#he can do whatever he wants but I don’t want him in my house anymore

[chaconnehoonie]

Obsession-(follow up) L.HS

✶ Heeseung X Fem! Reader

->This is a follow up to the first part, but you may read it alone if you please, reading the first part is just recommended to get the full story.

Synopsis- Your relationship with Heeseung proves that sometimes you’re forced to make commitments and sacrifices for those you love.

WC: 3.4k

Warnings: toxic relationship, cursing, insecurity, derogatory terms, smut, angst

Smut warnings: dub-con(?), oral(m) somnophilia, kissing, unprotected sex, spanking, rough sex, orgasm denial

A/N: I know I posted the first part to this a while ago but I felt so disappointed with it that I wanted to write something to follow up with. I’m also terrible with my writing schedule so hopefully this will get me back in the game, enjoy!

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are like this in real life, MDNI!

Heeseung was trying to be a good boyfriend. Sure, there are moments where he frustrates you or makes you question your relationship. But relationships are all about making commitments, right?

You’re committed to Heeseung- of course you’ll do whatever it takes to be with him. You’ll put up with his mood swings or his trust issues, accepting that he may just be a naturally jealous person.

He makes it hard, though, as he’s too jealous sometimes. He always has trouble believing you only have eyes for him, whether it’s when a stranger is checking you out at a party or you’re being too close for his liking with your best friends—who just so happen to be guys.

God, you love your friends, but it’s clear that Heeseung doesn’t. You don’t expect him to, of course, however you expect him to accept your close bonds with all three of them. They were existent in your life before him, after all.

You can’t bring this up around him though, as he gets quiet each time, stuck in his thoughts and fears of you leaving him. Being the understanding girlfriend you are, you decided to show him just how special he is to you.

✶.

Heeseung sits alone on the couch in your living room, mindlessly scrolling through Netflix in search for new movies or series to start. Since the beginning of your relationship, you both decided on having movie nights every Friday; cuddling up on the couch together with a warm blanket and a plethora of snacks.

You haven’t come home yet, sending him a quick message to let him know you’d be stopping by a grocery store for snacks, then you’ll speed home to see him.

He sits there and waits, grabbing a bag of chips to munch on, watches trailers for new horror movies with stupid plots and terrible actors, then waits some more.

What’s taking you so long? It’s not like you would stand him up, it’s not like you can stand him up—he’s in your house, anyways. Maybe the checkout line is taking too long. Maybe you stopped to buy some alcohol too, or what if that’s what you were planning but forgot your ID in the car?

What if he’s actually going the wrong rout and you had gotten into an accident? Or decided you didn’t like him anymore and wanted to sneak off with someone else before seeing him tonight- “Baby?”

Heeseung jumps at the sound of your voice, quickly turning around to see you shutting the front door, hanging your keys and slipping off your shoes. He had been so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t even hear the front door opening.

Your face holds a concerned look, rounding the couch and placing your bags next to Heeseung before dropping to your knees in front of him. “You okay? What happened?” Your hands gently caressed his knees in hopes to comfort him, knowing he’s a sucker for physical touch.

He only shakes his head and pulls you to sit next to him. “Nothing, pretty. I just really missed you.” His voice sounds unsure, but you decided to accept his answer, knowing he hates being pushed to open up.

“I missed you too, cutie. I actually bought something I want to show you.” You peck his nose and his eyes light up in excitement. “I need to go prepare it in my room, but I’ll be back out before you know it.” You smile at him and he nods quickly. “I have to use the bathroom anyways. Perfect timing, I guess.”

You place a soft kiss on his upper lip before grabbing one of your bags and rushing upstairs while Heeseung makes his way to the bathroom. He takes a long look at himself, analyzing his features and taking note of how much better he’s been looking since he’s gotten with you. He’s taken care of himself more, focusing on eating healthier and getting haircuts more often, as well as doing some skincare and shaving his facial hair.

He really feels better with you, smiling to himself in the mirror when he realizes that he’s truly in love with you. He loves you—and he hopes you feel the same way.

After flushing the toilet and leaving the tap running for a minute, Heeseung makes his way out of the bathroom, pausing when he sees you wrapped up in your blanket, waiting for him on the couch.

Walking up hesitantly, he smiles anxiously at you. “What did you wanna-“ he’s cut off when you throw the blanket off of yourself, sat prettily with the most delicate lingerie adorning your body.

Black lace cups your breasts with thin straps hardly covering your shoulders, matching black lace panties sitting high and tight on your hips as the fat of your hips and butt jut out around the material.

Heeseung stands in front of you stiffly, mouth hung open and eyes locked on your figure. Siting up, you reach a hand towards his face and place it under his chin, gently forcing his jaw shut.

“Do you like it?” Your voice is soft and sultry, provoking him to finally touch you. He strokes your head, feeling your soft hair under his fingertips. He’s so in love with you— just that touch sends blood straight to the weight between his legs and he’s suddenly too weak to stand.

Sitting on the couch, he pulls you onto his lap without breaking eye contact. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You giggle and cup his cheek, pulling him into a kiss that only lasts a second as he’s murmuring against your lips. “Yes- fuck, yes.”

You gasp when he pinches one of your nipples through your thin lacy bra. Pushing his tongue into your mouth, he plays with your own in a mess of drool and moans, all while rocking your hips against his.

He pulls away to moan loudly, resting his head on the back of the couch. “I’m glad you like it.” You kiss his neck, licking his jaw slowly before sucking a mark into his skin.

“The boys helped me pick it out.”

His eyes shoot open at this, quickly sitting up and looking you in the eyes. “The boys?” He furrows his brows, confused, but also hurt. You let the boys-Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon, not only see you in lingerie but pick it out? For your boyfriend to see later on?

“What do you mean they helped you pick it out? Like you went to the store together and let them chose it? They seen you in it?” He sounds like he’s going to cry, voice cracking but there’s also a hint of anger.

You nod, eyes wide and worried. “Well, yes. I asked for their opinions because they’re also guys, you know? I thought that’d be the best way to figure out what you’d like…” you trail off as you take note of the irritation appearing on his face.

He finds no point in complaining, no reason to explain why he’s so hurt. Instead, he pushes you off of his lap rather harshly and you land on the soft cushions with a quiet ‘oof’. Of course he didn’t mean to be so aggressive, but with the way he stomps to the front door and angrily grabs his keys, slamming the door shut as he leaves, you can’t help but tear up at his angry demeanor.

Was he really that upset? Over your friends helping pick out a gift, for him? Sure, maybe you didn’t have to wear the lingerie while showing them but Heeseung should know by now that your relationship with your friends is nothing more than platonic.

Deciding you’re too heart broken after being left so alone and exposed, you head to bed early. Well, not exactly early if 11pm was anything to go by, definitely too late for Heeseung to randomly leave and expect you not to worry, but early enough for you to sleep off the mental pain and end up in a better mood in the morning.

✶.

You wake up as an odd weight hits your cheek, repeatedly tapping on your face as you feel the warmth radiating onto your skin. Your eyes open slowly, blinking a few times to fully wake yourself up.

It’s still dark, but you can make out the silhouette of someone standing uncomfortably close to you. Taking in a sharp breath, you turn to your alarm clock and note that it’s around 2am, quickly reaching to turn on the bedside lamp.

The light flickers on and Heeseung groans, quickly reaching his own hand to switch it back off. While he does that, you notice the way he’s fully clothed, save for his hard-on that’s currently face-to-face with you, peeking out from above his sweatpants.

“What-“ you’re cut off as he places a finger upon your lips, slipping it between them and into your mouth to tug your jaw open. You can’t tell what he’s doing with the lights off, but you don’t wonder for long as you suddenly feel his tip entering your mouth, sliding against your tongue.

You’re stiff, laying there in shock as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure, biting his lip with a groan. Heeseung has grown to be more comfortable around you, no longer trying to impress you in order to get you to like him, yet instead trying to impress you to get you to keep liking him—always outdoing himself to prove he’s worth your love.

However, he’s still shy at times, especially intimate times, so seeing him fully take control of you, take advantage of your sleeping figure, is new to you. It’s kind of arousing, but after what happened earlier you just can’t get yourself to enjoy it.

Especially with the way he grips the back of your head and shoves himself fully into your throat, holding you there until you gag and drool onto the ground. The position is awkward; he’s standing in front of you while you’re laying on your side, head hovering off the bed just enough to miss the sheets as your spit strings onto the wooden floor.

He lets out a deep moan, mumbling to himself about how wet and warm your mouth is, but not directly speaking to you. How could he speak to you after what you pulled earlier? Why would you deserve praise for going out and prancing around like that with your friends, basically slutting yourself out for them?

What you do deserve is the harsh thrusts of his hips as he fucks your mouth, pulling your hair harshly as he keeps your head in place while his cock suffocates you. You try to breathe through your nose, but you only choke and whine around him as tears blur your vision, not like you can see much in the dark, anyways.

He groans louder, thrusts harder, grips harder, all while you lay there and take it. He lets out a particularly loud moan as he pulls your head towards him, shoving your face far enough to touch your nose to his pubic bone, and then he’s cumming down your throat.

His hips are still as he twirls strands of your hair between his fingers, holding you in place as his release fills your mouth.

Finally pulling out, he breathes heavily before stuffing himself back into his sweats. He makes his way to the bathroom, situating himself before coming back to bed and wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close enough to be his little spoon. It confuses you, but you’d rather have this than have him stay angry at you.

“Thank you, pretty.”

✶.

The next day goes by smoothly, Heeseung acts completely normal when he goes to work for a couple hours, then coming home as you prepare lunch.

You’re glad he has work early enough for him to be done by the afternoon, but sometimes you wish he could stay in bed with you just a little longer than leaving at 5am, but at least he gets to come back at 1pm and spend the rest of the day how he pleases. You quickly learn though, that today he decides to use the day as he pleases by pleasing himself.

As you put ramen to boil and chop vegetables, humming a random song to yourself, you hear the front door shut. It doesn’t slam, so you know Heeseung isn’t angry, at least not enough to show it.

He walks up behind you, grabbing onto your waist and you smile, turning around for a kiss. He grips your chin, turning your face back to the counter and speaks lowly in your ear. “Keep chopping.” His voice is stern and you know he’s serious.

You hesitantly pick up the knife again, slowly cutting the vegetables as he pulls down your pants, panties going along with them, leaving you bare and exposed for him. It was only last night he was using you for himself, maybe he’s repaying the favor?

That idea is quickly shut down as you feel his tip prodding at your not very wet entrance, wincing at the stretch of the head doing its best to make its way between your folds. Of course you’ve both have had sex without foreplay before, but that was after a while of kissing and obvious arousal.

This time, he fills you up dry with only his precum coating your walls. You whine at the pain, stepping closer to the counter in an attempt to get away from him, but he only manhandles you back towards him.

Pulling out to the tip, he gives you a second to breathe before he pushes himself all the way back in, continuing with rough thrusts. He lands a loud slap to your ass, leaning forward and biting onto your shoulder. You cry out in pain, trying to take his cock the best you can while he uses you once again.

He’s fucking you, skin to skin, so that must mean he’s not upset anymore. You try to convince yourself as he thrusts harder, hands bruising your waist and hips as his knuckles turn white from holding you so tight.

He’s more vocal this time, moaning into your ear as you bounce between him and the counter top, knife now laying further away from you and vegetables roll off the counter, landing with a hard thud on the floor.

You moan as he picks up the pace almost inhumanly fast, wet sounds showing signs that you’re finally aroused enough, the slide of his cock against your walls is no longer painful.

He pushes your upper half forward more, fully bending you over the counter as he lands a harsh slap against your ass, echoing through the kitchen along with your high pitched moans.

His thighs slap against the back of your own, wet and covered in slick as you can’t hold back the squelching noises your pussy makes while being stuffed full.

“Oh God, Hee…” You whine but he’s tired of hearing you, placing his palm over your mouth to muffle your moans. “I don’t wanna hear it.” This confuses you, mainly because he’s always loved hearing your noises—proof that he’s pleasing you right. But now, he suddenly doesn’t want to hear them? Going as far as covering your mouth to shut you up?

Even with this hurt side of you, the pleasure is undeniable and before you can process it, you’re close to orgasm as Heeseung lands another harsh slap against your ass.

“Hee-baby, I’m gonna cum!” You pant heavily, inhaling a deep breath in preparation for your orgasm, only for it to be taken away from you. “No you’re not.” Heeseung slides his wet cock out of you, instead spreading your ass and pushing himself between your cheeks.

You scoff, now frustrated and in pain, wondering if this is what blue balls must feel like. You try to reach back and slide him back in, but he grips your wrist, pulling both of your arms back so your cheek lands harshly onto the counter top. Wincing, tears start pricking your eyes and you try to squirm away from him.

“Not letting you…d-don’t deserve to cum.” He grits through his teeth, pushing your butt cheeks together tightly as he thrusts, still keeping his fast pace.

Leaning forward, he rests his forehead between your shoulder blades, finally releasing as ropes of cum spurt out of his tip, landing across your back and staining your shirt, some reaching your hair to find in a sticky mess later.

You’re both panting, catching your breaths after whatever kind of rough, angry sex session that was. Still confused, you try to turn around, calling out to your quiet boyfriend. “Heeseung…” your voice is soft and comforting, and as much as he wants to accept it, he just keeps you turned around.

“Just- don’t.” That’s all he says before tucking himself back into his jeans and walking upstairs. The bathroom door shuts, still not slamming, but you can now tell that he is definitely still angry at you.

✶.

“So, what? He’s upset that we helped you and now you guys are having hot steamy hate sex?” Jake laughs to himself, taking a bowl of ramen from Sunghoon. A bowl of ramen you cooked for Heeseung.

You sigh, playing with your own ramen as you push it around the bowl with your chopsticks. “Yeah…I was cooking this when he came home and he just…did that.” You trail off at the end, not wanting to go into detail because no matter how good it felt, you were still hurt.

“Waitwaitwait.” Jay mutters with his mouth full, swallowing harshly before speaking again. “This ramen doesn’t have a special ingredient, right? His cum shot didn’t fly into here and now I’m consuming his babies?”

“Dude! What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Come on- I’m trying to eat here!”

“You’re actually disgusting.”

Sunghoon gags as he imagines the scene playing out, downing his glass of water to calm himself. You pat him on the back as he keeps gagging, mainly to piss off Jay who now regrets what he said.

“Okay, Hoon. You can stop now, I get it.” Jay rolls his eyes, picking up his beer bottle and taking a sip while sending glares towards his friend.

Your face drops to your palms, sighing again as you think about these past two days. “He left like an hour before I invited you guys over.” You speak up, eyes teary as you bite your lip. “He didn’t eat…didn’t say goodbye…he just left.” You break down, a sob escaping your lips at the thought of your boyfriend leaving you so alone and embarrassed.

“Do you know what this means?” Sunghoon places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly to ease your tension. You shake your head no, confused as to what he’s implying.

He sighs, looking between Jake and Jay, then back at you. “This means you’re going to have to choose.” Your eyes widen, shaking your head more aggressively now.

“What do you mean choose?” You can’t believe they’d recommend something like this. “You know, choose if you want to stay with him. Let him treat you like that, let him get away with those things.”

He grabs your hand, keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Or you can choose to stay with us. Keep being our friend, let us save you from this disaster.” His words hurt, but you know they must be true. “He just…” you inhale a shaky breath, “He just needs time. We’ll figure something out.”

Yeah, that’ll fix it. You’ll figure out a way to keep Heeseung happy and stay close to your best friends. Hopefully, without cutting any ties or creating an awkward atmosphere. But you’ll do whatever it takes to keep each of your boys happy.

[goodlookingforagirl]

Not to trauma dump on main but I’m fucking heartbroken and can’t take this shit much longer!!!!!!!!

[icterid-rubus]

My family went to florida and I’ve been dog and house sitting and hosting my brother for two weeks and taking my cat to the vet and finally my brother is gone and the cat is okay* and I have 24 hours until my doctor appointment and 48 until the family is back and I’m chugging beers sitting back trying to fit two weeks of relaxation into one evening and it’s not working but I’m tipsy and throwing my head back and wanting to make bad choices yeeeaaaaaah boooooooiiiii!!!!

[adriennebarnes]

hi! i loved Drive Thru Test and i was wondering if you'd actually write charles calling y/n his girlfriend and then her not wearing the ring. i think that would just be really funny and he'd be so cute whining. im not trying to rush you and I'd be happy to wait for the fic!

Hi! Yes, it would be very funny because i don’t think Charles realizes that he proposed to a Drama Queen. I don’t know if it turned out like you wanted it to but I really hope you like it!

Fiancé Girlfriend

Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: After a month of being engaged, Charles isn’t used to calling Y/N his fiancé, and accidentally calls her his girlfriend AGAIN. Y/N being true to her words, decides to stop wearing her ring.

Warning: the usual spelling and grammatical errors, VERY bad photoshop.

A/N: I am on my period and it SUCKS, i haven’t been able to get much sleep sadly and i really want chocolate and there’s no chocolate in my house 😩 also, if I were to ever give Charles and Y/N a dog in my fanfics, it will not be Leo since he is a Saint Mleux as well, not just a Leclerc

(His face when he realized he messed up)

Y/N was in the paddock at the Monaco Grand Prix, she had to be there for Charles’s home race. She was happy she did, Charles got P1, Max P2, and Lando P3. Charles kissed her when he got out of the car, she saw his podium ceremony, literally the best GP she’s been to, nothing could mess up her mood. She was in the hospitality snacking on whatever they were offering her while watching the post race interview on the TV and something happened.

“So Charles, we saw you kissing Y/N after your big Home Race win, how long have you guys been together?” The interviewer asked.

“Yes, my girlfriend and I have been together for 5 years.” Charles said and his eyes widened. Max and Lando were also looking at him like ‘ooh, she’s gonna kill you’ “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant..” Charles started but the interviewer ignored him and started asking Max and Lando questions.

Y/N was in shock, how dare Charles call we his girlfriend on live television. So Y/N did what any normal person would do, she took off her ring and placed it securely in the inside pocket of her purse.

Charles in the other hand was panicking after the interview.

“Okay, try not to panic.” Lando said.

“That ship has sailed, Lando. I’m panicking, I’m fucking panicking!” Charles was paving around the room.

“There’s probably a good chance she didn’t see the post race interview.” Lando said.

“And if she did? I already called her my girlfriend once, you know what she said she would do if I do it again? Take off her ring.” Charles said.

“Maybe she was bluffing, she wouldn’t actually go through with that, she loves you too much. I have never seen a couple love each other so much.” Max said and Charles smiled.

“You’re right, Max, she loves me, she’d never take off the ring.” Charles said. He left the room to go to the hospitality and saw Y/N eating fries. “Mon ange! Did you see the interview?”

“Muñeco! Yes I did.” Y/N said.

“I am so sorry, I really am.” Charles takes Y/N’s hand in his and noticed something was missing. “Mon ange, where’s your ring?”

“What ring, muñeco?” Y/N asked, feigning innocence.

“Your ring, your engagement ring, where is it?” Charles asked.

“Charles, I don’t know what you are talking about, why would I have a ring? It’s not like I’m your fiancé or anything, I’m just your girlfriend.” Y/N said and Charles pouted.

“I’m sorry! I swear I am so very sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Charles begged for forgiveness.

“Let’s go home, muñeco, can we order in?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah sure, anything you want, mon coeur.” Charles said. They were walked to the car and as soon as they got in, Charles expected Y/N to put her ring back on since they are not ‘in public’ anymore but she didn’t, the ring was still off. “So mon ange, have you been thinking about when would you want the wedding?”

“Wedding? What wedding? We’re not even engaged, Charles.” Y/N said. You know the saying ‘if they go low, I go lower’? Y/N is going as low as the depths of hell for a slip of the tongue.

“Mon ange, is not funny anymore.” Charles whined.

“Did you order food?” Y/N asked.

“Yes I did, we’re picking it up.” Charles said.

“Cool.” Y/N said.

The drive to the restaurant and back home was silent.

“Okay, we’re back home now.” Charles said as they entered the apartment.

“Yes muñeco, Im aware.” Y/N said but she still didn’t put her ring back on.

“Mon ange please wear your ring.” Charles begged, wrapping his arms around her waist, her back to his chest. “Please, I promise to announce our engagement on Instagram.” Charles kisses her neck. “Please just wear the ring, I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, you are the best fiancé a man could ever have.” Charles whispered in her ear as he places little neck kisses.

Y/N turned around and saw Charles pouring with teary eyes and she felt her heart melt.

“Aw muñeco, okay, I’ll wear my ring. But promise the whole world will know we are engaged. I love that you want your friends and family to know first, but it hurts me when you still call me your girlfriend.” Y/N said and Charles kisses her forehead.

“I know, mon ange. We’re going to let the whole world know that you’re my fiancé.” Charles kissed her passionately.

Liked by pierregasly and 830,659 others

charles_leclerc after years of dating, I proposed to the love of my life on our 5th anniversary. I love her so much, I am thankful for having her in my life. We have been engaged for a month and I am so happy that I get to call her my fiancé, the future Mrs. Leclerc, I love you 😘.

View all 9,235 comments

landonorris happy for you mate, so glad she didn’t kill you

charles_leclerc you and be both 😳

maxverstappen1 happy for you mate!

carlossainz55 congratulations, cabrón! I expect invite to the wedding

yourusername aww, muñeco, I love you too, I can’t wait to be Mrs. Leclerc 🥹

francisca.cgomes let me be a bridesmaid!

yourusername you’re maid of honor!

user45 no wonder Charles looked nervous after his pst race interview

yourusername posted a story

charles_leclerc replied

Can’t wait to be your husband 😘

The End

Hope y’all liked it! It was a little short but fun to write!

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Dutch Courage

Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.

Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption, curse words

Masterlist

The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.

And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.

Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.

Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”

Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.

“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”

“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”

Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 

It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”

Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”

“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.

“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.

“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 

They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 

Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.

Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”

“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.

Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.

Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.

Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.

The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.

It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.

Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.

“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.

“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 

“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.

Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”

Even though the comment is not that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, nearly toppling over.

The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.

When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.

Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 

Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.

He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.

Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.

Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.

“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.

Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.

When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.

“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm..

Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.

Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.

At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.

They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 

Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.

When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 

She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.

[verstappen-cult]

Having an argument with Max, sounds exhausting. Especially when both of you are stubborn, but guess what? He'd willingly beg for forgiveness if you are still upset with him and avoiding him as a result of the argument

“I can’t do this anymore.” You whisper, shaking your head and taking a step back. 

That is what finally makes Max stop dead in his tracks, mouth hanging open with whatever he was going to say next. 

You’re tired. You woke up less than an hour ago and the first thing you and Max did was argue. And you really didn’t want to start the day this way, but neither of you backed away. Things escalated quickly and you just can’t do it anymore. 

“What are you talking about?” He sounds desperate, his chest heaving. Max clenches his fists by his side, like he wants to reach out. 

You turn your head away, eyes filled with tears. “I’m gonna go see my mother. We’ll talk later.” 

Max feels paralyzed, he can’t seem to do anything but watch you leave. 

*

It’s past eight when you get home. 

The first thing you notice is that the house is lit only by candles. A lot of candles throughout the house. 

Max is nowhere to be seen, Jimmy and Sassy are the ones greeting you by passing between your legs. You bend over to pat their heads and give them a few ear scratches. 

The more you walk into the house, the more your heart breaks. There on the table is a big bouquet of your favorite flowers along with a small card with the word ‘sorry’ written in Max’s handwriting waiting for you. The table is also set with the chinaware you only use on special occasions, and a few more candles. 

When you turn around you see Max curled up on the sofa, your favorite weighted blanket —the one you use when you’re feeling down and Max is away for work— around his shoulders. He looks so cozy, you want to curl up next to him, but you are still a little hurt and angry from the argument you two had in the morning. You’re thinking about what you both said to each other when Max stirs, eyes trying to adjust to seeing in the dim light. 

“Hey,” You say as a greeting, trying not to scare him. 

Max turns around immediately, surprise crossing his features. “You’re home.”

“Yes? Sorry I didn’t say anything but mom wanted me to help her with gardening.” You shrug, leaving your bag and keys on the table next to the couch. 

“I didn’t think you’d come back.” His voice is barely a whisper, but you hear him anyway. Max exhales deeply, clutching the blanket tightly around his shoulders. 

“What?”

“I’m so sorry.” He blurts out, shoulders slumped. Max shuts his eyes tightly, like he’s in so much pain he can barely have them open. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I should’ve listened to you—I’m really sorry. I don’t want us to argue like that again, I felt horrible because I love you and I promised myself I would never do something like this.” You let him talk, to spill everything he has inside of him. “After you left—I wanted to go after you but I knew you needed time. But it made me remember how my dad used to talk to my mom, how they would yell at each other while Vic and I hid in our rooms.” You are already moving towards him, even before you hear how his voice breaks. 

You sit by his side, leaving some space between you two, hands itching to reach out and touch him, to draw him closer to you and hold him. 

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“You’re nothing like him,” You move closer, taking his hands with yours, thumb caressing the back of them. “Don’t you ever dare to go there, okay? You will never be like him, Max. Do you understand?” 

But he doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t say anything. 

“Max, this is not the first and it’s definitely not going to be the last argument we have. But if we talk about it, if we give ourselves some time to think things through like we did today—this doesn’t mean you are a bad person, or that you are turning into your dad.” You cup his cheek with one of your hands, caressing his cheekbone as you look into his stormy blue eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” He says again, tears in the corners of his eyes. You smile softly at him when he begs for your forgiveness again. 

“Can you forgive me too?” 

“Darling, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“Well, you’re wrong there.” You sniff, already feeling the tears wanting to stream down your face. “We were both wrong, don’t take all the blame.” Max opens his mouth to refute, but you shut him up with a kiss. It’s chaste, full of promises, and leaves you with blood pounding in your ears. 

“Do you forgive me?”

Max nods, gaze fixed on your lips. “Yes,” He directs his gaze back to your eyes, and you can see so much regret in them. “Do you forgive me?” 

“I don’t know,” You tease him by pretending to think about it. “it depends on what you made for dinner.”

A grin spreads across his face and he’s standing up in a second, tugging on your sleeve. “It’s definitely gonna make you forgive me.” He says, pulling the chair out for you to sit. “And if this doesn’t work, I have many other ways to make you forgive me.”

[darkroomkisses]

Uh, can I request a dark!ethan with quinn's scene in the bathroom but instead of her being the reader, where gf!ethan is waiting for her to fuck her w non-con. Thank you!

hope it is understood, English is not my first language

Rejected (Dark!Ethan Landry x Reader)

A/N: Oh spicy! Yes, pretty sure I understand you! I hope this is to your liking, I changed some stuff from the scene in the movie. Danny doesn't see ghostface in the room. Went a little darker toward the end (oops) Thanks Anon <3

Pairing: Dark!Ethan Landry x Reader

Summary: After rejecting Dark!Ethan when he asks you on a date, he's angry enough to kill. So he does just that, he kills your hookup and fucks you after. READ TAGS!

Warnings: NON-CON,SMUT, Dark!Ethan Landry, Ghostface Ethan Landry, fem!reader, Murder, Choking, Unconscious reader, Dacryphilia, Possessive!Ethan, Jealous!Ethan, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, marking, biting, Face Slapping, slight slut-shaming. Don't read if uncomfortable with dark themes, other than that ENJOY!! 🥀

Banner by @straywords 🥀

Ethan has been obsessed with you from the moment he met you. Whenever he would come over to the apartment you shared with Sam and Tara, he would watch you so intensely, some of the times you noticed but it didn’t bother you too much, but it made you a little uneasy.

His eyes were so dark and fierce you felt like your skin might set ablaze. His eyes never leave you when you all hang out. All that ran through his mind was wrapping his hands around your neck watching you shiver under him as he forced himself in you. He wanted to look into your fearful eyes and see sweet tears running down your pretty face. 

About a month ago, Ethan mustered up the courage to ask you on a date, you giggled at his shy attempt to ask you out and rubbed his face, telling him you only see him as a friend. Those words haven’t left his mind since only playing on repeat as he laid in bed every night.  

It was late in the evening, The house lively with the gang spending time together in the kitchen, completely distracted from what was going down in the other room.

That was perfect for Ethan, he was preparing for his attack, hiding away in your closet. He was ready to kill the loser who just fucked you in two pumps leaving you disappointed and needy for more. Ethan was seething with rage because what the fuck did this fucker have that he didn’t? The fucker didn’t even make you cum. His cock half hard thinking about what he wanted to do to you. The fucker went into the bathroom leaving you alone in the bedroom. You slipped your nightgown back on and pulled out your phone, turning to the side. Ethan couldn’t wait anymore.

“Babe, you coming to join me?” The guy yelled from the bathroom; you met him earlier that night at a frat party, he was cute, and you were drunk. You put your phone down for a second to respond “No and don’t use my face wash it’s pH-balance for women” you yell, “yeah whatever you say” he yells back. You go back to your phone, giggling at the video you were watching. Unaware of the dark figure looming over you, after a few seconds of Ethan running his eyes over your figure, his fingers twitching desperately wanting to touch you. He slipped out of your room to kill that loser in the bathroom.

Ethan finished the job, he sighed out, fuck it felt good to kill that alpha fucker who was a two-pump chump. But what he had planned next would feel even better. Ethan slipped back into your bedroom quietly to not disturb you. You hadn't moved from your position. Ethan leaned over you in a quick motion, hand over your mouth, all his bodyweight pinning you to the bed the blade was at your neck, the slightest pressure pushing into you.

Your eyes widen, you gear up to scream as you meet the big dark eyes of Ghostface. You started to cry, Ghostface just stared down at you, his hand tight on your face. You screamed against his hand, your body shaking with fear, you were going to be killed. Ghostface shook his blade in your face, shutting you up instantly.

Ethan smiled under the mask; happy his plan was playing out perfectly. His cock was hard and leaking already. You looked even more perfect than he pictured late at night when had his hand wrapped around his hard cock, getting off to the thought of you. Your eyes were puffy and red, your tears couldn’t stop falling. Ethan took his blade and ran it down your short nightgown, tearing it in half and exposing your bare body to him, your breathing started to speed up at the realization of what was about to happen.

You heard a quiet moan from Ghostface, your blood running cold. “Scream and I'll kill all your fucking friends in the kitchen” Ethan said in the Ghostface voice making you shiver. You couldn’t let your friends die because of you. You shook your head quickly. Ethan took his hand from your mouth to squeeze one of your boobs he leaned his head down to your neck, rutting against your core, it took everything in you to not throw up at the feel of his hands exploring your body and the heavy breathing in your ear made your stomach turn.

Once Ethan got his feel, his free hand moved down to your wet pussy, his gloved hand stroking all over. Ethan was surprised how wet you were, and it was all for him. Ethan hovered over you to get a better look at your wet core. Ethan let go of the knife to remove his gloves. He had to feel you properly against his skin. He returned his hand rubbing your clit, you let out a soft hum, Ethan snapped his head up to see your face. It was exquisite, your face twisted like you were trying to hold back your pleasure.

That twisted his desire to get you to make more pretty noises for him. He wanted to hear you cry out, with that he pushed his fingers deep into you, hard and fast. You let out a broken moan, whimpering for him to stop. “p..please stop, please” you pant, with your lips quivering. Ethan let out a half laugh. “Why would I stop when you feel so good?” he said rutting faster and making circles on your clit with his thumb, determined to make you cum...hard. “Fuck you feel so good y/n” Ethan moaned your name lewdly. Your eyes widen, your thoughts running a mile a minute now, trying to think who the fuck this was. You didn't have much time to think, your fear and arousal ramping up to another level, your orgasm threating to crash down on you.

Your legs start to shake, your back arches against him your chest raising, and he takes his other hand and grabs your boob squeezing so tight, he pinches your nipple, rolling it with his fingers. He wanted to bring your tit into his mouth and suck hard on your hard nipple.

You clenched down hard on his fingers, he’s breathing deep into your ear, encouraging you on. “Good girl, cum on my fucking fingers” Ethan growled into your ear. You came down from your high, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Between the crying and the orgasm that had you shaking uncontrollably you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Your head whipped to the side, your cheek stinging. “Wake up, we are not done yet” Ethan growls. His cock was painfully hard now, he needed to be inside you. Your eyes fluttered, Ethan grabbed your neck tightly he whimpered softly, fuck he wanted to do that all night. Ethan releases his hard cock with his free hand.

Your panic hits you like lighting you tried to squirm out of his grip but that only made Ethan more excited. He lines his cock up with your slit, Ethan rubs his cock up and down on your wetness. In one quick thrust, Ethan forces himself in you, he lets out a low moan, steadying himself, he felt like he was going to burst inside you. Ethan almost couldn’t contain himself and thrust hard a few times, this is the first time Ethan felt pussy this good, the only time, actually.

His hands choked you hard with each rock of his hips. “Fuck, you know how long I wanted to stick my cock deep Inside you?” Your head feels light, and you are barely able to register what he’s saying to you.

You reach up to tear his hands away, but you couldn’t find the strength. “Your pussy is fucking mine, only for me” Ethan pants as he drags his cock against your hot walls. “You’re so tight, I feel like I'm tearing you apart.” You could hear the smile in his voice, each word dripping with lust.

“I c-can’t-” you choke out before you feel yourself fading into unconsciousness. Ethan didn’t let go of your neck for a few seconds, watching you fall limp under him. Ethan pulled his mask off throwing it to the ground. Sweat beating down his face, his hair a wild mess. He stops his movement for a second hiking your knees to your chest so he can fuck deeper into your slick hole.

The only sounds that filled the room were Ethan’s desperate moans and groans and the wet sounds of him fucking sloppily into you. He kissed your lips roughly, moaning into your mouth. “You’re mine, you’re mine, all for me” Ethan chanted darkly. He moved his lips to your neck sucking and kissing the marks he left on you. He was so close; he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Ethan roughly grabbed your hips, making your back arch. He was gripping so tightly he definitely left marks. “Fuck baby, take my cum you little slut” Ethan pumped in you harshly one last time letting out a deep moan as he spilled inside you. Ethan slowly pulled out of you, watching your slit dip his cum.

Ethan kissed your lips softly, roaming his hands all over your soft limp body one more time. Finally, he sits up, tucking you under the covers. Ethan kisses your forehead and puts his mask back on before fleeing the room. You were out cold, breathing softly and completely unaware that your shy friend Ethan had attacked you and you never will know. 

[livingemkayde]

waterfront

neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: Rated 18+. CONSIDER THIS YOUR FUCKING COMMUNITY LABEL LOL. Minors please dni. Smut. unprotected p in v. age gap. Pet names. Dirty talk. Dom!joel. Oblivious ass reader's dad. Not proof read one bit (per usual). 

a/n: thank you so much for the recent love. you guys are honestly so funny - COMMENT ASK REQUEST PLEASE INTERACT WITH ME IM SO LONELY ON HERE. this lil mini series has really pushed me to write despite some…things (and by things—i actually have been getting a shit ton of hate on my din fic for some weird reason?? so im really happy this dbf corner of tumblr is very accepting cuz that was really making me feel…SAD LMFAO). also do you guys picture joel in this fic as game joel or hbo joel - i wanna know. please enjoy this token of my gratitude as always. 

wc: 4.5k

this is apart of my small dbf!joel mini series, read the previous parts here:

part i part ii

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“Fuck, Joel,” you mutter when you finally relax around him, your tight walls flutter at the feeling of his cock moving halfway out of you. When he pushes back in you see stars.  “That’s right honey —fuck— so good for me,” he pants, bottoming out again and setting a slow pace that punches each breath out of you. “Teasin’ me all day—couldn’t fuckin’ wait any longer.” 

“Sweetie? Have you seen the sunblock?” 

“Yeah dad, in the back bathroom!” you yell back from your room. 

It’s honestly unbelievable. 

Packing. 

You’re packing. 

For a weekend getaway at some beach house property one of Joel’s client’s offered him for the weekend.

Joel’s client. 

Joel Miller.

Who got down on his knees for you at your graduation barbecue. Who fingered you in the front seat of his pick-up truck when your dad was looking for you. 

Who refused to talk to you after that. Not like you were trying anyways. This had to stop. Especially since you and Liam have been talking more and he’s…nice. Boring—sure. But he’s what’s good for you. 

He even got you a job at some hardware store on the other side of town. 

Liam was keeping you company—no—keeping you busy. But not enough to stop the incessant thoughts of your middle aged neighbor who is—even worse—probably your dad’s only close friend. 

You tried to keep your distance. For your sake and Joel’s. You don’t want to know what’s going on in his mind anymore. All you know is he continually runs laps around yours. 

You can’t shake how he looked at the barbecue. How the sea of people parted for him like he was Moses, greeting him with strong handshakes and acrylic nails wrapping around his bicep. But even worse, you can’t stop thinking about how through all those people—he found your eyes first. 

You tried to convince yourself that maybe Joel was thinking the same thing you were. That this—whatever it is—was actually fucking ridiculous and had to stop. 

Because it did have to stop. But it never felt ridiculous to you, as much as you will yourself to believe. 

You tried to convince yourself that much when your hand was down your pants in the middle of the night. Something sounding a lot like Joel’s name on the tip of your tongue as you made yourself come. 

You aren’t sure if your dad has seen much of him either—saying something about how he was booked through the fourth of July weekend with a huge project he was working on with his brother. 

That’s why you were shocked when your dad came up to your room with a grin explaining he counted you in on the weekend getaway with Joel, Sarah, and the two of you. 

You were excited to see more of Sarah — she had really grown up in the time you were away. But with Sarah comes Joel, and you aren’t sure if the butterflies in your stomach were from anxiety or anticipation at that thought. 

A half a day after your dad told you to get packing, you’re in the backseat of Joel’s truck, Sarah at your side, while she talks everyone's ear off about something. You aren’t really paying attention because Joel can’t stop stealing glances at you in the rear view mirror—and let's be honest. You can’t stop either. 

“—so then she said to me that it was my fault. I mean can you believe that?” Sarah slaps your arm gently while finishing her story. 

She looks around the car for approval and the dads just shrug their shoulders. You give her a sympathetic look. 

“Sorry Sarah, sounds crazy,” you say, grabbing her hand. You—honest to god—tried to pay attention but there were so many names thrown out you couldn’t keep up. It didn’t help that the man in the driver's seat kept you up at night—almost every night—since the barbecue. 

“I know! But then Jackson was like okay with it so whatever,” she gives you a knowing look, finishing her story—don’t say anything else because my dad’s here.

“Boys,” your dad murmurs to Joel under his breath, but you catch it. 

You also catch Joel shaking his head in response, letting out a huff and a—

“Tell me ‘bout it.” 

You meet his eye through the rear view mirror and drop his gaze quickly. His knuckles go white on the steering wheel. 

You think you’re almost off the hook and maybe can get some rest but Sarah lets out the first of many—

“Are we almost there yet?” 

Four more of those and you arrive at a secluded beach house on the coast. Joel pulls up to the back of the house, you can see the deck which leads down to the beach. Sarah and your dad hop out of the truck hastily—excited to see the house, and enter through the back door. It leaves you and Joel in the car together. Alone, for a few uncomfortable seconds until he finally speaks. 

“You alright?” 

It throws you for a loop. Joel Miller asking if you’re okay? You must be dying. You look at him through the mirror, an eyebrow raising. 

“‘M fine,” you reply back, monotone.

“Do you wanna talk?” 

Another surprise. 

“There’s nothing to talk about. You made that clear,” you huff, putting an emphasis on you so maybe he can start to feel an ounce of what you do. 

He gets out of the car but you don’t move from your position. Your dad and Sarah have disappeared into the house, undoubtedly claiming the best bedrooms and rifling through the owner’s things. 

He opens your door, his hand hanging off the top of it while his other braces himself on the car near your head. He dips his head closer to you, taking up the entirety of the door frame. 

“You gonna be a brat this whole trip?” His drawl, rich and velvety, almost tricks you into leaning up to kiss him, but you snap out of it from his words. The name shouldn’t make you clench your thighs together like it does. You opt for anger over letting him see what he does to you.

“I’m the brat?” You bite back. He’s not going to do this again. If it’s your last dying wish, Joel Miller will learn a lesson this trip. For leaving you high and dry. For being a fucking asshole, just like you told him at the barbecue a couple days ago.

“You think parading that lil boy ‘round here s’okay?”

“Again with Liam? It’s not any of your business.” 

You look at him. Really look at him—and there’s a certain emotion behind his eyes you can’t place. Like he’s biting his tongue, and you know he is.

“What, Joel? God,” you say, exasperated. 

“Nothin’—I—” he pauses like he’s trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. Then he says something that surprises you—like maybe he really does care about you and what happened in his truck. 

“He make you laugh?” 

You stare at him, shocked, and you can’t help but soften your gaze. You feel like bursting into a puddle of tears—but what’s even worse—you feel like running into his arms. 

“He doesn’t make me cry.” 

He looks down at that. Like he’s defeated. 

“I told you I care,” he throws his words back in your face. From when he had his tongue buried inside you. 

You roll your eyes. 

“What? You think I want it like this?” He continues when you don’t respond.

“I have no fucking idea what you want.” 

“I want to not be sneaking around behind my friend’s back. Your dad’s back.”

“Didn’t stop you before.”

He pushes off the car at that, putting his hands on his hips while scoffing to himself. You think you catch him mumbling something and before you can bite your tongue you urge him to speak up. 

“Insane,” he grunts.

“Sorry?” 

“I said you drive me fuckin’ insane.” 

You pause at that. Partially because his tone suggests it’s not the typical insane but like he can’t stay away from you. Like you drive him up the walls. Like he can’t stop thinking about you. Maybe even the kind of insane he makes you feel. Maybe it's the same thing he does to you. And you didn’t know you did…anything to Joel. 

“That’s my job,” you reply sarcastically instead of saying something stupid—or something you regret. 

You break his gaze—looking down to unlatch your seatbelt. When your hand goes to click the button, you stay fiddling with it; the latch fails to come out of the buckle. 

“‘S jammed. Need to get a repair,” he reaches over you to unlatch it himself. 

But you don’t get your hand out of the way quick enough and your fingers meet over the button. 

He pauses, you both do. The contact makes your head spin. 

You think he’s going to pull away. An apology is already braced on your tongue but instead of moving or retracting, he tentatively rubs your hand with his thumb instead, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s second nature. 

He’s in your space, and he smells like Joel, and you don’t think the two of you have ever shared a more intimate moment. Not even when his mouth was between your legs. 

You look up at him, hesitant, because you aren’t sure what’s going to be looking back. But he stares at you, his eyes soft. Joel looks down to your lips and back up to your eyes. His brow twitches a bit. You let out soft pants—the peaks of your breasts threaten to ghost against his chest. 

He looks at your lips again and inches closer, starting to duck his head. 

“‘M sorry,” he grumbles in a low, dangerous drawl that shoots right up your spine. 

You don’t think it’s a phrase he says often. You’ve never heard it. It sounds foreign on his lips, especially when they’re inching closer to yours. 

“For what?” You squeak out, a breath cutting through your words. 

“Everythin’.” 

Your eyes urge him to continue. 

“Thought I could stay away f’m you.” 

He gets closer. 

“Thought it was the right thing.” 

You shake your head. 

“But I don’t think I can stay away.” 

“Don’t stay away. Don’t go,” you plead with him and shake your head. All of your plans to make him pay have honestly gone out the window. But when he says things like that and he really—honest to god—means them? You know you’re fucked. 

“'M here.” 

You close your eyes at his words and will your tears back when they close. All you can smell is Joel and all you can feel is his hand coming up to loosely wrap around your throat, the curve of his palm hugging your collar bone. 

“Look at me.” In a blink, you do. 

He’s closer, if possible. 

And he kisses you. It’s the first time he’s ever kissed you. It’s not tentative, or aggressive.

This kiss feels like the real apology. Not him on his knees for you and then ignoring you after. He kisses like he’s willing you to forgive him. You know he’s not good with words—that’s why this kiss feels like the heartbreak that had settled in your chest is scattering. It feels like your old fantasies and butterflies breaching the surface are making you moan into his mouth. 

He kisses you like a man starved, but also like he’s scared of messing up again. 

It feels fucking good—he feels fucking good. 

His hand on your throat lengthens your neck to deepen the kiss. Your hands find his bicep and squeeze the life out of him. 

His other hand pulls at the hem of your shirt and almost ghosts the skin of your stomach but the sound of a door slamming snaps you both out of it. Joel turns to see Sarah pushing out of the patio door with her back turned towards you, carrying towels and a cooler. He quickly unbuckles your seatbelt with dexterous fingers, helping you out of the car.

You act like you were helping him unload the flatbed when Sarah turns around—a big smile cast on her face.

“Get your bikini on! Let’s go!” She looks at you and nods towards the ocean over her stack of beach supplies. 

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” 

You hustle into the house with a duffle slung over your shoulder. You can see your dad in the kitchen rifling through the pantry—the cooler for drinks and food abandoned on the floor near the fridge. 

You find a bathroom and change into your swimsuit quickly. You don’t miss the wet spot on your panties. From a kiss nonetheless. You’re beginning to think you’re way more fucked than either you or Joel like to believe. 

You rush out onto the patio. Sarah is probably shoulder deep in the water and it’s way too fucking hot to be sitting under the sun without taking a dip. You haven’t been to a nice beach like this in a really long time. You don’t remember the last time you went on vacation. 

This is nice.  

Joel is being way too…nice. 

You pass him on the way to the beach where you see Sarah jumping through the water. He looks at you, subtly. Out of the corner of his eye. You try to avoid his gaze and hide your blush but you can feel his burning eyes shift to the back of your head as you give him a small smile in passing. 

“Dad! C’mon let's go!” Sarah yells from the water. You look to see Joel staring back at you—you drop his eye when your dad busts through the door. 

“‘N a minute!” Joel grumbles as he throws his duffle over his shoulder, carting in a crate of barbecue things for the weekend. 

Your flip flops splat on the deck as you break into a small jog down to where Sarah is. She smiles at you as you run into the water. The two of you playing in the salty spring like teenagers—well she is—you aren’t. 

You can see your dad and Joel settle on beach chairs some yards away from the shoreline. They sport a couple beers and talk amongst themselves while watching you and Sarah play in the water. 

You catch Joel’s eye a couple times. He even comes down and throws around a football with your dad. He splashes and teases you all day. 

When the sun finally extends down to the horizon and the water turns orange from its light, Sarah tells you she’s beat and basically hobbles back over to the dads on the beach chairs. She slumps down onto the one next to Joel, you move towards them as well, trying not to blush because you know Joel is looking at you before you meet his eyes. 

“Tired?” Joel asks, not to you or Sarah in particular, but it falls on you—Sarah already asleep on the beach chair. 

“Exhausted.” You plop down on the chair beside your dad, taking a towel and drying your hair off before moving to the rest of your body. 

“Want dinner? I’ll make my burgers,” your dad inquires, beginning to stand and take the beers with him. 

“Sounds good dad.” You stand and wrap the towel around your body. “Need a shower.”

You try to wake Sarah up gently, she grumbles and stalks off to the house, you, trailing behind her. She kicks her flip flops off at the entrance and moves to the couch in the living room. She’s back asleep before you get the chance to enter the door. 

Your dad moves to the kitchen, you don’t know where Joel went. Maybe you left him back on the beach. You move to take a cold shower, the small tug in your stomach grew to be quite big when you caught him staring at your exposed skin on the beach. 

When you get upstairs, you enter your designated bedroom. You smile when you realize it has a bathroom attached to it. You strip off your bathing suit, putting it in the sink of your bathroom. 

You wrap a towel around your body and go to twist the knob of your shower. When you tug it towards hot it comes off the shower wall with a chink and you curse to yourself, the water coming out in a leak rather than a stream. 

You huff. This is not what you need right now. 

“Dad!” You call from the doorway of your bedroom—not wanting to venture further in just a towel. 

You turn away from the door—moving into the bathroom, trying to chance figuring out how to fix it instead, when a pair of footsteps fall by your bedroom door. 

“You okay?” A voice calls from your bedroom, but it’s not your dads. 

You jump at the sound of a honey rich southern drawl echoing your name as Joel pushes through the bathroom door to find you in your towel, holding the shower handle.

“Jesus—” he looks away with a cough, you can tell he’s shocked to see you in just a towel. But when he sees you holding the handle he does a double take. 

“What the hell did y’do?” He flips between giving you privacy and moving toward you with an outstretched hand, taking the shower handle into his own. 

“I just tried to turn it on and it snapped off,” you try to reason with him, a flush coming to your cheeks when he comes into the bathroom. 

“Move,” he grumbles, sneaking by you. In the brief moment you come chest to chest, you look up at him and he lets out a groan. His hand snakes by your waist. He looks down at you—a dangerous look in his eyes. 

Joel breaks first, moving towards the shower. 

“I’m gonna—yeah—just…uh thanks,” you gesture to your towel and shut the door to the bathroom behind you. Leaving Joel in there alone. 

You throw on an oversized t-shirt and underwear before he comes out, sans shower handle. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, suddenly self conscious you didn’t have time to put on pants. You aren’t sure why. Joel’s seen…a lot already. 

“‘Course,” he says, but doesn’t leave like you anticipated. 

“You havin’ fun?” He asks. There’s something in his tone that suggests he doesn’t actually care. 

“Yeah,” you reply, breathless, “Thanks for inviting us.”  

“sorry—I—” he points to the bathroom, “thought you were in trouble or somethin’.” 

“‘S’okay.” 

He looks at you, and down to your bare legs, your underwear just peeking out from beneath your shirt’s hem. 

The way Joel looks at you—like you’re the only one who matters—stokes the fire growing in your stomach. The look in his eyes tells you he’s still wrestling with his moral compass. Like he needs to stay away for his own good, but like he said in the car—he just can’t. 

Joel nods, and steps back like he’s turning to leave. You don’t want him to. You need him. When you take a tentative step toward him, he suddenly breaks into stride in your direction. The dam of fleeting touches and wandering eyes for half a day breaks. He grabs your face in his hands, kissing you hard. His tongue slips to run over your bottom lip and you whine into his mouth. 

Your hands come up to rest on his chest. His, wrapping around your waist while he dips his head to start kissing your neck.

“Joel–” you start, but the feeling of his lips on the sensitive parts of your collarbone punches your breath.

He only hums at that sentiment. 

“Where are we going?” you manage to get out, when he’s tugging you into the bathroom by your wrist, shutting the door behind him. 

“Need to fuck you,” he groans into your ear as he spins you around, so your hips press into the bathroom counter. You can look into the mirror and see your reflection. You look entirely too fucked out from a couple kisses and he looks stone cold. 

“J-Joel—ah—jesus,” you moan when his hand dips to your front and catches your clit through cotton. 

“Say please,” he groans into the skin of your neck. You turn your head to catch his lips in a chaste kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, but you don’t mind either way. He’s close, he’s here and he’s kissing you. 

You break away from the kiss just enough to whine out a small, “Please–fuck–”

You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but you know if that’s what he wants—you’d give him anything in this particular moment. 

“Nicer.” 

You whine, the pad of his finger catches your clit just right.

“Please, Joel,” you cut out through bated breath. 

He huffs, you can hear the sound of clinking and shuffling behind you—the tell tale sign of his belt coming undone. 

“Alright, baby, c’mon,” he pushes you down, folds you in half, your breasts pressed against marble. It's cold, and his hot hands on your waist, snaking down to slot his fingers in your underwear makes you dizzy. 

“You’re a tease,” he groans when he eases your underwear to the side, the head of his cock catches your clit.

“Joel—p—fuck—” His cock catches at your entrance. You both pause for a second, reveling in the feeling. One of his hands grips your waist so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises by dinnertime. The other pushes your face down—fingers tangling in your hair. 

“Look in the mirror,” he growls, lifting your head up by your hair, just enough so you can watch his face as his tip slips past your entrance. 

He stretches you out just from that, you muffle down a scream in your throat. 

Joel’s mouth goes slack but he doesn’t react much with his face. He just looks down at your bodies connecting and pants while he slowly slides home. 

“‘S big Joel. Feel so good—oh my god—” he breaks you open and splits you in two. His breath cuts somewhere behind your head—your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. 

He buries himself to the hilt, you curse and mutter inconsistencies into the bathroom. His iron grip on your body goes tighter if possible. 

“Eyes open,” he growls behind you. “You can take it baby, c’mon.” 

You will open your eyes, focusing on him in the mirror. He has a sheen of sweat already casing his forehead, his shirt is half unbuttoned with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

“Relax, angel,” he pants. “You’re squeezing me — could barely get it in,” 

He settles there, you try to relax but the stretch makes you squirm underneath him. He lets you adjust to his length, cursing every time you clench around him. It’s filthy. Obscene. He’s pushing your head up — lifting you by your hair, so you can see him spear into you with no remorse. He’s filthy, and so are you. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you mutter when you finally relax around him, your tight walls flutter at the feeling of his cock moving halfway out of you. When he pushes back in you see stars. 

“That’s right honey —fuck— so good for me,” he pants, bottoming out again and setting a slow pace that punches each breath out of you. “Teasin’ me all day—couldn’t fuckin’ wait any longer.” 

“More please,” you whine, meeting his eye in the mirror. The air is thick in the bathroom now, the potpourri on the sill of the window doesn’t really mask much of anything. 

He complies—surprisingly. Moving faster and harder, each push of his hips knocks you into the counter. The grip on your waist gets impossibly tight. The hand pulling at your hair finally lets you rest back down on the counter, pushing hair out of your face when you look back at him. It rests on the back of your neck. 

“Feel so good baby,” he groans. 

“Joel—I’m—I can’t, I’m gonna—” 

“C’mon angel, come for me,” he says, you take another peak at him through the mirror. He looks wrecked. But you look even worse. 

You get impossibly tight around him while he mutters things you can’t hear over the ringing in your ears. You think you hear him toss out a small that’s right when you finally spill over the edge. 

He fucks you through it, his pace doesn’t let up, the coldness of the counter brings you back to reality. Where his breaths are becoming groans and pants and he strokes your cheek with his thumb. 

“‘Nother,” is all he says when your tight walls finally relax, molding to him and only him. 

“I–I can’t—” you say, slumped against the counter. You sound cock drunk. It’s halfway true though. No one else has ever made you come twice in one night. You were starting to think it might be a myth. 

“Know you can, pretty girl,” he goes slow at that, angling down so the tip of his cock catches something inside you that lights the fire again. “There we go. ‘S okay, can feel it already.” 

He pushes you towards another orgasm, it washes over your entire body and you slump against the counter. Maybe it’s some sort of weird trance he has you in. Or maybe you were right and this — whatever it is — is getting bad. Fast. You’re threatening to fall. But he’s there, and he picks you up and holds you down. 

“Jesus. Fuck, baby,” he curses into your skin when your release coats his cock and lets him sink deeper, thrust faster, push harder. 

“Joel—fuck. Fuck.” Maybe the overstimulation should be getting to you, but you stay there like that, as he speeds up and his thrusts become more frantic. He chases after his own orgasm. 

“Turn over,” he says, hastily. His hands move at your body before you can process his words. He flips you around and slots himself in between your legs—sliding back in deep, grinding into you while folding over so his head is in the crook of your neck. 

“Please,” you whimper. You both know what you’re asking for. But he pulls out, ripping your shirt up and spilling all over your stomach and breasts. It coats you, the liquid hot and he dips his head to watch it coat your body. He lets out a strangled string of curses, bracing himself on the counter as he comes. 

He kisses you. Really kisses you. You grab his face and moan into it. Like you’re willing him to stay there, in between your legs forever. 

But he breaks first, moving to grab a towel out of the cabinet above the toilet. He cleans you up gently, wetting the towel with warm water before it touches your skin. The sentiment could make you cry. 

When he’s done cleaning you up, he kisses your forehead. Joel wraps his arms around you as you sling yours over his shoulders. He holds you there, his hand coming to cup the back of your head, stroking your hair and breathing hot kisses into your crown. You smile, lazily. 

He pulls back just enough to look at you. You know you still look wrecked and are in desperate need of a shower—he looks perfect by contrast, completely untouched and definitely unbothered. 

“Dangerous,” he mutters when you look at him through your lashes. 

You kiss him instead of responding.

You know Joel's right—this is dangerous. 

But it feels way too good to stop. 

_

part iv

taglist! (comment or message me if you would like to be added) kisses to you all:

@nostalxgic @iluvurfather

[jungkookschin]

older

think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders

synopsis: all your friends say you're delusional for thinking you have a chance with jungkook, the handsome older man you've known since forever, but you just can't seem to let him go. word count: 18k

pairing: older!jungkook x afab reader

genre: age gap au (seven years), social media au!!!, childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes warnings: character death (not jk or y/n), cursing, nudity,

author's note: i am so overwhelmed with the support i've gotten for this fic!! obviously this isn't going to be the best written fanfic, but i genuinely enjoyed writing it!! and yes, there will be a part 2!

PART 1 | PART 2

“Girl.. be for real. He doesn’t want you.” Beomgyu’s opinion bounces off your bedroom wall but shoots into your heart like an arrow; you subtly glare at him through your vanity mirror. Though, the Snorlax plush headband and unblended concealer in triangles under your eyes is far less than intimidating. 

“Okay, fuck you-”

Beomgyu shrugs. “You can wear all the makeup in the world and you would never get his attention,” he nonchalantly utters, not caring enough to even look at you while he addresses you. You pout, sulking as Beomgyu’s very real assertion settles into your system. 

Jeon Jungkook would never see you that way. 

He adores you because you’ve been acquainted since childhood- your parents being close friends. He’s seven years older than you and has witnessed you blossom from a childish boy-crazy kid to an equally boy-crazy adult, the same way you’ve seen him go from a prepubescent pre teen to a hot, older, rich, man. 

“Look, and that’s not to say that you’re not pretty or whatever because you are pretty and a lot of guys want you, but Jungkook… he’s just too old for you,” he offers you an empathetic smile before attempting to assuage the petulance in the air.  “Honestly, I would be even more concerned if he responded to your advances because that would be.. hella weird.”

Beomgyu’s claims often transform your brain into a philosophical battlefield. Would it really be all that inappropriate for Jungkook to see you as a woman? An age gap of seven years holds no real significance if you were both in your 20’s, right? But does Jungkook knowing you since childhood completely nullify any chance you have with him?

“Oh fuck off with that. I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m already 19 years old, almost 20-”

“The delusion is never escaping this one…” Beomgyu mumbles. He finally looks up from his phone when you spring up from your chair and stomp over to him. You hold your manicured claw up to scratch his face, but Beomgyu grabs your wrist before you can do any damage. 

“You’re such a horse girl, don’t try to scratch me- wait are you crying?” Beomgyu’s gaze melts after noticing the tears accumulating in your waterline. 

“No!” you respond, the tip of your nose becoming slightly red. You raise your sleeve to wipe your nose. 

“Wait Y/N! You’re going to get makeup all over my hoodie!-” 

Beomgyu halts when he sees your unblended concealer transfer onto his very white and expensive hoodie. His lips form into a straight line while he stares at you blankly. 

“Sorry?” you squeak. He gestures dramatically- blinking at you like a pissed off owl.

…

…

…

You bolt to the door, sprinting from Beomgyu before he quickly follows in pursuit of you. You run through the house, tumbling down the stairs frantically, and when you turn the corner, you stub your toe against the wall, stumbling over and falling flat on your face. 

You shriek in pain, holding onto your toe. Your eyes immediately tear up, sobbing through the pain blistering in your toe. And for some reason, Beomgyu is nowhere to be found. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” 

You freeze when none other than Jungkook pops out of his room, completely shirtless with nothing but gray sweats on. His abs are literally ripping in your face and his entire sleeve of beautiful tattoos are practically mocking you- especially the mask one. It's laughing in your face because it gets to be on Jungkook’s body and you don’t.  

You begin to cry even harder. No physical pain would ever compare to the pain of not being able to have him. 

“Whoa, whoa, what happened?” Jungkook kneels down and takes your foot in his large hands. 

Thank God you got your toes done the day before. His thumbs press into the balls of your feet while he carefully inspects your toes. “Not fractured, I think. Think you can get up, baby?”

Baby. He’s been calling you that stupid nickname since forever. That’s what  everybody used to call you when you were younger; you were the youngest of all your parents’ friends’ kids after all. But for some reason, the nickname only seemed to stick with Jungkook. He has this horrible tendency (not really) of doting on you, taking care of you, and spoiling you to oblivion. 

You sniffle, shaking your head. 

Jungkook’s handsome face crinkles into a subtle laughter, an amused expression etched onto his features.  He takes his pointer finger and thumb, pinching your nostrils and wiping your snot onto his sweats. 

You smile sheepishly, butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

This man will literally touch your feet and boogers as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. That has to mean something, right? 

Jungkook scoops you into his arms bridal style and takes you into his room. 

Why Jungkook has a room in your house is beyond you. It seems like he was always over doing some errands for your parents- not that you were complaining, of course. He sets you down on his bed and uses his large palm to smooth over the frizzy hairs that are sticking up. 

“Just stay here for a while. I’ll take you to Urgent Care if it hurts in a few hours.”

Truth be told, that shit didn’t even hurt anymore, but there’s no way you were going to pass this opportunity up. You nuzzle into Jungkook’s sheets, his masculine smell absolutely amplifying your will to live. His cologne smells so good, the musky elegance of his scent making you dizzy as you bask in his essence. 

Anyways! Looks like you’re canceling your plans with Beomgyu. Apparently, he already knows that. 

Shutting your phone off, your eyes drift towards Jungkook, owlishly blinking at the computer code projected onto his large monitor. He’s got everything going for him: rich, hot, smart, successful. You want to cry again. “Jungkook, can I ask you something?”

His focus remains on the screen, eyes still boring onto the monitor before he absentmindedly responds, “Sup?”

“What would you do if a bear, a lion, and a gorilla just walked into this room right now?”

Jungkook’s fingers pause, hovering above his light up keyboard. He swivels around in his chair, his handsome features crinkling in evident confusion. 

“I’m serious. What would you do if a bear, a lion, and a gorilla showed up in your room? If you aren’t able to answer the question, then I don’t really know if I feel safe here,” you elaborate as you gesture with your hands, the bratty tone laced in your voice attempting to guilt trip him for not having a backup plan for this very specific specific situation. 

“Easy. I would feed you to them and then escape,” Jungkook bites back a cheeky smile  before spinning around and returning to his work. 

You gasp dramatically, pouting before you pull his covers over your head. 

Jungkook hums to himself, laughing at how obnoxious you can be.

Later on, another question is conjured in your imaginative little mind, and Jungkook’s lip twitches when he hears your classic Jungkook, I have another question. 

“Hmmm?”

“Do you think you could put me on with your piercing guy?”

Jungkook swivels around in his chair once again. “Thought you already had your ears and belly pierced.”

“It’s not enough. I want more. Wanna be like you,” you murmur, eyes settling on his five piercings decorating his left lobe, the one in his eyebrow, and the two on his lips. 

“It is enough,” he immediately counters, “You shouldn’t put holes in your body.”

You cock a brow at him.  “I know you’re not talking.”

Jungkook’s lip twitches upwards at your cheekiness. “Yea, I’ll send you his instagram. Tell him you’re with me and he’ll squeeze you in as soon as possible.”

-

“And I told Soobin to not piss in the water bottle, but he did anyway. And guess what? I almost drank from the same water bottle. Can you believe that? I was so fucking pissed at him I almost threw his piss back on him…” Yeonjun can tangibly feel that you’re not all there, your eyes occasionally drifting off- so his eyes follow your train of vision until-

“Oh c’mon Y/N!” Yeonjun’s fingers release the grip on the gym equipment, causing the weights to thunderously slam back into place. You yelp, flinching a bit before you swat Yeonjun’s biceps. 

“You scared me you bitch!”

“You scare me! And what the fuck are you wearing? What kind of basic bitch wears a pink set to the gym?”

You gasp dramatically. “You did not just say that.”

“And stop drooling over Jungkook! He doesn’t want you-mmmphh!” You clasp your palm over Yeonjun’s mouth mid-sentence, your boba eyes glaring up at him. You release your hand, pouting at him dramatically when you feel you’ve tortured him enough. 

Hands on your hips, you continue glowering at him and he gladly reciprocates the scowl on your lips. 

Yeonjun acquiesces from the glare-off almost immediately, too entirely soft to hold a grudge against his best friend. “Did you only agree to come to the gym with me to see Jungkook?” he asks, sincere disappointment laced in his words. 

You immediately soften, disheartened to hear the crestfallenness in his tone. You shake your head at the notion. “No- I wouldn’t do that. I swear he’s here by coincidence,” you explain thoughtfully, “I’m sorry for being an inattentive friend. It wasn’t intentional. I just get distracted whenever I see him. I’m sorry.” Your eyes return to Yeonjun’s who smiles knowingly at you. He opens his arms, offering an embrace and you gladly accept, hugging all the problems away. 

“You’re such a lovestruck girl,” Yeonjun teases. 

“I can’t help it. He just looks so good. Look at his arms and his tattoos- oh Yeonjun, I’ll never get over him. What should I do?”

“We just have to kill him. That’s the only option left,” your eyes meet his, his empty gaze boring into your skull before you both burst into giggles. 

“You’re right. That is the only option left.” You take a step back to stretch your arms, releasing the tension in your limbs until you sense a very familiar walking pattern approaching you.

“Hey Y/N,” Jungkook casually greets, creeping behind you to wrap a single arm around your shoulder. He pulls you closer to him from behind, nonchalantly nuzzling his forehead into the back of your head. You use both your hands to grip onto his thick forearm. “Um, hey Kook.”

Yeonjun bites back laughter, watching how you practically become hysterical at Jungkook’s casual gesture. 

Jungkook uses his vacant hand to dap up Yeonjun- over your head. “What���s up Yeonjun?” Jungkook grins. Yeonjun reciprocates the friendly greeting. “Hey, how’ve you been?  You looked great with the tricep presses.”

Jungkook beams at that. “Oh, you saw? I’ve been bulking so I’m trying to go super heavy with the weights.”

“I can tell. You look fucking enormous,” Yeonjun comments. 

Jungkook immediately dismisses the compliment with a wave. “Don’t say that. You look good too…”

Tuning out of the interaction, your brain begins to malfunction when you realize that Jungkook is extremely familiar with all of your friends. You definitely aren’t the most social person, often opting to napping in your cozy bed instead of going into the harsh, unforgiving world, but you are lucky enough to have great friends like Yunjin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Jungkook knows all of them. That had to be indicative of something deeper, right? Perhaps his underlying affection for you? Or a sign that he was possibly in love with you? 

“What are you giggling about?” Jungkook teases, gently using his vacant hand to ruffle your hair. 

You crimson intensely. “Nothing,” you sheepishly respond, skitterishly ducking under Jungkook’s arm to scurry behind Yeonjun, using your friend as a protective shield. 

“What’s up with her?” Jungkook asks Yeonjun, to which Yeonjun feigns ignorance. “Not a clue.”

“Well then, I’m gonna head out. I’m actually staying at Y/N’s for a bit because her parents are out of town. Can you believe I still have to babysit her?” Jungkook says to Yeonjun, giving you a teasing glance. 

“It’s just in case someone stalks me or tries to kill me! I don’t need to be babysat,” you emphasize, scowling at Jungkook and he can’t help but to reach out and pinch your cheek. The casual gesture sends you over the moon. 

“Whatever you say. You need a ride home though? I can wait so Yeonjun doesn’t have to waste gas on you,” Jungkook suggests, eyes darting towards yours then Yeonjun’s to detect any traces of reticence or hesitation in his features. 

You do the same, glancing towards Yeonjun who actually sports a look of indifference. You playfully link your arms with Yeonjun’s before sending Jungkook a downward smile. “It’s okay Kook.  Wanna spend time with my friend today.”

A touched gasp leaves Yeonjun’s lips as he holds his hand over his heart, gesticulating dramatically to convey his surprise that you would choose him over the man you’ve been salivating over the past thirty minutes. 

Jungkook has no protests about your preference. “Alright Y/N, see you at home. See you Yeonjun,” he gives you a little squeeze before he departs. 

Yeonjun waits until Jungkook is out of ear shot to provoke you, mocking you in an obnoxious, high pitched voice, “I don’t need to be babysat! You’re such a baby- but thank you for choosing me, you know.”

You tilt your head, eyebrows pinching before you subtly frown at Yeonjun’s comment. “Of course I would choose you. You’re my friend.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world- because it kinda is. Bros over hoes any day. 

Yeonjun’s lips quirk up at the sentiment, “Oh how touching, thank you so much for gracing me with your presence, my queen.”

-

Jungkook thinks you can be such a princess sometimes, especially when you drag your feet back into the house, a sour expression consuming your pretty features. Particularly receptive to your emotional fluctuations, he doesn’t hesitate to ask you what’s up. 

He leans against the kitchen counter, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as his eyes settle on your moping figure. “Who made you sad? Bring them to me right now,” he muses. 

You pause, letting your light green gym bag (with little Snorlax’s decorated all over it) fall to the floor with a thud before gazing at him with a vacuous expression. “Why are you dressed up?” you point towards his work attire- a simple white button up and slacks. The buttons on his dress shirt are undone and messy, giving you access to his chest and it makes you want to roll around on the floor and cry. His slacks are tight- accentuating his long, muscular legs and you decide that you’d be okay with dying only if  you were suffocated between his thighs. 

“Had a work call,” he responds, indifference laced in his voice, “Now who made you sad? Want oppa to handle it for you?” he teases, releasing a breathless laugh at the way your nose scrunches up in disgust. 

Nonetheless, you spill everything to Jungkook- because you always spill everything to Jungkook and because you trust him with everything in you. He makes you feel safe. Plopping yourself down on the seat by the dining counter, you wordlessly slide your phone across the counter. Jungkook effortlessly stops your phone with a single hand, his eyes scanning across the array of text messages popping up on the screen. 

“Not this guy again,” he mutters under his breath, gauging the situation. 

“I know!” you concede, “Wish he would leave me alone- but I feel like I have to respond.”

The text messages were from none other than your ex-boyfriend, telling you how much he misses you, how he’ll do better for you, and every other generic I want you back text in the book.  

There are various reasons why you feel obligated to respond to him: (a) the whole breakup was a mess and (b) it was your fault. You were in a long-term, committed relationship with your high school sweetheart until you recognized your exponentially growing feelings for Jungkook. The guilt of breaking your ex’s heart haunts you- his crying, tear-stained face often popping up in your mind when you feel shitty, making you feel even shittier.  Though you were no longer emotionally tied to him you do feel obligated to give him closure, or at the very least respond to his text messages.  

But you’ve had this conversation with your ex numerous times. How much closure does one need in order to move on?

“You don’t have to respond to him,” Jungkook’s sonorous voice pulls you from the thoughts plaguing your mind. “You’ve already told him how you feel,” Jungkook is the rational force in your life, always tugging you towards the right direction, especially when your susceptible mind feels the need to please everyone and everything.

“I know,” you sigh, “I just feel bad. He was my first kiss, first boyfriend. It feels like I just abandoned him.”

A look of contemplation blankets Jungkook’s handsome face, evident by the way his fingers trace over his chin and lips. “That’s true,” he eventually asserts, “but no one as young as you should stay in a relationship out of obligation.” He approaches you and settles himself down on the vacant seat beside you. “Actually Y/N, I’m proud of you for building up the courage to let him go. It would be more painful if you forced yourself to stay.” 

You purse your lips and nod, allowing yourself to enjoy the sensation of Jungkook comfortingly rubbing your back. “t’s just sad. I used to love him.”

“I know Y/N, but sometimes you just have to start living in the present instead of the past. If you respond you’re just going to give him false hope. Just let it be,” he articulates, using prudence to assuage you.

You nod, craning your head to sustain eye contact with him, making the conversation feel all the more intimate and personal, “How would you feel if you were him? I mean- if your girlfriend broke up with you and you were still like- in love- with her?”

He tilts his head, thoroughly contemplating the question because he takes your feelings seriously, and he wants to give you the right answers. “If my girlfriend loses feelings then she loses feelings, there’s nothing I can do about it. I definitely wouldn’t beg for her back, I’d go out and make a lot of money instead,” he smiles, “But I wouldn’t know how it feels. I’ve never been dumped before,” he adds. 

“Seriously?” you interject, not believing that Jungkook has never been dumped in his 26 years of living. “What about that one girl you brought to Thanksgiving Dinner a few years ago? What happened to her?”

“Ahh her?” he somewhat grimaces at the thought of his ex-girlfriend, “She was getting a little too suffocating so I let her go. She was really pissed off- tried to key my car and shit,” he states. 

You gasp. His ex-girlfriend was so sweet to you- she even bought you a Snorlax plush keychain. But you can imagine Jungkook trying to hold her back while she jostles out of his grip, trying to key his car- his baby. “No way? If she ever comes back, just let me know. I’ll throw hands for you,” you enunciate, showing him your fists to which Jungkook just scoffs in amusement. 

“Yea, I’ll definitely call you,” he remarks sarcastically before getting up, “So are you good, baby?” he asks, casually resting his hand on your shoulder, and you nod. 

“‘M good. I’m not gonna respond to him.”

Jungkook’s lips quirk up at that. “Good.”

-

 Jungkook is livid. You can tell by the way he spam calls you even after you repeatedly reject his calls. You quietly sneak out of the lecture hall and answer his call once you’ve reached the hallway. 

“What? I’m in class,” you impatiently mutter. 

“You’re fucking kidding, aren’t you?” he scoffs through the phone, “I canceled your appointment, by the way.”

The color drains from your face once you realize what this is about. “He told you?”

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you thought you could go through me to get your nipples pierced! I can’t believe you thought I would let you do that!”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” you whisper shout into his phone, “I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want!”

“No you’re not. Baby, you can’t even drink,” he reiterates, a little more calmly this time. 

“Who cares? You’re not my mom! I can do whatever I want. Even if it’s through someone else!” you bark back. The silence that ensues intimidates you.

“Baby.” His voice is low, and it’s kinda hot but you don’t pay attention to it because of how angry you are at him trying to monopolize your actions.

“I’m not a fucking baby anymore so stop calling me that!” 

“You’re not a baby?” Jungkook laughs lowly into the phone, as if the claim itself is ridiculous.

“‘m not.” He can practically hear your pout through the phone.

“You can’t even get on a plane by yourself.”

You gasp at Jungkook’s low blow. That was one time. A month ago, you took a flight to Vegas for EDC to meet up with Yunjin, who flew out the day before you. But you had no clue how to check your bag in, and were far too intimidated to go through the security check by yourself. What if they thought your ID was fake? Or worse what if they sent you to jail? There was just no way you could go through by yourself.

You remember the way Jungkook shook his head at your preposterous notions but nonetheless still agreed to take care of you.

So Jungkook drove you to the airport, carried your bag for you, weighed it, and checked it in. He also stood with you for the entire thirty minute wait at security and only left the airport when called and told him you were waiting at the departure gate.

You don’t respond, and he takes it as an opportunity to further his point. 

“That’s what I thought. End of story. You’re not getting it done.” 

He hangs up and you blissfully sigh. This literally takes feminism back 32904098 years, but you kind of love a man that can put you in your place. 

-

Jungkook goes to the gym everyday solely so he can beat the shit out of Taehyung and Mingyu, who get off on tormenting him for his extremely complex and profound feelings for you. 

Hooking up to the bluetooth speaker and blaring the sound of police sirens, going “Ayo! He’s right here, officer!” every time they walk past a policeman- they even go as far as putting handcuffs on him while he sleeps- hooting and howling in laughter when Jungkook wakes with his hands restrained.  

Initially, it made his intestines twist and turn with pure guilt, guilt about harboring feelings for you, the little girl who used to prance around his room and do cartwheels in futile attempts to impress him. 

His friends make him feel like shit, but they’re his friends for a reason. 

“Hey, so how’s Y/N?” Mingyu casually asks, sinking into the welcoming leather of Jungkook’s sleek, black sofa. He props his feet up on Jungkook’s coffee table-  mahogany brown and custom designed to suit Jungkook’s meticulous and elegant taste. 

Jungkook narrows his eyes at the nonchalance of the comment, half expecting Taehyung to pop out of nowhere in policeman cosplay, ready to put him in cuffs. “Why’re you asking?”

When Mingyu detects the hostility blanketing Jungkook’s features, his jaw drops in realization of the reality of the situation. “Wait.. you don’t take us seriously when we tease you about that shit, right?”

Jungkook cocks his head in confusion, settling beside Mingyu, chopsticks in hand as he blows on his ramen. “I mean, kinda. I feel guilty about it.”

Mingyu eyes his friend for a while, and Jungkook slowly turns his head towards Mingyu when he feels lasers boring holes into his skull. “What, asshole?”

“Ah, sorry man. I didn’t know it bothered you. I kind of thought it was a given that you and Y/N are cute together. Didn’t know the age gap bothered you.”

Oh. 

Jungkook pauses, setting his sizzling ramen back into the plastic container instead of into his mouth, and Mingyu feels the need to further elaborate. 

“I mean, you’re always helping her out, taking care of her,  that’s pretty cute.”

Jungkook blinks at Mingyu, raking his tattooed hand through his hair. “Doesn’t that just make me look like a dumbass?” he mutters, before letting out a bitter, light-hearted laughter at the reality of his assertion.  

His emotions for you run deep and intricate, but one thing remains unequivocally clear: he doesn't do these things because he expects something in return. That would be selfish. Obligation doesn't factor into his decisions either. Jungkook doesn't subscribe to such motivations when it comes to his personal life. He views it as unnecessary and cumbersome—except when it involves you. Whether it's looking after you, lending you money, helping you with homework, or driving you to the airport, he does it all because he genuinely loves you.

He acknowledges the peculiarity of his natural inclination to care for you. In the past, he's ended numerous relationships due to girls he found excessively clingy, suffocating, or overbearing, all attributes he easily uses to describe you- but he lives for that shit when it comes to you.

Mingyu’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “What? That girl loves you, Jungkook. If she does good in school and gets rich, you’d be bathing in that shit,” Mingyu jokes, causing Jungkook to sputter out laughter at the absurd thought. 

“Right now though?” Mingyu continues, “She wouldn’t be able to change your tire or some shit, but she brings you this sense of peace, and that’s something every guy needs in his girl.” 

Jungkook pauses at that. 

-

Jungkook is abruptly awoken by the blaring sound of his ringtone. Groggily, he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, eyes barely open. 

You, the only person that would call him at 3 in the morning, and you the only person he would answer at 3 in the morning.

Babysitting is the last word he would use to explain why he’s at your house right now. He’s at your house because, well,  he would do anything for you, even if you aren’t aware of the lengths he would go to keep you satiated and happy. 

He’s aware that men find you charming for your ditzy and oblivious nature, but Jungkook likes you regardless of whether or not you possess such an arbitrary trait. But it is true that there are a lot of things you aren’t aware of, like how utterly lovely you are. Jungkook knows you- sees how oblivious you are to the men who shamelessly ogle at you, or the boys who practically break their necks to get a glimpse at you. 

You have this resonating effect on him. You drive him crazy and you don’t even know it.

Initially, Jungkook had never truly focused his attention on you, yet as time passed, an irresistible attraction began to pull him toward you. He vividly recalls an incident in particular that left him dumbfounded.

Jungkook’s mom visited yours to drop off some vegetable. Gifting fruits and vegetables from their gardens are the way the aunties demonstrate their love and appreciation for one another. Jungkook reckons you didn’t know he was there because you pranced down the stairs with the tiniest boy shorts and  camisole top. Jungkook isn’t the type of man to become disoriented over the sight of a woman’s body, practically desensitized from all the women he’s been with, but he stiffens at your presence.

“Wow baby!” His mother giggles, using your classic nickname as she ogles you shamelessly, “You’re getting really sexy!” 

She playfully nudges your mom, “Are you ready to have grandchildren?” The joke makes your mother roll her eyes, though a smile lingers on her lips, infinitely proud of her beautiful daughter.

“I wish someone would marry my daughter!” Your mom jests, “All she ever does is sleep! I just wish a man would even look her way!” 

Jungkook’s eyebrows pinch in bewilderment. He knew your mother was only joking, teasing you as per usual- because clearly, you are captivatingly gorgeous. You make a sly comment in return to make his mom giggle, always so smooth and sociable with the old ladies. 

Suddenly, you randomly swivel around, yelping at Jungkook’s presence. “Oh hey,” you greet, fidgeting in place, “I didn’t know you were here. Sorry- I should cover up a little.”

For the first time in his life Jungkook is speechless in front of you. You. You just look so pretty standing in front of him, your manicured fingers twirling a single strand of hair, gazing at him and gnawing your lips like he makes you nervous when in reality you make him tremble with just one look. It makes his chest tighten and he inhales deeply to compose himself.

“No. Not at all, you should be comfortable in your own home,” the smile he offers you is forced, polite, and you’re bewildered at the tension accumulating between you and him. Your eyes glint downward; you can’t even look at him, and suddenly a bold wave of impulsivity washes over you.

“Hey Jungkook, can we talk in the other room?”

Jungkook’s eyes flash towards his mother’s then rapidly back at you. Subconsciously, his eyes trace down your body and he feels like has to physically gouge his eyes out to prevent himself from looking.

“Yea, sure.”

He follows you upstairs into the guest room, taking extreme measures to keep his pupils focused on the ceiling lights above your head. However, his efforts work against him because the ceiling lights shine on you like a spotlight, illuminating your gorgeous figure as you make your way up the stairs.

Your fingers wrap around his forearm and you pull him into the room.

You waste no time getting straight to the point.“Jungkook, I think I’m pregnant.”

Jungkook blinks, processing what you just said. “Huh?”

You bite your lip anxiously, crossing your arms while you look down at your toes. “My period is late, and I don’t know what to do- you’re the only person I trust to talk about this.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to confirm the sentiment. “You can trust me with anything. I’ll always take care of you- ‘m just a little shocked because I thought you were still a virgin.”

Gasping dramatically, you pout at him and stomp your foot. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

Yea, clearly not, he thinks. “Just act normal. After I drop my mom off at home I’ll come back with a pregnancy test.”

You nod and give him a downward smile. “Thanks- ‘m just really nervous and I hope I’m not pregnant because I don’t even remember who the dad is and-“

Jungkook frowns at that, perturbation morphing onto his features. “Y/N, you don’t remember who the dad is? Please don’t do that- only sleep with people you trust. Please.”

“I trust you.” 

The words tumble from your lips immediately, before you can even process your thoughts. You clasp your hand over your mouth, a small gasp leaving your lips as you gaze up at him in pure horror. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what to think- doesn’t even know if that was just a fragment of his imagination. He blinks at you, brain too fused to even conjure a proper response.

“Wait- I didn’t mean it like that!” you blurt out. At that moment, you give up on any attempt to salvage the situation and scurry out of the room, stumbling back down the stairs. 

Jungkook runs his hands over his face. 

He’s going to hell for the thoughts running through his mind.

Thank God you weren’t pregnant but after that night Jungkook just never looked at you as just a family friend. It’s complicated . It’s morally conflicting, and it frustrates Jungkook like nothing else.

“Hello?” he speaks into the phone

“I bled on my bed,” you sniffle into the phone, “Just please come upstairs,” you say before abruptly hanging up.

He begrudgingly rises from his bed. Though tired, he doesn’t hesitate to throw his black t-shirt over his head to look presentable for when he checks up on you.  Rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his black sweats as he makes his way up the stairs. He gently opens the door to see you sitting idly under your covers, clinging onto your Snorlax plushie for dear life. You’re wearing 

He sits on the edge of your bed. “You ran out of pads?”

You don’t say anything, remaining stiff like an ice sculpture, not melting under Jungkook’s warm touch like you usually do.

He nods at you and gently tugs on your oversized T-shirt, urging you to get up as he sticks out his hand. “Change the sheets and I’ll go out and buy you some pads-“

“Jungkook, I'm in love with you.” 

Abrupt. 

Impulsive. 

Messy. 

But you feel like you just have to say it.  With a radiant glow on your rosy cheeks, you purse your lips in a demure manner, physically unable to look at him. You have to look at Snorlax to get your words out instead. 

You inhale deeply. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry if it creeps you out but I’ve always had feelings for you- and I hate you for it because I don’t think I’ll ever have the capacity to love anyone else like I love you.” With glossy eyes you finally peer at him just to see an entirely indecipherable expression- you’re not sure if it conveys shock, bewilderment, or horror but it evokes the most unsettling and humiliating sensation in the pit of your stomach. 

Just as day transforms into night, humiliation morphs into anger, and anger morphs into nonsensicality. Outrage bubbles within you and you chuck the Snorlax plushie at his face. 

“Fuck you! How can you treat me the way you do and expect me not to feel anything?! I emotionally cheated on my ex with you! You’re the fucking worst and I hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your hands frantically search for every single squishmallow, plushie, and teddy bear you have and you violently chuck your beloved squishies at him.  From zero to one hundred, you’ve escalated rapidly and you feel like you’ll die if you don’t convey everything to him right now, in this moment. 

Jungkook remains stoic, somewhat resembling the statue of a Greek god: handsome and stagnant, not even flinching at the impact of your squishies hitting his built body or the way you nonsensically scream at him.

“This is all your fucking fault Jungkook. You ruined my life! You ruined love for me! I’ll never get a boyfriend, never get married, never have kids because of you! I’m going to die alone and it’ll be all your fucking fault! How could you do that to me? How could you do that to me?” You erupt into sobs, pushing your face into your hands as you violently cry. Snot, tears, and saliva leak from your face as the chagrin completely consumes you. 

“Y/N.” The sound of Jungkook’s deep, baritone voice is barely audible over the sounds of your heaving. 

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He does sound sorry, but you can’t help but question the authenticity of his words because he didn’t do anything wrong in the first place. It’s like he’s merely uttering an apology to appease you. 

But for Jungkook, he’ll apologize a million times if it helps dry your tears.  He never let his pride get in the way when it comes to you.

He sits at the edge of your bed, using his finger to tilt your chin up, revealing your disheveled, snotty, and glossy face. You whimper when your vision clears and focuses on him. 

He wipes your face with your own shirt, tugging up the hem to absorb your tears, still gentle and attentive. You swat his hand away. “You need to stop doing that,” you mewl, blinking more tears from your eyes. 

“You need to stop crying. It makes me sad,” he retorts, passing you the same Snorlax plushie you violently launched at him. You cushion the plushie on top of your thighs and bring your knees to your chest. You inhale and exhale deeply, trying to settle from your emotional high. 

“You don’t even take me seriously,” you mumble, peeking up at him. 

“I always take you seriously,” Jungkook responds, “but I want you to stop crying first-

“Jungkook, kiss me,” you breathe out, “If you don’t hate me, then kiss me,” you say, your eyes fluttering shut, delusionally- as if he was about to kiss you. Instead, you feel his large palm on your head, softly caressing your hair. 

“I’m not gonna kiss you. You should get some rest.” His voice is deep, calm, and composed. How can he be so normal when you’re on the brink of losing your mind?

Your face scrunches up in indignation before you erupt in tears once again, practically screaming. “Fuck you! I hate you! I hate you!”

“Y/N.” He calls your name repeatedly.

“Y/N-”

“Shut the fuck up you asshole!”

“Y/N,” his voice becomes more stern with everytime he calls your name, but you don’t let him get a word in. You keep screaming at him, calling him every name in the book of insults, shaking him off every time he goes near you.  

When he attempts to sit by you, you violently push him away. “Go away! I’m not a little kid anymore! I don’t fucking need you anymore! I’m gonna be single forever because of you! If you don’t want me to be single forever then just fucking leave and never come back!” 

You’re aware that your words are horrible, but the overwhelming sense of embarrassment and shame erupting in your system prevents any rational train of thoughts from developing in your mind. You’re embarrassed and devastated that Jungkook doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, and it sends you spiraling.

He attempts to calm you once more by sitting on your bed, but you push him even more violently. “Don’t fucking touch me! I’m never gonna find love because of you! Just fucking die, just leave forever if-”

He staggers on his feet, caught off balance from the force of your push, and for the first time in his life Jungkook yells at you.  

“Y/N!”

Giving you no time to say or think anything, he seats himself on your makeup chair, tattooed hand gripping onto its top rail. “Y/N,” he scowls deeply at you, features blanketed in exasperation,  “We’ll talk about this later, but you need to calm the fuck down. You’re hurting me when you talk like that.”

Your eyebrows furrow deeply in horror, your cheeks tear-stained and your eyes filled with sorrow. The haunting realization of what you just said settles into your system. Your quivering lips barely enunciate your words. “Kook, I’m so sorry,” you blubber out. “I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean it. I promise I didn’t mean it!” You shoot up, stumbling over your own feet and collapsing onto the floor. You’re a mess. Your face glistens with a layer of your own snot, and your hair is matted and tangled, the result of the countless times you tugged at it during this interaction. 

Unbeknownst to you, there's a red blotch near the lower hem of your T-shirt, and droplets of blood escape you and drip onto the floor as you stumble out of bed.  Jungkook notices though, eyebrows pinching in concern as a very disturbed expression morphs on his face when you collapse to your knees, your trembling hands holding onto him for support. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it! It’s all my fucking fault!”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you sniffle. “I’m so sorry I said that. That was so horrible of me. Please don’t die. I’m so sorry.”

A sigh of vexation leaves his lips, but nonetheless he remains patient, compassionate towards  the devastation that consumes your face. “I’m not gonna die.” He cups your face with his tattooed hand, and uses his thumb to wipe the idle tears on your face.  “I forgive you. It’s okay.” 

“Promise? Promise it’s okay? I’m so sorry,” you cry even more, desperately latching onto his hands, using the side of his fingers to wipe your eyes.  

“It’s okay,” he confirms, tilting your head upwards before wiping your face with a makeup wipe from your vanity. “‘M really tired. I’m gonna go get your pads then I’ll be back. 

You sniffle. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The smile he gives you is forced, and it makes you feel horrible.

He motions his head towards your bed. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when I come back.”

You tiredly listen to his words, getting under your covers and holding onto your Snorlax plush. “Good night Kook.”

“Night,” he says, somewhat emotionlessly, flickering the lights off and vacating your room. 

-

Horrible. You wake up with puffy eyes, infinite eye boogers, and an awful pit in your stomach. The memories of last night come flooding in and you immediately check your phone to see if Jungkook texted you. There’s nothing there. 

Why would he want to talk to you after what you did?

You decide to send him a text message to further emphasize how sorry you are. 

You throw your phone on the bed and scream into the stomach of Snorlax. 

Dry. He’s being so fucking dry and it’s all your fault. 

The next few weeks are spent with you attempting to redeem yourself. 

-

You have no idea why you’re in front of Jungkook’s work, let alone with a lunchbox cake in hand. Begrudgingly, you stumble inside the tall building, awkwardly smiling when you come face to face with the sweet old security man. Jungkook’s work place is fancy as hell. Every floor of the tower hosts the office of an aristocratic company. There are even enormous, airport-esque x-ray machines stationed towards the entrance. You have to walk through a metal detector to be granted access into the building.

“Why hello, young lady! What business do you have here today?” 

“Um, I have a cake for someone. H-he works at HYBE Tech Solutions.”

“Alright, go ahead and put your bag and belongings here,” he says, motioning towards the tray on the X-ray machine conveyor belt. You watch as your belongings pass through the machine and come out on the other end. Then, you step through the metal detector, holding your arms up to be properly inspected. You bid the security man goodbye and walk towards the elevator. 

An ominous feeling of stupidity washes over you as you press your fingers onto the elevator buttonsYou feel stupid. You feel dumb. You feel silly. You would never do this for a man, but here you are. 

You take a deep breath before you stumble in, coming face to face with the lady that works at the front desk. Your eyes settle on the badge on her blouse. Dorothy. You vaguely remember Jungkook ranting about this woman, venting about how she crossed professional and ethical boundaries-  often sneakily creeping her fingers up his chest while they spoke and even going as far as to dig into the company’s database for his personal information. 

You clear your throat. “Hi, how’s your day been?”

“I’m great! Thanks for asking, hun. How can I help you today?” She asks, voice bubbly and uplifting, perfect for customer service.  

“Oh! Um- I have something for Jungkook. He works in the tech department.”

Her bubbly and friendly atmosphere immediately diminishes, and she raises her eyebrows at you before eyeing you conspicuously. With a vacuous expression, she picks up the landline, pressing her thin fingers into the numbers. “Hey, can you let Jungkook know that there’s a child here for him?”

You purse your lips at that, rocking back and forth on your heels. You try to avoid eye contact with this woman by looking elsewhere- pupils frantically darting to the daisies on the front desk or  the grandfather clock that sits idly against the beige walls- but she’s persistently staring you down. 

Thank God Jungkook appears from the end of the hallway. 

He sports a light blue button up and brown slacks, a stack of papers in his tattooed hand while the other rakes through his short hair. He looks delicious as ever and clearly Dorothy agrees because she practically moans as he walks down the hallway.

“Y/N?” He narrows his eyes in your direction, confirming that it’s really you.

“Um hi Kook. I brought you something.” You use two hands to present the styrofoam box to him.

Jungkook’s eyes scan from the lunchbox to you. He places the stack of papers on the front desk before accepting the box and popping open its lid. “A cake?” he questions, and you nod shyly, fidgeting in place. 

“Thanks,” he plainly says, giving you an awkward smile before his eyes dart towards Dorothy, who is intensely scrutinizing the interaction. There is tension in the atmosphere, and Dorothy’s presence isn’t helping. 

He clears his throat. “You didn’t have to, you should be studying,” he says, his words a little more light-hearted this time.

You shake your head. “I wanted to do this for you. I’m sorry for last night, Koo.”

He stares at you before letting a sigh escape his lips. “t’s okay Y/N. Told you I‘m not mad. We’ll talk about this later.”

You twiddle with your fingers, your puppy eyes flickering towards him. 

“Hug?” he asks, cutting the tension, tilting his head while he holds his arms open. You pout, nodding before running into his arms. He holds you tight, and whispers into the top of your head so Dorothy wouldn’t catch heed of the conversation. “You made me sad last night, you know.”

“‘I’m sorry.”

“‘It's okay. I can never be mad at you for too long,” He subtly releases you from his embrace and pinches your cheek. “Now go home, okay?”

You take a step back and offer a nod. And for some reason, Jungkook feels that you’re looking at him as if you’ll never see him again. “Enjoy your cake.” 

Jungkook smiles back, waving you goodbye. You turn to the office lady, who quickly averts her eyes once you notice her blatant eavesdropping. “Thank you auntie. Have a nice day!”

Jungkook has to physically restrain himself from laughing.

-

A heart emoji. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his most insignificant actions.  You hold your phone to your chest and bite back a smile. 

Loud music booms and vibrates through the walls of this massive mansion. There’s a huge pool, complete with a waterslide and waterfalls spilling into the pool. You’re surrounded by tons of other like-minded college kids, clad in nothing but a white lace bikini. You’re able to acknowledge that it isn’t the most tasteful outfit, but you feel good and you look good. 

After jumping in the pool and violently pelting water balloons at each other (effectively scaring away all the hoes), you and Yunjin lie under a cabana mindlessly scrolling through your phones. You only look up from your phone when you sense Yunjin holding up her phone for a selfie. Jungkook would have rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Can I show you something?” you abruptly blurt out, eliciting a cynical look from your friend. “Is it bad?”

You immediately shake your head, composing your posture so you can properly show Yunjin your texts with Jungkook. Her eyes rapidly scan over the phone in moments and she shoots you a sly glance. 

“So do you think?-”

“I don’t know… but I really, really, really hope that it means something. I don’t want him to see me as a little kid anymore, you know?” Bashfully, you smile at her, your demure expression a complete juxtaposition to your practically naked figure. 

Yunjin cups your cheeks making your glossy lips pouty. “Y/N! You’re about to pull Jungkook!”

“I am?”

“Yes you are-”

Yunjin flinches dramatically when a harsh stream of water unexpectedly drenches you. You both whip your head to the culprit in question: Beomgyu standing directly in front of you with a massive water gun. 

“You bitch!” Yunjin shoots up and runs after him with you rapidly following your partner in crime’s lead. But as you’re running towards Beomgyu (who maniacally screams and dashes), another stream hits you from the back.

The second culprit. Soobin. You sprint towards, latching your claws onto his white T-shirt him while you tug him towards the pool. “Wait Y/N! I just dried off. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” 

No mercy for this bitch.

You position yourself behind him, using your whole body to push him into the pool. Splash! You jump and squeal in excitement when he emerges from the water wiping his face with his hands. You laugh hysterically in his face, childishly pointing your finger at him, finding it even more hilarious when he gives you the stink eye. “That’s what you get, asshole!-“

You pause and shriek in horror.

Somebody just pulled on the strings of your bikini top, exposing your boobs to the entire party.

You instinctively crouch, shoving your chest into your knees.The gasp of horror that leaves Soobin’s lips mirrors yours, and he immediately springs into action, rapidly lifting himself from the pool and sprinting after whatever asshole just violated you.

“Y/N!” Your savior, Yeonjun appears in front of you, crouching to your level. He rapidly rids himself of his shirt and pulls it over your entire figure. “You’re good, you’re good,” he whispers calmly to you, trying to prevent you from having a full blown panic attack. You stand up reticently, folding your arms over your chest, eyes trained on the ground and only looking at Yeonjun’s feet to gauge which direction you’re heading in.

“You okay?” Yeonjun settles under the cabana. “That guy is such a dick,” he mutters to himself. 

You nod and sink into the cushion of the outdoor-couch. “I’m so fucking embarassed.”

Attempting to salvage the situation, Yeonjun immediately shakes his head. “No, no. Nobody saw anything.” You shoot him a skeptical look, knowing damn well everybody in the party saw your bare boobs. 

“Is that Jungkook?”

You immediately whip your head towards the left, and indeed Jungkook is walking your way. You can’t believe he’s real. All heads whip in his direction as he makes his way towards you. He flicks his head back to prevent hair from falling in front of his eyes, barefoot, black T-shirt, and gray shorts. He looks so handsome you can’t even comprehend it. 

“Y/N!” He shouts, quicklyducking under the roof of the cabana before he positions himself in front of you. He inhales and exhales deeply, the blistering sun forming particles of sweat on his forehead. 

You look up at him and your heart melts. The sheen of sweat on his face, the way his eyes fixate on you. Your heart skips a beat. You want to cry. Again. Out of embarrassment, and how emotional you become at Jungkook’s mere presence.   

You bury your head into your knees, making Jungkook's eyebrows pinch. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Yeonjun opens his mouth, hesitatingly glancing at you to confirm if telling Jungkook is okay.

You shoot up and practically catapult yourself onto Jungkook, latching onto him like a Koala. “Nothing happened,” you say, nuzzling your face into his shirt. “Come swim with me. Please.” 

Jungkook sighs, using his large palm to tame your frizzy stray hairs. “Y/N. We need to go home.”

You cock your head in confusion.“Wait why?”

His voice becomes oddly stern. “Y/N. It’s important and we have to go home.”

“To your place or mine?”

“My place. Just follow me.”

You haven’t a clue as to why Jungkook is behaving so urgently, but you follow him nonetheless. You pick up your purse and give Yeonjun a quick hug, running after Jungkook who cooly breezes past everyone, not a single person missing the hot guy who suddenly showed to the party. 

Jungkook opens his car door for you and allows you to step in. 

“Jungkook… is something going on?”

“Yes, there is,” he says grimacing slightly, shutting the door for you before he climbs into the driver’s seat. 

This nauseating anxiety bubbles inside you and sends chills up your spine, making you flinch when Jungkook closes the car door on his side. Jungkook doesn’t say anything, just looks behind his shoulder to reverse from his parking spot before zooming out of there. 

“Is this because of what happened the other night?” you ask, and he glances at you quickly. 

“No, it isn’t.”

“Well.. are we going to talk about it?” you push, twiddling with your fingers. 

Jungkook shakes his head, noticing your trembling fingers in his peripheral view. He reaches over and puts his hand on top of yours. “Not now.” 

You don’t respond, shifting in confusion.

“Here,” Jungkook starts, throwing his phone in your lap, “You can play whatever song you want.”

You purse your lips and silently nod. 

Sooner or later, you arrive at Jungkook’s apartments, and he leads you up the stairs and sits you on his black leather couch. 

He cups your face with both hands, caressing the apples of your cheek with his thumbs. With your eyebrows pinched, you peer into Jungkook’s eyes, conveying your confusion through your scrunched facial features. 

“Y/N, before I tell you what I want to tell you, I want you to take a few breaths. Just know that I’m always here for you.”

You nod steadily, pretty facial features still crinkled in confusion. 

“Y/N, your parents were in a car accident, and they didn’t make it.”

“What?”

And as the haunting realization settles into your system, all you can remember are your shrieks of terror echoing throughout his apartment and the way Jungkook holds you against his body while he wipes your tears and assuages your loud cries. 

-

The few days that proceed are a blur, but Jungkook takes care of you and is far more attentive than he ever has been. You cling onto him like fragile glass ornament hanging from a delicate thread- like he was all you had left because he was all you had left. He was your spring solace after a harsh winter, and the way he treated you indicated as much.

Jungkook works from home so you aren’t alone. For the entire day, you sit on his bed and watch him work. You eavesdrop on his meetings, falling asleep to the sound of his voice and whenever you wake up Jungkook ensures that he feeds you, constantly worried about your inability to eat. 

You’re queasy just thinking about going back to your house, so your daily and nightly attire consist of pieces from Jungkook’s wardrobe. You haven’t verbally acknowledged what has happened- not ready to talk about the death of your parents. You’re just trying to survive, and you feel like you’re barely making it. 

Thankfully, all your friends and family have been extremely helpful trying to get you through your grief. Jungkook’s mother stays with you for a few days, and after that Yunjin sleeps over with you for a few days- but you know that a piece of your heart has been ruthlessly ripped form you.

“Y/N, you need to take a shower,” Jungkook expresses, obstructing your view of the TV. His toothbrush hangs from his mouth, toothpaste residue bubbling around the perimeter of his lips. You owlishly blink at him, observing how his expression hardens at your look of indifference. 

You scoot towards the left end of the couch, hoping to get a clear view of Ever After High projected on his flat screen TV. 

“Y/N you haven’t showered in three days,” Jungkook interjects, “Please take a shower.”

“I will. Later.”

He pushes up his glasses, staring at you with intense disapproval. “Y/N,” he says sternly, trying to be gentle despite his qualms. 

You acquiesce, pouting at him. “Okay, fine. Later.”

His frown deepens. “Y/N.”

You chew on your bottom lip, deeply contemplating what Jungkook has asked of you. His large frame remains frozen in front of you. No matter how you position yourself on the couch, he renders you unable to watch the princesses prance around on the TV.

“Okay… but will you at least come with me? I don’t want to be without you.”

Jungkook pauses. 

“I don’t mean like getting in with me, but will you just sit on the toilet and talk to me?” You ask, sinking into the leather of his sofa and using your sweater paws to sweep your hair back. 

“Yea, I’ll do that.”

Once you step in the shower, you close the curtains, and strip yourself from your clothes, handing the pile of clothes to Jungkook. You turn on the water, yelping at the sensation on your body. Jungkook was right. You needed this and you kind of do smell like butthole. 

“Wait Y/N, do you want me to go to your house and get you underwear?” 

After folding up your (his) T-shirt and boxers, he notices that you haven’t been wearing any undergarments. 

“No!” you call back, “I don’t want you to go there! Not yet,” you call back. 

“Then do you want me to buy you some?” he responds, placing the folded clothes on the bathroom counter. 

“Um, maybe we can order some on Amazon.”

“Just send me the link and I’ll place the order.”

“Okay.”

A wave of silence washes over the bathroom, and you peek your head from the shower curtain to see what Jungkook’s up to: scrolling on Instagram. On his screen is some instagram model’s bikini pic, his fingers pausing on the screen so he can look at the photo.  

“Who is that?” you ask, making Jungkook jump in his seat. 

“What the- Y/N, just take your shower!” Jungkook feigns annoyance but can’t help himself but scoff in amusement at how petty you can be.

“Is she prettier than me?” you ask, glaring at Jungkook with disapproval. 

Jungkook purses his lips and tugs the shower curtain past your face and holds it against the wall, preventing you from peeking your pretty head past the curtain. He holds it there for a good minute, unfazed by the thrashing against the shower curtain. 

Swish. 

You swipe open the shower curtain from the other side. Your eyes bore into Jungkook’s and Jungkook thinks you’re foolish not to realize how alluring and sultry you are. Your bare body is akin to a sculpture of the goddess Aphrodite. Water drips from the crevices of your body and you gaze at him with anticipation etched onto your face. You’re just standing there, but your posture is so seductive- or maybe it’s just the natural curvature of your body. 

“Why don’t you join me?” your sweet voice makes his Adam's apple bob in his throat. 

When he doesn’t respond, your features morph into humiliation, regret consuming you. You nod your head. “Sorry Kook, I’ll just-”

“Y/N, you’re gorgeous. Any man can see how lovely you are. Honestly, you take my breath away every time I see you,” Sensing the trepidation on your face, he solidifies his claim, “I mean it Y/N. You’re beautiful, and I want to join you but I’m not going to. You’re hurting right now and I don’t want to do anything to take advantage of you.”

And he isn’t lying, he yearns for every kind of contact with you, but he’s not going to go through with this. Not when you’re traumatized from the death of your parents. Not when you’ve been so unhinged for the past week, refusing to even shower. 

You stare at him for a second, dazy eyed and your eyes darting around the room. “Okay Jungkook. I’m sorry.”

He smiles sweetly at you and gently closes the shower curtain. “It’s okay Y/N. I’m gonna head to my room. You’re welcome to come visit me anytime.”

-

Boys’ night. Jungkook being the handsome stud he is, happens to have friends that are also handsome studs. Jungkook offered to postpone boys’ night but you declined his attempts to make you more comfortable. Jungkook has exerted so much effort to take care of you. There’s no reason for him to forgo time with his best friends. Besides, you can always hide in your room. 

You crack your door open slightly ajar, peeking through the crack to spy on Jungkook and his friends. Antisocial is the perfect word to describe you. 

The sound of the doorbell ringing was your cue to lock yourself in your room. Jungkook knocked a few times, but you were too scared of other people that you didn’t even grace him with a response. 

Clearly Jungkook got the message because he opted to leave a greasy piece of pizza outside your door, sending you a quick text message about it.

You just wanted to scout the scene, see who was there. Mingyu, Taehyung, Jimin, and Namjoon. Soju bottles are scattered around the table, and there’s some music blaring from the TV. You’ve met everyone here a few times- they all know you, but you aren’t close with Jungkook’s friends like he is with your friends. 

“Oh Y/N! Come join us!” You freeze at Mingyu’s words, and all eyes in the room whip towards your direction.

 “Umm..” you close the door gently and leap into the safety of your bed.

You overhear their banter through the wooden door. “Hey! Why are you making little kids uncomfortable!” Jimin yells, slapping Mingyu on the neck. 

Your lip quivers, and you inhale deeply, gathering the courage to step outside of the room. You quickly put on deodorant, and step out stealthily, taking a seat next to Namjoon on the couch. No one seems to notice you, and you tap on his shoulder. Namjoon whips his head towards you, the confusion on his face melting into fondness. 

“Hi,” you squeak out, fiddling with your fingers. 

“Hi Y/N,” Namjoon greets, the kindness laced in his voice assuaging the trepidation bubbling on your inside. Jungkook’s red lava lamp  illuminates the room with shades of crimson, and your eyes flutter shut when a ray of light shines on your face. 

“Are you okay?” Namjoon inquires, holding his hand up to shield you from the light.  

“Yea, I’m fine,” you blink a few times. You don’t say anything, just awkwardly take a bite of your pizza while your eyes dart around the room. 

Namjoon doesn’t seem to know what to say to you either, so the two of you just sit and eat pizza in silence. For a moment, your eyes lock. You owlishly blink at him and he blinks at you for a good minute.  

But then, to your surprise, Namjoon sets his pizza down, opening his arms. Your features scrunch up, and you let yourself melt into his warm embrace, glossy tears rolling down your face. 

“I’m so sorry about what happened,” he expresses, gently caressing the back of your head with his palm. You sniffle. “t’s okay,” you sob, “but I’m so sad. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You’ll get through this. We’re always here for you.”

His words invoke a tornado of intense feelings in your system, and your strong facade crumbles as you become vulnerable in Jungkook’s friend’s embrace. By this point, everyone has noticed your presence, and suddenly the night becomes about you. 

After wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you find yourself sitting in between Jungkook and Namjoon in a “friendship circle”. It’s quite cute that these grown men still sit criss-cross applesauce in a circle, but you’re overjoyed that you’re welcome to the group. 

“I brought you a cake Y/N,” Taehyung announces, handing you a lunchbox cake. With your doe eye, you look towards him before opening the lid of the cake. A lunchbox cake with Snorlax’s face iced on the top.  “Jungkook mentioned that you really liked Pokemon, so I thought you’d find this cute,” he continues, slightly trailing off.  You’re Strong! Is what it reads, and you fall into pieces, your features crumpling up before you burst into tears. 

Jungkook laughs in fondness at the vulnerability of your reaction, wrapping a single arm around your frame. 

“Th-thank you,” you sniffle, offering Taehyung a crooked smile. “Can we eat it together? I don’t want to get f-fat.”

At that, a chorus of no’s echo through the room, and you giggle a bit. 

Your heart is incredibly full. Family. Friends. People who care about you. This is something your soul desires, something your soul needs. 

The night meets its unfortunate end, and you stand in front of Jungkook as you bid his friends goodbye. Before the boys walk away, you find your fingers clinging onto the hem of Jimin’s oversized shirt. Before he ventures off, he turns around and graces you with an endearing look of confusion. “What’s up?”

“Can I come with you?” you spout. 

“You want to sleep over at our place?” Jimin questions, gingerly scratching the back of his head. 

You shake your head steadily, “I just want to talk to you,” you clarify, gazing up at him shyly. Jimin’s eyes dart towards Jungkook’s for approval and Jungkook nods his head. “Go ahead. I’ll give you guys privacy,” he pinches your cheek affectionately before closing the door. You stand on your tiptoes, peeking through the window of the apartment to ensure that Jungkook isn’t eavesdropping. 

Jimin leans against the railings, observing you carefully. 

You tug on the hem of Jimin’s tee, urging him to follow you to the lobby of Jungkook’s apartment. He follows in your stead, not questioning you until your actions pause. You shift around uncomfortably for a bit, and you look up at him. Taking a deep breath, you find the courage to ask him the question that’s been lingering in the back of your mind. 

 “Do you think Jungkook and I could ever.. be a thing?” you finally question, shifting your weight between your feet, a crimson sheen sweeping over your cheeks. 

Jimin’s eyebrows pinch, and he repeatedly opens and closes his mouth, looking for the right words to say. “Like romantically?”

Your eyes cumbersomely drift towards the painting behind Jimin. “Y-yea. I really like him, and I want him to be my boyfriend- and I know he’s attracted to me but won’t act on his feelings because of his ethical qualms,” you stutter out, pursing your lips after seeing how Jimin’s face morphs into astonishment. 

“Well, I don’t think Jungkook is seeing anyone right now- but Y/N, if I’m going to be totally honest, I don’t think you and Jungkook being a romantic pair would be appropriate. I mean, he’s known you since you were a kid. Even if he does like you, I don’t think he would cross those boundaries.” he very gently explains, meticulously finding the correct wording to not hurt your feelings. 

You bite your lip bitterly, sinking into the realization of his assertion. “Yea, you’re right. I don’t know. I guess it’s just a stupid crush,” you dismiss your confession with a wave and offer Jimin a shy smile. 

Jimin pouts at your invalidation of your own feelings. “Don’t say that. I know you’ll find someone who cherishes and loves you. Someone you deserve,” he asserts. You smile at him, nodding before he ruffles your hair and leads you back up the stairs. 

Someone you love. 

Would you ever find it in yourself to love anybody that wasn’t him? Jungkook has successfully monopolized your heart, your soul, your very being. 

Ping!

-

Tonguing his cheek, Jungkook impatiently and abruptly brakes at a red light, accelerating rapidly when the light turns green. He changes from his casual clothes to a black sleeveless shirt, loose leather pants, and a beanie. Mingyu sits on the passenger seat, frantically typing on his laptop as Jungkook zooms down the highway at record pace. 

Breaking into a frat house to terrorize some dumb college kids definitely wasn’t a part of the plan tonight, but Jungkook was down for some last minute terrorism.

“So what are you gonna do? Threaten the kid? Call the cops?”Taehyung questions from the backseat, both hands gripping on the headrest of Mingyu and Jungkook’s seats. 

“Look, I’m really trying to not sound corny, but I’m going to torture him,” Jungkook enunciates, which evokes a few seconds of silence. 

“This bitch-”

“He’s lost his fucking mind,” Mingyu mumbles. 

Jungkook laughs to himself, amused by the comments of his friends. Jungkook is an intelligent, rational person. Normally, he wouldn’t take it this far but he deems it extremely necessary for this particular situation. 

“What the- now he’s creepily laughing to himself-”

“If we tell Y/N about this she’s going to be scared of you,” Mingyu abruptly comments, shooting Jungkook a pointed look. 

Jungkook pauses, seemingly deeply considering the utterance of his friend, toying with his lip ring for a while he finally makes a comment. “I won’t do anything bad. I’ll just intimidate him a little.”

His friends sigh, not pressing further on the matter because Mingyu and Taehyung were pissed off too. Instead, Mingyu rolls down the windows of the car, allowing the breeze of the cool night to consume the interior of the car. 

Jungkook considers this very night a milestone in your healing process. You isolated yourself in his apartment for two consecutive weeks, your grief severely limiting your social capacity and ability to normally interact with people. His friends were privy to your situation, purposely not coming to Jungkook’s home out of respect for you. But tonight, the color that reappeared in your aura overwhelmed his heart with joy.

While you were on the couch, talking to Namjoon about something, Jungkook got an alarming text from one of your friends- Yeonjun. Jungkook is cool with your friends, but not close enough to be sending private text messages, so his eyes brows pinch in concern when he sees the notification pop up from his phone. 

Mingyu’s eyes drifted towards Jungkook, who was noticeably brimming with indignation. Jungkook scoffed to himself, a macabre smirk on his lips before he laughed erratically at the message. He repeatedly wiped his face with his hand, chuckling in amusement. Jungkook discreetly passed his phone to Mingyu without a word, with Taehyung looking over his shoulder, both of them gasping at the message.

This whole time, you were oblivious to the scheme Jungkook was contriving and Jungkook intended to keep it that way. You were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and Jungkook would cut his limbs off to lessen that burden. The indignation and resentment bubbling within him threatens to erupt because he’s so fucking pissed off. 

You’re everything to him, and the thought of you being violated makes him want to indulge in his violent impulses.  He can’t imagine how you would feel knowing that video spread around, and usually he would confide with you about these things but right now he needs to sweep this under the rug and make sure it never comes back up. 

Luckily, he and Mingyu both have degrees in computer engineering and know how to hack into technical infrastructures. 

Jungkook pulls up to the frat house, rolling the window down steadily before he rests his elbow on the ledge of the window. He sits there for a second, toying with his lip ring while his eyes bore into the interior of the house. He’s sure he looks creepy as hell- just staring into the house.

After a few minutes of waiting in silence, some guy arises from the house and approaches the car. 

Jungkook keeps his lips sealed until he’s close enough to perceive his features. 

“Uh is there something yall need?” the guy asks, innocently scratching the back of his head. 

“Yea,” Jungkook responds, voice firm and somewhat chilling, “Your name Josh?”

“Yea? What’s up-”

Jungkook kicks the door open, knocking Josh over until he’s rolled on the floor, clutching his leg as he shrieks in pain. 

“Oh shit, are we really doing this?” Taehyung mutters before joining Jungkook outside the car. 

Jungkook sits on top of Josh, continuously punching the shit out of him before he spits on the kid’s face. He uses a single hand to lift him by the collar, and violently pushes him against the car. “You mad Y/N rejected you? So you pulled that shit?” Jungkook menaces, his face centimeters away from Josh’s. 

Josh whimpers, crying- too horrified to coherently respond. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he pleads, tears and snot streaming down his ugly face. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Jungkook repeatedly bangs Josh against the car. “I’m gonna say this shit once and I’m not going to repeat myself,” he seethes, satisfied by the way Josh whimpers and nods his head pathetically. 

“You’re not shit. You’ll never ever be good enough for Y/N. You’re the same as the shit on the bottom of my shoe,” he breathes against Josh’s face, who whimpers and cries, “If I ever see you messing with Y/N ever again- I will ruin your whole life.”

Josh nods, unable to do anything else. 

“Got it?” Jungkook seethes, pushing Josh’s head against the car door.

“Got it!”

“Good. We’re going inside, and you guys are going to watch us go through all of your iClouds, and we’re going to delete every single copy of the video there is, alright?”

“Yes! Yes! That’s fine! I’m sorry!”

Jungkook scoffs in amusement at his despicable demeanor, before he throws Josh on the ground and enters the house. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Mingyu mumbles, following Jungkook’s lead into the house.

-

You anxiously wait for Jungkook to return home, absentmindedly toying with the Switch to distract from the hysterical thoughts frantically racing through your mind. You’ve done everything you could to distract yourself, your restless heart aching to do something of substance.

 You’ve been isolating yourself from society for the past month simply because you can’t bring yourself to leave Jungkook’s home, as if it was your safe haven. 

You dread the moment you have to return to your home, memories of your family coming to mind. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about everything, and you reckon that it’s time to process everything. There are aspects of grief that you find unfathomable- questions you have that make you want to throw up. 

What will happen to the home that holds the memories of your family within its walls? How will you assimilate back into society without your father, without your mother? You’re not confident that it will ever be the same, and your heart sinks into your stomach at the notion- but you have to be resilient; you have to face it. 

It feels worse to avoid the reality of your life than to face it head on. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorknob turning. 

“Jungkook!” The way you call his name is breathless, and his eyebrows pinch in concern when you pounce on him. Nonetheless, he allows you to nuzzle into his embrace and he soothingly rubs your back- like he always does. 

“Wasn’t gone that long,” Jungkook absentmindedly comments. 

“I know- just missed you. I’m sorry for being clingy,” you murmur, to which Jungkook shakes his head at the absurdity of your words. 

“Not at all. Stay here for as long as you want. I’ll take you with me wherever I go,” he adds, settling into the leather of his sofa. You shuffle after him like a cute little penguin, sitting your ass directly next to Jungkook despite the vacant empty space on your right side. 

“Then am I allowed to sit next to you?” 

Jungkook’s features crinkle up in amusement, nose scrunching as he laughs lightly at how cute you are. He pinches your cheek, “It’s one thousand dollars for every minute you’re within a five foot radius of me,” he comments, tone stoic and firm. 

He doesn’t have to look in your direction to visualize the way your pretty lips fall open, swatting at his bicep for his cruel words. “Jungkook, I don’t have that money! You know I only have 35 cents in my bank account!”

“Okay, then go sit over there,” Your eyes follow the trail of his pointed finger, the corner of the room. 

“Fine! You fucking asshole,” you mutter bitterly, jumping up from the couch and stomping away with a hmph, until Jungkook slyly wraps his hand around the circumference of your wrist and pulls you to him. You collapse onto the couch, your back against his chest, and your butt between his legs. 

He clings onto you, almost suffocating you with the way he wraps his arms around you, grabbing his elbows as he locks his arms over your head. “‘M just kidding- you know that. I can’t survive without my baby either, y’know?”

Your chest erupts with butterflies, and you hold onto his forearm with both of your hands. “I know.”

-

The next day, you return to school. Your professors were so empathetic and understanding to the nuance and confusion of your situation, allowing you to complete your coursework from the comfort of Jungkook’s home. 

Grief isn’t a linear process. Though you’ve found it in you to return to school, it’s the mundane and the typical that you’re becoming increasingly bothered by. 

No one in your Philosophy class is paying attention to this movie, clearly. You can tell by the lit up screens scattered within the clusters of students, and you aren’t diligent enough to not be one of those students, doodling flowers and Snorlax’s on your paper. 

For the second you do look up at the movie, your heart stops. It’s always the most mundane, irrelevant details that get to you. The scene barely occupies a minute and it makes your chest tighten in the worst way possible. 

The main character walks down the wedding aisle, her arm linked with her father’s. The haunting realization settles in your system- you will never ever experience that. You begin hyperventilating, your hand crumpling the paper, and you quickly rest your forearms on the table before shoving your face into your forearms. People are already looking at you and you can’t fathom the humiliation so you stay like that until class is dismissed. 

You finally lift your head, rubbing your eyes to adjust the blinding ceiling lights. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

You shriek at the unexpected voice and whip your head to the left. 

“Hey hey hey- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he breathes out, rolling his chair towards you before rolling back so as to not scare you further. 

“No no, you’re good,” you breathe out, inhaling and exhaling to bring you down from your petrified high. “Just having a shitty day,” you explain, sweeping away the hair dried to your face by your tears. 

He seems to be unable to conjure a proper response, peering at you with an empty gaze and you sink in your seat, feeling the need to further explain yourself. “Well there was that part in the movie where Emma got married, and that made me feel horrible because I recently lost my dad.. And my mom.”

“Wait, I’m sorry. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he articulates, “I just noticed you  haven’t been in class for a while and was kinda worried when I saw you crying. I’m sorry if I pushed your boundaries.”

“You know me?”

His lips tug up in embarrassment as he gingerly scratches the back of his neck. “Well we usually sit next to each other so I thought we formed an acquaintanceship or something,” he mumbles. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” you pout at him, “I usually tap out during class so I never noticed you. What’s your name by the way?” You shyly stick out your hand, and he gives you a straight lined smile before shaking your hand gently. 

“Sunghoon. I-I’m really sorry for your loss by the way,” he adds, and you find his nervousness quite endearing. You shyly smile at him, and he gazes back at you with similar amity. He ever so softly pulls your wrist towards his and scribbles his number onto your forearm. “Feel free to text me if you ever need help with homework. You missed a lot of school,” he offers, and you find yourself giggling at his forth forwardness. 

“Thanks Sunghoon."

-

When  Jungkook returns from work that night, the first thing he’s met with is you shoving your boots on, seemingly ready for a vivacious night out. Your figure is adorned with a white satin slip on dress, and your hair is put up in an elegant updo. Jungkook pauses, eyes settling on your figure before scanning up to your face; he thinks this is the first time he’s seen you with makeup on since he wiped away the mascara running down your cheeks the day he broke the news.

“Hey daddy,” you purr, “Where have you been? The kids have been waiting for you,” you giggle, sliding your mini purse down your arm. 

Jungkook narrows his eyes at you, humorously scoffing at your corny choice of words. 

You giggle, skipping towards him before jumping onto him, latching around his neck before you whisper in his ear. “‘m going out with my friends, don’t wait for me to get home because I might stay the night with Yunjin.”

Jungkook stiffens, remaining frozen while you back up from him. 

“So, do I look like an angel, or what?”

“Always look cute,” because despite the infesting irritation bubbling in his system, he would never not tell you how it is. You are cute, always cute, always like an angel. 

“Thanks,” you giggle, skipping towards the door but before you can skip past him, he latches onto your wrist. “Wait.”

You tilt your head, slightly confused. “I bought something for you.”

He digs in his backpack and pulls it out. Nipple pasties. “You never wear a bra, so I thought you’d be safer if you put these on before you go out.”

“You were the one who said I had small tits!”

“Okay, well you still have nipples- so at least put these on to keep you safe.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but he doesn’t back down. You snatch the pasties from his hand and march into the bathroom. “Fine!” 

Jungkook lounges on the couch, eyes trained on you before you bid him goodbye and skip out of his apartment. He inhales deeply to settle the erratic palpitations in his chest. He needs to stop being so protective of you. 

-

Your arms linked with Yunjin, you skip around from one club to the next, dancing and partying your little hearts out. When the night comes to a close you prance to the local ramen shop around your campus. From a distance, you can already make out Jungkook casually speaking with his friends. He’s always so animated when he’s with his friends, dramatically gesturing and hip thrusting in the air while his friends laugh at his immature jokes. He’s got a cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, taking slow puffs, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs before he tilts his head to exhale a long plume of smoke into the atmosphere. 

That’s right. Jungkook smokes occasionally but never lets you do it. What a hypocrite. 

His eyes drift off for a second until they land on you, and his lips curl up in your presence. 

“Well look, if it isn’t my favorite girl,” he teases, letting out low laughter at the way you crimson when all his friends’ heads whip in your direction. 

You narrow your eyes at him, giving him a dirty look that Jungkook cooes at. Even when you were trying to intimidate him you akin to a cute Snorlax, so adorable, eyebrows pinched and lips pouted- how could he feel anything but adoration at that? 

“Aw angel,” he jests, throwing your words right back at you, “Don’t ignore me, ‘m sorry for teasing you,” he catches you as you walk past him, pulling you towards his chest before resting his chin on top of your head. 

He casually smiles at Yunjin. “How’s my angel been doing? Has she been behaving?”

Yunjin’s jaw drops at the bold statement and you attempt to wrestle out of his firm embrace to berate him. 

Just kidding. It’s getting late, though. Do you girls need a ride home?” he asks, finally letting you go just for you to stumble out of his grip and almost land on your face, but luckily Jungkook pulls your shoulders back without even looking in your direction. 

“Jungkook, it’s literally 10,” you deadpan. 

“Oh c’mon, I don’t want you girls to get kidnapped or something,” he snarkily responds. 

“How about you give us some money instead?” Yunjin jests, clearly joking, but Jungkook takes it so, so seriously. He raises a brow at both of you. “How much do you need?”

“Wait no- I was kidding,” Yunjin quickly clarifies, her ears becoming slightly red, “you don’t have to..”

Jungkook looks from you to her, then back at you before whipping out his phone, taking another puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke upwards, careful so you don’t inhale any smoke.

Ping!

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion when you get a notification, and you unzip your mini purse to grab your phone, allowing the screenlight to illuminate your pretty features.  

JEON JUNGKOOK HAS TRANSFERRED YOU 500 DOLLARS VIA HYBETRANSFER.

“250 each, alright?” Jungkook laughs, taking another puff of his cigarette before he saunters off, his friends pushing him around and teasing him. 

“Ayo, when did Jeon turn into a sugar daddy?”

You and Yunjin are left dumbfounded, even more so when Jungkook turns around and makes kissy lips at you. 

You fall to your knees. 

-

The next morning is the weekend.

You absentmindedly chomp on your cereal, eyes still crusty and mind still hazy from the morning daze. Jungkook arises from his bedroom, hair still messy and sticking out in various directions- but he still looks as handsome as ever, the tired and morning glow suiting him wondrously. 

“So, I’m planning a trip with my friends at the beach. We’ll stay in an AirBnb. You wanna come with?”

You pause, features crinkling up in confusion. “Which friends? The ones from last night or Mingyu and them?”

“Mingyu, Tae, Jimin, Namjoon,” he counts off, before shrugging, “I already planned to take you with me so it’s not like you have a choice anyways.”

You scoff to yourself in amusement. “Aren’t you being too forceful?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes and graces you with a look of skepticism. “So you don’t want to go? or..”

“No!” you rapidly interject as you shoot up, clearing your throat and regaining your composure at the way Jungkook smirks at you. 

You settle back into your seat. “I do want to go,” you exhale, “but do I have to pay for my own room or something? I’m broke.”

“Oh, I was just gonna have you stay in my room,” Jungkook responds, trailing off as he tries to detect any trace of apprehension on your features, “Is that alright with you?”

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you breathlessly exhale. “That’s perfect.”

So that’s how you found yourself at the beach, in nothing but your black bikini, prancing around the waves with Taehyung.

“Jungkook watch!” you call as you swivel around towards Jungkook, who’s applying sunscreen to his legs, not really paying attention to what you were doing. 

You stand in front of the upcoming wave, holding your arms out as if you were going to embrace the wave. “I’m going to stand against the wave!”

At that, Jungkook whips his head upwards, eyebrows pinching in worry as he shoots up. “Tae! Get her! She’s gonna get swept in by-“

And on cue, the wave collapses over you and you tumble into the unwelcoming water. “Motherfuck-“ You thrash and scream, powerless against the unforgiving currents until a pair strong arms pull you from your armpits and drags you to the sand.

“Holy shit Y/N, are you alright?” Taehyung asks, crouching beside you as he pats your back, allowing you to cough the water up.

“Y/N that was so dumb,” you hear Jungkook’s voice as he approaches you, crouching beside you as he hands you his black steel water bottle. “Take a sip,” he urges, and you nod shakily, grasping the bottle with both hands before you take a sip from it.

“I’m okay. Thanks for saving me Taehyung,” you smile at him and he releases a sigh of relief. “You scared the shit out of us!”

You gulp down the water and close the cap, returning his bottle to him. “Sorry, I won’t do that again, but can we get back to playing now?” you smile as you playfully fling a ball of wet sand at Jungkook.

Jungkook closes his eyes on impact, scoffing in amusement before he grabs you by your legs, signalling  Taehyung to grab your arms before they both lift you and run into the ocean.

-

Jungkook waits outside your shared room, knuckles softly knocking on the wooden door. A towel loosely wrapped around his lower waist, water drips from every crevice on his body, but he can’t enter until you’re done changing.

“Oki! I’m done!” you call out, opening the door for him, a towel in your hand as you use it to scrunch up your damp hair. 

“Wow. You’re really muscular,” you giggle, fingers hovering over his abs before you look up at him for approval to feel, to which he gently pushes your head aside and waltzes into the room.

When he’s done changing he beckons you back to the room, and you plop in the king sized bed, belly down and legs swinging back and forth in the air. 

Jungkook lies down beside you, resting his head on the pillow as he scrolls aimlessly on his phone, only looking over when he hears your ringtone go off.

You answer the call almost immediately.

“Oh hey Sunghoon!” you greet, shooting up from the bed to touch up your appearance in the facetime camera.

Sunghoon. Jungkook knows all your friends and he hasn’t heard that name before.

“Hey Y/N, how’s your vacation going?” Sunghoon asks, and you take a seat at the desk, propping your phone up against the wall. You twirl an idle piece of hair around your fingers. “It’s really fun here, I feel great,” you explain, “so what’s up?”

“You look like you’re having fun- wait, is there someone in the room with you?”

You rapidly turn around and look at Jungkook, then tilt your phone at an angle where he isn’t visible. “Oh, he’s just a family friend, do you want me to go somewhere more private?”

“Oh no that’s cool, I was just wondering but I called to ask you about the homework…”

A family friend? Jungkook scowls at that. Wordlessly, he breezes past you and exits the room, closing the door and sits next to Jimin on the couch. 

Jimin takes a few moments to acknowledge Jungkook’s presence. “Hey, is there anything going on between you and Y/N?” Jimin finally asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern when he perceives Jungkook’s sour face. 

Jungkook pauses. “Why are you asking?”

Jimin shrugs. “I don’t know. Don’t you know she has a crush on you? Isn’t it inappropriate for you two to be sharing a room?” Jimin continues, nudging Jungkook with his elbow. 

At that, Jungkook buries his face into his palms. He’s let this go on for far too long. “I know,” Jungkook murmurs, voice projection muffled by his hands. 

“You know? The other day she asked me if it was possible between you two and I straight up told her that you wouldn’t go for it.”

Jungkook remains wordless at that, and he thinks he’s developed an idea of the reality of the situation. 

Jungkook was too scared to address the subject with you; he let it linger for far too long. He didn’t want to burden you with anything else besides what you already had on your plate, and you got in your head about it. He never explicitly stated that he more than reciprocates your feelings, leaving you dangling on a string. 

He’s going to fix that. 

“No Jimin, that’s not it,” Jungkook clarifies, wiping his face with his palms. “I like her too, and I’m going to tell her tonight,” he states firmly, slightly craning his head to gauge Jimin’s reaction. His reaction isn’t what Jungkook expected. Instead of a look of concern, worry, or horror, Jimin looks over the moon. 

“Well shit! I wish I knew that before! You guys look perfect together!” he exclaims before eagerly patting Jungkook on the back. 

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at his friend. “Really? Don't you think I should wait a little longer? Until she's ready?”, to which Jimin simply shakes his head.

“Y/N's an adult. She can handle herself. I thought you wouldn't go for it because of the age gap, though. I guess I shouldn't have told her that," he says gingerly, scratching the back of his head. ”Sorry Kook."

Jungkook doesn't say anything, seemingly in deep contemplation. "It used to bother me,” Jungkook clarifies, "but it doesn't anymore."

“So what’s wrong with it?"

That’s right. There is nothing wrong with it.

-

A cool night on the beach. You feel the cool breeze through your air, the lunar radiance of the moon illuminating the beach. You’re adorned in a lovely, summer-esque two piece set with floral patterns running along the fabric, The top piece is cropped and strapless, exposing your collar bones and belly button piercing, and the bottom piece is a long, flowy skirt that blows marvelously against the wind. 

You gingerly step outside the beach house, enjoying the cool sensation of the night breeze. The guys are all hanging out in the yard, soju bottles and beer cans scattered on the wooden benches positioned on the beach. Namjoon and Jimin are posted up on the benches, chowing down on meat whilst engaging in pretty animated conversation. You spot Mingyu and Taehyung running around the beach, slapping each other and chasing after each other, their dirty heels slipping against the coarse sand. 

Jungkook is stationed at the grill, frying meat for his friends. His tall and built figure is concealed by his loose black T-shirt and black sweat shorts that you have worn a few times during your extended stay at his place. 

You creep up behind him, swiping away the stray hairs that the wind blew into your face. Tapping him lightly on the back, you coyly skmile at him, a bashful glow illuminating your face. 

Jungkook sensed your presence the moment stepped foot from the house, but still acts like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you. He does a double take, eyes scanning up and down your face and body- you look so lovely and elegant in your little two piece set. “Hey,” Jungkook finally returns your greeting, a little breathless. 

“Can I have some?” you ask, pointing to the grill. 

“Uh yea, I actually made a plate for you a second ago,” Jungkook takes the prepared plate of your favorite meats, but pauses before he hands it to you. He hasn’t a clue if you’re doing this on purpose, but you’re looking at him with the sultriest of eyes, and it drives him crazy. His Adam’s Apple bobs in his throat, and he collects himself before handing you the plate. 

You tilt your head, sending him a look of confusion at his hesitance, but Jungkook sees it as a gateway to talk to you. “Y/N, can we talk? Like now?” Jungkook asks, rubbing at the nape of his neck. 

“Sure, what about?” you solicit, setting the plate on the table.

Jungkook immediately shoves his hands in his pockets, and motions his head towards the beach, obliging you to follow him. “About what you told me at your house..” he trails off, “that one time in the middle of the night,” he adds. 

He perceives the way your features morph into embarrassment, so he decides to take the lead on this conversation. He approaches you, standing beside you momentarily before smoothly lacing his fingers through yours. “Let’s go.”

Unable to conjure a proper response, you follow his footsteps in silence until your bodies appear as distant figures by the ocean. With your toes kissing the water washing up on shore, he turns back to look at you, fingers still intertwined. But you stop him before he can open his mouth. 

“Wait- Jungkook. Let me explain myself first,” you begin, thankful that the night sky conceals the obvious bashful glow on your cheeks. 

Jungkook who is seemingly expressionless nods his head, signaling you to let your words out. 

You gently pull your hand from his, twiddling with your fingers before you can speak. “Firstly, I just wanna apologize.. to you,” you begin, ignoring the way his nose scrunches in confusion, “I feel like you’ve been so good to me- you always take care of me. Your family is the only family I have left,” you continue, bashfully tucking an idle strand of hair behind your ear. 

“So I’m sorry for forcing myself on you, and I’m sorry for mistaking your care towards me as romantic affection,” you continue, subconsciously gesticulating with your hands. “I know you said you don’t like it when girls are clingy but I’ve been nothing but clingy, and you still take care of me and care about me.” Your words are passionate, and they’re true. “Everyone told me that a relationship with you would be inappropriate.. but I was too persistent and too selfish. I’m so sorry Kook. You must’ve been so shocked when I yelled at you and when I.. opened that shower curtain,” you finish, shaking your head in embarrassment. 

When you finally complete the sentiment, you tilt your head upwards to gauge his reaction. His eyebrows pinch in confusion, and his mouth is slightly agape. “What?” he asks breathlessly, eyebrows pinching even further. He runs a tired hand over his face. “Y/N- just- I can’t believe you said that. Y/N, I love you. And I don’t care if you’re clingy, and I don’t care what anybody else thinks of us.”

You gasp at his words, a profound sense of emotion absolutely overwhelming you.

“What I care about is what you think of me, and whether you’re happy,” His fingers find yours, and he holds your hand and looks right into your eyes to properly convey his sincerity. “Y/N, I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner. You were just going through so much shit and I didn’t know if you were in the right headspace or if you were even serious about how you felt for me-”

He stops when you yank your hands away from him, using the back of your hands to wipe the tears streaming down your face. The shapes of his eyes turn into little crescents, petrified at your reactions. He removes your hands from your face, holding your wrists. 

“Y/N, don’t cry. Please say something.”

“Jungkook, it’s too late. I-I don’t think I can do this- with you- I mean,” is all you’re able to say and Jungkook’s chest tightens impossibly.

His heart drops to your stomach, a crestfallen expression morphing onto his handsome features. “I-is that how you really feel?”

Another tear streams down your face and Jungkook itches to wipe it but suppresses that urge.

“I love you Jungkook. I do. I really do!” you cry out, “But I can’t date you, ever. I never want to lose you,” you sob between sniffles. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m sure of it!”

The situation is bitterly ironic. Jungkook spent months tiptoeing around his feelings, your feelings, because he wanted to ensure he was what you wanted. Even when you blatantly threw yourself at him, he made the conscious decision to not pursue you. He spent months deciding your feelings for you- and now you’re telling him you don’t want him and he can’t do anything but accept it. 

“Y/N, you’ll never lose me. I’ll always be here. Even if you change your mind.. I’ll always be here.”

“Jungkook, I lost my whole family. You’re all I have left,” you explain, trailing off a little bit, “If I lose you then I have nobody.”

“No, I swear- Y/N, you’re it for me, and I mean it.”

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks, eyes, and nose once more. “What- hiccup- does that mean?”

“It means… whatever you want it to mean,” he concludes. 

“Jungkook…” you trail off, “Don’t wait for me. If you find a girl you like, then you should go for her. All I want is for you to be happy. It’s what you deserve,” you offer him a soft smile, a direct juxtaposition to your tear stained cheeks.

His chest tightens at that and he shakes his head. “You’ll always be my priority. Me? I’ve dated enough girls, I can be single for the rest of my life.”

You immediately swat his chest at the sentiment. “No, Jungkook. You should be with someone who takes care of you, not someone you have to take care of all the time. I’ll just always be your family friend who had a stupid crush on you in college.” Your attempt to lighten the atmosphere is futile and makes Jungkook’s scowl deepen. 

“You’re more than that to me. You’ll always be.” His hand latches onto yours, and you pull yourself from him. 

“No Jungkook.. I’ve made up my mind. I really don’t think we could ever…” When your voice breaks and more tears accumulate in your waterline, Jungkook stops you, not wanting to cause you any more pain. 

“I got it, Y/N. But just know I’ll always be here… in any way you’ll take me.”

READ PART 2 HERE

taglist: @babycandy111 @jk97bam @bellagrayson-wayne @honeeybunneey (can't be tagged), @talyaaas-blog , @jjeonjjk7 , @lovingkoalaface , @rvck0lover (can't be tagged), @kissyfacekoo , @dontcribuyabag (can't be tagged), @ash07128 , @cinnamonbambii , @jeon-ruby , @starlight-1010 , @hellbornsworld , @dodoneck, @papiibuprofen , @canyon-lwt , @appleh4ad , @screamertannie , @jeonjenny (can't be tagged), @ahgasegotarmy116 , @badaismygf (can't be tagged), @oopscoop , @gabsrecs , @hiii-priestess , @junniesoleilkth (can't be tagged) , @caro134340lina , @ellesalazar

[luxeslore]

DILF!simon is rotting my brain rn and i need more<3

consider this a follow-up to this post.

18+ CONTENT, MDNI -> themes & warnings: f!reader, heavier / plus sized!reader, mentions of weight gain, pregnancy + parenthood, simon is a handsy pervert (out of love) in every scenario, some sneaky bathroom sex.

many grueling months fly by and as expected, a baby is born. and yes— as cliché as it may sound, everyone and their literal mothers were right when they said all the discomfort and fussing would be worth it the second you see your pudgy, bundle of joy. a baby girl with wispy blonde hair and a scowl that could rival her father’s any day. she’s perfect. the spitting image of all the best parts of you and simon combined and oh, you’re crying again just thinking of it.

your shared world becomes a whirlwind of bottles and pacifiers and diapers, and neither of you would trade it for anything ever. not even simon who’s sure that your beautiful but screaming baby is definitely helping him go grey quicker as more time passes. until she’s eight months and mostly babbling instead of screeching— has rolls of fat on her arms and legs leading up to her tiny hands and feet, shiny eyes, and cheeks that make your hearts melt into puddles. again, she’s perfect. your whole family agrees, too.

as simon says, your whole entire fuckin’ family— he wasn’t too happy when they shared they’d be visiting. mostly because you already have too much to worry about and now being a pretty, little host is thrown into the mix. you don’t seem to mind much as you walk around the get together with the baby on your hip, checking on everyone to see if they’ve helped themselves to enough food while your baby giggles along. his two sweet girls.

“thought i’d never catch up t’you,” he gruffs behind you.

you hear the sound of him placing his can of beer down on the kitchen counter and before you can move on your feet to grab another out of fridge for him, he stops you.

“enough,” it’s not harsh. it’s breathy and amused— “just relax for a second, mumma. everyone’s fine, babygirl’s with your mum. breathe.”

breathe. maybe you forgot how to do that today.

at that, you melt against simon. you rest your dewy forehead against the stone wall of his chest and he’s quick to pat your head, to trail a hand down your back in a soothing caress. he doesn’t mean to reach the hem of your sundress. just happens naturally, and so does the way he grabs up your thighs that have gotten deliciously plump under the stresses of motherhood. filled you out in all the right places that he already loved so much. he could haul you up and have you right there— “simon, we can’t.”

“think we can do whatever we want in our house, dollie.”

you hate when he’s right, and you hate how you let him yank you into the bathroom down the hall of all places. the click of the lock makes whatever anxiety hanging around in your chest finally dissipate. you’re hoisted up onto the sink before you can bat your lashes at simon, and the next second you’re wrapped up in a nasty kiss he places on your lips. it’s nearly all tongue as you whimper into his mouth, tugging at his shirt while his own hands make quick work of your dress.

the material becomes bunched up around your squeezable waist, exposing your comfy panties to simon and leaving you half bare— “we’ve gotten too comfortable with quickies,” you cant help but whine the words out.

you miss the days of him laying you down and making you cum until you just can’t take it anymore, and vice versa.

“i know, i know,” he attempts to soothe you through sweet, rough kisses. “gonna take good care of you soon, promise.”

you nod along to his words. only to softly gasp when he finally pulls your undies to the side.

simon always takes a second to play with your pretty cunt, rubbing a thumb through your messy folds and circling your clit how you like it. loves to watch your thighs lock up and hear you squeal his name like you used to when you first started dating— some things will never change no matter how settled down you two are. his cock aches in his jeans as you pussy drools around nothing. you’re about to open your mouth, about to tell him you both need to hurry.

but he’s already unbuckling his belt, eager to make you forget that there’s other people in the house aside from you two for even a few minutes.

[queenothegeeks]

Awkward creator reader drabbles

This is based off a previous post about the reader being an awkward creator.

(warning, this all based off of chaotic ideas me and a friend had while on call, and this is not beta read, so I apologize for any bad spelling or grammar)

Imagine, just, having tea with Zhongli, and he's just talking about wine or something boring idk, and he notices that you look a little zoned out, like, eyes glazed over, mind clearly elsewhere. While he’s worrying about The Creator not liking him or whatever, you are just trying to figure out how to process being in another world, with all these people that you know everything about, but at the same time, don’t know anything at all. 

When you notice him looking at you weird and not talking anymore, you worry that you may have missed something important. So you just blurt out the first thing that came to mind, to fill the silence. 

“It's kinda funny that you're working under Hu Tao. She’s like, a billion years younger than you. Also, you should cool it on the adventuring, you might throw your back out gramps.”

And then, realizing what you said, you just grab your now lukewarm  (yes, he was talking for that long) cup of tea (or whatever else you want if you don’t drink tea)  and take a long sip, trying to hide your red face. 

(Bonus, you choked on your tea) 

Imagine going to Fontaine, and just gawking at the scenery there. Imagine, in order to find out about where in the timeline you are (and because you want to see some of your favorite characters) you decide to go to the opera house, and see if there's a trial going on, where you can ask Furina or Neuvillette about the wellbeing of Fontaine. Instead, you find a flier for Lyney and Lynette's magic show at a nearby theater. Deciding to go, you pay the ticket master, who looks in slight shock as the creator buys back row seats like a normal person (you were too scared to ask for a better seat while paying, so you just asked for the cheapest one) 

Sitting down, you wait nervously for the show to start, all being completely ignorant of the panic and rumors backstage. 

“The creators here! At our show!?”

“Calm down, it's fine, we don’t even know if it’s true.”

And, just to stir the pot, a tall lady sits next to you. You feel like you should know her from somewhere, she just seems so… familiar. 

Realizing you had been staring for quite a while, you turn your head back to the stage, waiting for the show to start. About midway through the show, you realize who it is you are sitting next to.

The knave, fourth of the Fatui harbingers. 

At the end of the performance, you shift in your seat, suddenly wayyyyyy more self-conscious than you were at the beginning of the show.  Wanting to say everything and nothing at the same time, you decide it's best to shut your mouth for the time being. It’s probably not even her, why worry-

“Excuse my rudeness, would you happen to be the creator?”

She knew you were of course, hence why she chose to sit next to you, instead of the front row seat that was reserved for her, as it always was at one of her children's performances. 

“I.. am… but you can call me y/n! I don’t really like fancy titles or anything! Would you be the Knave? Or do you prefer Arlecchino? ack-wait , sorry. I’ll shut up now, let's start fresh, what do you think of the show?”

You half say-half shout, flailing your hands around, and then shrinking in your seat, trying to become as small as possible. Arlecchino chuckles.

“I think it was a lovely performance, as they always are. My children are very talented, you know.” 

“Y-yeah! They're really great! I have to go! Great meeting you miss-Arlecchino-Knave-ma’am” 

You say as you bolt out of the room, the embarrassment and social awkwardness you naturally possess driving your feet. 

(Bouns, you tripped over your own feet and wanted the floor to swallow you whole) 

@lorkai

[norizz-nation]

Could you write something for Lando after the christmas dinner with both of your families and you were needy and wanted his attention so you kept teasing him through the whole dinner till he couldn't stand it anymore, so he grabbed you and took you both to your house early so he could fuck the attitude and bratiness from you. Thanks

Brats Like You | L.N4

Summary: When it comes to having dinner with both your families, things can turn out pretty wild.

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, degradation, choking, dacryphilia, hair pulling, usage of belt to tie reader’s hands, orgasm denial

“You didn’t have to do this, right?” Lando asked, sounding disappointed as you looked at him with confusion on your face. “Do what, baby?” You acted like you didn’t know. He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw as he focused on driving. “Do what?” You asked again, hoping for his answer this time. Although you knew what’s the answer. “You know exactly what.” He stated coldly as his hands gripped on the steering wheel so hard that you could see his knuckles turning white.

You did know what Lando meant. It’s not like it was an accident when you wore a dress that revealed a bit of your back. Well, most of your back. You did that on purpose. And he knows that. He knows that you just like to be a slutty little brat in front of everyone. He also knows that you know how fucked out you’re left when he’s done showing you the consequences of your actions. “Can’t even behave for once.” He murmured as his jaw clenched hard.

Fuck, you really made him mad.

“Just behave and don’t try to be a bratty little girl and don’t do anything stupid that you might regret later.” He told you as he guided you to the table where both of your parents were sitting.

“So, how’s everything, y/n?” Lando’s mum asked as you smiled at her innocently from across the table, “Well everything is going absolutely great.” You said as you placed your hand on Lando’s thigh, well, his upper thigh. This made Lando breathe nervously as his arm that was resting on your chair softly taps the back of your neck with his finger to signal you to stop whatever you’re planning to do.

But did you stop? No.

“Right, baby?” You asked him as your hand slowly moved towards his crotch, making him move a little under your touch. “Right, yeah.” He said as he took a sip of his wine. Your fingers twirled around his crotch and you stopped right where his belt is. You acted like you’re going to unbuckle it which made Lando push your hand away.

“Hey baby, come here. You have something on your face.” The way he said that assured you that there’s nothing on your face. But, you still move your face close to him as he brushes your cheek and whispers, “Don’t you dare behave like a fucking slutty brat here. Because you know that your ‘little acts’ have consequences, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said, smirking at him. At this point, you’re just trying to see how much you can play with his nerves. “Alright, sweetheart you wanna play? Then let’s play, come on.” He said as you looked at him with confusion, not knowing what he’s going to do next.

This evening went slower than usual. It felt like this wasn’t going to end. But surprisingly it was only 15 minutes. You couldn’t stop but wonder what Lando meant by his “play”.

Your thoughts got distracted when you heard Lando saying that he’s not feeling that good and needs to go home as soon as possible.

“Oh honey, we just started our talk.” Your mum said as Lando smiled innocently. “I know mum, but my head is aching so much. I can’t take it anymore.” He said as both your parents started to get worried.

Right. He’s definitely not sick.

“What the fuck were you doing?” He questioned as you winched in pain. The grip around your neck tightening more and more. “Answer. Me.” He spat those words as you let out a little smirk that made him more mad. “Oh is it funny, huh?” He asked as you nodded lightly. The smirk not leaving your face.

It didn’t take much time for him to get you positioned on your hands and knees. “Let’s see if you still find it funny after I’m done with you tonight.” He stated as he unbuckled his belt and tied your hands behind. “B-baby please.” You pleaded as Lando pulled on your hair, whispering, “Please? Brats like you don’t deserve this cock. Now keep your face down and ass up.” He said as he slowly trailed his fingers down your spine. Making you squirm for more.

“Please baby please.” You pleaded again and Lando just scoffed at your words. “Already needy?” He asked in a taunting tone and you just nodded. “P-please.” You pleaded. Again.

He then teasingly pushed your lacy panties aside asking, “Please what, huh?” “Please just fuck me already. Baby please I want you to fuck me.” Your needy words made Lando grin a bit. “Always wanting my cock like a dumb little slut, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but whine out as you nodded your head, answering him. He then pulled on your hair a bit harder than before asking, “I need your fucking words. Say it. Do you want my cock just like the dumb little slut you are?”

His question made your cheeks burn as you could assure that is damn red now. “Y-yes, yes I want i-it.” You managed to say as you could feel your thighs stick with each other from how wet you’re.

This “play” was torturing you. All you want is just to get yourself off. No matter how. “Wow this brat can finally get some words out of her mouth instead of just whining.” He taunted.

Your head felt fuzzy. It felt like the world was falling apart. As if you two are the only people alive on earth. All you could focus on was him. Only him.

Every thrust made you scream a bit louder than before. His belt definitely left a good bruise on your wrists.

“F-fuck baby, y-yes right t-there!” You screamed out when you felt him hit the perfect spot that makes your body shake uncontrollably. “Fuck, your pathetic little pussy clenches so fucking hard around my cock.” He said breathlessly as you could hear his groan fill the room.

“I’m g-gonna-” you couldn’t even finish your sentence and Lando pulled out and started to jerk himself off which made you squirm and cry out for more of his cock.

His warm cum coated your ass and some landed on your hands. “Oh my God. Please Lando…” You pleaded and he scoffed at you. Coming closer, whispering, “Still find it funny? I don’t think so. See that’s the reward for your ‘little acts’. Now let’s see how long you can squirm for.”

Fuck, his ‘play’.

A/N: Your baby is back with another fic! I’m sorry for not writing for a while but I’m back now. Hope y’all like this one. As always requests are open so feel free to ask what you want me to write. I love you. ❤️

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead On Main AU Part 4

Masterpost

Jason listens carefully to Jazz’s half of the conversation, but Jazz seems to be mostly listening. Jazz says he’s taking him to Nasty for dinner, which Jason can’t say he’s excited about. He doesn’t know if Nasty is supposed to be describing the food or the place. Either way it is not comforting that whatever Nasty is, it is somehow a better source of food than his soulmate’s house. 

Eventually Jazz hands the phone back to him. 

“Everything good?” Jason asks.

“Yeah, your dad, Dick, and Tim are going to be driving me over, but It’s a long drive so Jazz will get you dinner and then you can do whatever. I have a gaming system, and you’re welcome to use my bed. If you need help finding clothes, or really with anything, then Jazz will help you.”

“Got it.” Long drive with B, Dick, and Tim. They’re all going to interrogate him immediately. While he’s trapped in a box with them for hours. “Hey, my family is really nosy and they will pry and they have no emotional cues so they will not know when to stop. Just… Tell them if they’re bothering you, and you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.” Jason doesn’t know who will be worse in this scenario. Bruce is going to interrogate him for literally everything, Dick is probably going to be all relationships and feelings, Tim is a nice in-between which just means he’ll probably support any and all interrogating. 

“Same goes for you. Jazz is studying to be a psychologist, and my entire family forgets that we’re not all test subjects for whatever they’re working on. Mom and Dad with their gadgets, and Jazz with her… studying and analyzing you. There are no boundaries.” 

“Oh, I’m familiar with that concept.” Jason chuckled.

“Well, given the circumstances I’d say if we can survive each other’s families that’s probably a pretty good sign.”

Kid is probably right. Fate and everything. 

Jazz goes out to clear a path to the door, making sure there are no weapons to run into. When she gets back she leads Jason out, but when they get to the ground floor Jason is grabbed. 

“Happy Birthday Dann-o!” The person holding him is tall. Very tall compared to Danny, and taller than Jason in his regular body. He has black hair and it looks like he's wearing a jumpsuit. After squeezing to the point where Jason couldn't breath for a second Jazz gets the man to put him down. 

“Dad, this isn't Danny right now.” 

“What do you mean princess, of course it is!” 

A woman comes around the corner to stand next to the man, she is also in a jumpsuit but she has Jazz’s red hair.

“Guys, it's his sixteenth birthday.” So Danny's parents remember his birthday but not how old he is? Could be that they’ve forgotten the significance of a person’s sixteenth birthday, but given it should be an important day in a child’s life, they should have remembered.

“We know it's his birthday dear.” The woman comes over to give Jason a hug as well, but this one is less painful. And she's tall too, Jason is not used to feeling this short anymore.

“Mom, Dad, this is Jason. Danny’s soulmate.” The both of them just blink for a second. Jason, this is Drs. Jack and Maddie Fenton, Danny’s parents.”

“Nice to meet you both.” Jason gets out.

“Well, this is wonderful!” Dr. Fenton-Maddie says. “Figures Danny would be the younger one. Are you going to be here for dinner?”

Jason glances over at Jazz.

“No, you told us that you would be busy, so we already made plans.” Jazz sidesteps the invitation. Jason couldn’t tell if that was true or a lie to get him out of the situation. Would they tell their son that they were too busy to have dinner with him on his birthday? He wants to think the answer is no. “Shame Danny will be missing out, but we’ll save his presents for him.”

“Alright, well you kids have fun then!” Maddie and Jack left as quickly as they came, rambling about something that Jason could not understand.

“They didn’t want to know where Danny is? Who he’s with? Where we’re going? Anything?” Jason turned to Jazz who had a pinched look on her face.

“Neither of us get up to much trouble, they’ve trusted us for a while now.” 

“Trust him to be magically transported who-knows-where?” Jason is almost stupefied by the utter lack of regard for Danny’s well-being. He is insulted on his soulmate’s behalf. “He could be in another country for all they know! They didn’t even ask!”

Jazz nods. “Best not to think about it. Everything is turning out alright anyways. Now come on, let’s get dinner.”

Jason is seething, but doesn’t think it will do much good to argue with her here so he decides to calm down. He startles a little when he realizes how easy it is to calm down in this body. Just decide to, and then move on. None of the lingering churning in his gut or fog in his mind. 

He frowns as he follows Jazz out the door, hoping that Danny’s not having too hard a time in his body.

[shawnxstyles]

personal

DATE: JULY 24, 2023

summary: you and harry are best friends who tell each other everything. or so you thought. when harry finds out you’ve barely done anything sexual, he offers to change that. and then things get a little… personal.

song: Glitch- taylor swift (this song seems fitting)

words: 6.5k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [rubbing, fingering, nipple play, praise kink], mirror sex, cum tasting??, dirty talk), and language.

note: i literally wrote this in a few days i think. this idea is so basic, but who doesn’t love a cliché concept? PART 2

bestfriend!fratrry x inexperienced!reader (because i literally write no one else and fratrry is the love of my life)

—

Harry had a lot of friends. People that he grew up with and some that he met along the way that just stayed. But you were his number one overall, and he told you everything. You told him everything too.

Well, almost everything.

It never really caught his attention that you guys never talked about sex. You guys have been friends for 15 years, since you were five, so you’d think it would have been brought up at least once. But now that Harry thinks about it, he can’t think of one time you’ve talked about the act.

He didn’t think it would be like this. And he didn’t think you’d answer like that.

You and Harry were casually hanging out on a free school day, just like you always do. And then you start talking about this date you went on and how the guy was great. Harry was happy for you, he really was. All he wanted was to see his best friend happier than happy. However, being the best friend he was, he was nagging and joking with you.

“Think he’s the one, eh?” Harry jokes, nudging your shoulder playfully on your couch.

“Oh, stop it. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. Yeah, Mike seemed like a decent guy and maybe you could have a relationship for a short time, but he was nowhere near “the one.”

You weren’t too desperate for a relationship, you liked whatever came to you. This cute guy asked you on a date a week ago and you weren’t going to say no. Because what if he was the one? He wasn’t, but what if?

“Imagine it, Doll,” Harry started. He began calling you Doll when you two were just kids. You loved to collect dolls of all sorts, but you never dared to take them out of the box. Harry thought it was silly, but also cool. “picket white fence, beautiful lake house. Kids runnin’ ‘round—”

He saw your face cringe at the word kids. He tilted his head in confusion, arm moving to rest behind you on the couch. He scoots closer to you and waits for you to respond.

“No kids for me,” You awkwardly chuckle. It seemed almost sad the way you sounded.

“What? Thought you wanted to be a mum?”

“Not anymore,” You breathed out with an awkward smile, “need a husband to do that.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout getting a husband. Shouldn’t stop you from wanting ‘em,” Harry smiled sincerely at you and you nodded while looking down.

“Plus, you could always just go out on the street and ask some good-lookin’ lad to be the father of your kids!” You socked Harry hard in the shoulder. He lets out a hearty laugh because he always ruins a sweet moment with a stupid joke. That’s just how you like it though.

“I’m not a prostitute!”

“Never said tha’.”

“Can we just watch some TV? You’re annoying me,” You roll your eyes as you reach for the remote. Harry continues to laugh as you switch the television on.

When you’re indecisive, you toss the remote to Harry and he shuffles through the stations. He lands on a random one, also indecisive. You guys were too similar sometimes.

“Look on your phone for somethin’ and then I’ll find it. I’m done searching.”

“You looked for like two seconds!” You laughed at his laziness. He shrugs with a smile, leaning into the couch. Again, you roll your eyes playfully before doing a bit of research on your phone.

Suddenly, a moan echoes throughout your living room and your whole body stiffens up. Harry notices and tears his eyes away from the screen, which was portraying the sexy noises. You don’t look at him even though you can feel his eyes burning into you.

“Alright?” he asked out of concern, peering at your rigidness. He’s only ever seen you get like that when you were anxious or scared, but nothing happened. Maybe you saw something scary on your phone?

“Uh, yeah,” You squeaked as the TV moaned again. Your face cringes and you force yourself to keep your eyes on your phone.

“Y/N, seriously,” Harry stares between you and the screen when she noisily moans again. The woman was being eaten out by the man and was being overly loud. Her back was arching and her breasts were on display. The movie was inappropriate, 18+ for sure, but it was nothing you hadn’t seen before. Right? You were both 21 years old.

“This… just makes me a tad uncomfortable is all,” You answered honestly, voice quiet as your legs tightened together. Harry’s eyebrows pursed together.

“Uncomfortable? Why?” he couldn’t help the question that slipped out of his mouth. He was too curious to know why a little movie made you stiff yet fidgety.

Unless… you were feeling something different than uncomfortable.

“No,” You shook your head and attempted to push yourself off the couch. Harry didn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and pull you back. He didn’t want you to run away and for you to feel like you couldn’t tell him something.

“Just tell me.”

“No,” You stood your ground, way too embarrassed to say something. Way too embarrassed to admit that you’ve never had sex before. Way too embarrassed to admit you’ve never done anything more than rub your own clit. Once. And it didn’t even feel that good.

Your skin was fiery and… tingly. Harry was much closer to you than he previously was because he pulled you closer to him. Your bare thighs were touching, warm on warm with a sudden spark. You didn’t know you weren’t breathing until you inhaled deeply at Harry’s hooking stare.

“Doll, you tell me everything, but you can’t tell me why a little porn makes you uncomfortable? Because I know it’s tha’.”

“Ugh,” You groaned between clenched teeth. You threw your head back until it hit the top of the couch. Harry’s grip on your wrist never left you. He squeezed it reassuringly, letting you know that he supports you in whatever you’re going to say.

Are you really about to say it?

“Y/N, just—”

“No.”

“I thought we were best friends—”

“Do not pull that card!”

“But—”

“I’ve never had sex before, okay?” You shouted over Harry’s pleading voice and the echoing moans from the television. You’d think by the time you had a whole argument they’d be done having sex, but nope.

Harry was cut off, so his mouth was slacked open. Once he realizes his jaw is on the floor, he blinks a few times to really process what you’ve said. If you had told anyone else, they would have harshly judged you. Harry wasn’t necessarily too different, but he was your best friend, and he was going to try his hardest not too. Harry was just more shocked if anything. He had a handful of different bodies, enough to give him a good amount of experience. So when he finds out you’ve done nothing, he’s beyond surprised to his core.

“But you’ve had so many dates,” Harry looks over at your face, which was looking down at your lap. Your wrist was still trapped in his hand, but you were twiddling your thumbs like you were in trouble. He starts rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb over your knuckle. Your skin was so hot, and Harry’s theory of you being turned on continued in his mind.

Did you even know what that meant? You were naive, right?

“So? That doesn’t mean anything,” Your attitude was shining through. But deep down, you were more embarrassed than anything. This was just your coping mechanism. And of course, Harry knew that.

“Surely you’ve done something else,” Harry suggests. You pin him with a knowing look and a long blink.

“I haven’t,” You answered before even hearing his question. He clearly doesn’t care about your reply because he’s asking you a series of interrogation questions.

“Have you had someone eat you out—” Harry points to the screen, but it was on a commercial break now. You got the point, but Harry clearly didn’t.

“No,” You grumbled.

“What about fingering—”

“No.”

“A toy?”

“Where would I even buy that?”

“Or—”

“No, Harry. Nothing.”

“Not even rubbing?” he asks. You stay quiet, unsure if you want to admit the one-time experiment you did.

Why does it even matter? You tried it and you realized you don’t like it, so you never have to do it again right?

“Not… really,” You hesitated. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion while your skin burned at boiling temperature.

“Humping?”

“No—I tried to…” You couldn’t get the words out. Not ever you’d think. But especially not with Harry so close to you. His body was warm, not as warm as yours, but it was eliciting something inside of you that you couldn’t comprehend. The way he nonchalantly said so many dirty things made you dizzy.

“Tried to what?” Harry was thinking of so many things you could say. He wanted to finish your sentence, just like how he wanted to finish you until you were crying his name and soaking him. But he wanted to hear you say it. He’s never thought of you in such an explicit way, but with the words and tension floating in the air it was hard not to.

“…do it myself.”

“And how did that work out, Doll?”

“Um,” You didn’t expect him to ask. Your neck and cheeks light up in small flames. Where did this come from? “I…”

“What? I thought you could tell me anything?” When your eyes flickered up to his, they were a dark, swirling green you’ve never seen on his face before. Your heart skipped a dangerous beat, frightened with anticipation.

“I know, I can. But this… it’s different.”

“How so?”

“It’s personal—”

“Best friends are personal.”

“But not like this. Best friends don’t do this,” You tried to get up again, nearly ripping yourself away from his grip. But you were in too deep now. Harry wasn’t going to let this one slide. His mind was thinking about one thing and one thing only.

You.

He yanks you back and twirls you around, releasing your wrist in the process. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you down to his lap. You couldn’t contain the slight gasp you let out at the feeling of his strong legs beneath you. Your legs were on either side of him, tempting to squeeze shut. Every movement you made Harry would feel in this position.

“Best friends can say anything. They can do anything too,” Harry’s hands caress your thighs. They’re comforting and inviting, but are also sending a field of goosebumps along your skin warning you to flee. It’s hard to focus on anything but his touch and the vibration of his words through the air. “Now, tell me, did you rub yourself?”

“Yes,” You stutter, trying to stop your hips from squirming on his lap. He notices and grips one side of your body to steady you. It only makes you want to shift more. His touch was almost overwhelming, but you wanted more of it.

Was it wrong to want more of your best friend’s touch?

“Did it feel good?”

“No,” A part inside of you was a bit disappointed that it felt so bland. You thought masturbation was this great thing, and that’s why people did it so frequently. You heard it was also a stress-reliever, but for you, it was just a stress-inducer. Harry could tell by your tone that you weren’t lying.

“Well, you probably weren’t doing it right,” Harry replies and you look up at him with a slightly startled expression and a scoff. You didn’t expect his response to be so straightforward, like he was a doctor diagnosing you with some disease.

“How could I do it wrong? Don’t I just rub…?”

“Baby, it’s much more than that,” Harry said sincerely. He’s never called you baby before, but the nickname had your heart jumping. “Were you even wet?”

“What? I—probably? I don’t remember…”

“You would remember.”

“The experience wasn’t very memorable,” You grumble with an eye roll.

“Do you want me to show you?”

His question had your head spiraling. He wanted to what? There is no way. There is no way those words just left Harry, your best friend’s, mouth.

“W-what? That’s way too personal!” Your eyes were wide and your skin was burning. You were nearly dizzy with this whole conversation and your stomach was tight. You thought you might need to lie down for a while.

Maybe you were sick. Yeah, that’s it.

“Best friends are personal, Doll. Just let me show you, yeah? And then we never have to talk about it again. If y’don’t want. Please,” Harry’s charm was convincing you. Everything about him was luring you in, completely different than ever before. The way his eyes was dark and his touch was warm made you feel wanted and needed, which was contrary to your past dates. They didn’t look at you this way, nearly beg for you this way. They didn’t show you anything. They wanted you because they wanted to get their dick wet, but they hated the idea of a virgin.

And Harry’s familiar. He’s safe. You don’t have to be afraid when you’re with him. But then why are you so nervous?

Harry was willing to teach you how to do the one thing you’ve been curious about your whole life, and you’re going to pass up the opportunity, why? Because he’s your best friend?

Isn’t that supposed to make it better?

“Okay, fine,” You inhaled as your hands gripped onto his T-shirt on his shoulders. You had convinced yourself to let the words slip out. “Show me.”

You were agreeing almost as if this wasn’t a big deal for you. But to Harry, it was. He would take your firsts, and something about that filled him with pride. A smirk slowly rides up on his lips, “Now?”

A blush cascades through your body. Of course he didn’t mean right now!

“I-I thought you meant—”

“Shh, relax, Doll. I was just makin’ sure,” he smirks again, pulling you closer to him. He loved watching you get all squirmy and flustered more than he thought. You could feel his body heat more than ever now, and you’re surprised you lasted this long on his lap without dying. “I’m going to give you a few options, okay?”

With anxiousness, you nodded and swallowed.

“When we do this, you have to talk. So use your words, Y/N,” You knew he was being serious when he said your name, so you replied with yes and then he was giving you your options.

“So, I can lay you down right here on the couch and show you how to rub your little clit,” his explicit words were making your privates ache, but it wasn’t painful. It kind of felt… good? You felt a foreign liquid dampen your underwear, and you can only assume that’s the wetness Harry was talking about. “Or, you can do it yourself on m’thigh with my help. Which one sounds like something y’want to do?”

“The first one,” You answered, painfully desperate to squeeze your legs together to stop this ache. “But how will I see what you’re doing?”

Harry thought for a moment. You made a good point. How were you supposed to learn simply from feeling? Harry knew you were a bit of a visual learner, so he wanted to make sure you saw how to pleasure yourself correctly. And he knew the perfect way to do that.

“I actually have a third option. But s’not really a choice anymore,” Harry doesn’t say anything after, he just lifts himself and you off the couch without warning. You wrap your arms and legs around his body like a koala, making sure you don’t fall. His warmth encompasses you back and you wish you could just stay there forever.

Familiar. Safe.

When your head peers up from his shoulder, you’re in his bathroom. Your eyebrows pinch together, curious as to what his third choice was.

He sets you down on the floor until your feet are planted. You unwrap your arms from him, still confused.

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” Harry’s eyes were still dark, and you wondered if they would ever go back to the strong, emerald green they used to be.

“Yes, of course,” You didn’t hesitate to answer. There was no one that you trusted more than Harry that wasn’t in your bloodline.

“Okay,” Harry breathes, “Strip f’me. Keep your bra and underwear on.”

You nearly questioned him in shock. But then you remembered what the whole goal of this was. He was going to show you how and you were going to listen, right? So you did.

Carefully, you stripped yourself of your clothes. He’s seen you in bathing suits before, and some were revealing, so this can’t be as bad, right? Harry didn’t peel his eyes away although you wanted him to. He hasn’t seen you naked since you two were little kids, and even though you weren’t naked, it felt like you were with his burning gaze. Obviously, there were some changes too. Like height, hair, breasts, ass… the whole thing. Harry doesn’t say anything until you’re in your undergarments.

A swimsuit is definitely different.

“Good. Now, c’mere,” Harry sits down on the floor, a few feet away from his full-body mirror. His body was up against the bathtub wall to keep himself steady. You slowly lowered yourself to the floor, wondering what was going on through his head.

He pulls you between his legs until you’re pressed against his body. His warmth radiated through you far better with less clothes on and your body ached some more. Your legs closed to squeeze it away.

“Nuh uh,” he declines. Harry grips your thighs with his ringed fingers and yanks them apart. You gasp at the extreme vulnerability and the coolness that waves over your privates. He throws your legs over his and bends them slightly, making you unable to move at all. “Keep them open, yeah?”

You nodded, but that’s not what he told you to do.

“Words.”

“Yes. Keep them open.”

“Good girl. You’re learning,” Harry smiled and looked towards the mirror. His eyes instantly zoomed in on the growing wet patch on the front of your cotton panties, and he couldn’t help but smirk. He saw and felt your body squirming similarly like how you were on his lap. He’s had a rock-hard cock since this conversation started, so he’s not surprised if you can feel his hard-on poking your back through his shorts.

His hands rested on your knees as you watched him in the mirror. The entirety of it all was extremely erotic, like something that would be on TV.

“If you like something, tell me. If you hate something, tell me. It’s important that you do so, okay? It helps both of us learn.”

“Okay,” You were nearly shaking with anticipation. You were so nervous, but why? It’s just Harry. It’s just Harry. “I kind of like when you say I’m doing a good job. Makes me feel… nice.”

“Yeah?” Harry tried to conceal the smirk that threatened to rise on his lips. Of course his best friend, who happened to be the most innocent person in the world, had a praise kink. It just made too much sense. “Like when I call you a good girl?”

You sighed and nodded, but Harry didn’t say anything this time. He just kept going.

One of his hands rested on your knee, tracing delicate circles. He stayed in the same spot, for god knows how long, and you wondered when he would do something. He seemed to be in a trance. He was hyper-focusing on every centimeter with those circles, and although you were getting impatient, you felt cared for.

One of his hands snakes to your chest and rubs your nipple through your bra. Just when you were about to protest, his fingers moved a tad lower. The roughness of his pads tickled your skin just right and caused your thighs to squirm. It was entertaining for Harry to watch you get all squirrely from such a simple touch.

He’s going to have fun with you.

“It… tickles,” You observe as your eyes look down at his fingers, very gradually moving closer to that ache in between your legs. You felt like a kid exploring a new world for the first time; naive and curious.

“What does?”

“Your fingers,” You stare at him in the mirror almost as if he’s stupid. What else would tickle?

“Does this tickle?” Harry’s knuckle brushes the inside of your thighs, lower than he’s been. You inhale at the subtle sensitivity.

“Not much,” You answer, and his knuckle continues to sway leisurely. Your breath picks up, rising faster at his hand’s proximity.

“What about this?” His index finger traces the hem of your panties with purpose. You gasp when he gets deep in between your legs, outlining your cunt with ease. Your legs attempt to shut with a shake, shying away from the vulnerability, but it’s impossible with his strong legs prying you open.

“A-a little.”

“And this?”

As if his touch could be anymore teasing, he finally dances along your clothed cunt, tracing your lips with curiosity of how you’d react. A mix of a sigh and a moan wavers out of you unintentionally, hips pushing closer towards his finger. Your mind blanks, light and fuzzy. Your face immediately falls to gaze at his movements, attracted to the air-headed feeling.

“Eyes on the mirror,” Harry demands while delicately caressing you. It was ironic, really. His voice was so rough and stoic while his touch was ever so gentle. With a few blinks, you're focusing in on the mirror, obeying his command. “How does this feel? Does it tickle?”

“Good, and yes,” You swallow your moan as his finger keeps petting you lightly. You were almost getting used to it, but you wanted more. “Is this what I was supposed to do?”

“Sort of. This is called foreplay. Heard of tha’?”

“I think so?” You were breathless.

“S’basically where I get you all wet and ready f’me. You like that?”

“L-love and hate relationship right now,” You pant as his finger rises away from your weeping, covered hole and travels up to your clit. You choke out a gasp as he strokes it nonchalantly.

“Oh,” Your hand drops to his thigh, gripping it strongly as your body begins to tingle. You strain your neck to keep your eyes on the mirror ahead of you, trying to watch how he does it.

His familiar smirk never fades from his face, cheeks a tad rosy from the heat waving between you two. His wrist is probably sore from the tedious, repeated movements he does. His thick fingers delicately circle your covered clit, applying generous pressure until you’re panting.

“More. I think I need more,” You suggest when his pace stays a consistent speed. You needed to feel his fingers on your bare skin. If he was going to touch you, you wanted him to just do it already.

“Y’think?” Harry’s tone was taunting yet serious. He wanted you to be firm with what you wanted. He didn’t want you to second-guess your own pleasure. If you needed more, you needed to tell him that. The best way for that to happen was for him to train you. “Beg for it.”

As your head becomes floaty with the stimulation, you don’t even hesitate to throw out pleads.

“Please, Harry. I-I need it, need more,” Your head slowly falls back onto his shoulder before his touch is gone. “Wha—”

Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to see you. All of you. He needed to see what he did to you, and if you were really as desperate as you seemed. As shocking as this all may be to you, it was just as shocking to Harry. He couldn’t believe he was this turned on from his best friend’s inexperience. He’s always liked when a girl knew what she was doing and knew how to reciprocate. But something about Harry teaching you and showing you the ropes just fills him with a kind of power and pride that he can’t get from anywhere else. And he’s feasting off of it.

“M’gonna take these off, alright?”

“Everything? O-okay,” He unclipped your bra as you slowly slid down your panties. The tile beneath you was colder than before, but Harry’s warm body behind you kept you comforted.

“Have you heard of the traffic light system?” he asks, hands resting gently on your bare shoulders. He gets straight into the safety part first. It also distracts him from ogling your naked figure against him. He could feel his cock twitch in his briefs at your fluttering pussy and peaked nipples.

“I assume you don’t mean the ones used for driving?” You both chuckle and break some of the swollen tension in the room. It was a nice little reminder that it’s just Harry.

“No, Doll. The one for safety and consent,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, no, I’ve never heard of it.”

“If you say red, I’ll stop instantly and ask what made y’red. Communication is key. If y’say yellow, I’ll slow down and ask you again. And then we can either continue or stop, whatever y’want. But if your color is green, I’ll keep going. Understand, love?”

There was a lot of information, but you were able to keep up. It was actually similar to the traffic light system, which makes the name very fitting. You reply with a firm yes to note that you understand.

All while he was talking and explaining everything, you were getting used to looking at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t always confident in your body, but staring at it in between Harry’s made you feel safe and sexy somehow.

Before your mind can wander too far, Harry’s hands are falling down until they’re at your nipples. His rough fingers lightly pinch the already-hard buds until you’re pushing up into his touch. The warmth and the nakedness made you overly flushed all over. He gropes your breasts with care, slyly sliding another hand down lower.

Throughout this entire process, you’ve been soaking; in your underwear, in your shorts, and now on his bathroom tile. Your lower body has been throbbing in desire to be aided, and Harry seems to know just what you need.

His fingers hover right above your mound that’s screaming for him to go lower. Your heart rams against your chest in anticipation of his bare hands on your bare body, on your most sacred and vulnerable parts. No one has ever touched you beside yourself. A small part inside of you was glad that the first person was Harry because you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

Right?

“Stop thinking s’much,” he says, rubbing a warm palm over your belly. His face moves your head, so his lips can kiss your temple reassuringly. You slightly arch your back, so maybe he could see how desperate you are. Your legs were still spread by his, so you know he can see your wetness. If you can see it, so can he. “Just let me show you how it’s done.”

“Okay, Mr. Cocky,” You roll your eyes as he shifts your hair behind your ear, “What if I don’t even like it?”

“The name is very fitting. But that’s for a different day,” he says with a cocky smirk on his face. Now that sounds like something Harry would say. But your entire face gets warm and your head gets a little fuzzy when you actually imagine it. “and you will. Trust me.”

You take a deep breath. You weren’t sure how far you guys were going to go, but you’ve never felt more ready and more safe. With the system Harry told you about and all his reassurance, it was clear that even if he was teaching you, you were the one that had all the control.

“Now watch me.”

With those words his hand turns into just one finger and resumes on your clit. You gasp into the air as your body jolts. The roughness of his thumb paints your arousal over and over on your skin.

“This little thing is important. Don’t neglect it.”

His rhythm is slow and tedious as he circles the nub. You see and feel him dip down to collect some more of your wetness as he continues stroking you.

“How’s this? Color?” he gruffs in your ear while staring at you darkly in the mirror. You could barely understand him because you were panting embarrassingly and trying your hardest to focus on the reflecting glass in front of you.

“Good! Wait—green,” You corrected yourself as a moan elicited from you, his touch feeling even better each second.

“Good girl.”

“Fuck,” You feel yourself clench around nothing but your own wetness at his words. You both watch as the liquid quenches out of your dripping hole, making Harry groan from behind you.

“Do y’think you can handle one finger? Hm?” his voice rolls perfectly into your ear as he twists your peaked nipple. You couldn’t control your moans at the pleasure. His voice sounded just as good as the feeling of his hands.

“Yes, yes. Harry, please,” You nearly cried from how bad you needed it. You didn’t even know you needed it this bad. You thought you were going to hate this feeling, but you’re far from it.

“So submissive, so responsive,” Harry’s middle finger pushes against your hole, teasing the opening. You hold your breath as he makes you wait. “Breathe, Doll. Relax.”

Your eyes close for a moment. You breathe deep and feel your limbs lose their sudden tenseness. Before you can open them again, Harry’s finger is slotting inside of you easily. A gasp falls from your mouth as your hand grips on his meaty thigh for support.

“O-oh.” The feeling was insane. Intense. Nearly overwhelming. You clenched around his digit, consuming and caging it like it would fade away.

You’re so tight around him, he swears his finger might fall off. Harry’s cock is pulsing and pleading behind your back, but you don’t seem to notice. He’s making sure he doesn’t rut into you, but it’s so difficult when you’re all spread out and submissive for him.

He’s never thought of you like this, but fuck, now he can’t think of you any other way.

“Color, Doll?” Harry grumbles in your ear, voice low and breathy as it fans over your skin warmly.

“Green. What’s more than green? B-blue? Just–don’t stop–God,” Your squeaky voice rambled as his finger pumped in and out slowly. You can hear his smile behind your screwed eyes. The pad of his thumb rubbed delicate circles over your throbbing clit to escalate the pleasure.

Your chest was beating fast when your legs started to shake. Your hips bucked closer to his hands, needing more as you chase the glorious feeling.

“Look at you, takin’ me so well,” Harry praises, subtly curling his finger as your back arches. You know that one finger isn’t a lot, barely anything, but you were melting at the praise that Harry gave you. His constant encouragement is what made you putty in his hands. Literally.

“Harry,” You moaned into the heated air, causing Harry to groan desperately behind you. And you’re not too stupid to deflect that Harry might be turned on from the scene unfolding. If you knew more, if you knew better, you would have offered to help him after. But you were inexperienced, and you assumed he wouldn’t want someone to give him head who could possibly bite his dick off.

“Are you close, baby? Hm? Gonna come for the first time on my hand?”

“Y-yes! Please,” You begged as you climbed your high, wondering what the top would feel like if the chase was this blissful.

Your head falls restlessly on his shoulder while his right hand keeps focusing on your cunt. It was covered in your arousal as his pace picked up. The stimulation was almost too much, your body wanted to push away. But your mind was pleading to feel a release you know your body needed.

“Is it gonna h-hurt?” You groaned as your cunt clenched around him again, stomach tensing. A strong rush you assumed could only be an orgasm was approaching you all too fast.

“No, Doll. It’s gonna feel real good,” He twisted your nipple again, pushing you over the edge. You felt his thumb and index pinch your clit, causing you to scream his name against his chest. “Look in the mirror. Watch yourself fall apart f’me. Watch and make sure this time is memorable.”

You always thought Harry had a way with words. You never thought that about dirty talking though. His hands were as skillful as can be, and maybe one day you’ll be able to make yourself feel as good as he made you feel. But his words are something that you’ll never be able to treat yourself with. You don’t think you’ll ever meet another person whose voice is as fitting as Harry’s.

With his demanding tone, you came right over the edge. An overwhelming ripple of pleasure ceased through your body, shaking your legs to the max. Soundless moans and clawing nails were all you were capable of as you came on his large hand. Although you were straining, you never took your eyes off of the mirror. He told you to look at yourself as you came, but you were only staring at the glaring green eyes reflecting back at you. He rubbed all of your orgasm until you were trembling from overstimulation.

Just when you thought he was done, he raised his ringed hand to his mouth and tasted you. You thought that was something that they only did porn or movies. You swallowed intensely as his hum vibrated through you.

“Do you always… taste it?”

“If I think it’ll taste good,” he smirked as you scooted forward to grab your shirt. As you throw it over your head, you just had to ask.

“Did mine taste any good?” You slightly cringed as you asked the question. Does cum usually taste good? What does it even taste like?

His smirk widens, a hint of evilness rising, “do you want to find out?”

Your skin flushes even against the chilling tile. Your heart skips a beat at trying yourself. You hadn’t ever thought of it before. But you’ve come (literally) this far tonight, so why not just take it a little further?

“O-okay,” You slowly lift up your shirt, revealing your fucked-out cunt to him again. “So I just…?”

“May I?” he suggests.

“Yes.”

Two of Harry’s fingers swipe over your cunt, which was still covered in a mix of your arousal and cum. You jolted from the stimulation, tensing quickly before his touch was gone.

“Open,” and without thinking, you do. Your mouth falls open as his fingers lay flat on your tongue. Salty and creamy, it spreads over your tastebuds. You hummed around his fingers just like he did because it tasted good. Yeah, it was a bit odd, but once you got past that, you realized how erotic and sexy it was. “How’s it taste?”

After a bit of suckling on his digits, he puts them out way too soon for your liking. “Good, actually.” You creak from your dry throat.

“I think so too. Let’s clean you up real quick.”

Still sitting on the floor, a warm, wet towel soothes your sensitiveness as he wipes away all of your liquids. A smile broke out on his face when he finished before his hand landed on top of your head. He shook your hair like crazy until it was already wilder than it was. The action was childlike and friendly, almost as if everything between you guys never happened and you were back to square one. It was better that way, though. Right? To just go back to how everything used to be?

Harry grabs the small hand towel and exits his bathroom. You assume he went to discard it and add it to his laundry, but you just sat there in oblivion. You already missed his touch, longing for something you should’ve never even had in the first place. He was the one that offered himself to teach you, but now you’ve been taught, so where do you guys go now? Are you really supposed to just go back to the way it was?

He saw you in ways that no one else has before. You always thought that you would be intimate and have your groups of firsts with someone that you were dating, someone that you loved. Because of this, you realized that Harry was the safe option. Doing this with Harry changed your views on everything, and your body, heart, and mind couldn’t keep up with the rapid reversal.

You knew that Harry had a few notches in his belt. But were they all from relationships or just one-night stands? You didn’t know because you two rarely ever discussed the topic. Was it easy for Harry to go from girl to girl? Or did he get attached like you?

If there was one thing you always feared from sex and sexual doings, it was the intense attachment. You had heard about the infamous addiction intimacy laces within your veins that makes you crave a person. Now that you’ve been with Harry, that won’t happen to you, right?

You’ve known Harry forever, yet you’ve never craved him. He’s your best friend, and you’ve never seen him as more than that. If it was anyone else, you’d probably lose all control because you have no significant relationship with them. It would be easy to latch onto anybody because it would be easy to lose them too. Harry, on the other hand, was not easy to lose.

The last thing you want is to convince yourself of anything. You don’t want to “crave” Harry just because you saw something about an article online about “sexual chemicals fusing.” You couldn’t. No, it was too risky.

You’ve known Harry forever, so you couldn’t lose him forever too.

“I think I found a good movie to watch!” Harry’s voice echoes from his living room and all the way into the bathroom where you haven’t moved a muscle. Your overthinking was louder than it’s ever been. With a shaky breath, you rise from the tiles and stare at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. The same mirror you watched Harry finger fuck you with.

“Be out there in a second!” You shout back as your heart beats rapidly from his heartwarming voice laughing loudly at something. You clutched your chest, wondering why the fuck you were feeling the organ lurch for him in a way that wasn’t meant for him.

You knew that it was way too fucking personal.

—

thanks for reading angels 😙 part 2

taglist: @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @raajali3

[eldritch-thrumming]

is it casual now?, pt. two

pt. one

my friends call me a loser ‘cause i’m still hanging around. i’ve heard so many rumors that i’m just a girl that you bang on your couch. i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn’t lose. you said, “we’re not together,” so now when we kiss i have anger issues. you said, “baby, no attachments,” but we’re knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?

around one in the morning, steve can’t take the tossing and turning anymore. he calls robin and she just says she’s coming over. she rides her bike all the way to steve’s house in the dark even though he tells her over and over not to do that. she just does.

he both loves and hates that she does.

steve’s on the couch in the living room again, moved back downstairs when he realized sleep wasn’t coming tonight. he’s sitting right where eddie had looked at him and rejected him. right where eddie had decided steve wasn’t worth the trouble. even in the privacy of his own mind, steve knows he’s not being exactly fair, but he can’t stop his thoughts from circling over what happened, over and over and over again, until the night is all smooth around the edges, all the good stuff rubbed away.

so that’s where robin finds him, wrapped in the navy comforter he’d dragged from his bed with the television glowing on mute. the house is dark and she just lets herself in like she always does.

“i take it the talk didn’t go so well,” her voice is light and steve can tell she’s trying not to add any inflection to the statement, trying hard so it doesn’t sound like a question.

“i don’t know, doesn’t every great love story start with someone storming out after the confession?” steve tries to make it a joke, to make it sound flippant, but his voice comes out flat. robin’s mouth quirks up a little any way and he knows it’s something like a pity laugh, but it does soothe the stabbing pain in his chest just a little.

“you wanna talk about it or you wanna let me take you to bed and big spoon the shit out of you?” robin reaches out to run her hand lightly through his hair, just once, before she lets it fall back into her lap. she’s wearing her pajamas, the wide leg of her flannel pants stuffed into her bright yellow rainboots, like she’d left the house in a hurry, couldn’t bother to change or find proper footwear.

steve sighs. “not a whole lot to talk about. i told him it would be kinda cool to maybe… date but he said he already told me he doesn’t really do that. and he’s right. i was just being dumb, i guess.”

“is that how you said it?” there’s a crease between her eyebrows now and she’s got that expression on her face that she always gets when she’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“i mean, not, like, word for word or whatever, but yeah, that’s the general gist of how it went.”

her expression shutters and her jaw sets. “right, well. he doesn’t have to be a super mega asshole about it.”

“he wasn’t,” steve tells her, earnestly. robin is eddie’s friend too and he doesn’t want this whole dumb thing ruining that too. they could all use all the friends they could get at this point, especially ones who get it, whatever it happens to be. “i promise. it was just… my mistake. he did tell me, from the beginning. i just misunderstood.”

robin’s face softens slightly. she reaches her hand out to lock her fingers with his and they sit there in the glow from the tv for a long moment, silent. “let’s go to sleep,” she yawns finally, standing from the couch. “everything will be better in the morning.”

~*~

robin is half wrong, but she’s also half right. things are better in the morning. steve doesn’t feel like his chest is going to cave in at every small wrong move and he doesn’t feel like crying every five seconds after his extensive cry sesh in the shower.

but eddie still isn’t there.

~*~

it’s been weeks since steve has seen eddie. steve’s not stupid. he’s aware that eddie’s actively avoiding him, despite the fact that steve has called the trailer multiple times trying to apologize. he’d left a confusingly vague message with wayne, one he’s sure had made no sense if it was even relayed to eddie at all. picking the kids up from hellfire at the wheelers is a newly torturous experience with the kids now waiting for him on the curb awkwardly instead of making steve wait an extra fifteen to twenty minutes on the wheeler’s gross plaid couch in their basement that perpetually smells like corn chips. everyone seems to be clearly aware that something is up. he’s sure he sees sympathy in mrs. wheeler’s eyes when she waves to him from their front door, thanking him for driving the kids home.

steve’s not exactly sure where it all went wrong. he knows now that he’d blindsided eddie; it was more than apparent now that eddie hadn’t even thought about what he was doing or how steve was feeling. steve spent hours thinking about eddie every day and it was clear now that that was not reciprocated. which is fine, he guesses, but he had thought he and eddie were friends first. they’d saved the world together after all. that tended to bond people forever, he’d assumed, just simply based on his relationships with robin and dustin and even nancy. he hadn’t really accounted for losing eddie completely. but steve was clearly fucking clueless when it came to eddie munson, so maybe he’d actually been wrong about everything all along.

he ping pongs back and forth between feelings of self-pity mixed with self flagellation and feelings of intense, white-hot anger at eddie. one minute, he’s sure this is all his fault, that he really is the dumbest person on planet earth and he definitely deserves to have people leave him constantly when he’s so fucking stupid all the time, can’t even keep his stupid fucking mouth shut and his stupid ugly feelings to himself for one time in his stupid fucking life. the next, he starts to blame eddie for what happened instead, blames him for not understanding steve at all. it’s eddie’s fault for not seeing what was right in front of his stupid fucking face. but after a couple of minutes of that, he’s back to being certain it really was his fault after all.

so after almost a month of no returned phone calls, no surprise visits at work just to say “hey” because eddie couldn’t sit around all day waiting for steve to get off his shift, no casual touches as they chat while eddie packs up his dnd gear, steve finally takes the massive fucking hint for what it is and stops calling. he begs jonathan to pick the kids up from hellfire, lying about a new shift schedule at work. he refuses to drive the kids anywhere that eddie might potentially be, even when the kids insist eddie really won’t be there. he’s trying so hard to convince himself that actually he’s the one avoiding eddie and not the other way around. he’s barely even hanging out with robin anymore, besides work. she seems to get that he needs time alone right now though. steve’s never been more grateful for a platonic soul mate.

but after this long, agonizing month of constantly rearranging his own life to help someone else avoid him, steve’s exhausted. he’s been having more nightmares than usual, ones where the people he loves all take turns dying in his arms. it’s a wednesday when he finally has the night off and he decides to treat himself with sixteen candles and a pizza. he orders his pie and fifteen minutes later he’s pulling his wallet from his pocket before answering the knock on the door.

“what do i owe you?” he asks after the door swings open. he’s got his eyes on his wallet in his hands, fingers moving over the bills folded together.

“oh, um,” a familiar voice stutters. steve’s eyes snap up. “i—“

steve feels like he can’t get any air for a minute. eddie’s just standing on his front step, staring.

steve’s throat feels dry. he has to swallow a few times before he can get any words out, but eddie beats him to it anyway.

“can we, uh. talk?” eddie looks nervous, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. steve steps out of the way, silently letting eddie pass him on his way into the house. the door swings shut and it’s the loudest sound steve’s ever heard in his life.

they stand in the small foyer with its huge ceilings and steve can feel the cold of the tiles through his thin socks. eddie makes no move to enter further into the house, so neither does he. steve shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence of his own home.

“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, after a long stretch of silence that makes it clear eddie’s not actually about to speak. eddie’s eyes keep flitting around the small space, landing everywhere but steve’s face. eddie shrugs, looking over steve’s shoulder into the kitchen behind him.

“it’s not—“ eddie shakes his head, cutting himself off. steve wants desperately to hear how he’d finish that sentence. almost as desperately as he doesn’t.

“i ruined it.” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i tried calling the trailer… to apologize. left a couple messages with wayne but.” he shrugs.

eddie grunts. steve wishes he knew how to make this better. he can’t tell if the grunt means eddie got his messages or not. he’d thought he was good at deciphering eddie’s noises by now.

“look,” steve says, finally frustrated with the whole thing. “we were kind of friends before we started… hooking up or whatever. i get that you wanted something casual and that i ruined it. i get that i fucked it up and i made you uncomfortable and—i just get it, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong. you were always honest. i was just seeing what i wanted to see and i let myself believe something that wasn’t real. so. i would really like for us to be friends again. i hate this, eddie. it really sucks. i don’t like not seeing you around. i just—this sucks.”

eddie nods, swallowing thickly, but he doesn’t really seem like he’s hearing steve.

“yeah,” eddie finally agrees. “this sucks.”

steve gets the sense that eddie means more than just this whole dumb thing between them, but he’s trying not to be in the business of making assumptions about what eddie means anymore.

“i have a pizza coming,” steve sighs. “if you want to stay?” he can’t help but feel hopeful and he knows this is too much, to invite eddie to stay when they haven’t even really made up yet, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. he’s never been good at this.

eddie glances into the living room and steve’s not entirely sure what he sees or what he imagines, but he watches as eddie swallows again, eyes darting quickly to steve’s face, just once, before he gives his head a small shake. “no, i don’t—i should go. but we’ll see each other, okay, harrington?” and he says it like a question but steve thinks he knows it’s not really a question at all. steve will see eddie any time, anywhere, whenever eddie asks.

steve tries to smile before shuffling toward the door and watching eddie go.

~*~

it’s another ten minutes before his pizza even gets there and when it does, steve’s feeling even more sorry for himself than he has in the last month since he’d asked eddie out. he makes it halfway through the movie and the pizza before he starts to consider calling robin. it’s been a while since they’ve just hung out and that’s been entirely steve’s fault. she hasn’t said anything because she knows steve inside and out, but steve is really missing her right now.

he’s just about ready to pull on his shoes and pick up the phone to tell robin he’s on his way to get her when there’s a knock at the door. half of him is confused, the other half is convinced it must be robin, having sensed his desire for her company. he stands and makes his way to the door, a half smile on his face as he swings it open for the third time tonight.

“look, what happened before is not why i came here, so wait and just let me talk and then you can say whatever you want but if you don’t let me just get this out, i’m never going to say it and i… you deserve to hear it so i need to say it, for real, right now,” eddie’s practically panting as he pushes past steve.

“um okay,” steve tries to get out but eddie glares at him.

“shut up, shut up for real, okay.” eddie crouches down in the foyer of steve’s house, his head in his hands between his knees. his voice comes out a little muffled, but steve can still hear him pretty clearly. “you didn’t ruin anything. you didn’t. really. i ruined it. i ruined a really good thing.”

steve feels like his chest is being hollowed out but he bites his lip, desperate not to interrupt.

eddie groans and steve can see his fingers tense and release in his own hair. “you were so sweet, on the couch. the last time.” he says it like steve could’ve forgotten and steve feels a blush rise on his cheeks. “you… you looked so soft and gooey and hopeful and i—i fucked it up. because back when this whole thing started, it seemed like a miracle that you’d even look at me. like. you’re… you and i’m just me. what the fuck.” eddie laughs almost hysterically. steve feels his fingernails cutting into his own palms with how hard he’s trying to stay still and silent. eddie still hasn’t looked up from where he’s holding himself tight. “and it kept happening and happening and happening and i—i’ve never… i’ve never.”

“oh,” steve can’t help but breathe out in surprise.

eddie shakes his head a little, seems to forget himself and look up and then he’s just staring at steve’s face. he swallows again and steve can see his hands shake. “no, i mean, i’ve… but never… more than once. never all the time.” now that eddie’s looked steve in the eyes, he can’t seem to look away. his eyes look so huge and glassy from where he looks up at steve from his place on the floor. steve feels his heart clench. his fingertips ache. “never like that.” steve nods. “and then you didn’t leave. you didn’t run or pretend it didn’t happen. and you let me pretend it was something it wasn’t, like we weren’t… like it wasn’t… important.” steve’s brows furrow in confusion. “because i was lying. obviously. of course i was. it wasn’t casual. you’d never be casual. not for me.”

“i don’t—“ steve suddenly can’t breathe.

“wait. please.” eddie’s eyes go soft around the edges. “i fucked it up, stevie, because i was lying the whole time. and i thought you were just letting me lie because… i don’t know. i don’t know why, because i know it wasn’t casual for you either. it was all over you. and that was really, really scary.” steve falls to his knees on the foyer tiles, vaguely aware of the dull ache, before sliding closer to where eddie is crouched. he whimpers, just a little, when eddie holds out his palm, presses it to the center of steve’s chest to keep him from getting too close. “hold on, baby, i just. i have to say it, please. gimme a second, i’m just…” eddie gives his head another small shake, as if he’s trying to clear it. “i’m sorry, i guess, is what it really all comes down to. i’m sorry i let you think you weren’t important. i only realized you didn’t know that night on the couch and i… i guess i saw some plausible deniability. a way to walk away without getting, like, totally annihilated. and that’s, you know. my whole issue.” eddie swallows again, hand fisting into the fabric of steve’s shirt. “i was scared. i ran. because… because i love you, stevie. i was falling in love with you this whole time and trying to act like i wasn’t. because i was an idiot. and i couldn’t be the one to break first. but what a stupid, fucked up way to think about it, huh? i love you, man, and you deserve to hear it and feel it and have it, is really what i’m trying to say. i just love you.”

somewhere in all of that, eddie had used his grip on steve’s shirt to pull him in closer so their noses are practically touching. steve can feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes, can feel eddie’s breath on his lips.

“you love me?” even steve can hear how incredulous his own voice sounds.

eddie huffs out a laugh and steve can feel it on his skin. “yeah, dude. of course i do. how could i not?”

“dude,” steve repeats, cause like… really?

“is that all you have to say?” eddie slides his nose along steve’s, nuzzling, skin warm. steve’s eyelids go heavy.

“you left me hanging for, like, a month, bro,” steve tries to joke, but his voice sounds too breathless.

“yeah,” eddie murmurs. “i’m so sorry, baby. can i kiss you?”

and all steve can do is nod.

~*~

the next morning, steve wakes up to soft sunlight filtering in through the blinds he forgot to close last night. he feels hazy, all syrupy and warm, before he bolts upright in his bed. or tries to. because just as he’s moving, he notices the heavy presence on his right arm.

“too early,” eddie groans, shuffling naked under the covers. “turn it off.”

“turn what off? the sun?” steve smiles as he turns to spoon his equally naked body behind eddie. he drops a kiss to eddie’s bare shoulder.

“mmhmm,” eddie hums, and steve can hear the smile in it.

“hey,” steve says, before they both fall back into sleep for a few more minutes. “i love you, too, by the way.”

“oh yeah, by the way?” eddie snorts.

“better than ‘i love you, dude.’”

“oh, you think so?” eddie shifts in steve’s arms until he’s somehow gotten on top of steve, holding steve’s wrists above his head. steve can’t help but thrust his hips upwards in eddie’s direction. “yeah, okay,” eddie concedes, breathless, grinding his own hips downward. “you’re right. whatever you say, beautiful. can’t argue with that. super compelling argument.”

steve has to kiss him just to shut him up.

[natluvsleclerc]

pookie pie i need a lando fic where lando and reader are bffs, literally since day one, and oscar notices lando suddenly acting different BC HE'S FALLING FOR READER but obviously lando won't admit it yet, and oscar could accidentally spill to reader why lando's acting so weird

oblivious — l.n

pairing: lando norris x fem!bestfriend!reader

summary: lando is oblivious to the fact that he’s in love with his best friend, so oscar takes matters into his own hands.

warnings: pov changes, kissing, and that’s it

a/n: bestie requested, i shall deliver.

—

me and lando have been attached to the hip since birth basically. we’ve managed to keep close in contact through the entirety of high school and even now with him being an f1 driver.

lando invites me to his races all the time and of course, i’m always there. i’m there so often basically everyone in the mclaren garage is fond of me.

as of now though, it’s the week before the silver stone race and lando demanded that we hangout all week to distract him from the nerves since it is somewhat of a home race to him.

“y/n, can you come here for a sec?” lando calls for me and i oblige, standing up from his couch to walk to his room.

“you called?” i say, stepping foot into his room. “i don’t know what hat to wear, i have too many. what color goes best with my outfit?” he asks. looking him over, he’s of course covered in almost all black so i pick up the white mclaren hat and place it on his head.

“this one. easier said than done. don’t overthink it.” i pat his head and giggle. he rolls his eyes at me, “yeah yeah, ready to go?” he asks and i nod my head as we head out of his house to go meet up with oscar and his girlfriend.

once we meet up with oscar and lily at the mclaren event, i started to feel a bit out of place since there was so many people here i didn’t know. of course there was the mechanics and others from the garage but it was triple that at this event.

“y/n, you okay?” lando asks me as we make our way to sit down at a table. “yeah, i just, there’s a lot of people here.” i laugh nervously and he he grabs my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“i know there is, love. it’s just a charity event, nothing to stress about. i wanted to invite you along next to me, didn’t wanna third wheel all night with them two.” lando says and points next to him where oscar and lily are sitting.

“hey! we don’t make you third wheel, you just wanted her to come along so you’re using us as an excuse.” oscar says and i squeeze lando’s hand, laughing, “you’ve been caught.”

lando huffs and rolls his eyes at us, “whatever helps you guys sleep at night.” he grumbles and me and oscar laugh together.

as the night goes on, lando helped calm my nerves and would sneak touches and glances at me all night.

“im sorry for making you come, i know its boring but its something i have to attend.” he whispers to me as the owner of mclaren talks to the crowd.

“it’s okay, i’m here with you.” i turn to look at him and he gives me a smile. i look over at oscar and lily and oscar is staring at us with a smirk on his face.

—

“mate, you can’t keep hiding it anymore.” oscar says to me and i have no clue what he’s even talking about.

“what do you mean?” i ask and he face palms. “god, you’re oblivious.” he grumbles, “i’m talking about you having feelings for y/n.”

and that’s when i feel my heart nearly stop.

“what? no i dont.” i deny but oscar refuses to believe it, “lando, you guys are attached to the hip. im not stupid, i saw the way you were looking at her tonight.” well he’s not wrong.

“i wasn’t looking at her in anyway. you’re just delusional.” i brush off his comment and walk out of my living room wanting to avoid this conversation.

“lando, im not letting you run away.” oscar says as he follows me into the kitchen, “i know you’re refusing to believe me or listen to me but i think she is the one for you, she has been the one for you. you guys grew up together, you guys always hangout, you support eachother like no other, and the way you both look at eachother says it all. for once, don’t push this away. i think y/n is what you need in life. i think she’ll be the best you’ve ever had if you let her.”

i stand there in my kitchen, hands gripping the countertop, completely dumbfounded by what oscar had said. he just stands there staring at me before saying, “let that sink in and maybe you’ll listen to me for once and it’ll open your eyes.” before walking out of my house and leaving me to drown in my thoughts alone.

—

i wake up at 8 the next morning, in lando’s spare bedroom that i’ve basically claimed as my own. last thing i remembered was oscar being over and them talking about the event. i headed to bed since it was already late when we got back.

i get out of bed and get ready for the day, when i make my way out of the room, i did not expect to find breakfast to be made.

“oh my god? you made pancakes!” i nearly yell and run over to hug a cooking lando.

“yes, i did. you’re welcome.” he laughs and squeezes me with his good arm that isn’t being occupied by flipping the batter. “you’re literally the best.” i tell him as i let go of him and take the plate that’s already made.

“yeah, i know i am.” he smirks at me but i just bust up laughing, “oh god, i boosted your ego.” i groan and pour syrup on the pancakes.

“nah, babe. the ego was already there.” i feel my cheeks heat up at the pet name, thrown off by it, but i continue to go with the flow.

“you f1 drivers are something.” i shake my head at him and begin eating the fluffy pancakes lando made for me.

after awhile, lando ends up dragging me over to oscar’s since he invited us to watch a tennis match.

now who watches tennis in their free time? i don’t question it, just enjoy the fact that i get to hangout with them.

once we get there, lando opens the car door for me and i thank him. “i saw that!” oscar shouts at us, and i giggle. “shut up!” lando shouts back as we walk up to where oscar is standing at the door.

“ready to watch some tennis?” he asks me and i just shrug, “i mean, im spending time with you guys so it evens out.” and oscar laughs.

halfway through the match, lando gets up to make food in the kitchen. “so, when are you going to stop being oblivious?” oscar looks over to tell me. i furrow my brows at his question, “oblivious over what?”

“lando. you guys are both oblivious.” he sighs and runs his hand over his face. “i’m over here playing matchmaker for the both you.” i just stare at oscar with a emotionless look on my face cause i didn’t expect this conversation to ever happen.

“last night after you went to bed, i think i finally talked some sense into lando. he likes you, y/n. it’s so obvious and it’s crazy to me that neither one of you have tried to do anything about it. i mean, the way you look at eachother speaks volumes and everything he does for you, says it all. i’m just tired of seeing you both do nothing about it so im finally taking matters into my hands to talk some sense into the both of you.” he confesses.

“i- honestly. i never expected this conversation to ever happen.” i say and he nods, “i get it but it’s happening now because im tired of you guys being clueless with how much in love you are with eachother.”

in love? with lando? me? no, that’s crazy.

unless…

it was then that everything clicked into place. the realization hit me like a thousand bricks and i all of a sudden had the urge to cry. everything lando does for me isn’t something a normal boy best friend would do. he wouldn’t call me pet names, cuddle with me, hold my hand, make me food, and invite me to every event he was to ever attend.

lando does like me.

and i like him back.

it was then that lando walked back into oscar’s living room, carrying a bowl of chips and salsa, “did i walk in at a bad time?” he asks and the tension in the room could’ve been cut with a knife.

“no, i think i finally got y/n to realize you’re in love with her.” at oscar’s ststement, lando drops the chips out of his hand, “you did what?!” he raises his voice, completely shocked.

i’m still sat on the couch zoned out, “yes, it’s about time you both opened your eyes!” oscar says to lando.

“oscar what the hell? you’ve probably made her upset.” lando says as he walks over to me and grabs my arm that’s perched on my knee, “are you okay?”

i stare up at him and ask “you do love me, don’t you?” that seems to catch him off guard because he lets go of my arm and i’m already missing the warmth of his touch. i see oscar take this as a cue to leave as he gets up and walks out the living room, leaving us alone.

“i- i love you as my best friend.” lando whispers to me but i know it’s a lie, “lando don’t lie to me.”

i feel tears brimming my waterline, why the hell am i about to cry?

“okay, fine. i do love you. i’ve been in love with you since we were kids, y/n.” he confesses and that’s when i feel the tears fall.

“hey, hey, hey. why are you crying, pretty girl?” he grabs my face and wipes the tears away, my body heating up at his touch and the pet name.

“i’m just- i’m overwhelmed. my feelings for you are overwhelming and i just never thought we would be in this situation. i’m not mad about our situation, im more than happy because i know there’s no one else out there for me. you’re the one for me, i guess oscar has just got me to open my eyes and now my feelings are everywhere.” lando smiles at me, “you’re too pretty to cry.”

i smile at him and reach up to grab his face, “i can’t believe you’ve been such a coward to confess that you’ve been in love with me since we were kids.” he laughs at me, “i’m sorry, you know i am. and i will apologize till the end of time. i just never wanted to ruin what we had even though i know it was alot like we were dating, but that’s besides the point, because now i can at least kiss you.”

“are you asking to kiss me, norris?” i tease him and he nods, “yes, because i’ve waited over a decade to do so.” i gasp and bring his face closer to mine, “well, i love them loyal.”

and suddenly lando’s lips came crashing down onto mine and it was like the world stopped moving. this felt right.

his hand reached down to my neck to pull me in closer as the other cupped my face. i smiled into the kiss, “congratulations on being my first ever real kiss.” i tell him and he laughs, “it’s an honor, good thing i’ll be your first and last.” he says as he pulls me in for another.