and you fell asleep in his bed.

It was going to be the best, Jake thought. Neither of you had anywhere to be, anyone to put on a show for. The two of you could sleep in for as long as you'd like. It didn't really matter to him, as long as he could wake up with you in his arms, he'd be all right.

Which is why Jake's heart dropped to his stomach when he woke up to you already dressed, pacing around the room nervously.

"Baby?" Jake was alarmed, even as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Baby, what happened?"

You whipped your head over to him, your expression pinch and painted with anxiety.

"Check your phone," you muttered as you chewed your lip.

Jake did as you said. The moment he opened up his phone, his screen was filled with text messages from everyone: his colleagues, his friends, heck even his own mother. He was tagged in about a thousand posts all across his social media accounts, and his Youtube home page was plastered with his face. But not only his face. Your face too.

What caught his eye was an article from a major Internet news source that made its round across every platform.

Its headline?

Jake Sim and [Name] [Last Name] are reported to be dating.

The worst part was the cover page.

It was a photo of you and Jake, together in the hottub last night, with your arms thrown around his neck with your lips connected. When he read more into it, the photo evidence got more and more specific. Close-up pictures of Jake's neck to reveal a hickey and lipstick mark on his shirt, your smudged lipstick, a screenshot of the Sanrio plush in one of his videos, even that clip of his laugh in the background of one of your videos. Of course, the most crucial one was that clip of Jake admitting that he had a girlfriend.

This was what he wanted, wasn't it? For everyone to know about you, to be able to show you off.

Objectively, this was bound to happen.

But as Jake watched you pace around, your hands shaking as you looked like you were about to cry, he didn't feel the pride that he thought he would feel if everyone knew. He didn't feel happy, he didn't feel excited that he got to show you off. All he felt was a mix of guilt and anger.

And before he could reach out to hold your hand and pull you close, you quietly said that you were going to go on a walk, and left the hotel room.

The quiet that filled the hotel room was piercing. Jake stilled in his spot, still groggy and disheveled.

Had he always been like this?

He swore that at the beginning of your relationship, he took every measure to keep it private. Because you asked him to. Because he respected you.

Why did he throw it all away?

He agreed to keep things private.

But now he put you in an uncomfortable position and an even more vulnerable position than you'd ever been in before.

Was he a bad boyfriend? Were you going to break up with him? Would your relationship with him ever be the same? That made Jake's heart palpitate. He couldn't lose you. No, he'd die. But then again, he fucked up, he knew that.

Jake ran a hand through his hair. This was an asshole move.

But he couldn't help feeling his fingers twitch for his phone when it ding'd.

The first thing he saw when he opened up Twitter were tweets at him.

And they were surprisingly... supportive?

"Emo boyfriend, cute girlfriend, the best combo!"

"Sending love to both of you. Hope you're doing well. We support you."

"I'm very pleasantly surprised."

"This is literally like Hello Kitty and Batman meeting this is crazy"

But as he scrolled deeper, he found more obscure comments.

"Feel so bad for [Name]. Her boyfriend is a freak."

"He doesn't deserve her."

And the nail in the coffin:

"No wonder they kept it a secret. I'd hide it too if someone like that was my boyfriend."

Why did you keep your relationship with him secret? Jake knew the answer to that: you just wanted to keep your personal life private.

But as Jake plunged himself deeper and deeper into the hole that was the media, he could only imagine alternative answers, and one stuck out.

Were you ashamed of him?

Of course you would be.

You were beautiful in every capacity and just the most perfect person in the world. And Jake was just himself. You were always cute, and sometimes, Jake felt like he couldn't keep up with you. You were far out of his league. His content was considered "niche" and "obscure," of course people, maybe even you, considered him a freak.

He was a bastard, and you were a princess. He didn't blame you for being embarrassed about him.

That's why you were so anxious and against your relationship being exposed, right?

No, no, no!

Shut up, shut up, shut up, Jake thought, his hands balling into fists. You wouldn't. He knew you better than anyone, and he knew that you would never be embarrassed about him. You weren't like that, and he was a fool for even thinking of you in that way. He was being insecure and stupid.

But even so, as Jake let all the guilt, shame, anger, and anxiety settle in while he thought of an apology to you, he couldn't help but feel his insecurity seeping in.

You knew that you were overreacting. You shouldn't have left Jake in there all alone, you should have sat down and talked to him about it.

But there was something scary about having everybody's eyes on you at once, scorning you. You were a Youtuber, of course you knew what it felt like to be watched, but to have the entire internet so hellbent about your personal life made you jump into your own skin.

You just took a walk along the early city streets, you reflected upon yourself.

Why did you keep your relationship with Jake secret?

Part of it was privacy. You didn't want the internet to interfere with your personal life, of course.

But it wasn't like you wanted to hide your love for your boyfriend forever. It wasn't like you wanted to stow him away somewhere no one could find him. You were both adults, and you had to start living at some point.

You'd be lying if you said that you never thought about making a cute video with him, if you said you never wanted to post a cheesy anniversary picture on Instagram with a long caption just for him, if you said you never wanted the world to know that Jake Sim was yours.

You remembered the first time you and Jake talked about keeping it private. He was unsure, but because he cared so much about you, he agreed. Had you ever stopped to think about how he felt? You may have wanted to keep your relationship quiet, but did he? To a degree, there was something selfish about you, both now and in the past. You wanted to preserve yourself and your feelings, but you never even considered how Jake felt.

You were afraid, you felt vulnerable and too exposed to the world. But you cared far more about Jake than those fleeting emotions. Desire outweighed fear, you had to see him now.

But as you marched back to your hotel, your mind racing as you came up with paragraphs of words that you'd spill to Jake, you began to notice your worst nightmare.

A group of men, each with massive cameras that had even bigger microphones.

They called themselves the paparazzi, but they were really only middle-aged men that made money off of being invasive towards people half their age.

Maybe you should have worn a hat, or something, as you were in a camera-infested area that was even more infested with celebrities and influencers. As they approached you, you quickened your steps, trying to get as far as you could from them. You tried your best not to make eye-contact, but alas, they got to you before you could escape.

"[Name]?" one of them called out your name, practically running to you.

Oh my god, you thought, ignoring them as you sped up. Please not right now.

"[Name], are you dating Jake Sim?" The sound of your boyfriend's name out of their mouths made your stomach churn. You kept walking, but you could feel them pointing their massive cameras at you, taking any measure to make a buck off of you.

You had a few choices.

You could make a run for it. Though, you had about six men double your age who would probably chase you down.

You could also give in to them, and give very vague answers. That would require a lot of patience, and simply, you wanted to go kiss your boyfriend, not talk to these so-called paparazzis.

Your last option was the one that seemed the most appealing, but could stir the pot of the media even more and it would give the tabloids what they wanted: you could tell them off and shut them down completely. The only issue was that you were the cutesy, sweet, Sanrio Hello Kitty girl. You've talked about adult topics before, but for you to be hostile and mean to another person? That was completely unheard of to anyone on the Internet. It would also be very reactive, and the media could twist that into something more.

But you wanted to get out of there.

You wanted to go see Jake. If you had to throw a few curse words at people if it meant that you could go home to Jake, then you'd use every curse under the sun.

"[Name], everyone is saying that your relationship with Jake Sim is real and not a publicity stunt. Any comment on that-?"

You were getting irritated.

You stopped in your tracks, turning over your shoulder.

"Will you fuck off?" Your gaze hardened on the group of men shoving cameras in your faces. You didn't even bother looking into the lens. "It's 10 in the morning, I don't have time for this."

"We didn't mean to offend you, [Name], we just wanted to know your relationship with Jake Si—"

You huffed to yourself, rolling your eyes. They loved acting polite only to violate your privacy.

"Cut the bullshit, okay?" you narrowed your eyes. You were only a few meters from the hotel entrance, and they were still stalking you with their massive cameras. How shameless.

Your anger was bubbling up inside you. It was rising, rising so much that you could feel it attempting to spill out of your mouth.

"You want to make a quick buck off of me so bad?" You stepped through the hotel doorway.

If the media was so curious about your life, and if they wanted to go so far as to try to disrupt your relationship, you wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

Everyone loved seeing what you were doing, everyone loved to watch you. It was your job to put on a show, to give people what they wanted. If you wanted to live, then you'd have to accept that.

You were an influencer, a micro-celebrity. You could make tides move if you wanted to. Why be so fearful of the eyes of so many?

But more than anything, you were a performer. And if that's what they wanted from you, that's what they'll get.

"Fine," you huffed. "I'll give you a story: me and Jake have been together for six years. In fact, we met each other in high school when he was my Physics lab partner. Go investigate that, won't you?"

With that, you slammed the hotel entrance door in their faces.

Jake swore he heard the trumpets of heaven when the hotel room door cracked open, revealing you.

He'd been waiting in front of it for a while now, and he jerked up immediately as he saw your face. He jumped right to his feet, ready to spill every word he thought of on you. You deserved an explanation.

But all you did was raise your hand, silencing him instantly. Instead, you took off your shoes, took his arm, and pulled him with you to the bed. You motioned for him to lay down, and did so yourself.

Jake stared at you like you were insane. Were you not going to yell at him? Why weren't you hitting him or telling him that you wanted to break up with him? Should he be on his knees begging you to stay at this point? But he complied (because of course he did, it was you).

You laid on his chest in silence, pressing your cheek up against him.

That made his mind wander.

Maybe you were trying to ease him into a hard conversation. Maybe you were going to forget this until later.

He didn't want that. No, you deserved to hear what he had to say. If you were going to leave him, Jake wanted to say everything that he wanted to.

"I'm sorry," Jake blurted. The silence was deafening, before you took a deep breath, turning over onto your stomach so that your chin laid on his chest.

"What for?"

The gentle look in your eye as you looked at him made Jake choke up himself. He had to hold back or he'd start sobbing.

"For going against your wishes a-and..." Jake searched through his mind for all the words he practiced, but nothing came to mind. Not with you looking at him like you still loved him. "And for telling people about our relationship. I—I shouldn't have done that and I'm sorry for disrespecting the promise w-we made.... And... And—"

Jake sucked in a loud, sharp breath. His eyes were getting watery. He took your hands in his, squeezing them.

"And I know that you're ash—ashamed of me, and I know that y-you won't— you won't want to be with me anymore, but—"

"Wait what?" you interrupted him, squeezing hands back. "I'm not ashamed of you, Jakey."

Jake stared at you.

Jakey.

"I'm not breaking up with you either. What makes you think that?"

The gate that was holding back Jake's emotions broke.

Jake let the tears that he tried so hard to hold back roll down his face. He let out a sob before he clamped a hand over his mouth.

You didn't hate him? You still wanted to be with him?

You instantly threw your leg over his hips, straddling him as you pulled his head to your chest. He melted into your touch, his wet face hiding in the crook of your neck. You pet his hair, pressing kisses to the crown of his head.

"Baby," you whispered into his ear gently. "Why are you crying?"

Jake's crying only got louder, and you couldn't help but giggle. He was a total softie. The way his hold around you tightened told you enough.

Jake sniffled through his words, cutting himself off every now and then with a hiccup and more sobs. "Th-Thought you were gonna l-leave me."

Your fingers stopped in his hair. "Leave you? Why would I?"

Jake pushed his face back into your shoulder, shaking his head.

You let him cry like that for a little while longer, whispering sweet reassurances in his ear as you patted his back.

And when he was ready, the two of you talked it out, because that's what people did when they loved each other. You exchanged apologies, explained to each other your thought processes, and created an agreement: start anew, and you both didn’t mind that your relationship was now public, and if either of you disagreed, you had to voice it immediately. You ended it with a kiss.

You clicked the camera on, checking in the viewfinder that you were in-frame. You were back at home, the pink Hello Kitty decorations in your room, as well as the scent of strawberries, surrounding you.

“Hi, everyone!” you smiled brightly, clasping your hands together. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you all. How are you?”

You chatted about a few updates since Vidcon, telling about your wonderful experience there and how you were so happy to meet all your fans.

“Now, onto the video!”

You peered to the side, where you spotted Jake sitting at the edge of your bed, waiting intently for your cue.

“Oh, Jakey!” you said in a sing-songy voice. “Come out now!”

With that, Jake popped into frame, dorkily saying a quick hi before plopping down onto the chair beside you.

“Today, I will be doing my boyfriend’s makeup!” you chirped happily. “Are you ready, boyfriend?”

The two of you shared a grin.

“Of course, girlfriend.”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #jake sim fluff #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagine #jake enhypen #jake sim #jake fluff #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jaeyun x rader #star-sim #vanya-writes

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blkkizzat · 6 months

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summary: After a really shitty blind date you end up lashing out at a sexy stranger, sarcastically posing him a question he's more than willing to answer. a/n: Toji got me feral as fuck today y'all but I make zero apologies. Especially for this trifling ass gif because wtf else was I supposed to do after watching this scene, who isn't thinking this is the real question!?!? wc: 3.1k over 2.1k of it is literally just Toji being a munch

eta- put a cute frame over the gif ❤︎

You were sitting alone in a dive bar after a sorry ass excuse of a blind date. Drowning your sorrows you definitely needed something stronger than the seltzers in your fridge at home.

Things on your date were going well until the end of the night when the conversation turned frisky. You then whispered into your date’s ear that you wanted to ride his face.

That's when your date’s actual face turned to repulsion. Your blind date flat out said eating pussy was gross and refused.

You had dealt with previous boyfriends not wanting to go down on women so you weren't dealing with that shit again.

Nuh-uh. No way.

After not-so-politely telling him to kindly go and fuck himself you grabbed your purse and walked right the hell out of there.

And here you are now.

Alone.

At a sketchy ass dive bar that was mostly emptied.

Three shots of tequila in and a fourth setting on the table waiting for the room to stop spinning before you down it and go home.

Your head was resting on the cool bar countertop as you cursed the entire male species for their existence.

Selfish jerks. Every single one of them.

That would be the last date you would go on in a while. The only man you wanted to see was the bartender when he handed you another shot of tequila and then he could go fuck off too.

So when you felt a large hand on your lower back and a gruff but seductive 'Hey mamas' blowing hot air in your ear you fucking lost it and the full wrath of your scorn and sarcasm was directed at this man.

"LISTEN, I've just had a really shitty blind date. I just want to take this last shot of tequila, stuff my face with KFC and go home. So unless the answer is 'Yes' to the question 'Do you eat pussy?' Get the fuck out of my face, please and thank you!"

You didn’t care who heard your drunken tirade as you lifted your head to face the punching bag for all your current male frustrations.

Your jaw dropped.

The man who stood beside you looked like he walked straight out of Greek mythology. He was tall and muscular with tan skin and his black compression shirt stuck to him like a second skin giving you a detailed view.

Shit he must be a boxer, or a martial artist or something. There was really no other excuse for a man to be that ripped.

You chewed your lip as your eyes slowly trailed up his body, drinking in his statuesque form to finally arrive at his face framed with shaggy raven hair.

Fuck he is really hot too.

The man, although sexy, looked intimidating as hell as he towered over you.

You winced as you thought you were in for it with his response and you started to already form an apology in your head.

But instead of anger the man just looked down at you with amused knowing eyes as he allowed you to ogle him.

He also wore an insanely devious smirk, his scar pulling up at the corner of his mouth.

“Heh.”

From that point things were a bit of a blur as he snatched up and downed your shot of tequila, grabbed your arm and led you away to the back with you barely having time to grab your purse.

You only registered what was happening once your back hit the cold tile of the bathroom wall and saw this sexy mysterious man lower himself to his knees before you.

His large muscular hands trailed all over your body, never leaving you.

"W-What are you doing!?"

You didn't know what to think, this was all happening so fast.

Was this intimidating but sexy as fuck man that you just met, yelled at and didn't even know his name, about to eat you out!?

"Heh, I’m answering your question, mamas."

The man spread your legs at the ankles, not even bothering to lift up the skirt of your dress. Choosing instead to just stick his head right up in there, letting the fabric drape over him.

"Wait at least tell me your na–"

Your sentence was cut short as you gasped at the sensation of his nose pressing into your clit through your black laced panties.

The man wiggled his nose against your clit like he was giving it eskimo kisses. He then salaciously took a huge whiff of your scent through his nostrils and puffed out the large exhale of warm moist breath directly over your cunt sending tingles through your body.

"Fuck, who wouldn’t want to taste this sweet slutty cunt?"

He mumbled, making the comment more to himself than you but your legs still shook slightly from the vulgar compliments and vibrations of his voice in your pussy.

You were practically purring now. You could feel the surge of heat and need rushing over your body spreading out from your core.

Especially now as his tongue was dragging up the thin lace of your panties and stopped to suck at your clit through the textured material.

It felt absolutely wild.

“F-Fuck!”

You moaned loudly and quickly covered your mouth with your hand.

His hands slid up your dress to roughly dig into your hips and pull your pelvis more forward as he smashed his face into your cunt.

Your last bit of reason was telling you to stop him. You didn’t know him at all and what if someone walked in and saw you both?

However, once you feel the man’s mouth grab the hem of your panties and drag them down your legs to remove them by his teeth alone, your common sense was discarded as well.

You exhaled as you threw your head back in resignation, missing how he slyly pocketed your black lace panties once he finally had them off of you. He would be taking those with him.

You looked down at him as he rose up again, pulling up your dress. He placed a chaste kiss on the mound of your now completely exposed pussy as you squirmed in excitement under him.

“Y’er gonna be a good girl f’er me n’ do what I say, so I can eat this slutty pussy out the way she deserves, eh?”

The cocky smirk on his face never left and he reached both hands around to grasp both your plump ass cheeks, kneading them and enjoying the way your soft flesh squeezed through his fingers.

“Y-Yeah, uh-huh, I’ll be good. I p-promise.”

You breathed out those words too rapidly causing you to realize how needy and desperate you sounded. Your hips involuntarily bucked towards him and you became pliant in his hands.

God, you were nearly begging him with your entire body at this point.

But the fact was you would be begging him anyway if for some reason he found some good sense and decided this was all way too crazy to be happening right now.

Fortunately for you, you apparently stumbled on the fairy fucking godfather of pussy eating appearing seemingly out of nowhere and who clearly didn’t give a single fuck as to where he was.

His eyes looked crazed and his grin widened at your consent. He released your cheeks to roll up your dress further.

He gave it to you, but not for you to hold with your hands but with your mouth.

“Bite down on this f’er me, yeah? Heh, wouldn’t want to draw a crowd from your screams.”

Of course he is arrogant too.

You rolled your eyes but were obedient. You were too caught up in the thrill of what was happening to disobey him and have him stop.

You bit down on the bunched designer fabric.

“That’s a good little slut f’er me.”

He mockingly praised you and gave an abrupt slap to your ass.

You whimpered around the fabric.

You really didn’t understand why you just couldn’t use your hands though, but you soon found out as he threw both of your legs over his shoulders.

Your hands were needed to brace yourself, that much became obvious to you as they flew to the wall behind. You grasped for any kind of stability you could find on the slick tile so you wouldn’t topple over.

His strong wide hands wrapped around your thighs and brought your dripping core closer to his face.

A barely audible ‘Itadakimasu’ was all the warning you got before you felt his flat heavy tongue dig into your cunt.

“S-Shiiiiiiiiit!”

Exploring your pussy like uncharted territory he took his time to lap, slurp and swirl his way through, roaming in the intoxicating folds of your cunt. A fast learner, he noted what made your body twitch, your leg shake or an extra hitch in the deep moans that escaped you through the fabric in your mouth.

Wanting to hear you scream, he swiped his canine over your clit before he traced his tongue over the bud and sucked hard.

Mission accomplished as your muffled scream came through the fabric of your dress and a hand of yours left the wall to find purchase in his hair, pulling on it hard.

He growls into your pussy with approval when he feels the harsh tug on his black strands and continues working you over, pulling all sorts of vulgar noises from you as he slobbers and spits into your cunt.

The man was fucking nasty the way he devoured you like it was his last meal on death row.

“S-so, close-ahh!”

Your muffled voice told him but the man could already tell by the way your thighs had enclosed around his head, twitching against him while suffocating him deeper into your core.

The tension that wound itself into a coil in your stomach reached his limits and it finally broke when you felt his canine swipe against your clit a second time.

Your cries choked out as they clumsily made their way out of your mouth still stuffed with your drool soaked dress.

You quivered and gushed into his mouth, eyes rolling back and your other hand found its way into his hair. Wrenching his locks in between your manicured fingers as if you intended to scalp him from how hard you were twisting.

That only served to encourage his efforts however as he slurped up your juices more fiercely. You clawed at him to release you but you might as well had steel around your body as neither his bulky muscular arms nor thick head budged.

Fuck its too much!

Finally pulling black with a pop he smacked his lips and exhaled an ‘ahhh’ as if he was taking a pause from stuffing himself with a delicious meal.

“This cunt is so fucking creamy, need some more of ‘er.”

You shook your head as tears welled in your eyes at the sight of him salivating over your puffy pussy lips glistening with the combined fluids of your cum and his spit.

“Mm, you want me to stop? But she doesn’t want me to.”

His thick tongue flattened to take painfully slow licks over your slit, the man’s fierce green eyes never leaving yours as they flared with primal urges.

You never had someone aggressively eat you out like this, not to mention actually enjoy it this much.

This man was fucking insane.

“Let’s ask this slutty pussy what she want’s, eh?”

The man tilted your pelvis up, lifting your lower back off the wall so he could move close to your hole that was fluttering, shamelessly clenching around nothing.

“See that, ma? She’s winking at me, inviting me in. How can I say no?”

He sounded absolutely unhinged as he slowly extended his tongue to push up into you.

Your muffled sobs were drowned out by the erotic squelching sounds of your cunt echoing off the tile walls.

He accelerates you to the point of overstimulation with such vigor that you easily cum on his tongue again for a second time.

This time your legs trembled more violently and your heels dug into his back causing him to grunt deeper into your pussy. The sharp digging of your heels into his back did nothing to discourage him as his tongue fucked further into your hole without mercy.

All you could do was wither in his clutches as he rolled his tongue inside you throughout the high of your second orgasm.

You were panting and your jaw became slack as you slowly lost the ability to hold your dress in your mouth any longer. Releasing it along with a well of drool that once freed, overflowed down the corners of your mouth to drip down your neck and chest along with your tears.

“One more mama, I know this slutty pussy can give me that at least... Tch, and take off that dress if ya ain’t gonna hold it, ya? Let’s see those pretty tiddies, eh?”

The man’s distasteful and outright crass words should have turned you off.

But his filthy tongue not only drains you of your juices but also any kind of restraint or decency you had left. His brash words only make you all the more aroused.

Obeying him once more, you rid yourself of the dress pulling it up and over your head, not caring where it landed.

You would rather it off than in your mouth anyway. Opting to not wear a bra with this dress you were now naked save for your heels.

“Nice tits.”

You rolled your eyes as his crass compliment but wore a small grin yourself as you playfully shook your shoulders allowing them to jiggle down at his face.

He chuckled at your display but his voice quickly turned devious again.

“Make sure y’er holding on tight this time, eh?”

You strengthen your grip on his raven locks but you still weren’t prepared for when he rose up off the ground entirely to stand, completely shouldering your weight.

“ACK!!”

The altitude change wasn’t something you expected. He held you up off the wall like you weighed nothing to him and although you felt secure around the lower half of your body, an arm still flailed around for balance.

Thankfully, you discovered you could hold on to the pipes that hung from the low ceiling yet it creaked as you held on.

Shit, you hoped it would hold.

Seeing you secure yourself the man wasted no time enveloping your cunt with his hot mouth. The gravity of your weight pushing down your core on his mouth had him more needy for air and you felt the pulses that rocked through you from his rough exhales with fervor.

“Fuckfuckfuck!”

It proved to be much more difficult to keep your cries of pleasure contained. But you bit your lip to try to suppress yourself into a whine instead of a scream.

Although that all went to shit once you saw the reflection of the two of you in the dirty floor to ceiling bathroom mirror.

You could still clearly see your forms and the way you looked. Your face completely blissed out, sweating and panting as the mad man did everything but rest while he was between your legs, circling and suckling as if he personally challenged himself to drain all the fluids from your body.

You tighten your hold on the pipe and experimentally roll your hips forward and your other hand, threaded behind his head through his thick hair pulls him closer as well.

“G-God-f-fuck-shiiiiit!”

You didn’t care who the fuck heard you this time, as you watched yourself in the mirror thrust your hips forward to fuck deeper into his face, building up a rhythm.

Your tits bounced up higher with your back arched as your mouth hung open spilling out curses, cries and moans alike. The scene was better than a porno, so hot, so feral, you half wished someone was recording this.

Absolutely loving the thought of you losing yourself to his depravity and you taking on a more aggressive role, the man growled with approval once more into your cunt as his tongue continued to unravel you.

Your movements became more frantic as you could feel your third and most intense orgasm yet approaching. He eagerly relinquishes more control to you as he allows you to grind his face farther into your pussy.

You shuddered as you felt a shock of electricity wreck your entire being, assaulting all of your senses with the feeling of pure ecstacy. Your toes ached from the intensity of their curling in your heels and your mind only filled with the sounds of the sloppy gurgling noises from the man below you literally being smothered by your cunt as you rut into him.

It wasn’t just the cheap fluorescent lights of the bathroom eye-level with you when white filled your vision and you felt yourself release to convulse and squirt all over the man’s face.

If you weren’t holding onto the pipe above for dear life, you’re sure you would have fallen.

After a few moments the man easily shifted his hold to your waist and brought your feet back to touch the ground. However, you were still more than a bit shaky and a few steps backwards had you bumping into the wall and sliding down to the floor.

Your fluids leak out into a small puddle on the ground between your sticky thighs.

The man whose name you still didn’t know slicked his hair back into place as he glanced down at you, disheveled and heaving on the floor.

“Gochisosama, mama.”

He smirked even with his face completely drenched with your nectar. He brazenly circled his tongue around his lips and corners of his mouth to greedily lap up any of you remaining that he could before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Name’s Fushiguro. Toji. Heh, and yeah ma as ya now know, I do eat pussy.”

You gave a weak chuckle at that but your eyes were glossed over and you were fading a bit. You can’t recall the last time you came that hard at all, let alone from just getting your pussy ate.

“Now, I gotta question, ma.”

Your body, still vibrating with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm has left you non-verbal so you simply nodded your head for Toji to continue.

Toji crouches down to your level which reveals his monstrous and fully bricked cock straining through his sweats.

Your eyes widen when you see it and you knew then everything about this man named Toji Fushiguro was fucking ridiculous, in both size and demeanor.

Lifting your chin so you could look him directly in his eyes, Toji slid his thumb over on your bottom lip.

The appendage bullied its way past your lips and pressed down on your tongue. Your mouth opened wide and he inspected you like he was a doctor examining the back of your throat.

Pleased with what he saw, Toji gave you a shit eating grin.

“You swallow kids?”

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

a/n: Istg I'm working on part 2 of Werewolf!Toji but theres no pussy eating in that and he needed to eat some pussy today. I deserve that and y'all deserve that too.

So here. Come and let our feral hunger feast together as Toji feasts on us.

11/4: a quick afterthought of what happened next.

Reblog to spread the depravity as everyone needs to have this crazy ass header pop-up on their timeline lmfao. But likes and comments are appreciated all the same!

tags of depravity please don't send me away for this one: @callm3senpaii @ryomens-vixen

1K notes · View notes

mysteriesmuse · 9 months

Text

It all started with Katsuki being dead-asleep and sprawled out and snoring in a way that most people would deem horrendously uncomfortable, and obnoxiously pleasant. Like an overgrown cat.

He was dead to the world until his phone rang. Biceps twitching and flinging awake in the dark Katsuki’s dark red eyes cut across the grey light of his room to catch into the stark blue phone light that was buzzing like crazy. Hands accidentally fumbling as he grabbed it he squinted with a surprised, “fuck.” Why were you calling him? You were 2 years his senior and the resident babysitter/tutor of his neighborhood back in Musutafu. A smart student and pretty girl: one of the only babysitters his parents ever agreed to come watch him. Mostly because your death glare was one that could really rival his own mothers, but also bc Katsuki harbored a little bit of admiration and a crush on you for some time making him actually behave for you.

And as your name flashes across the screen pressed against his cheek he can only remember sitting at the kitchen counters and sharing orange slices as you quiz him for his practical exams. He hasn’t seen you in years. Your voice flits through same as ever, “Hey Katsuki!” He shuffles and sits up closer. His eyebrows peaked — you sound breathy and stressed. “Hey to you too,” he growls. Another whisky giggle, “I know it’s late. I’m really sorry about that! It’s just — well your mother always tells me to call you if I was ever alone at night and I couldn’t think of who else I trust to call. . .” His damn mother did have a habit of telling resident kids to call him in case they were in dangerous situations. A habit she always kept up since he was a kid; always making him walk with you and the other girls when school clubs let out. And now here he was a fledgling hero and Mitsuki was still telling extras to call him — I guess some things never change. Katsuki could hear the faint music of karaoke bars over the phone. Already getting out of bed and rummaging through his drawers for a pair of sweats and hoodie. “S’ okay. Where’re you at right now?” You huff a little sigh, “I’m out at the bar strip on the west side of the city . . . it’s a little chilly.” Katsuki already has his feet in his slides and is heading out his dorm room, “I can hear your teeth chattering from here.” He huffs, “Now what’s the problem?” “I’m just a little nervous . . .” You admonish finally, “Could you just stay on the phone with me, please Katsuki? It’s really kinda sketchy out here.” He grunts, already stepping out the dormitory door and hitting the streets. “I can do that. How’ve ya been? It’s been awhile.” You huff a little laugh, “College is fine pretty mundane to what you’ve been doing. I’ve seen you on the tv and in the news a lot recently. I’m real proud of you Kit-Kat. Your folks are too.” Katsuki can feel his stupid heart leap at that nickname you gave him.

It’s because he used to give you kit-kats every year on white day — which wasn’t really out of the ordinary since you gave him chocolate on valentines, but you gave chocolates to all the neighborhood kids anyways. And despite his parents teasing and his agony you never seemed to think much of it, ruffled his hair and gave him a cute nickname.

He chest swells with pride nonetheless. A particular school event was coming up and he finds himself mentioning it as he spots your form sitting under the bus stop and shouts into the night instead of the phone. “I’ve got my year-three performance showcase coming up next week. If you wanna come watch I can definitely get you tickets next to my folks.” Your eyes go wide and flit over to his figure in the darkness. And the first thing Katsuki can’t help but think is that you look pretty.

Your arms are crossed over your chest and the black corset top you’re wearing. It makes your waist and broad shoulders pop. And as he gets closers he can see that it’s got the lace closures down the sides with cute little bows that you’ve tied. A pair of cream colored trousers and tall peep-toe heels underneath as you rise to greet him. Phone slack in your hand as you stare at him. The black straps of your top dangling over your smooth collarbone as you inhale, “Kats what are you doing here?” Your head of curled hair — he’s never seen you with curled hair before — tilts like a puppy dog. He shrugs hands in his pockets, “Coulda asked you the same.” He says pointedly, you curl in and flush with embarrassment, “How much have you had?” “Only a few. I’m still sober.” You reply with a shiver as you fall into step beside him, “Not as fun as I thought it was gonna be. My friends are still inside.” At this Katsuki feels himself relax he didn’t think this was really your seen anyway. Especially with those friends he knows you’re referring to: the older kids of the neighborhood. “Yeah the rest of them are real pieces of work, babe.” Babe. Did he just call you babe? Dunce face is rubbing off on him. You notice, glancing to look up at him, but he watches you shake your head a little and dismiss it as quickly. “So what’s this showcase that you mentioned Kit-Kat?” He huffs, taking the side closest to the street, “It’s a promotional showcase for 3rd years. Show the pros what we can do, explain our personal philosophy, our ambitions. It’s like a really big resume preview. It’s real important for getting yourself out there to the agencies although I already have good ties to some.” You nod, bumping elbows with him as you dodge a streetlight, “seems really important,” you muse. “I’d love to come if it’s no trouble?” Katsuki’s eyes are glued into your glossy lips while you say that, turning away with the tips of his ears pink as he grunts, “S’ no problem at all. I can get ya’ one tomorrow.” You hum thoughtfully, “it’ll be nice to see you in action up close. I’ve watched your sports festival showings before — it makes me want s’mores.” at this you giggle and lock eyes with him, “I let you do that one time.” Katsuki groans rolling his eyes. “Still the best ones I ever had!” He chuckles nudging you with his shoulder. You beam ear-to-ear and his heart pitters as you loop an arm through his to steady yourself, “I can’t believe we’re both so grown-up now.” And here you go turning sappy on him.

“You know Suki’ I know you’re gonna be a great hero because you’ve always done stuff like this for me. No matter how often others tell you different, you send them to me okay?” And you’re sniffling now, still shivering against his side as you prepare to fight off all the haters he has. He’s matured a lot since his debut, but they don’t say make a good-first impression for nothing. He glances at you intelligent, well-educated, passionate as you are you weren’t gonna put up much of a fight — he still appreciates the sentiment. He grumbles a “thank you” into your hair as he walks you home in the dead of night.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #bakugou headcanons #mha fanfiction #reader insert #mysteriesmusing #Totally random one today y’all I got off work sooo early this morning and wrote this #just a little blurb #I wouldn’t expect anymore of this idea

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charlesswife · 10 months

Text

Una Noche En Monaco v

unem masterlist

5 Dias De Prueba (5-day trial)

pairing: charles leclerc x latina! reader

summary: after a one night stand between you and Charles, he continues on with his formula one career. until two months later, you come back claiming to be pregnant with his child.

word count: 7.6k - not proofread.

April 2023

"Do you wanna come to the next race? I can get you tickets, you can be my guest."

His words replayed in my head like a broken record. Why would I be interested into going to the race in the first place?

As I opened the door of my apartment I was greeted by the smell of something sweet.

I checked the time on my watch. 9:45 pm.

"Isn't it late to be baking Naughty Brownies?" I called from the entrance. I heard a small "Oh no" from Mateo and a "Busted" from Steph.

I heard Mateo's footsteps around the kitchen, "Tia you have to hide me."

"Okay, okay."

As I entered the kitchen, I saw one of the floor cabinets a little open. Steph had a smile on her face.

"Why is Mati awake?" I asked her. I heard a small gasp coming from the cabinet.

"Awake? He's not awake. He's in his bed with Percy." Steph answered, holding her laugh. Just as she said that Percy walked into the kitchen wagging his tail. I petted his face and he licked my hand, then he walked to the slightly open cabinet and stuck his head inside.

Mateo tried to push him away with his tiny hands. "Go away, you're gonna get me caught." He said in a serious tone, the Rottweiler started to lick him as well. In the end, the cabinet door opened, leaving Mateo in full display.

"Oh, Mati. I didn't know that was your new bed. Should've told me before I bought you that big bed you have." I said as I brought the brownie to my lips. Steph loves having slutty brownies before bed, but ever since Mateo was born, we had to change the name to naughty brownies.

He stayed quiet for a second, his green eyes started to gloss. "Am I in trouble?"

He is so cute, I wanted to laugh for a second. "No, mi amor. Come out so you can have a piece and go to bed."

When my mom was alive, she used to say 'When in doubt, leave your destiny in the hands of a coin, flip it and carry on' and while usually I would do it, sometimes I wish she was here to tell me what to do.

Heads - I go to the GP

Tails - I stay

I was never good at flipping coins. All the time I flip it and let it drop to the floor. So that is what I did. I didn’t dare to look down, at least not until the coin stopped circling around the floor.

I picked up the coin. This is my destiny and so be it.

The next day I decided to meet up with Charles, to tell him my answer.

I expect our meeting to be short and easy, so I told him to meet me at a parking lot. It sounds very sketchy now that I think about it.

I saw his car once I got into the parking, I tried to open the door but it was locked - which made sense - I knocked on his window and when he finally saw me he unlocked the door and I got in.

Europeans kiss both cheeks to say hi, and in my culture, we do it just once. But I am not in my country and I do not want to say hi to Charles, let alone kiss me. So when his body approached mine to greet me with kisses I stopped him. His body was close enough that I smelled his perfume. It smelled like a drug... very addicting to the point I wanted t smell more.

"Sorry," he murmured. "It's a habit." he tried to explain.

"Yeah, whatever." I responded. "This is what's going to happen. We are not co-parenting. Mateo is my son, so you don't get a say here. If you really say that you are ready to be a man and be responsible and be a father, that's fine, but you have to prove it. I will decide when is the right time to tell my son you're his father," I saw his Adam's apple go up a bit as if he was nervous.

"His name is Mateo?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"With one T?" My heart stopped for a second. The last time we spoke, he told me he saw a kid in the car, but he never said he met Mateo or even spoke with him to the point he knows his name is with one t.

"How did you know-?"

"Is it really?" his voice was higher this time. "I met him. At the bookstore. And I- I- I felt this connection the moment I saw him, and I asked his name and he said 'Mateo with one T'" His smile is so wide that I wondered for a second if his cheeks hurt.

I stared at him. I don't know if I should curse him out, or simply get out of the car and forget this meeting ever happen, because how dare he say he felt a 'connection'. He's full of shit. "Don't ever say that again. Especially not in front of me. You don't have a connection, you don't know him. I don't know which god or angel is on your side to the point that you found us and you even talked to him. I'm nice enough to actually give you a second chance, but I have my limits, so you better be careful with the things you say."

I took my phone out and opened the Calendar app. "Today is the 19th and most likely you have to be in Baku on the 25th. So you have five days you can spend with Mateo, with me present, of course. If you want to spend time with him, that is."

"Yes! Sorry, yes. Of course." He nodded. "Is it possible to have a dinner with my family? I want my family to know you and Mateo. They don't... they don't really know about any of this,"

"Your family doesn't know about us?" Us meaning Mateo and me, not Charles and I. He shaked his head. "I wouldn't be too worried about your family. If I were you, I would be more concerned about how the public would react to this. The truth will come out sooner or later, and God knows what they are going to say."

His face was blank. He knew I was right, or maybe he was thinking that I would release the information to the public. "I'll protect him. No matter what."

I wanted to say a sarcastic comment but I didn't want to. At least just for today. I saw the way his eyes became a bit red when I told him he doesn't have a connection with Mateo.

He cleared his throat a bit and then he looked me in the eyes. Oh, his big green eyes. "I just want to thank you, for giving me a chance. I will prove to you that I am worthy of you and Mateo." Why is he talking this way?

I texted him the address of my apartment, once it got sent I said, "That's my address, be there at 9:30"

Thursday 20th - Charles' POV

Am I early? Will she be mad that I am early? I stand in front of her door, debating whether I should knock or come back in thirty minutes. Just as I was about to leave the door open.

"Okay, Mati, see you later!" The woman said as she stepped out, she turned around and faced me. "Oh," she looked at her watch and said, "shouldn't you be here in thirty minutes?"

"Yeah, um I wasn't- um I was going to come back in a bit," I said.

"There's no point, you are already here so I might as well let you in. Just go inside and wait, and whatever you do, don't open the curtains." She opened the door again and pushed me inside.

The inside of her apartment was nice, but it makes me wonder how she can afford the place if she only works at a bookstore. I got into the kitchen first, it has an open area that leads to the living room. The tv was on showing a cartoon of what it looked to be a blue cat. On the kitchen counter, I saw what looked to be a tiramisu. I tried to be strong but I am weak when it comes to a good tiramisu.

I quickly found what I needed, a knife, a spoon, and a plate. I don't think Y/n would notice if it just take one tiny little piece. I got ready to cut and I heard someone say.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I looked up and saw him. Mateo. He was beautiful. He made his way toward one of the couches shaped like an L and sat there. "My mami is very protective over her tirmisu and only lets me eat the tirmisu," he said as he mispronounced the name of the dessert, he then looked at me. "You're the guy from the store."

"You remember me?" I asked hopefully.

"I remember you are the guy from the store," he said like it was the most obvious thing.

"Do you remember my name?"

He was quiet for a second. "No, should I?"

His comment did make me sad for a second but then he let out the biggest gap and came running towards me, he put his arms up. "Lift me up,"

My heart is beating so fast, I lifted him up and secured him in my arms. Up close I could see the freckles on his nose, he looks a lot like me. He looked around the kitchen and then he pointed to the microwave. "Take me there. Go, go." Once I did what he asked, he opened the door of the microwave, and inside was a plate of brownies. He took two pieces out and closed the door. "Okay, put me down. Down" He started to squirm in my arms. Once I put him down on the floor, he looked at the brownies in his hands and gave me the smallest piece. "Thank you for the help" He then ran back to the couch to sit down. In front of him was a coffee table, there was paper and crayons all over it.

"Where's your mommy?" I asked him.

"Probably with Percy," he said, without pulling his eyes away from the TV. Who's Percy?

"Do you wanna see my drawing? My mami says I'm the next Picasso," he left the brownie on one side of the table and got one of the papers. I walked to the couch and saw the paper. It was a big house, 4 figure sticks and a small black figure with four legs. "This is Mami," he pointed at the tall figure stick, "This is my tia Steph," he pointed at the second tall figure stick, probably the woman that let me in, "This is me and my brother," he pointed at the two small figure sticks. Brother? He has a brother? "And this is my dog, and this is my new house, but they are building it right now so we live here."

"This is really good Mateo," I complimented him, but my thought are on the brother he mentioned.

"I know, you can have it. I'll sign it for you. Mami says I have to sign all my art so people know I made it," he explained as he grabbed the black crayon.

"Your mom is a smart woman,"

"How do you know mami?" he asked. "If you are the bad man that wants to take me away from mami I won't let you have the drawing. I don't like bad people that want to hurt mami."

"I'm not bad, I promise. I'm a nice person."

"Okay!" He wrote his name on the paper and then grabbed his brownie. "Are you my papi?" he looked at me.

"What?" my eyes widen.

"Yes. Are you my papi? If you're not bad, and you know my mom, then are you my daddy?"

How is this four-year-old so smart and how do I even respond to that? Before I could say anything, someone interrupted me. "Mati! Come here so I can put sunscreen on your pretty face." He got off the couch and went running into the hallway.

I grabbed the paper and stared at it. Did she have another child with someone else after me?

Y/n's POV

Mateo came running into the bathroom and the first thing he did was rub his face against Percy and give him kisses. "No, Mateo no beses al perro, mi amor. Ahora te tengo que lavar la cara otra vez." (No, Mateo, don't kiss the god, my love. Now I have to wash your face again.)

"Percy es tan tierno que solo le quiero dar besitos, mami" (Percy is so cute that I only want to give him kisses)

"Well you are cute too and you don't see me giving you kisses all do time," I said as I washed his face.

"You do give me kisses Mommy." he laughed.

"Alright, that's enough. I'm going to put sunscreen on you." I put sunscreen on my three fingers. "Where do we put sunscreen?"

"On the faceeeee" he said. "On the neeeeeck, y en las orejaaaas" (in the ears) I laughed at the way he explained it. Once I was done putting on the sunscreen, we both walked out of the bathroom and into the living room.

I started to open the curtains.

"Mami this man tried to eat your tirmisu" Mateo said. I turned around and saw Charles sitting on my couch with a brownie on his lips, just frozen, like when Mateo gets caught doing something he shouldn't.

As he was chewing, he said, "I um- I was, Wow these brownies are good. I didn't eat your tiramisu."

"So you eat my brownies instead?" I asked.

"NO no, no. Mateo gave me one."

That wasn't surprising. "Who is he?" Mateo asked.

"He is a friend," I said. "He is going away soon so he's going to hang out with us for some days. Do you like that?"

"Okay! Then he has to meet Percy!" he ran off to the hallway again. I looked at Charles.

He looked like he wanted to tell me a lot of stuff, and ask me a bunch of questions.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Um, maybe like 10 minutes? Your friend let me in and then Mateo got me the brownie and this drawing," he showed me the paper. It was all of us, the house, Steph and I, my two babies, and my dog. "You look really pretty, by the way. Your boyfriend must be very lucky," Boyfriend? "I thought you only had Mateo, you didn't mention having a second child," he murmured the last part as he ate the last piece of the brownie. He thinks...

Before I could answer, Mateo came running back, "Look! This is my little dog, Percy!" Little is an understatement since Percy is a four-year-old Rottweiler. When the dog came into the living room, Charles got up and backed away.

"Mateo, I don't think Charles likes Percy." I told him.

"Why not?" he looked at Charles while his lips quivered.

"No, no. I love Percy! Percy is a good boy!" I know he wouldn't dare to pet the dog.

"Mati, grab your bag, we have to go." As he walked back to his room, Charles said.

"Did you name your dog Percy as in Perceval?"

"Don't flatter yourself, I named him after a book character."

At the end of the day, Mateo was tired. Reasonable. He was very entertained by all of the stuff the museum had to offer. But one moment kept replaying in my head.

My phone went off, remaining me to reapply sunscreen on Mateo, as I was applying some on his face I saw Charles, and how his face was a bit red.

"Do you not wear sunscreen?" I asked him.

He shrugged, "Only when I'm on the beach," he responded.

I gasped, and for a moment my mother self kicked in, "Charles, your face is red. Jesus, come here," Once he got close to me, I put the sunscreen on three of his fingers so he could apply it himself. He rubbed the sunscreen on his hands and started to rub it on his face.

"Acaso eres un animal?" (Are you an animal?) I told him as I stopped him from doing more damage to his skin. "You can't rub your face like that," I explained as I spread the sunscreen on his face, "You put on your face, on your neck y en las orejas," (and the ears) I murmured. Once I was done, I realized what I did and how close we were to each other.

“Is he going to meet Jules?” Mateo came out of nowhere.

We visit Jules every week, I was planning to visit him once the day was over with Charles.

“Who’s Jules?” Charles asked.

“He’s my brother!”

I looked at Charles for a second. He has no idea he’s one step closer to the truth, at least a part of it.

Friday 21st

I had everything ready for the visit to Jules. I prepared some sandwiches and fruit to eat. The favorite snacks for Mateo and Percy.

I loaded everything into the car, Mateo was in his baby seat with the window rolled down and I was waiting outside the car for Charles to appear. For being a Formula One driver, he is very late right now.

“Well, I guess he’s not going to come. Maybe next time.” I told my son and his face deflated, I, on the other hand, am very happy, but that didn’t last long because Mateo pointed and something behind me.

“He’s here!” I turned around and saw Charles with a visible line of sweat on his forehead.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he said.

“Don’t make it a habit,” I responded. I opened the passenger seat and said, “Get in.” He approached the door and I placed my hand on his chest to stop him. “Wasn’t talking to you,” I smirked, he looked down and saw Percy get into the seat. “You go in the back,”

He didn’t say anything and simply did what I said.

The drive wasn’t bad, Charles got to find out more stuff about Mateo. I, on the other hand, became more nervous the more we got closer to our destination.

Once we got to our destination, confusion was obvious on Charles’ face.

“Why are we-”

“To see Jules,” I responded as I got out of the car, Charles following suit.

I went to the back of the car and open the truck, I gave Charles the picnic basket. I opened the back seat door and took Mateo out of the car seat and set him down. I opened the passenger seat and got Percy out of the car. With my left hand, I was holding Mateo’s hand and with my right hand, I had the dog’s leash. I locked the car and we began walking.

Charles hasn’t said anything yet, maybe he’s confused or maybe he’s just trying to process. After walking for an eternity, even though it was like seven minutes, Mateo let go of my hand and ran to our spot. I took Percy out of the leash and he went to be next to Mateo.

As I was walking I turned around and saw Charles stuck to the floor.

“Are you coming?” I asked, “I need the blanket that’s on the basket so we can sit down,” I continued walking.

Charles’ POV

Jules Alexander Y/L/N

6th November 2018

Loved Son and Brother.

Ahora eres una estrella mas en el cielo (now you are one more star in the sky)

Y/n didn’t have a boyfriend or a son with someone else. She had twins and she lost one. I had twins and I lost one. I didn’t know it was possible for my heart to break even more.

I left her alone during this horrible time.

“Look, Jules! We brought a friend. His name is Sharls,” Mateo said excitedly to the tombstone. “We got you floweeeers, and we have shanweches to eat,” he explained. Y/n was busy setting up the blanket and taking everything out of the basket. I didn’t dare to speak, if I did I would start crying. How much has this woman handled?

“Mi principe, porque no vas tu y Percy a jugar un ratito while Charles and I talk for a moment, okay?” (My prince, why don’t you and Percy go play for a bit) Y/n said. The kid nodded and ran with Percy somewhere a bit far but still close enough so we can see them.

I sat down next to her, still not able to speak. “Jules was the second one to come out,” she said. “There were some complications when I gave birth to him. He passed away thirty minutes after being born. He was only alive for thirty minutes and I wasn’t even able to hold him. Originally Mateo was supposed to be Mateo Agustin, but then Jules died so I changed his name to Mateo Alexander Jules. Alexander Agustin Y/L/N was my father,” She explained.

“And Jules?” I dared to ask, my voice breaking.

“I may not know much about you, or your family, but I know about Jules Bianchi,” she said. “I got Percy two months later. Percy was born on the same day. I thought it was a sign,”

“What about your family?” I asked her.

She laughed humorlessly, “This is my family. Steph, my son, and my dog. My parents died in a car accident, then I came to Monaco to start again. Getting knocked up wasn’t part of the plan, especially when the father can die the same way my parents did. I wasn’t expecting you to be an asshole either,”

With tears in my eyes, I said, “I am so sorry. I-”

“Yeah, me too”

Y/N’s POV

After he calmed down, I called Mateo back so we can eat. Everything was great until Charles asked me a question.

“Do you guys want to go on my boat tomorrow? Spend the day at sea?” I stopped eating and Mateo gasped loudly.

“Can we, mami?!”

One thing about me is that I am utterly terrified of the ocean. “No,” I said as I continued eating.

“Mami, please, please. I’ll be good, I promise,”

“I’m not going to be able to go with you baby,” I said.

“Why not?” he asked.

I looked at Charles, who also had concern in his eyes. “Well, mommy has this fear of the ocean, and she doesn’t feel well, so she has to stay,” I tried to explain to him.

I looked at Charles, who also had concern in his eyes. “Well, Mommy has this fear of the ocean, and she doesn’t feel well, so she has to stay,” I tried to explain to him. I could tell Charles wanted to say something but he didn’t dare. “If Charles promises to take great great GREAT care of you, then you can go with him,”

“Sharls! Take care of me so I can go!” Mateo yelled excitedly.

“Yes! Okay! Yes, I promise,” he assured me.

On the way back to the car, I pulled Charles aside and told him. “I am trusting you with my life. Don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t. I promise,”

“Was I stupid to trust Charles into taking care of Mateo?” I asked Steph.

“No, girl. You did the right thing. He’s going to be responsable of Mateo sooner or later,” I didn’t want to admit that she was right.

I looked at the list I made for Charles so he can take care of Mateo. There’s only three things to follow.

i - mateo will complain about the weather no matter what

ii - he doesn’t like sodas but loves orange and cherry juices, loves chicken but hates seafood.

iii - don’t forget to reapply his sunscreen, don’t loose the bottle.

“Am I missing anything else?” I asked. Steph took the note and read it.

“Why don’t you just send it on a text? What if he looses the paper?” She asked.

“If he doesn’t loose the paper then he’s not going to loose my child,” I responded.

“Fair enough. I think you got it all cover. That’s pretty much it - I mean, I thought the whole point was for him to get to know Mateo on his own. Why are you making him a list?” Why am I making him a list?

I crumbled the paper into a ball and thew it at her. “I have to get Mati ready to bath. I’ll be back,” I got up from the chair.

“Wait! I forgot to tell you, a cute guy passed by the bookstore, asking about you,” she wiggled her eyebrows up and down, “His name is Arthuuuuur," I know who she was talking about. "I gave him your phone number. I told him you are free tomorrow so you guys can go on a date,” she giggled.

I rolled my eyes and left the living room and went to the bathroom to get the water running. “Mateo,” I yelled, “time to take a shower,” I approached his room, once I opened the door, I saw him playing with his toys, “Come on, little guy. Gotta get you nice and clean for tomorrow,” I waited for him to get up and grabbed his hand.

Mateo is not the best singer, he’s just a kid, but he likes to sing in the shower. Once I was done with his shower, I wrapped him in a towel and carry him to his room, while I was getting his pijama ready, he started to jump on his bed.

“Mami, I have a question,” he said.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Is Sharls my daddy?” I stopped for a second and looked at him.

“Why do you ask that, love?”

“Well, he looks like me,” I laughed at his explanation.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm”

“So just because he looks like you, you think he’s your daddy?”

“Well…” he stopped jumping and his gaze fell on the floor. It looked as if the hamster in his brain was turning the wheel. “Where is my daddy?”

I sighed. Do I lie? Do I tell the truth? Am I ready for my kid to know the reality of what happen?

I texted Charles a little but after my shower.

To CL: He knows.

I heard a pin instantly. I thought it was Charles texting back but instead it was an unknown number, my eyes widen once reading the message.

From +377 3847502839: hey, this is Arthur. i hope this isn’t weird, i asked for your number to one of the girls from the store. i heard you’re free tomorrow and i want to invite you to some coffee.

From +377 3847501839: if that’s okay with you of course.

I added his phone on my contacts and replied “Not weird at all. I’d like to have coffee with you” I smiled a bit.

From Arthur Cute Guy: great! see you tomorrow then ;)

To say Mateo was excited was an underestimate, he was thrilled to spend the day with Charles. Once he got home, Mateo jumped into his arms and I think I saw his eyes tear up a bit.

“Well,” I cleared my throat. Charles put Mateo on the floor, to pay attention to me. “I have his bag ready with towel and clothes,” I passed him his bad, which he was quick to put on his shoulder. “Have fun, and please, please don’t forget to put sunscreen on him every two hours. It’s in the front pocket of the bag. He can only use that sunscreen so for the love of god don’t lose it,”

“I won’t.” he said.

“Okay,” I let a long breath out, “Well, have fun,”

Mateo was tugging Charles by the arm, “Come on Sharls we have so much to talk!” I closed the door behind then and ran to my bedroom to get ready for my date.

“Thank you for meeting me here,” Arthur greeted me with two kisses. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind,”

“That’s very bold of you to say,” I giggled. I looked at the menu, “Have you been to this Cafe?”

“A few times, they have good pastries,” he said.

“Do they have a good tiramisu?” I asked as I looked at him, I feel like I have seen him before, like if I met him before our first encounter. He reminds me of someone, but who?

“It’s good, but it’s not the best,” he told me, “I heard this popular restaurant L’Incantato,” I perked up at the name, “has the best tiramisu.”

Curiosity got the best of me, “Have you tried it?”

He made a disappointed face, “I wish. You would think that just because there’s three restaurants in Monaco that there would be any availability in any of them but no, it’s always packed. I can never get a reservation. I wanted to take my mom for her birthday last year but couldn’t get a seat, unfortunately.”

I know the restaurant is always busy, and I felt a bit sad to hear he couldn’t take his mother to eat there. He’s very sweet. “Well, next time you go there. Tell them I sent you,” I winked at him.

“What, why?” he asked.

“You thought I would just own a bookstore? I also own all three L’Incatato restaurants,�� I smiled, his eyes got so big I was wondering if they would come out of the sockets.

“No way!” he laughed, “What are the odds?” I shrugged. “What else do I need to know about you?” he smiled.

“Let’s get coffee first,” I said.

Charles’ POV

Everything was quiet.

All I could hear was the sound of the waves.

I felt at piece.

The piece was interrupted by the alarm going off from my phone. I turned it off and looked at Mateo, “Sunscreen time,” I said. He got up from his chair and walked to me. I looked around me but I couldn’t find the sunscreen anywhere. Where did I put it? “I can’t find the sunscreen,”

“Oh-oh,” he said.

“I think I have another sunscreen around, wait here,” I got up from my chair and looked into one of the compartments of the yacht until I found one sunscreen, I went back to Mateo and opened the cap.

“I don’t use that sunscreen,”

“I can’t find your sunscreen so we have to use this one,” I explained. I put some on my fingers and applied it into his face, gently.

“It smells funny,” he giggled. I did as well.

As I blended the sunscreen into his face I said, “What do you think your maman is doing?”

“What’s maman?” he asked.

I laughed a bit, “your mom,”

“Oh!” he shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably on her date.” I stopped for a second. “Hey, why did you stop?”

“Your mom is on a date?” I asked.

“Mmhm,” he nodded. “I heard Tia Steph talking about it. My mom sounded very excited,”

Y/n is on a date? “And do you know who he is?” he nodded. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

I smiled for a bit but I was so confused. “What- but you just-”

“My face feels funny,” he scratched his cheek, “its itchy and burning,” my smile started to fade.

His face was becoming very red. I have to call Y/n

Y/N’s POV

“So let’s see if I understand,” Arthur said. “You own a bookstore,” he counted with his finger and I nodded, “You own one of the most successful restaurants in Monaco,”

“And Italy,” I added

“And Italy!” he said, adding a finger to his count. “You are a bestseller author,” I nodded. “Your parents were also authors and they were like the Stephen King of murder mystery books,”

“Mhmm,”

“Wow,” he let out, “Simply wow. You amaze me.” I laughed. “No no, truly. You are incredible. You are too perfect,”

“Oh no! I am far from perfect. I also have a son,” I said slowly. “His name is Mateo. He likes to said Mateo with one T after the daycare wrote it with two T’s” I laughed a bit. “He’s very special to me.” Arthur had an intense look on his face, like paying attention to all the words I am saying. As if whatever I was saying matter to him. “You would like him, he’s very smart for his age.

“He sounds amazing, just like you,” he smiled.

“Here,” I pulled up my phone. “Let me show you a picture,” just as I was about to show him one of the newest picture I took of him, eating the naughty brownies, I got an incoming call from Charles. “Sorry, I have to take this call,” I apologized.

“No, no. Go ahead,”

I thanked him and answered the phone, “Hello Cha-”

“Y/N something is Mateo on his face,”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I don't know! His face is all red and he says it’s itching. He’s crying and I don’t know what to do, please” In the background I could hear Mateo crying. My heart broken a little, I knew what was happening.

“Wash his face and keep him under the sade if possible, bring him to me now. This play date is over,” I hung up the phone and looked at Arthur, there was concern in his face.

“Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea for my kid to spend time with his father, and now he got an allergic reaction, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have to get going,” he felt bad having to leave like that.

“Don’t apologize, I understand. I might not know the entire situation but from what you just said, it sounds like the father of your kid is a bad father,” he said.

“Thank you for understanding,” I didn’t deny what he said because I don’t really know how Charles is as a father.

“Please let me know how your kid is doing and if you need to talk, I’m just one phonecall away,” we said our goodbyes and I rushed to my car to get to my apartment. Once I got there, I got the aloe vera out of the freezer and got the aquaphor ready. Once I cut and slided the aloe vera, I put it was in the freezer.

A little over an hour, Charles got home with Mateo in his arms, who was still crying, and the backpack I gave him on his shoulders.

Once he saw me he yelled, “Mamiiiii” he extended his arms towards me.

“Ven aqui, mi amor, (come here, my love)” I carried him in my arms to the kitchen and sat him on the kitchen counter, I took out the aloe vera from the fridge and said, “This is going to make you feel better, okay?” he nodded as he scratched his eye with his fist, I pulled his hand out immediately. “You can’t do that Mateo. Youre gonna make it worse.” I put the aloe vera all over his face.

“Why would he do that?” he asked. “I thought you loved me,” he looked at something behind me. I turned around and saw Charles standing behind us, bewildered after what Mateo said. He was only wearing his swimsuit, but none of that really matter now. He had the most sad face I have every seen. “But you don’t love me, that’s why you left me! You are mean! You are a mean dad! I hate you and I don’t wanna see you again!” he yelled.

“Mateo, calm down, let’s get you in the shower. You need to rest.” I carried him in my arms again. Before I got out of the I turned to Charles and lipped a small ‘wait here’

I gave Mateo a quick bath under cold water, put his pijamas on and applied the aquaphor and aloe vera on his face, I brough one of the fans close to his face.

“Are you okay now?” I asked him.

His green eyes were red from crying. “Mami, am I going to be okay? Am i gonna die?”

“No, mi amor. You are just having a reaction, nothing bad. You’re going to be okay in a few day,” I reassure him. “Now I need you to sleep. I’ll be checking up on you.” he nodded and closed his eyes.

I got out of the room and saw Charles pacing back and forth. “He’s fine,” I said, my voice made him stop and look at me, “What happened to the sunscreen I gave you?”

“I lost it, so I put another instead.” He took out the sunscreen out of Mateo’s bag.

I took the sunscreen in my hands and examined the product. “You put a chemical sunscreen on his face,” I looked at him. “Mateo has extreme sensitive skin, he can’t use this type of sunscreen.”

His eyes widen after that, “Why didn’t you tell me that?! I should’ve known that!”

“Charles, I gave you one rule, just one. It was so simple. ‘Don’t lose the sunscreen’ that’s all.” I looked at the sunscreen again. “For fucks sake Charles, this sunscreen is expired too!” I threw the sunscreen at him, “Are you out of your mind? What is wrong with you?” I sighed. “Just… Go home,” I told him.

“I-”

“Go!” he looked at me in the eyes and I knew he regretted everything that happened today. He nodded and left the apartment.

I let myself drop on the couch, and fell asleep there. When I woke up, it was dark outside and Steph has just got home, I told hereverything that happened.

“Mati said a lot of bad stuff to him, I thought Charles was going to cry on the spot,” I told her.

“This kind of stuff could’ve happen to anyone, it’s nobody’s fault,” she said. Although I wanted to believe her I though that maybe I should’ve told him about Mateo’s situation. “I’m going to check on Mateo, you go to rest.”

I got up from the couch, and stretched a bit. “Thank you, Steph.” I gave her a tight-lipped smile and made my way to my room.

Monday’s are always difficult with Mateo. He never wants to get up, and just wants to keep sleeping.

“Mateo you are not going to school,” I said as I tried to drag him out of bed, “I just need to face your face and then you can go back to sleep!”

“I’m not going to school?” He got up and and started jumping on the bed, “Yes! Yes! That means I can hang out with Sharls more! Yes! Yes! Ye-” he stopped jumping and started at the wall. He gasped and covered his mouth with both of his hands, he turned to look at me. His eyes were less puffy and started to peel but his face was still red.

I got in front of him and pulled his hands away from his mouth. His lips started to quiver. He hugged me so fast and so tight I always fell back “Mami I was so mean to him. I told him I hate him but I don’t hate him, and now I’ll never see him again,” he was crying so hard on my neck. I pulled him away from me and dried his tears.

“Mateo I cannot have you crying right now, it’s not gonna be good for your face.” I pulled his hair out of his face, “Charles is busy today,” I lied, but I don’t think I’m ready to see him yet after yesterday, “But we can call him later on and you can talk to him and tell him you didn’t mean what you said, okay?” Mateo nodded, more calmed this time. “Okay, let’s go wash your face,”

I love spending my days with Mateo, when we are just hanging out in the couch and we cuddle and he falls asleep in my arms. It reminds me when he was a tiny baby.

We are cuddling on the big couch while watching Doraemon, a cartoon I saw while growing up. I heard Mateo murmur something I didn’t quite understand.

“What did you say baby?”

“I said you are my mommy and I love you so much,” he looked at me.

“Yes baby I know,” I giggled.

Mateo sat on the couch. “No mami, you have to say it baaack,”

“Say what back?” I laughed.

“You have to say that you love me too!” He pushed me a bit, he got on top of me and gave kisses.

“No Mateo, your face!” I laughed now. “Okay, okay. Fine I love you!” He stopped and smiled.

I was very tempted to text Charles and let him know about Mateo. I looked at the time, 6:32pm. I think that’s a good time to call him.

“Mateo do you wanna call Charles now?” I asked him. He looked down at his lap and then at me again. I could tell he was being shy now. “I’ll be there with you,” I told him, this time he nodded. I put my phone out and press the phone button, I looked for his name and press call, at the second ring he answered.

“Y/n?”

“Hey…”

“How’s Mateo? Is he okay?” I could clearly hear the concern in his voice.

“Mateo is fine, he’s getting better,” I looked at my son for a second, “He actually wants to talk to you, I’m going to put you on speaker, hold on.” I moved the phone out of my face and put the call on speaker, I moved the phone towards my son.

“Hi Sharls…” his voice was small.

“Hello Mateo, your maman says you are doing better,”

“Yes…”

At the other line, Charles let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to take good care of you. I never wanted to hurt you”

Mateo’s lip started to tremble, “I didn’t mean the stuff I said to you yesterday. I was very mean, I’m sorry,”

“I forgive you, Mati,”

“No, you can’t call me that, only mommy calls me that,” he was quick to say.

“Mateo!” I said.

“Okay, you can call me Mati,” Charles laughed through the phone.

“Y/n, can I talk to you?” I pulled the phone back and told Mateo to get the cream and aloe vera to apply it to his face again, after he left the living to get the stuff I took the phone out of speaker.

“Yes?”

“Is it okay to still have the dinner with my family tomorrow?” Tomorrow is the last day. The day next day Charles is leaving to go to the Baku GP.

“Yes, I thought that’s what we agreed on. How many are you guys?”

“Ehh… It’s me, my mum and my two brothers,” he said.

“Okay, you can be here around seven or eight,” I told him.

“Okay, then I’ll see you tomorrow, say goodnight to Mateo for me,”

“Alright, bye.” I hang up.

I got everything ready, I got catering from the restaurant. I have the table ready.

Steph came out with Mateo next to her, once she saw me, she stopped walking and covered Mateo’s ears.

“Girl, you look so hot,” I was wearing a black satin dress and low shoes.

“Really? I think it’s too much, I have to go change.” Just as I took one step, I heard a knock on the door.

“No can do, ma’am. You have guests outside.” She let go of Mateo and pushed me towards the door. “Now be a nice hostess and open the door,” after she said that, she made her way into the kitchen.

I took a deep breath, fixed my dress a bit, and then opened the door, but this wasn’t exactly who I expected to see on the other side.

“Pascale?”

“Y/n?” she asked.

“Maman?” Charles asked.

“Maman?!” I asked.

“Y/n?” Charles asked again.

“Charles, you’re…” Pascale started. She looked at me, and then at Charles. She knows the truth about everything. I feel my eyes burning. What the actual fuck is going on? Can this get any worse? A little far back, I could hear the voice of two guys speaking French.

“Y/n, you know my mom?” Charles asked. I think I’m going to puke.

Before I could answer, the two guys got behind Charles, still talking in within themselves. Is that…?

“Arthur?!” The blond guy turned his face so fast. I was wrong, it can and it did get worse. I felt my whole body start to shake. I want to run far far away from this dinner, I want to floor to open a hole and swallow me whole.

“Y/N?” Seeing Arthur next to Charles, I could see the resemblance. The dimples, the smile. His face went pale and his eyes looked at me and then his brother. What are the odds? This can’t be right.

Everyone was in some sort of shock, except for the other guy. He was just confused. He pushed Arthur behind and got in between Pascale and Charles. “I’m Lorenzo, very nice to meet,” He greeted me with two kisses on the cheek.

“Yeah…” I managed to say. “Same…”

What the fuck do I do now?

Author's Note - Please please read.

AHHHHHHHH I hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter. This is the longest chapter I have written so far. This chapter has been so intense for me to write because of how long it is. It has taken me two and a half weeks to write. I would really appreciate to know what you guys thought of the chapter.

I love writing, I love the idea of Una Noche En Monaco a lot, and I really wish I could update more frequent. You guys are so lovely with the messages you sent me. Your comments, your praises and your support on this story is what makes me want to continue to write, truly. I mean the absolute world to me and I want to thank you guys for that. You guys are the best!

I have so many ideas for new stories of Charles that I wish I could be able to tell you. Like the royal!Charles x low class!reader, royal!Charles x royal! reader, Charles x Ferrari driver! reader, and two more that I can't even say.

If you guys let me vent for a bit, these past few weeks have been a bit of a struggle for me because I am not having that much work at my main job because we work with school and if there's no school, then there's no money, and my second job doesn't have events available to work. So I'm kinda jobless which is really really bad because I have tons of bills to pay and Miami is freaking expensive. All of this is freaking me out a bit and I just can't wait for school to start again so I can have work 😭😭

On better news, I have 736 followers! That is a lot! Like if I had one dollar for each follower I have, I would have 736 dollars?! That's a lot! I can't belie the amount of love you guys have given UNEM, you guys are the goat and I am sending a big kiss to each one of you! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

I'm also thinking about creating a discord group so I could let you guys know about future projects, let you know whenever I update and all that jazz. The reason behind it is that tagging can be messy and Tumblr doesn't let me tag more than 50 people, and some tag don't even work? But I know the people are there because I see their likes and comments. So it's confusing. So pls let me know what you think about the discord.

Also I saw my notes app the other day and remember the bulletpoint draft for UNEM and this whole series was going to be COMPLETELY different from what is it lmaoo, should I show it to you guys? 👀

AND TO ALL THE GIRLIES THAT WRITE ABOUT SEBASTIAN VETTEL, TOTO WOLFF AND FERNANDO ALONSO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND PLS UPDATE MORE BC THAT IS MY SOURCE OF LIFE RN SPECIALLY RBR!SEBASTIAN FICS AHHHH

TAGLIST IS CLOSED.

@mac-daddy-210 @infinite-wanders @rbrsavage @itsyogurlkel @bbygrlllllll @nerdreader @imnotcryingyouare1 @killerangel88 @obx-mylove-things-blog @triorion @daniellarogers @insssanemind @bosinclairsgf @rb-danny @shyshva @booksobsess @ogfangirl @ravenqueen27 @masonspulisic @yunnie-f1 @simxican @ushygushybaby @graceverstappen11 @maximoff-xmen @severenswife @ferraribabe @pjofics @harrysdimple05 @mloyer @teti-menchon0604 @imagineadream @tinydancerjj @reidsworld @scentedskydreamer @christianpulisic10 @formulas-bitch @topguncultleader @hc-dutch @moonclaine @miureiz @tall-tanned-tattoo @madisontaxarn @bisexualbith @diasnohibng187 @im-just-here-toread @tyskills @rafaaoli @heavengirls111 @lighttsoutlewis @leclerc13 @c4ssi4-luv @livsans @ynbutbetter @marigoldgasly @vita-di-moda @sbrn0905 @yesshewrites1 @AmsOffTrack @fandomxs1 @ludmisorella @japanesekel @leclercsbae @padfootsiriusorionblackthethird @celestialams @dreamcarsound @bhiees @empathypostsf1 @marauderlover22 @zendayabelova @lord_leclerc @itsmesofia @sebbybucky12 @notleclerc @dicaprio-leo @starkeyellow @spngi @karina-v20 @mskeisha69 @prrttyposts @vex-et-soleil @dessxoxsworld @thesurielscheesecake @btwimmel @67-angelofthelordme-67 @buckleyverse @mickslover @formula1-bichyslut16 @allgaslynobrakess @Rossy1080 @staris23 @CelestialCharles @glitterf1 @f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @buckystwilight @Alionova @btwimmel @thebluegoddess

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miraclewoozi · 11 months

Text

DON'T SWEAT IT. - l.jh

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

Variety.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s when he sees you again.

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?” he questions.

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

“Oh. Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guessed you could,” you say.

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

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

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

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

“Mm. You can tell.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long is too long?” you ask.

“All my life,” he tells you.

“No way?”

“Mm.” A beat. “What about you?”

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n,” you introduce yourself.

“See you around, y/n.”

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He can hazard a guess at your predicament.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How… have you been?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except the obvious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, really. Um… next one’s on me?”

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

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

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

“Yeah. Yeah — I’ll see you, y/n.”

—————

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

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

He absolutely won’t confess to being smitten.

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

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

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

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

jihoon: fine. you’re right.

seokmin: ?

soonyoung: probs true, does need context

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

soonyoung: OH

seokmin: Hahahahahaha

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

soonyoung: fr even chan and hansol know atp lmao

jihoon: they what?

jihoon: how do they know?

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

soonyoung: because we told them?????

seokmin: So, we might have told everyone

jihoon: blocking both of your numbers immediately.

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

seokmin: When do we get to meet her?

jihoon: blocked.

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

At least he’s admitted it now.

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

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

—————

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

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

All this before he even gets to work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” he says. “Um — thank you?”

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

Slim, he decides. But not zero.

There’s hope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You go ahead — I’ve just finished.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How the fuck is he supposed to walk away?

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

——————

That Friday, you finally text him again.

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

y/n: hey :)

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

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

jh: well…

jh: what are you trying to put together?

y/n: a bed :(

y/n: today’s your rest day, right?

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

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

jh: apparently yes, you can.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Any. Fucking. Minute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leans forward and kisses you, instead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm, says you.”

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

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

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

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

So, you do.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I want to.”

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

——————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not important enough,” he sighs.

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

Seungcheol.

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

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

“Take all the time you need.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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pray4byron · 2 months

Note

Hii Mio!!

How are you doing? I hope the Hiatus was good for you! Breaks are good for the metabolism!

I'm really glad you're back,I love your writing!

Speaking of which,here I am with a New prompt-

Could I pretty please have a platonic!child!reader + Husk,Vox,Adam,Alastor,Charlie and Lucifer (Making a big list so you can pick which ones you have more interest in!!) Where the reader is just a traumatized kid who killed to survive when alive,and the characters find the kid stabbing people out of self defense and fear and they just pick them up and take them home because they have nowhere to go? It takes a while for them to adapt to the characters and their new home,and sometimes bad memories hit,they think it's real and they just don't know what's reality or what's just their mind playing tricks on them?

Basically just a Traumatized child with ptsd ToT

So yeah, there you go!!

I hope you enjoy writing this,don't forget to take breaks and drink water!!

Stay proud!! (because I surely am,of you!)

-Nina <33

𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐦, 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫, & 𝐯𝐨𝐱 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝!𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

a/n: heyy nina!! i’m so sorry this took so long haha. i really was struggling with ideas for the others so i took some out sadly :( but i hope it was worth the wait!!

warnings: mentions of murder, mentions of trauma, profanity

𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐦

did not hesitate to take you to his place, heaven was safer than hell, no doubt, but that didn’t mean there weren’t ever sketchy people around

once you told him/found out about your past, he’s firstly surprised you’re even in heaven, and secondly surprised how a small squirt can be such a bad bitch

he takes you under his wing (literally) and will protect you at all costs, he was never too into kids, but you were a special one, and he loved ya like a dad, or something like that.

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫

he’s a dad himself, and he knows first-hand hell isn’t the safest place to not have a room over your head, so he brings you to stay with him while at charlie’s hotel (and everyone feels out about how cute you are!!)

lucifer’s hyper attentive of your needs, he’s taking this as a second chance at being a better father, so he’s found everything he can

when he finds out about your past actions, he’s not surprised you ended up down in hell, just because of heavens closed-mindedness, but he feels bad, cause you were just a kid trying to protect yourself

𝐯𝐨𝐱

when vox first finds you, he promises you a deal, and no, not for your soul!!

if you work as his assistant, he’ll provide you all your needs, and who could say no?

at first he’s a bit tense around you, kids aren’t his thing, and he has a tendency to just hand you over to velvette when he doesn’t know what to do

but after hearing your story from when you were alive, he can’t help but sympathize with you

he tries his best to be as kind to you as he can after that point, but let’s be real, vox isn’t great with those sorts of things

i do not permit for my work to be reposted, translated, or stolen. all rights go to signedmio. characters are not mine, unless stated, and belong to their rightful creators.

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napakmahal · 2 months

Text

Drop your pin

Chat i MIGHT have cooked with this one

This is bad, this is so bad.

Less than two hours ago you left your house to drive over to a nice restaurant in downtown San Fransokyo and now you were pulled over at a gas station parking lot staring at your dreaded flat tire. If you hadn’t turned off your music to take a phone call from your friend mid-drive you probably would have never heard the dreaded: BANG!

What’s even worse is you were running late for your first formal date with a guy you met at an off-campus study site where you worked as a barista. He looked so cute in his little academic grind, so focused you thought his eyebrows were stuck in a permanent scowl. Thankfully, said the boy was studying so hard that he refilled his caffeinated iced tea almost four times and he came up to you. He started the conversation by rubbing his beautiful brown eyes tiredly saying “I am really tired, but I’m trying to stay away from coffee for a little bit.”

And somehow, his voice made him almost ten times more attractive than you originally thought him to be. By the time you finished pouring his tea, he’d complimented everything about you. From the hairstyle, you had dawned that day to how well you did your job. He was perfect and you were so excited for this date.

Until the universe had just to come and ruin it.

Canceling is one thing, but canceling because your tire popped is another. Everyone knows that whenever someone cancels last minute because they’re having ‘car troubles’ actually means ‘I wanted you to get lost from day one and now I have a reason not to see you.’ That and the lame excuse of ‘Oh I’m just really busy this week.’

This is why you can’t help but feel a sense of dread boiling in your stomach while you hear your phone ring and ring, waiting for him to answer. You like this boy, honest. But after this, he may not be so sure.

You swear you can feel your heart drop to the pits of your stomach when you first hear his voice.

“Hi, I’m not there yet. I just turned onto the 5 and-oh shit! Are you already there? I’m so sorry.”

You would laugh if you didn’t feel like crying. “Umm no, I’m not. Tadashi I have some bad news.”

“Uh-oh, what’s up?”

You took a deep breath. “Okay umm, so when I turned onto the highway my right tire popped and now I’m outside this sketchy-looking gas station trying to figure out what to do.”

Silence. All you could hear on his end of the call was the zooming of other cars next to his.

“Tadashi?” You confirmed. “Are you still there? Look I know it sounds like such a lie and I’m sorry. I really was looking forward to going out with you and I feel so bad about-”

“Drop me the pin.” The sound of his voice forced you to have such a visceral and public reaction.

Drop the pin? Like-to him? Why?

“L-Like,” You stuttered. “My pin? Right now?”

“Yeah, your pin.”

So you did. You sent him your GPS pin and waited for a little less than ten minutes. What did he want with your location? Maybe he just wanted to make sure you weren’t lying to him about being at the gas station. He could just never show up. After about seven minutes had passed, a rusty old work truck drove off the exit and into the gas station parking lot. Flashing bright yellow headlights. The truck pulled up almost directly in front of you and for a moment you felt fear. A stranger just coming up to you in a car in a sketchy area while you have no other way of escaping. But that fear dripped away when you saw it was Tadashi who was driving.

“Oh my gosh, hi.” You stared at him, slightly confused but extremely relieved.

He opened the door and walked towards you. “Hey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, but my tire isn’t and I really don’t want to have to pay to get a new one.” You groaned at the thought of dealing with car troubles.

Tadashi squated down with a grunt at your popped tire. “Do you know how to change one of these?”

“Erm, kind of.” You answered honestly. “I don’t know it well enough to try it. I’m too scared to try it on my actual tire.”

He hummed before asking you to pop open your trunk so he could reach in and get your spare. And for the next twenty-two minutes, you watched your date grunt, sigh, groan, and flex all the muscles he had lifting and changing your popped tire. You learned two things in those thirty minutes.

1)That your date is one hell of a handyman and 2) That your date is not only cute but damn is he hot.

When he finished, he stood back up stretching out his limbs and cracking his neck.

“Now, you can’t really drive on a spare for too long so we’ll just go back and change it.” He said as if it were the most nonchalant thing in the world and not an act of pure chivalry.

You, who was almost starstruck at this man practically launched yourself and him in the biggest hug you’ve ever given someone.

You gushed, “Oh! Thank you so much. You’re so sweet!”

Thankfully, he hugged you back. Arms fully wrapped around you and jaw rested on the top of your head. When the two of you let go, he took your phone and put an address in it. One you had never even heard of. A place called the Lucky Cat Café and when you asked all he said was “We’re going there to change your tire.”

So the two of you got back onto the highway and drove backwards from your original date spot. For most of the drive you tried to keep the back of his car in your sights even though you had the GPS on. By the time you’d arrived, the street that the Lucky Cat was located on was practically empty. Everyone and all businesses seemed to be asleep for the night, which is why you both had decided on a place in Downtown San Fransokyo where the city rarely sleeps.

You shut your car door behind you. “What is this place?”

“It’s my aunt’s café, we live on the top. You see?” He pointed at a window in the top of the building with a glowing light through it like someone was home. “So my garage is on the side over there, do you want to just park there and I’ll change your tire.”

Wait he was serious. Like he was full-on going to change your spare tire.

“Seriously?” You double-checked.

Tadashi smiled followed by a light and airy laugh. “Yeah, I’m serious.”

So you drove past the main building and into the rather large alleyway where his garage was. From where you were you could see the garage door that was painted on the sides with traditional Japanese art.

“Did you paint that?” You pointed at the door.

Tadashi fumbled around in his pocket for the garage door key. “Me and my brother worked on it when we were in middle school.”

“So you guys are close?”

Guys that love their families are mad hot.

The door slowly propped open. “Extremely close and- oh. Speak of the devil.”

Sitting inside the garage was a boy who couldn’t have been any older then fifteen on the couch resting flat on his back. Scrolling on his phone and eating a green melon popsicle in white calf socks.

He lifted his head to see the two of you standing in the frame of the garage, large brown eyes that resembled Tadashi’s staring like a deer in headlights.

“Oh shit,” He grunted. “What’s up?”

Tadashi alternated his hand between the two of you. “Hiro this is y/n, y/n this is my little brother Hiro.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Hiro.” You smiled. Tadashi had mentioned him a few times and you’d heard him in the background of some of the FaceTime and regular phone calls you had with Tadashi.

Before he could respond, your date looked around his garage with a look of confusion on his face. “Dude, where are the tires?”

“Behind the dumpster.” Hiro said like it was obvious.

Tadashi rolled his eyes. “The unused ones, dumbass.”

“Oh, side shed.”

Your date excused himself and pulled out his phones flashlight to navigate his way through the dark of the night to his familys storage shed. Leaving you alone with his younger brother who had since put his phone down.

“You’re y/n?”

“Yep.” You popped the ‘p’ rocking back and forth on your feet.

Hiro’s face filled with a sudden smugness. “You know he’s like super into you, right?”

You tried to fight the obvious smile that wanted to come to your face. “Really?”

“Before he left he called all of his friends to make sure he looked good enough to leave the house.” He scoffed at the memory.

Just then, Tadashi came back rolling a brand new tire for your car. He told Hiro to scram before setting it down and grabbing his own tools. The garage itself was crazy, filled with tools, walls of water stained blueprints, chalk drawings, and premade machinery including a 3D printer and two different computers.

While changing your new tire, you took the time to really apologize for the messed up ‘date’ you were having.

“I’m so sorry about this, this is not what I planned at all.” Your voice laced with sincerity.

Tadashi’s face fell into one of fake disbelief as he joked, “You mean you didn’t intentionally pop your own tire so I would come and get you and we had to change it instead of going out to the restaurant we’re both appropriately dressed for?”

You laughed and gently punched him in the arm. “Don’t be an ass.”

“I know, I’m just joking.” He reassured you. “You look really beautiful though, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that before.”

“Aww, thank you. You look half decent as well.”

The two of you laughed as he continued to change your tire. There was a point where the new one he brought out for you had weighed so much he had to take off his dress jacket and lift it up like a deadlift. At his obvious struggle you offered to help but it was pointless.

“No it’s okay I got it.”

“Really?” You asked. “I can help you out. Plus it would teach me for the future.”

“Well when you’re with me, you won’t ever have to change your own tire.” Just as he said it, he regretted it. The two of you hadn’t even really been on a first date, just a few flirty texts and calls. That’s it.

He covered his mouth. “Oh-that’s not- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

To his relief and surprise you laughed in the most adorable way he’d ever heard someone laugh. “It’s okay, that was cute. Really cute.”

“Oh thank god.” He breathed out.

After a couple more flirty conversations and remarks, he’d finally finished installing your new tire and placed the spare back in your car.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” You cooed and kissed him on the cheek.

A warm blush expanded across his face after the kiss your given him as he dizzely responded, “No problem.”

You had your arms hooked around his neck as you both just stared at each other. Tadashi looked down at his watched and hummed.

“You know, they’re still open.” He referred to the restaurant from your original plan.

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. He did all of that for you, and he still wanted to go out?

“Y-you,” You began to stutter in disbelief. “You still want to go out with me.”

“If anything I want to go out with you even more now.” He whispered so low only you could hear. “Do you want to go out with me?”

“Yes.” You whispered back, falling into his dark brown eyes.

He smiled, face getting closer and closer to yours. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Ye-”

Kissing before the first date even starts is unheard of for you. It’s not something you would ever do…normally. But to be fair nothing about that first date was normal. You ran you hands up his jet black hair, lightly pulling at the strands while his hands held yourl ower back. How could making out with someone you hadn’t even gone on a proper date with in the middle of his garage with the door wide open feel so incredibly intimate?

When you two had pulled away all you could do was laugh. What was so funny? You don’t actually know, but something about it had made to so giggly. Face pressed into his chest, laughing.

You two had decided that it seemed like a better idea for Tadashi to drive to two of you downtown and when you opened the passenger seat door there was a large bouquet of pink tulips and daisy fillers on the seat with a calligraphy card with your name on it wrapped in brown paper. You covered your smile with your mouth as you picked up the bouquet.

“I was going to give those to you when we got there.” Tadashi said shyly, embarrassed that he missed the opportunity to give them to you when he pulled up to the gas station parking lot.

All you did was stare at him, endearence in your eyes before kissing that boy straight on the lips another time.

#baymax #big hero 6 #big hero six #tadashi hamada #bh6 x reader #disney #fanfic #tadashi hamada x reader #napakmahal #writing #writers block #hiro hamada #san fransokyo

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babydollmarauders · 7 months

Text

COMFORT — LUKE HUGHES

summary: in which Luke’s girlfriend, y/n (dolly), finds out her comfort person and close friend, Ryan Graves, is going to Pittsburgh

luke’s gf au!

my bottom lip quivers, tears immediately welling in my eyes as the realization sets in.

“w-what?” my voice trembles, the phone shaking in my grip, the unshed tears making the facetime appear blurry.

“i’m sorry, y/n, i really am.” Ryan tells me solemnly, “but this is what’s right for me and my career right now. you understand that, right?”

“mhm.” i hum, blinking past the tears and nodding my head, “no— yeah, i understand. i get it.”

Ryan heaves out a sigh, his eyes soft as he begins speaking again.

“i really enjoyed spending time with you and i’m still so honored that you warmed up to me the way that you did. and this doesn’t mean our friendship is over! you’re still more than welcome to call me when you need someone to talk to, and we’ll see each other when the Penguins and Devils play each other!”

i nod again at his words, trying my hardest to let them relieve my sadness and bring joy to me, but it all still hurts a bit too much for me to see the bright side just yet.

“i just wanted you to hear it directly from me first, Dolly.” he explains, “i don’t want you finding out when the rest of the public finds out. you deserved to be be told beforehand.”

“i’m gonna miss you.” my words are choked, spoken between sniffles, and i quickly rub at my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie.

“i’m gonna miss you too.” he frowns, “and you better tell Bahl that he needs to step up and become your club bodyguard now! i’d say Dougie but…”

i let out a huff of laughter before i finish the sentence with him, “he looks too nice.”

Ryan grins at my slight smile.

“exactly.” he beams. “look, i gotta go. i gotta go in and sign the contract now. but, i’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“okay.” i nod, bidding him a goodbye before he hangs up.

left in the silence, my heart aches.

i didn’t really think of the possibility of Ryan leaving the Devils.

i guess in my head, i always thought of him as a Devil. i never thought about the chance of him becoming anything else.

i crawl up on Luke and i’s bed, burrowing myself in a mountain of blankets and pillows; curling up on my side and just staring ahead at the wall.

Ryan was, dare i say, the person on the team that i was closest to beside my boyfriend and his brother.

ever since we met, early in the season when i had visited Jack, and i had felt the comforting energy that he gave off, he looked out for me. he stuck by my side when the team went out to bars and clubs; warding off any highly unwanted male attention, glowering at any sketchy guys that dared to come near me.

it was never unusual to find him in Luke, Jack, and i’s living room, allowing me to paint his fingernails black as i talked his ear off about how my classes were dragging me down or telling him about the new true crime case i had heard of on my podcasts.

he was my platonic person. and now he’s gonna be gone. signing with the Pittsburgh Penguins at this very moment.

i was lost within my own head. the room eerily quiet, making it hard to miss the creak of the bedroom door.

i turn over in the bed, finding my boyfriend in the doorway, staring back at me with pity filled eyes.

“Ryan texted me.” it was in that moment that my reserve vanished. my walls broke down and my tears came pouring out, unable to be kept in any longer.

“Dolly, i’m sorry.” Luke crawls into the bed, pulling me into his chest. his hand holds the back of my head, the other rubbing circles on my back. “let it out, baby. i’m here for you. i’m right here.”

my tears soak into his black t-shirt, making it damp, but he doesn’t seem to care, only pulling me tighter to him.

i lose track of how long we lay there, Luke allowing me to cry into his chest until i’ve run out of tears.

“do you wanna talk about it, baby?” i shake my head against him, not quite ready to discuss my friend leaving. “okay. that’s okay, you don’t have to talk until your ready.”

i let out a whine, burying my head further up and into his neck.

the door creaks open once more, and i peek an eye open, retreating from my boyfriend just slightly to see his middle brothers head pop into the room. at the sight before him, Jack winces, his gaze softening.

“i just saw the news. i wanted to check on Dolly.” he whispers, his words aimed at his younger brother, as i’ve already moved back into my position in the crook of Luke’s neck.

“she’s not taking it very well.” Luke whisper’s back, “which is completely valid and i wouldn’t expect this to be any easier.”

those words are spoken into my hair, directed at me; reassuring me that my emotions are not dramatic, but rather understood and logical.

the door shuts, footsteps getting closer before i feel my side of the bed dip, a hand coming up to rub back while Luke’s hand stops to hold my hip.

“i’m really sorry, Dolly.” Jack’s voice comes from behind me. “you still have me, and Luke, and Dawson, John, Nico, Dougie, Bratter, i can keep going.

“we’re here and we’re not going anywhere. Ryan had to take a different path, and i’m really sorry about that, but i know he’s still there for you to call if you need him, right?”

i nod my head, my nose brushing against Luke’s neck.

“exactly. he’s not gone completely. just, not in Jersey anymore. and that’s what’s best for him and his career.”

i let Jack’s words sink in. pulling away from my boyfriend, i press a kiss to his cheek, him giving me a soft smile in return, before i turn and hug Jack; thanking him for his comfort.

i have my other best friends. it’s gonna be okay.

#luke’s gf au !#luke hughes x reader

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dante-mightdie · 5 months

Note

You mentioned bluecollar!simon would do some sketchy shit to make money when needed, out of morbid curiosity, what sort of stuff?

After reading that ask about Simon getting laid off it got me thinking

Even though your working full-time now to support the both you and Simon, you’re nowhere near making the same amount of money Simon was when he was working full time (idk I imagine reader having a job at like a petrol station behind the contour, it’s sketchy, the customers are sketchy and the pay is shit but at the end of the day it’s all that’s she’s got)

It’s getting to the point where you both are having to eat less/not until your satisfied but you can’t afford a weeks worth of food as well as water, electricity, rent, petrol, ect,ect,ect so you both just have to do the best with what you’ve got at the moment

Like you said, Simon is a very proud man and watching the love of his life have to eat as little as possible, shower as fast as possible and not use the heater because they can’t afford it breaks, not just his heart, but his ego

When reader first met him she made him swear up and down that he would stop doing sketchy shit for money, she helped him get away from those people who were leading him down the wrong track and made sure he didn’t get himself in trouble. So he started making money in a more adorable way, but now times are tough and feels as that he has no choice

He could feel their relationship start slowly falling apart and he just could have that so he called up one of this old sketchy mates to help him get back into making money like he used to

Of course he does this behind readers back because he swore to her he would never go back!! But what else was he meant to do? Let his sweetheart suffer? Watch her work herself to death 7 days a week 12 hours a day and do nothing? His a provider, his a problem solver and he’ll be damned if he lets down his baby in a time of need

He starts doing his sketchy job again, telling reader his just picked up some good contract work from an old friend that “owed him for a favour”

The money starts coming in and it’s good, really good actually. Bills are being payed mostly by him again, food is not really an issue anymore and his almost back to where he was before he got laid off. Reader and his relationship is back on track, no more big stresses or arguments anymore. Life is good

But it’s so so so hard for him to go back to normal blue collar work, his making a little more money now then he was working out in the elements sweating with aching muscles. OH and on the construction site AS WELL AS went behind readers back and continued his side hustle!! GOD HE WOULD BE SWIMMING IN IT!!!

Aghhhhh it’s so hard for him all he wants his for his beautiful baby to have the life she deserves, he would never want to break her trust but god just the thought of living somewhat comfortably financially makes his heart flutter.

I would LOVE to hear your take on that if you have the time. His so unethical but it’s from the heart. All he wants is for you to live happily and comfortably. Your worry’s only being what warm dinner to put on the table for when he gets home and if you should put the white loads or the dark loads on first in the washing machine.

Personally I think his sketchy gig world probably have to do with dealing some illegal substances, I know it’s a stereotype that blue-collar works use substances, idk but it definitely is in my country. But yeah I could imagine him liking to indulge before he met reader as well. SORRY IM RAMBLING BUT YEAH LOVE YOU HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS

- 🎀

listen listen he is 100% a fucking weed dealer

content warning: weed, drug-dealing, illegal activities, mentions of guns...

used to deal it to the lads on the site before he met you. was only something he did for a bit of extra cash but it spiraled and he was getting in to deep to that lifestyle. started dating you and decided it was time to get out of that life after you a found a gun in his flat...

hated the scared look on your face as you stared down at the weapon in your hand never wants to see you that exposed to that kind of lifestyle again. so he dropped out. got a steady job, moved in with you, living an honest life...

but then he got laid off and he was desperate...

started selling weed again, maybe even started smoking it again to deal with the stress. and he can't deny it's nice to be able to spoil you again, bring you home little treats and presents, small date nights...

being able to take all the stress away from you made the risk worth it. no longer having to deal with hearing you crying in the bathroom because you're stressed about which bills you can pay this month eased the pain in his chest

and once he goes back to having a steady construction job again, he can't help but enjoy the extra spending money. actually being able to put money into a separate savings account, even starts looking at engagement rings and getting a bigger flat...

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #bluecollar!simon

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gamergirl-niffler · 5 months

Note

Very very urgent emergency request! Just stumbled upon your blog after that fluffy Howl fic of yours; couldn't resist sticking around for more of your fantastic headcanons.

I recently experienced something truly awful a few days ago.. While enjoying a party with my friends, the atmosphere suddenly shifted, and I began feeling unwell. Since then, there's been a blank space in my memory. The following day, upon waking up in our shared apartment, I discovered that I must have experienced a sex*** abuse. I'm currently terrified, in pain, and enduring ongoing bleeding from my private area. Trust has become a challenge, and I'm overwhelmed, wishing I could just disappear. Unsure of what steps to take, I find myself reaching out for comfort of any, any kind.. May I humbly request comfort from Dabi, Bakugo, Enji, Todoroki, and Kaminari, along with their girlfriends, who have navigated similar challenges?

If this plea is too much, please feel free to disregard it. I deeply appreciate your writings, as they bring immense comfort to many.

Oh, my dear Anon...

I am so sorry to hear that something like this happened to you. I can only imagine what you feel right now.

Please, if you feel like you need to talk to someone, feel free to drop into my messages and let's chat a little!

I hope those headcanon will bring you at least a little bit of comfort.

Mha men & sexually abused s/o

Dabi

- Dabi is burning with anger. Of course he isn't mad at you, he is mad at the person who even dared to violate you this way.

- He should stay with you but he leaves. Of course he couldn't stay. Touya doesn't leave you because of the disgust or hate. No. He is going for a hunt! It doesn't matter if it's one or a few people... All police could find were few bodies burned beyond recognition.

- Touya returns to your shared apartment, sheds his coat and is all yours from now on. He doesn't speak a word about what happened unless you feel the need to talk about it. He won't press but will listen when you need to throw it all out.

- He knows some doctors that aren't sketchy but at the same time they won't call the police or anything like this.

- Even if you are scared, Touya pushes you to get checked. He of course stays with you to provide comfort and show you that you are safe with him. Touya knows you are suffering mentally but he doesn't want the physical suffering to continue if there is a way to stop/heal it.

- Back at home Touya stays near you. He wishes he could be glued to you but he understands you need some space.

- When you tell him you need any kind of closeness - he is there immediately, wrapping you in his embrace, holding you as close as possible.

- It takes you a bit of a time to open up to him. You tell him everything; and he listens to it without a word.

When you start to cry he just squeezes you harder until you calm down. Once this happens, Touya starts to tell you, "I'm sorry, doll. I am sorry I wasn't there to protect you but from now on... I will always be near. No one will ever hurt you again. I love you and I'll make sure to help you however I can."

- And he really does it. Since that unfortunate day, Touya does everything to make you feel safe and to help you heal; both mentally and physically.

He doesn't push your boundaries but helps you carefully move them as you heal and again open yourself up to him.

Touya never healed himself from his past so seeing you getting better even after such a scary situation makes this villain smile.

Bakugo

- He is pissed but he won't show it openly. You went through enough stress already and his anger wouldn't help someone in your position so he stops himself from yelling.

- Bakugo doesn't immediately push you to talk. He is more concerned about your health so his first step is to convince you to visit a proper specialist. He doesn't want you to be in pain or to suffer.

When you finally agree to visit the doctor, you are going there with your blond guard dog because Katsuki isn't leaving your side. He will even fight the doctor if it means staying by your side through the visit.

- Back at home, Bakugo is completely different than normal. He is calm and quiet around you.

- If he decides to give you a kiss, hug or simply get close to you he'll ask for your permission beforehand. Just to be sure you are comfortable with him and his touch.

- If you are on any medications he makes sure you take them, it's for your own good afterall.

- Katsuki makes sure to provide comfort in every way possible. He cooks or orders your favorite comfort food so the two of you can enjoy some tasty food together.

- When you feel comfortable enough to open up about what happened, Katsuki just pulls you into a tight hug. "It's okay now. You're safe and I'll make sure to get the bastard that hurt you. I'll make him pay."

- And he really does. Whenever you are asleep or busy with something, Bakugo is on his phone or computer, working his ass off to find the person that did it. He is going to make sure whoever did this will pay the appropriate price for hurting you.

- Whenever you need it, he is ready to hold you close while gently caressing your hair and back. He will talk even about the most silly thing just to see you smile just a little bit. Staying quiet is also something he is ready to do, spending time in silence isn't a problem for him.

Enji

- Enji isn't home very often so it's easy for you to hide it all and just choke yourself with this traumatizing experience.

- When he is actually back, he quickly notices the changes in your behavior. You were like a candle light; warm and happy and now? You resembled an extinguished candle... Cold and sad looking.

- It annoys him because he is really trying for you but suddenly you are all distanced for no reason! Not only in everyday life but also in bed.

- Enji finally confronts you, demanding answers from you! He is your lover, so how dare you ignore him?! Of course he is not gentle about it.

- As you reach your breaking point and admit to what happened at the party you went to, he is shocked that something like this happened to you.

- He is not a master of comfort so at the beginning he isn't sure what to do but in the end Enji pulls you into a tight hug. "Forgive me for being so harsh on you. I'll do better."

- This is a promise he actually keeps up with! Enji is trying his best to understand your needs and boundaries now.

- He pays more attention to you, building up the trust again to show you that you can still trust him and nothing has changed between the two of you.

- Enji loves to hold you close and just comfort you when you feel bad. He enjoys cuddling your smaller frame, making sure that you feel protected.

- If you think he will leave it just like that and do nothing about it you are really wrong. He is a Number One hero and whoever dares to hurt you, now has to deal with him. Enji uses all of his contacts and influence to find that bastard.

- He makes sure you are feeling safe and loved again.

Shoto

- Poor guy is deeply confused when one day you go completely quiet. He is worried if you made it home after the party.

- After receiving no information from you, Shoto goes to your place to check on you. Just to be sure you are okay.

- The state he found you in was heartbreaking. His beautiful girlfriend, his little ray of sunshine suddenly being in distress and bad mental shape.

- He approaches you carefully, asking questions to find out what happened.

- When you reveal what happened the night before, he is shocked. How could someone even do this to another person?

- Of course Shoto doesn't judge you. It was beyond your control and he understands but he slowly talks you into going to the right authorities.

- Shoto goes with you everywhere to make you feel good and safe. He won't allow anyone to get too close to you.

- Back at home he is mostly quiet, letting you decide if you feel like talking or doing anything together.

- When you tell him yes, Shoto is all over you. He wants you close to show you all the love he has for you.

- His favorite thing to do is to simply hold your hand. It gives him this feeling of intimacy and shows him you still trust him.

- Shoto's second favorite thing is holding you right before falling asleep. You look so cute and despite what happened, he is happy you are with him. "My love. I am so lucky to have you and I promise you that I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

- Like every hero he won't let it slide. Shoto will make sure that whoever did this pays for your pain.

Kaminari

- When he finds out, he is terrified and blames himself for this. He had to go with you but a sudden shift in schedulge made him go to work while you went to the party.

- He really doesn't know what to do BUT he quickly gathers himself. You need him and he is there to serve.

- Just like others he accompanies you at the doctor and during the talk with authorities.

- Back at home Denki is really careful around you. Always asking if you need anything, making sure you are okay with stuff he does. He never leaves you alone unless you request him to do so.

- He buys your favorite snack and even tries to bake something you like. Even if he isn't the best at it, he'll try his best for you!

- You feel like watching some silly movie or show? He is there with you!

- Or maybe you feel like just laying down and listening to some music? This dude made a playlist from all your favorite songs!

- Denki is ready to do everything to make you comfortable. Your smile is the most beautiful thing in the world and he is going to work hard for it to appear again upon your pretty lips.

- Even if he blames himself for your harm, he'll never tell you about this but instead he will do EVERYTHING he can to make you feel good again. "We'll make it work, yeah? I won't leave your side and we are going to work through it together." He always assures you with a big bright smile.

- Whoever dared to put hands on you can't sleep peacefully. Kaminari, with the help of his friends, will hunt this bastard down and bring him to justice.

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welldonebeca · 7 months

Text

Housewife Halloween (I)

Summary: Sam hates Halloween. When he catches his girlfriend dressed up and playing as his wife, he realises the day might not be so bad, after all. Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female!Reader WC: 1.3k words Warnings: Stanford times. Fluff. Teasing. Wife kink.

Masterlist

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Sam scoffed as he walked past the Halloween decorations. The whole month, Stanford was just decorated up and down with skeletons, witches, ghosts and all that crap, and now... now it was officially Halloween.

And God, he hated it.

He didn't even get what the big deal was. It was like all of a sudden everyone was five again, and wanted to go crazy for the holiday.

Jess had been asking him non-stop to do some group costume and go bar hopping, but he had said no so many times she gave up after a few too many of them. Most of his friends called him a buzzkill after that, but he didn't mind. He had you, at home, a loving girlfriend who didn't judge him and respected his boundaries.

Sam just wanted to go home, cuddle you and pretend it was November or something. Watch something that wasn't scary at all, without even looking at any candy, and let Halloween pass by without noticing it.

When he unlocked the door of your shared place, he was surprised to find you standing in the living room, dressed like you'd come straight back from the fifties, with your hair curled and pinned and a very round dress.

"Honey, you're home!" you quipped.

He stood, frozen, on his feet, taking in your look as you walked over to him, standing on your tiptoes and kissing his cheek.

The two of you had been living together since he moved out of his old dorm - a bit over a month after the incident when he hurt his back.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here so early," you walked behind him, taking off his jacket before Sam could even think of what you were saying. "Take a seat, dinner is on its way."

He blinked, following you into the kitchen, sniffing around, surprised at the great smell.

"Did you order take out?" he asked. It smelt really good.

You just giggled.

"Of course not, silly," you grabbed an apron from your side, and he raised his eyebrows at how it was stained with red. "I cooked for us."

Alright, this was weird.

He looked at you and then the stove, and stood up, stopping you by grabbing your shoulders.

Either something very dangerous was going on or you were up to something.

"What is going on?" he asked, careful.

You rolled your eyes, laughing, and your shoulders relaxed.

"Alright, you got me," you rolled your eyes. "It's a costume. What do you think?"

He frowned, looking at your clothes.

"What are you supposed to be?" Sam asked.

You stepped back and twirled in front of him.

"A murderous housewife," you smiled.

He chuckled. Well, now the apron was explained.

"I found this dress and those petticoats in the thrift store, and they are actually vintage," you explained. "And I didn't want to ruin it with blood, so I just did that with the apron and borrowed one of your knives."

Sam lost his smile, glancing at the knife on the counter. It was one of the knives he kept for safety reasons.

"That is not a toy," he reminded you.

You pouted.

"But Sam," you whined.

"If you told me you wanted a knife for your costume, I could get you a toy one," he told you, emphatically. “But not that one.”

His former life as a hunter was something he had touched very little on. Yes, you knew he had some sketchy things in his childhood, but never pressed him on it or said anything when he made sure you and your home were protected.

Your pout grew more, and you flushed, looking guilty.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

Sam sighed. You looked so cute like that.

"You're forgiven," he assured you. "And why are you dressed up?"

Your lips curled in a shy smile.

"My Sorority is having a Halloween party," you explained. "It's gonna be at midnight."

Sam nodded along. You were part of one of the sororities there, and while you didn't live with them, you were always involved in their events - be it in presence or planning.

"I know you hate Halloween," you told him and bit your lower lip. "It is really quick.”

He watched your face, and his eyebrows knitted together in a frown when he realised you looked like you really wanted to say something.

“What?’ he asked.

“I was… you know… thinking you could come, maybe?” you asked, softly. “You don’t even have to dress up.”

His shoulders sagged and Sam had to stop himself from scoffing, knowing his face didn't look very happy.

"Baby..." he sighed.

"How about I serve us dinner?" you stepped away from him. "And if you don't want to go after that, we won't."

He sighed.

"Alright," you walked back to the table. "Do your best."

You giggled and Sam watched you go, stepping to the counters in the tiny kitchen of your home, puffy skirt swirling around and tight curls bouncing on your shoulders, causing his cock to swell the littlest bit.

He shouldn't get horny seeing you like that.

Sam was a feminist, for fuck's sake! Perhaps, it was the part of him who wanted the stable home he never had, or maybe you just looked too sexy in that dress, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking of the future, of living in a nice house in the suburbs where he would come home to see you making dinner or folding laundry, and welcoming him in that same voice, sweet as honey with your little 'welcome home, husband'.

It was such a caveman idea.

And yet, here he was, trying to will his cock into staying soft.

His thoughts were interrupted by the clanking of plates and looked down to see a meal of chicken and rice, along with steamed vegetables on the side.

"I hope you like it honey," you leant in his direction, kissing his forehead before moving back.

You sat by his side and he had to mask his surprise. Yes, he knew you had been trying to get better at cooking, but this was the first time you presented him with a full homemade meal, and it just looked delicious. It wasn't like the greasy diner food he was so used to getting, it was actually made at home and with love.

He ate it hungrily, unable to even pretend he wasn't used to it, trying to savour every bite.

Sam didn't even realise he had gotten carried away before he raised his eyes and found you staring at him, blushing deeply, completely flushed.

"Sorry," he said quickly, laughing nervously. "It's just... it's really good."

You smiled, very embarrassed.

"It's just chicken, Sam," you shrugged.

He shook his head.

"It's amazing," Sam insisted. "You made it really well. You are... such a good wife."

Your cheeks flushed even more at the little quip, and you lowered your gaze, looking just like you did anytime he praised or degraded you during sex, or even teased you about it.

Sam was glad to see your reaction. He had worried he might have scared you with such a declaration, but seeing you look a little meek, all flushed, was adorable.

You leant in your direction, rubbing his nose on yours, and smirked when your eyes drifted closed and your lips parted, waiting for a kiss that he didn't place on your lips, sucking in a breath when you reached for your neck, holding it gently and placing his lips on the other side of it.

"My good wife," he whispered. "My perfect little wife."

You whimpered, moving your face as Sam pulled back, reaching for his lips, but he just moved back.

"Sam," you whined. "Don't be mean."

"I'm the man of the house," he reminded you. 'I know what my wife needs."

You whimpered, and he pushed his chair back, spreading his legs, thinking of what he was going to do next.

"Put dinner in the fridge," he instructed you. "I'll be waiting for you in the living room."

…

“Housewife Halloween” was posted on Tumblr on May 2022. To read it fully now (and the prequel, “Plough Pose”), subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month and I post 6x a week!

…

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth @amythyststorm33 @shaelyn102 @yknott81 @maximofftrash @kgbrenner @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80 @mogaruke @shadowhunter7 @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever @deemoriarty @05spn18 @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67 @averyrogers83 @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Supernatural tags: @its-daydreamer23 @imagefanfictionlover @smalltowndivaj @tayrae515imagines @afanofmanystuffs @oneshoeshort @andkatiethings @wakanda-sometimes @akshi8278 @xoxabs88xox @izbelross @isabelle-faith @flamencodiva @lyarr24

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bwabys-scenarios · 7 months

Text

Reunited

Feitan x Reader Route

Part 1

part 2

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warning: brief mention of human trafficking, brief torture scene, Feitan masturbates at the end

taglist: @tsukilover11 @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream @canthebest1 @whorermoviestar @fabitheraven @ashdownunderscorebeloved @astresoleil @smuttysammie22 @yandere-enthusiast @lostsomewhereinthegarden @sketchy-owl @bekahtaylorgriggs @zanzie @dabisimp21

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

(Name) dropped her suitcase off at Leorio’s before making her way to the location Phinks and Feitan provided in her note. Apparently, Machi would be waiting for her, and would take the console so it would be safe while (Name) ventured into Greed Island.

“Machi!”

The pink haired woman looked up just in time to catch the girl crashing into her. “H-hey! Don’t you know what personal space is?”

She pushed (Name) back a bit, huffing. “Haha, sorry. I’m just happy to see you’re safe! Fei told me… what happened with Paku…”

Machi sighed, ruffling the girls hair. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Come on, let’s get you into the game. Fei’s probably worried sick.”

“Worried?”

‘Ah, she’s dense.’

Machi didn’t answer, leading her towards their hideout. “Fei requested that I stay to make sure you got into the game safely.”

(Name) giggled, holding a hand to her cheek. “Aww, that’s so sweet of him.”

(Name) gasped when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind. “(Nnaaammeee)~ you’re here!”

Shalnark laughed, giving her a good squeeze before Machi sent him a look. “If Fei knew what you were doing right now…”

Shalnark stuck his tongue out at her. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. So…”

He seemed different, his hands holding onto her waist as he leaned forward. “Who was that dark haired man you saw when Feitan told you to stay put?”

(Name) tilted her head. “Dark haired man… you mean Illumi? He’s a friend.”

“Do you typically make out with your friends?”

This caused the girl to pause. “First of all, that’s none of your business, secondly, how do you know that?”

Shalnark sat her down, smiling. “Aww, but I asked first! What is your relationship with that man?”

(Name) sighed. “Again, he’s a friend, the assassin that kidnapped me. Feitan is aware of that, but…”

She twiddled her thumbs. “He kind of proposed to me at dinner.”

“Proposed?”

“Yes… I met with him to discuss why we left off on bad terms, and possibly continue our friendship. However…”

She scratched the back of her head. “He um… proposed to me. I’m still not sure how to feel about it.”

Shalnark hummed. From the camera he placed at her front door and room, he’d seen several… things. Thankfully for (Name), he removed the camera before she and Kurapika enjoyed their night together.

“I see.”

“Now answer my question, Shalnark. How did you know that?”

The blonde only shrugged. “Dunno!”

Knowing she wouldn’t be getting an answer from him, the girl only sighed and pulled out the cookies she’d brought. “There’s at least two for everyone, and…”

She stepped forward, towards the coffin covered in flowers. The lingering troupe members watched as she placed an offering of freshly baked goods on top. “I hope you like these, Paku. They’re cat cookies. I… I really wanted you to meet my kitties one day…”

Shalnark stepped forward to comfort the crying girl. “She would of loved those, (Name). Thank you…”

He held her as she cried, patting her back.

———————

(Name) looked over the cast green field after walking out of the small tower. “So, this is greed island… Killua and Gon are supposed to be here, along with Fei and Phinks. Hmm…”

The girl stepped out, twirling around. “Hmm… they said to wait after I got here… so I guess I’ll just…”

She sat under the tower, pulling her knees to her chest. It had only been a few minutes, but she was already growing bored. “Did he say how long it would take? I can’t remember…”

“Did. Second line of note.”

(Name) jumped at the voice sounding next to her, her eyes lighting up immediately. “Fei!”

Feitan grunted when she jumped into his arms, his hands moving down to her hips immediately. “Took longer than thought.” he said, pinching her hip.

(Name) pouted, half heartedly swatting his hand away. “I… I was busy with a friend.”

He nodded, quickly pulling his hands away when a low whistle resounded next to him. “I see you’ve got your girl back now, Fei.”

“Tch.”

Feitan had long since given up on correcting his fellow Troupe members on the relationship he had with (Name). Part of him didn’t want to, he truly did see her as his woman.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t get embarrassed, especially when (Name) was in war shot. “Your girl?” (Name) asked, tilting her head.

Feitan waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t listen to Phinks. Stupid.”

“Hey!”

“Stupid and smell like cheap cologne. Stinks.”

“Oh you little bastard!”

She watched as the two glared at each other, giggling into her hand. “Oh, stop it. No need for all of that. SOO…”

She leaned her head against Feitan’s shoulder, causing the man to stiffen, then relax. “What’s our plans?”

The two glanced at each other before looking back to her. “About that, (Name)…” Phinks said softly, scratching the back of his head.

“You go back.”

(Name) blinked, looking at Feitan with a raised eyebrow. “Go back? What do you mean, I just got here.”

Phinks sighed, taking over. “Listen, there’s been a lot of player deaths recently…”

‘Aside from the ones we’ve caused.’ Phinks thoight, keeping it to himself.

“And we think it’s better if you go back home and wait for us to come get you.” he finished, patting her shoulder.

(Name) looked between the two, eyes starting to get a bit watery. “Fei… I can handle myself. You’re underestimating me again…”

The dark haired man began to panic at the sight of tears streaming down her cheeks. “No, no cry. Not underestimating. Just…”

He took a deep breath, leaning against one of the pillars supporting the tower. “Just worried.”

(Name) sniffled a little, wiping at her tears. “Worried? You’re worried… about me?”

He nodded slowly, glad that his coat was covering his slowly turning pink cheeks.

(Name) looked at him before leaning forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. “That’s sweet, Fei. Thank you.”

He could barely control the urge to pin her against the column and take her right there. (Name) was always so sweet, so cute. He felt the tip of his ears turn red, quickly turning away from her.

“Tch.”

Phinks noticed this, snickering lightly. “Okay lovebirds, let’s get (Name) back to the hideout.”

Phinks pulled out a Leave card, holding it out to (Name) and instructing her on how to use it. Before she did, she looked to Feitan, here eyes softening.

“Fei?”

He stepped toward her, leaning into her touch when she cupped his cheek. He was embarrassingly weak to her touch, unable to keep himself from pulling away. “Yes?”

Her lips hovered over his, before she pulled away with warm cheeks. “I’ll see you l-later?”

And with that she was gone, leaving Feitan red as a tomato, reaching out to the empty spot in front of him.

“She almost…”

“She was about to kiss you. Man, aren’t you lucky?”

Feitan snapped out of his daze her presence had him in, turning on his heels. “Let’s go. Have work to do.”

————————

(Name) fell onto the floor of their hideout, rubbing her ass and cursing. “Shit…”

Shalnark and Machi were in fighting stances in front of her, relaxing when her familiar aura reached them. “Oh, it’s just you.” Machi said, sitting back down.

Shalnark helped (Name) up, brushing off her skirt for her. “You took quite the tumble, huh? Why are you back so early?”

(Name) frowned at that, folding her arms over her chest. “Feitan and Phinks said it was too dangerous and I should go back. Apparently a lot of players have been dying lately.”

Shalnark nodded, tapping a finger against his chin. ‘It must be a real problem if Feitan sent (Name) back. He seemed so eager to her again.’

“Hmm… I see. Well, what are your plans now?”

(Name) sat down, pouting. “I’m not sure… I was hoping to spend more time with Fei, but… I guess I won’t be able to if he’s gonna be busy.”

Shalnark’s eyes softened ever so slightly, the man plopping down next to her. “Hey, no need to pout. I’m sure Fei will call you as soon as he’s able to. He…”

He trailed off, smiling. “He really does care about you, ya know? You’re… kind of his everything.”

This made (Name)’s face heat up. She playfully smacked Shalnark’s arm, giggling. “Oh don’t tease me. I…”

The blonde looked completely serious, putting a hand on her shoulder. “(Name), I don’t say this lightly, but your safety and happiness is Fei’s biggest priority. Your nen is incredibly useful, if he didn’t care about you he would have kept you in greed island despite the danger.”

She couldn’t argue with him, looking down at her lap. “Really..?”

She wasn’t asking because she didn’t believe him, she just needed that confirmation. “Really.”

Machi huffed, pushing herself off of the concrete slap she’d been sitting on. “We should get moving soon, considering those kids knew of our hideout.”

‘She means Gon and Killua.’ (Name) thought, a little sad she wouldn’t get to see them in Greed Island.

“Where did they say to meet them again?” Shalnark asked, pulling out his phone.

Machi listed out a location, making (Name) blink. “Oh, that’s really close to my home!l

Shalnark flicked her forehead. “You shouldn’t blurt things like that out, (Name). We’re criminals, remember?”

The girl poured, rubbing her forehead. “But… but you’re Feitan’s friends. I trust you!”

This caused the two to pause. It wasn’t often that they heard those words from anyone outside of the Troupe.

“It’s stupid to trust people you barely know.” Machi said, giving her a flick to the forehead as well, but it was halfhearted. It felt nice to be treated as a person, not like the cold hearted thieves they were.

But were they really all that cold hearted, when (Name)’s words warmed their chests so?

Shalnark suddenly perked up, grinning. “If where we’re heading is close to your home, we can accompany you there!”

“Shal.” Machi warned, raising an eyebrow. They both knew just how protective Feitan was of (Name), how he hadn’t even planned on most of them meeting her.

Shalnark shook his finger. “Ah, ah, ah! I’m sure Fei would prefer (Name) getting home safe and sound. Traveling alone is dangerous after all, especially after…”

A silence filled the air as Shalnark’s sentence trailed off. “After what?” (Name) asked, tilting her head.

‘After you’ve been associated with us.’ Shalnark thought. They’d been careful to conceal her identity, but a skilled nen user would be able to pick up on faint traces of the phantom troupes aura on her. It put a target on her back, and Feitan’s infrequent visits were probably to protect her.

“Nothing, nothing. The others are in town grabbing supplies right now, and we’ll be leaving after. You said you dropped your suitcase off with a friend, yeah?”

She nodded, and Shalnark smiled. “I’ll take you into town to grab it. And don’t worry, I have my own business to take care of so I won’t snoop.”

“I haven’t even said yes to going with you all.” (Name) said with a laugh.

“Oh? Do you not want us at your home? How cruel!” Shalnark teased, holding an arm over his face. She giggled, removing his arm to look at him.

“I didn’t say that, silly. You’re all welcome.”

He didn’t expect his heart to thump against his chest like it did when she began pulling him away. “Let’s get going then, before my friend mails my suitcase off!”

——————

Leorio handed her suitcase, giving her a hug before she was off again. Shalnark was waiting by a boba shop, holding two cups.

“Here, I got you one.”

She gasped, taking it. “Oh, thank you!”

The two left, but not heading towards the hideout. Instead they showed up at the airport, where the others were waiting. Shizuku, Franklin, and Kortopi.

“Oh, hey (Name).” Franklin said, waving at you with his large hand. She waved back, Shizuku tilting her head at her.

“(Name)? Isn’t that Feitan’s girlfriend?”

Franklin grasped Shizuku’s head. “You’re not supposed to say that part out loud, Shizuku.”

“Oh. Sorry. Hello (Name)!”

Said girl stood there with her face growing hot. “Hello… and hi Kortopi.”

The small… person waved.

Shalnark helped (Name) onto the airship, Franklin carrying her suitcase. “Let’s get seated. It’s going to be a long ride.”

As the day turned into night, (Name) ended up falling asleep on Shalnark’s shoulder. Out of the bunch of them, he was the least intimidating.

“Ooo, if Feitan saw he would be pissed.” Shizuku said, pointing to the two.

“Bleh, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Shalnark gently ran his hand over her hair. ‘Fei better treat her right. She’s special, truly.’

It took a few days for the group to reach (Name)’s home, and once they were walking down the path to her house, she started getting excited.

“I can’t wait for you all to meet my cats!”

Shizuku nodded, walking alongside her. It seemed the dark haired girl subconsciously stuck near (Name). Maybe it was her soothing presence, maybe it was because she was the only other girl in the group, but she felt pulled towards her. “Pakunoda liked cats.”

A silence fell over the group, (Name)’s smile fading. “Yeah…”

The awkward silence of was broken when Franklin breathed in, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Is that…”

He pushed between (Name) and Shizuku, walking forward. “Smoke.”

(Name) blinked, tilting her head. “Smoke? Why would there be smoke? Maybe one of my neighbors is burning leaves or something…”

Shalnark and Franklin glanced at each other as they continued walking.

As they drew closer to (Name)’s home, the smell of smoke became more intense. At some point, (Name)’s walk became a jog, before she started straight up sprinting.

“No… no it can’t be!”

Her home, or at least what was left of it came into view. Shalnark was running after her, attempting to grab her arm to pull her away but she moved too quick.

“Tammy! Missy!” she screamed out. Her home was in ashes, the surrounding fruit trees burnt to a crisp. (Name)’s eyes filled with tears, stepping over what once used to be the threshold of her home.

“(Name)!”

Shalnark pulled her back by the waist, causing the girl to kick and scream. “No, let me go! I have to search for my cats! I c-“

“Use Gyo!”

She paused, focusing her aura into her eyes.

She scanned the rubble of her home, seeing no aura. “See? They aren’t here. Even if they were… killed in the fire, there would still be a faint aura lingering for a few days at least.”

She relaxed, taking in a few breaths before turning on her heels. “Their cat sitter… I told her she could take them to her house if she was too busy. She must have them!”

Shalnark nodded, gesturing for her to call her cat sitter. She walked off to speak to the cat sitter as the others inspected her home.

Shizuku shrugged. “It’s possible something caught fire inside. Maybe the cat sitter left the stove on.”

“No, it reeks of gasoline.” Franklin said with a shake of his head.

“Who would do this? (Name) doesn’t have any enemies, she’s-“

Shalnark paused, taking a better look at the scorched doorframe. There was something etched into the wood, his eyes widening in anger.

It was a star, with an eye in the middle.

“That’s… the symbol of the human traffickers that hurt (Name).” Shalnark said, just loud enough for the others to hear him, but quiet enough that it didn’t reach (Name).

Shalnark took a picture of the mark. “I’m glad we came with her. There’s no telling what could of happened had she been alone.”

Shizuku left the others, again wandering towards (Name). The girl gave Shizuku a smile, causing her to tilt her head.

“Hey!”

(Name) came walking back with Shizuku in tow, a smile on her face. “She has my cats, so they’re safe.”

“That’s great news, (Name).” Shalnark said, giving her the best smile he could. His mind was racing, trying to sort everything out. ‘Are they back? Why would they burn her home down? It doesn’t make sense… at least we have a confirmation that the organization is indeed still active.’

(Name) sighed, sitting down on the remnants of her porch. “I guess this means that I’m homeless. Again.” she huffed, Shizuku sitting next to her.

“Hey, (Name)?”

She looked to see Shalnark standing before her. He was smiling, but it was strained. “Yes?”

The blonde took a moment to respond, picking his words carefully. “I… think it’s best if you come with us.”

“… I mean I’m not against it, but why?”

Shalnark bit his lip. He didn’t want to bring up the painful memories of her past. He knew full well that her mood would be soured, and she didn’t have Feitan to clingy to for comfort right now. “We’re going to see Fei.”

This was a detail they’d left out. “You’re… what? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

He looked away, rubbing his neck. “We figured he would prefer if you didn’t come, considering how dangerous it was on Greed Island. But…”

The image of the mark on the doorframe flashed in his head. “Things have changed. We aren’t exactly traveling to meet him anyways, we were just getting ready for when he came back through the console. That and get as close as we can to greed island.”

“But… greed island is a game, is it not?”

As Shalnark explained that, the sun started to go down. “Ah, we should get a hotel for the night.”

———————

The next morning, (Name) woke up the the sound of arguing. Her and Shizuku had shared a room for the night, the girl stirring in the other bed.

“It’s too early in the morning for them to be fighting.” Shizuku groaned, covering her head with a pillow. (Name) patted her back.

“I’ll go talk to them. You rest.”

Shizuku peeked from under her pillow as (Name) left the room, feeling fuzzy. She couldn’t deny that it felt nice to have someone worry about such an insignificant thing as her getting to sleep in. ‘She’s nice…’

(Name) knocked on the boys hotel room. “Hey, why are you arguing s-“

The door swung open, revealing a disgruntled Feitan. “Fei!”

She tackled him in a hug, sending them both sprawling to the floor. The man yelped, and the rest of the men stared wide eyed. They’d never heard him make that sound before.

“(Name).”

He stared up at her, cupping her cheek as gently as he could. Feitan was conflicted. He was excited to see her again, but when Shalnark informed him of what happened… he felt his blood pressure rise.

“I missed you…” (Name) said softly, leaning into his touch. It was hard for him not to cave and pull her in, to press kisses into her soft cheeks, but he held back.

He didn’t want the others to think he was weak, after all.

“Just saw me few days ago.” he said in a hushed voice, helping her stand up. She pouted, putting her hands on her hips.

“I always miss you, Fei. Even if it’s only been a few days.”

‘Fuck.’

She always knew how to make his heart race with just a few words. The dark haired man didn’t answer her, instead sitting on one of the beds.

“So, we’re going to be visiting greed island, yeah? When do we leave?” (Name) asked, plopping down onto the bed. Feitan shrugged.

“Want to do soon as possible.”

As they spoke about their plans, (Name) leaned her head against Feitan’s shoulder, still tired. It was only 7 am, and they’d gone to bed late due to Shizukus ramblings.

As she dozed off, Feitan allowed her to lie her head in his lap instead. “Always falling asleep.” he said, running his hand over her hair. “Should be more alert.”

She hummed softly. “When I’m around you, I know I can let my guard down for a bit…”

Feitan’s hand trembled ever so slightly as he continued to run his hand over her hair. Once she was asleep, the conversation shifted. “Said you found mark of human trafficking?” Feitan asked, his hand trembling for an entirely different reason now.

Shalnark nodded, leaning against the wall as he pulled up the picture on his phone. “Yep, clear as day. I assume they had some part in burning down her house.”

Feitan cursed, gritting his teeth. “Bastards. What more they want from her? Haven’t taken enough?”

Franklin grunted. “One of the last orders from the Boss was to get as much information on that organization as possible.”

“Yeah.” Feitan said, looking down at (Name). She looked so peaceful in her sleep, despite all the horror she’d been through, despite the fact her house had been burned to a crisp.

“What are we gonna do about the girl?” Kortopi asked, pointing a finger in (Name)’s direction.

“Well we can’t just leave her alone. They’re obviously after her, for some reason or another.” Shalnark pointed out.

“And she’s the only link we have to the organization that was taking Meteor City kids.” Franklin said, looking down at the girl.

“She stay with me.” Feitan answered, placing a hand on her back and rubbing soothingly. “My woman. Need her to be safe.”

Phinks walked in then, carrying a few takeout bags with Shizuku in tow. “Hey, I got breakfast.”

——————

After breakfast, (Name) left to go change into some new clothes. She was happy she overpacked, considering all the clothes she left behind in her home were now gone.

Feitan accompanied her, not wanting to let the girl out of his sight. “Hurry up.” he grumbled, waiting on her bed.

She walked out of the bathroom wearing a pair of jean overalls and a pink turtleneck underneath. There was a cute bunny stitched into the chest pocket, Feitan finding her adorable.

“I thought this would be warm and cute. What do you think, Fei?”

He stared at her for a moment before answering. “Warm definitely.”

She giggled, slipping into her sneakers. “Fei~”

“… yes?”

She leaned forward, giving him a hug. “I wasn’t joking when I said I missed you. The last few days have been tough, and…”

He could her her choking up, and it broke his heart. He shushed her with a squeeze to her thigh, causing the girl to yelp. “I’m here now. Protect you.”

She nodded, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Thank you, Fei…”

He held her close, the thought of her returning home alone and possibly being hurt by the people who caused her so much pain as a child made his blood boil. Feitan couldn’t let her be alone, now that he knew they were after her.

They left the hotel at 8:30 am, and got on a boat to sail towards green island at around 10 am.

By the time they reach it, it was nearly sunset. (Name) was being carried by Feitan after falling asleep again, and their interaction with Razor after breaking into Greed Island sent them back to the nearest shoreline.

“Fuck, that was just a huge waste of time!” Phinks groaned out, kicking the nearest tree. It toppled over, nearly crushing Franklin.

“Hey, quiet. She sleeps.” Feitan hissed out, holding (Name) close. Phinks huffed, marching away to let some steam off.

“Guess we’ll get back in the “legal” way next.” Shalnark said, keeping his voice low.

Feitan didn’t like this idea. Bringing (Name) back into Greed Island posed more risks to her safety, but there was no way he’d leave her alone without someone he trusted to watch over her.

“Have to make quick. Can’t let her be alone too long. Risky.”

(Name) stirred in his arms, the man patting her back to help her ease back into a more restful sleep.

The group returned to the game, seeing Chrollo’s name had been registered there. Unfortunately it wasn’t Chrollo’s but Hisoka.

The good news was, there was an exorcist that could remove Kurapika’s nen blade in Chrollo’s heart.

As plans were carried and deals were made, (Name) was kept distracted by Shizuku, who had plenty to talk about, even if most of her rambles were idle chat that didn’t mean much. (Name) listened intently though, occasionally butting in to share her opinion.

This seemed to make Shizuku quite happy. Not many people listened to her rants, and she finally had an outlet.

“(Name).”

The two turned to see Feitan returning, looking tired. (Name) jumped up from her seat on a stump, walking over.

“We leaving.”

He handed her and Shizuku a leave card each.

———————

(Name) sat on the old sofa of an abandoned house, occasionally sneezing. It was dusty and cold, but not that awful. At least there was a roof over her head.

The group made the abandoned house their temporary hideout as they discussed certain matters.

“It’ll take the exorcist at least a few months to find and help Chrollo. It’s best we go our separate ways and rest until we get word from them.”

(Name) frowned at this. The past few days she’s been so busy moving place to place that she hadn’t even had the time to grieve the loss of her home, or form any plans on what she’d do about it.

‘I could return to my parents house, but it’s already crowded there, and it will just worry mom and dad…’ she thought, sighing into the apple juice box Feitan had stolen for her.

“What’s wrong?” Shalnark asked, noticing (Name)’s sad sighs. “You’ve been sighing for the better part of two hours.”

“What doesn’t she have to be sad about? Her house burnt down.” Shizuku pointed out, causing (Name) to sigh again.

“Do you have somewhere to stay?”

(Name) looked up to see Phinks standing over her. She had always found him to be a bit intimidating, but now his voice was soft and caring.

“No… I mean yes, but… I could stay with my parents but they have a lot to deal with already and I don’t want to worry them.”

Feitan held onto her hand. “… could stay with me.”

(Name) looked up, her cheeks warm. “W-what?”

“Yeah!” Shalnark agreed enthusiastically. “Fei, Phinks, and I are all roommates! There’s a spare bedroom we use for…”

He wanted to say the room they used to keep Feitan’s victims in before being taken down to the basement, but he was quick to clear his throat. “We use for storage. You can stay there while you get your affairs in order!”

She began to tear up, causing all three of the usually cold hearted men to tense up. “Thats so sweet of you to say… I really don’t want to be a burden…”

“No. Not burden.”

Feitan held onto her hand tightly, not caring that the others were looking at him. “Important.”

Nobunaga leaned against the wall, nodding. “Not only did Uvo and Paku adore you, but the boss said treat you as our own, and we don’t leave our comrades out on the street.”

Feitan swiped away her tears with his calloused fingers. “You take care of me, I take care of you.”

This was what sent (Name) over the edge. She began openly sobbing, leaning her head against Feitan’s chest. “Th-thank you Fei! I love you…”

He wrapped his arms around his, feeling his face turn red. “… we leave in morning. Make sure you packed up.”

——————

They reached Feitan’s shared home a few days later. (Name) was exhausted from the constant travel, and just wanted to collapse into the guest bedrooms bed.

However, when she tried to open the door, she was blocked by Shalnark. “Woah, uh, you can’t go in there yet. We still have to… clear things out.”

She raised an eyebrow, but was too tired to question it. Instead, she plopped down onto the couch to nap, before she fell asleep, she noticed how filthy the home was.

There were fruit flies everywhere, dirty dishes in the sink, dirty clothes strewn across the floor. ‘I have my work cut out for me…’ (Name) thought as she drifted off to sleep, pulling the throw blanket over herself.

She woke up a few hours later, feeling refreshed yet exhausted at the same time. The house reeked like rotting food, sweat, and dirty laundry.

“Okay boys.”

She stood before the three, who she’d called into the living room. “We got your room cleared out!” Shalnark said cheerily.

“Good boy. Anyways-“

Shalnark’s jaw dropped as she continued talking, having to cross his legs to hide his boner.

“This house is a wreck. I say this with love, truly, BUT HOW DO YOU LIVE LIKE THIS?? I saw a dirty sock in the fridge!!”

“It’s not dirty, I like to keep my socks cold.” Phinks said, shrugging.

“Okay if you want to keep your socks in the fridge at least put it in a ziplock bag. Our food is in there.”

“We don’t have ziplock bags.”

“And that ties into my next point. There’s like nothing here! If you told me this house was abandoned I would believe you. There’s no rags, no oven mitts, no silverware.”

Feitan shrugged. “None can cook. Eat out.”

She groaned. “Fei, sweetheart, that’s not sustainable.”

“Still alive.” He countered.

(Name) rubbed her temple. “Okay, I see that talking this out is useless. I’m going to town and getting the essentials, then I’ll be cleaning this house so living here will be tolerable.”

‘She ain’t even been here a day and she’s already acting like she owns the place.’ Phinks thought, amused.

She begin to pull out her wallet, but Feitan snatched it out of her hand. “Hey!”

“What you doing??”

She huffed, reaching for her wallet. “I was seeing what my budget would be for shopping.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We give you money for that. Don’t spend your own.”

“But…”

Feitan placed her wallet in his pocket. “Stolen money, don’t worry.”

She pursed her lips. ‘That doesn’t help anything.’ she thought, pulling her backpack on.

“I’m going into town. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Feitan was about to offer to accompany her, but Shalnark pulled him back. “Hey, we need to talk over some things.”

He glanced at (Name), who was walking out the door before signing. “Wear mask on face. Keeps you from being recognized.” he called out after her.

“Okay!”

They waited for her to fade close the before her before speaking.

“When she was sleeping at the hotel, I found a tracking device on her.”

Feitan’s casual grip on the wall next to him turned into a tight grip, small cracks forming in it. “What?”

Shalnark nodded. “It was pretty advanced tech, it took me nearly 30 minutes to remove it. I ended up driving a good ways away from the hotel and leaving it in a trash can in the next town. Hopefully that will get whoever has been tracking her off her trail.”

Feitan could barely hear him, he was panicking. ‘Who would want to track her!?’

Phinks put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man, it’s going to be alright. He removed the tracker, so no one will know she’s here.”

Feitan nodded slowly, moving to sit on the couch.

———————

(Name) grunted, struggling to carry the groceries and essential items she bought for the house. It was as much as she could get in one trip, she’d have to go with the others the next day for more.

“I’m home!”

Shalnark was quick to run to the door and help her with the bags she was carrying in. “Woah, you sure got a lot.”

She nodded, gesturing for him to walk towards the kitchen. Shalnark followed behind her, putting things up as she took things out. “I saw there were no cleaning supplies besides a broom, mop, and bleach, so I went ahead and got all the essentials!”

She began unloading cleaning supplies, pulling on a pair of gloves. “Shalnark, please vacate the area. I need to get into the zone.”

He stifled a laugh at how serious she looked, just giving her a nod before leaving the kitchen. Once he was out of earshot, (Name) turned on her phone and started playing pop music as she got to work.

Shalnark glanced back at the kitchen before walking down the basement stairs, the sounds of muscle tearing and blood dripping barely fazing him. “Hey, Fei?”

The dark haired man looked up from his victim, eyes narrowed. “What? Busy.”

“Please… help…”

Shalnark ignored the poor bastard on the table. His rib cage was exposed, Feitan occasionally snapping a rib then chuckling.

“I just wanted to tell you (Name) is home, so try to be more quiet.”

Fei perked up at that, dropping his pliers onto the man’s chest before pulling off his blue rubber gloves. “She home? When she get back?”

“Just a few minutes ago, and she’s on a cleaning spree.”

Feitan snorted, walking over to the deep stainless steel sink to wash his hands and upper arms. “Would do that.”

He followed Shalnark upstairs, stopping when they reached the kitchen door. The sound of some love song was playing behind it, with (Name) singing along.

They looked at each other before entering.

“Holy shit.”

In the fifteen minutes Shalnark had been gone, she’s nearly transformed the place from a pigsty to a functional kitchen.

There was something cooking on the stove, steam rising from a large pot they hadn’t had before. It smelled amazing, causing Shalnark to sigh contentedly.

She placed the last dish they had, which was not many, onto a towel she was using to let them dry. (Name) looked up, giving them a smile. “Hey, boys, I was just finishing up with the kitchen. I’m making some stew for dinner, it should be ready in an hour or so.”

Shalnark fell at her feet, wrapping his arms around her legs and nuzzling against her thighs. “You’re an angel, sent from above!”

Feitan was quick to scoot Shalnark out of the way with his food, growling lowly as he pulled (Name) into his arms. He didn’t like others touching what was his, especially not someone like Shalnark who was good with women.

“Aww, Fei, what’s wrong?”

(Name) cupped his cheek, giving him a concerned look. “He’s just jealous.” Shalnark blurred out before running away from Feitan.

She shook her head at the two, getting back to work.

————————

By the time dinner was ready, she finished throwing away all of the old food and picking up the laundry strewn across the living room. The house was far from clean, but it certainly looked better.

“This is delicious!” Shalnark explained, wolfing down the stew (Name) prepared. She blushed, waving her hand dismissively.

“It’s just a simple stew, nothing special.”

“Still, it’s quite tasty.” Phinks said, taking another bite.

Feitan ate silently, but he too was enjoying his meal. It reminded him of the days he spent living with (Name), and his heart fluttered when he remembered that those days would be able to continue, considering she lived with them now.

“Tomorrow I’m going grocery shopping again. It was hard to carry it all back alone so could one of you come with me?”

Although Feitan wanted to volunteer, his hands were tied. Phinks raised his hand. “I’ll go. I’m not busy tomorrow.”

With that, the group finished dinner and went their separate ways for bed.

(Name) entered what would be her room for the first time, sighing softly. The room was plain, with a queen size bed, ratty gray comforter, and a desk next to it. She huffed when she plopped down onto the bed.

“It’ll keep me warm tonight at least, but I’ll have to add a comforter to the list for tomorrow.”

A knock at the door made her jump. “Come in?”

Feitan opened the door, peeking in. “(Name).”

The dark haired man approached her, sitting on the bed. “Doing alright?”

(Name) sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I guess. It’s all a lot to handle. The last week has been exhausting.”

Feitan nodded slowly, his finger rubbing circles into the back of her hand. “Understandable. Lost home.”

She turned to him suddenly, smiling. “I’m just glad I have you, Fei. Without you, I would have…”

She stopped, her eyes half lidded as she looked at him. They were so close, noses nearly touching. Feitan swallowed, feeling his heart begin to race.

“Feitan?”

He took a moment to answer, his eyes on her lips. “Yes?”

She leaned forward, inching ever closer. “Would it… would it be okay if I kissed you right now?”

She didn’t receive an audible answer, instead, Feitan’s hand shot out and pulled her in by the front of her shirt, crashing his lips into hers.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her as close as possible as he kissed her. She relaxed into the kiss, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair, mewling into his mouth when his tongue began to dance with hers.

He pulled away, panting as he stared at her. “Wanted… wanted to do that for long time.”

Her face was hot, the girl nodding slowly. “Me too…”

Although Feitan wanted to pin her down and take her now, he knew she was exhausted. So the man stood, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Goodnight (Name).”

She pulled him down for another kiss, causing the dark haired man to melt. When she pulled away, he was staring at her with the softest eyes she’d ever seen him make. “Goodnight, Fei.”

Feitan sunk onto his bed, stroking his cock to the feeling of her lips on his that still lingered. He wanted nothing more than to have her pussy sinking onto his cock, to hear her little moans and whimpers, but…

He came, staring up at the ceiling.

Feitan wouldn’t be able to wait for her much longer.

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