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#the way the treadmills are positioned
waugh-bao · 1 year
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#I’m such a bad person#so most days I use the gym at my university#rather than the one in my apartment building#because it’s bigger and better equipped#depending upon the time of day you go#the clientele can skew pretty elderly#(which is great. people of all ages should totally feel comfortable working out)#I think it’s mostly retired professors and that sort of thing#picture a lot of older/old men strolling on a treadmill in chinos and a sweater and you’ve got the picture#anyway#the way the treadmills are positioned#you can see pretty easily what the person next to you is watching#if they have their phone on the holder#well today when I was running the guy walking on the treadmill next to me (probably in his 70s) kept staring at me#I couldn’t figure out why#and then I realized he was glancing between my phone and me#(I’m in my early 20s and look like a first year undergrad)#because I was watching an old Dave Brubeck performance#I don’t think he was trying to be judgmental or anything he was just confused#but I’m used to getting confused looks at jazz clubs and baroque concerts and stuff#(I once had a man tell me at a Gilad Atmoz show in London. ‘I would have invited you to sit with me b/c you were all alone. but I thought#you were probably waiting for your dad or your boyfriend.’)#so I decided to mess with him a little#and started going backwards in time/obscurity with what I was watching/listening to#until I had 3 miles and was ready to get off and I was watching Baby Dodds drumming in the 1920s#the guy looked like his eyes were going to fall out of his head#gonna say the life lesson here is that I shouldn’t be allowed around the public in any capacity#not the stones#me stuff
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glitchyk · 3 months
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I wanted to take a moment to express how much you mean to me. Your friendship has brought immense joy, laughter, and warmth into my life. Through ups and downs, you've been a constant source of support, understanding, and genuine companionship. I appreciate your kindness, the shared memories, and the countless moments that make our bond so special. Thank you for being an extraordinary friend.
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I’m… surprised I could be a positive to someone, but I’m happy to help
(And I’m so fucking glad that I’m used to typing while sobbing, so it doesn’t really look shaky-)
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highvern · 3 months
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Work Me Out
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader
Genre: Smut, 18+
Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!
Length: ~5k
Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]
to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.
@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
read part II
read more here
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
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Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them. 
So you go as late as possible. 
Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.
Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.
Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.
Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.
You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.
And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.
He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone. 
But that doesn’t last long.
“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial. 
“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”
Yes.
“No, I can find something else to do.” 
You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.
“I don’t mind sharing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”
So that’s where he went.
“Okay, thanks.”
“No problem.”
He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch. 
Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.
He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.
You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back. 
“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.
“Three forty? Ouch.”
“What? Should I have made it lighter?”
“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”
“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”
He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.
This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is. 
And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.
When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”
“Yeah, you too.”
And he’s gone.
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Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat? 
And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.
Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.
Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.
His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.
When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week. 
What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips. 
And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.
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Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit. 
Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.
No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.
Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.
“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”
My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….
There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.
Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary. 
But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.
And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.
“Shit,” you grunt. 
Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”
“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.
“Sorry, let me just…”
The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.
“Fuck!” 
“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”
Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.
“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”
“Oh…”
“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“
The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”
“God, you’re gross.” 
Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.
“Sticks and stones,” he hums.
“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”
When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.
“Or we can go back to mine.”
He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.
From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?
The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.
“Yeah, okay.” 
With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s. 
All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.
Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up. 
People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this. 
A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.
Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.
“Ugh, this is it.” 
His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.
Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?” 
Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.
“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”
“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.
“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.
“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”
“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”
Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.
“Wanna give me the tour?”
Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold. 
“Why are you over there?” You ask.
With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.
“I’m nervous.”
You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”
Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”
“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”
“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.
Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”
Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.
“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”
Oh.
“We don’t hav—”
“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”
You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.
“You’re asking me on a date?”
“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”
Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.
Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.
He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck. 
“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”
Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth. 
Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.
He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.
“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.
You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”
He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.
Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.
Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.
You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.” 
Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.
Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.
He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”
“Give me another and it will.”
You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.  
Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.
“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.
Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.
You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.
He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.
“Sensitive?”
Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.
The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.
Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.
“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.
You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.
A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.
“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.
He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.
You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.
His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.
“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.
It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.
The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”
Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.
“Want it like this?”
“Yeah.”
You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.
The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.
No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.
“Fuck, you’re tight.”
Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”
Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.
“Don’t say that.”
You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.
“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager. 
“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”
You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.
Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half. 
“Harder,” you beg.
Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.
“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.
His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.
A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.
Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.
“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”
He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.
“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”
The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.
Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.
The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.
You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.
When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.
Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.
“Where are you going?” He pouts.
You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.
Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?
“Bathroom.”
Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.
He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case. 
And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.
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Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
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miclipse · 2 months
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ YOUR ROMAN EMPIRE.
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characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, itoshi rin, michael kaiser (separate).
sypnosis: things he did that you often think about.
word count: 5.3k (~1.0k each)
cw: afab! reader, sfw, established relationships, nicknames used (baby, gorgeous, meine liebe, good girl, pretty girl), pre-wildcard! kunigami, mentions of period (rin's), kaiser being a smug bastard & also soft.
note: first time writing for the blue lock boys <3 comments appreciated!
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ᯓ★ isagi yoichi ᝰ.ᐟ
“does it still hurt alot, baby?”
isagi, who was kneeled in front of you as you sat on the couch, continued pressing the ice pack against your swollen ankle.
his other hand was supporting the heel of your foot as he gently rotated it in circular motions to help ease the pain in the muscles.
your boyfriend lifted his head up to take a look at your expression, worried that the pain of your sprained ankle might be too unbearable for you if he didn't handle it carefully enough.
“a little… but it's getting better…” you mumbled out softly, feeling increasingly guilty the longer you watched isagi kneel in front of you and tend to what you could only call the consequences of your own actions.
“we have a treadmill at home for a reason. why'd you insist on taking a run outside when the ground was still all slippery and wet?” isagi's voice was soft and gentle, soothing the guilt in your heart slightly.
you thought isagi would've gotten mad at you, but he was still as loving and worried for you as ever despite all of this being your own fault.
it had rained earlier this morning, which isagi had already warned you about via text since he was away for his usual soccer practice.
but stubborn little you insisted that the rain would not interfere with your routine evening jog. you figured the damp floors would have dried up by the time you stepped out of the house.
oh, how very wrong you were.
in your defence, majority of the jog went smoothly. the problem only arose when you were about to make the final turn back to the familiar stretch of road that would lead back to your and isagi's shared apartment.
for some reason while you were turning the corner, your foot slipped. as an attempt to catch yourself before you fell face first into the cold hard concrete, your ankle twisted and ended up in an uncomfortable position.
you had to bite your tongue to hold yourself back from screaming due to the sudden sharp and piercing pain coming from your ankle.
when you finally managed to limp your way back to your front porch, you figured you could simply just eat some painkillers and sleep off the pain before your boyfriend got back from training.
but to your absolute horror and misfortune, the moment you opened the front door, you caught sight of your beloved boyfriend walking out from the kitchen with a cup of water in his hand.
the moment isagi saw you limping back through the front door in your sports attire, he immediately placed his cup on the kitchen island and rushed to your side to support you as he brought you to the couch to sit down.
“yeah, well… i thought the ground would've mostly dried up by the time i went out for my jog.” you gave isagi a sheepish and apologetic smile.
“well too bad, you thought wrong. and now look who's the one with a sprained ankle, hmm?” isagi continued to tease you with a soft chuckle, finally removing the ice pack from your inflamed ankle and placing the melted bag of gel down on the carpet.
“so? think you can stand up and walk on your own now?” isagi asked, lightly tracing circles on the bottom of your foot, leaving behind a ticklish sensation that got your foot to twitch and squirm in response.
seeing how your foot was flinching away from isagi's gentle touches, he merely smirked in amusement.
“not really, no.” you laughed, happy to keep things light-hearted despite the fact that you probably wouldn't be able to walk without support for the next few days.
but fret not. isagi was here to be your knight in shining armour, like how he always had been ever since you both started dating.
“do i need to push you around in a wheelchair like those elderly couples?” isagi joked, scooting himself closer to the side of the couch to get closer to you whilst he was still squatting down on the ground.
“well yeah, obviously. you don't expect me to roll around on the floor, do you?” you playfully rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's antics, watching as he reached out to grasp your hand in his.
his thumb traced small, comforting circles on the back of your hand, making you sigh out in satisfaction at how lucky you were to have isagi yoichi as your boyfriend.
a smile graced his lips. not the kind of smile he had whenever he scored a goal, or the kind of smile he gave to his teammates and friends. it was a smile that was solely reserved only for you.
isagi reached his other hand out to caress your cheek, lightly pinching it as a way to show his absolute affection and devotion towards you.
“don't worry. i’ll be the one to push your wheelchair. be it right now, or 60 years down the road.”
you never knew the words that left his lips would take you back to the days where you were falling head over heels for isagi yoichi all over again, but it did.
it had been months since you last felt your heart beat so rapidly against your chest and that queasy feeling of butterflies in your tummy.
those words may seem simple at first glance, but when you analyze it beneath the surface level, it held so much more meaning.
isagi was making a vow to you, promising to stay by your side through thick and thin. even when your youth was nothing but a distant memory, he would still choose you.
he wanted to spend his entire life with you, even if it meant he would have to be pushing your wheelchair around when you were all old and wrinkly.
those words were isagi's true feelings for you,
and they have never left your mind ever since the day he said them to you. not that isagi would ever give you a chance to forget about them in the first place.
ᯓ★ bachira meguru ᝰ.ᐟ
“i’ve cut up some fruit!”
your boyfriend’s lively voice from the kitchen reached your ears as you sat in the living room couch, busily typing away on your laptop.
you resisted the urge to turn away from your laptop screen to reply to your boyfriend, instead choosing to continue typing away on your essay that was due today.
seeing as you did not reply, bachira held the bowl of fruits in his hand as he made his way towards you, who was so diligently working on your assignments.
“do you want some?” the happy boy leaned his face right in front of yours with a cheeky grin, knowing that his actions would get a reaction out of you, who had been ignoring him the past few hours or so.
and rightfully so— you knew better than anyone that if you were to shower bachira with even an ounce of affection, you would never be able to direct your focus back on the task at hand.
“mmm… i’ll eat it later. you can munch on some first.” you suggested absentmindedly, gently using your hand to push bachira’s face away out of your view so that you could focus on the half finished word document displayed on your laptop screen.
well, that did not work according to bachira’s plan.
seeing how you had been paying all your attention on your laptop for the past few hours made bachira a little (very) attention-starved. dating him was equivalent to having a golden retriever as a pet; both of them were very high maintenance beings.
bachira pouted at your dismissive attitude right now, but he understood that you really needed to finish this assignment before the clock struck midnight.
however, as unfortunate as it sounded, today was also one of the rare days where bachira’s training ended early and he was able to spend some proper quality time with you.
bachira let out a dissatisfied hum, the pout still on his lips as he contemplated what to do in order to achieve the goal of the day.
which was to gain your attention.
he looked back down into the fruit bowl he had prepared for the both of you to share, and it did not take long for the pout of his to turn into a mischievous smirk.
it took you a few moments longer than usual to realise bachira had fallen awfully silent. normally, he would not even give you an ounce of quiet, rambling on and on about anything and everything he could talk about to fill in the silence. yet you hadn’t heard him say anything after you told him to eat first.
it was your fault for not figuring out soon enough that whenever bachira fell silent, he was plotting something in his head.
because before you could even save the progress of your half-written essay to turn and look at your boyfriend, a piece of watermelon poked into a metal fork entered your line of sight, successfully enticing you.
blinking in surprise, you instinctively turned your head to look at the culprit with a raised eyebrow.
“meguru-”
“say ‘ahh’!” bachira knew you all too well, and so he cut you off before you could question what he was trying to do. “you do your report, and i feed you. how does that sound, gorgeous?” bachira added, nearing the fork of watermelon closer to your lips.
he gave you no chance to decline his offer, if you could even count it as that.
“...ahh…” eventually giving in to your boyfriend, you slowly parted your lips and took the watermelon in between your teeth, chewing down on the juicy fruit.
“how is it? does it taste sweet?” bachira asked with a wide and bright smile, wiping the watermelon juice that splattered on the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb.
you tried to hide how fast your heart was beating at the simple gesture. but seeing as how bachira started grinning from ear to ear, it didn't take a genius to know that he already noticed your rosy red cheeks.
“tastes yummy.” you remarked with a soft chuckle, turning your attention back to your laptop and typing away on your report. you were trying your best to ignore the loud thumping in your chest.
normally, bachira would have been more clingy and persistent about you paying attention to him, but today he acknowledged that this report was very important to you and played a huge part in your final grade.
thus, he chose to obediently sit by your side for moral support and feed you fruit as you worked away on finishing up your essay.
“mmm, you’re right, it is yummy!” your boyfriend agreed, popping a slice of watermelon in his mouth and chewing down on it. he kept this up, feeding you a piece of fruit and gently wiping away the juice on the corner of your lips with the pad of his thumb before he fed himself a piece of fruit.
after a few minutes, it had finally come down to the very last slice of apple. bachira poked the apple with the metal fork, obviously planning to give you the last fruit in the bowl.
however, bachira’s mind was ever-functioning, and he managed to come up with yet another cheeky plan to surprise you.
“mind looking over for a second, gorgeous?” he called out to you with an innocent smile, waiting for you to stumble into his little trap.
“hmm? hold on.” you quickly typed out the last few words to finish up the sentence in your paragraph before finally turning to look at your boyfriend.
“yeah–?”
in a blink of an eye, bachira placed one end of the apple on your lips before placing the other end of the apple on his lips.
“what is this? the pocky challenge but with apples?” you joked, deciding to play along with bachira’s antics this time. you had ignored him for long enough, he deserved to get some affection from you. especially since he had been doing nothing but quietly sitting by your side and feeding you fruits.
“it’s a reward for working so hard.” bachira then took a big bite of the apple from his end. you followed suit until there was only a tiny chunk separating both your lips from each other.
“may i?” his whisper sounded almost pleading— he had restrained himself from clinging onto you as you worked on your assignment. but now that you were finally giving him your full attention, the boy was yearning for more.
“you may.” you reassured with a slight nod of your head, encouraging bachira to make the final move.
in which he did, biting down the last chunk of the apple before pressing his lips against yours.
it felt wonderful to have your lips moulded against his after being deprived from his affections for so long due to focusing on your essay. you chucked your laptop to the side of the couch, your arms snaking around his waist to make the kiss last longer.
perhaps a small break wouldn’t hurt...
ᯓ★ kunigami rensuke ᝰ.ᐟ
“oooh, what's going on there?”
the curiosity in you was building up when you noticed a crowd gathering just a distance away from the pathway kunigami and yourself were walking on.
as you pointed your index finger towards the crowd, kunigami turned his head to look in that direction before giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“wanna go check it out?” he offered with a soft smile on his lips. you both had nothing important going on right now anyways. the two of you were just walking around the streets aimlessly and doing some window shopping to pass some time before you both would head for dinner.
“yeah!”
the way you chirped out happily in response, your eyes sparkling with excitement made kunigami's heart tighten with a certain fondness he couldn't exactly put into words.
before kunigami knew it, you were dragging him towards the crowd of people to see what all the commotion was about.
when the two of you were close enough, kunigami easily saw past the sea of crowd and his eyes eventually landed on a stage that was being setup with speakers and instruments, along with what seemed to be an amateur band preparing to perform.
“seems like it's a band performance. you interested to watch?” kunigami asked you. he had to raise his voice a little to beat the crowd’s volume, his eyes trailing back to look down at you.
oh.
your boyfriend was met with the sight of you standing on your tippy toes doing little subtle hops on the spot, trying to move your neck around to glance past the back of everyone’s heads, but unfortunately to no avail. you two were considered to be rather far back in the crowd, and everyone had a height advantage against you too.
sometimes kunigami would forget how short you were, or rather how tall he was as compared to you. things that he could easily do such as watching a performance at the back of a crowd was deemed as a challenge for his tiny and petite girlfriend.
kunigami was having an internal conflict with his inner voice on whether he should just push through the crowd so the both of you could make it to the very front of the stage (but also proceed to have a bunch of people glare at the two of you throughout the whole performance).
kunigami was the number one fan of everything being fair and square. and as much as he found the situation unfair for you, he also understood that it would be unfair to literally everyone else if he just rudely pushed through the crowd to get to the very front solely for your sake.
it wasn’t that kunigami would not do anything for you, he would give up anything and everything for you. but in situations like these where the universe was giving him a test on whether he should side with his morals or your happiness, he found himself stuck in the middle.
eventually, you turned to look up at your boyfriend, your soft lips jutting out to form a pout.
“rensuke, i can't see.” that sweet voice of yours would've sent kunigami into a deep trance if he was a weak-willed man.
the man pursed his lips together, desperately digging his brain for any ideas on how to ensure you got to see the performance without making the rest of the audience mad.
then, it was like something clicked in his head. like as if a tiny mouse living in his noggin just attached the two correct wires together and allowed kunigami’s brain to come up with the perfect solution that will make you happy and stick to his morals of ensuring everything was fair and square.
moving his hand down to ruffle your hair affectionately, kunigami then proceeded to crouch down in front of you, his back now facing towards you.
the action made you stunned into place, staring at kunigami’s toned back in disbelief and confusion. “rensuke?” you called out, prompting him to provide some sort of explanation for his action.
“i’ll piggyback you. that way, you'll be able to see the performance, right?” kunigami asked, trying his very hardest to sound as calm as he could. he would die if you saw through just how flustered he was feeling at the moment.
kunigami was often deemed as a scary delinquent due to his built figure in addition to his height being a whopping 6’2, but only a rare few properly understood that he was nothing but a life-sized teddy bear.
and you were the only one that would ever get this special treatment from him.
when kunigami felt your plush thighs press against his neck and shoulders, he grabbed onto your lower calves to ensure you were steady on his back before he slowly stood up to his full height again.
“can you see the stage?” kunigami asked you with a small smile on his face. he could feel many pairs of eyes looking towards the two of you, but he couldn't blame them. he was the only one among the crowd that was carrying a girl on his shoulders.
although you were not used to the stares accompanied by a couple of girls gushing over how cute your boyfriend was to be openly carrying his girlfriend on his shoulders, you were filled with a sense of pride when hearing people whisper about what a good boyfriend kunigami was.
“i can see the world.” you joked, but you sounded amazed by the view. it was your first time getting such a clear view of everything you desired like it was a piece of cake.
“is this how it feels to view the world through your eyes, rensuke?” a soft giggle slipped through those soft lips of yours as you hugged your legs tighter around his neck to ensure that you would not fall off (but also making sure not to accidentally suffocate him in the process too).
“perhaps. but i wish you could see what i see whenever i look at you.” kunigami responded with a playful grin.
your heart skipped a beat at his words, suddenly feeling all giddy and floaty on the inside.
oh, how lucky you were to call this man yours.
ᯓ★ itoshi rin ᝰ.ᐟ
the familiar sound of the front door being opened was accompanied by your boyfriend's monotonous voice.
the words that escaped his mouth seemed habitual and subconscious, and you wouldn't doubt that he would still say the same exact thing even if you weren't around to receive his greeting.
“i'm home.”
you immediately sat up from the couch with a smile, turning to glance at your boyfriend so that you could return his greeting.
“welcome home, rin!” your enthusiastic response was something rin could never dream of getting tired of. no matter how many times this scene unfolded in front of him, it never failed to warm that stone-cold heart of his.
it just seemed to fulfill that hidden desire of his to finally feel loved and be appreciated by someone.
but of course, he would rather take this little secret of his down to the grave with him than ever letting you know about it.
“thanks.” rin responded, trying to seem nonchalant about your response. he had barely given a reaction to it for the past year, so why should he now?
“oh, what's that? did someone give you a gift for winning your game today?” rin used the back of his foot to gently kick the door shut behind him as you spoke, pointing at the basket in his hands out of curiosity.
“no, i bought these.” rin rolled his eyes at you. what made you think he would be accepting gifts from anyone other than his girlfriend? he wasn't that much of a sucker for attention from other girls.
before you could follow up with a second question on what was in the basket that looked to be stuffed to the brim with items, rin walked towards you and shoved the basket right in your face.
looking at rin with a raised eyebrow, you held the basket with both your hands and took a look in it, wondering what could rin possibly have bought for the basket to be looking so full yet barely having any weight to it.
inside, there were tampons and pads arranged neatly on the left side of the basket. it was plenty to last you for the next three to four months or so. and the right side was stuffed to the brim with chocolates and sweets that you remembered mentioning to rin about them being your favourite.
and if that wasn't jaw dropping enough, there was also a cute little teddy bear in the basket, staring right back at you with its cute little beady eyes and a cartoon smile.
“you're going to attract flies into your mouth. close up.” rin commented, scoffing in amusement at your reaction to his small gesture. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying his best to remain as indifferent as he could.
but if you took a closer look at him, you would realise that the tips of his ears held a faint red hue to them.
“but rin… what's this for? my period isn't even here yet.” you looked up at him with your stupidly wide eyes that could compare to a puppy's. seriously, sometimes rin wondered how you looked more like a dog than a human.
“yeah, but it's in two days, is it not?” that was a rhetorical question.
it wasn't that rin was genuinely asking whether your period was coming in two days, he knew. he was just telling you in a way that would make him feel like he held the upper hand against you, especially when it came to your own body.
he just wanted to challenge you to prove him wrong, as he always did. his confidence was always sky high— but rightfully so (in his opinion).
you blinked in surprise, grabbing your phone and unlocking it to check your period tracker. you had been losing track of time due to how busy you were that you hadn't even realised that rin was right. your period was coming in two days.
“how'd you know that?” you asked him back, seeming shocked that rin bothered to remember your monthly shark week. you were convinced he barely cared about dates that were not as important to him like anniversaries and your birthday.
“you think you're the only one with a period tracker app? i have it too.” rin answered, sounding as calm and nonchalant as he always did.
come on, it wouldn't hurt for him to show even an ounce of emotion. it was already so painfully obvious how much he loved and cared for you, it wouldn't bring any harm to be nice to you every now and then, would it?
“you're such a creep.” you tried to tease him in a serious tone, biting back the smile that threatened to show on your face. you were trying to get him to show his rare soft side.
but rin was one step ahead of you. he knew you better than the back of his hand, and he didn't hesitate to tease you back.
“i’ll take it as you don't want my gift then. might as well give it to another girl who'll appreciate it more than this ungrateful brat.” as if to entice even more of a reaction out of you, rin slowly edged his hand closer to the basket, threatening to take it away from you.
“what?! no! don't you dare!” you gasped, immediately hugging the basket protectively like it was your newborn baby.
that was exactly the reaction rin wanted out of you.
his cold facade was unable to further resist your cuteness and started to crumbled as a faint smirk ghosted his lips.
his hand that was once edging towards your basket (technically his, since he was the one that paid for everything) moved towards the top of your head to ruffle your hair.
silence filled the room, and you looked up at rin patiently with an anticipating smile on your face, waiting for him to finally say the words he had been holding back all this while.
“ i... i love you.” he eventually whispered out with a defeated sigh, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “don't ever forget that, ‘kay?”
rin knew he was bad at expressing his emotions. but he wanted to make sure to remind you from time to time that his feelings for you would never change. not now, not ever.
ᯓ★ michael kaiser ᝰ.ᐟ
“come.” kaiser patted his lap, a coy smirk on his lips as his sapphire eyes observed your figure standing by the bedroom door, not moving despite his command. “hurry up meine liebe, i don't have all day.”
those words were what finally made you obediently walk towards where kaiser was seated at; the chair just by the vanity table you both shared.
he rested his hand on the vanity table, rhythmically drumming his index finger on the surface of the table as his eyes remained fixated on you.
kaiser was a bold individual, and it was something you both hated and loved simultaneously.
he never tried to hide the fact how his eyes were always lingering on your body, staring at you like you were the next prey he wanted to devour.
even now, he watched intensely as your hips swayed from side to side while you walked across the bedroom to make your way towards him.
it was almost like you were strutting into the lion's den, volunteering to be his next meal.
and even as you finally lowered your hips and straddled his lap, kaiser didn't look away from you for even a second, the smirk on his face only growing more smug and cocky.
“you’re so cute, i can't tell if you're doing this on purpose to seduce me or not.” kaiser couldn't help but tease you, noting how your cheeks were rosy and the way you were trying to avoid his intense stare.
“quit it, mihya. didn't you say you were in a hurry?” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's antics. it left you all weak and flustered, and you knew that kaiser took pleasure in seeing how he had the upper hand against you everytime.
you were nothing but a little mouse the lion planned to toy with for amusement before he eventually wolfed you down in his stomach.
“the emperor chooses his next move.” kaiser pointed his index finger at your cheek, slowly inching closer before gently giving you a little poke. “not you.”
despite his words, kaiser moved his hand away from your face to stop messing with you as he was not lying about being short of time.
his hand felt around the vanity table, before coming into contact with just the object he needed.
using his free arm to wrap around your waist to keep you steady in his lap, kaiser brought the eyeliner pen to his lips, using his teeth to bite the cover off before securing it on the back of the pen.
“be a good girl and sit still for me, hmm? i don't have time to redo it if you make me mess up.” typical of kaiser to push the blame onto you if he messed up. he was an egoist, thus his mistakes were never his. it was always someone else's.
he kept his hand steady as he moved the eyeliner closer to your face. once the tip of the red tinted pen was close enough to your skin, you closed your eyes so that kaiser could have an easier time applying it on you.
“you're so adorable for wanting to match with me, you know that meine liebe?” kaiser chuckled, using short and gentle strokes to draw the eyeliner onto your eyelids, just like how he would to himself every morning before he started his day. “you'll look gorgeous once i’m done with you, i promise.”
the room fell into a comfortable after kaiser's reassurance, as kaiser decided to direct his full focus on helping you apply the eyeliner. he didn't want to risk messing up.
afterall, he wouldn't have time to help you redraw it due to him having to rush to practice right after this.
you could feel goosebumps surfacing on your skin when you felt kaiser's hot breath hit your cheek. no doubt that he was intentionally leaning in closer to you just so he could get a reaction out of you, as he always did.
you could picture it in your head: his head tilted in an angle, his eyes squinted in concentration while gently drawing on your eyelids. it felt so comforting that you felt like you could fall asleep on his lap, but you resisted the urge to do so.
the sensation of kaiser stroking the eyeliner against your eyelids stopped, before the sound of him popping the cap back on the pen was heard.
“open your eyes, pretty girl. we're all done.” kaiser placed the eyeliner back in the drawer, his other arm still securely keeping you on his lap by holding your waist.
when you opened your eyes, kaiser's face was just inches away from yours. your eyes widened slightly at how close he was to you, trying to remain your composure.
the cocky smirk on his lips proved that he did this on purpose to entice a reaction out of you. before you could resist, your boyfriend leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your lips.
“take a look in the mirror, liebe. don't you just look so beautiful?” kaiser whispered huskily in your ear, gently grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger and guiding your face to turn towards the mirror on the vanity table.
you took a closer look at the reflection in front of you. you, sitting intimately on kaiser's lap whilst he had an arm slung around your waist and the both of you having matching red eyeliners. it looked…
“perfect.” you whispered it out loud without realising.
“oh? what was that?” kaiser leaned his ear closer to your mouth, taunting you to speak up so that he could hear you say it again, but louder.
“i said it looks perfect.” you replied without hesitation, and kaiser seemed satisfied by your obedience today. it was always a nice sight whenever you played along with his annoying and teasing nature.
“and you're perfect for me, liebe.” your boyfriend moved his hand to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing the fat of it. “you don't understand how grateful i am to have you by my side.”
and you could just about say the same thing about him.
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yndrgrl · 10 months
Text
yandere! kiribaku are your gym crushes, & you're their obsession
long ass fic. polyamory. quirkless! au. established! kiribaku. switch! kiribaku
warning: nsfw, voyerism, kiribaku seggsy time, stalking, spit-roasting, double penetration, cockwarming
a/n: i hope y'all like big boyz (please request scenarios) also can someone tell me how to reply to comments or something... idk how to. also writing this took forever cuz it kept deleting parts frfr
let's be mutuals :) insta: thebufferfish
---
kirishima was the first one to notice you out of the pair. you showed up at the gym an hour after him & bakugou arrived. something drew him to you, his eyes trailing you into the locker room.
you didn't wear anything "high fashion" per se, just what you felt confident in. boy, did it show. you walked back out with a certain aura around you-- sure, ready to work, & determined. whatever goal you had in mind for that training session, you were going to achieve it, kirishima could tell.
"oi! what are you looking at, shitty hair?" bakugou scowled as he arose from the bench, reracking the weight then followed his boyfriend's eyes. he saw your figure facing away from him. you were on the treadmill at walking speed. his breath hitched for a moment, but he blamed it on working out. he tried to rationalize that he hasn't even -technically- seen you, & you're probably just an extra in his movie anyways.
after your warmup, you went for a squat rack, where you would stay for a good portion of your workout. you started off with squats-- tried & true. you had big, bulky headphones on & your hair tied up out & away from your face.
bakugou & kirishima got a good look at your face through the reflection of the giant mirror that lined the walls. you loaded your weight for your warmup, & bakugou scoffed.
"what is that chick even doing?" he rolled his eyes to kirishima, turning his back on you. he swatted away any curiosity that he had for you.
he heard you rerack the weight, take off the clip, & slide off your warmup weight. he examined kirishima's usual happy expression turned into one of shock, approval, & a hint of arousal. bakugou would've been offended, jealous, cursing his boyfriend with every name under the sun due to this reaction.
"what is it now?" he groaned, turning his head back to face you. he was expecting maybe you flashed kirishima, maybe you somehow seduced him with siren power, but he wasn't expecting you, with a leather weightlifting belt strapped against your stomach, squatting way more than expected. if they were being honest, it almost looked inhuman, yet you had no indication that you were struggling.
kirishima breathed out, "you know, kats, she's actually kind of strong."
bakugou knew kirishima, of course he did. he knows all the little tendencies he does when he feels a certain way. when he's nervous, he has a smile that's stretched a little too wide; when he's angry, his normally-bright red eyes turn blood crimson-- almost black. that's why, when he saw his partner adjust his pants & bite his lip, he knew kirishima was undoubtedly attracted & turned on.
"is that all it takes to get you going?" bakugou barked at the redhead, angered, not because he was jealous, but because he was puzzled. truly puzzled. he was so content with the life that him & kirishima had, the routine they fell into. wake up together, get ready & eat breakfast together, have some morning fun, go to the gym, work, come home, have more fun, sleep. that was their life.
yet here comes you, a random stranger with the brute strength of hercules & the beauty of a goddess. you wrecked their unsaid routine.
"what are you talking about?" kirishima questioned when he tore his eyes away from you. he just watched you add more weight to your next set.
"are you that easy?"
"katsuki, you're one to talk," kirishima laughed, switching positions with his partner so he could begin his set of bench press. "i saw you look straight at her ass, & don't deny it 'cuz i watched your eyes."
"i don't know what you're talking about," katsuki growled. his boyfriend unloaded the weight, bringing the weight down to his chest then pushing it back up. even when struggling under a mass of metal, kirishima had a small smile on his face.
"yeah, you do," kirishima uttered out between his reps. "i can see your hard-on right now."
"shut up!" bakugou yelled. kirishima & bakugou's eyes darted towards you & met your semi-scared gaze in the mirror.
"katsuki," kirishima reracked his weights then sat up.
bakugou lowered his voice, saying, "listen, shitty hair, i'll admit that she got me a little bit hard, okay? but i'm not going to do anything about it, i'm loyal to you-"
"i want you to," kirishima laughed, cutting off his partner's endearing, aggressive rant.
"what?"
"i want you to do stuff to her," the redhead reiterated, "i want to do stuff to her. honestly we're both attracted to her, & i wouldn't mind sharing you if it's with someone like her."
"what if we get to know her?" kirishima suggested, sly smirk glued on his face. bakugou couldn't help but copy.
that night, after snooping through your gym bag when you went to the restroom, they found out your name was y/n l/n & your instagram username, thanks to your notifications.
over a quick dinner they made when they got home, they scrolled through your posts. they learned that you were nineteen, three years younger than them. they found what college you're studying at & what major you went into. more importantly, they found all the progress pictures, selfies, & outfit-of-the-day pictures.
whether it was posts themselves or past stories, they screenshot them all. every single one. the more they looked at you, the more they realized how good of a choice they're making by perusing you-- not that you knew that yet.
then they found the gold mine. you're a college girl trying to live it up while you're still young, that much they gathered. what they didn't expect was to see you & your friends (the important part is you though) in costume that bordered lingerie. the post's caption was, "baby rave!"
it felt sinful to see you in such a way. at the gym, you're pristine, well-mannered. in this post, however, you are a complete party girl with lights of different colors radiating, confetti in your hair, & an alcohol-induced flush on your face.
you wore a dark red bikini top that barely held your breasts. metallic chains draped around your body, all connected by a black pearl choker. your bottom matched the top, & you wore ripped-up fishnets underneath.
if bakugou & kirishima were there that night, they would've fucked all of your holes in the middle of the mosh pit.
grunts & sloppy slurps echoed off the walls of the room they shared. "ah, fuck, eijiro," bakugou groaned, his eyes shifting to the man sucking his cock to the pictures of you at a rave, letting your friends jokingly squeeze all over you. he wishes that was him & his boyfriend's hands all over you.
kirishima coughed, spit & pre-cum mixed sliding down bakugou's cock. "choke on that dick, babe," the blonde taunted. in response, kirishima shoved his head down onto his length then moaned. the vibrations sent shock waves through bakugou through the tip & into the rest of his body.
not long after, bakugou forced kirishima on his feet. he stood with him, both of their impressive sizes in his grasp, pressed against each other. he spat onto kirishima's girth, & already was kirishima jacking his hips forward for friction. "god, fuckin' do it already," demanded the redhead, biting his lip. bakugou stroked their cocks simultaneously as kirishima crashed his chapped lips against his.
soon, they were moaning into each other's mouths, eyes cracked open to see the picture of you propped now on the bedside lamp. "oh fuck, i need her so bad," bakugou admitted, & kirishima's heart leaped out of his throat. he could've won a marathon with how wide his panting smile was.
"tell me how bad you need her, kats~" kirishima said as he slipped out of his boyfriend's grasp & got behind the blonde. he reached around bakugou's waist, making him face the photo of you with your hands spreading your ass ever so slightly, only fishnets & a bikini bottom covering your most precious parts.
the bulky redhead, with his other hand, lined his tip with bakugou's hole. "i need her bouncing on my cock while she's choking on your massive fuckin' dick," bakugou responded, & he was rewarded with kirishima pushing past his entrance with his tip & him pumping faster.
"what else? that can't be the only thing," kirishima laughed. "i know how crazy you can actually be."
"'gonna ruin her so bad, she'll only need us. god, she's gonna become our cute, little house wife."
"oh yeah?" kirishima pushed his entire shaft into bakugou asshole, & they groaned together. bakugou leaned his body into the bigger man, shutting his eyes as kirishima pumped him hard, thrusting in & out of him.
"fuck yeah," said bakugou, "she's gonna -harder, bastard- she's gonna our fucktoy house wife, addicted to our cock. i'm gonna fill her up every night of the rest of her life, i swear to god."
they both looked back at your picture, your stunning body, every curve & every muscle & every stretch mark. they were obsessed, needy. "f-fuck, ei, i'm gonna cum," bakugou choked out, brows furrowed & concentrated on your photo.
"me t-too," kirishima said, thrusting harder into his boyfriend. thinking about you already felt good, so what would it feel like if you were actually here? they both wondered. great minds think alike, after all.
in kirishima's hand, bakugou's cock started to throb, jets of cum shooting out & onto your picture, all over the night stand. kirishima followed in suit; he pulled his cock out of bakugou's gaping hole & jerked himself off to you. "y-y/n," he moaned, releasing his cum all over you.
you didn't know any of this, you didn't know just how badly they wanted you, what they did to the mere thought of you. you were unaware of a lot of things, it seemed to them. you didn't know how perfect you were, always hiding your stomach by crossing your arms over it when you sat down. you didn't know how much you teased them when you swayed your hips.
& you didn't know how much you ruined their daily routine.
they found themselves less present at the well-oiled machine of a company they own; not that it mattered, they only go for a few hours every week just for check ups. they spend an ungodly amount of time at the gym, taking note what time you show up on certain days. they figured out your workout routine, what machines you like using, how often you refill your water bottle, what supplements you take.
you couldn't help but notice them as well-- not to the extent they notice you though.
they were eye-catching, everyone in the room would find themselves magnetized to their hulking selves.
bakugou was intimidating, wearing tank tops & loose fitting pump covers. he was at least six foot two, weighing in at 230 pounds of nothing but pure, raw muscle. he looked like he was born with a scowl on his face. unkept, wild ash-blonde hair, a small stubble growing in neatly.
kirishima was the opposite. he was approachable, a friendly giant. he was bigger than his counterpart, standing at a terrifying six foot six & weighing nearly 300 pounds. he was always found with a smile on his face-- happy to be there. he wore tight fitting, long sleeve shirts. small scars littered his hands & clean-kept face.
they shared one thing though, their demon red eyes, lasered in with focus & intent.
you noticed them & how ridiculously handsome they were. just from their appearances, they were just your type.
you moved into the city from a small town on a full-ride scholarship to the local university. you wanted to experience everything city life had to offer because everything was different. from the concerts to the markets to the men. no one would ever describe you as meek in most aspects of your life. in school, you were hard-working; in your career, you were ambitious! however, when it came to your love life, you were subtle.
other girls approached the two musclemen, chatting & giggling. you watched as the girls gave them their socials before leaving to finish their workout. you, on the other hand, would use a machine close to the one they were using. yup. that was it. that was your grand, big gesture of flirtation & seduction.
when you got lucky & they would look your way, you averted you eyes every time with a dark blush (that you blamed on your workout) as heat flashed through your body. you were only meant to watch from afar, you thought.
bakugou was the first to approach you. blunt as ever, too. it made kirishima want to die of embarrassment. "oi! you!" he called out, but you could barely hear his voice through your noise-canceling headphones. you pushed one side off of your ear, turning your head to see who he was talking to. it was you. "you new here?"
it's been two weeks since you started going to this particular gym, which means it's been two weeks since they've been trying to get your attention so you'd talk with them.
"oh, uh, yeah, i am," you told them as you slid off your headphones, letting them hang on your neck. the music buzzed quietly, you doubt they could hear the song. "j-just moved here." you cleared your throat. since when do i stutter, you mentally face-palmed.
"really? from where?" kirishima butted in. them standing in front of you, only a few feet away made you feel tiny.
you said the name of your town, & bakugou snorted, "i've never even heard of that place. sounds lame."
"compared to here, it is. there's nothing to do over there besides working out & hike," you said with a small smile. most people said that about your town so you never really took offense.
"how do you like it here?" kirishima asked.
you could gush about the city all day. you didn't want to bore them though. "i love it here! there's always something to do. the other day i went to my first rave, & there were more people there than people that live in my old town!"
kirishima laughed at your sudden excitement. they were both relieved that you weren't a raging bitch, that you had such a sweet, lovely personality. truly, beautiful inside & out.
in the city, it was so hard to find gems, yet, without even needing to look, they found you. that must mean that you were meant to be theirs, right?
"tch, you probably aren't that interesting, huh?" the ashen blonde spat, even though he was completely enamored by you.
it caught you by surprise. "you're one to talk, big guy. i've probably lived more life than you," you barked back, half-jokingly & half-warning.
with a staggered laugh & a glance at his amused/annoyed partner, kirishima said, "you got a bite on ya', i like that. please excuse him, he's intimidated by pretty ladies like you."
the people back in your old town always told you that city boys had no charm, that they weren't capable of actual romantic emotion, but this red-haired, toothy-grinned man is proving them all wrong. he was smooth with words, easing your mind.
"i'm eijiro, by the way," he said to you with his hand outstretched.
you secured your weights before taking his hand, to which he gently turned yours & placed a chaste kiss on your knuckles as you were introducing yourself. "i-i'm y/n."
anyone else would've been unbelievably jealous that their hunk of a boyfriend is -very clearly- flirting with another person, but bakugou honestly didn't care. in fact, he was giving eijiro a look that told him to keep going. bakugou knew that, out of the two of them, eijiro was more inviting.
you turned your attention away from eijiro. bakugou took this as a sign to introduce himself. "katsuki."
"katsuki," you repeated, holding out your hand to shake his. "got it, i'm y/n," you said in case he didn't hear you the first time.
the only ones who call him by his first name is his parents, his hunk of a boyfriend, & now, you.
eijiro & katsuki shot a look over you. "do it" eijiro could practically hear his partner demand. "so, y/n, have you been to any good restaurants?"
"there's a few i really like! i haven't seen any with my favorite food though," you said, & that made you remember that you were insanely hungry. as if on cue, your stomach grumbled in complaint. embarrassed, you tried to cough to cover up the fact you could eat a horse & then the whole barn.
eijiro shot you a smile. if he heard your stomach, he didn't say anything. instead, he offered, "what's your favorite food? i promise you that kats & i know a place."
you told them what your favorite food. they already knew though; you loved to post about it on your instagram highlights.
"no way, we were just about to head out to get some! you should come with," eijiro offered.
"i-i don't know," you said as you rubbed your arm. what if he's just being nice? what if he felt like he needed to invite you? those questions & then some circled your head.
"what don't you know, sweetheart?" eijiro questioned as he took your hand again, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. "we're not scaring you, are we?"
"n-no! that's not it!" you quickly denied. you didn't mean to give them that impression-- even though you were slightly intimidated by them. however, you were more nervous than anything. your two gym crushes are, not only, in front of you, not only talking to you, but inviting you to a restaurant with them. in your delusions, you pretended that it was a two-way date, even though it was just a friend hangout for sure.
"then what is it, baby?"
"you can just say you don't wanna go," katsuki said, rolling his eyes.
of course you wanted to go! it was a dream to have an opportunity to get closer to the two. "i do wanna go!"
"okay, then what's stopping you?" katsuki scoffed.
you admitted sheepishly, "i kinda spent a lot the other day on groceries & things from amazon."
eijiro was silent at first, then started laughing. "you're cute," he sighed as he let your hand go.
"listen, he didn't ask if you had money. he asked if you wanted to come with us, dumbass," katsuki said with a smirk. eijiro & him, before approaching you, had a long talk about how he needed to be nicer, so his lips turning upward ever so slightly was his "nicer."
"kats," eijiro warned, narrowing his eyes at his partner. katsuki gave a shrug as a response.
"i mean," you began, their attention turning towards you, "if you say it like that, i couldn't miss out on some good food." like a weight being lifted off of eijiro's chest, he let out a deep sigh of relief.
after you finish your last set, you headed to the locker room to freshen up while they waited for you. you fixed your hair, applied more deodorant just in case, & change your shirt-- also just in case.
they led you out of the gym, katsuki slightly in front of you. though his rough exterior, you saw how he was trying to be gentlemanly by making sure you were following him to the car. eijiro, once the car was unlocked, opened the passenger-side door for you. "are you sure?" you questioned while he slid off your duffel bag from off your shoulder.
he replied back, "yeah, i sit up there all the time anyways. it's tons more comfortable in the back for me."
you reluctantly sat in the front seat. the redhead threw himself into the back, placing your bag on the ground beside his.
katsuki slid into the driver's seat with his gym bag in hand. the moment eijiro sat up properly, katsuki threw his bag at his face.
laughter bubbled from you as you gasped out, "that was so mean!"
"yeah, that's why i did it," katsuki replied, getting more giggles out of you. he was in cloud 9, & so was eijiro. katsuki let himself relax to your laughter, falling for your voice. it was ten million times better than his favorite song, & if he had to choose his top band of all time or your voice, he'd never listen to the band ever again. eijiro would allow himself to get hit in the face with katsuki's duffle bag a thousand more times to see that expression on your face. smile wide, mouth agape, as you laughed for him.
"jerk," eijiro muttered, slapping the driver's shoulder.
"whatever," katsuki replied as he backed up the car, "it made the pretty girl over here laugh, so i don't really care if i was being a jerk."
you blushed at katsuki's sudden compliment. eijiro also seemed surprised. "i didn't think you had it in you, kats," eijiro praised, you thought it was because eijiro was just being a supportive friend. the other two knew that it was because of something deeper, something they've worked through in their relationship.
"hey, i got an idea," eijiro started, changing the topic, but you still couldn't get over how flirtatious the two were being. "how about we order takeout from the place? it's pretty busy around this time, so it'll be a wait until we actually get to sit down & eat. is that okay with you, y/n?"
"uh, yeah! if that's what you guys want to do, i don't mind," you said. "where would we eat though?"
"we can go back to our place?" eijiro suggested.
"yeah, i'd be okay with that as long as the two of you are okay with me coming over?"
"we are, don't worry," eijiro said, fishing his phone out of his gym bag. "i'm gonna start ordering, okay?"
while he ordered online, you began talking with katsuki. "i didn't know the two of you were roommates."
"roommates? yeah, i guess we're something like that," katsuki replied. he placed his right hand on the gear stick; he tapped his finger to the beat of the song you decided to play after they practically forced the aux cord into your hand.
"well what else would you call the two of you?"
"no, roommates describe us pretty well," katsuki lied. in his head, it wasn't technically lying. they split the chores, the bills, the rent, just like real roommates do. they grocery shop, they clean, they take turns mowing the lawn & keeping their plants green. the only difference is that they suck each other's dicks & fuck each other in the ass... roommates for sure.
katsuki glanced in the rear view mirror & made eye contact with eijiro. the shark-toothed man rolled his eyes with a knowing smile then continued to pay for your guys' food. he asked you earlier on the way out of the gym what you wanted to order to save time since he already planned in head you were going home with them.
"so how long have you guys been friends?" you asked to fill the silence.
"we've been friends since freshman year of high school," eijiro told you. he wasn't ready to reveal his relationship & how he wanted you to be a part of it yet as he didn't know your stance on polyamory.
"that's a long time! i don't have any friends from high school honestly," you recalled, your town was pretty small after all so all the people were just clones of each other, & it freaked you out.
"yeah, we're pretty good friends. i know kats here inside & out~"
by the time you arrived at the restaurant, the food was done & packaged. "i'll go get it, be right back," eijiro announced before getting out of the vehicle. katsuki had enough curtsy to park in the nearest space closest to the entrance.
"i'll come with you to get the drinks," katsuki said, unbuckling his seat belt. "just stay here & be pretty, easy enough, right?"
"oh, o-okay, i guess," you replied. the keys stayed in the ignition, air conditioner pumping cool air throughout the car. you pulled out your phone, texting your college friends about what was going on.
outside, eijiro pulled katsuki close, whispering in his ear, "be nice or i'll make you."
katsuki pried his lover's hand off of his neck with a scoff. "i am being nice. look at her, she doesn't care."
"i swear to god, katsuki, you're gonna fuckin' pay if you scare her off," eijiro threatened through gritted teeth. he brushed his fingers on katsuki's semi-hard cock through his sweatpants. eijiro took a deep breath, & katsuki stared at him with an amused expression.
by the time you looked up, they were already headed back with a plastic bag full of food & specialty drinks they wanted you to try. you smiled at the two of them, unlocking the doors when they got to the car. you didn't see the interaction between the two of them moments before. maybe if you did, you'd put two & two together.
the drive to their apartment only lasted a song & a half. you were expecting to pull into a regular, slightly warn-down apartment complex with four floors of rooms. instead, they drove into the parking lot of a glass building, a skyscraper to you-- just another tower to city folk.
"woah," you said, though you didn't mean to. "what is this?"
"it's where we live," katsuki said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"but... how? it's so fancy," you gasped.
katsuki parked the car as eijiro chirped, "you haven't even seen our apartment."
to call it an apartment was an understatement. it was a penthouse that could fit your apartment three time & still have room left. it was luxury at its finest, if you do say so yourself. you couldn't fathom how this could be someone's "regular."
the statement wall was nothing but glass, sunlight spilling into the living room. the high ceiling -along with the two men who towered over you- made you feel miniature. the decor matched the house, yet it didn't match eijiro or katsuki. it was pristine, minimalistic. when you pictured a boys' apartment, you thought it would be messy with random decor that don't match. hell, your dorm room was messier than their entire penthouse! at least, from what you could tell.
as they took off their shoes, you followed in suit. eijiro took you by the hand, saying, "allow me to give you a tour, sweetheart."
"i-if you insist," you stuttered out; you weren't used to the physical contact, even though it's happened a few times already. he showed you to the kitchen, which had a beautiful backdrop that complimented the countertop. all their kitchenware matched because why wouldn't it? even their barstools matched!
the dining space was nothing but a glass table with black chairs. the centerpiece was a black-tinted, glass pitcher with fake locks of wheat inside of it. "pretty cool, isn't it?"
"so fancy, i'm kind of nervous honestly," you half-joked, half-told-the-truth. seriously, who were these two? how could they afford this at their age? you figured they were around your age, maybe a few years older than you. you've met people who are twenty years older than you who don't have living spaces as nice as eijiro's & katsuki's.
"what? why?" asked eijiro, who sounded slightly offended. he caught that you were joking, but he was curious what made them so intimidating.
"it's just you guys are so put-together. i've never met anyone like the two of you," you told him, & it was true. you've never seen anyone so well-built in all aspects of their life.
eijiro laughed as he ran his fingertips through his spikey hair. "trust me, we had to work our asses off for this place. all the furniture & stuff came with it, so we never changed it."
he started to guide you to the living room, showing off all of their consoles that sat on the tv stand shelves. "any game you wanna play, we got," katsuki said from the kitchen, sounding proud of their collection.
"it's true. we love video games," eijiro told you with that same, charming grin that gets your face red. the way he kept flashing the smile made you think he knew how flustered it got you. "let me show you the rooms. that's probably the only place we decorated on our own."
as he led you through the hallway to the bedrooms, you took note of the framed pictures hung on the wall. it was a mixture of photos of katsuki & eijiro on their own & them two together. "you guys must be close," you stated, pointing out the obvious.
"yeah, we're really close," he said back. "believe it or not, but he's softened up over the years. katsuki used to be so much meaner back in high school."
"that's neat that you guys basically grew up together. i never really had like, a best friend," you revealed. you don't know why you were telling him this, you felt like you could though. "i'm jealous of people who can make those connections honestly."
"i lucked out. it's pretty hard to make deep connections, like you said," eijiro agreed, opening the door to guest room/office. "you make it sound like you've never had a relationship."
"i mean, technically i have," you admitted-- you didn't want to seem lame or inexperienced in front of him after all. "just not a long term one. it's hard dating in a small town where everyone already dated everyone else. you'd think that it be like, ten times easier to date in the city, but it's not!"
eijiro listened to your tangent, adoring how riled up you're getting. he didn't want you to stop, it was such an intimate moment -to him- that the two of you were sharing, just the two of you. "oh yeah? tell me more."
"my parents were right, city boys are so much more... direct. they can barely hold a conversation with me in person & over text then they flash me their... you know, thing. i mean, i get being horny & all, but i don't think i'd ever show off like that to get some. it doesn't actually work though, does it?"
"no, unsolicited nudes ever work. guys on dating sites are usually super desperate. you've already figured that out, huh?" eijiro asked, masking his anger (because you went out on dates with other guys) with fake interest. he already knows most things about you. it's not hard to get into chat logs if you know the right people.
"oh, yeah i have. i wasn't interested in this guy after one date, so i cut it off with him, but he kept texting me for two weeks straight. saying stuff like how i was a gold-digger then he'd apologize, asking for another chance."
"sounds terrible," eijiro replied as he exited the room, you following close behind. he opened the only other bedroom door, telling you briefly that it was his-- he's not a liar, he's just not telling the full truth. he sat down on the bed & offered a spot next to him so you can comfortably tell him all the things men did to you.
"maybe you're looking in the wrong places," said eijiro, his voice dropping an octave lower. his face inched closer to yours, but you didn't notice as you continued your rant.
"it is terrible! another guy took me on a date to this really nice restaurant & he brought both of his parents & his little sister! said something about how we were going to get married because it was god's plan. it was actually really scary at the time. i give up on dating."
"i don't even know where to look! i mean, i guess the gym is a good place to find guys with goals like mine; they're usually misogynists or taken though. you & katsuki are the only ones i'd actually date though, but you guys are swimming in girls-" you cut yourself off once you realized what you just said so clearly. "i mean, i know you guys aren't interested, & it's weird to have two crushes-"
"calm down, sweetheart," eijiro interrupted, & you looked up at him. you almost jumped once you saw how close he actually was. the tips of your noses nearly touched, his left hand was propped behind your back against the bed, his fingers toying with the waist of your pants. his other hand rested on your upper thigh. "i just need to know before i say anything more. do you think i can handle me?"
you nodded, shrinking away from him. could he hear how your heart pounded against your rib cage? your heartbeat rang in your ears as it muffled whatever he was saying. your voice was caught in your throat; you knew if you tried to talk, you'd just squeak.
"do you think you can handle katsuki?"
you nodded again.
"how do you feel about both of us? can you handle both of us?" his hand traveled up your body to cup your chin. all you could do was nod. you've never really thought about two men at once before until now. "use your words, y/n."
"i-i could d-date both of you," you said out of innocences. you didn't want him to know about all the dirty thoughts swimming through your head.
"ah-ah-ah~" he tsked. "i asked if you could handle us both because if you say yes, i promise you that you'll be more than just a date to us. you'll be our pretty, little girlfriend. so i'm going to ask you again; could you handle both of us?" you let your eyes wander for just a second. you saw katsuki leaning against the doorframe, a knowing smirk on his face. his hand readjusted his member, but it only brought attention to how it tented against his pants. you gulped.
"y-yes i can, i-i can h-handle both of you," you said, intrigued, curious. you could barely spit out that sentence before eijiro crashed his lips against yours. you let out a muffled squeak, & he took that as an invitation to let his tongue roam into your mouth.
a string of saliva connected the two of you when he pulled away from you. he turned to katsuki with a lusted expression with half-lidded eyes & a toothy grin. "you hear that, babe? she wants to be with us."
babe? you thought. babe is what you call a girlfriend... or a boyfriend. they watched as you finally realized why the two of them lived together, why the photos on the wall were them doing more-than-friend poses, why there wasn't another room for katsuki. "th-the two of you are, um, a-a thing?"
"took ya' long enough," katsuki taunted, sauntering towards the two of you. he grabbed eijiro by the throat, pulling him into a rough, passionate kiss. he threw his red-headed partner off of him as fast as he kissed him. he placed his hand behind your head, colliding your lips together.
once the two of you disconnected from each other, you tried to defend yourself. "i-i'm sorry! i r-really didn't know y-you two were dating!"
"yeah, we know," eijiro laughed, his hand roaming back down to your leg. "it doesn't matter though. you're worth sharing, you know that, sweetheart? you're so utterly beautiful that we couldn't help but fall for you. can you blame us?"
"you're just our type. motivated, real. you're just so fuckin' sexy," katsuki confessed. he sat down on the other side of you. he dragged you into another rough kiss, & eijiro latched his lips onto your neck. both of their hands began to touch you all over. eijiro's hand found itsway in between your legs, & you grinded against his thick fingers. katsuki's was under your shirt, under your bra, squeezing your flesh.
eijiro whispered in your ear as you made out with katsuki, "you want this, don't you? you really want us."
you moaned into katsuki's mouth as a "yes." your panties were stained with your slick at this point. your pussy throbbed in need, how much you needed them inside you. eijiro nipped at your neck again, marking you in hickeys & love bites. you threw your nervousness to the side as leaned against their arms. both of your hands started rubbing against their bulges. you pulled away katsuki, gently shoving him away. "y-you guys a-actually want me as a, you know, girlfriend?"
"we do, pretty girl. we want to be the only ones to love you, to need you. we're going to be the only ones you ever crave," eijiro purred into you ear as katsuki threw off his shirt. "tell me everything you're worried about so i can ease your mind~"
"a-are you sure you want me?" you uttered with a reddened face. this was nothing like you've ever experienced before.
katsuki butted in, "we fuckin' need you, idiot. how clear do i need to be." he grasped you by the throat, making it harder for you to breath. "i need you."
"i need you, too, sweetheart," eijiro whispered against your neck, which was littered with red marks. you didn't even realize that he stripped down to nothing but his grey boxers. out of his waistband poked his leaking tip, oozing precum for you. "say what you want from us~"
"i-i need you too! i need both of you!" you squeaked out, though you were nervous for what the future might hold, you wanted to experience this, them, to the fullest.
"good answer," growled katsuki, slipping off his sweatpants. "now strip. you can't be the only one hiding yourself."
you did as you were told in an instant. you threw off your shirt, &, with the help of eijiro, you took off your pants. as you stripped, eijiro pulled katsuki in for a victory, sloppy kiss. their tongues fought for dominance. you couldn't help but get more aroused as you watched the two & their passion.
to return the favor, you start peppering kisses on eijiro's neck. his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to his mass by grabbing the meat of your ass. you butterfly kisses turned into desperate bites to mark him. you sucked on his most sensitive spot; he moaned into katsuki's mouth, his eyes fluttering open just to roll in the back of his head. katsuki invaded his mouth with his tongue, making eijiro choke on their mixed spit & his thick muscle.
katsuki, though his eyes were shut, pulled his boxers down & stroked his length. every up-stroke caused more precum to bead out of his tip. it dripped down his shaft, being used as lube while he played with himself. katsuki was an impatient man, though. his own hand can't keep him satisfied for long. the hand that was tugging at his dick shot into your hair. he grasped a fist full of your locks, & he forced your face against his cock. all while he made eijiro's mind numb with nothing but his tongue.
you opened your mouth. one moment you took a deep breath, the next you were choking on katsuki's heavy dick. your eyes watered as he forced himself down your throat. you felt your throat bulge, you felt yourself gag, & there was nothing you could do but choke & cry.
the ashen blonde finally pulled away from eijiro, his other hand on the other side of your head while he thrusted in & out of your mouth. "kats, baby, don't be too rough with her~" eijiro told him, but he knew katsuki wouldn't listen. in fact, he knew he would do the opposite, & that's just what he wanted.
in retaliation, katsuki thrusted deeper down your throat. your hands pressed against his hips to try & stop & catch your breath. instead, he let go of your hair & grasped both your wrists & yanked them behind himself as they straightened. you were forced to take all 9 inches down your throat. drool dripped down your chin.
eijiro unclipped your bra from behind, & he sat you on his lap. his cock stood squished between your thighs. he bucked his hips forward, & your panties began to shape to your pussy lips. the cloth rubbed against your clit, a moan bubbled from your throat, but it was muffled thanks to katsuki's prick thrusting in & out of you mouth. "you said you can take us, prove it," hissed katsuki, glaring down at you while he fucked your pretty, little mouth.
eijiro slipped off you panties, strands of your wetness snapping away the further he pulled them down. katsuki finally shoved your face off his spit-coated dick. eijiro say you against the headboard so you were sitting. he was on his hands & knees in front of you.
katsuki was behind eijiro, a loud spank jolted the redhead forward. with your spit & katsuki's precum as lube, he thrusted into eijiro's asspussy. you watched as eijiro's eyes widened & his mouth hung open. "a-ah, fuck, kats," he moaned out as he abused his hole. eijiro locked gazes with you, then gave you that same, charming smile. through the slapping thrusts that filled the room, he asked, "does this get you excited, hm? you like watching us?"
you were speechless, so turned on beyond belief. all you could do was nod.
"you're so c-cute, y-y/n," he whimpered, his fingers finding your pussy. you spread your legs wider, & your juices gushed out. he inserted two fingers, it was already thicker than you've ever handled. he pressed his mouth to your tit, flicking your nipple with his tongue. you squealed as you stared into katsuki's eyes. his narrowed eyes stayed trained on you while his cock was buried in his boyfriend's ass.
you cheeks were still tear stained, your eyes red from pleasure. eijiro inserted a third finger. a hand, your hand, shot up to cover your screams of pleasure. katsuki pulled out of eijiro. he went to their shared bed stand & used a clean towel to wipe his dick.
eijiro, with no effort, carried you on to his lap as he fell to his hip so he was sitting down. he brought your knees to you ears. katsuki sat in front of you on a chair that was beside their full-length mirror. you could see everything; you could see eijiro's cocky expression, how wet your pussy was, how excited katsuki stroked his cock. "ready to prove you can handle me, sweetheart?"
"y-yes, eijiro!" you shouted, mind clouded with lust. "please fuck my pussy!"
following your command, he thrusted his entire girth into your weeping hole. you screamed in pain & pleasure, more juices leaking onto his lap. "y-you're so fuckin' big," you moaned out. he hasn't even thrusted yet, & you already saw stars. after a moment, he moved his hips. your tits bounced with ever thrust.
in the mirror, you saw how your stomach bulged when eijiro was balls deep inside you & how it would disappear when he pulled out, only to reappear when he slammed himself inside you. his thrusts were slow, but not gentle-- unlike katsuki's. "eijiro," katsuki said, getting bored of his hand. "my turn."
eijiro rolled his eyes, but he released your legs & lifted you off of him. "bend over, sweetheart. he loves your ass," eijiro told you, & you listened. katsuki stood up as you bent down in front of him, using your hands to spread your ass & pussy lips apart.
"god, you're too fuckin' short," katsuki growled. all of a sudden, your feet were off the ground as you were still bent over. eijiro grabbed onto your flailing hands. as a thank you, you shoved his slick-covered dick down your throat. katsuki wasted no time & fucked your pussy while you were airborne. his hands carried you by your hips. he used you like you were toy, pounding your cervix with his angry tip. eijiro didn't even have to move with how much katsuki manhandled you.
you were trying to scream as katsuki picked up the pace, but all that came out was spit & gags. "you're gonna break her," mused eijiro, feeling your arms go limp. you accepted that they were in complete control, & that there was nothing you could do about it.
katsuki didn't respond. instead, he groaned between thrusts, "take. this. slut. you're. such. a. fuckin'. tease." his deep, long strokes turned shallow & spastic. shots of hot, white cum coated every inch of your pussy. it swelled in your womb; you felt katsuki's cock twitch as your pussy milked every drip. you came with him, your juices squirting onto the ground, rolling down your leg.
with a few more thrusts, eijiro flooded your throat with his cum. his salty, bitter jets dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. katsuki set you down & pulled out, & eijiro followed. their cum leaked out of your holes onto the floor, & you collapsed on the floor. eijiro held you up by your arms.
"we're not done with you," he snickered as he carried you onto the bed. katsuki, who was already laying on the bed, had you lay on top of him. he held your legs open while his tip ghosted over your asshole. eijiro was in between your legs, straddling katsuki's. he readied himself at your entrance. he bent down to kiss katsuki, then you.
he & katsuki simultaneously shoved themselves into your throbbing holes. you let out a scream. you convulsed, legs shaking while you came all over them. through your release, they picked up the pace. when one was out of you, the other was buried inside you. because of your orgasm, you were more sensitive than usual. "i-it's too m-mu-much!" you cried while you came again.
"aw~ is my baby getting over stimulated?" eijiro cooed, yet his pace was still as harsh as ever. having both of them inside you made you feel so full. you could feel how much more length katsuki had, but eijiro had more girth.
"that's a shame," katsuki snickered. his hand found it's way in between your legs from behind. using his middle finger, he started rub your clit.
"s-stop! i-i'm go-go-"
"let it all out," was the last thing you heard before everything went white. all you felt was pleasure, they pumped in & out of you.
"m-more, more, more," you mindlessly moaned with every thrust. they gave you more, just to see your face every time you came. you don't know how many times they came inside you, it was all just a blur.
you loved how full they made you. your throat was scratchy because of their cocks, because of how much you screamed your name. you were covered in hand prints, hickeys, love bites, & their cum.
you don't know when you switched positions, but now the three of you were on your sides. katsuki was buried deep inside your pussy once again, releasing his seed deep inside of you. eijiro coated your ass in cum before inserting himself back inside your asshole.
they finally stopped moving. they were still buried in your tight, sore holes. you were sandwiched between them, connected to them. "go to sleep, good girl," katsuki praised, kissing your forehead. eijiro kissed your shoulder, then the two of them shared a kiss. your eyelids immediately shut. that's when you learned that you loved feeling full when you slept.
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daisynik7 · 4 months
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Make Me Sweat
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Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Word Count: ~2.5k
cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie 
Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.
Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
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When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky.  “Told you, didn’t I?” 
Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.
You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center. 
Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”
Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching. 
Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall. 
The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral. 
“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.
Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”
“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.” 
They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.
Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror. 
You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.
Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”
Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming. 
Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”
Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”
“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”
You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”
It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”
As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit. 
“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting. 
Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog. 
“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it. 
You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"
He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”
You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."
You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"
He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."
You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”
And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued. 
~~~
After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?
You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”
Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.
He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”
You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”
He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”
You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”
He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”
“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching. 
“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”
“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”
He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”
He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you. 
“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”
You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation. 
“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs. 
“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.  
“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?” 
“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you. 
With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.
You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”
You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state. 
“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?” 
You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”
“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”
You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.
He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”
Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.
As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”
It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”
You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you. 
“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.
He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”
“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb. 
He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”
“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms. 
“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.
And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer. 
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yandere-fetish · 3 months
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Yandere Ballerino X Female Reader
Part One
warnings: slight stalking, obsession,
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Yandere Ballerino visits his regular gym and while lifting weights, he comes across a cute (H/C) woman; You. He can't take his eyes off you while you stretch your limbs out, getting ready for the intense workout you're about to put yourself through.
Yandere Ballerino is too focused on your assets to realize he's half-ass weight lifting. It gets so bad that his personal trainer, who comes back from another client, has to yell his name loud enough to catch his attention, which in turn catches your attention.
You two lock eyes before turning away.
Yandere Ballerino swears his heart bursts from his chest at your quick look. He dubs you as shy beauty now.
Yandere Ballerino can't help but blush red after your sudden expression when you notice his naked body. He automatically wants to see more of your facial expressions and experience different faces from you.
Yandere Ballerino gets mad when he's forced to focus on his strength training instead of the pretty thang that’s working the stair stepper at the moment. He continues to sneak peaks at you when his trainer wasn't paying attention— which was rare since the trainer was dedicated to his job.
You never notice the wandering eyes that stall on your figure, nor do you hear the forlorn sigh coming from his mouth at the sight of your ass bouncing up and down.
Oh, how he could only see the sight of you bouncing on his dick— wait.
What is he thinking? He shouldn't be sexualizing you! He shouldn't be paying attention to the way your breasts move when you jog on the treadmill or the way your waist looks so flexible when you're exercising on the balance ball.. but how can he stop when you're all ready so tempting on the elliptical?
He silently lamented over what other workouts you could make tantalizing.
Yandere Ballerino becomes a mess when he can't find you in the gym after so long. It gets to the point where he cancels his session with the personal trainer and asks the front desk about you.
Yandere Ballerino immediately whispers your name when the receptionist tells it to him after sliding a hundred dollar bill his way.
Yandere Ballerino walks away after getting what he needs from the receptionist. He grins and repeats your name as if it were his new mantra.
“(Y/N).. (Y/N). *smiles* It suits her.”
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It's been a whole week since he saw you.
Yandere Ballerino has been non stop distracted since he saw you for the first time. Wondering about you keeps him from getting his much needed sleep, focus on staying in shape, practice for the numerous positions and steps of the upcoming shows, and even having his nutrition off balance.
He was becoming obsessed with you and he's never even spoken a word to you.
Yandere Ballerino finally expresses his feelings to his teacher and mentor, desperately needing the advice.
“Teacher.. I don't know what to do! She plagues my mind with every second I'm not near her! I can't even pirouette without thinking about her!”
“Hmm.. and you're serious about this girl?”
“Yes! I only know her name, but she won't leave my head! What am I supposed to do? I can't sleep, I can't eat— I can't even practice right anymore!”
“Find her.”
“What?”
“Go out into the world and find her. Decan can hold your position for a few days— but nothing longer than a week! After that, if you can't find her, you must forget her.”
“Oh! Thank you, Teacher! I'll make sure I come back in new spirits!”
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Yandere Ballerino constantly searches for your presence everywhere. He went to the malls, the salons, the stores, and even the few parks littered around, but he still couldn't find you.
His spirits were low and the expression on his face said it all; he'd never see you again.
Yandere Ballerino was on his last leg when he walked into a coffee shop and instead of buying a drink, he ended up wearing one.
Just before he could freak out, Yandere Ballerino sees the face of his attacker and instantly melts. It's you! It's (Y/N)! The girl he's been looking for for five days straight! God has finally answered his prayers.
He silently thanks God for what he's gone through to have the two of you meet before hearing the feminine gasp and apologies from the cutie (you) in front of him.
“I am so so sorry, sir! I promise I didn't mean to…”
“It's all right… if you let me take you out for dinner?”
“Ah, um. *blushes deeply and avoids gaze* Me?”
“*smirks* Is there anybody else around who spilled their coffee on my very expensive shirt?”
“I— I'm sorry! I really didn't mean to! I should have been watching where I was going.”
“It's okay cutie.. as long as you agree to meet with me for dinner on.. let's say— Friday?”
“Okay.. *blushes* I'll guess I can go out with you on Friday since I messed up your shirt.”
“Great! Here's my number. I'll text you, (Y/N).”
After receiving your phone number, Yandere Ballerino began sweating bullets, hoping you wouldn't catch his slip up. It was too late now to regret it, so Yandere Ballerino just gives you a dashing smile and strolls right out of the coffee shop without a coffee.
You were too starstruck at his handsome appearance and his tall physique that you didn't catch your name falling from his lips without you speaking it first. You were too happy to finally have a date after so long that you were seeing stars instead of people. Your heart races and your palms are sweaty, but you try not to get ahead of yourself since it's only a date.
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Do NOT steal from my blog. I say this so everyone can enjoy my stories without the hassle of plagiarism or infringement.
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apocalypseornaw · 9 months
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Stretch it Out
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Dean Winchester x Reader
When you need help stretching it takes an interesting turn
Warnings: Cursing, NSFW things
One of the many empty rooms in the bunker had been turned into an exercise area of sorts. It'd started off as Sam's brain child for mornings he couldn't go for a run, he'd found a cheap enough treadmill and tossed it in the room. Next came the weight bench, the punching bags and eventually the mats that were used for a mixture from sparring to yoga. It had gotten turned into a pretty decent home gym.
You were alone in the room, Dean had gone on a store run and Sam was in the shower. After the last hunt you'd gotten slammed around pretty good, Cas had healed what he could but turns out even angel mojo couldn't help tight hips. You were trying your best to get them to pop because that was what you desperately needed.
You'd gotten into boxing with Donna and knew what stretches would help, the problem was you needed assistance with it and didn't want to have to drive to Sioux Falls just to get it. You could ask Sam for help but given the position the stretches would put you in, you felt weird asking your best friend to do so and the thought of asking Dean embarrassed you bad enough you'd rather go a few rounds with a rugaru then attempt it.
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You finally gave up about the time you heard Dean's voice echo down the hall "Honey I'm home" you laughed as you slipped your feet into the slides you wore around the bunker and headed for the kitchen where he was unloading groceries "I'm assuming that honey I'm home was for me or else things are really weird between you and Sam"
He stopped mid putting milk in the fridge "Sweetheart" the tone of his voice made you crack up "I'm kidding Dean. I'm kidding" he put the milk in the fridge then turned to face you, eyeing your clothes "What's with the active wear?" You looked down at yourself because you were just wearing high-waisted leggings and an old t-shirt you'd cropped off a bit because it'd been way too long to use any of the weights or punching bag while wearing.
"I was stretching out. My hips still aren't feeling quite up to par" he nodded slowly "Did you get them popped or whatever you said they needed?" You shook your head "I can't get into the positions I need to by myself" "Sam couldn't help?" He asked as you grabbed a bag and started putting its contents away.
You shook your head but didn't further elaborate. The two of you had everything put away within a few minutes. You grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and started to walk out the kitchen when Dean stopped you "Hey, let me throw on some sweats and I'll help you stretch"
You knew your eyes widened at that because he chuckled "Oh don't think I can help with stuff like that? I'm only good for the punchy stuff?" You shook your head "No Dean it's not that.." he cut you off "Good. Meet me in the gym in five" "Ok" you finally replied knowing arguing was no use.
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About the time Dean walked out the kitchen Sam walked in with his hair still wet from the shower "I should throw this damn water at you for not being five minutes faster" Sam was not ignorant to your feelings for his older brother but had guarded your secret for a while. He grinned slightly "And why is that?"
You groaned "Dean's gonna help me stretch out my hips" in that moment Sam very much looked like he may just chew his bottom lip off in an attempt to not laugh in your face at your dismay. "Oh go ahead!" You finally said and he nearly doubled over "Does he know the positioning of those stretches?" You shook your head and that only made him laugh harder.
He finally regained his composure enough to check his watch "I'm gonna go into town to the farmers market. I'll get some of those apples you like and I'll be gone for a couple hours" "Why?" You questioned but he just patted your shoulder on the way by.
"SAMUEL?" You hollered behind him but only heard his laughter in return. Dean walked up behind you and nearly made you scream when he said "What was that about?" You looked over your shoulder at him and smiled slightly "He's going to the farmers market and refused to get me apples" "You know he will" he replied then tapped your hip "C'mon"
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You stood across from Dean nervously chewing on your bottom lip. You both had warmed up enough already so you had no excuse but christ you were freaking out internally. "Ok sweetheart, where do we start?" He asked with a smile that caused your heart to jump "Um Ok. I'm gonna lay down on the mat and I need you to stand over me and I'll bend one knee then fold it over the hip on my opposite side I just need you to apply enough counter pressure"
He raised one eyebrow but nodded nonetheless "Well get into position and I'll do my job" you laid down flat on your back and swallowed hard looking up at him before bending your knee on the left side and tucking it over your right hip. He smirked slightly then leaned over "Just apply pressure until i say stop. I can handle it" he nodded "Oh I know"
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You tried that stretch on both hips hoping it would work because it was the position that gave the most room between you and Dean even if just from that position alone you were having to stare at the roof to not be staring into those green eyes that made you forget any and all thoughts. You finally rolled up into a seated position, Dean was sitting across from you on his knees "What now?"
You could feel your cheeks threaten to warm as you damn near stuttered "H-How much do you want to help me?" He watched you for a moment "I want to make sure you're not hurting. Now what do I need to do?" You nodded slowly "Im gonna lay back, I need you to kneel between my legs and put one of my legs on your shoulder then just push it down towards my shoulder applying even pressure until either it loosens up or I say stop"
He motioned towards the mat "Let's do it" good lord could he have picked a worse way to say it? You laid down and when he moved closer you felt your face begin to warm so you bit down on the inside of your cheek as a distraction In hopes it would get get your mind off the position at hand.
However nothing on earth could have distracted from from him gripping your hips firmly to pull you down the mat closer to him, spreading your legs slightly. A small gasp escaped you when your hips bumped into his then he turned just enough to gently grab your left leg and lift it onto his shoulder "Like this sweetheart?"
You knew your voice wouldn't work at the moment so you just nodded.
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There was a mantra going through Dean's head which consisted of three words....don't get hard. Damn why hadn't he just stayed in his jeans? That would've offered a thicker layer between your bodies but he hadn't realized how close the stretching required you to be besides the denim probably would've been uncomfortable to you considering you were just wearing thin leggings.
The first stretch hadn't been that bad but he noticed how you wouldn't meet his eyes while he was standing over you. Sam's words from a few days before when he'd been certain you were flirting with the bartender at some backwoods dive the three of you had stopped in ran through his head "Believe me Dean, she could give a damn less about that guy"
Then when you stuttered asking him to do this current position? Maybe he did have a chance. He had to stop a smirk from slipping onto his face when you gasped lightly from him pulling you closer and pulling your leg up on his shoulder. Not like he hadn't imagined you like this a thousand times before....of course then you weren't dressed or in the gym or just stretching.
When you finally looked up to meet his eyes he smiled "like this sweetheart?" And noticed just how wide your eyes were when you nodded.
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Your knee was nearly touching your shoulder when you felt the release in your hip and a moan that completely mortified you escaped your lips at the feeling. Dean froze dead in his tracks, your leg still on his shoulder and cut his eyes at you with one eyebrow raised "What was that?"
You covered your face with your hands "I am so sorry Dean. That just felt so damn good" he gently lowered your left leg and you expected him to walk out the room due to the awkwardness but instead he moved to the right side and lifted your leg onto his shoulder "Look at me and I'll see if i can get you to moan again from this side" he teased.
You slowly lowered your hands and he winked at you "Attagirl. We're both adults here no shame in something feeling good besides maybe it boosts my ego knowing you moaned like that and I was technically the cause of it...I mean I've heard some of your excuses for dates in the past..."
"Shut up Dean!" You laughed but he started to push your leg towards your shoulder and damn him he'd been paying attention to the last leg and knew just what angle to use because you quickly felt the release in that side and the fucking moan you let slip out was borderline pornagraphic.
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He spoke your name gently and you looked up at him. He was watching you carefully "You good?" You smiled "I'm great" you shifted your hips as much as you could considering one of them was still on his shoulder but froze when you felt something against your inner thigh "Um Dean?"
"Huh?" He asked then must have realized his body had reacted. "Oh fuck darling. I am so damn sorry" he put your leg down quickly and went to stand up but you grabbed his hand "Wait" he wouldn't meet your eyes "I'm sorry sweetheart. It's just you're a beautiful woman, the position we were in...." he groaned lightly before adding "and the noises you were making under me"
"Dean" you tried again and when he finally met your eyes you reached for his shoulders and pulled him into a kiss.
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The kiss took Dean off guard. He'd expected you to be pissed at him, hell possibly swing but the shock quickly wore off as he shifted around to push your back down against the mat. You hooked one of your legs around his waist pulling him down with you. He groaned into the kiss when you rolled your hips up to meet his.
He broke away from the kiss to look at you. You were laying under him, eyes wide and pupils blown. Your chest was heaving just slightly and a smile was playing at your lips "Sweetheart what are we doing here?" You raised an eyebrow and glanced down at where your bodies were pressed against each other, thin layers of clothing the only thing separating you "I thought it was kind of clear Dean"
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He laughed lightly then leaned down again catching your lips with his once more. He felt your hands slip under his shirt, an unspoken request for more access to him. He pulled back just enough to slip the shirt over his head and throw it somewhere behind him. He smiled when he saw your hands go towards the hem of your shirt and covered them with his own. He glanced up at you for permission and you nodded so he slipped the shirt over your head and tossed it leaving you in just your leggings and sports bra.
"Come here" you whispered pulling him back down to you. He moved from your lips down to your neck biting and sucking the skin, enjoying what sounds he could pull from you. When he kissed down your chest he felt your breathing speed up as he nipped at your breast through the cloth still covering it. "Fuck Dean" you moaned and he could've came then and there from hearing his name come out of you like that. "Let me enjoy this" he teased before pulling the bra off of you.
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The moment your chest was completely bared to him Dean leaned down flicking one of your nipples into his mouth with his tongue while his hand worked the other. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, the pleasure you were feeling when he'd barely touched you was dizzying.
He moved from your chest, kissing down your stomach and stopping just shy of the top of your leggings. He glanced up at you through his long lashes and you felt a rush of heat go straight to your core "Can I?" You nodded, lifting your hips to help him get the leggings off.
"Damn baby you're already soaked" he cooed slipping one finger inside of you causing a light gasp to slip free of your lips. He smiled wickedly then added another finger, basking in the way you moaned his name "I wanna see what you look like when you come" he spoke curling his fingers inside of you until he found that spot that made your eyes roll back. When your back arched up off the mat he chuckled "There it is"
He crashed his lips against yours in a rough kiss while he worked you over that edge, feeling you tighten around his fingers. You could feel the tension building in your lower stomach and barely got out the words "Dean I'm gonna.." before it snapped pushing you over that edge and causing your vision to go soft around the edges.
"Soo damn sexy" he whispered moving back down your body. You'd barely had any time to recover before his head was moving between your legs, you felt the first tentative lick and moaned his name loudly which spurred his actions one.
The way his mouth felt on your body had every damn nerve ending on fire. You could feel that tension building again already. You'd never come this close together but the moment his lips locked around your clit sucking roughly you were pushed over that edge yet again. He stayed working you over until you pushed at his shoulders weakly "Too much. Too much"
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He rocked back on his heels, wiping a thumb across his lower lip before sucking on it "Fuck you taste as good as you look" you smiled lazily "Normally I'd love to return the favor and I promise to next time but please will you take off your pants and fuck me?"
"Next time huh?" He asked as he pushed his pants down his hips along with his boxers then kicked them off. You'd always figured Dean was well endowed. Awkward moments with hotel showers had happened but damn he was big and thick. You licked your lips and he grinned running a hand across his cock "Like what ya see sweetheart?"
You rolled your eyes "Would like it better if it was inside me" He smirked "Well who am I to keep a lady waiting" he gripped your hips, snatching you closer to him much the way he had earlier. You could feel the head of his cock teasing your opening and could feel yourself clenching around air in anticipation "Are you sure?" He asked and you nearly whined in frustration "Please?"
He nodded as he pushed into you causing a moan to be pulled from you both once he was fully sheathed he held still to let you adjust to him. He caught your lips in a passionate kiss, tongue flicking against yours allowing you to taste yourself on him. Once the pain of the stretch faded to pressure you moved your hips against his to let him know he could move.
He started to roll his hips into yours causing your back to arch up off the mat with every movement "Fuck Dean, you feel so fucking good" you praised and that seemed to spur his movements. He changed his angle just slightly and when the head of his cock rubbed across that certain spot you could vaguely register your nails digging into his shoulders "Right there baby, please don't stop"
"Wasn't planning on it" he teased. It felt amazing but you knew you both needed a little more "You can fuck me harder Dean. I won't break" you moaned and he leaned his forehead over in the crook of your neck as his thrusts got somehow even deeper and harder. You could feel that tension building again and knew he could feel you clenching harder around him "Go ahead sweetheart. Come for me" He spoke into your skin, one hand slipping between you to rub tight circles onto your clit. You came for the third time with a scream of his name on your lips.
Once you came down from the high slightly you could feel his thrusts begin to falter. You turned your attention to him fully, kissing across his jaw and down his neck as you said "Let me feel you come Dean, please. Fill me up baby" his jaw clenched tightly at your words as his thrusts sped up chasing his own release.
He buried himself inside you with one final thrust and the feeling of him coming inside of you managed to push you over that edge for the fourth time.
He collapsed on top of you, supporting most of his body weight on your lower half so you could breath. "God damn sweetheart. I'm so fucking glad Sam didn't help you stretch" You popped his shoulder "Don't be an ass Dean"
After a moment of you both simply catching your breath he leaned up to be able to look at your face "On a serious note I don't want this to be a one time thing and not just this...I um want us to try to this I mean if you want" you laughed lightly causing him to groan considering he was still inside of you "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend after nearly fucking me stupid in the bunkers home gym?"
He nodded "Yeah?" You pulled him into a kiss before saying "On the condition that you help me make it to the shower before Sam gets back because my legs have no feeling in them after coming that much" you could see the moment the smug smirk began to pull at his face "Oh really?" You rolled your eyes and started to say something back but he chose then to pull out of you which caused another gasp to leave you.
"I can manage to help my girl shower" he added with a wink.
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"How's your hips feel?" Dean asked after you both had showered and you were laying in his bed with his arms around you. You laughed "They feel absolutely amazing"
He leaned down to kiss you but right before your lips touched you heard Sam holler "IN THE GYM? REALLY. YOU TWO ARE ANIMALS!"
Dean smirked at you "Any complaints?" "None at all" you replied pulling him into you for the kiss.
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malum-forev · 1 year
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jealousy, jealousy
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Summary: You're usually someone who preaches love but there's something about a new recruit that makes your blood boil.
Jealousy isn’t part of your vocabulary, it never has. So when you started dating Bucky you assumed it wouldn’t be a problem. Of course you noticed the widened eyes and hushed words people- men and women alike, Buck’s got game left and right- whenever the two of you would walk into restaurants. When you started pointing it out to him, he would always say: “It’s not cause they like my looks sweets, they’re afraid of me.”
Maybe at first that was the case but definitely not now, the public’s perception of Bucky turned positive. From terrifying Winter Soldier close all your doors to I’ll set my house on fire just to get a look at Daddy Sarge.
And there wasn’t anyone who loved teasing him about it more than you. Some nights, whenever he’s been especially annoying you would search his tag on twitter and read what people post about him. His cheeks would burst red and he would bring the comforter up to his face.
“Could you please stop with that!” He groaned but a smile tugged at his lips. “You know it gives me a weird feeling!”
“I would love to see the Eiffel Tower, they say Paris is beautiful this time of year. @BuckyBarnes @SamWilson.” You giggled as you brought your phone closer to your boyfriend.
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Do I even want to know what that means?”
“It’s-well- kind of when you-“ You pursed your lips and made a triangle shape with your hands. Maybe a visual aid would help?
Bucky grabbed both of your hands and brought them to his lips. “Can you please put me out of my misery?”
But today was very different, it had been for a few weeks now. There was something about the new brunette agent that rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was that she was currently rubbing Bucky’s bicep. 
Jealousy does not exist in my world. My happiness comes from within me. There is no jealousy in true love. 
You repeated this over and over in your head, raising the speed on the treadmill and focusing on the windows in front of you. You were not going to focus on the fact that there was a hot pink nail polish wearing agent openly flirting with your boyfriend. Definitely not focusing on that. 
Your heartbeat started to rush as you kept on running, seeing red. No mantra was enough, you wanted problems. You were going to go up to her and pin her down on the floor until she was patting on the mat, taking her last brea-
“You okay?” Natasha asked, placing her hand on your lower back to stabilize your body as she lowered the speed on the treadmill. “It looks like you’re trying to challenge the speed of light over here.”
You took a deep breath to calm your anger and looked at the redhead with a smile. “I’m trying to get rid of all my- you can call it extra energy.”
Natasha threw her head back with a laugh. “Bucky training the new recruits?”
“This hasn’t happened before, I’m usually very chill about everything. But there’s something about this one.” You said, forcing your eyes onto Natasha’s instead of behind you. Where they were now about to start sparring. 
Natasha’s eyes traveled from yours to behind you. “If that’s the problem then I strongly suggest you don’t look now.”
You turned your head just enough to see the young recruit asking for your boyfriends hand to stand up, putting her other hand on his shoulder as she came up. You heard her giggle as she draped her arm over his shoulder and started complimenting his new shorter haircut. But the thing that threw you over the edge was how she placed her palm against the back of his neck. 
“Excuse me.” You said to Natasha, ripping open the pocket on the left side of her tactical suit and taking out one of the small knives you knew she hid. “I just need to borrow this for a second.”
Before Natasha could even get a word out you planted both of your feet on the gym floor and sent the knife flying in between Bucky and the new agent’s face and landed on the wall behind them. Bucky leaned back a little as he felt the air rushing when the knife passed him, turning to face you with a stupid smug smile. The recruit on the other hand, fell to the floor and clutched her chest. 
Nat tried and failed to swallow her laugh.
You brushed past Bucky and the agent, who was still on the floor. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“You should really work on your aim. Someone could have gotten hurt.” She shot you an annoyed look as you un-stabbed the wall. 
You turned on your heel and debated your answer. 
Actions speak louder than words. You thought. 
Without breaking eye contact with the woman, you sent the knife flying right to the spot next to her head. With no effort the blade stuck to the foam flooring. 
“I have perfect aim.” You smiled walking past Bucky who was biting the inside of his cheek to suppress his smile.
“Are we still on for dinner Sweets?” Bucky asked, the sides of his lips curving upwards. 
“7:30, don’t be late.” You said without turning to him. 
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Part 2: jealousy, turning saints into the sea
Wanna read more like this? Here’s my latest post. 💖
Author's Note: Kinda short but I hope you guys liked it! As always my requests are always open!! Be sure to comment, like and reblog if you like!!💖💖🦾
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soullessdianthus · 8 months
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have you written anything for a perv!gromsko? he is my favorite and i would love to see you write for him!
A/N: I decided to write him in the most stereotypical way which is misogynistic (men in Poland are like this fr *COUGHS*). Just because I gave myself a pass to do that bc I'm Polish, okay? *Muah* to this anon for Polish reference! (づ ̄ ³ ̄)づ
Warnings: misogyny, sabotage in workplace, nsfw (overstimulation, darcyphilia, cockwarming, throat training, dumbification maybe?)
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✧°. Gromsko is a misogynistic kind of pervert. Born and raised in a traditional Polish family he grew unaware of his deepest, darkest desires. Until.
✧°. When you enrolled into the SpecGru forces, he couldn’t believe something as delicate as a girl found herself here, within the private military company. Of course Sobiesław knew women were stronger than it seemed, but not in a fucking battlefield. In his opinion they should worry about hearth and home not a bloodshed. 
✧°. Obviously he had been working with some scary women before, but never with someone like you – still young, perhaps naive even. Your pretty body untouched with little to no scars. You were definitely a description of a delicate flower in his eyes.
✧°. His mother and grandmother raised him well – he would never risk the life of a devoted woman in a place like this. So since the first day Kościuszko saw you enter the gym hall, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.
✧°. Perv!Gromsko would stare from his spot, surrounded by his friends, yet it was you who got his full attention. How your body flexes and muscles stretch while working out or how your breasts bounce as you run on the treadmill. Dear God, don’t give him ideas.
✧°. He was already dreaming of you riding his cock into oblivion, naked while he was in full uniform. Sobiesław’s coarse hands pressing down onto your hips, making you sink further against him and his girl mewling from pleasure.
✧°. Sneaking behind everyone’s back Perv!Gromsko would do everything to be assigned with you while on a mission. Sobiesław very carefully sabotaged your work just for the superiors to punish you. 
✧°. Why? Because he would defend you in front of them, telling them you need another chance, that he would guide you. And since he was an honored soldier within the company, they made him your temporary superior as he had a higher rank than you. From now on, he was responsible for you and your doings. 
✧°. Gromsko had you where he wanted to since the very beginning – vulnerable and dependent. 
✧°. Perv!Sobiesław believed it was meant that way, because women should listen to their husbands, right? First thing he wanted to change in your training routine was cardio. 
✧°. Your comrade told you to show up at his dorm’s door in the evening. Without much thinking of it, you came straight to him, thinking he would take you to gym – how foolish.
✧°. A loud gasp escaped your mouth, when the man that was supposed to help you with your training session was pressing your face into the bedroom’s wall as his huge hands were groping your breasts! Perv!Gromsko would correct your stamina by relentlessly thrusting into your tight cunt, causing you to beg for a break with tears streaming down your eyes. 
✧°. Evening sessions with Sobiesław became an almost daily occurrence. The man would bend you in different positions on his bed, thrusting deep into your pretty pussy until you couldn’t cum anymore. Perv!Gromsko would mock your lack of stamina and threaten he would not allow you to go on a mission if you hadn’t tried harder.
✧°. So he began training your throat breath by telling you to keep his cock in your wet mouth for a good while, sucking gently from time to time. Of course your tears and sobs were causing him to feel pity for you, but Sobiesław was doing this to help you become better! :( 
✧°. He was reading a book, the one from his grandma, while you were laying between his toned legs, keeping his throbbing member warm. You would whine from time to time from the lack of enough oxygen. But then Gromsko would simply caress your pretty, silly head and tell you how good job you’re doing. <3
✧°. “Such a good girl f’me.”
✧°. “No dalej, dasz radę, Mała [pol.: Come on, you can do this, little one].”
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heehoonieluvs · 10 months
Text
Work up a sweat
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Sunghoon x reader
Smut
The way that the members are depicted in this story has nothing to do with how they really are or how I feel they are. It is all solely for the storyline so please bear that in mind 🫶
Summary: Your friends got a free tryout with a personal trainer at the gym that they just started at. The handsome PT was VERY hands on with his work and let’s just say, he could make your legs shake from more than just exercising
Warnings: MDNI, Y/N’s friends are low-key pick me’s 🙃, cursing, french kissing, exhibition?, dry humping, oral (f & m receiving), 69, unprotected sex, ass play (f receiving), squirting, use of pet names, just straight up porn (please do let me know if I need to add more warnings 🤍)
Series masterlist
Masterlist
You don’t know what came over you when you agreed to join your friends Amy and Lily for a free tryout with a personal trainer. There was a moment before you all got ready to leave where you considered dropping out, but it would’ve be almost impossible to considering that your friends had been pestering you about doing it for weeks. And also, you didn’t have to pay for this one time session so what’s the harm?
At the moment, you were all waiting for your PT to show up so Amy suggested to warm up on the treadmill for a few minutes. The two of them were busy checking their reflections and taking selfies but you weren’t interested being a part of that. Amy and Lily were the type to use the gym as an opportunity to attract their gym crush of the day. You didn’t blame them though, they were gorgeous (you are too ofc) but it did mean that they kind of use you as leverage to flirt with guys.
Since you were a lot more shy and insecure compared to them, it was easy for them take advantage so you were guessing that they brought you along to feel better about themselves.
“Hey ladies, are you here for a private session?”
The 3 of you turned around and saw quite literally a wet dream in a human form. He wore a white tank top that showed off defined muscles and his black joggers made you all wonder how much he was packing underneath. His gorgeous smile supported with his dimple made you thank the heavens that you decided to join your friends.
“I’m Sunghoon and I’ll be your PT for today”
The three of you gave your names and he shook your hands. However you couldn’t help but notice that when he got to you, he held your hand for a bit longer and sent you a wink. Oh this session is going to be fun.
As you all followed him to the private gym on the second floor, your friends couldn’t help themselves and whispered about how hot he was and what they wanted to do with him. You never would’ve admitted it out loud but you most definitely agreed with what they had to say.
You entered the room and Sunghoon went to the corner to set up the speakers and blasted some upbeat music
“So Sunghoon, are you single?” Lily asked
Sunghoon just smiled and replied “Yes”
And obviously Amy had to pry further “Are you seeing anyone or looking for a partner?”
“No I’m not seeing or looking for anyone. Ok so let’s start with a few stretches” you were so glad he diverted the conversation. You’d rather the ground swallow you whole than listen to you friends’ unbearable flirting.
The 3 of you followed his directions behind him and reached down towards the floor. And when you thought it wasn’t over, your friends started again
“Hey Sunghoon. Could you help me stretch a bit more? I need a bit of a push” the two of them snickered and Lily added
“Me too. I love a good stretch and need you to stretch me more”
You thought to yourself “Omg have I just landed myself in some cringey storyline at the start of a porno???”
Sunghoon, being the professional that he was, turned around and just slightly pushed down on their backs before returning to his previous position in front of you.
Lily then looked in your direction. You weren’t the most flexible person so it was a bit difficult for you to keep your hands planted on the floor
“What is that Y/N? You’re not very flexible are you? You should stretch more” she laughed
If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, Amy had to add on “Sunghoon you should’ve seen her when we tried yoga. It was like watching a grandma haha. Lily and I go often though, we can show you after if you’d like”
Well didn’t you just feel on top of the world right now. You felt like a tomato and it was not because of the stretching
“Please refrain from talking about anything outside of this session. I am just doing my job as your trainer and I would appreciate if we could keep things professional thank you.” You could sense from his response that you weren’t the only one getting annoyed by your friends thank god.
“Ok so we’re going to reach down again but push further and hold it there. To make things easier, close your eyes and it will help you level your breathing”
Both Amy and Lily bent down to stretch but you took a moment to shake off your legs when you saw Sunghoon turn around and walk towards you. He came behind and placed his hands on your waist.
“Let me help you stretch a bit further pretty” he whispered in your ear and lightly rubbed your waist.
You felt the hairs on your neck prick up from his breath fanning again your neck. He then pushed your shoulders down and dragged them down your spine the further down you bent. As he pushed down on your lower back, you felt him slightly grind onto your heat.
It seemed like the other two didn’t notice anything since they weren’t making any noise. You never felt so alert but you could help it when you pushed back onto his crotch. The two of you carried on slightly grinding on each other for the entire stretch until till he brought his hand back to you waist and left to go back to his mat.
“Now we’re all stretched and can get onto the workout”
Damn it already felt like you had a whole work out with how heavy you were breathing. Obviously, Amy had to point out
“Damn Y/N how are you already out of breath. I don’t know how you’re gonna survive whatever Sunghoon’s gonna make you do”
You didn’t say anything back but you saw in the mirror in front a slight smirk on Sunghoon’s face. Oh if only you knew Amy
Throughout the whole session, it seemed like Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off you. If anyone was to walk in, they would’ve thought it was just the two of you working out together. Because he made the 3 of you do a circuit, the other two weren’t able to pay attention to Sunghoon feeling you up for each exercise. You didn’t know how much more you could take before you’d say fuck it (quite literally) and just jump his bones. Even if your friends were present.
To your relief, Sunghoon announced that the workout session was over and it was time to cool down. You thought that this would be your time to actually relax your muscles and focus on getting your heartbeat steady again. But instead it started to speed up again when Sunghoon spoke up again
“So the next stretch, you’re going to spread your legs apart and reach forward to put you hands and forehead on the floor”
He got up and added “I don’t want you to injure yourself so I’ll help you with this one”
Oh god
Once again your friend proceeded to stretch and Sunghoon made himself comfortable behind you again and mumbled so quietly that you could barely hear him
“Don’t make any noise princess”
He used his left arm to pull you back and hold you against his chest while his other hand dragged down your front and cupped your heat. You almost let out a gasp but quickly bit your lip to stop yourself. He carried on rubbing his middle finger up and down between your legs and when he dragged it to your clit, he brought his middle three fingers to put pressure onto it and rub circles before repeating the process again.
The view in the mirror in front of the both of you was so dirty yet so arousing. The thought that there was a chance that one of your friends could just look up and witness your act made you feel a bubble of excitement in your stomach
Sunghoon remembered that the two of you still had some company to he quickly ordered “Now keep your heads down and reach over to stretch on your left side”
It was getting more difficult for you to not moan out loud so you moved your head back to lean on his left shoulder and lightly panted into his ear. He turned towards you and leaned in for a kiss. It was so wet and sloppy and made you gush even more. If it wasn’t for the loud music playing, you were sure that your friends would’ve picked up on the lip smacking as you carried on swapping saliva. With a wet smack he pulled away from you lips.
“Ok remember to keep your heads down and now stretch on your right side”
When he went back in, the both of you stuck your tongues out and he started sucking you tongue in and out of his mouth. You needed to feel more so you bent your knees and planted your feet on the ground to start grinding into him palm even more as you both wiggled your tongues together. You felt the heat build up in your stomach and whispered to him
“I think I’m gonna cum”
He pressed your foreheads together and said with a smirk “Not yet baby”
You nearly let out a whine and he reluctantly removed himself from you
“Now slowly lift yourselves back up and slowly stand up”
Although you weren’t the one who had been stretching, you got up with a slight wobble from the uncomfortable feeling of wetness in your panties along with your denied orgasm. The other two didn’t question anything since it had been a hard workout.
Sunghoon clapped his hands together “That’s it for the session! Thank you for your hard work” and bowed
You and your friends thanked him back and went to gather your belongings.
“Wait Y/N, I know you struggle a bit more with your flexibility. Would you be able to stay back for a bit so I can help you out? I would feel terrible if you didn’t feel properly stretched after a workout and you don’t want to pull anything” Sunghoon said to you with a smile. And who were you to turn down such an opportunity
“Oh ok! You guys don’t have to wait up for me if you want to go home and shower?” You really hoped they would leave and not question anything since it was quite sudden. Fortunately they agreed and left, leaving you alone with the hot trainer that hadn’t taking his eyes off your ass.
Once the doors closed he grabbed you by the waist to spin you around and immediately attacked your lips with his in a wet kiss. Both of you tongues fought till he stuck his tongue all the way out into your mouth. He licked all around the inside your mouth and slightly moved back to suck your tongue all the way into his. His hands snaked down to grab a handful of your ass and you finally let out a moan. He took the opportunity to slot his thigh between yours and moved you back an forth over his solid muscles. All of a sudden he stopped everything and panted out
“Ok baby, let’s stretch you. Be a good doll and lie on your back for me” he slapped your ass and went over to lock the doors
When he returned to you, he kneeled at your head and moved you so that your head was on his crotch and you could feel his hard dick “Such a good girl. You take orders well don’t you sweet thing”
You were breathing so hard with anticipation that your squeaked out a small “yes”
He then started to rub his arms down your body, starting from you shoulders, slowly rubbing small circles over your clothed breasts and moving them down to your thighs. He took his time rubbing the creases where your thighs met your crotch and smoothed over the outside of your pussy.
Your breathing was slightly shaky and he could see from the way your chest moved rapidly so he chuckled “Are you nervous baby? You don’t need to be nervous. Daddy will take great care of you. Just take deep breaths for me princess”
As you deeply inhaled, you felt his hands grab the sides of your thighs and pulled your legs up towards your chest. You carried on focusing on your breathing as he stretched your legs so that you were bent in half and he slightly leaned forward to place your feet on his broad shoulders
“God baby what a beautiful sight. Look how much you can stretch pretty. Maybe you were faking it when we were warming up huh?” He teased
When he looked in the mirror, all he could think of was how he could easily he could shove his hard dick down your throat. If he wasn’t already rock hard, he most definitely was now
He then let out a growl and slowly bent down towards your centre “Fuck babygirl, with the way you’re stretching, you make it so easy for me to just… eat… you… up”
Without any warning, you felt his hot tongue run from your clit and all the way down the seam of your leggings and he shook his head side to side, addicted to the smell of your arousal. You could feel him take a deep intake through his nose where your clit was and he carried on licking your clothed core. But he wanted more, so he lifted your hips back off the floor and pulled the back of your leggings and panties all the way past your ass. He was too needy to pull your leggings and underwear off your legs so he bunched them at your knees and used his upper arms to press the back of your thighs down till you were bent in half.
Your head had moved so it was on the mat and his hard dick was almost pressed against your face. You could feel his breath against your exposed pussy as he brought his fingers to spread your glistening lips.
“I’m telling you, this has got to be the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen baby. You’re so creamy and look so tasty”
He took another whiff before saying “Ah daddy’s gonna drink up your juices so well princess”
And with that he dove in tongue first to lap up at your entrance. He tongue fucked your pussy and sucked at your clit harshly. God he thought at this moment that your pussy would be his new addiction and he need to taste it everyday for the rest of his life.
The music playing from the speakers did absolutely nothing to cover the pornographic sounds that came out of your mouth. Even with Sunghoon eating your pussy so deliciously while holding you down so you can’t escape, the sight of his dick on top of you was absolutely mouth watering. You brought your hand up to his hard cock and gave it a squeeze before moving you hand up and down.
Finally, Sunghoon detached himself from your pussy to let out the most delicious moan you’ve ever heard and started to grind into your hand. His moans alone would’ve probably made you cum right there.
“Oh yeah that’s right baby squeeze daddy’s cock. You wanna suck on it too? Lick it like a lollipop my gorgeous girl”
He reached down to his joggers and pulled them down just enough to release his dick. It sprung out and slapped your cheek before resting by your face.
“Suck daddy’s dick princess while daddy eats up your creamy pussy” he growled before eating you out again
You lifted your head off the ground to take his hard, warm dick into your mouth and sucked as hard as you could. The suction made him moan so loud that the vibrations felt more intense than any vibrator you had ever used. You almost wanted to scream from how good his tongue felt. You both carried on making each other feel the most pleasure either of you had ever felt. And the vibrations from your moans only intensified that pleasure.
You were so concentrated on making him feel good that it took you a moment to realise that Sunghoon started to bend your legs further back. Without any warning, his tongue flickered across your clit a few times before it ran all the way down to your asshole. It was the first time anyone had touched your other entrance and it felt so good.
“Oh fuck daddy please do that again. That feels so good” you moaned out and took his cock back into your hot mouth.
“You like it? Such a greedy baby. But daddy will give you whatever you want” he said smugly
He used your ass as leverage to pull you back and forth. His flattened tongue stroked up and down your crotch from your puffy clit to your winking rim.
“Oh shit baby I can’t get enough with your taste. This is the most delicious pussy and ass and it’s all MINE”
The slurping and moaning was so hot and the both of you could feel your orgasms building up. Sunghoon started to rut into your throat and groaned into your pussy. He so desperately wanted to moan out load and let you know how well you were sucking him off, but he wanted you to come as well so he started to suck and vibrate his moan onto your clit.
If it wasn’t for him grinding on your face, you would’ve screamed from the overwhelming pleasure. You needed to cum right now or you’d explode. So you brought your hands to the back of his head and pressed him further into your pussy. He loved the feeling of you using his face to get off that he started to thrust in your face even more. At this point you didn’t care if it was desperate, you just needed to cum, so as you pressed his face in your centre, you started humping vigorously into his mouth. The both of you were getting closer and closer. You wouldn’t stop humping each other’s faces and it was so hot.
All of a sudden, Sunghoon’s thighs started shaking and you sucked so hard as his cum spurted into your throat. It turned you on so much how YOU make his legs shake and how YOU got him to release the most beautiful moans.
He carried on twitching but he still needed to make you cum. He was craving for it. So he returned his mouth back onto your clit and created a vacuum whilst moaning from his own pleasure
“Yes. Yes. Cream in my mouth princess. Daddy wants to squirt all over his face. Drown me in your juices omg. Use daddy’s face. Hump me baby hump me”
So you carried on grinding on his face and quickened your hips when you felt an overwhelming amount of pleasure wash over you.
You screamed so loud as you squirted hard into Sunghoon’s mouth. He was completely obsessed with your taste and drank up everything you had to offer. He held your shaking leg back from closing as he slurped at your entrance.
You laughed and tried to push him away from your overstimulated pussy
“Sunghoon I’m sensitive”
“Uh uh let me drink you up baby. I’m not done cleaning you” you felt him smiling against you
At last, he slowly lowered you legs and moved so he could hover over you and kiss you.
“You did so well baby. Can you taste yourself?” he mumbled against your lips and stroked your hair
The way he looked down at you made your heart skip. This all felt so… natural
“I know this is all fast and probably a weird time, but I’d really like to get to know you. Would you like to go out for dinner with me some time soon? Of course you don’t have to say yes, I completely understand” he started to ramble with a slight tint in his cheeks
How could one be so cute after giving you the best head?
You shut his rambling up with a peck and responded “I would love to get dinner with you Sunghoon”
His precious smile just made you want to squeeze his cheeks! He gave you more pecks and leaned down to suck on your neck
“I’m still so hard baby” he groaned
“Oh yea? You wanna fuck my pussy baby?” You teased back at him
He moaned and begged “Yes please doll. Let me fuck you so hard”
“Ok then Hoonie”
After hearing that nickname and your approval, he quickly stripped you from your clothes and ripped his off himself. His well-sculpted body was everything you had fantasised about in your wet dreams. And the fact that is was paired with the gorgeous face of a perfect man written by females themselves, was just icing on the cake.
He spread your legs and spat onto your pussy (not like you needed it) before easing his way into your heat. His girth stretched you so deliciously that you felt like drooling. It was the most perfect dick ever. And it felt perfect inside you as well.
He rutted into you and stared into your eyes, leaving his mouth hanging open. The sweet melody of your moans together and skip clapping was something that people would pay to get off to. The mirrors were fogging up from the panting and intensity.
“Baby please ride me” Sunghoon panted. He did want to carry of fucking you at his own pace but he was so close to cumming and he really wanted to watch your bare tits bounce in front of him when he came.
You both flipped over and you quickly started to grind on his dick. Now that he had helped you to stretch, your hips were rapid and you angled your clit to drag along his pubic hair. It feels so good omg
Sunghoon looked down at your pussy and the way your juices coated his pubes and pelvis, he moaned out so loud
“You’re so hot oh my fucking god princess. Yes! Ride my dick like that. Can I cum inside you baby?” as he held you up and thrusted up into you, angling his hips to hit your g spot
“Oh fuck yes daddy cum in me! You’re gonna make my cum again”
“Cum with me baby. That’s it”
And just like that, you both came hard. He filled you up so full that it started to leak out of your pussy
You were both shaking so hard that you collapsed and layed on top of him.
You were both trying to catch your breath as you snuggled up together. You could feel him press sweet kisses to your hairline and he dragged his fingertips up and down your spine.
“You good princess?”
“Yea” you respond with a happy sigh and lift yourself up to sit on him
He looked up at you with such fond eyes and stroked you waist. There was a fainted mischievous smile as he brought his fingers down to where your were both connected to gather his cum that spilled out
“It’s taking all of the strength in me to not make you sit on my face and have you drip in my mouth” he groaned whilst staring at your soaking pussy. “If you’re free after this, maybe we should continue this at mine and we can find out how many times I can make you cum?”
You slowly lifted yourself off his semi hard member and situated yourself on his lower stomach. You still wanted tease him a bit more so you started to grind on his abs. Sunghoon moaned at the warm feeling and layed his head back down to try and control himself.
“I guess I’m free to do that. But only if you let me cum on your abs and suck you off in the shower” you flirted back
He bit his lip with a smile “Deal”
Oh weren’t you glad that your friends dragged you for a workout
Author’s note: Well… I did not expect for this to be that long but sleeveless Sunghoon just makes me go feral 😅 Thank you so much to those who voted for this fic and waited so patiently for it, I hope it was worth the wait 🫶 And thank you for taking the time to read my work 🩵
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watchmegetobsessed · 10 months
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ILLICIT THOUGHTS
A/N: i had to, i just couldn't not write something about this picture
WORD COUNT: 1.3k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry has been nothing but professional when it came to you, but the short skirt you wore to the office seems to crumble his whole act finally.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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After basically murdering the treadmill with his deadly tempo, now it’s the punching bag that’s suffering from Harry’s frustration. He came down to his private gym with the pure intention of getting rid of the images that haunted him all day, but the more energy he is putting into his workout, the less he feels in control of his wandering thoughts. It’s completely insane.
He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you. He’s been successful at keeping his fantasies tame even though the day he interviewed you for his assistant position he definitely wanted more from you than just your professional help, but he pushed it all into the back of his head, but today changed it all.. He knows that he is your boss and you’re his assistant and that the fantasies he’s been fighting all day are definitely way over any boundaries between employer and employee.
But fuck, that short skirt you wore today is to blame for it all!
He has seen you in outfits that appeared a tad bit riskier than your usual office attires, but nothing got his imagination rolling like the short, tight little skirt that hugged your curves today. The moment you walked in with his morning coffee in your hands and his eyes snapped from his phone to your legs, the thoughts that evaded his mind were nothing but obscene. Filthy. 
He even had to hide his erection while you went through his schedule for the day, walking back and forth in front of his desk, he couldn’t tear his eyes off you and remembered absolutely nothing of what you said. He had to pretend to take a phone call to get you out of his office so he could calm himself down enough to start working, but the fantasies stayed with him all day.
He throws another punch into the bag and it’s so hard it almost flies off the hook. Harry groans as he catches the bag and stops it from swinging around. This is not working, it seems like with each punch he just pushes you more and more into his consciousness and he fears he won’t be able to get you out of there. How is it that he is still so hung up on the images his brain has created? They are not even real, but the feelings they are causing are for sure.
Your silky looking legs are still walking around in his mind as he starts punching the bag again. But then you’re suddenly sitting on top of his desk… your skirt is riding up, exposing your round ass… he can see you bent over the desk, begging for him to touch you… your naked pussy is now right in front of him, so wet, so sweet, he wants to devour you and–
His punch gets out of control and this time the bag actually falls off the hook.
“Damn it!” he groans, sweat dripping down his face as he gets rid of his gloves and just throws it at the bag, leaving the mess untouched. Walking out he heads to the bathroom and he is quick to fill up the tub with ice and water. This is his last chance. He needs to ice his fantasies before they get way out of hand and become a problem.
Harry strips out of his clothes and with a series of curse words he gets into the water, the ice immediately practically burning his skin. It’s like Hell.
He loves it, in a weird, masochist way.
Normally he would only spend about a minute in the tub, but this time he knows he needs more. Slowly, his body cools down, his muscles loosen up and finally… his mind starts to clear out.
It’s blank. No thoughts. No feelings. But the blissfulness doesn’t last long. 
His phone is beside the tub and it chimes from a text, the sound breaks the silence and he exhales sharply as he reaches for the phone, thinking it might be his mother or sister with something silly. But then as he looks at the screen, he loses his head again.
Your smiling face is shown next to a text in the notification.
“Don’t forget, you have an early meeting tomorrow morning with Jackson Morgan.”
It’s a simple, innocent, work-related thing, you’ve sent reminders like this before, but this time… it’s not that simple.
The fantasies flood back into his mind in a split second and not even the ice cold water can keep his body cool and calm. In a blink of an eye, he is hard again.
“Shit, shit, shit!” he jumps out of the water, his cock shamelessly hardening with every passing second and by the time he stands under the shower, he is almost bursting.
This time, he can’t stop himself from wrapping his hand around the base. With his eyes closed, one hand planted onto the tiled wall, the other one impatiently jerking himself, he gives in and lets even his dirtiest thoughts take over for once and for all, hoping he just needs to get you out of his system somehow.
You, on his desk, your back arching from the top as he pounds into you.
You, bent over his desk, your ass perched up into the air, begging to be spanked and fucked.
You, sitting on his lap while he sits in his leather chair, kissing up his neck, riding him like a good girl.
You… you… you…
He imagines you in every possible position he could ever think of. All of his filthiest, most outrageous thoughts finally burst out of the box he’s kept them in in the back of his mind all this time and he just simply can’t stop until he finally finds his release. 
Normally he likes to take his time not just when he’s with a woman but when he is pleasuring himself, he loves the teasing, the edging, he is not a fan of just a quick fuck, but this time he comes way faster and harder than ever. His face is all he can think of, he can almost hear you moan his name, his fingers pulling his hair and just like that… his cum is going down the drain along with the water, his half hard cock still in his hand as he tries to regulate his breathing.
But when the pleasure worms down, shame takes its place and it’s heavy and thick.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, his chest heaving as he grabs a towel to dry himself off, hoping it would rub the shame off him as well.
How will he look you in the eyes in the morning? What if you wear something short again? He will never be able to look at you around his desk and not get hard instantly, thinking of the scenes that just gave him an insane orgasm. He shouldn’t have given in, because it only provided temporary relief, but now that he has let his fantasies loose, they will never let him rest.
He is fucked. In the worst way possible.
But little does he know, that in the meantime in a small apartment that you call your home across town, you’re lying in bed, the skirt you wore to the office today thrown into the hamper, your hands between your legs, eyes rolled back into your head as you’re pleasuring yourself. Thinking about none other than your boss, taking you on his desk, letting you ride him in his chair, or pounding into you from behind while you’re watching the city through the floor to ceiling windows of his office… His hand holding a handful of your hair as he pulls on it…Fucking you like no one did before, because you haven’t been able to think of anyone else since the day he interviewed you for his assistant position…
READ PART II. NOW: ILLICIT TEMPTATION
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kooktrash · 1 year
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romantic dreams | jeon jungkook [teaser]
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summary: he’s always dreamt of finding his soulmate in some romantic way, bells ringing, birds chirping, maybe even a shine of light over their head. he never imagined to find them living next door to him with absolutely no clue to the extent of the growing infatuation he has toward you until it’s a little too late. hypnotized by your entire existence he finds his dreams and delusions of love to be a little too intense for anyone to bear.
➣ genre/au: yandere jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], neighbors au, smut, angst
STORY POSTED
➣ 1.4k words
warnings: yandere. smut. jk is obsessed and a stalker. toxic. manipulation. gaslighting. he’s a gym rat who listens to deftones, nirvana, korn, pierce the veil, etc. he watches y/n through cameras. delusional jk. he’s intimidating and a huge asshole to everyone but y/n—like genuinely not a good person lol but he has nipple piercings and a six pack. goth jk. calvin klein jk. y/n is strong minded and a bit cruel at times. dom/sub/switch themes but not intense. rough, passionate sëx. mornings to come. no dubcon/noncon, fully consensual
song inspo: tempest — deftones, and i love her — kurt cobain, blvd. nights — team sleep, new magic wand — tyler, the creator [highly recommend listening so you can get what kind of character Jungkook is]
jungkook’s moodboard | y/n’s moodboard
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There was a quickening pace to his heart. Sweat dripped down his forehead that he wiped away with his forearm as he looked at his friend through the mirrored wall. Just behind them he had a clear view of some woman looking at them. His friend noticed her too, “She’s had her eye on you for a while now.”
Jungkook didn’t say anything as he switched with Namjoon and laid down. Namjoon made sure to spot him as he began to bench press, muscles bulging with each set he did.
“I’m serious, man, and she’s hot,” Namjoon looked behind him to catch the girl running on the treadmill as her gaze shifted shyly at being caught. He was getting a little pissed that his friend does not care that he’s being eye fucked at the gym.
This was just like Jungkook too, he never showed any sign of interest in anything. He always had a bored expression on his face like he was waiting for something worth his while to happen. Namjoon’s learned to get over it because if Jungkook didn’t like hanging out with him then they wouldn’t be friends. Jungkook isn’t the type to waste his breath reassuring things like that and he definitely does not waste his time thinking of someone.
If Namjoon got half as many women checking him out as Jungkook does, he would find a girlfriend in no time—but no, he has to stand to aside and watch his friend pay absolutely no attention to any woman who expressed even the slightest hint of interest in him. Maybe he has to applaud Jungkook for this, he seems to have standards and sticks to them because in their years long friendship he’s only met one of his girlfriend’s before. He was extremely private about his sex life too so they never shared any locker room talk and Namjoon has just learned that’s how he is.
“Should we do one more?” Jungkook asked as he placed the dumbbell back into its holders and sat up panting. He looked behind him just slightly and caught sight of the bleached blond on the treadmill. She hasn’t taken his eyes off since she got here and it’s really starting to piss him off.
“Sure,” Namjoon said, switching Jungkook, “I don’t get how you seem to just ignore every woman who looks at you.”
Jungkook looked down at him as Namjoon caught a good grip on the dumbbell, “I wouldn’t disrespect the person I’m seeing by entertaining someone else.”
Namjoon nearly dropped the dumbbell on himself as he jumped up to a sitting position and looked at his friend dumbfounded, “You’re seeing someone?”
That made the corners of Jungkook’s lips turn upward and he tried to bite back a smile, his dimples still showed. Namjoon was no longer sitting and it seemed like the end of their workout so he began to clean the equipment. Jungkook cleared his throat, “Sort of.”
Wordlessly, they began to leave toward the locker room and Jungkook walked right past the blond without sparing her a single glance. He smiled, “Y/n.”
“Huh?” Namjoon asked, “Is that who you’re sort of seeing?”
“Mhm,” Jungkook nodded with a smile that had Namjoon surprised. He very rarely sees this much emotion from Jungkook and compared to his usual cool exterior, this was a bit unsettling. The two went straight for their lockers as they took their gym bags out and got ready to leave. Namjoon cleared his throat, “Do you have a picture? I need a visual of who this person is.”
It was just so sudden after he had these thoughts of how Jungkook showed absolutely no interest in anyone and kept his sex life extremely private. Namjoon always thought it was just because he was a womanizer and didn’t feel like bragging about all the women he’s seeing. It is just surprising that all of a sudden Jungkook would show so much emotion bringing someone up.
Jungkook didn’t give him an answer aside from fishing his phone out of his pocket and immediately showing him his lock screen. Namjoon looked at the picture clearly.
“Wow,” Namjoon said with, “Now I see why you don’t bat an eye at anyone else.”
It was a good candid photo of you, like you didn’t even know it was being taken of you. You were sitting outside having dinner and it was a perfect snapshot of your smile. You were looking at something off camera but Namjoon did have to admit that you were very attractive.
He missed the way Jungkook’s eyes darkened the longer Namjoon looked at your picture and decided to lock his phone and put it away, “Ready?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon said as he grabbed his car keys while Jungkook grabbed his and his helmet, “So why haven’t I met this Y/n, yet?”
Jungkook wasn’t smiling anymore but Namjoon couldn’t see it as he walked behind him, “You know I like things kept private.”
“I mean yeah but… I don’t know, you’ve never brought her up before. When did you start seeing her?” Namjoon asked just trying to have a casual conversation with Jungkook before they split up.
“I said sort of.”
“What?”
“Earlier you asked me if I was seeing Y/n and I said sort of,” Jungkook said with a tightened smile, “No need to bring anyone around yet.”
Namjoon didn’t have a chance to say much after that, Jungkook got on his motorcycle and left with a little wave. This felt like news of the century, Jungkook very rarely smiles the way he smiled when he first brought you up.
Who were you exactly?
You took a deep breath as you unlocked your front door and walked into a pitch black apartment. The light flickered on behind you and a small fluff curled around legs the second you were inside.
“Armani!” Your friend said with a soft gasp as he bent down to pick up the gray Siberian feline. Your cat let Taehyung pick him up and walk him around your living room as you put your things away.
“Looks like your neighbor’s home,” Taehyung pointed out as he stood near the window of your apartment. Armani hopped out of his arms and onto his scratching post where he usually lounged in for naps. “You think he watches you sleep?”
“Shut up,” you told him with a roll of your eyes, “Do you want a drink?”
“Soju?” Taehyung asked with a cheeky grin before looking back to the window, “And you know I’m joking… I’m just saying though, he always has his curtains drawn and sometimes I catch him looking over here.”
“All that’s telling me is that I need to stop inviting you over,” you said as you grabbed a bottle of Soju and a bowl of chips. You couldn’t help but look out your window.
Your neighbor was an attractive man. He had a sleeve of tattoos and a broad chest, a six pack and… nipple piercings. It’s not you’re a creep or anything but he likes to lounge around his living room and bedroom without a shirt on and his curtains open. Sometimes he would step out of the shower with only a tattoo around his small waist as he looked for clothes in his bedroom and you would have to immediately close your curtains so you weren’t a peeping Tom.
He moved in a few weeks ago and since then you’ve found yourself battling over the fact that you’ll never attract a man as gorgeous as him no matter what Taehyung says. Since the beginning Taehyung has believed that your neighbor seems to have a liking toward you.
Your best friend is over at your place more often than not and he’s noticed some things. For instance, the day he moved in Taehyung was over and like the nosy neighbor you were, the two of you stared out the window and watched him unload boxes. Taehyung swears he saw a look in your neighbor’s eyes that immediately disappeared when he saw he was there too.
Then, there was that time when you were having dinner with your friends. Taehyung pointed out seeing your neighbor and how close he was sitting outside and you just brushed it off. He lives in your neighborhood now, that means he mostly frequented the same restaurants as you. He also notes every time your neighbor seems to glance out the window toward your place but you don’t think anything of it. These apartments have poor lighting and the only way you get natural light is by having the windows open. In truth, Taehyung has watched way too many true crime documentaries and has gotten a bit paranoid.
“Whatever,” Taehyung sighed, “I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt you to give him a little show and see if you’ll get laid.”
::.
okok im in the mood for a somewhat yandere Jk bc im still obsessed with his calvin klein shoot. idk this probs isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but it’s mine so 🤭
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miraclewoozi · 1 year
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DON'T SWEAT IT. - l.jh
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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?”
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pinkacademiaprincess · 8 months
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“she’s like a real life elle woods…”
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fictional study icons guide, part 2: elle woods
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relentlessly chase your goals
similar to rory, elle set her sights on harvard law and let nothing get in her way. people doubted her, she had no background in law, and nevertheless she made it happen. having a goal and wanting something is one thing, but you have to make it happen. elle spoke with an academic counselor, created a plan for herself, and meticulously checked off all the requirements. you can’t just sit around and hope you get what you want! determine the end goal, outline all the steps that you need to take to get there, and get to it.
have faith in yourself
throughout the process of getting into and attending harvard law, elle dealt with so many people who doubted her, were mean, and underestimated her. if she listened to all those people, she never would have applied or stayed in law school. no one knows you like you know yourself, so do not let strangers’ negative opinions of you rule your life. people assumed elle was unintelligent and not fit for law school, but she knew that she could succeed and she did. no one decides what you can or can’t do but you. tune out any criticism that isn’t constructive, focus on your strengths, and seek your goals.
let your personality shine
elle always had a strong sense of self. even when she started going to law school, in a totally new environment from her previous college, she stayed true to her personality. she continued dressing in pink outfits, getting her hair & nails done, and got school supplies to match her girly aesthetic. when you go to class, let your personality show through your outfits, accessories, school supplies - find little ways to bring yourself happiness through self- expression. especially when school and classes might seem to rule your life, these small personal touches will help keep you positive.
study with others
elle used the tactic of studying with others to help stay focused & accountable. when she was studying for the lsat, she had one of her sorority sisters keep her on track & practice with her. for some, it can be helpful to “body double,” or to have someone else with you while you study/ work to keep you on task. it might also help to have a study buddy to quiz you and work through problems together. at harvard she also tries to join a study group, which shows she generally thrives when studying/ working in a group setting. if this is something that works for you, find a classmate or group of classmates willing to meet up & body double or study together!
stay active
nowadays, a lot of schooling requires you to either sit at a laptop or hunch over notes for countless hours of your day. being seated for so long with questionable posture is not good for you, humans are meant to be active! elle is shown walking on a treadmill while she studies, and combining physical activity with schoolwork can be really effective for some. engaging your body while engaging your mind might help you focus better. otherwise, try to get some daily movement to give your body a break from being stiff & seated. find physical activity that you enjoy - going for walks outdoors, taking a sports class, hitting the gym, doing a youtube workout video, playing music & dancing like a maniac - move your body and have fun with it! in the words of elle, “exercise gives you endorphins, endorphins make you happy.”
pet therapy!
elle woods is always accompanied by her beloved chihuahua bruiser. spending time with animals is a great way to boost your mood & relieve stress. if you have a pet, spending time with them, petting them, having them in your lap or nearby are all ways you can take advantage of their presence to feel happier & more relaxed.
that’s all! elle is such an inspiration to me tbh. she really embodies that being true to yourself & being kind to others are the keys to success. good luck in your studies! 🩷
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yeeterthek33per · 7 months
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In Your Head (And Out Of Your Heart) (Steph Catley x Caitlin Foord x Reader)
A/n requested
Also, I promise I've got others lined up. There was just a wave of Stephy and Cait lined up in my requests, and I'm just doing first come, first served rn 😅
Summary: Moments for the trio, complications, expectations, and satisfactory temptations. or all the times everybody but the three of you realise you love them a little more than friends do.
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Sleek muscular lines run up the outside of her calves, defining themselves with every strain of the muscular legs belonging to the sweet and bubbly Australian.
Apparently, facing the treadmills away from the wall so that one could see the whole gym when doing their runs was what the interior designers wanted.
It also meant anyone doing hip thrusts was in your direct line of sight, facing off to the side.
The way her shorts ride up slightly, showing off toned thighs, was another problem.
You shake your head a little.
Why were you ogling... again..
Steph's your best friend. You don't want to make it awkward. Sure, all friends called each other hot and stuff, but they definitely don't check each other out in attempted subtlety.
The soft grunts as she lifts up the bar permeate through the music in your left ear leaving your cheeks to darken significantly.
Of course, in the midst of that, you make the mistake of taking a small sip from your water bottle whilst mid run.
Steph let's the weight settle back onto the ground away from her, but in the process of stretching out again, her shirt lifts slightly, revealing a sliver of the soft, newly tanned skin you'd been imagining feeling under your fingertips for months on end.
Water gets caught halfway down your throat as your breath hitches and with that a coughing fit that makes you end up in a piled heap on the ground.
A concerned hand patting your back, helping you regain your breathing, grabs your attention.
It's a familiar hand that you immediately recognise as belonging to the other call for your affection.
If your cheeks weren't already bright red from exertion and nearly dying, they would've darkened further at your treadmill buddy having been the one to spot you on the ground.
Though given the amount of racket you've just made, drawing attention from the whole squad and their trainers, Caitlin isn't the only one now watching you with a concerned look.
"You alright, Dahl?"
You nod, accepting the hand up from the brunette, brushing yourself off quickly.
"Fine, just water went down the wrong hole." You joke mildly.
A smile tugging at the corner of Caitlin's lips makes your stomach warm, and you have to fight every urge to run away in embarrassment as it quickly morphs into a smirk.
"Maybe don't drink water mid stride next time, cutie."
With an affectionate roll of your eyes, you quickly return to the treadmill once again, shooting the onlooking blue eyed striker a reassuring smile as she watches you return to position with a careful gaze, though doing so makes your heart beat a little faster in your chest.
With that, you resort to getting lost in thought instead of so blatantly staring.
You have to get your feelings under control and fast.
--------------------------
"Do you think she notices?"
Steph's head perks up from it's position resting on her propped up hand.
"What?"
Beth gestures to your shaking form, body rattling with laughter as you talk with your teammates during breakfast.
"Y/n."
"Does she notice what?"
Steph's confused look is met with a cynical one from the blonde.
"Does she notice it when you both give her 'fuck me' eyes?"
Caitlin just about spits out her food across from them, coughing to avoid choking, and then swallowing.
"What the fuck are you on about?"
Beth scoffs.
"Please, you both know exactly what I'm talking about. Steph, you were staring at the girl for exactly one minute and thirty two seconds before I had to call your attention away just then and Caitlin, don't act like you weren't ogling the poor girl while she was relying on you as her spotter when she was doing her squat sets yesterday."
Steph's face goes mildly pink as she shakes her head.
"Yeah, no. There's no 'fuck me' eyes. At all. I'm happily engaged to Dean. Beffy, I have no idea what you're seeing here."
"Yeah, Beth, this is weird, even for you. I'm happy as I am with Lia."
"You guys... seriously?"
They both nod, Steph quickly changing the subject with a final glare at Beth so she doesn't protest for the rest of the meal.
They both finish up their food swiftly, taking off separately.
Beth groans, sliding her hand down her face. This was gonna be harder than she thought. There was no way she'd be able to get one of you to admit your feelings, let alone all three of you, by herself. She needed help.
And she knew just who to ask.
--------------------------
"No."
"But I haven't even-"
The captain holds up her hand, silencing the englishwoman.
"I'm not getting involved with whatever you've got planned."
"But Kimmy!"
The striker whines, latching onto the older woman hoping she'll give in to the puppy dog eyes.
"Beth-"
"I need help getting Y/n, Cait and Stephy to admit they're in love with each other."
That makes Kim's brows raise.
"Hell no. I'm not getting involved in other people's love lives. That's a definite fucking no. Also what makes you so confident in this information anyways?"
"You mean aside from Y/n nearly breaking something tripping on the treadmill yesterday after watching Stephy do her hip thrusts? Or Caitlin being the first one by her side?"
Assuming her power pose, Kim gives her a sceptical look.
"You mean when she was drinking water and choked? Or when Caitlin, the closest person to her, checked on her?"
Beth groans.
"No! It's not just that. It's the constant staring at each other. You should have seen the eyes Y/n was giving Cait in the locker room the other day. Not to mention the constant teasing from Cait as well. Steph is a like magnet when it comes to those two. The serious heart eyes she had this morning during breakfast were so ridiculously telling. I-"
Kim sighs and puts her hand again, pointing a finger at the striker.
"No, Beth, that's enough of that, honestly, I will not be getting involved in that, and you certainly shouldn't either. If I see you interfering at all."
It's a silent threat, but Beth doesn't need to hear it. Unfortunately, much like a team mother would, Kim would very much ground her. And would very much enforce it, too.
Okay, so maybe Kim wasn't her best option. She'd try Viv, but there's almost 100% chance she'd say no. Steph would normally be her next best option but obviously that's out of the question.
So she resigns to sighing and nodding, leaving the Arsenal captain alone to do her stretches.
Maybe Jen?
--------------------------
"No, absolutely not."
"But Jen, it's imperative we fix this issue, otherwise, all we'll be stuck with is longing looks for the rest of their lives."
"Beth, there's no issue to fix. Steph is getting married, and Caitlin is in a relationship. You're forgetting Lia is our friend too."
Beth paused for a moment. Jen's right. She hadn't even thought of the repercussions this would have on Lia. She was one of her oldest friends, too. God, she was an ass.
But still, she'd be an ever bigger ass if she couldn't help her friends out a little, right?
"Beffy, I know what you're thinking. But the answer is no. It's not worth it. It'll just create more drama than it's worth, I won't entertain the idea. It's gonna hurt someone, and what, then?"
"I know, I know. But you've gotta admit, there's something there, though, isn't there?"
Jen sighs softly.
"If even there might be an astronomical possibility that they're all magically single and available to mingle, and also completely fine with this. There's an off chance that they might work, given they're all so obviously at least girl crushing a little. But even then, it would still hurt someone."
Her shoulder's deflate, and Jen wraps her arm around her.
"Come on, Beth, just let it go. If it's meant to be, they'll work themselves out. Leave it alone. Now, come on, help me with this cleaning."
--------------------------
Steph's eyes trail across the pitch, taking but a few mere milliseconds to analyse your next run before sending a cross your way.
The perfectly timed lead allows for a perfectly timed header and a perfectly timed goal, equalising in just the second last minute of reg time.
The crowd erupts, and you bounce over to the defender, arms wrapping tightly around the woman in elation.
"Let's go, babygirl!"
Her hands settle underneath your legs, holding tightly so as to not drop you while your hands hold her face, forehead pressing to hers as you yell victoriously.
The final was Arsenal's for the taking now, thanks to your brilliant header.
The moment only serves to heighten your energy, and you drop from her grip only to jump into the waiting arms of your favourite striker.
"That's my girl!"
Your grin widens, and you shake her shoulders in excitement. Normally, you wouldn't brush aside that sort of comment, but it's in the middle of a game, so it's swept away to never be heard from again.
Returning to positions, Man United get the game underway once more, now downtrodden that they have to get another goal too.
Your heart races when you're given but another opportunity in the second stoppage minute. Or really, it's not much of an opportunity, more like a hail mary.
The ball has left your boot in an attempt at a last-minute miracle to give Arsenal the win.
From nearly fifty yards out, the ball sails far over the defensive line, passing a caught off guard Earps, who you'd spotted off her line just moments ago.
When it ricochets off the woodwork and into the net, you can hardly believe it, dropping to your knees in disbelief that it actually worked.
The noise from the crowd is almost unbearable.
Bodies pile onto yours, forcing you onto the pitch. Screaming and cheers from your teammates leave you matching their excitement and disbelief in your limited wiggles underneath the pile of Arsenal players.
The pile eventually pulls off you, and with several hugs and hair ruffles, you immediately feel the tightest hug between your two favourite people. You throw an arm up at the crowd from between Steph and Caitlin, both of them singing your praises into your ear as loud as they can.
The crowd cheers louder at your gesture, the feelings wash over you finally.
Relief. Happiness. Mild disbelief still.
"You fucking beautiful woman!"
"That's our fucking girl right here, baby!"
You grin up at the two women, squeezing both of them tightly and running back to position with one final wave to the crowd.
Two pairs of eyes watching the interaction exchange looks.
The moment play is restarted, the whistle blows for full time, leaving you and your teammates screaming in celebration.
Steph is the first one to you, jumping into your arms, wrapping tightly around you, and legs wrapping around your waist as you quickly grab them to avoid dropping her.
Your heart beats hard and fast, not sure whether it's the win or Steph's hands grabbing your face and kissing your forehead that does it.
A part of you wants to assume it's the win.
A part of you knows it's both.
That doesn't stop you from relishing in the moment, though, thoroughly enjoying her hands on you, which are now squishing your cheeks adorably.
The moment is gone the moment she leaves your arms, but it doesn't last long.
Caitlin is quick to pile on you next, fingers threading through your hair. While unintentional, it makes you buzz just that little bit more.
When her grin makes your whole body warm, you realise at that moment just how screwed you are.
And if anyone were to ask about your blush at them both kissing your cheeks in a pose for a photo with the trophy, well, you'd just deny it to the ends of the Earth.
--------------------------
Steph doesn't think about the little things too often. Moments here and there that aren't even so much as waved off, they're that insignificant.
Small touches. Friendly hugs. Little gifts. Every little detail that she normally ignores.
She doesn't think about all the times she's hugged you just that little bit tighter than she does with Beth or Lia.
She doesn't think about the bag of her favourite lollies being left in her cubby after practice that was most definitely planted by you.
She doesn't think about the way her eyes drift to you naturally, watching your form move across the pitch gracefully.
She doesn't think about the way her mood always brightens when she sees you, even if you'd already seen each other five times that day.
She doesn't think about the kiss she leaves on your forehead or cheek when you say hello or goodbye.
Except she does.
At least now that Beth's pointed it out to her.
Truth is, as much as she denied it that day at breakfast, her eyes were locked on you in every spare moment.
Realising just how much you actually invaded her thoughts and senses, well...
It's a startling revelation.
It scares the crap out of her.
She loves Dean and would do anything for the man she's planning to marry. He's a sweetheart. He keeps her on her toes. He takes care of her better than all of her previous partners ever could.
It's a startling revelation when she realises how much time she spends with you and Caitlin over him.
Caitlin.
That one comes out of left field. It definitely worries her, though, her best friend entering her trail of thought, too. That one catches her a little more off guard than she likes.
So, she leaves that one for another time, shoving it back into what was supposed to be a deadbolt box of intrusive thoughts in her head.
She hates how much you invade her head.
When she thinks back on what started it, she can't pinpoint it. Just that you'd always been the sweetest friend to her. Friend. She hates that her stomach turns at the term.
It'd always been you to comfort her in moments of doubt. It was always you she wanted beside her when victory came the team's way.
Steph feels helpless when she realises how much she actually cares for you.
She feels helpless when she realises how screwed she truly is.
"Babe, dinner's ready!"
Dean's voice brings her out of her head, echoing from the kitchen of their shared flat in London.
As she makes her way over to the table, the plate already set out for her, a small kiss pressed into the bearded cheek of her fiance, her mind wanders back again.
What the hell is she gonna do?
--------------------------
Beth doesn't leave it alone in the end. She's determined to at least get something out of you if she can't get something out of Steph or Caitlin.
Though with Kim now watching her like a hawk during training, she has to be subtle about it, so getting you alone during a night out without Kim or Jen is a little too difficult, especially since you're glued to Caitlin and Steph's sides constantly.
Viv being there is out of the question, so she had to come up with an excuse to get you out with her, on your own.
"N/n pleeeease, I need you to come with me, shopping."
You groan into the phone in annoyance at the blonde. You'd just wanted to enjoy your day off without the stress of having to socialise like an adult.
"Why can't you go on your own? Or with literally anyone else but me? Steph or Viv, or literally any one of the 23 other women in our squad?"
"Because you've got the day off, Steph is busy, Viv is out of the question because I'm shopping for a gift for her, and I want it to be a surprise and you're the only other one that knows her almost as good as I do."
You can hear the pout from your side of the line, and when you sigh softly into the receiver, Beth knows she's won.
"Fine, but I really wanna be back home as soon as possible. I have some serious me time planned, and I wanna get back to that as soon as possible."
"Gross Y/n, I know you're single and all but-:
"Shut the fuck up and get over here."
-
It doesn't take her long to come kidnap you and drag you around to nearly every store in the shopping centre, and it's a miracle you're only stopped once for pictures.
"Beth, why are we here? Why do you need my opinion on this? Why am I even here?"
Apparently, her final chosen store was a lingerie store. It also means she's trying to get you to purchase something as well. Why? You don't know.
"Because you're the next best judge for me. Also, you need to get out. You've been way too busy lately and need to do some shopping for you and for you only."
"For god sakes, I'm literally you're only single friend, I'd be the worst judge for this."
Punctuating your sentence with dropping into your seat once again with a tired groan.
"Also, I know I've been way too busy, that's why I was at home in the first place. Now, can we please hurry up and go, Beffy?"
You whine, now getting fidgety under the pile of bags you've been made to carry around for her.
Tossing another pair back over the curtain to you, telling you to toss her the next pair, she chuckles at your exasperation.
She's been stalling as long as she can to try and get the opportunity to talk to you but hasn't found the right words this whole time. She knows if she doesn't ask soon, she'll up losing her only chance.
"Just give me a couple more minutes to try these on, and I'll take you to go get some nando's?"
Huffing softly, knowing she's got you with the offer of food, you sit back down again, waiting for her to finish browsing.
"Fine, but hurry up or you'll be dealing with hangry Y/n, too."
"Got it, Sweetpea. Now, pick out a set, too."
Your loud groan of annoyance makes her laugh.
-
It's only in the car on the way home that she finally manages to ask.
"So, Y/n, I've been noticing some things over the past couple months."
Swallowing the mouthful of chicken, you look over at her suspiciously.
"And what would that be?"
"You've been giving Stephy and Cait eyes."
Turning your head, you roll your eyes at the same time, though there's a sting in your eyes as you fight back the oncoming rush of emotion.
"Beth, you're gonna have to be specific. I kinda have to look at them to converse with them. Ya know, best friends and all."
Giving emphasis to the word friends, you're hoping she'll let what you know she's about to say go. Of course, this is Beth, and of course, that's not happening.
"N/n, that's not what I meant, and you know it."
It's said a little softer this time, with the hopes you don't scare away entirely.
"It's not happening, Beffy. There's nothing there, and nothing will ever be there."
Her heart breaks for you at the crack in your voice and she can see tears peaking out of the corners of your eyes.
She pulls over in an isolated carpark, so she can fully look at you.
"Doesn't mean it hurts any less."
"If it means I don't lose them, then I don't care how much it may or may not hurt. I can't lose them."
You've fully curled up in her passenger seat now, legs pressed to your chest as you pick at the cuticles on your fingers.
"I can't do it. I can't let them see it."
She sighs, resigning to letting you work this out for now. She knows you're stubborn. She knows you won't let her intervene under any circumstance.
"I'm serious, Beffy. You can't tell them, they can't know about this. I won't lose them."
"I won't tell them. If that's what you want, I won't tell them. They still deserve to know, though. It's not fair on you or them to keep this bottled up. It'll kill you in the end if you don't tell someone."
"So be it... I'll figure something out. Maybe take some time away. The only way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?"
It's said in half joking tone, but Beth knows otherwise. She's seen how you coped with your previous relationship ending. You nearly killed your reputation entirely with the constant one night stands.
How you cope is up to you, and she still respects you as a person, but she also wants you to be happy, both with yourself and your life.
She never judged you. She never seriously complained at having to come get you every other night for three weeks straight every time you called her for a lift home.
She did get sick of it though, and she finally managed to get you to leave that behind fairly swiftly after your position on the team was threatened by the incessant news articles with leaked images of you with a new girl on your arm in every single one.
The others hadn't entirely seen that side of you, you pushing them away to avoid scaring them away too.
Beth was the only one who didn't take your attempts at pushing her away.
"Just, take it easy, alright? Don't let it risk your career as well. I'm not letting that happen again. You're my family, sweet girl."
She punctuates the sentence by pulling you to hug her over the console, and you let her, letting the tears fall finally, holding your best friend tightly.
"It's gonna be okay, Y/n. It might not feel like it, but you'll make it out okay eventually."
Would you?
--------------------------
Caitlin, to her credit, doesn't acknowledge what Beth had said until much later. It takes a whole two months until she even realises her heart had been elsewhere.
Until her current relationship with Lia becomes a past one.
When she realises she should feel more devastated than she does.
When she realises that she feels way more comfortable about the breakup than she should.
Her thoughts don't fully drift to you until she feels her heart race when you hug her after she tells you about the breakup.
It's not that she never thought about you, really. It's more that she never realised she was thinking about you a lot more than was acceptable.
The gifts she'd get you, whether it be fresh coffee in the morning or even flowers after your previous breakup just a year ago.
The small cheeks kisses she'd get from you in return that make her cheeks flush a little.
She begins to wonder in that moment.
Had you noticed the way her heart sped up a little when you hugged her, ear pressed to her chest as you both embraced?
Had you noticed the pink hue her face took on when you smiled that gorgeous smile that only appears when you're genuinely happy?
Had Lia noticed any of this?
It makes her feel both guilty but also flustered at the thought of being so dimwittingly obvious.
In the final conversation between her and her ex, Lia had cited her lack of presence in the relationship.
"You're just not in it anymore, Caitlin. I can't be with you when you aren't here, with me."
She does feel guilty for it. Knows how crap Lia must have felt not having her girlfriend there for her, but she knows it's for the best.
What she does notice is your sudden absence. She sees a lot less of you than she'd like. You disappear from rooms that she's in. If you're forced to be in the room, you're seated far from her and Steph.
Training is much the same, only interacting to keep it professional. It makes her heart ache more than anything. Had she done something? Was she too telling?
Her stomach drops at the thought.
What if you knew? What if she was too obvious?
What if-
"Hey, you alright Cait?"
Steph's hand on her shoulder is comforting, and it sends soft tingles through her skin beneath the fabric of the training jersey.
She has to avoid jerking away from the feeling.
"Fine. Do you..."
She pauses, trying to work out if she wants to even bring Steph into this.
"Is there something up with Y/n?"
Steph hesitates at that, an unsure look on her face.
"Have you noticed it too? She's been avoiding us a bit. It's like that time a year ago. When she..."
Caitlin nods, understanding saturated on her face now.
"Maybe something's happened?"
"It's weird, though. It feels like it's just us she's avoiding."
Steph nibbles at her lower lip nervously, looking around the pitch. She notices, though, that they're not the only ones keeping a close eye on you. Beth is looking over to you every so often, concern laced in her gaze and the way her eyes follow your movements.
It makes sense, though. You'd always been closest with the blonde striker. You'd clicked the moment you'd joined Arsenal four years ago, right before the other two aussies had.
"It's probably just something going on. She'll work it out. She's got Beth looking after her, it seems."
The striker nods and moves to continue the drills, though the worry doesn't ebb at all.
In fact, it only increases the closer to the world cup they get. What were you going to do once the World Cup came around? Maybe they would have to keep an eye on you themselves.
--------------------------
Steph, it turns out, is right. It is just them you're avoiding.
It's the why that has them worried.
Their best friend, their favourite person, was now actively avoiding their presence.
You seemed fine chatting away to everyone else in camp. In fact, they'd found you in cuddle piles with some of the youngins more often than not. Something you'd do with Steph and Caitlin without hesitation normally.
She finds herself missing you more often than not, her heart wrenching itself at the thought of them losing you now.
She thinks back on what she'd realised just a month previously.
It becomes clear that she just has to ignore it if she wants things to go back to normal.
Plus, it has to go away. It's already had her second guessing her own relationship. And Dean's starting to notice her hesitation, too. It has to stop. If not for her sake, then for his and yours as well.
It's just a silly little crush. She has Dean, and she has Caitlin and you as friends. Well, only if she can work out why you're avoiding them.
Meanwhile, you're doing everything you can to push down the pain of not having properly spoken to Caitlin and Steph.
It hurts like all hell to not be near them but you need the time to settle before the opening game, which is creeping ever closer with every hour you spend working out what the fuck you're gonna do.
You can't avoid them forever. You aren't sleeping properly anymore and it's affecting your performance.
Beth has been messaging you constantly, checking up on you, but she hasn't been able to see you at all, given she's still in London doing her rehab. Though she does promise to fly over for a few days to come see you and the girls when she can, knowing the other England girls would want to see her as well.
Unfortunately, she knows you a little too well as well, and she calls out the tiredness in your voice one day, it's 9am and you've not trained for the day, so she knows you have no excuse to be tired yet.
You brush her off, but the mild scolding you get in return is enough to have you spilling the beans.
"Just not sleeping too well is all. I'm fine, Beffy. I'm just adjusting to the environment again. It's been a while since we've been in camp."
"You and I both know that's not the reason. How are coping over there? And be honest with me. I have my sources."
Rolling your eyes slightly, you huff down the phone.
"Your sources need to mind their own business. And I'm fine, I'm serious. I'm taking my time and everything, just like you said."
"I didn't mean to explicitly ignore them altogether either. Steph's worried about you. She's already messaged me asking if you're alright and that you'd been acting weird even before international break started."
"Shit."
"Caitlin, too. Said you've been distant but doesn't wanna scare you away. Y/n, please, for the sake of your sanity and theirs. Just talk to them."
"Beth...."
"I'm serious lovey, you need to talk to them, even if you don't outright say, 'I'm in love with you both', just tell them you're dealing with feelings at the moment. They're missing their best friend, not just you missing them here."
There's a soft knock on your door that grabs your attention.
"Look, I'll think about it-"
"No. Talk to them. I'm serious. I can't play buffer when I'm not there. You need to talk to them. Not me."
"Alright, I'll do it at some point. I have to go, someone's at the door."
"Y/n-"
"Love you, bye."
You hang up with a soft growl of frustration, the knocks on the door getting more persistent now.
"For the love of- I'm coming, calm down!"
Swinging open the door, you're met with a sheepish looking Steph and Caitlin.
Not who you're expecting. But at the same time...
"What's up?"
You keep it calm, not wanting to totally panic now that the exact people you were avoiding are at your door.
"Can we talk?"
Shuffling your feet slightly, you step aside, gesturing for them to come in.
They stand there awkwardly for a minute before you walk up to them, poking Steph in the shoulder lightly with a small smile.
"Stop being weird, y'all can sit down ya know."
A slight smile tugs at her lips and they both chuckle softly, conceding to sit on the edge of the single bed while you pull up the chair, resting one foot on the set, knee pressed up to your chest.
"So what's up?"
They exchange a look for a moment.
"We were hoping you'd tell us that."
Feigning ignorance, you tilt your head slightly.
"About...?"
Steph sees right through you though, a raised brow in your direction.
"You know what about. You haven't spoken a word to us since before we even left london. What's going on? Is something happening?"
You scratch at the back of your neck slightly, head ducking to avoid eye contact that you know will probably mess you up in trying to not confess your undying love.
"Just a small thing... it's not really major. I just figured I had to deal with it on my own for a bit."
"And that includes completely avoiding us and only us?"
Caitlin's words have a bit of bite now, frustration leaking through.
Swallowing softly, you look up at them.
"It's not- You guys know me better than the others, figured if I avoided you both, it would be easier to avoid having a conversation about it."
Steph moves from her spot towards you, kneeling to take your hands, which are now propping up your head on both knees.
"Talk to us Sweetheart, what's going on in that head of yours?"
Feeling tears well up in your eyes, you tilt your head back slightly, not wanting them to streak down your face in front of them.
It hurts so bad. You want to tell them, but you can't risk it.
What you don't see but hear is Caitlin moving to crouch by your side, hand resting on your leg, concerned look making it's way onto her features.
"Talk to us darlin', we just want our friend back."
There it is, the word you hate so much. It makes your stomach drop, and the tears flow freely down your cheeks. Looking down at them, you shake your head.
"I can't tell you that."
A shaky breath wracks your chest and you turn your head away, avoiding the worried blue and brown eyes of the women in front of you.
A hand settles on your chin, bringing you back to look at them.
"Why not? You know you can tell us anything. Please, we just want to make you're alright."
The feeling of their hands on you is overwhelming. Between your heart and your head, everything is racing and feels so heavy.
Standing abruptly, you step back away from them both, moving away from their outstretched hands when they reach for you.
"I just can't."
Cutting Caitlin off before she can say anything else, you move over to the door, opening it.
"Just please leave. I can work it out on my own. I can't tell you just yet, alright? I love you both, but I need to get my head straight before I can talk about it. I'll be fine, just... please...."
Sighing softly, Steph moves towards the door, but not before cupping your cheek softly and kissing your forehead.
"We're here for you. Whenever you feel like talking. Don't forget that."
You nod softly, and she steps out the door.
Caitlin does the same, hand lingering a little longer on your shoulder, though, squeezing softly.
There's something in her eyes you don't quite recognise, but you don't question it as she she leaves, muttering a soft goodbye to you.
Shutting the door behind them, your form slides down the wooden panel, sitting knees to your chest as you rest your head on your knees, listening as their footsteps echo further down the hallway in synchronized steps.
You are such a coward.
Why didn't you just tell them?
Everything would be so much easier.
It would hurt too much to lose them, though.
They'd hate you forever.
You'd ruin everything.
The thoughts running through your head are loud, and they don't leave room for much else, so you do the only you know to try and calm yourself.
You pull out your phone, dialling Beth's number and wait with bated breath.
The moment she picks up, its like it all just blurts out at once.
"Hello?" It's said in a tired voice.
"I couldn't do it!" Choked sobs from your end immediately make the blonde shoot up from her spot in bed, her girlfriends arm suddenly moved from its position around her waist.
"What? Y/n, talk to me."
"I tried to tell them, and I just broke down and told them to leave! They're gonna hate me!"
There's a concerned hand on her arm from a half asleep Viv, and she gives her an apologetic look, mouthing your name to her.
"Oh sweet girl, they could never hate you. God they lovd you way too much to hate you."
"That's the problem. They'll never love me like that. Not the way I do. They'll hate me if I tell them. It's basically a lose-lose situation either way."
It's loud enough that the dutchie hears it from her position behind the englishwoman, and her brows furrow. When had this occurred?
"Babe, what is she talking about?"
"Uhhhh.. gimme a minute." She turns back to the phone.
"Alright, it's okay, you couldn't tell them. I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? You're gonna send yourself into a serious hyperventilation if you don't breathe for me, alright?"
You take a moment to let your chest muscles relax, trying to keep them from constricting in your chest too much.
It doesn't quite work, though, and everything just comes crashing down around you, your sobs just becoming harder.
"I c-cant. It hurts!"
Shit.
"That's okay, I want you to do something for me, okay? Put a hand to your chest for me."
Doing so, you set down the phone, putting it on speaker, knowing the drill by now, having done this many times before.
"Five things you can see?"
Squinting up into the now dark room you scan the place, trying to focus on the various items in the darkness.
"Uh, c-curtains, a chair.... my bed, a pile of clothing... myself in the standing mirror."
"Good, that's it. Four things you can hear."
"You, Viv, my pulse in my ears, the cleaner down the hallway."
"Good, three things you can feel."
Swallowing lightly, you rest your head against the cool wood of the door, allowing it to ground you a little better.
"Cold, the carpet is cold. The wood of the door. Sweaty, and snotty. I feel gross."
Ignoring you joking softly, she continues.
"Two things you can smell, sweets."
Taking one more shaky breath, your pulsd starts to lessen off from its incessant beating in your eardrums.
"Uh, carpet cleaner and Steph's perfume."
"That's it, one more. One thing you can taste."
"The peanut butter cup I ate earlier."
"There you go, take a few more breaths for me."
"Someone want to explain whats going on now?"
Viv's voice sounds from your phones speaker, and you sigh softly. Now another person probably knows.
You hear some muttering over the line followed by a small hum.
"Ah, so you're finally admitting it then?"
Huh?
"Wha-"
"It was kind of obvious, really. You really weren't subtle about it."
Of course, she's right. Who were you kidding? It was so blatanly obvious. It was painful to anyone observing it. You couldn't imagine what the other two might have seen.
"I can tell what you're thinking, sweetheart. As obvious as it is to the rest of us, those two knuckleheads have no clue. Thats on them for not noticing you're struggling."
"That's the problem. They know something up. They came to my room to work out why I was avoiding them, Beffy. They're gonna work it out sooner or later, and I don't think I wanna be stuck around them if they do. I don't want to think about having to witness that. The disgust on their faces because they're own best friend is in love with both of them."
On the other side of the line, Beth and Viv exchange a look, Beth sighs softly, her partners fingers carding through her hair, helping relieve the stress headache she can already feel coming on.
"Love, you need to tell them. I know you're struggling. They could never hate you or be disgusted by you. They love you. And they just need to realise it."
"You and I both know that's not true, though."
The frustration bubbling up in Beth's chest has it spilling from her lips before she can really stop herself.
"It is. You're just too blind to see it. Those girls are obsessed with you. The love in their eyes for you is honestly kind of sickeningly sweet. Too bad you're all too dumb to see it, though. It's so damn obvious to everyone but you. You literally just need to talk to them, please, for the sake of your mental health and ours. Talk. To. Them."
"Okay? Even if that were remotely true. Steph's getting married. There's no way in the world she'd even consider leaving that behind. The man treats her better than I ever could. We're just better off as friends. It needs to stay that way."
"Y/n-"
"No, Beth, I'm done with this. Look. I have to go. I'll talk to you later."
Beths protests are cut off by the click of you hanging up.
Even if she was right, so were you. Steph wouldn't leave Dean. She loves him far too much. He's her safest option, and she knows it.
Caitlin wad a whole other story.
Sure, she's single now. But what makes her any more available to you than Steph? She's still your friend. There's no way she'd want you the way you want them.
Letting your head hit the door once more, you sigh, wondering how the hell you'd fix what you're already damaging.
--------------------------
It starts off slowly. She doesn't even realise she's doing it. Little things here and there.
Picking at the little issues she finds.
Poking and prodding at the soft spots, pushing buttons she wouldn't normally push.
Apparently, it's pretty easy to start fights when you know what buttons to push.
Why? She has no clue.
In her head, though. It's staring her right in the face.
The little comparisons she makes.
You'd never get upset over her leaving her boots in a heaped pile beside the door.
Your cooking was always so much better whenever she went over to your place.
You'd never have left her to find travel home on her own after a World Cup.
In fact, you'd actively made sure she had a ride home, her reassuring (lies) left you feeling relieved that she wouldn't be on her own after the exit the Matildas took at the World Cup.
Whatever it was that had you avoiding them, you'd figured out how to deter it. Returning to conversing with the two brunettes like nothing had happened.
It was a little unsettling how much she noticed you putting on a mask with them.
As hard as you'd tried to fake being fine, she could read you like an open book. Or at least to a fair extent.
For one, your smile never quite reached your eyes, save for the one or two times of victory during the games. The most honest one you give is the win over France.
It was another thing she noticed. She found herself breathing a little easier with you by her side, even with a shell of a smile.
She doesn't push you, though. Not wanting to scare you away again.
Caitlin was very much of the same opinion. Even though you'd stopped avoiding them, you still weren't your usual cheery sunshiney self around them.
The striker doesn't bring it up, though. Only encouraging you with silent smiles of encouragement and occasional soft brushes of her hand against your back, shoulder, or arm when she's next to you.
So Steph does the same. Seeing you both tense but also relax under their, although gentle, not so subtle ministrations.
In the early hours of another chaos filled weekday, mainly filled with silent frustration built up between her and Dean. The latter not knowing what's going on with his Fiancee, he eventually has to poke and prod her enough to spill it.
Though, stubborn as the Australian is, she doesn't give too much, only snapping that she's fine and to let it go.
It sparks an argument that ends up with him storming out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
It started over a simple question over that nights pumpkin cous cous salad.
It takes her but five minutes of seething to realise what she's starting and why.
She feels sick to her stomach.
She was sabotaging her relationship with Dean.
And for what? A silly crush on her friend?
What the hell is she doing?
-
It's in the early hours of the evening that she gets a text from Dean saying he's at a friend's place for the night and that she needs to cool down and work out what her problem is before he'll return home.
With a defeated sigh, she sends him a sincere apology, telling him she was just frustrated at everything lately and to take the time he needs and that she would work on herself in the meantime.
Not that she does, really. Apparently, she doesn't learn her lesson, instead pushing down the already bottle necked emotions she's experiencing.
She knows it'll blow up in her face eventually. But what can she do? Admit she's secretly in love with you and destroy an already sinking ship of a relationship?
Probably.
But why do that when can sabotage ever having a more peaceful break up.
It seems like she's doom spiralling at this point.
It was a petty fight that blew up. Not that uncommon or that bad that it would suggest either of them should be ready to give up on everything they worked for together.
But that's the thing.
It's taken until she's blown up at him to realise how much they're fighting for it here. All of that pressure to be together. To work out.
To be the perfect it couple.
To want to work out.
It feels like they're both constantly giving 110% but when does the relief come? When do they get their due release. When does it get easier?
She'd thought love was supposed to be easy between two people. For couples to know each other. To read each other without even really trying.
Yet here he was, struggling to realise his own fiancee was falling for another woman.
And that she was letting it happen.
Like an idiot.
The more she ruminates, the more she sees the signs herself.
She's been pulling away from him more and more. Avoiding talking about you, unlike before when she'd bring you up at least once a day to him. Always eager to gush about her best friend like a teenager.
Now, even the remote mention of you leaves twists in her guts, and she has to try and subtly change the subject without letting on that she's hopelessly not in love with him anymore.
Oh.
She's loves Dean.
Right?
No.
Yes.
She loves him.
But she's not in love with him.
Not anymore.
It scares her.
He's always been her safety blanket.
But maybe that's the issue.
He was too comfortable. Too much of a safety blanket. Shielding her from what she should have been acknowledging this entire time.
Maybe. Just maybe.
She's been in love with you this whole time.
That's what scares her the most.
And now that she's finally realising it, she realises there's a conversation to be had.
And feelings she needs to communicate. Even if it hurts both of them. Because in the end, it'll hurt worse if she tries to fight it anymore than she already has. She's already hurting Dean too much by leading him on like this. She can't take it anymore, she has to tell him.
-
Any fairytale story would tell you that it went surprisingly well. That Dean says he knew all along. That he knew Steph was secretly gay and had been waiting for her to tell him so he could comfort her and encourage her to go for the girl. To go for you. To finally acknowledge that those lingering stares from you might mean something.
Unfortunately, this isn't a fairytale.
And he doesn't take it well.
In fact, he's pretty furious when she timidly brings it up.
She doesn't blame him though.
"Are you fucking serious right now, Steph?"
She winces at that.
"You want to ruin what we have because of that bitch?"
Anger flares up in her chest at that, and she shoots to her feet suddenly, coming to your aid despite you being blissfully unaware and not present for this.
Yes she fucked up but he has no right to call you that.
"Don't fucking call her that. This isn't her fault. She didn't do anything wrong. Yell at me, blame me, call me the bitch but do not insult her. Ever."
He chuckles darkly.
"I should have fucking known. How did I not see it? We've been fighting an uphill battle this whole time. All we do is argue, argue, argue at this point. And you don't even try anymore. Fuck, you had a go at me over pasta the other week. You've been finding excuses to insult everything I do. Everything I've achieved. Apparently, I can't even get dinner right anymore. Nothing is good enough for you. Now I know you've just been comparing me to your teammate this whole time."
Her head falls at that.
He's right.
She's been the worst partner to him. There's no excuse.
"Now I know that you've just been lying to me this entire time. And by the looks of it, yourself too."
The following silence as she tries to gather her words only serves to tick him off more.
"Fuck you Stephanie. I hope she treats you well."
The slam of the front door as he grabs his packed luggage and walks out the door with it, taking the last of the relationship with him, makes her collapse back onto the couch.
The tears, the frustration, the anger, at herself more than anything for letting it get this bad. All of it just crashes down on her and for the first time in a long time, she let's her emotions take over and she just cries.
Grieving the loss of a relationship doomed from the start. Grieving the major fuck up on her part.
Crying because she knows it's gone now.
Crying because even if she does end up with you. She's lost a friend in the man she once thought she loved. And that's on her. She knows that.
For now, though, she allows herself to cry it out, knowing the acceptance will take a while to come before she can fully move on from that.
--------------------------
Giggling as you shove Caitlin lightly, her arms tightly wrapping around you and wiping her sweaty forehead all over your face, you blush as she presses a kiss to your cheek with a small wink as she jogs off to the locker room, you following behind with a shake of the head.
It seems you'd finally started to let go a bit. With Caitlin now doing everything in her power to get you to smile daily, you start to let your guard down at your own behest more and more.
It seems easier, though, considering the sudden icyness from a certain defender that has you being pushed into the arms of the striker instead, literally.
It feels like she's latching onto you every minute she can. You can feel the stares from the other side of the training grounds. Feel the burning stare as she watches you with her best friend. The one she's now also trying to grapple whether or not she's falling for too.
You don't pay it much mind during training, but you do attempt to pull Steph out of whatever has her this down suddenly.
Leaving her little notes of encouragement after particularly gruelling sessions where Jonas had let his frustration out pretty badly on her after some major mistakes on her part.
Making sure she's always hydrating during the particularly warmer sessions.
Making sure she's been eating correctly by leaving her homecooked meals on top of her car when she goes to leave for the day.
Making sure she knows you're there even though she never stopped knowing that in the first place.
She'd tried pushing you away to sort everything out, but in the end, you make it a little difficult with the loving you're unknowingly (or maybe knowingly, she doesn't know) giving her. Even in a time when she's trying to make it clear, she wants to be alone.
You and Caitlin don't let her, though.
The forward always grabs the girl by the arm to pair up for training, forcing her to chat way about what's been going on.
She doesn't tell her that she's harbouring feelings. She does tell her that her and Dean have broken up though.
That was a shock to the striker.
She'd thought the woman was perfectly happy, but it seems everything was just bubbling away under the surface.
Caitlin does feel a little guilty for being happy about it, knowing the girl is going through heartbreak and all she can selfishly think about is how she's single now too.
She tells the forward not to tell anyone for now, not wanting to affect the rest of the team with more drama than what usually occurs. Even you, much to the younger brunettes protests.
She doesn't tell you that session.
In fact, it takes her a whole month before you manage to break her walls down enough again to spill the filthy secret she's been harbouring.
"Oh, Steph, I'm so sorry."
Your hug after she tells you is warm. Warmer than she'd realised. The feeling of your arms around her brings a surprising amount of comfort for something that, although she was still grieving, was mostly over with the thought that it's over, that's that.
"S'fine, it was a mess anyways. Both of us were struggling to keep it civil in the end. It was my fault anyway. I just stopped loving him and refused to acknowledge it for so long. It blew up on me."
"Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt either. You're allowed to be upset about it. Sometimes, we can't control how we feel, Stephy."
But oh how right you were.
Despite her scrambling to lock down her feelings and keep her heart from latching itself onto you, it had done so with an eagerness to rival Katie in a no rules match. (Which after a couple weary tackles, had to be vetoed by Jonas and the medical staff).
"I know, jus' can't not feel guilty. I treated him like shit towards the end."
"Steph, from what you've told me, he only fired right back, too. Think about it. He got pissed when you tried to communicate that something needed to change. Maybe it hit a little closer to home for him, too."
What?
Wait a minute.
Oh god.
It wasn't entirely her fault.
It all makes sense now.
That's all it takes for her to finally pick up her phone again to check social media.
And what do you know. He's suddenly got a new girl on his arm, not even a month later.
Now she's pissed. She has every right to be.
Why, you ask?
The new girl on his arm was the clerk at his gym that he ran. The one that he said was only being friendly when Steph got mad about her being flirty.
That asshole.
You can see the thought process play out in her facial expressions, from the moment of realisation to the reaction to it.
"That lying cheating dick."
The evidence?
'Happy Six month anniversary baby'
One title on one post.
She feels so much pressure on her chest drop off with the discovery. Despite the anger, she feels freer than before. The crushing weight of the breakup is now firmly off of her shoulders, and she feels like she can breathe again.
Well, now she can let it all go and not feel guilty about wanting to move on.
Now, all she has to do is work everything else out, too.
"Oh god, he didn't."
Your face is one of concern, and frankly, she just about laughs, the ridiculousness of the situation almost bubbling over. So when she does laugh, you only look more concerned for the brunette.
"He did. I've never felt more relieved, to be honest with you. I felt so damn guilty for ending it the way things did. Turns out he's been screwing his work admin for the past six months. I hope that dick is happy. Those two are perfect for each other."
Despite the situation, you laugh with her, her arm slips around your shoulders.
"So I'm ready to get over it, dunno 'bout you, but I feel like celebrating."
"Ice cream and movie night."
"Absolutely, mind if I let Cait come too?"
"You better."
She grins at the smile that crosses your lips at the mention of the striker.
--------------------------
"Oh my god, I can not believe she let him do that. I swear these chicks are so stupid romance movies."
You groan out at the main character once again, falling for lover boys' false apologies, and Steph and Caitlin chuckle from either side of you, ceramic bowls in hand.
"Babe, it's a romance movie. What do you expect? It's gonna be cheesy and stupid."
Despite your cheeks flushing in the half lit up darkened lounge room in your house, you shake your head.
"Damn, if only she actually knew how to be treated, she might not go back to his dumb butt every time. Woman needs to learn to love herself more."
The pair exchange an amused look over your head, your form slumped into the cushions as they sit sideways on the lounger, arms holding up their heads as they watch you criticise the movie more and more.
What you miss is the shared look of affection over your head, a silent agreement as they both move to press themselves onto either side of you.
-
Cut back to this afternoon after training.
The pair of them had been chatting away, Steph having told Caitlin about your movie night when the striker got a look on her face. Like something clicked.
"So we were thinking- what? What's that look?"
"I just remembered something."
Steph gestures for the girl to continue.
"So.. when were you planning on telling me you ARE in love with Y/n."
Her cheeks flush bright red, and she stumbles over an explanation.
"It's still so fresh.. a-and I wasn't entirely sure and..."
The laugh that escapes the forward has her a little confused.
"Thank god. I thought I was imagining things. You're not the only one, Stephy. She's pretty great, huh?"
"You're not... I don't know, upset that I love her too?"
"Hell no. Steph. Puddin'. Babe. You can't control how you feel and if I'm being honest. I don't mind at all. Like, I kind of like that you do."
Caitlin's cheeks warm, and she looks down, scuffing her boots slightly against the turf.
There's a small pause as Steph observes the forward. She looks around and sees that everyone else has already made their way back towards the change rooms.
"Caitlin..."
The girl looks up again, finding dilated pupils staring back at her and she whines at the look.
"Steph..."
"Can I...-"
"Please."
That's all the indication the older woman needs to tug her into a harsh kiss, hands finding her cheeks.
Hands tangling in her hair make her whimper into the kiss, and a flush creeps up her neck to her ears as their lips slot together easily.
It feels so much softer, but also more passionate than anything she'd ever shared with that piece of garbage.
She practically melts when she feels the other woman's tongue lazily drag across her lower lip, knees just about buckling as the hands move to slip under the edge of her shirt, trailing across the skin of her stomach.
Eventually, they both pull away, gasping and air intermingling their puffed breaths.
"Oh. My. God."
Caitlin chuckles, hands moving back to settle on the woman's jawline.
"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."
Both of them are pressed tightly to one another, allowing their shared warmth to wrap around them, cocooning them for but a few short moments.
"I kept denying how much I realised I was falling for you both."
"Both?"
The hopeful glint in the striker's eye makes her melt further into her, lips grazing hers once again.
"You both made it so ridiculously hard not to. You've always cared more than anyone. And you do so much more than you realise for me, too."
The grin that crosses the strikers face as she leans her forehead against Stephs is mirrored by said woman.
"I may or may not have fallen for you both, too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"What do you say we go put the girl out of her misery, too? I hate to say it, but we totally missed the way she's been pining this whole time."
"That's an ego boost and a half."
"Like you need it."
An affectionate eye roll.
"Shush you."
And she slots their lips together again once more before sneaking back to the locker room.
-
The feeling of the two of them cuddling into suddenly makes you jump slightly, two hands resting on your stomach, shirt riding up slightly underneath their touch.
"I-... can I help you both? Are you okay?"
Both of their eyes on you makes you shrink in on yourself a little, worried something might be wrong.
"Perfectly fine gorgeous."
"Doing pretty, thanks, baby."
Your cheeks are glowing beneath the light of the television and both of them are still watching you intently.
Swallowing softly, you turn to meet Steph's eye.
"I- Can I tell you two something?"
"Of you can, babygirl."
A nod of affirmation from the striker has you nervously picking at your cuticles.
"It's about why I was avoiding you both back in camp. I was... nervous. I didn't want you to know something so I was trying not to spill it."
A soft chuckle from Steph.
"We know, sweetheart, that part was obvious."
Your cheeks flush a little more.
"And, I might have realised something and I've been scared to say anything. Because you're both my friends, and I don't wanna ruin what we have-"
"We know gorgeous."
"We could tell. You weren't overly subtle. It just took us a while to see it."
You duck your head a little, but a set of two fingers lifts it up by your chin again to face the older of the two.
Immediately, you whimper, spotting the way her eyes have darkened significantly.
"Kiss me. Please."
"With pleasure sweet girl."
And so they do. First Steph, claiming your bottom lip between hers, sucking at it, tugging it and letting it go with a soft pop, before pressing back to you again, hand sliding up under the fabric of your tshirt.
A pair of hands gently pulls you away from the defender, and another pair of soft lips quickly takes your own again, leaving you whimpering into it.
Parting your lips at the now hasty swipe of Caitlins tongue, she slips it into your mouth, moulding with your own, leaving you a forever breathless, whimpering mess. Literal putty beneath their fingertips.
Pulling away enough to speak, your chest rises and falls harshly, but you're beaten to it by the forward.
"We've fallen for you as well, sweet girl. We put off acknowledging it for so long, I don't know about you, but I dont feel like wasting anymore time. Be ours?"
Without a single moment of hesitation, you nod eagerly, quickly pulling Steph back into you, allowing your hands to rest on the nape of her neck and as Caitlin's hands trail up to the hemline of your sports bra, you subconsciously breath a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of several tonne trucks fall off your shoulders again.
They loved you too.
You could cry right now.
But you dont. Instead, you focus on the way they touch you like they'll never get to feel you ever again. You focus on the way they kiss you, stealing your breath away with every lock of their lips to yours.
In the end, you're so glad you listened to Beth for once. And she's very glad when she's you walk into training sporting new hickeys and two hands in your own, followed by mild regret now that you're all disgustingly in love, too.
Deep down, she loves it, though. She loves you, and she's glad you've finally got what you deserve.
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She's done, but I'm delirious, so I'll come back and edit tomorrow 😭
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