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covenofagatha · 4 months ago

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The Psychology of Love (Part 1)

The First Day

Your first class of Personality Psychology with Professor Agatha Harkness awaits

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: very light smut, slowburn, teacher x student

“Can you believe we’re graduating college in the spring?” your best friend and roommate, Wanda Maximoff, asks when you sit down at the table in the dining hall with a plate of toast and a cup of orange juice.

You shake your head, brain still foggy with sleep, and silently curse yourself for picking the nine AM class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It’s the first day of your senior fall semester and you already know it’s going to be rough. You really hope this is the kind of class that has optional attendance.

Wanda is much more of a morning person than you are, with chipper green eyes and a glow to her pale skin. She was more than happy to sign up for all early classes and you wish you had half of her energy.

“You have Creative Writing at nine and then Gender and Sexuality Studies at ten-fifteen?” you ask. Wanda’s an English major and you sometimes wish you had gone down that route as opposed to Psychology. It’s interesting, of course, but some of the courses you’ve had to take made you want to poke your eyes out with boredom.

She nods. “What do you have?”

Shrugging, you pull out your phone to look at your schedule. “Personality Psych at nine,” you say. “Physiological Psych at twelve. I really hope these aren’t bad.”

“Did you look up the professors? I did—apparently one of mine was fired for making racist comments and then rehired by the university,” Wanda scoffs and your eyes widen. “He apparently sued, it was a whole thing. So I bet that class should be fun.”

Her sarcasm makes you chuckle and then wince. “No, fuck, I didn’t look,” you say, inwardly kicking yourself. When you had registered for classes, there were only certain times that some of them were offered so you had to work around that. You didn’t get to be picky in your senior year, when you were down to the last few classes you needed to graduate.

You zoom in on the professor’s name for your first class on the screenshot of your schedule—Agatha Harkness. Typing it into google, you say a silent prayer that she’s an easy-A teacher.

Clicking on the first website, your face falls when you see that she has a two-point-nine out of five rating, with the average grade being a C. Difficulty level four out of five. Attendance mandatory. You scroll through the reviews and your heart sinks lower with each one.

Barely any homework, tests are about ninety percent of the grade.

I made two-hundred flashcards and still failed the final exam. Professor Harkness is a total hardass.

I didn’t wear my seatbelt while driving to class in the hopes I’d get into a car crash.

“Jesus,” you mutter. Some of them are a little better, saying that she’s a wicked genius, and that going to office hours will help. One of them says she has some unorthodox ways of teaching psychology and that she picks favorites—but it’s effective.

You put your phone away, not even bothering to look up any of your other professors. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

Wanda gets up to get some eggs and you bite into your cold toast, but you’ve lost your appetite. It’s your senior year and you can’t let your GPA tank this semester—you refuse to let that happen. If it takes going to office hours every day for the week before an exam, or buttering your professor up, you’ll fucking do it.

“Nat and I heard about a welcome-back rager that one of the sororities is hosting tonight,” Wanda says when she comes back. Natasha is her girlfriend, one of your other best friends. You take all the credit for them getting together. Both of them had confessed that they liked the other to you so you had made a reservation for dinner for the three of you at a restaurant known for its romantic setting and then you had texted them about three minutes before to let them know that you wouldn’t be able to make it.

Wanda didn’t come back to the dorm that night and when she had stumbled back in the next morning, her neck was covered in hickeys.

Your nose wrinkles. “A sorority?” Not that you have anything against them, you just imagine their parties being very guy-infested.

She laughs and rolls her eyes fondly. “It’s not what you’re thinking. They’re all invite-only and this is a queer sorority.”

“Oh. Yeah, that sounds fun then.”

“Maybe you can get some action,” Wanda smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Snorting, you take a long sip of orange juice to delay answering. Your love life has been complicated to say the least. Your first serious relationship was in freshman year of college, when a girl who had lived across the hall from you asked you out and no one had told you that it was a bad idea to date someone who lives that close to you. She was clingy and immature and you weren’t convinced that she actually cared about you—more just the idea of you.

And you felt more from just a few compliments from women twice your age than you did the entire time with her.

Looking back on it now, the whole thing was a bit of a mistake but you had gotten some experience from it and thankfully you had moved dorm buildings and hadn’t seen her again since.

There had been some hookups in the past two years—drunk calls and makeouts in the bathroom at parties—but no one had caught your eye.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you say evasively. It just felt like something was constantly missing. You hadn’t opened up to Wanda or Nat about it, but you secretly longed for what the two of them had with each other. “It’s tonight?”

Wanda hums. “At nine. So Nat will come over around then and we can pregame and then head over? Can’t be too early.”

You shake your head at how egregious it would be before laughing. Natasha plops down next to Wanda, out of breath, before kissing her girlfriend on the cheek. They giggle to each other and you push your chair back.

“I should probably get going. I can only imagine what my professor would do if I’m late,” you say.

One of your general psych professors taught you that there’s only one type of person who goes out of their way to do a survey or write a review: someone who feels incredibly strongly about it. For each person who wrote a bad review about Professor Harkness, there’s surely five people who did just fine in the class with no complaints. That makes you feel a little better and you smile at your friends before trekking across campus.

Her classroom is in the Psychology building, which is possibly the furthest one from the dining hall, and by the time you get there and walk up the flight of stairs, your calves are burning and you have to make an effort to control your heavy breathing.

But you have five minutes to spare and the room is empty, so you lean against the wall next to the door on your phone. You’re already getting notifications of assignments for this week—why do you have five things to do for one class? A ball of stress starts to coil in your stomach.

“Nervous habit?” someone asks, and it takes you a moment to realize that they’re talking to you. You look up, surprised, and find an older woman, maybe late forties, with curly dark hair that’s tossed over her shoulders, dark blue eyes that pierce into yours, and large, black glasses resting on her nose. She’s wearing a navy dress with a black blazer and smart brown shoes. Her eyebrow is posed expectantly and you realize that you’ve been chewing on your thumb nail.

You clear your throat and straighten up, a feeling that you can’t quite name growing inside you. “Sorry?”

Her lips slowly stretch into a smile and you catch a whiff of her perfume—a unique blend of warm vanilla with a dark coffee and something extra that adds a little spice. “Are you here for class?” she asks.

“Yeah, um, Personality Psych,” you answer, feeling like you’re missing out on something. She looks absolutely delighted and steps to the side of you to open the door to the classroom. The pieces slowly click into place and your mouth drops open. “You—you’re Professor Harkness?”

She smirks. “Not who you were expecting?”

She is not who you were expecting at all. The reviews made it sound like she was a mean crone deriving pleasure from failing students left and right. Not an attractive older woman.

You swallow roughly.

Professor Harkness tilts her head to the side and you brush past her into the classroom, muttering a “Not really,” her scent lingering in your nostrils. It’s a small room and you sit at a desk in the second row on the left side, where the lectern is. You’ve found that it’s easier to focus when you’re close to the teacher.

More students trickle in and sit behind you or to the side of you. No one takes the desk in front of you, though, so when Professor Harkness sweeps through the aisles of chairs and stops at the front, you’re in her direct line of sight. Her eyes twinkle when they land on you and you squirm.

“Welcome to Personality Psychology,” she announces at nine on the dot. “I am Professor Agatha Harkness. I have a PhD in clinical and behavior psychology. I’m sure many of you have heard or read that this class is difficult.”

Out of your peripheral vision, you see some people nodding and nervously chuckling.

She slams a hand down on the surface of the lectern, making everyone jump. “They are correct. But, let me tell you something. A lot of the students that take this class think it will be easy. They hear ‘Freud’ and they think ‘Oedipus Complex’. They hear ‘biological approach’ and they think ‘nature versus nurture’. Of course we will cover that—but we will also go very deep into what each theory pertains and includes. People fail because they think there’s too much information so they give up. What’s the solution?Try.”

You wonder if she saw the review from the person that said they made two-hundred flashcards and still failed.

Agatha moves to the desk next to the lectern to log into the computer. Quiet chatter fills the room, people introducing themselves to each other, but you dig in your bag and pull out a notepad and a pen. Your psych teacher in high school taught you that writing down information helps your brain retain it better than typing, so you’ve grown accustomed to taking notes by hand.

She presses a button and the screen at the front of the classroom turns on and projects the syllabus. Agatha quickly goes through it, making note of the three exams and two research presentations that are scattered throughout the semester, and someone raises their hand.

“So we only have five grades?” he asks, a nervous tremor in his voice. You’re right there with him—it will be very hard to bring your grade back up if you do bad on a test.

Agatha stares him down. “If you do well on each one, you won’t need more than that.” The boy stammers but she moves on, telling everyone that attendance is indeed mandatory and that she won’t be posting the slides for notes online. You inwardly groan, hoping that your fear of failure will outweigh your lack of motivation.

When she closes the tab with the syllabus, you hear rustling behind you and you turn slightly to see a girl packing up. A quick check of your watch shows that there’s still thirty minutes left.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Agatha says. “Did I dismiss the class?”

The girl freezes before slinking back into her seat. “No, sorry, I just thought—”

Agatha laughs humorlessly and you flinch. “Well, you are dismissed. We’ll see you on Wednesday unless you drop the class first.” The girl’s mouth drops open, eyes glassy, but she holds her head high as she walks out of the door.

If you were her, you’re not sure you’d be able to come back.

“Alright, let’s get into it,” Agatha says, clicking on a new tab and opening a slideshow. There’s a quiet ugh among everyone—of course she’s making you take notes on the first day. “What is personality?”

No one moves an inch, no one says a word.

She scoffs and stands up, perusing the room. You’re sure everyone is doing the exact same thing as you—looking anywhere but the professor. Raising your hand to your mouth and biting your fingernails, you feel her eyes on you and you reluctantly meet her gaze.

“It’s the way you think and behave?” you offer and she smiles pleasantly. A feeling of warmth spreads through you at the validation.

She clicks to the next slide. “Very good. The definition I want you to know is that personality is first and foremost a construct. It’s an idea that we created. It’s a person’s overall, individual pattern of behaviors, emotions and thoughts. There are five basic approaches to how we can look at personality.”

You furiously scribble that down. You’re one of the only people who’s writing notes and she thankfully waits for you to look up before continuing.

“We have the Trait approach, the Biological approach, the Psychoanalytical approach, the Phenomenological approach, and the Behavioral approach. I’m sure some of you are familiar with most of these, but over the semester, we’re going to really dive into how each of these approaches views personality and what they think is the basis for it. There are a lot of different ways to assess personality, some a lot more legitimate methods than others.”

Someone raises their hand and Agatha nods at them. “The Trait approach is where we look at the Big Five personality test, right?”

Agatha sighs and clicks to the next slide. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to in an attempt to appear smart. It doesn’t work.” You stifle a laugh—she sees and winks at you and your cheeks flush.

She continues talking a bit, giving you a bit of information about each one, before telling everyone to take out a piece of paper.

“Draw a picture of a house and your family, whatever it looks like to you,” Agatha instructs. She sets a timer for five minutes while she walks around and glances at people’s work.

When she gets to you, her perfume invades your nostrils as she bends over your shoulder. You can feel her hair brush your back. She hums in your ear and your stomach heats up.

“This is an example of a projection test. You can tell a lot about a person based on how they drew the things,” she says, sitting back at her desk. “How intricate they draw the house. If it looks like the place they grew up in. Where they put themselves compared to the rest of the family. Who is even included in the family. I’m not going to collect these, but if you do want me to take a look at them so you can judge for yourself how accurate it is, stay after class. If not, then you may go and I’ll see everyone on Wednesday.”

You’re the only person who doesn’t immediately rush out the door and you slowly make your way up to her, paper in hand. Her eyes flick to yours and she smirks, like she knew she could count on you.

She holds out her hand and you give her your drawing. The lines on her forehead crease and she nods, analyzing it. You shift and scratch your head and resist the urge to bite your nails because of her comment earlier.

Agatha puts the paper down on the desk, faced towards you. “The house isn’t detailed—just a square with a door and four windows and a triangle as the roof. Maybe you’re just not an artist, or maybe you never really considered any place home.”

It feels like all the air gets sucked out of your lungs.

“There’s space between you and these people,” she points to you and then to your mom, brother, and father, “but there’s also space between your parents. Or that’s who I’m guessing they are.”

You nod.

“It seems like you don’t feel very connected to them, or to your home. Maybe their home specifically?” She looks up at you, lips quirked up. “So, projective tests—total nonsense?”

Chuckling shakily, you meet her eyes. “Total,” you joke.

Agatha leans back in her chair and studies you. “What made you want to study psychology?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know,” you say lamely, shifting your weight from one foot to another. “I guess I just like knowing how people think. What about you?”

There’s a dark glint in her eyes. “Understanding people, the way they think—” she gestures to you in agreement with your answer, “—it gives you power over them. You know how to get inside their head, you know how to get what you want.”

The air seems to thicken around you two and her perfume makes you dizzy. “What do you want?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. Her eyebrow twitches up.

“Right now, I want a coffee,” she asserts, standing up and handing you back your paper. Whatever spell, whether real or imagined on your end, is broken and Agatha smiles. “I’ll see you Wednesday?”

The unspoken question is if you’re going to drop the class, if you’re scared off by her demeanor. You meet her gaze firmly. “I’ll see you then.”

“Have a good rest of the day, y/n,” she says, walking past you and out the door, and you stand there, agape, realizing that you never told her your name. ~~~

“I’m Natasha Romanoff! I’m friends with Stacy,” Nat yells over the pumping music from inside the sorority. The girl at the door nods and moves to the side to let you, Nat, and Wanda into the house.

The lights are a deep blue and you see people in the corners doing shots and playing beer pong, there’s girls making out in the middle of the floor, guys outside in the pool. You turn to say something to your friends, but they’ve already gone off somewhere else and left you standing there alone.

So you go and fill a cup up with beer from the keg and take in the scene, perfectly content to just be a wallflower for the night. You’re not even really sure why you came, but you had nothing else to do and now the drinks you had earlier are settling pleasantly in your stomach, making your veins buzz and your head float.

“Hey!” someone says loudly and you look to the side to find a girl with dark hair and blue eyes standing there. “You look lonely.”

You laugh and take another sip. “My friends left me. They’re probably hooking up in a bedroom right now.”

She leans in closer and you find yourself mirroring her. “Do you want to go look in the bedrooms and see if we can find them?”

“What? Why would I—” She raises an eyebrow and it clicks. “Wait, are you hitting on me?” She nods and you down the rest of your drink. You’re about to apologize and walk away when you inhale and smell something.

Vanilla, coffee, and a hint of something else.

There’s a flicker of heat in your stomach and you reach out a hand to cup her cheek, bringing her closer to you.

It’s her. You can’t explain it, but energy thrums under your skin and you pull her mouth to yours. The scent fills your nose and your mouth and you moan. She pushes you against the wall and you don’t even know her name but you don’t care.

Your tongue licks into her mouth and she whimpers, hands frantically sliding down your body and around your waist. You’ve never done anything like this before, never this reckless, but there’s something about her that is driving you crazy.

Her fingers fiddle with the button on your jean shorts before sliding in, her smell the only thing you can focus on and it hits you.

It’s the same perfume as Agatha was wearing in class.

You should stop because it’s so fucked up but you’re too wet now to just walk away so you wrap your arms around her to bring her closer.

And when she slides a finger into you, in a hallway in a sorority house amidst fifty other undergraduates, your professor is all you can think about.

Part Two

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs @agathascoven1

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha harkness fanfic #covsfics #psychology of love

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faebled-stories · 7 months ago

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No Strings, No Heart

Kinkvember Day 23: Friends with Benefits

ITZY Lia (Choi Jisu) x Male reader

13.3k words

You and Lia had been friends since high school, back when neither of you had any idea what life would have in store. She had been the new girl, fresh from Canada, with a soft-spoken voice and an air of quiet confidence that intrigued everyone, including you. You’d been assigned seats next to each other in English class, and what started as casual small talk soon grew into a friendship you hadn’t expected.

Lia, or Jisu as she’d been known then, had dreams even back then that set her apart. While most of your classmates were focused on cramming for college entrance exams or deciding what clubs to join, Lia was already chasing something bigger: a career in music. She was always humming under her breath, jotting lyrics in the margins of her notebook, and rushing off to auditions after school.

When she finally became a trainee, it wasn’t a surprise, but it did mark the start of a more distant phase in your friendship. She spent most of her time at the company, training long hours, while you finished school and moved on to university.

Despite the distance, you kept in touch—texts here and there, occasional coffee meetups when she had a rare free day. When she debuted with ITZY, you were one of the first to congratulate her, your heart swelling with pride as you watched her music videos and performances from your tiny apartment.

Even as her life grew more hectic, Lia never let go of your connection. Whenever her schedule allowed, she’d call you up, sometimes late at night, her voice exhausted but warm as she asked about your day, complaining about the pressures of idol life in the same breath. She was still Jisu to you, your old high school friend, even as the world knew her as Lia.

-----

It was one of those late-night meetups—a rainy evening in her cozy Seoul apartment—that changed the dynamic between you. Her space smelled of vanilla candles and faintly of jasmine tea, her usual go-to after a long day. You sat awkwardly on her beige couch, holding a mug that was almost too hot, watching her as she lounged on the floor, cross-legged in an oversized sweater and shorts.

“You’re always so tense,” Lia said suddenly, her voice cutting through the soft patter of rain against the windows. Her damp hair fell in natural waves around her face, framing her features in a way that was almost disarming. This was not the poised, camera-ready idol the world saw. This was the Lia you knew—barefoot, casual, real.

You chuckled nervously, unsure where she was going with this. “Work’s been crazy, I guess.”

“That’s always your excuse,” she teased, setting down her mug with a soft clink. “But honestly, you’ve been like this since high school. Always wound up. Always overthinking.”

“Well, sorry for being consistent,” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

She smiled too, but there was something different in her expression—something calculated yet sincere. “You know, we could help each other out.”

Your brow furrowed. “Help each other out… how?”

Lia tilted her head, studying you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “I don’t want anything complicated,” she began, her tone careful but confident. “No drama, no commitments. Just… something easy. For both of us.”

The words felt surreal, hanging in the air between you. “Wait, are you saying…?”

“I’m saying,” she interrupted, her voice softer now, “that we’re both stressed. Both stuck in our own routines. And you’re… safe.”

“Safe?” you echoed, unsure whether to feel flattered or insulted.

Lia rolled her eyes, laughing. “You know what I mean. I trust you. You’re not going to do anything stupid like fall in love with me. And let’s be honest—you’ve never been great with relationships.”

“Wow, thanks,” you muttered, though you couldn’t deny the accuracy of her words. Dating had never come easily to you, and Lia knew it better than anyone.

“I’m just saying it makes sense,” she said, her smile softening into something almost reassuring. “We’ve known each other forever. We trust each other. And I need… an escape, you know? A way to blow off steam without it becoming a mess.”

You hesitated, turning the idea over in your head. “I don’t know, Lia. Stuff like this—doesn’t it get messy?”

“Not if we’re honest with each other,” she said simply. “We set boundaries. We stick to them. And if it doesn’t work, we stop. No harm, no foul.”

Her words were logical, almost too logical, and the idea of being close to someone you trusted—someone who understood you without the usual complications—was more tempting than you wanted to admit.

“I… guess,” you said finally, your voice tinged with hesitation. “If you’re sure about this.”

Lia’s smile widened, a spark of relief and something else—satisfaction?—in her eyes. “I’m sure.”

And just like that, the boundaries of your friendship shifted. You told yourself it was perfect—a way to connect without risking anything deeper.

The first few times were… great. Better than great. There was an ease to it that neither of you had anticipated, a natural rhythm that made it feel less like a new arrangement and more like something that had always been there, waiting to be discovered. The way your bodies fit together was effortless, as though they’d been designed for this connection, every touch and movement aligning perfectly. It wasn’t just about the physical pleasure—though that was undeniable—it was the comfort of being close to someone who understood you in a way no one else did.

Lia had a way of melting into your arms, her laughter and sighs carrying a vulnerability that made the moments feel intimate even in their simplicity. You liked similar things, and exploring that together felt easy, seamless. The way her breath hitched against your skin, the way she responded to every touch with a soft moan or a shiver, made it feel less like an arrangement and more like a quiet escape for both of you.

When she reached for you in the stillness of her room, there was no hesitation, no awkwardness—just a mutual understanding that you could let go with each other.

It was everything she had promised: no drama, no complications. It was a release, a way to step outside the stress of your individual lives and find solace in each other. You told yourself that this was enough, that it didn’t need to mean anything more. And for a while, it didn’t.

But then, one night, everything shifted.

The atmosphere in Lia’s room felt thick with the unspoken, a cocoon of warmth and intimacy as the world outside faded away. The soft scent of jasmine and the lingering notes of her perfume were a quiet contrast to the faint tension in her voice as she spoke.

“It’s been… such a day,” she said with a sigh, leaning back against the headboard, her oversized sweater slipping from one shoulder. Her fingers idly played with the hem, a distraction as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “I feel like everyone wanted a piece of me today. The schedules, the cameras, the smiles—they don’t stop.”

You nodded, sitting close enough to her that the faintest brush of her knee against yours sent sparks up your spine. “You don’t have to explain. I can see it,” you said softly, meeting her eyes. “You’re always carrying so much.”

Her lips twitched into a small, tired smile. “Sometimes, I wish I could just turn it all off. Just… for a little while.”

“You can, here,” you offered, your voice steady despite the way your heart was racing. “You don’t have to be anything but you.”

Her eyes softened, and she reached out to touch your arm, her fingers grazing your skin. “That’s why I asked you to come tonight,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, almost fragile. “I need this. I need you.”

The weight of her words hit you with a force you weren’t entirely prepared for, but you nodded, leaning in slightly. “I’m here,” you said simply, your hand finding hers and squeezing gently.

The next moments unfolded slowly, deliberately, as if neither of you wanted to rush. Her sweater slipped further, pooling around her elbows as she lifted it over her head and let it fall to the floor. Her body, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, was breathtaking. She looked up at you, her eyes steady but vulnerable, as if daring you to say something, to break the spell.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured, the words escaping before you could stop them.

A soft laugh escaped her, and she reached up to brush your cheek. “You’re such a sap,” she teased, though her voice was warm, her expression soft. “But I like it.”

You leaned in to kiss her, your lips meeting in a slow, deliberate connection. It started tenderly, a gentle brush of warmth, but quickly deepened, your hands finding her waist, her hips, exploring the curve of her body. She gasped softly against your lips, her hands sliding under your shirt to tug it off, the cool air of the room making your skin prickle as she traced patterns along your chest.

Guiding her back against the bed, you hovered over her, her hair spilling across the pillow in soft waves like a dark halo. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated her features, her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips evidence of the moment’s growing intensity. Her hands found your shoulders, her touch steady but eager as her breath quickened. The feel of her bare skin against yours, the warmth of her body beneath you, sent a rush of heat through you.

Before moving further, you paused, reaching for the small foil packet on the bedside table. Lia watched you, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, her gaze steady yet filled with trust. You slipped the condom on quickly, her hand brushing lightly against your arm in a silent gesture of reassurance.

As you align yourself with her, you paused again, your gaze locking onto hers. “Are you ready?” you asked softly, the weight of your question hanging in the quiet space between you.

Her lips curled into a faint smile, and her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. “Absolutely, I need this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with unmistakable longing. “I need you.”

The moment of joining was slow, deliberate, her body tensing slightly as you pressed into her. A quiet gasp escaped her lips, her fingers tightening on your shoulders, her nails faintly digging in as she adjusted to the closeness. You paused, giving her time, your heart pounding in sync with hers. Her breaths quickened, each rise and fall of her chest matching the rhythm you were beginning to create. The heat of her skin against yours was all-consuming, grounding and electrifying all at once.

You began to move, slow and measured, each motion deliberate. Her soft moans and quiet gasps filled the air, small sounds that spurred you on, each one sending shivers down your spine. Her hands roamed your back, nails occasionally dragging across your skin, her hips lifting instinctively to meet yours. The connection between you was unspoken but undeniable, a rhythm building that felt less like something physical and more like a quiet surrender.

Her lips parted as she whispered your name, her voice soft and trembling, a plea that made your chest ache. The way she looked up at you took your breath away. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes fluttering open and shut, and the vulnerability in her gaze made you falter for a moment. You’d always thought Lia was beautiful, but here, now, she was something more—raw, open, and completely unguarded. Every quiet sound she made, every brush of her hands against you, seemed to weave a thread between you that went far beyond the act itself.

Your pace deepened, becoming more deliberate as you leaned down to capture her lips. Her response was immediate, her mouth opening to you as her hands slid into your hair, pulling you closer. The heat between you grew, a symphony of gasps, moans, and murmured words filling the space. Her legs tightened around your waist, her body pressing into yours as if to pull you even closer.

You pulled back slightly, your lips trailing down her jawline to her neck, brushing over the delicate curve of her throat. Her skin was warm and flushed beneath your touch, and you felt her shiver as your mouth moved lower, pressing kisses behind her ear. The spot you’d discovered during your time together—the one that always drove her wild. Her reaction was immediate, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her body arched into you.

Her hands clung to your shoulders as your lips continued their path, down her collarbone and toward the swell of her chest. You paused for a moment, letting your tongue flick gently over the sensitive skin there, before capturing one of her nipples between your lips. Lia let out a low, trembling moan, her nails digging into your back as you lavished attention on her. You alternated between gentle kisses and firmer, more deliberate nips, her body responding to each one with a sharp intake of breath or a soft cry.

Your free hand roamed over her body, sliding along the curve of her waist and the dip of her hips. You teased her other breast with your fingertips, rolling and brushing against her skin in time with the rhythm of your lips. Her body writhed beneath you, her hips lifting instinctively as if to draw you closer, the heat between you growing with every touch.

From her chest, your lips traveled downward, leaving a trail of warmth across her stomach. Lia’s breathing grew heavier, her hands tangling in your hair as you moved lower, savoring the way her body reacted to every press of your lips, every flick of your tongue. Her quiet whimpers and soft moans filled the room, a soundtrack to the intimacy building between you.

You moved back up, your mouth returning to the curve of her neck, brushing kisses along her jawline before finding her lips again. The kiss was deep and consuming, her hands pulling you closer as though she couldn’t get enough of you. Her legs tightened around your waist once more, her body pressing into yours as the rhythm between you grew more urgent, more deliberate.

Her reactions—each shiver, each soft cry, each whispered plea—fueled you, blurring the line between physical connection and something deeper. You knew every spot that made her tremble, every touch that left her gasping, and you used them all, the intimacy between you growing with each passing moment. It wasn’t just her body you craved—it was her trust, her surrender, the way she opened herself to you completely, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Her voice broke through your focus, her breathless words trembling as she gasped, “You feel so good… Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” you murmured, your voice hoarse and strained, barely able to contain the emotions coursing through you. Her flushed cheeks, the vulnerability in her gaze, the way her body clung to yours—it all struck you in a way you hadn’t prepared for.

The tension between you built steadily, every motion pulling you both closer to a precipice. Her moans grew louder, breaking into desperate cries as her body moved in sync with yours. Her hips met you with an urgency that matched your own, and her hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, her nails dragging against your skin.

“I’m so close,” she whimpered, her voice trembling and raw in a way that sent shivers through you. Her head tilted back, her body arching beautifully beneath you as she clung to you like you were her lifeline. “I—oh my god, I’m cumming… I love it, don’t stop, please.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, the raw need in her voice breaking through every wall you’d built around your feelings. Her climax overtook her in a wave, her body trembling violently as she cried out, her voice unguarded and desperate. The sight of her face, twisted in pure ecstasy, sent a jolt through you. Her name fell from her lips like a prayer, her body shuddering as she reached the peak, clutching at you with a force that left no doubt of the depth of her release.

And then, it hit you—seeing her like this, so open, so completely undone, you realized something you couldn’t ignore. You wanted to be the only one to give her this feeling. The thought struck like lightning, leaving you trembling even as your own release loomed. It wasn’t just about the act—it was about her, about how much you wanted to hold onto this moment, this connection, this vulnerability that was uniquely hers.

Your climax followed, surging through you in powerful, unrelenting waves as you buried your face in her neck. A guttural groan escaped you, your body trembling with the intensity of it. The warmth of your release pooled into the condom, each pulse carrying with it the weight of everything you’d been holding back. The sensations were overwhelming, magnified by the realization that this wasn’t casual for you anymore. Maybe it never had been.

Even as the waves subsided, you stayed close, holding her tightly against you. Her fingers traced lazy, soothing patterns along your back, her touch grounding you as your heart pounded against hers. Her breaths were soft, mingling with your own in the quiet aftermath. The intimacy of the moment was almost too much, yet you didn’t want it to end.

Finally, you pulled back slightly, your heart still racing as you pressed a kiss to her damp forehead. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips curved into a faint, tired smile, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you filled with unspoken emotions that neither of you seemed ready to name.

You leaned back carefully, slipping out of her with a quiet groan as her body shuddered at the loss of closeness. Reaching down, you removed the condom, tying it off as you moved to the side of the bed. Lia’s gaze followed you, her cheeks still rosy from the exertion, and when her eyes landed on what you held, her lips quirked into a teasing smile.

“Wow,” she said, her voice still breathy but laced with playful amusement. “You’ve been… pent up, huh?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, the tension between you easing slightly at her tone. “Yeah, maybe a little,” you admitted, your voice still low and rough from the intensity of the moment.

She laughed, a soft, light sound that made your chest tighten again, her fingers brushing over your arm as if to reassure you. “I’ll take it as a compliment,” she said, her smile widening slightly as she leaned back against the pillow, her gaze softening.

In that moment, as you looked at her—flushed, vulnerable, yet teasing—you couldn’t ignore the shift that had happened. Whatever boundaries had existed between you before were gone, and the weight of that realization lingered, pressing gently against your heart.

You stood, disposing of the condom in the bathroom, your mind still reeling from everything that had just unfolded. The intensity of the moment lingered, but it wasn’t just the physical closeness that consumed you—it was the emotions swelling in your chest, threatening to spill over. You tried to push the thoughts aside as you cleaned up, focusing on the simple motions as a way to steady yourself.

When you returned to the bed, Lia was already nestled under the blankets, her cheeks still faintly flushed, her hair spilling over the pillow in soft waves. She looked up at you, her eyes warm and inviting, and without a word, she lifted the blanket in a silent invitation. It was a gesture you’d grown accustomed to—a familiar rhythm that had followed these nights together. But this time, something about it felt heavier, weighted with an unspoken shift between you.

You climbed into bed beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. She moved closer almost instinctively, her body curling into yours, her head resting against your chest as her arm draped across your stomach. The warmth of her, the way she fit so perfectly against you, was both comforting and terrifying.

Her breathing began to slow, her body relaxing as if this was the most natural thing in the world. And it was—for her. For you, though, the usual ease wasn’t there. You lay stiffly, staring up at the ceiling as a moment of dread washed over you.

You’ve broken the rules.

It hit you with the weight of a confession you’d been avoiding for weeks, maybe months. You’d convinced yourself this was fine, that you could keep things casual, that it was just a way to connect without getting too close. But tonight had shattered that illusion. You weren’t just drawn to Lia—you’d fallen for her.

Your chest tightened as the realization settled in. The way she laughed, the way she trusted you enough to let her guard down, the way she made you feel seen in a way no one else ever had—it wasn’t just something you could brush aside anymore. It was real, and it was terrifying.

You glanced down at her, your heart aching as you took in the soft curve of her lips, the peaceful expression on her face. She looked so at ease, so content, and you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb that. But the weight of your feelings pressed heavily against your chest, threatening to suffocate you.

Lia shifted slightly, her arm tightening around you as if sensing your tension. “You’re quiet,” she murmured, her voice drowsy but laced with curiosity. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper as you forced yourself to relax beneath her touch. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Because as much as you wanted to stay in this moment—her warmth, her closeness—you knew that everything had changed. You’d crossed a line you couldn’t uncross, and now you weren’t sure what to do.

-----

The weeks that followed were an emotional minefield. Every stolen glance, every shared laugh, every moment Lia curled up beside you after an intense night—all of it dug deeper into the growing pit in your chest. It wasn’t just about intimacy anymore; it was everything. The way she smiled at you, her guard let down for just a moment. The way she playfully mocked your quirks, grounding you with the ease of someone who knew you better than anyone. You craved her in ways that went beyond physical. You wanted all of her—her bad days, her hopes, her fears, and everything in between.

But you couldn’t say it.

The rules had always been clear: no emotions, no strings, no complications. Lia had built walls around herself, walls you understood were necessary given her chaotic life. Your arrangement was her sanctuary, an escape from the pressures of her career, her fame, and the unrelenting expectations placed on her shoulders. You told yourself that being her safe space was enough. It had to be.

That night had started like many others, but it carried a weight you couldn’t ignore. As the moment reached its peak, Lia shifted downward, her lips trailing across your skin with a deliberate slowness that sent shivers coursing through you. When her mouth finally enveloped you, a deep groan escaped your lips, your hand instinctively tangling in her hair.

Her movements were teasing but purposeful, each flick of her tongue measured to drive you closer to the edge. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, glinting with mischief yet laced with something softer, something deeper. “You’ve been so stiff lately,” she murmured, her breath warm against you before continuing, her voice low and sultry as her tongue worked with maddening precision.

The intimacy overwhelmed you, her familiarity with your body leaving you utterly undone. She knew exactly how to unravel you, to find the places that made you tremble, the rhythm that pushed you to your breaking point. When your release finally overtook you, it was overwhelming, waves of pleasure crashing through you with an intensity that left you trembling. Your fingers tightened briefly in her hair as a hoarse gasp escaped you, the heat of the moment leaving you breathless.

Lia pulled back gently, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She moved back up to lie beside you, her body fitting against yours with an ease that should have felt comforting. But this time, it didn’t. This time, it felt different.

She settled against you, her head resting on your chest, her breathing steady and calm. Her hair tickled your skin, her warmth both soothing and torturous as a quiet dread began to build in your chest. It wasn’t just physical anymore—this was heavier, filled with emotions you couldn’t keep bottled up.

Before you could stop yourself, the words rose in your throat. “Jisu,” you began softly, her name catching in your throat.

She hummed in response, her eyes still closed, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Hmm?”

“Do you ever think…” You hesitated, the words feeling too heavy, too dangerous. But they pushed forward anyway, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you ever think this could be something more?”

Her eyes opened slowly, the smile fading as her expression shifted into something unreadable. She propped herself up on one elbow, her hair falling in soft waves around her face, the sheets slipping slightly off her shoulder. Her gaze met yours, searching and cautious, and the seconds stretched into an eternity.

“Why are you asking?” she asked softly, her tone carrying a mix of curiosity and caution.

Your heart raced, panic rising in your chest as you scrambled for a response. “I was just thinking,” you lied, the words tumbling out too quickly. “It’s nothing. I don’t know, just… a thought.”

Her expression didn’t change, her gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before she sat up fully. Wrapping the blanket around herself like a shield, her voice was calm but resolute as she said, “Hmm, no, I don’t think so. The reason this works is because it’s casual. If we start complicating things, it’ll ruin everything.”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, sharp and cutting in their finality. You nodded slowly, forcing a smile you didn’t feel. “Oh… yeah… You’re right. Forget I said anything.”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She lay back down, resting her head on your chest again as if nothing had happened. Her breathing evened out, her warmth against you a cruel comfort. But for you, everything had changed.

The words you’d been holding back, the feelings you’d buried, wouldn’t stay quiet anymore. They clawed at you, louder with every passing day, until the very thought of continuing like this felt unbearable. You had broken the rules, and the weight of that truth suffocated you in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

-----

Over time you tried convinced yourself to accept her boundaries, telling yourself that being with Lia on her terms was better than not having her at all. But that fragile resolve cracked wide open the day you saw the article.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the kind of day meant for doing nothing. Sunlight spilled through your apartment windows, painting the floor in golden streaks as you scrolled absently through your phone. Outside, the faint hum of the city mixed with the rhythmic ticking of the clock, a peaceful backdrop to your aimless thoughts.

Then your phone buzzed, pulling you from the haze of routine. Without thinking, you tapped the notification.

The headline hit like a physical blow: "ITZY’s Lia Spotted on a Romantic Date with beloved Idol."

Your stomach tightened instantly, a sharp ache blooming in your chest as you scrolled through the accompanying photos. Each swipe felt like tearing open a wound. There she was, walking arm-in-arm with another idol. The soft rustling of the park’s trees in the background, the dappled sunlight falling on their faces—it all looked so serene, so effortless. Their casual clothes hinted at an attempt to keep things discreet, but the atmosphere around them screamed intimacy.

And then one photo stopped you cold.

Her head tilted slightly, her hair catching the sunlight like a halo. Her eyes—soft and filled with a warmth that felt painfully familiar—were fixed on him. She was smiling, bright and genuine, the corners of her lips curving in a way that was devastatingly effortless. That smile was reserved for someone special. Someone who wasn’t you.

Your chest ached, a dull yet unrelenting pain spreading through you as you stared at the screen. The world around you seemed to fade, the sunlight that had once felt comforting now harsh and uninviting. The faint hum of the city became muffled, replaced by the deafening rush of your own thoughts.

Has she ever looked at you like that? Has she ever smiled at you in that way, with that kind of quiet adoration? A part of you knew the answer, even if you didn’t want to admit it. The answer cut deeper than anything she’d ever said or done.

The seconds stretched into minutes as you stared at the image, the knot in your stomach tightening with each passing moment. You could almost hear her laugh in your head, see the way she looked at you during your private moments together. But it wasn’t the same. It had never been the same.

The sharp buzz of another notification snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. Lia’s name flashed across the screen, her message simple: “Are you free?”

The words sat at the top of your screen, directly above the article. The juxtaposition was cruel, a perfect encapsulation of everything that had been tearing you apart. Your thumb hovered over the notification, your mind swirling with a chaotic mix of emotions—anger, hurt, jealousy, longing. Every rational part of you screamed not to reply. To protect yourself. To draw a line before it was too late.

But as always, your heart betrayed you.

The faint sound of your breathing filled the room, shallow and uneven as you tapped her message. You opened the chat, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed the only thing you knew how to say to her.

"Yeah, I’ll be there."

The moment you hit send, the weight in your chest seemed to shift, but it didn’t lift. Instead, it settled deeper, anchoring itself to the realization you were too afraid to face: no matter how much it hurt, you couldn’t walk away. Not from her. Not yet.

-----

Lia greeted you at her apartment door with the same casual ease as always, dressed in a loose sweatshirt that hung just off one shoulder and shorts that left little to the imagination. Her hair was tied back loosely, and the faint scent of her lavender body lotion hung in the air as she stepped aside to let you in. She smiled, warm and familiar, but to you, it felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

“Hey,” she said softly, leaning casually against the doorframe. Her tone carried a cheerfulness that felt almost jarring compared to the turmoil swirling inside you. “Rough day?”

You swallowed hard, your thoughts tangled with the image of the article’s photos. The memory of her walking arm-in-arm with someone else clung to you like a shadow, an ache that wouldn’t loosen its grip. “Yeah,” you said finally, your voice flat. “Something like that.”

Her brows knitted slightly, a flicker of concern crossing her face before she masked it with another smile, softer this time. “Come in,” she said gently, stepping aside. “Let me fix you some tea or something.”

You followed her inside, the familiar warmth of her cozy apartment stirring something deep and painful within you. The dim lighting, the scent of jasmine mingling with lavender, the soft hum of a playlist you knew by heart—it should have felt comforting, but tonight it only made the ache worse. To her, everything seemed normal, unchanged. But to you, every gesture, every laugh, felt magnified, a sharp contrast to the images still burned into your mind.

She led you to the couch, her steps light and unbothered, her usual ease a stark reminder of how differently you were experiencing this moment. She sat close to you, her knee brushing against yours as she turned to face you fully. “You seem tense,” she said softly, her voice lowering into something soothing. Her hand rested lightly on yours, her touch simple yet disarming, as if she could sense the weight pressing down on you. “Let me help.”

You hesitated, the memory of her smile in those photos flashing through your mind. The warmth she had shown to someone else, the intimacy of it, felt like a stark contrast to the Lia sitting here with you now. Part of you wanted to pull back, to say something, to ask her what that meant, but the words wouldn’t come. Her touch, her presence—it was too much to resist, and before you could think better of it, her lips were on yours.

The kiss was familiar, practiced, but this time, it felt different. Your movements were slower, less certain. A part of you wanted to push her away, to demand answers, but the other part—the part of you that craved her touch, her presence—won. You kissed her back, the frustration and longing coiling tightly in your chest, fueling your every move.

Her hands slid beneath your shirt, tugging at it with the ease of someone who knew you too well. Your resolve crumbled under her touch, the confrontation slipping further from your mind. It could wait, you told yourself. For now, you let the emotions swirling within you—frustration, jealousy, and something darker—take over.

By the time you reached the bedroom, something inside you had shifted. The weight of your suppressed emotions guided your actions, a storm of unspoken feelings driving every touch, every motion. You turned her toward the bed, your hand firm on her shoulder as you eased her down to her knees.

Without a word, you unbuttoned your pants, the sound of the zipper cutting through the quiet room like a spark igniting the air. Lia’s eyes followed the motion, her gaze flicking downward before snapping back up to meet yours. Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before melting into something softer, almost eager. When you pressed yourself to her lips, her hesitation was brief. Her hands found their place on your thighs, steadying herself as she took you in.

The shift in her was immediate. This wasn’t like before—this wasn’t the usual playful or restrained dynamic between you. You gripped her hair firmly, the silky strands slipping through your fingers as you guided her movements. Lia’s soft, muffled moan against you sent a shiver down your spine, the vibration electrifying. The control you felt, the way she surrendered so willingly, was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but give in to the moment fully.

Your hips began to move, your thrusts deliberate but rough, each one pushing deeper as you set the rhythm. Lia’s hands tightened their grip on your thighs, her fingers curling slightly as her body swayed to match your motions. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and her breathing grew heavier between moments when you gave her just enough time to adjust. She looked up at you, her wide, watery eyes filled with surprise and a growing hunger. This wasn’t what she’d expected, but the way her body responded told you everything—this was what she wanted, what she craved.

Her moans grew louder, though muffled, as her lips and tongue worked in perfect sync with your movements. Her usual confidence had melted away, leaving behind a raw vulnerability that only fueled you further. This side of you—assertive, unrelenting—was something she hadn’t expected, and the way she gave herself over to it was driving you wild.

You tightened your grip on her hair, guiding her more firmly as her hands clutched at your thighs for balance. Her breathing was heavy, her moans blending with the wet, rhythmic sounds that filled the room. Tears began to streak her cheeks as her throat constricted around you, her body tensing slightly as she fought to keep up. Still, her eyes never left yours, wide and watery but filled with trust and unmistakable arousal.

Her muffled cries grew needier as your rhythm intensified, her nails digging into your thighs as her body trembled. The tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core, every sound she made pushing you closer to the edge. When her moan vibrated against you again, it sent you spiraling, your hips moving faster, rougher, with a desperation you couldn’t suppress.

You felt yourself reaching the breaking point, your control slipping entirely. Lia’s breathing hitched, her hands shifting to grip you tighter as you thrust one last time. Your release hit like a flood, overwhelming and unstoppable. A guttural groan tore from your throat as you came, the heat surging through you in waves. Lia’s body instinctively tensed beneath you. Her throat worked desperately, swallowing each hot pulse as it filled her mouth. Her gag reflex kicked in more than once, her soft, choked sounds blending with the wet, rhythmic movements that echoed in the room. Despite her efforts, some of it spilled from the corners of her lips, trickling down her chin in thin, glistening streams. Her hands gripped your thighs tighter, her nails pressing into your skin as she did her best to keep up, her flushed cheeks stained with tears and exertion.

Her breathing was uneven, her body trembling with the effort to take everything you gave her. When you finally pulled back, a string of fluid connected you briefly before breaking, her tongue darting out to clean her lips as she gasped for air. Lia’s eyes lifted to meet yours, glassy and dazed, her expression a mix of exhaustion, surprise, and something playful.

She wiped at her chin with the back of her hand, her lips curving into a faint, teasing smile. “Fuck that was hot,” she murmured hoarsely, her voice laced with mischief despite her breathlessness. “What's gotten into you?”

You didn’t respond, the fire in your chest still burning too hot for words. Instead, you leaned down slightly and tapped your member against her cheek a couple of times, the wet sound punctuating the charged silence. Lia blinked up at you, her flushed face lighting up with surprise, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

Without a word, you reached down, your hands finding hers as you pulled her to her feet in one smooth motion. She let out a soft, surprised laugh, stumbling slightly against your chest. Her body was still trembling, her knees unsteady from the intensity of what had just happened. She clung to you for balance, her breath brushing against your neck as she steadied herself.

Before she could add anything else, your hands moved to her sweatshirt, gripping the fabric at the hem. Her laughter faded into a small, knowing smile as she raised her arms without hesitation, letting you strip it off her in one smooth motion. The air between you felt charged, electric, as the garment fell to the floor.

Her shorts followed quickly, her own fingers fumbling with the waistband as though eager to match your urgency. The two of you moved in tandem, discarding every barrier until she stood before you, bare and breathtaking in the dim light. The soft glow illuminated every curve, every flushed detail of her skin, making her look impossibly beautiful.

You climbed onto the bed, hovering over Lia as she lay beneath you, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her body still trembling from the intensity of earlier. Without a word, you captured her lips in a bruising kiss, pouring all the frustration, anger, and sadness you’d been bottling up into the connection. Her soft moan was muffled against your mouth as she melted into you, her hands reaching up to grip your shoulders.

You didn’t stop there. Your lips trailed away from hers, moving down the curve of her jaw to her neck, where you nipped at her skin with sharp, deliberate bites. Lia gasped and squirmed beneath you, her body reacting instinctively to each sting of your teeth, her fingers clutching at you for balance. The sound of her soft whimpers drove you on, each one fueling the storm raging inside you.

Your hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as you moved lower, leaving a trail of heated kisses down to her collarbone. You didn’t hesitate to bite there too, hard enough to make her arch her back, her body pressing closer to you as though craving the sting. Her breaths grew quicker, her chest heaving as she writhed beneath your relentless attention.

Her squirming only pushed you further, your need to control, to channel the storm within you, manifesting in the way you held her down. One hand moved to her neck, wrapping around her throat in a firm, deliberate grip. Lia’s reaction was immediate—her body froze for a second, her breath catching, before her eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours. There was no fear in her gaze, only surprise and raw, unfiltered desire.

You didn’t pause, letting your other hand slide down her body, brushing over her stomach before reaching her folds. The heat and slickness there were undeniable, and it made you tighten your grip on her neck as your fingers teased her entrance. Lia gasped, her body jerking at the touch, her hands clutching at the sheets for balance as her hips instinctively pressed toward you.

You didn’t slow down, slipping two fingers inside her in one swift, deliberate motion. Her reaction was instant—a choked moan escaping her lips as her body arched against your hand, her thighs trembling uncontrollably. You tightened your grip on her neck, holding her firmly in place as you set a rough, relentless rhythm, each thrust of your fingers matching the intensity of your emotions.

Her breaths came in short, desperate gasps, her body completely at your mercy. You didn’t let up, your fingers curling inside her, hitting all the right spots as her moans grew louder. The way she reacted—the way her body writhed and her voice broke with every movement—pushed you further into the haze of emotion driving your every move.

Lia’s hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white as she clawed at the fabric, her head tilting back as her lips parted in a silent plea. Her hips began to shift, trying instinctively to pull away from the overwhelming sensations, but you didn’t give her the chance. Each time her body tried to escape, you followed her movement with ruthless precision, maintaining the relentless pace that left her gasping and trembling beneath you.

“Please,” she choked out, her voice cracking as her hips jerked sharply against your hand, torn between chasing the pleasure and trying to find relief from the intensity. Her thighs quivered as the wet, obscene sounds from her folds filled the room, mixing with her soft, desperate whimpers.

Your fingers thrust with relentless precision, plunging deeply while curling just enough to make Lia cry out with every motion. Her gasps turned into desperate, broken cries, the sound spilling from her lips in sharp, uneven bursts. The way her body tightened and arched against your hand drove you further, your thumb brushing over her clit—first in slow, deliberate circles, then pressing firmly and flicking sharply as her hips jolted against you.

The hand around her neck tightened slightly, your fingers pressing just enough to make her breath catch. The mix of pressure and roughness sent her spiraling, her voice breaking into a low, guttural moan as her eyes fluttered open briefly, wide and glassy, before rolling shut again. Her legs trembled uncontrollably, her entire body trembling as your thumb quickened its pace, alternating between firm, relentless circles and sharp, deliberate flicks that made her hips buck wildly.

Her thighs tried to clamp shut around your hand, her body instinctively attempting to shield itself from the overwhelming sensations, but you didn’t stop. Your pace only grew faster, harder, as though chasing something deeper. Her moans turned into broken cries, her hips jerking helplessly against your hand as you pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

The slick heat from her folds coated your fingers as her walls tightened around you, her body reacting to every motion. Her breath hitched, her cries becoming louder, more desperate. Her hips jerked erratically, trying to escape your relentless pace, but you didn’t let up. The grip on her neck tightened again, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her eyes snapped open for a moment, unfocused and dazed.

“God—” she managed to choke out, her voice breaking as her body convulsed. “I—can’t—”

Her body tensed beneath your touch, her breathing erratic as she teetered on the edge of release. Just as the moment was about to break, you pulled your fingers out abruptly and delivered a sharp smack to her folds. The sudden sting and shock sent a jolt through her entire body, her back arching violently off the bed as a strangled moan tore from her throat.

That was it. Lia shattered beneath you, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her thighs clamped around your hand, trapping you there as her cries turned raw and broken, each sound carrying the intensity of her release. Her body convulsed, trembling violently as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her. Her hands clutched at the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as her hips jerked uncontrollably, seeking and shying away from the overwhelming sensations.

You held her firmly, your grip on her neck steady, grounding her as your hand returned to her folds. Your fingers worked with deliberate precision, prolonging her climax as her cries grew louder, more desperate. Her hips bucked wildly against your hand, her body writhing beneath you as she gave in completely to the pleasure overtaking her.

Her release seemed endless, the intensity of it leaving her gasping for breath as her body quaked under your control. The room was filled with the sound of her broken moans and the rhythmic slap of your palm against her oversensitive lips. Each touch seemed to reignite the flames, drawing out her pleasure until her body collapsed back against the bed, trembling and spent.

As the aftershocks coursed through her, her breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her skin glistened in the dim light, her face flushed and damp as she tried to catch her breath.

You loosened your grip on her neck, your fingers brushing lightly against her skin as you leaned over her. Lia’s eyes fluttered open slowly, glassy and unfocused, her lips parting in a faint, breathless smile. Her body continued to tremble slightly, the lingering sensations leaving her utterly undone beneath you.

You guided Lia’s trembling, sensitive body onto the bed with deliberate intent, her flushed skin glistening as she struggled to catch her breath. Her wide, dazed eyes met yours, still hazy from the intensity of her previous climax, but you weren’t done—not yet. Slowly, you lay down and pulled her back against you, arranging her pliant body with steady hands.

Her back pressed firmly to your chest, her legs spread wide and bent at the knees, her thighs trembling as you slipped your hands beneath them. Your grip steadied her, your fingers curling securely around the back of her thighs, holding her legs in place and spreading her open. The position left her entirely vulnerable, every inch of her body on display. Her arms rested near her sides, loosely pinned between your bodies, emphasizing her complete surrender to you.

Her head tilted back against your shoulder, her neck fully exposed, giving you an unobstructed view of her flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the faint sheen of sweat that glistened on her skin. Lia let out a soft, breathless gasp as the new position registered, her body tensing briefly before relaxing into your hold.

The vulnerability of it, the way your grip anchored her while she was spread open, only seemed to heighten her arousal. “Where did you learn this?…” she murmured, her voice trailing off into a whimper as she felt you press against her entrance. The sensation made her hips shift instinctively, her body eager and trembling as she surrendered completely to the moment.

Without hesitation, you entered her in one deep, deliberate motion. The pace was fast and unrelenting from the start, your thrusts deep and purposeful as you held her firmly in place. Lia cried out, her voice breaking into a desperate moan as her body responded immediately. The position allowed you to reach depths you hadn’t before, and her body clenched tightly around you, the new sensation overwhelming her.

Her head tilted back against your shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut as she gave herself over to you completely. The sheer submissiveness of her posture, her willingness to let you take control, drove you on. You leaned down, your lips brushing the curve of her neck as you pressed open-mouthed kisses along her flushed skin, your teeth grazing lightly before biting down just enough to make her gasp.

Lia let out a trembling gasp as your hand found her clit again, circling it with a firm intensity that made her entire body jolt against you. Her thighs quivered uncontrollably, her hips writhing in an attempt to escape the relentless stimulation. “Wait—” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she tried to shift away from your touch. “I’m sensitive—too much…”

Her words barely registered, muffled by the storm in your mind. The frustration and anger churned like a relentless tide, the image of her smiling, her hand entwined with someone else’s, replaying in your head like a haunting refrain. It consumed you, fueling the roughness in every movement.

You tightened your hold, your hands locking her helplessly in place. Her legs trembled, trying to close against the overstimulation, but the position left her completely vulnerable. With her legs spread wide and pinned by her own weight, she had no leverage, no way to resist as you drove her higher. Her body squirmed, her hips shifting desperately, but your arm around her wrists and your thighs holding hers apart ensured she couldn’t escape.

You leaned in, pressing your lips to the back of her neck where you could reach, the soft curve of her skin damp with sweat. The kiss was possessive, claiming, and when you bit down, she let out a sharp cry, her body arching against yours. The sting of your teeth sent a fresh wave of shivers through her, her voice breaking into a soft whimper as you soothed the bite with another heated kiss.

Lia’s body trembled, her reactions raw and desperate. Each time you bit down, harder now, her cries grew louder, her head tilting back to expose more of her neck as though surrendering completely. Her thighs tried to press together again, but the position made it impossible, leaving her entirely at your mercy.

Her pleas melted into choked moans when your hand left her clit briefly, only to return with a sharp slap. The sound echoed in the room, followed by her broken cry as her body jolted against you. The sting sent her closer to the edge, her breath hitching in ragged gasps as her hips jerked involuntarily.

The relentless combination—the deep, fast thrusts, the circling of your fingers on her clit, and the sharp bites you pressed to her shoulder and neck—pushed her further into a haze of overwhelming sensation. Her cries grew louder, her body trembling violently as she fought against the intensity. Even as her hips shifted and tried to twist away, her body betrayed her with every shiver of arousal, her movements weak and yielding to your pace.

Just as her body tensed in anticipation of release, you pressed harder against her clit, your fingers moving in swift, relentless circles. Lia gasped, her walls clenching tightly around you as her entire body strained, her climax teetering on the brink.

When you sensed she was at her limit, you delivered a sharp, deliberate slap to her clit. Lia screamed, her voice raw and broken as her body convulsed violently. The sharp sting mingled with the overwhelming pleasure, the combination tearing through her with a force that left her trembling uncontrollably. Her thighs twitched against your hands, her chest heaving as she sobbed softly, her cries a mix of pleasure and surrender.

You didn’t stop, your fingers continuing to flick and slap her nub while your thrusts maintained their relentless pace. Her body collapsed further against yours, her legs trembling as the overstimulation sent her spiraling beyond her limits. Another broken scream tore from her throat before her body finally gave out, her muscles going slack as she slumped back onto you, her head falling onto your shoulder.

Her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, her body trembling as aftershocks coursed through her. You released her wrists, your hands smoothing over her legs as you pressed soft kisses to her temple and along the marks your teeth had left on her shoulder. Her breathing gradually steadied, her skin still flushed and damp as she tried to catch her breath.

Your pace didn’t falter, even as Lia slumped further against you, her body trembling and utterly spent. The overstimulation of her climax had left her broken in the best way, her cries now soft whimpers, her breath hot and uneven against your neck. Her legs remained pinned, trembling as your relentless thrusts sent aftershocks rippling through her. Each deep motion made her body react instinctively, her hips twitching as though trying to pull away, but the position left her helpless, completely at your mercy.

As the intensity built, her breaths grew sharper, her head tilting back against your shoulder. The haze of her earlier release lingered in her glassy eyes, her thoughts slow and unfocused. Yet, as your thrusts grew faster and more erratic, realization flickered faintly in her expression. She gasped softly, her thighs twitching against your hold.

“Wait…” she murmured, her voice trembling and breathless, her mind catching up to what her body already knew. “Don’t… don’t cum inside me,” she pleaded, her tone cracking under the weight of her exhaustion and arousal.

Her words were faint, almost drowned out by the rhythmic sound of your hips meeting hers. Her protest lacked strength, her body betraying her as her warmth clenched tightly around you, pulling you deeper with every motion. Even as she tried to speak again, her words dissolved into soft, broken whimpers, her thighs trembling violently as her overstimulated body refused to resist what was coming.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter, the edge drawing closer with every thrust. Her whispered plea echoed faintly in your mind, but the overwhelming heat, the way she writhed beneath you, the way her body pulled you in, made it impossible to stop. The last thread of your restraint snapped as her walls tightened around you one final time.

“Fuck…” you murmured hoarsely, your voice trembling with the urgency of your release. Her body stiffened briefly, her lips parting in a faint gasp of realization, but she couldn’t move, her legs pinned wide and her body limp in your hold.

With a guttural groan, you pressed as deep as you could, your release surging into her in powerful, shuddering waves. Lia’s breath hitched sharply, her fingers weakly clutching at your arms as she felt the warmth spreading inside her. “Oh my God…” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her head fell forward, her body twitching in response to the unfamiliar sensation. The flush on her cheeks deepened, a mix of disbelief and something unspoken as she lay trembling against you.

When the last tremors subsided, you loosened your grip slightly, your hands smoothing over her legs as they remained draped across your hips. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of your mingled breathing, heavy with the weight of what had just happened.

Lia’s voice came out as a whisper, trembling with exhaustion but edged with frustration. “Too much… it was too much…” Her body twitched beneath you, her trembling legs sprawled limply against your hips. Her chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, her gaze hazy but laced with something sharper as she tried to steady herself.

Then her eyes locked onto yours, and the flush on her cheeks deepened, no longer just from exertion. “I can’t believe you came inside me,” she muttered, her voice low but biting. “You know we can’t do that.”

Her words cut through the heavy air, and for a moment, her expression hardened as she tried to assert control over the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you. But the tension in her brows faltered as her body gave a faint, involuntary shudder, the lingering sensation of everything pooling inside her impossible to ignore.

She shifted slightly in your hold, her thighs twitching, her skin hypersensitive and her mind torn between anger and something much more confusing. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say more, to reprimand you further, but no words came. Instead, she turned her head to the side, her expression tight, though not entirely resolute.

Inside, you could tell she was battling herself. The heat spreading across her neck and cheeks, the way her legs trembled against yours, betrayed a truth she didn’t want to face. Even though she was angry—she had every reason to be—the intensity of what had happened, the rawness of being completely at your mercy, lingered in ways she couldn’t deny.

Lia let out a sharp exhale, her body relaxing slightly against you as her anger seemed to ebb, replaced by a reluctant acceptance. Her head fell back onto the pillow, her breathing still uneven, her lips pressing together in a faint line. The silence between you was heavy, her internal conflict palpable, as the reality of the moment settled over both of you.

Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the air between you was filled with something unspoken, a tenderness that lingered even as exhaustion pulled at you both.

“Jisu,” you said suddenly, the word breaking the silence like a crack of thunder.

She turned onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you. “Hmm?”

“Can this ever be more?” The question came out unsteady, raw with emotion, as though it had torn its way out of you.

Her smile faded, replaced by something gentler but distant. She sighed softly, the blanket slipping slightly as she shifted to sit up. “We’ve talked about this,” she said, her tone careful but firm. “The reason this works is because it’s casual. It’s… uncomplicated. That’s why it’s good.”

You turned your head to look at her, searching her expression for something—anything—that might suggest she felt the same way you did. But all you saw was a calm resolve. “You’re great,” she continued, her voice quieter now. “You really are. But if we start complicating things, it’ll ruin what we have, could you imagine even trying to do this while one of us has feelings.”

Her words struck you like a punch, each one cutting deeper than the last. You forced a small, hollow smile, nodding as if you understood. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “You’re right…”

Lia’s hand brushed over your arm lightly, reassuringly, before she lay back down beside you, curling into your side as though nothing had happened. But something had. For you, the illusion that this could be enough had shattered, and no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself otherwise, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of the end.

As Lia slept peacefully beside you, you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. You couldn’t keep doing this—not when your feelings for her only grew stronger with each passing day, and not when she had made it clear she would never see you the way you saw her.

You slipped out of her bed quietly, careful not to wake her. The city lights outside her window cast long shadows across the room as you let out a soft apology,dressed and left. You told yourself that it would be the last time, that you couldn’t go back—not for her, not for anyone. You needed to find someone who would value you, who would want you the way you wanted them.

-----

The next morning, Lia woke up alone, sunlight filtering softly through her curtains as the warmth of the day began to creep into the room. She stirred slowly, her body aching in unfamiliar ways—her neck, her thighs, her core—all reminders of the intensity of the night before. She shifted slightly, wincing at the tenderness, and as the memories flooded back, her cheeks flushed with heat. The rawness of how you had been with her, the way you had consumed her so completely, lingered in her mind, each thought sending a fresh wave of warmth coursing through her.

Reaching for her phone, she hesitated for a moment, her fingers hovering over the screen. After a deep breath, she typed a quick message: “Last night was amazing. Thank you.”

She hit send, expecting the usual quick reply. You were always good at responding, rarely making her wait more than a few minutes. It was one of the constants she had come to rely on—your availability, your attentiveness. But as the minutes stretched into hours, her screen remaining frustratingly blank, she shrugged it off. You’re probably just busy, she told herself, though a faint unease began to creep into her thoughts, like a whisper she couldn’t ignore.

Life moved forward, as it always did, her schedule swallowing her days whole. But the unease grew, a quiet nagging in the back of her mind that wouldn’t go away. Still no reply. No follow-up. No late-night texts asking about her day or teasing her about something silly. It was unlike you, and with every passing day, it became harder to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Desperate for distraction, she agreed to another date with the idol, convincing herself it was the right thing to do. But from the moment they sat down at the trendy café, everything about the evening felt wrong. The vibrant chatter of the other patrons blurred into background noise, his words barely registering as she stared down at her phone, her thumb hovering over the unanswered message. It sat there, unopened, like a stark reminder of your absence.

He tried to make conversation, asking about her work and cracking lighthearted jokes, but her responses were flat, distracted. Her mind kept drifting—back to you. She could almost hear your laugh, picture the way you would have teased her about spending too much time scrolling on her phone. She thought about the little things you did, the gestures that had woven themselves into her daily life: bringing her food after late practices, the way you always seemed to know when she needed comforting, and the talks that stretched into the early hours of the morning when her world felt too heavy.

Her chest tightened as she realized it wasn’t just about the sex anymore—though that had been incredible. It was everything else, the way you had quietly become her anchor without her noticing. She missed you, in ways that went beyond physical, in ways she couldn’t ignore.

As the date dragged on, her unease grew heavier. She looked at him across the table, saw the effort he was putting into keeping her attention, and felt the guilt creep in. He wasn’t the problem. He was polite, charming even, but he wasn’t you. He didn’t make her feel grounded the way you did. He didn’t know her tells, didn’t know how to navigate her quiet moods or the way her smiles didn’t always reach her eyes.

She excused herself earlier than planned, her heart heavy as she walked out into the cool night air. Her fingers hovered over her phone again, the thought of calling you overwhelming her. But as she stared at your name in her contacts, she couldn’t bring herself to press it. Not yet.

Days turned into a week, and Lia’s desperation grew. Every thought of you tightened the ache in her chest, the longing building until it was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just about the intimacy anymore—it was everything else. The little moments, the times you made her feel understood, cared for, seen. The absence of those moments was suffocating.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside her was shifting. Something she hadn’t wanted to see before but now couldn’t deny. You weren’t just her escape, her comfort—you had become something so much more. Finally, she turned to someone she trusted: Yeji.

The three of you had always been close, bonded not just by your ages but by a shared sense of humor and camaraderie. After practice one evening, Lia found Yeji in the lounge, scrolling through her phone. Her heart pounded as she sat down across from her, working up the courage to speak.

“Yeji,” Lia began, her voice quieter than usual as she fidgeted with the edge of her hoodie.

Yeji glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

Lia hesitated, her usual confidence replaced by uncertainty. “You know about… my arrangement, right?”

Yeji set her phone down, her gaze sharpening slightly. “Oh, yeah,” she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. “I know about it.”

Lia’s fingers twisted the fabric of her hoodie, her nerves fraying. “Have you… talked to him lately? Do you know where he is?”

Yeji’s expression softened, the teasing fading as she leaned back against the couch. “Yeah, we’ve talked,” she admitted, her voice even. “But I don’t think I should tell you more than that.”

The words hit Lia harder than she expected. Her stomach twisted, and her voice dropped. “Why not?” she asked, almost pleading. “I just… I miss him. I didn’t think I would, but I do. I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until he wasn’t there anymore.”

Yeji sighed, studying her closely. “Lia, you have to ask yourself why he’s not here right now,” she said, her voice steady but not unkind. “You had to know how he felt—maybe you didn’t want to admit it, but it was obvious.”

Lia looked down, her throat tightening as Yeji’s words sank in. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she murmured. “I just… I didn’t know.”

Yeji leaned forward slightly, her voice softer now. “I think he needed space, Lia. He couldn’t keep pretending to be okay with what you two had. And now? I think you’re realizing how much he really means to you.”

Lia’s fingers curled tightly around her hoodie, her heart sinking further. “I miss him,” she said quietly. “Not just… what we had. I miss everything. I don’t know what to do.”

Yeji shook her head gently. “I’m not going to tell you where he is—it wouldn’t be fair. But if you feel this way, you need to figure it out before it’s too late.”

Lia nodded slowly, Yeji’s words settling heavily in her chest. For the next few days, she replayed every moment in her mind—every late-night talk, every thoughtful gesture, every quiet look that made her feel safe. The realization of how much she missed you, how deeply she cared, grew sharper with each passing day.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Lia grabbed her phone with trembling hands and called. The first call went to voicemail, then the next, and the one after that. Still, she didn’t stop. Each unanswered ring only heightened her desperation. She began texting, her messages growing shorter and more frantic with each passing hour.

“I need to talk to you.”“Please, can you call me back?”“Just… say something.”

When the texts went unanswered, she left voicemails, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “I… I really want to talk. Please, can we meet? Just let me know.” Every message sounded more raw than the last, the silence on the other end of the line gnawing at her chest like an open wound.

She lost count of how many times she called—her phone logs a mess of missed attempts, her inbox filled with drafts of unsent messages she couldn’t bring herself to delete. Each night, she lay awake, staring at her phone, willing it to light up with your name. The waiting was unbearable, each moment stretching endlessly as hope began to waver.

Just when she was on the verge of giving up, her phone buzzed. Her heart skipped a beat, and she scrambled to pick it up. It was you. A simple message: “Okay. Let’s meet.”

Relief and apprehension washed over her in equal measure. She stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure how to respond. After a long pause, she simply typed, “Thank you.”

-----

When you finally met, the air was heavy with tension, every unspoken word between you settling like a weight in the small café. Lia sat across from you, her usual poise stripped away. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, twisting the edge of her sleeve, her eyes fixed on the untouched coffee in front of her. The faintest hint of color rose in her cheeks, betraying the vulnerability she was trying to hide.

You watched her carefully, your own nerves coiling tighter with every second of silence. Her lips parted slightly, as though she wanted to speak, but the words didn’t come right away. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked up at you.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling but steady enough to hold your gaze. “For everything. For not seeing how you felt, for taking you for granted.”

Her words caught you off guard, the raw honesty cutting through the tension. You blinked, unsure how to respond at first. “I should be the one apologizing,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter than you intended. “For ghosting you, for catching feelings in the first place. I—”

“Don’t,” Lia interrupted gently, her voice firm but laced with regret. Her eyes finally met yours, and the warmth there made your chest ache. “Don’t apologize for liking me. Please. I need to say something first.”

You froze, her words silencing the flood of guilt that had been building inside you. She fidgeted with her sleeve, her gaze flickering downward for a moment before she looked back at you, her expression unguarded.

“I like you,” she said softly, the words landing with a weight that made your breath catch. “So much. I think I have for a while, but I didn’t know… or maybe I just didn’t let myself realize it. I got so comfortable with you always being there, and when you were gone, it felt like a piece of me was missing.”

Her cheeks flushed deeper, and her hands stilled as she continued, her voice trembling but resolute. “I thought keeping things casual was easier—safer—because I didn’t want to risk losing you. But I was selfish. I didn’t think about what you needed or how much it might be hurting you.

Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t stop. “I’m so sorry for everything. For not being considerate of your feelings, for pushing you away when you tried to tell me how you felt. You deserved more than that—more than I gave you—and it kills me that I hurt you because I was too scared to be honest.”

Her words tumbled out in a rush, raw and vulnerable. She took another breath, her eyes glistening as she looked at you, waiting. “Do you still…” she began, her voice quieter now, hesitant. “Do you still like me? Because if you do… I promise I’ll be better. I’ll try harder. I won’t take you for granted again.”

The question hung in the air, heavy and trembling with sincerity. You stared at her, the tight ache in your chest threatening to spill over. The vulnerability in her eyes, the way her fingers nervously twisted at her sleeve, the unsteady rise and fall of her breath—it was Lia, stripped of all pretense, offering herself to you in a way she never had before.

“I miss you,” you said, your voice thick with emotion, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “More than I can even say. And yes, Lia, I still like you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”

Her lips parted slightly, her eyes widening as relief and hope washed over her face. A small, trembling smile broke through her uncertainty, and she reached across the table, her hand brushing yours. You didn’t hesitate, your fingers curling around hers as the tension between you seemed to dissolve, replaced by a quiet, tentative warmth.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you heavy but no longer with tension—this time, it was full of possibility. Lia’s fingers tightened slightly around yours, her gaze searching your face as though she was committing this moment to memory. Then, softly, she asked, “Can I… kiss you?”

Her voice was quiet, almost shy, a stark contrast to the confident Lia you had always known. You felt your breath hitch, the question catching you off guard even though you knew the answer. You nodded, unable to form words, and her lips twitched into a faint, nervous smile.

When she leaned forward, the world around you seemed to still. The noise of the café, the clinking of dishes, the hum of conversations—it all faded as her face came closer, her hand still firmly in yours. The first brush of her lips against yours was tentative, testing, but the moment they met, something shifted.

This kiss wasn’t like the others. You’d kissed Lia before—passionate, heated, messy kisses in the haze of your arrangement. But this? This was entirely different. This kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t fueled by lust or need. It was soft, deliberate, full of emotion you hadn’t allowed yourself to name before. It felt like kissing her for the first time, like discovering something new, something sacred.

Her lips were warm and inviting, moving against yours with a tenderness that sent shivers through you. There was no urgency, no pretense, just the quiet connection between you as the kiss deepened, your free hand instinctively reaching up to cradle her cheek. She leaned into your touch, her fingers threading lightly through your hair as she let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing into the moment.

For Lia, the kiss was no less transformative. She’d kissed you countless times before, but this—this felt like peeling away every wall she’d built, every mask she’d worn. This was the kiss she hadn’t let herself imagine, the kiss she hadn’t realized she needed until now. It wasn’t just the physical connection—it was the way your hand trembled slightly as you cupped her cheek, the way you held her like she was the most important thing in the world.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as your eyes met. Her lips were parted, her cheeks flushed, her gaze full of something you couldn’t quite describe but felt deep in your chest. You could see it reflected back at you: this wasn’t just a kiss. This was everything.

“That…” Lia murmured softly, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words, her fingers brushing against your jaw. “That felt… different.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice low and raw with emotion. “It did.”

Neither of you moved to pull away, the space between you too fragile, too precious to break. For the first time, it felt like you were both on the same page, and the weight of everything that had come before fell away, leaving only the warmth of this moment.

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt less heavy, more open—like the air between you had shifted, lighter somehow. You cleared your throat, your fingers drumming lightly against the edge of the table as you searched for the right words, your heartbeat quickening with each passing second. “So, um…” you began, awkwardness thick in your voice as your eyes darted away from hers. “If you’re free later… I mean, after this—if you want, we could, I don’t know, grab dinner or something?”

Lia tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile that widened just enough to let you know she understood exactly what you were trying to say. Her cheeks flushed faintly, the color rising against her soft complexion. “Are you asking me out?” she teased lightly, her tone warm, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you tried to play it cool. “Maybe. I mean… yeah, I guess I am.”

Her smile softened into something more genuine, more tender. “I’d like that,” she said quietly, her voice carrying just the right hint of sincerity to make your chest feel lighter. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

The relief that washed over you was palpable, and without a second thought, you stood, holding out your hand. Lia’s gaze flicked down to your outstretched fingers, hesitation flickering for only a moment before she reached out and took your hand, her fingers curling around yours in a gesture that felt at once familiar and entirely new. Her touch sent a warmth through you, steadying your nerves as the tension between you eased further.

As you walked out of the café together, her hand warm in yours, the world around you seemed to blur into insignificance. The usual noise of the city streets—honking cars, chatter from passersby—faded into the background as the two of you fell into an easy rhythm. Lia’s steps matched yours, her shoulder occasionally brushing against your arm, and every now and then, you glanced at her. Her soft smile, illuminated by the golden glow of the streetlights, carried a quiet promise that made your heart ache in the best way.

You gave her hand a gentle squeeze, testing the waters, and she looked up at you, her eyes bright with a mixture of shyness and excitement. The small action spoke louder than words, her slight squeeze in return confirming what you both already knew: this wasn’t just two friends reconnecting. This was something new, something fragile yet full of possibility.

By the time you reached the restaurant, the hesitation you’d felt earlier had all but melted away. The hum of the city was a distant backdrop as you opened the door for her, gesturing for her to enter first. She smiled, murmuring a quiet “thank you” as she stepped inside, her gaze lingering on yours for just a beat longer than necessary.

Inside, the warm, inviting glow of the restaurant felt like an extension of the moment you were sharing. As you sat down, the conversation flowed more easily, the earlier tension giving way to lighthearted laughter and comfortable silences that spoke of a connection neither of you could deny. And as you watched her, her smile radiant and her eyes sparkling across the table, you knew without a doubt: this wasn’t just a return to what you had before. This was the beginning of something real.

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russellsppttemplates · 1 year ago

Text

It is what it is (Lando Norris)

It takes Lando a while to notice how you always assume he has something else to do whenever you need his help

Note: english is not my first language. It's slightly angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ is this good, is this bad? I'm not too sure

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

my masterlist

Cw: alludes to the lack of quality time between a couple

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Look at you, beautiful girl", Lando twirled you as he stepped inside your bedroom, noticing you were getting ready, "are you going somewhere?".

"Yes, I have an appointment at my optometrist", you smiled, "Anna should be here soon to take me".

"Is it a joint appointment?", Lando squinted.

"No, you muppet", you giggled, "my optometrist needs some exams on my eyes, so I have to today because that's when the ophthalmologist is there and they recommended that I had someone take me there because they want to dilate my pupils and, depending on how it goes, my sight might be a little affected for a couple of hours", you offered, making sure you had everything you needed to take.

"You could've told me and I would've taken you", Lando added, accepting the kiss you placed on his lips.

"I thought you had a meeting this afternoon", you reasoned.

"I do, but I could have moved that around a little and fit everything into the schedule", he reasoned back.

"It's okay, don't worry about that", you mused, "That's Anna - bye, handsome!", you kissed his lips one last time before making your way out and downstairs to meet your friend.

The ride to the office wasn't long, you and Anna taking the time to catch up and learn about the new gossips she had to update on you.

"And how's Lando? I haven't seen him in a while", Anna stated after you sat in the empty waiting room waiting to be called.

"He's been busy lately - he has a meeting today with the team, they're also launching a new collection for Quadrant and they're investing a lot in the social media content, so he's been busy recording a lot of videos and stuff", you offered, never shy whenever it came to talk proudly about your boyfriend's achievements, "and we're also on the countdown for the season to begin, so there's training and meetings and all that".

"Sounds like a busy schedule, no wonder why I haven't seen him - I'm surprised you even see him at all", she joked, grabbing her phone once she remembered she had something to show you.

You were surprised yourself at every bit of time you were able to spend with Lando, as lately it had become near impossible to do so apart from sleeping in the same bed, and even that was rare as he was often travelling between Monaco and England on a weekly basis.

"Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?", the doctor called you before you stepped inside the exam room, starting with the procedures.

The check up itself didn't take long despite the twenty five minute wait for the drops to dilate your pupils, "Don't forget your sunglasses, Y/N!", the secretary reminded you before you stepped outside.

"Thank you, have a good afternoon", you smiled before tapping Anna's shoulder, "Give me your arm so I won't trip", you mumbled.

"Is your sight that bad? The doctor said it should be good enough", Anna worried as she was about to open the door.

"No, it's fine, but if I'm clumsy on any good day, imagine how probable it is for me to fall on some stupid step or raised cobblestone", you argued as you both chuckled, making your way to her car.

Before you went home, your friend stopped by the pharmacy to get you the relief eye drops you'd have to follow the medication regimen with for the next few days, stopping by your favourite bakery so you could enjoy some sweet pastries.

"Can you even read these prescriptions?", Anna asked as she read the regimen you had to comply with.

"Stop making fun of me, you say that as if I'm almost blind", you swatted her arm before reading - trying to - the words, "fucking hell, am I?".

"I can barely read them myself, Y/N! They're so tiny I don't know how they give these to eye patients! Is Lando going to be home soon? That way he can help you with this", she suggested.

"Can I even see the time? At least that", you mumbled as you looked at the large numbers on your phone, "he'll probably take a while still - I can set the alarms on my phone and I'll memorise the different drops", you tapped your head.

Once it was all settled and you assured Anna she was fine to go home and you'd be perfectly well on your own, you walked her to the door before going back to the living room as the sun was no longer shinning outside and you could lay down on the sofa.

The nap you were taking was cut short by the door being shut, making you rub your forehead before an alarm rang. Getting up to head to the bathroom where you kept the supplies, you found Lando taking his trainers off.

"Hi baby, how was your appointment?", he asked as he put the footwear away.

"It was good, need to go and apply my drops", you smiled, turning the light on and grabbing the right box of medication.

"Is that what the alarm was for? I thought we had gotten a new security system I was not aware of", Lando joked as he watched you wash your hands.

"Yes, these instructions are so small to read that Anna thought it would be best to have alarms so I wouldn't mess it up since it's still a little bit blurry", you mused.

"Do you want me to do it?", Lando offered.

"No, it's fine - I'll have to do this for the next 48 hours anyway, so I might as well get used to it", you stopped talking so you could apply them, almost holding your breath until the drops fell.

"My lovie", Lando whispered on your ear once he felt it was okay to approach you, hugging your mid section from behind and kissing your neck as you put your hands on top of his.

You were adding the finishing touches on the present wrapping, the shiny gold string fiddling between your fingers as you tried to tie a bow with it around the paper bag handle, when Lando stepped inside your home office.

"That's looking pretty", he mused as he handed you the tape you were looking for on your desk.

"Thank you", you offered before placing the sticky piece down, "the bag is quite plain and even though the present inside is what will get her attention, it should come in nice wrapping".

"Who is this for?", Lando asked.

"It's for Maya's birthday tonight", you smiled, admiring your work.

"Is that tonight? Fuck, this week has flown by", Lando cursed, "I can't make it - will you let her know, please? I'm sorry I can't go", Lando pouted, "if she has to pay for having made the reservation with me in it, let me know and I'll pay my part!".

"I had already told her I'd be going alone, so she made my reservation without a plus one", you mused, remembering the conversation that came around the time of booking the venue.

Lando was leaving late in the afternoon for a trip with Max, Ria and some of the Quadrant athletes, so like you predicted, he couldn't attend the dinner with you.

"Oh", Lando offered.

"Max told me about your plans and when Maya told me the date, I assumed you wouldn't be able to go", you explained with a tinge of sadness and conformity in your voice.

"Well, it seems you guessed right", Lando chuckled despite the uneasy feeling on his chest.

You seemed sad that he wouldn't be able to join you, but at the same time you didn't? Lando put the topic at the back of his mind for now, heading to the bedroom so he could pack the last minute things.

"I was thinking of wearing this dress", you said once you joined him inside a while later, taking the steamer out of your drawer and setting it up to get out any kinks and wrinkles.

"That one is one of my favourites on you, but then again, they all are, I think", Lando mused, kissing your cheek as you waited for the steamer to be up for use.

"Figured it would be a little cold out tonight, so I chose this one, and that coat over there", you pointed.

"You'll be the most beautiful in that room", your boyfriend complimented, pecking your lips before he let you continue your task.

A couple hours later, Lando found himself restless as he scrolled through the posts and stories of Maya's birthday dinner, "Ria", he called, "what would you think if your partner made plans without you because they figured you wouldn't be able to go anyway?".

Ria exchanged a look with Max and Tara before she spoke, "did they ask me if I could go?", she offered.

"They didn't, but truth be told it's not like you have given them much to believe that you could join them", Lando mumbled the last part.

"I think I'd be a more 'it is what it is' at the start if I saw that it was something out of their reach, but I'm not sure I'd put up with it if it was genuine disinterest from them", Ria explained.

"It's not disinterest! They're just busy and shit at organising their schedules", Lando groaned defensively.

"Okay, okay", Ria calmed the room down once Max squinted his eyes at his bestfriend, "then I guess they would have to make sure they do better", she shrugged, "is everything alright?".

"Yes, yes, sorry for snapping just then", Lando offered her a tight lipped smile.

Everyone carried on with what they were doing before the existencial question, Max seemingly as stuck on it as Lando, "is this an hypothetical thing or are we calling people by their names and working this out?", he whispered to Lando.

"It's fine, just a loose thought I had there", Lando grumbled.

Lina 🤎

Hi, Y/N!

You won't bother, don't worry - I think I miss having someone other than my boyfriend to talk to 😅

Would it be okay if you visited in the afternoon? Our morning routine is still a shitshow (literally and figuratively), so we would appreciate it if you came after her first nap, around two pm?

One of Lando's older couple friends had a baby a couple of weeks ago, and while you were dying to meet their baby boy as soon as he came earthside, you were respectful of their adjustment period so you waited for them to be up for visitors and were ready to comply with whatever schedule they offered.

"It smells nice in here", Lando commented as he stepped inside the kitchen, "what delicious food are you making and can I please have a bite?".

"I made a little tray for us, but the big one is to take for Lina and Theo - I can imagine they don't have much time for cooking, so food is welcomed by them", you smiled, setting the cheese grater down once the measurements were like the recipe stated.

"Are you going to visit today? I have some streaming with Max scheduled for this afternoon", Lando added.

"Lina told me that this afternoon was the only time they could handle some visits - you know how it is with new parents and newborns and all of that -, I didn't want to change their schedule when I have some flexibility with my schedule", you explained, "I'll give the little one a big kiss from you, then?".

"Well, in that case, I should give you two big kisses then - one for you", he kissed your lips once, "and then this one for the little one", he smiled before kissing you again.

You shared lunch in a semi comfortable silence, Lando telling you a bit about the stream they would be doing and you sharing some work updates from your end.

When Lando gets a text in the middle of watching Max send his virtual car to the curb, "who might that be that's brought such a big smile to your face?".

Lando checked the photo to make sure the baby's face was covered despite his friends having already posted him, tuning the phone to show the camera, "Y/N met our friends' baby boy for the first time", Lando gushed.

"That's the little nugget", Max cooed, "she looks very happy with a baby on her arms", he wiggled his eyebrows, "have you met him already?".

"No, I haven't yet! She could only go this afternoon and we had this so...", Lando tsked, admiring the picture one last time before setting the phone back down. The baby was perfectly nestled on your arms, hiding his face on your chest as you looked down at him with a big smile on your face.

Now that he thought about he, he hadn't seen such a big smile in quite some time, and he was really starting to believe he was the reason behind it. He was absent, more than usual and more than the standards of your relationship considering his job.

The air had shifted around you once you came back from meeting Lina's little boy and Lando could only pinpoint it to the subject he thought about earlier.

"Lan, did you hear what I said?", you asked as you showed him another picture of you touching your noise in the little boy's.

"It's just... are we okay, baby?", Lando questioned. Even though it seemed like he was the only one that felt there was something wrong - different at least -, surely you had noticed it too.

"What makes you say that?", you asked.

From the serious tone, your boyfriend mentally slapped himself. Whatever it was, he was on the wrong and you had indeed noticed it too.

"I've noticed you don't ask me for help with stuff like driving you somewhere or accompanying you to places, which is fine if you want to do things on your own, I'm not saying you can't have your own independence, you know I'm not controlling you in that way - obviously! Fuck, I'm rambling! What I mean is, I have been taking notice that you just assume that I'm not available, and your assumptions are not unfounded, and it makes you sad, and I myself am upset that it has reached this point", Lando stated.

"It's not great, I can tell you that, but we knew it would be like this, your schedule is not the regular nine to five - it is what it is, Lan", you argued.

"But it's not, not all the time anyway! I want you to know you can always count on me!", Lando stated, "Y/N, you are one of my priorities and I never want to let you down - I'm going to make sure that from now on I spend more time with you and that I'm by your side a lot more", he rubbed your palm, "damn, I was so stupid, I'm sorry, lovie".

"Lando, these things happen", you attempted, "now we can work on it".

"You can count on me for little and big things in life - you need to go to the post office? I'm there helping you put the letter in the box. Dinner with your friends? I'll find it in the schedule to go and I don't care who I have to tell no to!", he pointed his finger, "I never ever want you to feel like you don't belong in my life or like I don't want to be involved in yours, Y/N - I'm so so so sorry that it took me so long to notice it".

"It's in the past", you smiled, pecking his lips softly, "now, look at this cute little nugget, he's so cute, we have to go there another day so you can meet him, and I think Theo won't mind another traybake".

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 fluff

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katiascraft · 8 months ago

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"This is how you fall in love" | OP81

parings: Oscar Piastri x Reader.

Summary: Oscar is truly, madly, deeply in love with you.

Now playing: "this is how you fall in love" by Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler.

Word count: +1,2k

Warnings: I think none just pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many errors). I do what I can. Not proofread.

Authors note: hey I don’t even know if this is good - I really hope it is - but I needed to write about Oscar SO BAD. (Btw is Yale in New York? Forgot to look it up). Update: I changed it. Yale it’s no even near to NYC 🤣 I’m a mess. Don’t forget to comment, like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

It was a sunny morning in Monaco. The quiet of the city could still be appreciated. You were asleep on the bed you shared with Oscar. It was your first night here since you haven’t seen each for the last time about 1 month or maybe almost 2. Time is a difficult thing to be aware of with his schedule to be honest.

Both of you had really busy lifestyles yet managed to build this relationship. Mostly it was a long distance relationship. He was traveling and working the whole year. And you were a student at Ivy Columbia University in New York City. As students it was difficult to find a gap between your exam and classes that fitted the races. You tried your best to always be there for him. Even if it was through the phone after the race. And for him that was really considerate.

You didn’t even have time to breathe when it was exams season yet you still find time to call and check on him. He knows it’s an obvious thing you’re supposed to do with people you love. But still he really appreciates it.

He was so happy and grateful you were finally together. Because you don’t see each other that often - every moment you spend together it’s so intense and pure magic. You do everything you could think of before saying goodbye again and part ways. It was the hardest part of your relationship. You said goodbye to each other so many times it anxiety breaking. He just never could get enough from you, from being with you. He has never felt this way about anyone and the fact that it’s been 4 years of being side by side it was crazy to him. How he would never get bored of you. You were always so intriguing, unpredictable, witty. You were the opposite when it came to what others could see. But behind close doors in your little magical and full of love world - you two matched each other's crazy perfectly.

Oscar is an introvert and really shy when it comes to interactions with people, always feeling nervous and so polite. You were always loud and could talk even with a wall if you wanted to. Always the life of the party so extroverted. You were the opposite but the same in a way. You would get so shy around him giggling like the teenager you were since you two met. And he could be the best at flirting and teasing around you. You made him feel so comfortable in his own skin and he just got loose and relaxed. Could be the real him with you. And just for you.

In your little beautiful world you wouldn’t stop talking about everything and anything. Joking around and teasing each other just to end up having sex in the living room. The chemistry between you two was unmatched. Behind your four walls he was the most confident man and you were as well. Bringing the best of each other out. Just for the other one. You were sexy, fierce, not afraid of anything. He made you feel even powerful.the way he always uplift you when you needed him the most and the fact that you could be so vulnerable knowing he won’t judge. He never did. He knew the real you and embraced it. His love changed you so much. He is the best thing that ever happened to you. And you were his. Oscar with you was kind of another person. It was him of course but intensified. Open and free. You gave him that space, that safety. And he adored you so much for that. Being himself it’s something he struggles with most of the time. Shying away. But with you by his side he could be the life of the party too.

He loved watching you study so concentrated. He would join you in silence, maybe by reading a book, or preparing your favorite tea in moral support. Or he would just sit in silence admiring you. How the sun would reflect on you and how it could make you shine even more. How perfect you’d look. And how that could make his heart race high speed. He would feel so lucky to have you. The comfort he felt was so big. He would want the time to stop right there and live stuck there forever. With you. Also, he loved the way you showed him so much love. He loved your homemade cakes and pies. You were so good with pastry. It was your inside joke. Because you were so good with him as well. He sometime would join you and try to help just to fail miserably and start a flour fight. The kitchen ended up in a mess but you were giggling and enjoying yourselves. Everything was worth it.

He really loved sharing activities together. Whether it was a paddle match against George and Carmen or Maria Kart battles with Lando. Also you loved hiking together and discovering new places around Monaco where you could escape reality and plan picnic dates. He loved that you got along so well with his friends and family. Since day one it felt natural. Everyone was welcoming of you. He was so nervous about it. But it was perfect because for him you were.

He heard you coming down the stairs just in time for the breakfast he had prepared for you both. You appeared with your hair in a mess and sleepy eyes. His tshirt on and your boxers of lighting mcqueen. You looked so adorable. Squishy. he smiled widely at you. And you returned the smile hugging him tightly.

“Good morning sleeping beauty” he said sweetly, grabbing you in his arms and kissing your temple. He heard you giggle.

“Good morning my Prince Charming. How grateful I am to wake up next to you for the rest of my life” you said teasingly and romantically looking at him. He giggled blushing. A soft pink tone now on his cheeks. You always had that effect on him.

“and how grateful I am to have you in my arms every morning for the rest of my days” he said just like you making you giggle to then plant a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you,” he said, pulling away gently.

“Me too my love” you said softly.

You two took all of the things he had prepared with so much love to the table by the pool. The morning was beautiful and warm. Perfect. He put all of your favorite fruits and prepared your favorite cappuccino as well. He is always on the details. He remembered everything about you. You didn't have to ask - he already knew. He was perfect. Perfectly imperfect. There was no other man like him. You were sure about it. And you felt really lucky he even looked at you. These past few years were everything and more of what you could ever have dreamed as a kid. You always wanted to have your special someone - but you never thought you would find him.

You had your breakfast talking about what you were gonna do for the day.

Maybe this is what it really feels to fall in love.

Peaceful. Comfortable in silence. Not overthinking. Just being you and feeling loved. Feeling seen. Feeling celebrated. Cared for. Being chosen. The one. The bestest of friends. Your shoulder to cry on. Laughing until crying. Hugs and more hugs. Plasire. Deep talk. Vulnerability. Partnership. Support. Admiration. Trust and communication.

Giving a part of you to someone else to carry everywhere they went trusting they will never break it.

Maybe this is how you fall in love.

How you two fell in love every single day.

——————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

#my work!🧉#works by cate :)#oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fic #op81 #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x you

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moreaujeans · 2 years ago

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🙈

#personal #pretending i do not see all my final projects due thurs/fri of next week…#god i have no idea when im going to work on them. my lab partners for today were like let’s make sure we meet sunday through wednesday next #week! like?? girl no i don’t have time for that 😭 esp considering we’re basically Done w this final project #we need to add in a servo and some led pwm that’s literally it… meanwhile my final project for a different class is barely started at all #bc my lab partner has been gone for a solid three weeks due to medical issues And she has had the board for the last week so i haven’t been #able to do anything and she keeps scheduling work on the one day a week we can meet outside of lab like. GRRRHEWHAAAA #the engineering chronicles #and then there’s my short story essay and exam and all the physics hw sets i need to do and then review and ofc actual finals week after al #that etc etc… it never ends!!!!#the english chronicles #<- short story essay and exam are also a friday thing btw

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sunsetcupid · 1 month ago

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PRESS PLAY TO LISTEN ; IH6.

synopsis: A series of transcribed voicemails from your childhood best friend, Isack Hadjar.

trigger warnings: Use of Y/N; Use of feminine pronouns from the reader’s perspective; Use of swear words in French and English; Descriptions of romantic acts and behaviors; Suggestive remarks

a message from the author: This idea came to me just as I was falling asleep. I scribbled it down on a piece of paper (which was almost illegible), and I was thankfully able to craft a story from the “Voicemails, Isack, Best friend. . . More?” that I wrote.

VOICEMAIL 1.

Bonjour, Y/N. I know it is late, I don’t know why I am calling you this late. You should be asleep. If you aren’t. . .stop destroying your sleep schedule. Anyways, I am in Australia right now. As you know. Getting ready for the Grand Prix tomorrow.

And I cannot breathe. It is everything I have worked for, everything I could ever want. But at the same time, everyone is watching me. Just earlier today I was walking down the street and two girls asked for a photograph. That’s never happened to me before.

And I’m not exactly afraid of the attention, but I am. . .How do you put it? Je m'inquiète de ce qu'ils vont penser de moi. (Worried what they will think of me.) You will probably respond to this message and think I am so stupid. Who wouldn’t want to be famous, or whatever? And I’m not unhappy. I just want people to like me. I just want to make my parents proud.

I want to make you proud, Y/N. You’ve been to so many races. So many practices. And I forced you to go, you didn’t want to go at all. But you did it for me, and I want to show that it was worth it.

I am upset you could not fly in this weekend to watch me. I will try to get points. I want to get points. Imagine how incredible it would be, points at my first race. If I get points, you have to come next weekend.

No, wait. You’re going anyway. Merde. (Shit.) I’m so tired. It’s almost five in the morning and I have barely slept. I have had so many nightmares about this. I’m trying to breathe, to meditate or whatever you told me to do.

I’ll stop talking. Thank you for listening.

Au revoir, ma belle. (Goodbye, beautiful.) Talk to you later, hm?

VOICEMAIL 2.

You never pick up the phone when I call you. C'est ridicule ! (This is ridiculous.) I have so many things I want to talk to you about. Suzuka, I’ve heard stories about how hard it is, but it was so much harder than I expected. All those turns? I thought I was going to fly out of my seat.

And you couldn’t make it to the Grand Prix again. I am so angry with your university. Yes, you need an education. You’ve told me how important it is, and I agree. But it’s getting involved in our races. You told me you’d do anything for me.

Well, come to a race. Prove it.

I miss you so much, Y/N. It’s been so long since I saw your face.

Do not! I know you just opened your mouth. Je m'en fiche. (I don’t care.)

Three races in to the season, I want to talk to you. Call me whenever you can. The time differences are hard, but I will sleep late if I have to. You are more important. My best friend.

Oh! I also wanted to say, I listened to the song you wanted me to. The Sabrina Carpenter song. It was funny. Some of her lyrics were very. . .What is the word? Sexy. She is smart, like you. I put it on my pre-race playlist, so you might hear it blasting in my headphones before a race. If you ever come to one.

I talked to your father about the summer break trip to France. He said he is considering it if you pass your exams. If I have to help you in studying, I will. I want to spend time with you.

Putain. (Fuck.) They’re calling for me right now. Call me please!

VOICEMAIL 3.

Thank you for calling me last night. You don’t have to call me back, because I know you have an exam coming up for your organic chemistry class. I do not want to distract you. I only have a few minutes anyway, I am about to go in the car for the first practice session.

I hope you know that I am so proud of you for your hard work. We might not be in contact as much anymore, because of our schedules, but I am always here. You know too much.

My mother reminded me of that one time, when we were little – I let you practice makeup on me. You were, what, six? It was so bad. So much blush. But I laughed. And I kept it on the whole day. A little artist, you were.

Honestly, I don’t know who else I would have let do that to me. You’re special.

I’ve asked you this a thousand times already, but it doesn’t hurt to say it again. Come to Miami. We can go to the beach. You can tan. Read books. Annoy me.

Whatever it takes for us to be together.

J'ai adoré te voir en Chine. Ma belle. (I loved seeing you in China. My beautiful girl.)

VOICEMAIL 4.

I cannot sleep. At all. I’ve tried. It’s — three in the morning. And I went to bed at ten. Don’t tell me to get off the phone and keep trying. It’s not working.

I can’t stop thinking about you. Before you yell at me or tell me to be quiet, I wanted to say. . . I know we are just friends. That we aren’t anything more than that. But I think about you a lot, I care about you more than a friend.

You don’t have to answer. In fact, this was a stupid thing to do. I’m sorry for bothering you.

VOICEMAIL 5.

I saw your post. You look stunning. Putain, I thought I was going to fall to my knees in the middle of the paddock. (Fuck.) That dress is too beautiful. That color, the blue-purple, whatever it is? You look absolutely stunning. I could not breathe.

And that caption? What you wrote?

“Only bought this dress so you could take it off.” Are you trying to kill me? Mon dieu. (My God.)

I can’t wait to see you later this week. Bring that dress. We can do what you wrote. Please, ma belle. (Beautiful.)

I will call you again, later. When you are free. I love you.

Mwah.

Bye.

VOICEMAIL 6.

Dinner was fun with you. Even though you were nervous. You thought that they would kill us, but no! I cannot believe we told your parents that we are together. And they all said, “Finally.” Are we that ignorant? Two idiots in love?

Je sais que je le suis. (I know I am.) Every time I see you, I am worried that you will realize what a fool I am. How utterly in love I am with you.

Since we were eight. Can you believe that? I have loved you, ma belle, since we were eight years old. And it has taken me thirteen years to say something about it. (Beautiful.)

Mon dieu. Thank you for loving me back. (My God.)

Credits: Dividers — @thecutestgrotto

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1blr #f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #isack hadjar #isack hadjar x reader #ih6

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jeonstellate · 2 months ago

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the ghost of aegis

kimi protected his daughter’s right to choose — only for her to choose what he indirectly kept her from.

ᯓ★ kimi räikkönen x daughter!reader

ᯓ★ depictions of a protective dad; media reporters referred to as opportunistic vultures; brief mentions of retirement; ferrari (strategists) bashing; & mild language

ᯓ★ paragraph format — 4.1K words

masterlist

[pic’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

ᯓ★ italian word (y’all already know what) from google! kimi & yn mostly talk to each other in finnish, so all bolded dialogues are in english! as the ghost of monza & the ghost of legacy, there are no physical descriptions for yn.

ᯓ★ this is kimi’s pov for both tgom & tgol :D

ᯓ★ congratulations guys, y’all have officially made me care too much about räikkönen!yn. i’ll miss writing her, fs. maybe that’s why this ran longer than i thought it would. idk.

[First name] was Kimi Räikkönen’s firstborn. As the oldest, she admittedly had a way different upbringing than the rest of her siblings. Not only did she suffer through his initial cluelessness in parenting, she also lived through both the early years and the height of his Formula One career.

Amongst her siblings, she saw Kimi the least during her childhood. It’s not by a large margin in reality, but it definitely could’ve been more significant if not for all the workarounds he took to see her more often than his schedule freely allowed him to.

That meant she also went to the paddock the most. Her visits were always just long enough for her to see him, the closest people he worked with, and his team’s garage and motorhome; but simultaneously short enough to avoid reporters altogether. Those visits were definitely too fleeting for his liking, but they had to do.

[First name] wasn’t someone he was willing to dangle in front of the media, with them being the opportunistic vultures that they are. As much as he would’ve preferred if he could just hide her completely, that wasn’t a viable option for the long run. So, a compromise was made: The world got to know her name and existence, and nothing else.

He didn’t want to force the life he chose for himself on her. He wanted her to have a choice, like he did.

Kimi did enroll her for karting lessons as soon as she was eligible, but he also supported the interests she picked up outside of him. He never showed strong preference over the former, either, opting to give uniformed energy over all — even the ones that were obviously just phases.

The privacy from the limelight gave [first name] the freedom to be herself. She was able to explore plausible career options without external pressure to follow his footsteps.

For a time, his daughter seemed like she’d pursue a similar path. Until she changed her mind and decided on Mechanical Engineering.

"I just want to keep karting as a hobby," [first name] shrugged in response to a question he didn’t even get to vocalize after she offhandedly mentioned her university applications.

There was really no room for arguments there. Not that he would, because her decision also meant he didn’t have to worry about her potentially crashing in Formula One speed. "Why Mechanical Engineering?"

Kimi knew better than to expect a thorough answer. "Just because."

He accepted the non-answer as it was. As long as it was what his daughter wanted, he had no problem supporting her through it.

[First name]’s last visit to the paddock — which was still as short and fleeting as before — after a long while was during his last race before his retirement. It was right around the tail end of her first year’s first trimester and she pulled all the strings to be in Abu Dhabi for that weekend despite her exams. Kimi had hope for a better result for his last Formula One race, but spending time with his firstborn after a trimester of not seeing her around had been the highlight of his weekend then.

A part of him assumed that’d be her last visit to the paddock. Definitely not her last time in a circuit to watch a race in person, but certainly the last time she’d have a VIP Access pass or a paddock pass around her neck. After all, her classes were just going to get harder from that point on. Plus, she hadn’t given any indication of wishing to support her remaining uncles on the grid like she supported him, either.

As far as Kimi’s aware, [first name] had survived being subjected to paddock intrigue with no reporter or media sightings. She merely remained as the first name to ever grace his helmets throughout his long Formula One career.

Unfortunately, his previous assumption was proven to be too early to call. For his firstborn decided to snatch a ticket to the grand prix at the circuit 22.9 kilometers away from her university as soon as she heard about Sebastian’s retirement.

"How much did you buy it for?"

[First name] didn’t look up to the laptop camera when she replied. Her eyes stayed glued down on whatever she was writing on. "Not telling."

That was enough for him to gauge the price. "Princess," her endearment was laced with a hint of disappointment it didn’t usually have. "I could’ve gotten you a pass for free."

"I want to surprise Uncle Seb," she shrugged.

"Then I could’ve contacted Fernando."

She took a minute to respond, preoccupied with punching numbers in her calculator by the sound of it. "I don’t want any of them to feel responsible for me, dad."

Kimi, of course, didn’t approve of that. He might be retired, but there no way he’d consent to his daughter roaming loose at the paddock without eyes on her. It was still a dangerous place to be at, in more ways than one. "Someone needs to know you’ll be there."

Thankfully, [first name] didn’t need much convincing. "Right. I might not find them if they don’t know I’m dropping by." She paused, seemingly contemplating. "I’ll message them later tonight."

He messaged them as well after that video call. It was a bit ominous, but it had to do because he didn’t want to steal his daughter’s thunder in case Sebastian and Fernando read his message first. Take care of [first name] for me.

It did cause mild panic between the two, with Fernando questioning who’d get custody of his younger children and Sebastian asking how bad they were talking about, but it was nothing a quick (and vague) reply couldn’t fix.

[First name]’s visit to the Monza paddock started out predictable — or, at least, the way he hoped it would. She got to walk around without any interruptions — reporters paid her no mind, and the majority of the paddock merely dismissed her as one of the many drivers’ guests present. She geeked out about the mechanisms and engineering all around there, in a way only engineering students and those passionate about such things do. She also returned her VIP Access pass and replaced it with the paddock pass she purchased prior after she spent enough time with her uncles.

It was a success, as far as Sebastian and Fernando were concerned. [First name] seemed to share their sentiments, when she gave him her version of her Monza escapades the next time they video called after that weekend.

Kimi would like to think so, too, since it notably loosened the tension on his daughter’s shoulders. He was even willing to look past the unideal fact that more of the current grid now knew about [first name], because they played a part in making her weekend then somehow.

As far as he was aware, based on the reports he received from both Sebastian and Fernando, there were four people in the current grid that now knew about [first name]’s existence.

Lance and Esteban were the only ones who recognize her as Sebastian and Fernando’s shared niece. (He hadn’t been privy to the introduction either man used, but he’d assume they vaguely referred to him as a ‘common family friend’ to maintain the anonymity out of habit.) Charles and Carlos, on the other hand, were the only ones who know of her parentage. (Apparently, Charles was there when she sprinted from the Alpine motorhome to the garage where her uncles were. He had to tell someone to relieve himself of the shock, and his teammate had been the best choice.) The rest of the grid were none the wiser about the ‘[first name]’ on their former grid mate’s helmets breathing the same air as them.

Unfortunately, there was one thing he couldn’t look past about his daughter’s weekend at Monza. It was the detail Sebastian and Fernando purposely saved for last in their reports. Little Princess has a crush.

At first, he didn’t believe it. [First name] hadn’t gotten a crush since she entered high school. He knew that for certain, because he was obviously his daughter’s favorite — and she happened to tell him everything since she learned how to talk. She had mentioned being acquainted with Lance, Esteban, and the two Ferrari drivers; but never anyone who caught her eye in Monza.

However, Sebastian and Fernando made compelling arguments.

VET: [First name] zoomed on feet.

VET: ZOOMED.

ALO: I didn’t know she could go that fast outside a kart.

It wasn’t necessarily the news of her running fast that he found compelling. She had run toward him at top speed for years, notably whenever she won a karting race (which she always entered under a pseudonym). It was the news of her running fast because of a boy— because she wanted to know a boy’s name. She hadn’t done that before.

Kimi was slightly inclined to believe it. Unfortunately, the desire to deny was way stronger. Especially when he considered the fact that [first name] literally ran away from whoever that was.

[First name], much to Kimi’s interest, went back to the Monza paddock the following year. That time, however, she made sure to inform him beforehand; before she asked Fernando if it was alright to visit him prior to the race and before she purchased her ticket. A parcel with a VIP Access code and Aston Martin merch was promptly delivered to her university apartment’s address, but only the former saw the Monza sunshine.

ALO: Why did your daughter show up in your Ferrari merch when I sent her Aston Martin ones to wear?

RAI: They’re in the laundry.

‘Take care of [first name]’ went without saying that time around. Frankly, he was relieved he didn’t have to say it explicitly. His daughter was a number past eighteen now, and ergo had been a legal adult for more years than he wanted to admit, so a word about being overprotective would’ve definitely been said if the other circumstance was the case.

Not that he would mind, of course. Being so was . . . appropriate, for the lack of a better term, given that she’d remain his little girl — his baby — no matter how old she got.

And certainly no matter who caught her attention.

ALO: [First name] went to see him again.

VET: Who?

ALO: Her crush.

VET: Oh?

VET: How did it go?

ALO: She ran out again.

RAI: Did she get his name?

ALO: No.

ALO: Didn’t give her name, either.

In all honesty, Kimi didn’t care about who [first name]’s crushes were. One distinct detail for each was enough to identify them whenever they came up in conversations. He wouldn’t bother knowing their names, even if her crush on them lasted longer than the others. It was all a matter of principle. As long as their mere existence made her happy and motivated, he had no need to care about who they were and where they lived.

For the newest one though, he was seriously considering breaking that self-imposed rule. Because, against all odds (i.e., [first name] rarely going to the paddock), she saw him and developed a crush. And, to make matters worse, she saw him at the one place he thought she was finally free from: The paddock.

The paddock housed a lot of different characters. Subjectively, he would much prefer it if her crush was someone out of the limelight. Maybe one of the newly hired engineers, interns, or personnels. Hopefully not a driver, because he’d be beside himself with the mere thought.

But, alas. The name that followed his personal inquiry when he let his curiosity get to the best of him was all too familiar.

Oscar Piastri. McLaren, 81.

[First name], Kimi’s darling daughter, did have a crush on a Formula One driver.

[First name] never brought Oscar Piastri up, no matter how long Kimi waited — nor how many times he gave her the opportunity to. Even a mention of having a new crush was nowhere to be heard, not even in passing or blurted nonchalant confessions.

Kimi was frankly more intrigued about her latest crush because of that. He already acknowledged Oscar Piastri was different than the rest because he was an F1 driver, but he was also curious why the latter prompted a different treatment. What happened in the paddock that Oscar Piastri hadn’t gotten an introduction like everyone else before him?

Apart of him suspected it had something to do with Oscar Piastri being her first crush in adulthood. He didn’t like that idea, however, because of its potential implications — which included the chance that [first name] was simply outgrowing her habit of telling him everything.

He had known that that time would come eventually. He just hadn’t prepared for ‘eventually’ to mean ‘now.’

He supposed he should still be thankful that the change in boundaries didn’t mean he would hear nothing about what [first name] had been up to lately from her directly. Rather, he’d still do for some — just for very selected moments.

"Dad," [first name] called his attention after she conversed with her siblings before they disappeared for their night baths. "What do you think of me interning for F1?"

"For the FIA?"

"No, for one of the teams," she clarified.

That intrigued him more than the possibility of his daughter working directly for the FIA. "Which team?"

"I’m not sure yet, but definitely not one of your old teams," she answered thoughtfully. "So no Sauber, McLaren, Ferrari, or Alpine."

"I didn’t race for Alpine."

She dismissed his correction, "Technicalities."

Kimi’s eyes softened. It still felt like yesterday when [first name] first sat in the cockpit of his F1 car at five years old, which ultimately gave rise to her karting career. She might’ve given it up in favor of pursuing a more stable career, but his influence on her was definitely still there.

"Include them in your list, too," he eventually chose to say next. "You never know."

His daughter didn’t argue, but it did take her awhile to see merit in his suggestion. "I suppose."

It was quite too late when Kimi realized he essentially just gave her permission to pursue her crush by encouraging her to apply for an internship at McLaren.

[First name] didn’t always have time to watch races between her classes, part-time job, and endless to-do list. Thus, she often watch recordings of the ones she missed whenever she was back home for breaks. Rather than asking her which races she missed, however, Kimi opted to save every race recording on the TV instead.

Watching them back wasn’t an exclusive ‘them’ bonding activity, but it still felt like it somehow since they were usually the only ones to finish them all the way through.

"You’ve rewatched some already?" [First name] blurted from her spot on the couch when he re-entered the living room with snacks.

He opted to join her on the couch first before responding, "Yeah."

He considered saying more than that, but an elaboration called for omissions. After all, not all of those rewatches were done in honest forgetfulness, but also in critical eyes for one specific driver.

He wouldn’t mind telling her that he had been watching Oscar Piastri’s performance (including his onboards) and interviews had she opened up about her new crush. There was nothing wrong with what he had done, as he never went beyond observing him in Formula One. What he did see an issue with, however, was freaking out his daughter by sharing his observations and subsequent conclusion when she hadn’t even said a word about him.

RAI: Piastri’s good.

Thankfully, [first name] didn’t question his response. "Would you still rewatch with me?"

Kimi looked at her like she just asked an absurd question as he handed her favorite snack over. "Of course."

VET: Is that a seal of approval?

[First name] ended up finishing a bag and a half in the first race alone, since she was stressing about Ferrari’s questionable strategy — or lack thereof — the entire time.

[First name] went back to the Monza paddock for the third year in a row. By that point, Kimi was already half-expecting her to — and was not even a tad surprised when she told him about her intentions.

Yet, still, that didn’t mean her latest visit was void of any surprises. For Fernando’s triumphant update of Little Princess has finally been acquainted with Papaya boy was eventually followed by a call.

It was [first name].

"Princess, are you alright?" Kimi asked worriedly as soon as he picked up. In the three years she visited the Monza paddock, that marked the first time she called on a race day. For the first two years, she had saved all her stories about her paddock trip for the following week — or whenever she had the time to call next. So, for her to call a couple hours after the race broadcast ended . . . "Are you hurt?"

"I’m okay, dad." [First name]’s response provided an immense sense of relief. He almost audibly exhaled. "I’m on the train back to Milan. I got something to eat at the station."

He voiced his approval. His daughter often forwent eating in favor of finishing something for school, so he was glad to hear she actually grabbed dinner for once. "Let me know when you get back to your apartment."

His daughter merely made a noise of acknowledgement before swaying the conversation. "Uncle Nando told me something interesting earlier."

He found himself a comfortable spot to sit, unsure with how long the conversation would take. "What did he tell you?"

"He said you’ve known that I have a crush on a McLaren driver for years."

Kimi nodded to himself, despite their call being merely audio. He supposed it was about time he come clean about keeping a watchful eye on Oscar Piastri. "I didn’t believe him and Sebastian until last year."

The following silence made him reconsider, however. Especially when it was ultimately broken by a sigh on the other end. "I didn’t want to tell you yet."

"You don’t have to tell me now," he assured her before she could say anything else.

"But, dad, you already know."

"And?" He challenged, almost dismissively. "I want to hear a confirmation from you. But I only want to hear it when you’re ready."

[First name] took another moment to respond. "What if I take a while to get ready?"

"Then I’ll wait," Kimi shrugged — forgetting once more that his daughter couldn’t see him. "Simple."

[First name] chose Williams, in the end. She got a few internship offers from the current Formula One teams and, although she recognized one from the top would look better on her resume, she figured one from the midfield would be personally more fulfilling. That, and also because she didn’t think she’d be able to restrain herself if she heard the Ferrari strategists call bullshit.

Kimi, as he had done throughout her entire life thus far, just sat back and supported her decision. He did find it somewhat amusing that Charles couldn’t let go of the fact that she rejected the Ferrari internship offer, though.

Hearing her stories about her paddock shenanigans made one thing clear. [First name] belonged there. Formula One might still be far from letting women rejoin the sport as contenders but, one way or another, she had always been meant to be there. His caution might’ve protected her from vultures in her childhood, but it was never meant to drive her away completely.

It must’ve been her Räikkönen blood interfering with her calling.

Needless to say, Kimi was beyond proud of his firstborn. Even more so when he heard about her little rebellion stunt that she cleverly masked as an act of merely going above and beyond, regardless of her core intention for doing so.

[First name] had told him so many things about her internship. Not just the borderline nuisances she had to put up with from the drivers, but also the interesting things she learned. It was unsurprising to hear that there were a lot he didn’t know about how Formula One operated, despite being an active part of it for two decades.

His absolute favorite recap happened on a dawn where sleep was ripped from him by the ringtone he set specially for [first name]. Amidst the sleep-induced fog in his brain, he comprehended an excited "Dad!" as soon as he swiped to answer.

"What happened?" His reply came out hoarse with sleep.

"I—" Her initial response stopped short. "Did I wake you?" She paused, long enough for him to exit the master’s bedroom and head toward the living room. He could’ve sworn he heard her curse under her breath, but he couldn’t be quite sure. "Sorry, dad. I forgot about the timezone. Go back to bed. I’ll just tell you in the morning."

Rather than replying, he touches the button that requests for a video call. He only resumed the conversation once he could see her face on his phone screen. "What is it?"

She was still in her Williams uniform, looking as if she just got back to her accommodation despite her usual internship time ending hours ago.

"It’s okay," she shook her head lightly, clearly feeling apologetic. "It’s not a big deal. I’ll just call again in the morning."

"[First name]," Kimi pronounced his daughter’s name akin to the way he used to whenever he was exasperated. It wasn’t that hard to tell the ‘not a big deal’ was a lie. "What is it?"

Thankfully, his daughter did the wise thing and complied.

[First name]’s excitement was back in a blink, albeit it manifested in her eyes rather than in her voice still. "I have a new crush."

He nodded once, already accepting that it was as good a time as any. He had been waiting, after all. "Will you tell me about him?"

The sun was already beginning to rise by the time the call finished. He didn’t mind, partly because his firstborn hadn’t called in almost a month, but mostly because [first name] had the corners of her mouth slightly upturned the entire time.

"[First name], there you are," Kimi greeted as soon as he spot his firstborn entering the Aston Martin garage. The visit marked his first time back at the paddock since his retirement almost four years ago, and he figured his daughter’s ‘favorite’ circuit was the best one to make his first return appearance at. "Where did you go?"

[First name], in support, asked for a day off from her internship. Hence her deliberate choice to blend in with the huge tifosi crowd in tifosi territory. "Around."

"You left me with the media," he said, almost accusatory, as he watched her hug his former teammate.

She wasn’t amused. "I left you with Uncle Jenson." Nor was he, when she chose to return standing next to the person clad in orange and black. "Uncle Lewis and Uncle Nico were there, too."

Kimi didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he turned his attention to the person next to his daughter. It was Oscar Piastri. "Where did you take my daughter?"

He saw panic in the younger McLaren driver’s eyes.

He squinted his eyes into an almost glare, inquisitive and suspicious. He might be generally supportive of her crushes because of the motivations they came with, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was fine with seeing them — her and her crush — together. It was one thing to hear stories about the said person, and another to live through the moments those stories were made.

"Here," [First name] answered on Oscar Piastri’s behalf.

It didn’t help that Oscar Piastri was an F1 driver, either. He knew, firsthand, about the life and lifestyle that came with being one. So, naturally, his trust was in the negatives — regardless of the other’s impressive driving and generally likable public persona.

Conclusions were instantly made and, of course, none of them were to his liking — not even remotely. He returned his attention to her. "You left me to go to him?"

"No, I went to Ferrari first to meet Charles’ dog," she corrected. "Then I went to McLaren."

"Why did you go to McLaren?" Fernando inquired exactly what was in his mind. "Why did she go to you?"

[First name] shrugged, looking every bit like a relaxed spokesperson for the seemingly tongue-tied McLaren driver. "Tradition."

Kimi casted her a questioning look, but she merely held it with ease. Her expression remained unchanged and void of any potential clues. He had absolutely no idea what she could’ve possibly meant.

He wisely opted to not think too much about it, but not without sending Oscar Piastri another look of distrust.

#kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen x daughter!reader #kr7 x reader #f1 x reader #dad!kimi raikkonen #raikkonen!reader #kimi raikkonen fanfic #kr7 fanfic #f1 fanfic #kimi raikkonen imagine #kr7 imagine #f1 imagine #kimi raikkonen fic #kr7 fic #kimi raikkonen #kr7 #f1 #formula one #formula 1

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leeril · 2 months ago

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Routine

Tobias Rogers x reader

Short and sweet, not proofread

Banner credit- @cafekitsune

Her schedule was ingrained in my mind, from how long it took her to brush her teeth in the morning, to the late night cram sessions in the library. I knew she woke up extra early every Wednesday before class, the exact bus route she took just to miss the early morning traffic on her way back from the gym. I had her days down to the minute.

I could always tell the exact mood she was in from the small pin in her hair, each colour a different emotion. A small gateway into her mind.

I had her coffee order memorised like I was the barista who worked the till from 08:12 to 08:17. I knew the exact amount of syrup pumps, whether she wanted it iced or hot, or when she had that yellow pin in her hair- with extra sweet foam.

She was perfect, truly. She was perfect for me.

So why did she have to go and ruin our routine? Why did you ruin it?

Did I not pay you enough attention? I even stood closer to you in the grocery store. Slightly too close in the parking lot. But I was there wasn’t I? You knew I was.

It started with those extra 5 minutes while you were in bed. That wasn’t part of the schedule. You were running into your sleep. Was it him you were texting? Or something else? The once gorgeous and open smile you held, was now tainted. Did you direct it at him? Did he make you smile?

My favourite times together were always the ones where it felt like you saw me. Really saw me. Not just the dark shadow in the corner of your yard.

You needed me. It was so much easier to love you, cause I knew, I knew you needed me. Did you need him?

Those extra 5 minutes really were the turning point for us, weren’t they? After that you changed even more.

How dare you coil around my bleeding heart, squeezing and squeezing. And fucking squeezing. Till the last drop painted your perfect lips. My hand can still feel the wetness. Was it my blood that night? Was it yours? Did we meld together? Did you taste how sweet you really fucking were? Was mine copper? Was it bitter? Did you feel the love?

Those late night cram sessions quickly just became an excuse to sit on your phone, laptop idly staring at you, screen completely black. It gave me the perfect chance to observe you. I’m sure you didn’t see me- you were too busy of course. Still on that goddamn phone. Our reflections looked so perfect together, if only you had just lifted your head.

I remember the first night vividly, your pink pin in your hair, that yellow worn out cardigan on your shoulders, preparing for an English literature exam. But you just couldn’t keep your eyes on your notes, could you? Every few minutes, your eyes, your wandering eyes, they kept drifting to your phone. Was it his notification you were hoping for?

You really made me sick that night.

I forgive you now. It’s in the past after all. I know you won’t do it again. You’re perfect.

Thursday was always our day. The late lie in bed. The slow pace of you reaching for your phone, laughing at whatever was on it. It was your friends, right? Katie and issy? Your face entirely relaxed, hair slightly messy, curtain open just enough for me to savour how the sun shined against your skin. French toast with an excessive amount of powdered sugar, a cup of earl grey with honey, if it was raining- chai.

He doesn’t bring you flowers you know. I do. Amaranthus, daisies and anemones. They make a beautiful bouquet. I’m sure you think so too. I deliver them on our day. Do you like them? Do you see how much I still care?

You always did have a floral scent. The smell of rot doesn’t suit you. But I still bear it. Because I love you.

I loved the sound of your laughter, how it always seemed to cling to my skin. You had a way of filling any uncomfortable silence with ease. Are you laughing now?

I remember the last look you gave me. There was no fear. No surprise. It was like you anticipated this all along. Like you carefully shifted the routine to fit me in. Made all the correct advances for weeks just to feel the cold blades imbed your bones. You didn’t fight it. You didn’t scream. You just looked at me with that innocent smile. Those knowing eyes. And they told me all I needed. You loved me too.

Now as you lay there a few feet away from me, smell disguised by the flowers, I’m telling you about my day. You’re finally there to listen. The game of cat and mouse is finally over. Do you forgive me too?

#ticci toby #toby rogers #tobias rogers #tobias erin rogers #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #toby rogers x reader #leerilwrites

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dailynnt · 7 months ago

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FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 8/30

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words. Tags will be added as the story is written.

⊹👩🏼‍💻 From the author: A new part for everyone who reads my story. I don't know about you, but something don't like to me in this part. Perhaps because I finally have to lead the plot to the main problem of the story, I feel some pressure. I don't know how it all works or how it should be, but I'm writing purely from my imagination, which tries to be logical. Y/N sees Jungkook in his new look and learns something about his work. She has no idea Jungkook he might be connected to the mafia. I think it's obvious, and you all guessed it, that Jungkook is working for the mafia clan.

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: Dedicate this work to my darling @myjungkookthighs I so appreciate all your love for my story and your endless support. This story is for you.💜🥰

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋 Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 8: That man driving the Mercedes.

It was Friday. You were lying on the couch in front of the TV watching your favorite show. You could finally enjoy some free time. After passing the exam, you could breathe a sigh of relief. Now you have almost 2 months off before the next semester starts.

You didn't really plan what to do during these two months. Christmas and New Year's are coming up, so you'll probably go to Suwon to visit your parents and spend the Christmas vacation with them. You would like Jungkook to come with you, too, because he rarely visits his parents because of his work. You planned to persuade him.

When you thought of Jungkook, you felt sad. Since the last time you were together, he has hardly ever been home. He comes home late and leaves early, when you already sleeping or still sleeping. You text each other, sometimes when he has time you talk on the phone, but these conversations are short. You felt that you missed Jungkook because you missed his warmth. And not just his warmth. He promised to teach you about sex, and for some reason he disappeared. His work schedule became erratic.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to got intimate with Jungkook again. After your last time in the shower, you couldn't help but think about Jungkook every day. It was so hot between you two. You wanted to feel his hot kiss on your lips again. To taste his skillful tongue. To feel the strength of his muscles moving under your hands. To moan at his skillful fingers and finally feel him filling you with his cock. To be completely at his mercy.

But all you have is his dirty clothes that he leaves in the laundry room, which is how you know he's home, and the food he buys every day and leaves for you. That's the reason you haven't left the house in almost a week. You just don't need to, everything you need is there. Except for Jungkook.

You're looking at the TV, but your mind is far away. But when you see the characters on the screen coming to a restaurant and eating samgyopsal, you remember that Jungkook promised that you two would go to “Kyochon Chicken” and eat the most delicious chicken in Seoul to celebrate your excellent passing the exam. But it seems like Jungkook had forgotten about it altogether.

You were distracted by a phone call. It was Suyong. She called to ask you were doing, and then she suggested that we go to Myeongdong and buy gifts for her parents for Christmas at the Lotte Department Store. You were eager to buy gifts too. But the scholarship was still two weeks away, and it would arrive almost before Christmas. You only had money for utilities, some of which you had to pay, so you only had about 100 thousand won left. It was not enough. You thought you would ask Jungkook if he could lend you some money.

You told Suyoung that you would go with her and that you would meet her at the exit of the subway station. You'll be there in an hour.

You took a shower to freshen up. You put on makeup and went to get dressed.

Your outfit today was a white turtleneck sweater and mom jeans. There was a lot of snow outside and it made the subzero temperature outside not so cold. So it would be comfortable to walk around in this outfit and it wouldn't be cold. You combed your hair and at first you wanted to tie it up in a high ponytail, but you changed your mind. It would be much warmer with your hair down. A long cappuccino winter coat and white boots completed the look.

The street was crowded. People were busy in the pre-Christmas bustle, everyone was in a hurry to do their own thing. When you reached the street leading to the subway, you remembered that you hadn't called Jungkook to borrow money yet. You found his number and heard long dial tones.

"Hey, baby." - Jungkook answered the phone. You heard his voice, today was the first time you called him. You had only spoken to him yesterday in the morning and you hadn't seen him for what seemed like forever, even though you live together. Your heart is beating fast. It must be from walking in the cold air.

"Hi." - You say. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. What about you? Are you going out?" - Jungkook asks.

"I'm fine too. Yeah. Going to the subway." - You say sadly. You suddenly felt how much you missed your friend.

"Why are you going to the subway?" - Jungkook asks you again. His voice is gentle and thoughtful.

"That's why I'm calling you. Suyoung suggested that we go to the LDS to buy gifts for Christmas. I want to buy gifts for my parents too, but I won't get my scholarship until the 25th. Could you lend me some money?" - You ask, still keeping your tone low-key.

"Of course, baby. How much do you need?" - Jungkook agrees immediately. You are grateful to him.

"Can you transfer 300 thousand to the card?" - You ask.

"Will that be enough? Probably I send you more?" - You hear Jungkook say. But you don't need more. This amount should be enough to buy gifts for parents. You have already bought a gift for Jungkook.

A week ago, when you were in Itaewon on business, you saw a limited edition watch in the Calvin Klein store. When you saw it, it instantly reminded you of your friend's image. It was beautiful, immediately catching your eye out of all the watches on display. A metal strap and a black dial with a minimalist design. You immediately realized that this watch had to be his. Besides, Jungkook loves to wear watches and this would be a good gift to remind him of you.

It was expensive, so now you have to ask for money to buy gifts.

"I don't need any more. Thank you." - You say. It's still about 15 minutes walk to the subway station, but you're already cold. You should have worn warmer pants or a jacket.

"Okay." - Jungkook says, and after a couple of seconds adds. "What's wrong with your voice?" - He finally notices that you're sad.

"It's okay." - You say shortly. You hear him laughing through the phone.

"It’s must be I done something wrong." - He states and you feel that he is still smiling. You smile too, but quietly so he doesn't hear. How well he knows you. You quickly compose yourself and speak with the same tone. Before you can speak, you hear a notification that money has been credited to your card. You didn't look at the amount, but it seems to be the amount you needed.

"You didn't do anything wrong. You just promised something and didn't fulfill it." - You say. Jungkook yells into the phone.

"No freaking way!" - He says in mock horror. You smile. "I'm a real asshole. Just tell me and I'll do it for you in a heartbeat." - Jungkook promises. You're laughing louder now, but still bitterly.

"I haven't seen you for almost a week, only your dirty clothes. What kind of stupid schedule do you have? Besides, you won't do it so fast. You promised to go eat chicken." - You're already faking sadness, too. But Jungkook can hear you laughing into the phone.

"Do you miss me, baby?" - Jungkook flirts. You can hear it in his voice.

"Not that I miss you... But I'm used to your company, I'm just bored alone." - You deny. Only admit that you miss him, as it could be your curse. You won't be able to withstand the bold reproaches that you can't live without your friend. Therefore, you need to choose your words more clearly.

"Oh... so you're bored. Do you want me to cheer you up?" - You hear him lower his voice.

"Maybe." - You say playfully, too. Jungkook laughs. She never admits to being bored or wanting something more. She just teases him. He likes that.

"This sucks. We'll definitely go to a restaurant. But I really can't do it right now. I have an important meeting with a woman." - Your friend is serious. The infusion he raised a moment ago instantly disappeared. You raised your eyebrows and felt a stab of jealousy.

"What woman?" - You say a little more sharply than you wanted to. Jungkook can barely contain his laughter.

"She's a very important partner. I have to settle some things with her about the deal." - Jungkook says. You are surprised for a moment that he is telling you such details. Usually everything about his work is covered in shadows.

"Then I won't distract you from your important meeting with a woman." - You say dryly. Why did he emphasize that it was a woman? "She's much more important than me." - You can't help but reproach him.

"She is very important at the moment. I'm sorry, baby." - Jungkook apologizes. You shake inside.

"Is she pretty?" - You asked with venom in your voice. Jungkook could barely contain his laughter. He knew you were jealous.

"She's fucking hot!" - He said with admiration in his voice. You feel like you've been electrocuted. How can this jerk say that to you about some woman? You instantly become angry. Suddenly you don't regret that this asshole was gone for a whole week. Is he serious? Did he find someone when you agreed to had sex? But you didn't talk about it properly and didn't agree on the rules. Because you thought it was obvious that while you were together you shouldn't have partners. But Jungkook didn't seem to have enough of you.

You wanted to scold him, but you heard a car horn to your left. It was so loud that you jumped in fright. Not far from you, on the sidewalk, was a black Mercedes Gelentwagen. Behind the wheel was Jungkook, dressed in a black sweatshirt that hugged his body and a black jacket over it.

You spent almost half a minute trying to figure out if it was really Jungkook or if you were hallucinating. He held the phone to his ear and smiled broadly, slyly.

"I can see her right now, so I have to hang up." - He said.

You glare at your friend, who looks like a fucking mafia in that car and those clothes. You approach his open window, completely forgetting that you wanted to fight with him a moment ago

"You drive a Geltwagen? What kind of job do you have?" - You ask with your mouth open and examine at the car as you can. You were impressed by the look of this car. It radiates power and elegance at the same time. Coincidence? But it was your favorite car of all the ones you had seen. Its square shape set it apart from most cars, making it almost unique. Its straight, sharp lines make you feel his powerful in the best possible way. That's why you like it.

"Get in the car quickly. I can't park here." - Jungkook warns you to move faster. But you get into the car, mesmerized, and run your eyes over the leather interior. Jungkook starts the engine and the car starts to move with a typical Geltwagen growl.

You turn your head to look at Jungkook and don't recognize him. Is this gorgeous man your best friend? You're used to seeing him in sporty clothes, riding a bike. But seeing him in a business suit and driving such an expensive car is something new.

"Do you always wear a suit at work?" - You suddenly break the silence. Jungkook holds the steering wheel with one hand and rests the other on the armrest.

"Uh-huh. It's part of the dress code." - He answers, keeping his eyes on the road. You look at Jungkook like that and you drool even more at the sight of him. How the fuck can you be so sexy while driving a car and wearing a suit? You already think he's sexy and handsome, but what you're seeing right now is lighting a fire in your eyes.

"And this is your car?" - You ask.

"The company car." - Jungkook clarifies. But it's a lie. You would notice if you knew that every time Jungkook lies, he eats his lips.

It was his car, but you don't want to know that. Because you would immediately want to know how he got the money for such a car. Jungkook only uses it when he's at work, because it emphasizes a certain status. When he started living with you, he only rides his bike. He doesn't want you to know about certain things.

"What does this company do that they buy Mercedes as company cars?" - You impressed ask. Jungkook smiled slightly.

"I told you I work in the defense service. That's all I can tell you." - He says carefully. But he quickly changes the subject before you ask too many questions. "So are we going to eat chicken?" - He asks and quickly glances at you, looking away. But almost instantly he turns it back to you, staring shamelessly. You try to figure out what's wrong and look at the road and then at Jungkook.

"What? Why are you looking like that? Look at the road instead." - You point at it. He looks at you for a moment and then looks away.

"I was just looking at you and couldn't understand..." - He says and deliberately doesn't finish his sentence.

"Understand what? Is there something on my face?" - You reached for the sun visor with a mirror in it. Opening it, you began to look for what Jungkook might have noticed.

"I couldn't figure out if you've always been this beautiful or if it's just the white turtleneck that makes you look more pretty?" - Jungkook says. You are instantly embarrassed by his compliment. What is wrong with him? Telling you that you're beautiful right to your face?

"What do you think?" - You ask, wanting to know his opinion.

"I think it's the sweater." - He jokes and gets punched in the ribs. He laughs and you look at your friend angrily.

"I am beautiful, not my sweater that makes me beautiful." - You argue. Jungkook laughs.

"Yes, baby. You are." - He says more gently and you feel those fucking butterflies in your stomach. It was a simple compliment, but you blush. You know that he thinks you're beautiful, but it's so unusually to hear it. Because he usually only teases you and doesn't say it sincerely like this.

When you're almost at “Kyochon Chicken”, you remember that you're supposed to meet Suyoung in 30 minutes. You completely forgot about it when you saw Jungkook.

You pull out your phone to text your friend that you're going to be late.

"I have to meet Suyong, that's why I left the house. But you've thrown me off track." - You complain to Jungkook. He sees you texting Suyong and asks.

"Text her that you're going to be hour late." - You froze and stopped typing.

"Hour? Why is it taking so long? Let's get a quick meal." - You suggest. Jungkook is already pulling into a large parking lot not far from the restaurant. There aren't many cars here at this hour. He doesn't answer, so you just watch him.

After parking the car a far from another, he unbuckles his seatbelt. Then he quickly approaches you, standing next to you and leaning over the armrest. One of his hands rests somewhere above your head, and he puts the other on your hips, closer to your fly.

"Because I missed and I want to amuse you." - He says. Before you can to react it, you feel his lips on yours. Jungkook kisses you and you respond immediately. The phone falls out of your hands, and you reach for Jungkook's hair. You plunge your fingers into his neatly stolen locks and mess up his hairstyle. The kiss becomes hotter as you use your tongue, and you both realize that you really missed each other.

You don't know when you became so dependent on Jungkook. As you kiss him, you want it to never end. You forget about everything in the world when those unrestrained lips are against yours.

After a week without his touch, you're hungry. And you definitely don't need chicken right now. You need Jungkook.

He pulls away from you, but only by an inch, and smiles.

"You missed your friend did ya?" - He asks the obvious. You bite your lip, remembering how you kissed a moment ago. What is there to hide? You were crazy about his absence.

"My favorite mouth." - He says as he nibbles on your lips. "I remember how great they looked wrapped around my cock." - Jungkook's words make you even wetter. You think back to that scene in the bathroom, too, and your desire increases.

Jungkook captures your lips again, not wanting to be without them for long. He engulfs your lips completely, and then kisses each lip in turn, pushing his tongue back into your mouth. This kiss is determined, passionate. He wants to show you how much he missed you.

While kissing you, Jungkook easily finds the button on your mom jeans and unbuttoned it. In a moment, his fingers are already smearing the abundant moisture on your folds. You moan into Jungkook's mouth with pleasure. You had forgotten how good it feels.

Jungkook felt his pants getting too tight from this girl moans. You were so wet that he seemed to be able to enter you so easily that it wouldn't cost him anything. And it wouldn't cost you either. The thought of shoving his cock into your welcoming pussy has made him even harder.

He wants to. He hasn't had sex in almost a week. It's not a big deal, sometimes he could go longer without it, but not when you're around. He feels so good with you that Jungkook felt like he could fuck you every day. Then the day you had sex for the first time, you gave him a kind of animal desire to you.

"Do you want me to fuck your little pussy?" - Jungkook asks you. He doesn't move too far away, continuing to caress you. Now his finger penetrates your hole. You spread your legs wider to make it easier for Jungkook to penetrate. He thinks it's still tight.

"Right here?" - You struggle to say it, fighting the sensations of his fingers. Your heart is beating like crazy in your throat.

"Yes. Right here." - Jungkook confirms. In fact, you'd rather he did it anywhere.

"We don't have a condom." - You say, and you're already regretting it. Because you really want to be filled with his cock.

"I have in the glove compartment." - Jungkook says to you.

"Why do you have condoms in your company car?" - You groan indignantly, your eyebrows raised. If Jungkook doesn't stop right now, you're going to come.

"I bought them on the way to your place!" - He confesses. You think. So he was on his way home to have sex? You wouldn't have minded. Did he want to catch you off guard? But if you hadn't called him, he wouldn't have known you were out.

"Did you have plans?" - You almost squeak and come to his fingers. How skillfully he makes you come every time.

"The plan was to fuck you on the couch at home. But doing it in the car is more to my liking." - Jungkook says, licking his fingers with your wetness. You're getting excited. You bite your lip and feel the orgasm you just had still coursing through your body.

"Take thatone from the glove compartment and get in the backseat." - Jungkook says and gets out of the car. You open the glove compartment, which was just above your knees. There's nothing in the glove compartment except a package of three condoms and a leather car manual. You take the package and get out to get into the back seat. Before you get out of the car, you take off your long coat, which is restricting your movements.

When you get in, Jungkook climbs in and makes himself comfortable. He also managed to take off his jacket and leave it on the driver's seat. He looks damn hot in that tight sweatshirt. You discreetly glance at his crotch. He's well aroused.

Jungkook gives you a studying look, probably deciding how this is going to go. You're holding the box of condoms and don't know what to do next. You can feel yourself getting embarrassed.

But this disappears when Jungkook moves closer. He sits in the middle next to you and holds you close. His hand reaches into yours and grabs what he'll need in a few minutes.

"So how would you like it? Riding me or lying down?" - Jungkook asks you, already busy taking off your sweater. You silently submit to his actions. He throws your white sweater somewhere on the ground and reaches for your breasts. Without removing your bra, he puts his hand through the fabric and frees your left boob.

He slowly bends down and takes your nipple in his mouth and sucks on it. The slight pain of his sucking is intertwined with desire and you feel even more excited. Your underwear is already soaked with moisture. The more Jungkook plays with your nipple, the more he makes you hot.

"Jungkook..." - Escapes your lips as he caresses your breasts and simultaneously tries to penetrate your hole. His fingers get in freely and he plunges his fingers inside you to stretch you for more.

When he's done with your nipple, he moves on to your neck. A path of kisses appears on your neck. You feel the traces of his lips and tongue meet the air and you shiver.

"Yes, baby." - Jungkook responds to his name.

"I need you..." - You moan sensually.

"I'm here." - He says. He continues to stretch you. But you realize that his experienced fingers are not enough. You need more. And you're almost ready to beg him.

"No. I want... you. Inside me." - Jungkook smiles to you words. It's a sly and insidious smile. What a treat for the ears to hear you want to be filled with his cock.

"Do you want me to fuck your sweet, tight pussy?" - He purrs against your lips.

"Yes..." - You exhale, feeling the friction of his fingers. You are becoming needy. Needy to the point of being desperate. "Please fuck me." - You beg. The words that come out of your mouth make Jungkook's cock twitch. He can barely keep himself from giving you all fours and fucking you senseless. But you're you. And he has to be careful with you. For now.

"Take off your pants and underwear." - He orders a little roughly. You like the possessiveness in his voice. It makes you wet even more. You obey and take off your pants, watching him pull down his pants out of the corner of your eye. They fall to his ankles. A moment later, his boxers are in the same place.

His cock bumps against his stomach as he sits up. He's horny and hard.

You remember giving him a blow job and salivate. As Jungkook pulls out a silver foil condom, you grab the length of it and run your tongue around the head.

Jungkook freezes for a moment. He doesn't breathe when he feels your tongue running over his cock. You feel him shudder a few times and you realize that he likes it.

Jungkook spreads his legs wide and you take more of his length into your mouth. You move your head up and down to make him feel good. He moans with pleasure. Your wet warm mouth is perfect for his cock. Jungkook puts his hand on your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair. You should see the eyes he's looking at you with now. They are dark, full of lust.

At some point, you touch his balls with your free hand and squeeze them slightly. Jungkook is going crazy. This is evidenced by his hissing mixed with his moans.

"Fuck!" - He curses barely audibly. He wants to come in your mouth. But he was going to fuck you. So your mouth work is enough, otherwise you don't get what you're promised.

Jungkook grabs you by the hair and easily takes you off his erect cock. He's covered in your saliva.

"If you keep doing that, I won't be able to fuck your pretty cunt." - He says. You wipe away the saliva that has already gathered in the corner of your mouth and stand up. Without letting go of your hair, Jungkook pulls you down and kisses you with his tongue. This tongue is perfect both on his cock and on his tongue.

He finally lets go of you and puts on a condom. You don't watch for long, because as soon as he's done with that, he pats his thighs, inviting you to sit on top of him.

This is something you haven't done before. It will be interesting to see how Jungkook's length will feel in this position. But before you climb on top of him, you ask your friend to take off his sweatshirt. You want you to be completely naked.

You end up on Jungkook's lap. He holds his cock as he helps you sit on him. When the head of his cock touches your entrance, you are jubilant. It has finally happened.

"Go down slowly, in and out." - Jungkook warns you in a low and breathy voice. As his cock sinks deeper into your passage, you feel the pressure. It still hurts, but it's not like the first time. You stop sometimes to get used to it.

A loud sensual moan escapes your lips. You press your groin against his as much as possible, your clit feeling his skin and pubic hair. Your eyes are glazed over with incredible pleasure.

The pressure on his length is different than when you're lying down or on all fours. You're just sitting on his cock and your walls are closing around him. Jungkook is swearing because he's never fucked a cunt that tight. It's unreal.

Jungkook puts his big hands on your buttocks, squeezing them lightly. He will help you if you get tired of swinging on his cock.

After getting used to these sensations, you want more and so you move your hips. Again, you feel pain. But it is almost imperceptible. Then more movements, then more movements. You set the rhythm. Now you're jumping on his lap and you can't get enough of the sensations of this sex.

It's crazy good. Your breasts are bouncing with every move you make. Your nails dig into Jungkook's muscular shoulders, which gives him an unrealistic high. Your cunt swallowed his cock so perfectly.

"Come on, baby, ride on my cock." - Jungkook encourages you, his voice full of lust. You bite your lip so hard it almost bleeds. "That feels so fucking good." - Jungkook says. You fully agree. You just moan at the feeling of his big cock inside you.

You keep rocking, Jungkook helping you by walking his hands from your ass to your hips.

Suddenly, some phone vibrates somewhere in the front seat. You open your eyes and freeze for a moment, but Jungkook pushes you with his hands to continue. You continue, but the phone doesn't stop ringing.

"I think it's your phone." - You say to Jungkook breathlessly. The vibration is coming from the driver's seat.

"I'll call back." - He replies just as breathlessly. You stop again and feel blissful pleasure from below. Your cunt throbs around Jungkook's cock. He pulls your neck and your lips merge in passion. You're fired up from this kiss and carry out the work you started. But no matter how much you want to ignore the phone, it vibrates a few more times.

"Someone really needs you." - You state, pointing at the phone. Jungkook swats it away and kisses your neck. You just move your hips and feel like you're getting close to orgasm. But the phone vibrates for the fourth time.

"Shit. Who's calling?" - Jungkook curses.

"Let me give the phone for you." - You offer. Jungkook wants to say no, but you insist. "Just pick up the phone and us stop disturbed."

"Okay." - Jungkook agrees. You want to get off, but he stops you with his hands on your hips. "Don't get down. I'll lift you up." - He says. You raise your eyebrows and smile in surprise. How is this supposed to look?

Jungkook climbs to a small height and approaches the front seats. You lean back, holding on to his neck and fumbling for him phone, which keeps ringing. Jungkook sits back in the seat with you and you see who has been trying to call Jungkook all this time. You turn the phone back to him.

"Jimin." - You announce. Jungkook raises his eyebrows. It seems to be something very urgent. Because his calls are one after another and this is the fourth one.

"Yes." - Jungkook says, trying to sound normal and not breathless. You make a few movements to find a comfortable position for yourself. But Jungkook doesn't appreciate your gesture. He stops you with his hand, grabbing your ass.

"Why don't you pick up the phone, kid?" - You hear Jimin's irritated voice. "Kid" such a funny nickname. You laugh silently. Jungkook jabs you in the rib with his finger, which makes you raise your eyebrows in anger.

"I'm a little busy. Speak quickly." - Jungkook says, eager to finish what he started. "Ughh..." - His breath hits the last word as you start to move on his lap. He meets your sly look and thinks you're a real bitch. You smile, and make sharp and deep thrusts, driving his cock deeper into you. He almost dies holding back his moans because your movements give him too much pleasure.

"I need you at the main office. Something has happened with the delivery of medical equipment. The customer wants to return the goods. Namjoon doesn't know yet, but it's only a matter of time. So you should come to the office before he finds out." - Jimin says. Jungkook realizes that something is wrong. But he can't get a word out because you're swinging on his length. "Hey, are you listening to me?" - Jimin is worried because Jungkook doesn't respond.

"Yes." - Jungkook answers barely. Why the fuck did he even pick up that phone? Jungkook tries to stop you, but it seems impossible.

"Damn, you shameless are having sex during call phone?" - You hear Jimin say and freeze. How did he realize that? Did Jungkook's voice give it away?

"Yes, Hyung. I told you I was busy." - Jungkook laughs at being caught. Jimin laughs too.

"You should finish up, because you're in big trouble." - Jimin says with a laugh. He speaks as if he's not talking about the problems that await Jungkook.

"I heard you. I'll be there in 20 minutes." - Jungkook says in a firmer voice.

"Isn't that Y/N taking care of you?" - Your friend asks. Your eyes get big. Does Jimin know about them? You look up at Jungkook, frightened. He seems to understand what you're thinking and shakes his head in denial.

"If I fuck Y/N, you'll be the first to know, Hyung. That's it, I have unfinished business." - Jungkook says and hangs up. You want to protest Jimin's words, but Jungkook doesn't let you. He squeezes your hips hard and grabs your neck. He pulls you sharply closer to him and speaks to you almost threateningly.

"You little bitch. I almost died while I was on the phone." - Jungkook says into your lips. His voice is low and dangerous, and you get aroused by the tone. This Jungkook is something completely new. Usually he is gentle and attentive. But now, with his menacing look...

"It was hard for me to restrain myself." - You say in your defense.

"If that's the case, I do it either." - Jungkook threatens. You smile bravely.

"Then go ahead. Fuck me properly." - You asking for. But it sounds more like an order. Jungkook is pleasantly surprised by your behavior during sex today. You were so shy at first, but now you're ordering him to fuck you. You'll get what you want.

"Your word is law." - Jungkook says and he bites down on your lips ruthlessly. Your head is spinning. You can feel Jungkook's irritation and it amuses you. But when he grabs you, squeezing your hips with force, and starts pounding you with his hips, you're not so amused. His thrusts are deep. You feel some unknown sensation before. It drives you crazy and you can't help but scream. You dig your nails into Jungkook's back to relieve these feelings. It's something completely wild and dizzy.

Jungkook reaches your uterus with his cock. He's so deep inside you, and he's fucking your cunt so hard. It's just pure ecstasy. Jungkook knows you came because your walls are clenching around his cock. He feels his balls tense, he's ready to come. One last deep thrust and he releases right into the condom.

You fall helplessly on his shoulder. You feel the car smell of sex and expensive perfume. You breathe in Jungkook's scent and hear your ears buzzing. You've never had an orgasm like this before. Even though you've only been having sex for a short time, this was the best orgasm you've ever had.

Jungkook's breathing is fast and ragged. It takes you a while to come to your senses. When you lift your head, still sitting on Jungkook's lap with his soft cock inside you, you smile at him. He's smiling back, too.

"Fuck, Jungkook, that was amazing." - You praise him. He snorts.

"Is that praise I hear?" - He asks and uses his fingers to brush your hair away from your face.

"It's not a sin to praise you for sex like that. But I can't sit like this anymore." - You grimace, feeling your legs go numb. "I don't think I'll be able to sit for a week."

Jungkook helps you down and sits down next to you, supporting you. You look for your underwear and put them on, wrinkling your nose a little.

"Was I too rude?" - Jungkook is worried. You pay attention to him and notice his concern.

"I was just joking. I liked it." - You assure Jungkook. But he doesn't seem to believe you.

"But I fucked you hard, are you sure it didn't hurt?" - He won't calm down. You flick your tongue.

"It's okay, Jungkook. I'm not in any pain." - You reach for him and kiss him lightly on the lips. It works and Jungkook finally relaxes. He also puts on his boxers and then pulls on his pants.

You get dressed quickly, Jungkook cleans up the car and starts the engine.

"I'm sorry, baby. We'll definitely come here this weekend to eat." - Jungkook apologizes. You weren't too upset that you didn't eat chicken today. Instead, you got something much better.

Jungkook drives you to the mall so that you can meet Suyoung and buy gifts for your parents. On the way, he checks his phone and you realize that he is getting irritated. He's reading some texts, but you don't look at his phone. It wouldn't be nice to do that.

"Is everything okay?" - You ask in hope. Jungkook locks the phone and throws it on the dashboard.

"Not really." - Is all Jungkook says. You want to ask him more, but you stop yourself in time. Jungkook needs to focus on solving the problem at hand, and you don't want to distract him. You stop talking, and there's silence between you for the rest of the ride.

Jungkook parks not far from the subway station. He smiles at you lightly and you smile back.

"Are you going to be late again tonight?" - You ask. He looks at you guiltily.

"I think so. So don't wait for me." - Jungkook says. He reaches out to kiss you, but you stop him in a panic.

"What are you doing? What if Suyoung sees us?" - You say.

"She doesn't know this car." - Jungkook counters your assumption.

"This car attracts attention. So she might see you and me." - You comment.

"Okay then, no kissing goodbye." - Jungkook says and sits up straight. For a moment, you regret not kissing Jungkook's lips, but then you come to your senses.

Everything between you is becoming lighthearted. There are no boundaries. You act like a couple, but you're not dating. You are friends with benefits. This must be kept under control. You should tell Jungkook that you need to set some rules. But Jimin calls him again and Jungkook already assures him that he's on his way.

You hurriedly leave Jungkook's car. You look in the wake and it only now dawns on you that Jimin is working with Jungkook. Why didn't they ever tell you that? And then there's this guy Namjoon. He seems to be Jungkook's boss.

You went to the mall because Suyoung was already there, and you remembered the conversation between Jungkook and Jimin.

It was a medical supply deal. Maybe Jungkook is a transportation safety coordinator? Or something like that.

It's strange that you've been friends with Jungkook for so many years and you've lived together for a long time, but you know almost nothing about his job. You realize that this work involves influential people. No matter how young Jungkook looks he fits in well with them. Although you know him as a simple, kind guy, as your best friend.

Jungkook picks up speed to get to the head office as soon as possible. He enters the underground parking lot and parks. He is angry because the deal he coordinated fell through. The fucking customer wants the product back.

Jungkook walks down a long corridor and finds himself on the 25th floor of the “Mono Corp” building.

He enters the office of "Director Park" and sees him at the window. He is on the phone.

"Yes, I got it. Please find out when this company was established. Dig up all the information on the supplier." - Jungkook hears what Jimin is saying. Jungkook's jaw is tense.

Jimin listens for a long minute and then hangs up. He turns back to his guest and runs his eyes over him.

"So who did you fuck on your lunch break?" - Jimin asks with undisguised curiosity. "My secretary?" - Jungkook raises his eyebrows.

"No, not your secretary." - He replies. And his mind is still fresh with your naked image sitting on his lap. And he can hear your groans in his ears. But Jungkook can't tell Jimin about you two. Besides, friends who know less sleep better. "You don't know her. We met on the Internet." - Jungkook lies. Jimin studies Jungkook's face for a few seconds and then turns away, walking to his desk. He sits down in his chair and grabs a pen. He twists it in his fingers to calm his nerves.

"I thought after that night you finally slept together with Y/N. Seriously Jungkook, she's so fucking hot, how can you just be friends with her?" -Jimin asks. Jungkook sits down on the couch and leans his arm over the back.

"Do you have your eye on her?" - Jungkook asks, trying to hide his jealousy.

"You'd have to be blind not to pay attention to her." - Jimin replies. Jungkook controls his facial expressions because he knows how well Jimin can read them. "But I'm not. I know you like her, so I'm not evaluating her as a potential partner. But it looks like Taehyung has his eye on her." - Jimin is lying to get some kind of reaction. Jungkook has a dispassionate expression on his face.

"Pfft, I wish him luck." - Jungkook just laughs. There it is. He's got him. Jimin knows what this "pfft" means. However he just will wait for his friend to admit that he's fucking his best friend.

"Why didn't you check the condition of the equipment before offering it to the customer?" - Jimin asks seriously, moving on to the business for which he called Jungkook.

"I checked it myself." - Jungkook says with the same serious tone.

"All 20 devices are defective. The customer wants a refund. And that's 50 million dollars for a minute." - Jimin states.

"I know the amount because I coordinated this order." - Jungkook says calmly. "But I'm telling you that I checked the serviceability of all the machines. I don't understand what could have happened..."

"I checked the logistics company Ironline Transport that the DVSS vehicles were traveling through, and guess what? This company is a subsidiary of “PrimeRoute Logistics”"- Jimin smiles.

"That's Doohoon's father's company!" - Jungkook boils with anger. "But does the contract say “Ironline Transport”? We signed the contract with a different company." - Jungkook says.

"No, the contract says subsidiary." - Jimin argues.

"I remember exactly how I read it from top to bottom and there was no such word as 'transport' in the name of the carrier company." - Jungkook recalls. "How did “Ironline Transport” get there?"

"That was my question to you." - Jimin says. Jungkook falls silent. There is definitely a mistake here. Obviously, someone forged the documents. He's in serious trouble, and he's betting his head that Doohoon is involved. "Either way, needs told all to Namjoon. But first, we'll investigate. I'm more than sure that your old friend is up to the same trick again. He likes to set you up."

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