#share plus flutter

[fluttertutorialhub]

How to Share Files in Flutter

Flutter is a popular framework for building mobile apps. Sharing files in Flutter is a common feature many apps need. This article will guide you on how to share files using Flutter, including how to share multiple file types like images, PDFs, videos, and documents.

Why Share Files in Flutter?

Sharing files is important in many apps. It allows users to share content with others quickly. For example:

Sending photos to friends.

Sharing documents for work.

Sending videos to family.

How to Share Files in Flutter?

Flutter makes it easy to share files. i will explain a step-by-step guide below:

Step 1: Add Dependencies

First, you need to add the required dependencies to your pubspec.yaml file. The share_plus package is a popular choice for sharing files.

dependencies: flutter: sdk: flutter share_plus: ^3.0.4

Step 2: Import the Package

Next, import the share_plus package in your Dart file.

import 'package:share_plus/share_plus.dart';

Step 3: Share a Single File

To share a single file, you can use the Share.shareFiles method. Here is an example of sharing an image file:

void shareImage() { Share.shareFiles(['path/to/image.jpg'], text: 'Check out this image!'); }

Step 4: Share Multiple Files

You can also share multiple files at once. This can include images, PDFs, videos, and documents. Here is how you do it:

void shareMultipleFiles() { Share.shareFiles( [ 'path/to/image.jpg', 'path/to/document.pdf', 'path/to/video.mp4', 'path/to/another_image.png', ], text: 'Here are some files for you!' ); }

Benefits of Sharing Multiple Files in Flutter

Convenience- Users can share multiple files in one go, saving time.

Flexibility- Supports different file types like images, PDFs, videos, and documents.

User Experience- Improves the overall experience by making file sharing easy.

Sharing files in Flutter is easy with the share_plus package. Whether you need to share a single file or multiple files, Flutter provides a simple way to do it. This feature is essential for many apps, making it a valuable skill for Flutter developers. Use the steps above to add file-sharing capabilities to your app and enhance your users' experience.

[cloudwisp]

“They say a gentle touch is an alluring trap that can lead to your fall from grace. In any case, I’ll take the leap if this means we will never be separated.”

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

little comforts with the lads li’s

(a self-indulgent imagining of them with a neurodivergent MC)

✨ xavier & overstimulation

(not the sex kind, sorry. but probably that too) Xavier completely understands when you get overwhelmed by existing. he gets the same feeling sometimes. you develop a code for it eventually, a combination of eye contact and eyebrow-raising that signals to the other person that you need out, whether from a Hunter’s Association party or a grocery store with way too many people. back at home, you’ve created a haven together- eye masks and soft blankets for him, headphones and fidgets for you, whatever makes you feel peaceful and calmed. the ceiling lamp is absolutely not allowed- Xavier drapes the walls with soft spheres of light or swirls a firefly-glow of sparks along the bed in a warm canopy.

🎨 rafayel & hyperfixations/jumping hobbies

you might as well consider collecting hobbies a hobby in itself. crochet needles and yarn, jigsaw puzzles, a wood burning setup, a console and video games- whatever brings you joy, Rafayel is enthusiastically behind it. he doesn’t judge you for wanting to learn a new art style out of the blue- he’ll sign up for a pottery class with you and buy you pounds of clay. he loves your passion and enthusiasm and matches it with his own. he loves being creative with you, in whatever form it happens to take that day. plus, with the amount he spends on paint and canvas, he’s not about to judge you for getting boxes of new supplies for something. he’s hyping you up every time! even if it isn’t an interest he shares, he’s happy you’re happy.

🩺 zayne & health anxiety/ocd

no matter how many times you ask for it, Zayne is happy to give you reassurance. yes, that chicken was cooked all the way. you have a weird flutter in your chest? of course he'll listen to your heart. he listens to every symptom, every worry with unfailing patience. after all, he wants to be your protector, your safest place- this is just one way to be that for you. he never makes you feel irrational for your fears, just steadily helps you face them each and every time. he doesn't judge your compulsions, but he offers his expertise whenever you ask- he lets you take your temperature ten times a day but also explains the normal range and when to actually worry.

💭 sylus & overthinking

okay hear me out, this goes both ways: he helps ground you when you’re overthinking negatively but also supports you when you’re being enthusiastic about literally anything. he’s all in- if you have a favorite tv show he’s watching every episode and reading every analysis of it so you can discuss. he’s fully invested in your office drama, your gossip, your made-up stories about the bird family that lives outside your apartment window. but he also soothes you when you spiral into worry or fear. he happily goes through what-if scenarios with you, most of them ending in him spectacularly defeating anything that could ever threaten you. he makes it clear over and over again that you’re completely safe with him, physically and emotionally.

❤️‍🩹 caleb & insecurity

his life mission to make you feel adored. he makes a point of worshipping every part of you, especially anything you consider a "flaw". nothing is too much or too little- you're perfect exactly as you are. if he overhears you complaining about your thick thighs on a call with Tara, he's going to be buried in them later that night, pressing kisses to every inch. he loves working out and training with you. if you want to get healthier he's gladly cooking fresh ingredients into nutritious meals and helping you build up a fun fitness routine- but if there's even a hint of it being because you don't like the way you look in the mirror? he's going to benchpress twice your body weight in front of you just to prove he can. or better yet, he flings you over his shoulder easily and brings you to the bedroom to "work on your confidence".

[cherrygirlfriend]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ housewife

pairing: dad!rafe x farmer's wife!reader synopsis: rafe comes home and tries to take care of reader. warnings/tags: fluff! smut! MDNI! wc: 400 a/n; i can't stop thinking about being a housewife

farmer’s wife masterlist ♡ rafe masterlist

you could tell that your husband was home from two things; the way the sound of the door banging echoed across your shared home, and the way tiny footsteps immediately ran to the front door. it had happened so much you could play the sight inside of your head like it was a movie; the five-year-old jumping into rafe's arms so happily.

"mommy!" mabel exclaimed as rafe laughed, spinning the little girl around in his arms.

"hi, maple." he chuckled, pressing a small kiss at the crown of mabel's head, "what'd you and mama learn today?"

"mama taught me math." mable rolled her eyes, "like, duhhh, five plus three is eight. everyone knows that! i'm not a baby!"

"maybe mama didn't." rafe said with widened eyes, causing mabel to snicker as he pressed another kiss on her forehead, "how about you go color something for mommy, yeah?"

"yeah!" mabel exclaimed happily, bounding back upstairs into her room. you could hear the way rafe's joints clicked as he stood up straight, and soon enough, a strong pair of arms were wrapped around you.

"so i guess i'm now an idiot, then?" you chuckled softly, leaning into rafe's touch, ignoring the vegetables you were chopping as the man pressed kisses on the column of your throat.

"guess you are." he whispered against your throat as his hand slipped into your leggings, your breath catching in your throat and your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his hands shamelessly slip into your panties, your senses filled with him.

all you could smell was the sweat on his body from working all day, all you could see inside your head was him lifting heavy things, sweating all over himself all throughout the day; you didn't really care what he actually did, but you cared about how... primal it made you feel.

"we shouldn't be doing this..." you mumbled, yet your hips rolled along with the rolls the man kept drawing on your clit.

"i'm not doing anything." rafe grinned against your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all over you, "just greeting my wife." he grinned, his free hand grasping yours and bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss on it, "hello." he mumbled, making you chuckle.

then, mabel's voice interrupted it, calling out "daddy! i wanna show you my drawing." making rafe chuckle, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek as he withdrew his fingers from your panties, making you whine.

"duty calls. but later tonight..." he grinned, making you roll your eyes as he winked, walking away.

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

[ateezscupid]

─── FEB FILTH FEST: I Wanna Be Yours - AGE GAP ♡

SUMMARY / You started to develop a crush on your college professor, but had to distance yourself from him when it turned into more than a silly "crush."

warnings ✩ SMUT, FLUFF, DOM/SUB dynamics, ANGST in the beginning, older!san (35), younger!reader (24), age gap, cliche student x teacher trope, soft dom!san, sub!reader, unprotected sex, vanilla vanilla vanilla, public sex? (nobody sees them but they're in a library), oral (f), praise, size kink, san is basically a gentle giant

word count ✩ 3,89k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh @hwallazia

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

"Y/N? You're my highest ranking student. Do you know the answer?" San's voice cut through the dense silence of the classroom, his gaze landing on you. You felt your cheeks redden as all eyes turned to you. The intensity of his stare made your heart race, and you realized you hadn't heard the question. Panic set in, but you took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

"Um," you blink and sit up straight. "I-I wasn't--I wasn't paying attention." The words tumble out, and you can feel the heat spread from your cheeks to your neck. San's gaze lingers for a moment before he nods and moves on to the next student. You sigh with relief, dropping your eyes to your notebook.

You were only in your 20s, while San was well into his 30s so close to being considered middle aged. Even though, some people consider 35 middle aged, so it honestly didn't matter to you.

Every time you would do as little as fantasize having a life with him, you knew it would never happen. Why would he even date someone that much younger than him? And, even if by some miracle he did, you were his student. It was wrong, unprofessional, and you weren't ready for any rumors to start flying. Plus, he had his career to think about, and you had your future. You had to maintain a respectful distance.

So, one random day, you decided to distance yourself from him and you went as far as to drop out of his class. You switched your major, hoping that would help ease the ache in your heart, but it didn't. San's influence lingered everywhere, in the corridors where you heard his laugh echo, in the library where you had studied together, in the cafeteria where you had shared a table, and even in the quiet solitude of your dorm room where you had dreamed of a life beyond the confines of academia.

And here you were, eating by yourself in the empty library café, surrounded by the ghosts of your past happiness. The scent of stale coffee and dusty books filled your nose, a stark contrast to the fresh scent of San's aftershave that had once made your heart flutter. You pushed the textbook away, unable to focus on the words that blurred before your eyes.

"Y/N?" San's voice called out from behind you, and your heart skipped a beat. You hadn't seen him since the day you dropped his class, and now here he was, standing in the library café, looking more handsome than ever in his tweed jacket and glasses.

"P-Professor-?" you stutter, your voice shaking slightly. You swivel in your chair, trying to compose yourself, but your heart won't cooperate.

"I've been meaning to talk to you but it feels like you're…avoiding me?" San's brow furrowed with genuine concern. His eyes searched yours, looking for an explanation. You felt your throat tighten, unsure of what to say. The truth felt too raw, too embarrassing to admit.

"It's just…I needed to focus on my studies, Professor," you managed to say, hoping the lie wasn't too transparent. "Switching majors has been a bit overwhelming."

"Then why not stay with me?" San asked, his voice gentle but firm. "You had a knack for my class, and I was looking forward to seeing how far you'd go."

"I-It was something personal…" you murmured, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you knew you had to protect him and yourself from the mess your feelings could create. San took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

He sits across from you, his eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of confusion. "Is everything okay?" he asks, his voice laced with care. You nod, trying to keep your composure, but his closeness is too much to handle. You can feel the warmth emanating from his body, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

"I can't say, it's…" You stop mid-sentence, the words lodging in your throat. San's eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might see the truth. But instead, he offered a small, understanding smile.

"You can tell me anything." San's hand reached out and placed itself gently on top of yours, his thumb tracing comforting circles. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you had to resist the urge to pull away.

"…I-It's you." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you felt your cheeks flush even hotter.

San's hand stilled on yours, and he looked surprised, then a soft smile spread across his face. "What do you mean, 'it's me'?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"I mean… I had a crush on you," you blurted out, feeling your heart pound in your chest. The words hung in the air like a confession in a quiet church, and you waited for his reaction, bracing yourself for the worst. "Well, I thought it was a crush until it got…worse."

San's expression grew serious, his smile fading slightly. He removed his hand from yours and leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Worse?" he repeated.

"I know it's inappropriate and wrong," you rushed to explain, your voice barely a whisper. "But I couldn't help it. I had to get away, so I switched majors. I'm sorry if I disappointed you or made things awkward."

San leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background. "Y/N, it's not awkward. It's…unexpected," he said, his voice filled with a hint of something you hadn't heard before—vulnerability. "But it's not unwelcome."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and you felt your eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

San took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "I mean that I've noticed the way you look at me, the way you hang on my every word. And I've felt something too." His voice was low, almost a murmur, as if he was sharing a secret.

The confession hit you like a sledgehammer, leaving you momentarily speechless. You stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. Could it be possible that he felt the same way?

"I've noticed it too, Y/N," San continued, his voice soft and measured. "But I never acted on it because I knew it would be wrong. I've always respected my students' boundaries, and I respect you more than anyone."

"San, please." You whispered his name, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "I don't care if I'm your student."

He leaned back again, his gaze dropping to the table. "But I do." His voice was firm, yet tinged with sadness. "It's not just about us. There's the university policy, our careers, and-"

"I've literally fantasized about you." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you felt the air thicken around you. San's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression softened.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and careful. "You know I care about you. You're an incredible student, and as your teacher, it's my job to support and guide you. But these feelings… They're complicated."

"Do you or do you not like me back?" You blurted out, unable to contain your emotions any longer. The question hung in the air, a silent plea for him to confirm what you hoped was true.

San's gaze remained on you, his eyes searching yours. "I do," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper. "But we can't let it affect our professional relationship."

"Then it won't, but please. I don't care if I have to date you in private." You looked at him with hopeful eyes, desperate for some kind of connection.

San sighed heavily, his eyes never leaving yours. "You don't understand, Y/N. It's not that simple."

You sigh and nod, standing up and grabbing your bag. "I understand," you say, trying to sound firm despite the shakiness in your voice.

He reached across the table and grabbed your arm, his grip firm but gentle. "Please, sit." His eyes searched yours, and you felt the weight of his gaze. You sat back down, your heart racing.

You snatch your arm away and walk around the table so you were face-to-face with him, looking into his eyes. "You don't have to say it," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion. "Y-You want to stay professional so if all I need to do is stay away from you then I will-"

You were interrupted by San's hand, which he placed on your cheek and before you knew it, he was kissing you. It was a gentle kiss, but filled with so much passion and longing that it stole your breath away. Your eyes closed instinctively, and you melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck. The world outside the library faded into a distant memory, and for a moment, all that mattered was the feeling of his lips against yours.

He pulled away for only a moment, his eyes searching your face, looking for permission to continue. You nodded, your eyes brimming with unshed tears of joy. San leaned back in, his lips meeting yours again in a kiss that spoke of a longing that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

The kiss grew more intense, and you felt your knees tremble. It was everything you had ever dreamed of, and the reality was so much better than any fantasy. His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer, and you felt the warmth of his body against yours. The scent of his cologne, something you had secretly come to adore, filled your senses, and you knew you never wanted to be anywhere else.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling him closer, feeling his hands slide down to your waist as the kiss deepened. His fingers traced the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve. San's eyes searched yours, and you knew he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

"Sir," you murmured, your voice muffled by his shirt. "W-We're still in the library-"

"And it's empty, right? No one's around," San murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. He took another step closer, his body now pressed against yours, leaving no room for doubt or fear. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest so hard it felt like it might just burst.

He lifted you up without effort, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and carried you over to a quiet, secluded corner of the library. The soft cushions of an old armchair were a welcome relief as he set you down, his hands never leaving your body. San's gaze was filled with desire, yet tinged with caution.

He started kissing your neck, his hands moving down your body before grabbing your skirt and lifting it. You felt the cold chair against your bare skin and shivered from the excitement. You didn't know what you were doing, but you knew you wanted him.

San's hand slid up your thigh, his thumb brushing against the lace of your panties. You gasped, your eyes snapping open. The reality of the situation hit you like a cold shower. "W-What are we doing?" You whispered, your voice trembling.

He pulled back, his gaze searching yours. "I couldn't help myself. If we do this," he said, his voice hoarse with desire, "we can't take it back."

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating his words. Your mind raced with the consequences, but your body craved his touch. "I know," you murmured, nodding slightly. "But I don't want to take it back."

San studied your face, his eyes filled with a mix of want and hesitation. Finally, with a low groan, he leaned in and claimed your mouth again, his hand moving to cup your breast through your shirt. You arched into the touch, a soft moan escaping you. His fingers deftly unhooked your bra, and his hand moved to caress the soft skin, his thumb flicking over your nipple. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt a warm wetness spread between your legs.

You reached your hand as far as you could, tugging at his belt and the buttons of his pants. San's hand moved from your waist to your wrist, stopping you gently. He pulled away from the kiss, his breath ragged. "Let me."

He knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushed your skirt higher and slid your panties aside. His touch was featherlight, sending waves of pleasure through your body as he kissed and licked at your inner thighs. You whimpered, the anticipation driving you wild.

Finally, his mouth found your center, and you gasped as he took you in. San's tongue danced over your sensitive flesh, tasting and teasing you until you thought you would lose your mind. Your hands gripped the armrests of the chair, knuckles white from the effort of not pushing him away.

"O-Oh my god, San-" you breathed his name, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. You felt your core clench around nothing, and the sensation was like nothing you had ever experienced before. His movements grew more deliberate, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

His hands caressing your thighs, his eyes remained locked on yours, watching the play of emotions across your face as he worked his magic. You squirmed, unable to hold back the moans that bubbled up from deep within your chest. The warmth of his breath and the flick of his tongue against your most sensitive spot had you teetering on the edge of a cliff, desperately craving release.

"Mmmh!" you gasped as San's tongue worked its way inside of you, stroking you with the perfect amount of pressure and speed. Your legs tightened around him, and you threw your head back, unable to control the sounds escaping your mouth. The pleasure was unlike anything you had ever felt, and you knew you were close to climaxing.

"I-I'm close," you tug at his hair, making sure to avoid his glasses. "Right there, fuck!" You didn't know how to be quiet, the pleasure was too intense. San's eyes flashed with something primal and he groaned against your pussy, the vibrations making you shiver.

With a final flick of his tongue and a suck on your clit, you felt your orgasm crash over you like a wave, your body convulsing as you rode the peak. You clung to the chair, your nails digging into the fabric as the pleasure washed over you in waves. San didn't stop, instead, he kept licking and kissing until you were panting and begging for mercy.

"Please," you gasped, your voice hoarse. "I can't-"

"One more," San murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he slid a finger inside of you, curling it in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head. The sensation was exquisite, and you could feel yourself climbing again, your muscles tightening around his digit. He watched you, his eyes hooded and focused, as he brought you closer to the brink once more.

With a final, deep thrust of his finger, you came again, your body shaking and quivering as the orgasm ripped through you. San sat back on his haunches, his face flushed with arousal as he took in the sight of you, sprawled out on the chair, panting and glowing.

"W-Where'd you learn to do-" you pause, pointing below. "…That…"

San's eyes crinkled at the corners with a hint of amusement. "Sweetie, I'm ten years older than you." he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a fresh wave of heat through your core. "I've had time to learn a few things." He leaned in, kissing you gently before sitting up.

He undoes his tie with swift, practiced movements, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with need. You feel your heart race faster, his words a sweet aphrodisiac.

"Forget what I said earlier about staying professional." he almost growled, fiddling with his belt now. "I could give you everything you need."

You nodded, feeling your own need pulsing through your veins. "But we should be quick," you managed to say, though your voice was thick with lust. "Someone could come in."

"Then you're going to have to stay quiet," San warned with a smoldering look, his eyes dark with desire. He stood up, his pants now unbuttoned, revealing his erection that strained against the fabric of his boxers. You felt your mouth go dry as you stared at him, unable to believe that this was really happening.

He pushed his boxers down just enough for his cock to come out, and you felt your mouth water at the sight of him. San was well endowed, and the way his cock stood proudly before you was incredibly arousing. He stepped closer, and you reached out tentatively to touch him.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft, and he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're so big," you murmured, your voice filled with wonder. "And so…strong."

San's hand covered yours, guiding you in a gentle stroking motion. "Yeah," he said, his voice strained. "But I'll be gentle."

You nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement at his words. He stepped closer, his cock now brushing against your stomach, leaving a trail of wetness. He moves it toward your entrance, and you grip the armrests of the chair tightly, bracing yourself.

"Ready?" San asked, his voice a low growl. You nodded, unable to speak as he pushed into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You felt a slight burn, but it was overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling of fullness. He was so much larger than anyone you've been with before, and it was a bit terrifying but mostly exhilarating.

He paused, giving you a moment to adjust before pulling out slightly and pushing back in. You let out a soft whimper, and he leaned in to kiss you again, his hand moving to cup your cheek. The gentle gesture helped to ease the tension in your body, and you started to relax into the sensation.

"You feel amazing." San whispered against your lips, his eyes searching yours as he began to move his hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm. You nodded, biting your bottom lip to keep from crying out as he filled you completely. His movements grew stronger, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

The sound of the chair creaking under the weight of your passion filled the quiet library, the only other noise the muffled sounds of your breathing and the occasional soft whine that slipped from your mouth. San's grip on your hips tightened, his pace increasing as he lost himself in the moment.

"F-Fuck-" you try your best to stay quiet, but it's getting increasingly difficult as San's hips piston into you. The chair squeaks underneath you, and the thought of getting caught is almost too much to handle. You lean back, arching your back, giving him deeper access. San's eyes never leave yours, his strokes becoming more and more demanding as he chases his own release.

He leaned forward, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your nipples. The added sensation was too much, and you bit back a moan as your orgasm began to build once more. San's eyes widened at the sight of you, lost in pleasure, and he picked up the pace, his strokes becoming more urgent.

"Fuck, I love you," you murmur, the words slipping out unbidden. San's eyes flash with something akin to surprise, and then his expression softens.

"I love you too, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with emotion. His thrusts become more urgent, his eyes never leaving yours as he drives you closer to the edge. You feel your body tightening around him, and you know you're about to come again.

"I-I can't-" you whimpered, your voice strained as your second orgasm built up. "Too much-" San's eyes never left yours, his movements becoming more erratic as he felt your muscles tighten around him. You felt his cock swell inside you, and he groaned against your neck.

With one final, deep thrust, San came, his warmth filling you completely. He stilled, his breaths coming out in harsh gasps. You felt your own climax peak and crash over you, your body quivering in his arms. For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing and the beating of your hearts.

San leaned in and kissed you again, this time more tenderly. "I'm sorry," he murmured against your lips. "I didn't mean to go that far. I really just…couldn't help myself."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "It's okay," you whispered, your voice still shaky. "I didn't either."

"You're, uh, on birth control right?" San's voice was filled with concern, breaking the momentary silence.

The reality of the situation washed over you, and you nodded. "Yes, I am."

San let out a sigh of relief, his body relaxing slightly as he pulled out of you. You felt the warmth of him leave you and immediately missed the connection. He bent down and kissed you softly before helping you to stand, adjusting your clothing with gentle hands.

"You, um, really love me?" San's voice was a mix of shock and hope. He held you at arm's length, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. The question was a knife to your heart, but you couldn't lie, not now.

"Yeah," you whispered, the truth finally out in the open. "I've been trying to ignore it, but I can't anymore."

San's eyes searched yours for a moment before he sighed happily. "You're adorable." He kissed you again, a smile playing on his lips. "But we have to be careful." He pulled away, looking around the library, reminding you of the precarious situation you were in.

"Whatever, old guy." You playfully punched his arm, trying to lighten the mood. San chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

[narxcisse]

★ — Hold Me, Console Me

Pairing: Jayce Talis x GN!Reader

CW: fluff, Jayce is a golden retriever (and definitely a lapdog), takes place in s1

English isn't my native language

Jayce was a beacon of light and energy for Piltover—a symbol of innovation, hope, and determination. But even the "Golden Boy" had his moments of exhaustion.

After a particularly grueling day of council meetings, overseeing Hextech developments, and dodging endless waves of criticism, Jayce found himself craving something simple and unassuming: solace.

He trudged through the place he shared with you, his boots heavy on the floor, his shoulders slumped. The weight of Piltover’s expectations had pressed into him all day, and he couldn’t shake it off. He barely managed a grunt of greeting as he walked in, his honey-brown eyes dull and tired.

You were curled up on the couch with a book, but the moment you saw him, you closed it without hesitation.

"Jayce?" you asked gently, concern lacing your voice.

His lips quirked up in a weary smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Just tired."

You scooted over on the couch, patting your lap invitingly. "Come here."

His head tilted like a curious puppy’s, and his eyes lit up ever so slightly. "Really?"

"Really," you said with a soft chuckle.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Jayce immediately kicked off his boots and collapsed onto the couch, resting his head in your lap with an audible sigh of relief. His broad frame barely fit on the couch, but he didn’t care—he melted against you like molten gold, his arm draping across your legs possessively.

"You’re warm," he murmured, his voice muffled by your shirt.

"You’re heavy," you teased, running your fingers through his thick, caramel-colored hair.

"Not too heavy, right?" His words had a hint of playfulness, but there was an undercurrent of vulnerability in them.

"Not at all," you assured him. "You’re perfect right where you are."

Jayce hummed contentedly, his eyes fluttering closed as your fingers worked their magic. You gently massaged his scalp, trailing your fingertips down to his temples and back again. It didn’t take long for his tense shoulders to relax, the strain of the day slowly melting away.

"You know," you said after a moment, "you really do remind me of a golden retriever sometimes."

His eyes snapped open, and he looked up at you, mock-offended. "Golden retriever?!"

"Yeah," you said, laughing softly. "All big and lovable and eager to please. Plus, you’ve got that golden-boy glow about you."

Jayce groaned but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. "Great. Now I’m Piltover’s mascot and your lapdog."

"Hey, don’t knock it," you said, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "You make a very good lapdog."

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through your legs. "Guess I’ll take it, as long as I get to stay here."

"As long as you need," you promised.

Jayce stayed there for hours, nestled in your lap, letting your touch and presence restore him in ways nothing else could. For Piltover, he might always be the Golden Boy, but for you, he was simply Jayce—the man who loved you, and sometimes, the man who just needed to be held.

[w4ndal0ver]

said i'm gonna play with myself (milf!wanda x tutor!reader)

W4NDALOVER'S KINKMAS | 2024

dec 7: said i'm gonna play with myself (milf!wanda x tutor!reader)

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

KINKMAS MASTERLIST | 2024

summary: While tutoring Wanda's children, she invites you to stay for dinner, before giving you a call that you'd never forget when you get home

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, mommy kink, phone sex

said i'm gonna play with myself.

“Let’s wrap up for today, Tommy. I think you’re well on your way to acing this unit,” you say, gathering your notes.

Tommy grins, newfound enthusiasm lighting his face. “Thanks! I might actually read the rest of it now.”

As you gather your things, you take one last glance at Wanda, who is arranging the table. A flutter of excitement stirs in your chest—this tutoring session is just a step into something deeper, something you can’t wait to explore.

Just as you finish packing up, Wanda glances at the clock, then back at you, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “You know, it’s still early, and Vision won’t be home for a while. Would you like to stay for dinner? It’d be nice to have some adult conversation.”

A rush of excitement mingles with nervousness at the invitation. You glance at Tommy, who looks equally surprised.

“Yeah, stay! My mom makes the best food,” Tommy adds, his grin wide and eager, clearly hoping for an excuse to avoid any homework.

Wanda laughs, a melodic sound that fills the kitchen. “It’s true! Plus, I could use some help keeping Tommy on track. We can talk about your studies too.”

You hesitate for a moment, considering the offer. “Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?” you ask, glancing between Wanda and Tommy.

Wanda shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm. “Not at all! It’s always more fun to share a meal. And I’d love to hear more about your experiences at Yale, especially your English Literature classes.”

Your heart flutters at the thought of spending more time with Wanda, diving deeper into conversation and sharing stories. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love to stay.”

Wanda’s face lights up with happiness. “Great! Just make yourself comfortable. I’ll finish up here.” She moves back to the stove, and you take a seat at the kitchen island, feeling the warmth of her invitation settle around you

“Can I help you with anything?” You ask genuinely, wanting to show her your appreciation for letting you stay. 

“Just sit there and look pretty for me.” She smirks, looking at you over her shoulder as she starts to dish up the food that she’d made. She starts to softly hum to herself as you perch on the side. “This smells amazing,” you say, leaning closer to inhale the rich scent.

“It’s a family recipe for beef stew,” she replies, her eyes lighting up. “Tommy and Billy love it, especially on chilly days like today.”

The kitchen feels warm and inviting, and you admire how effortlessly she creates an atmosphere that feels both homey and elegant. As she plates the stew, you can’t help but appreciate the care she puts into everything she does.

“Dinner is served!” she announces, setting down two bowls, each steaming and inviting. The sight alone makes your mouth water, and you grab a warm roll from the basket nearby, slathering it with butter.

As you dig into the meal, you find yourself drawn into Wanda’s world. She shares anecdotes from her life, her voice soothing and engaging, while Tommy and Billy interject with playful commentary. The laughter that fills the kitchen feels intimate, and you notice how Wanda’s eyes sparkle when she talks about her passions.

Between bites, you steal glances at Wanda, captivated by the way she moves about the kitchen, effortlessly transitioning between tasks. Each moment with her feels charged, as if you’re discovering more than just a talented cook but a woman who radiates warmth and kindness.

As dinner winds down, Wanda leans back in her chair, satisfaction evident on her face. “I’m glad you decided to stay,” she says, and her smile feels like an invitation, a promise of more moments like this.

“Me too,” You reply, a flutter of excitement stirring within you. This cosy kitchen, filled with lingering scents of dinner and the warmth of shared laughter, felt right. 

As you sit there, enjoying the warmth of the kitchen and the fading light of the afternoon, your gaze drifts to Wanda. She moves with an effortless grace, her laughter mingling with the aroma of dinner, and you can’t help but admire the way her eyes light up when she engages in conversation. Each glance she steals in your direction feels laden with unspoken intentions, and you find yourself wondering what goes on in her mind. What motivates her to invite you into her home, to share this intimate moment with her family? There’s a softness to her demeanour, a hint of flirtation that suggests she sees more in you than just a tutor for Tommy. The warmth in her gaze ignites a mix of excitement and curiosity within you, making you contemplate the possibilities that lie ahead—possibilities that make your heart race with anticipation.

As Tommy and Billy finish their plates, they exchange playful glances before Tommy pushes his chair back. “Can I be excused? I need to go check something on my phone.”

“Me too! Can we play that new game?” Billy pipes up, bouncing in his seat.

“Alright, just keep it down,” Wanda replies with a smile, waving them off. The moment they scurry from the table, the atmosphere shifts, leaving just you and Wanda.

The air feels charged, almost electric. You lean back, savouring the lingering warmth of the meal and the soft glow of the kitchen light. Wanda glances toward the pantry and then looks back at you, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “How about a little wine to celebrate surviving our first tutoring session?”

You chuckle as she moves toward the cupboard, reaching for a bottle. She holds it up, tilting it slightly as if to gauge your reaction, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What do you think? Care to share a glass?”

“Why not?” you reply, intrigued by her casual invitation. Wanda pours two glasses, her movements fluid and graceful. As she hands you a glass, her fingers brush against yours, sending a small thrill through you.

“It’s nice to unwind after a long day, don’t you think?” she says, leaning against the counter, her gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart flutter.

“It definitely is,” you agree, raising your glass in a mock toast. “To surviving tutoring sessions and small towns.”

She laughs, her eyes lighting up, and you can’t help but admire the way she carries herself, exuding both warmth and confidence. “And to new beginnings.”

You take a sip, enjoying the rich flavours as the conversation flows effortlessly between you. “It’s weird being back in Westview. This town can feel so stifling,” you admit, twirling your fork absently. “I didn’t realise how freeing it would be to go to Yale and finally be able to express myself.”

Wanda tilts her head, her gaze locking onto yours with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “Have you found anyone in Connecticut?” she asks, her voice light but filled with genuine interest.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Oh, there were plenty of people interested, but none that I could be bothered to get to know. Friends, sure, but not a girlfriend.”

“Really?” Wanda leans in slightly, her elbows resting on the table, interest evident in her expression. “Not even a little spark with anyone?”

Her question is playful, and you feel a rush of warmth. “I guess I just didn’t find anyone worth my time.”

Wanda’s smile widens, and she tilts her head slightly, her hair falling to one side. “You’re telling me a beautiful girl like you couldn’t find someone to take a chance on?” She leans closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “That’s hard to believe.”

The playful banter makes your heart race. “Believe it or not, I’m not exactly the most sought-after prize.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she replies, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I find you quite intriguing.”

Feeling emboldened by her flirtation, you decide to take a bolder step, though you tread lightly, your curiosity tinged with an eagerness to learn more about her. “So, I’ve been curious about something,” you say, hesitating just a moment to build anticipation. 

“Hit me.” She says, her eyes twinkling as her finger traces the rim of her wine glass. 

“Your affair with Agatha, what was that like?”

Wanda’s expression shifts, the playful sparkle in her eyes momentarily flickering with surprise. “You’re quite the inquisitive one, aren’t you?” she replies, a mix of intrigue and wariness in her voice, but there’s an underlying thrill in her tone. “How did you even - no it doesn’t even matter.” She laughs, knowing immediately that Agatha wasn’t exactly one for keeping her mouth shut. 

You lean forward slightly, drawn in by her response. “I mean, it seems like it must have been complicated. You two have such a dynamic.” You let the words linger, allowing the weight of the question to settle between you.

Wanda tilts her head, contemplating her answer, her lips parting slightly as if to speak but then closing again. The silence hangs, thick with unspoken thoughts. “Complicated is one way to put it,” she finally admits, her voice softening. “It taught me a lot about myself, about what I wanted.”

“Did you ever think about what might have happened if things had gone differently?” you ask, your tone teasing but sincere, hoping to coax out more from her.

Wanda’s eyes meet yours, the intensity of her gaze making your heart race. “Sometimes,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers brushing against yours on the table. “How come you’re so interested in my love life young lady?”

“You asked about mine first.” It was your turn to wink this time and the reaction that you got from Wanda was completely worth it. Finally her cheeks blushed pink, her lips rolling against each other and her tongue poked against her cheek, something you realised was her tell. 

“You got me there sweetheart.” She hums, taking another sip of her wine, the sip turning into a glug, the wine matching the deep colour of her cheeks, highlighting the blonde highlights of her hair which she tucked behind her ear.

You watch her, captivated by the way she navigates the conversation with both grace and playful candour. Wanda’s demeanour radiates warmth, but there's an underlying intensity in her gaze that pulls you in even closer. She leans back slightly, her fingers swirling the wine glass, the deep red liquid catching the light in a way that mirrors the spark in her eyes.

“You know,” she starts, her voice light but teasing, “I didn’t expect such an insightful conversation over dinner. I usually just get ‘What’s your favourite colour?’ or ‘What’s your favourite drink?’” She laughs softly, a musical sound that echoes in the cosy kitchen, making you smile in response.

“Those questions have their charm, but I’d take a good chat about love lives any day,” you reply, letting your gaze linger on her lips as she speaks. “It’s way more interesting.”

Wanda’s smile widens, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Interesting, huh? So, you’re saying I’m interesting?” Her tone is playful, but there’s a subtle challenge behind it that makes your pulse quicken.

“Absolutely. You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met,” you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. You can’t help but feel drawn to her, a magnetic pull that’s both thrilling and intoxicating.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she responds with a smirk, leaning closer again, her elbow brushing against yours. “But seriously, I’m curious. If you had to pick, what’s your type?”

You pause, considering your answer, but the way she’s looking at you makes it difficult to think clearly. “Honestly? Someone confident, a bit witty, maybe a little mysterious.” Your eyes meet hers, and you see a flicker of intrigue dance across her features. “You know, like someone who can keep me on my toes.”

“Oh really?” Wanda arches an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curling into a sly grin. “I think I might know someone who fits that description.” Her gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes, a playful challenge lingering in the air between you.

“Do you now?” you tease, leaning closer, your heart racing as you embrace the flirtation. “Care to share?”

She chuckles softly, a soft sound that wraps around you like a warm blanket. “Maybe. But only if you promise to keep it a secret.”

“Cross my heart,” you reply, a playful seriousness in your tone, your heart thumping in anticipation.

“Alright,” she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Lets just say this person has a soft spot for pretty girls who can hold up their own in a conversation.” She bites her lip, her eyes sparkling with mischief. 

You feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks, and for a moment, you’re both lost in each other's gaze, the air thick with unspoken tension. Just then, you notice the clock on the wall and blink in surprise, realising how much time has passed. “Wow, I really should get going. I can’t believe how late it’s gotten.”

Wanda’s expression shifts slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering across her face. “Oh, do you have to?”

“Yeah, I should” you begin, but she interrupts you, standing up and moving toward her purse.

“Wait, let me grab something for you,” she says, her tone light as she rummages through her bag. You take a moment to gather your things, but the atmosphere feels charged, and you can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the end.

As you slip on your coat, she turns to you, a hundred-dollar bill in her hand. “Here, take this,” she says, extending it toward you.

You glance at the money, then back at her, unsure. “Wanda, this is way too much. I can’t just take this.”

“Just take it, please,” she insists, her tone soft but firm. “Consider it a thank you for making dinner so enjoyable.”

Her fingers brush against yours as she tries to push the bill into your palm, and you can’t help but notice the warmth of her touch, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “I really can’t”

“Just let me do this,” she interrupts, her eyes locking onto yours, an intensity behind them that leaves you breathless. “I want you to have it.”

With a sigh, you let her close your hand around the bill, the warmth of her touch lingering. “Alright, if you insist.” You grab your stuff and she follows you out towards the front door.

As you stand by the door, the weight of the moment settles around you, electrifying the air. Wanda moves closer, her gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that sends your heart racing. You feel a thrill as she reaches up, her fingers gently brushing against your cheek, and then she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The soft caress sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but lean into her touch, savouring the warmth of her hand lingering near your face.

“There,” she says, her voice low and sultry, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Much better.” The way her fingers linger near your ear feels almost intimate, and you find yourself holding your breath, caught in the moment.

Wanda’s eyes search yours, a spark of mischief dancing in their depths. “You always look beautiful,” she adds, her voice dropping just above a whisper, making your heart flutter. The compliment hangs in the air, thick with unspoken possibilities.

“Thanks,” you manage to reply, your voice softer than usual, the closeness between you two making the world outside fade away. You can feel the warmth radiating from her, a magnetism that draws you even closer. All you wanted was to tell her how beautiful you thought she was, pull yourself into a kiss as she slams you up against the door to her suburban house, but instead you can’t get the words out.

As she pulls her hand away, a slight blush creeps up her cheeks, and you notice the way her gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, an unspoken invitation that makes your pulse quicken. The chemistry between you crackles like electricity, and you can’t help but wonder what might happen next, the evening stretching before you with infinite possibilities.

“See you next Tuesday,” she says, a smile playing on her lips as she steps back, watching you with an expression that makes your heart race.

As you step outside, the cool air hits you, but the warmth of the moment lingers, not able to get it out of your head as you walk back home. Everything about her felt so wrong, but you couldn’t ignore the way her eyes gazing into yours made you feel, something so raw and exciting. She was magnetic, all you wanted to do was let your walls fall down and allow her to take you into her grasp, but you knew that you couldn’t, it was too risky. 

.-.

As soon as you reach your house, your thoughts are still tangled in the evening’s events, the warmth of her touches still ghosting over your skin. The immediate heat of the house matches the flush in your cheeks despite the chill of the cool night air. It feels unusually quiet, especially after the buzzing tension you’d just left behind. 

Kicking off your shoes, you move through the motions of getting ready for bed, but your mind keeps circling back to Wanda. The way her stare lingered on you, how she always leaned closer with each exchange, her fingers brushing yours. That last touch, the press of her hand around the money she forced into your palm, everything was making your skin burn uncontrollably. 

You slip into bed, your phone resting on the nightstand, its screen dim but somehow tempting, as if you half expect a message. You close your eyes, but Wanda’s image is imprinted there, her teasing smile, the way she tucked that loose strand of hair behind her ear, the flash of something daring in her eyes every time she glanced at you. There was no more denying it, you’re drawn to her in a way that feels inescapable. The flirting, the touches, she reads your mind without saying a word. 

Just as you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes softly, the screen lighting up with a name that makes you jump up in excitement. Wanda. 

You pick up without hesitation, “Hey Wanda,” you say, trying to keep your voice casual, as if you hadn’t been thinking about the way she’d look on top of you. 

“Hi,” She replies, her voice warm, a little lower than usual, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” You assure her, shifting slightly under the covers, your thighs squeezing together at nothing but the sound of her voice, “What’s up, it’s late?”

“I was just thinking about our conversation earlier,” She says, her tone deepening with every word she spoke, “I wanted to check in, make sure you got home safe.”

You smiled, touched by her genuine thoughtfulness, “I did, I’m just getting ready for bed.”

“Good, good.” Wanda murmurs. There’s a slight pause, and you hear her inhale deeply, “I, uh, was also thinking about what you said, about finding someone,”

You couldn’t help but feel your breath hitch in the back of your throat, the tension rising over telephone lines. “Yeah? What about it?”

Her voice drops lower, and there's a subtle shift in the air. You can hear her breathing, soft but uneven, something about it was different. “I guess it’s just, surprising, you know?” She whispers, “That someone as pretty as you hasn’t found anyone worth your time.” 

You shift the phone harder against your ear, suddenly hyper aware of the weight of her silence between every word. “Wanda?” You ask gently, her silence deafening. 

“I’m here,” She responds, but there's a catch in her voice, a breathless quality that wasn’t there before, “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about you.”

Your breath catches, her words making your stomach flip and you could almost choke against her words, “About me?”

There's a soft sound on the other end of the line, a barely audible gasp. Wanda’s breathing hitches and you feel your pulse quicken as realisation dawns down on you. Her breaths are shallow, broken by quiet, restrained moans. 

The sudden intimacy of it makes your skin tingle, Wanda was touching herself, while talking to you. The idea sends a rush of heat straight through you, your own breath panting as you process what’s happening. Your mind circling down on the thought of her blowing a blonde strand of hair out of her face as her back arched against the palm of her hand. 

“I-” You don’t even know what to say. 

“You have no idea how much you've been on my mind.” Wanda whispers, her voice thick with pleasure, each word punctuated by the sounds of her breath quickening, “God, I couldn’t stop thinking about you even after you left.”

Her words are laced with heat, and you feel the tension between you spike, your body responding to the quiet sounds of her gasps, to the way her voice curls around each breathless word.

“I can’t stop imagining” She trails off, another soft moan escaping her, and it feels like it’s all for you, every breath, every sound. “What it’d be like if you were here”

The room feels hotter suddenly, your pulse pounding in your ears. You can picture her now, in her own bed, hand sliding against her skin, her body arching with every wave of pleasure. It’s almost overwhelming, how close she feels despite the distance, how intimate this moment has become.

“Wanda” you murmur, your voice betraying your own excitement, your body reacting to the sultry edge in her voice, to the rawness of this unexpected moment.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she teases softly, her voice a delicate thread of desire. “I can tell, I can hear it in your voice.”

You can’t help the way your body responds, heat pooling low in your belly, the thrill of her words sending sparks through your veins. This connection, the electric pull between you and Wanda, feels impossible to ignore now. You could feel your arousal building between your legs, doing everything you could to not join her. 

“Tell me what you’d do,” Wanda whispers, the soft, sensual command in her voice making you shiver. You swallow hard, the intimacy of her question hanging in the air, the weight of what she’s asking leaving you breathless.

Your breath catches at her words, the weight of Wanda’s request settling over you, igniting something deep within. There’s a moment of silence, thick and heavy, as you process the intimacy of what she’s asking. You can practically hear the soft rustle of sheets on her end, her breath laboured but controlled, a steady rhythm that mirrors your own quickened heartbeat.

You close your eyes, sinking further into your bed, the thought of her, so vulnerable and uninhibited—making your skin flush. “I…I don’t know,” you murmur, feeling your own voice falter with nervous excitement. But even as you say it, your mind spins with possibility. You know exactly what you’d want to do but you’d never been with a woman before, you’d never been with anyone like that before. You knew that nobody knew that you were still a virgin, but you weren't ready to admit that. 

Wanda’s voice softens, her tone coaxing but still thick with desire. “Come on,” she whispers, and you can almost see the playful smirk on her lips, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin. “Oh I see.” She chuckles through breathy gasps. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” You gasp at her words, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Wanda, I-” You couldn’t help it, no words were coming out. The nerves of your inexperience coming through so obviously  in the waver in your voice. 

“It’s okay sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re doing do you?” Her soft moan echoes down the line, a breathless, sensual sound that sends a shiver through you, “You don’t know how to pleasure a woman like you pretend to, do you.” Wanda’s words drip with seductive authority, her voice threading through the phone like a secret. "You don’t have to pretend with me," she purrs, her breath quickening, sending shivers down your spine. "I’ll teach you. All you have to do is listen."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the sheer intimacy of her voice making your body react in ways you hadn’t expected. You shift under the covers, your skin burning with a mixture of desire and nervousness. "I’ve never—" you start, but your voice cracks, barely above a whisper. The admission hangs in the air, your vulnerability on full display.

"I know," Wanda murmurs softly, her tone teasing yet reassuring, as though she had known all along. "But I can show you, if you let me."

You can hear her breathing, now quicker, almost ragged, as if the very thought of guiding you through this is bringing her to the edge. "Do you want me to show you, darling?" she whispers, the question itself a caress. "Do you want me to tell you exactly how I’d fuck you?"

Your breath catches again, your pulse racing, the words sending heat coursing through you. “Yes,” you murmur, barely able to find your voice. "I want you to."

Wanda hums softly, pleased with your surrender, and you can hear the shift of her body, the subtle movements of fabric and skin. "Good girl," she whispers, her words laced with a satisfaction that makes your chest tighten with want. "I want you to close your eyes and imagine me there with you, my hand tracing up your thigh, slipping under your clothes, touching you exactly where you need me."

You can hear the faint sound of Wanda’s breath catching, her own pleasure mounting as she describes it to you. “Can you feel that? My fingers on you?” she asks, her voice breathy and low, pushing you to the edge of your self-control.

“Yes,” you whisper back, your voice shaky, lost in the heat of the moment.

“Tell me what you want,” she says, her voice deepening, the sensual command impossible to resist. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

You’re trembling now, caught between desire and nervous excitement, but you push past the nerves, your need for her overtaking everything else. “I want you to touch me, to fuck me,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper, the words trembling on your lips.

Wanda’s breath hitches, and you hear the unmistakable sound of her pleasure, a soft gasp escaping her as she touches herself. "Say it again," she demands, her voice thick with lust, desperate to hear your desire.

“Wanda,” you moan softly, giving in to the pull of her words, the fantasy she’s woven around you. “I need you to fuck me. I want you to touch me, make me yours.”

The sound of her gasp on the other end of the phone sends a wave of heat through you, and you can hear her losing control, her breathing turning rugged and uneven. "Mmm, you’re such a good girl," she purrs between breaths, her voice dark with desire. "You’d let me take you, wouldn’t you? Let mommy fuck you until you can’t think straight."

There it was, you let out a moan at the way she titled herself. You knew you’d been into that for years now, but never daring to tell anybody, but of course she knew, she could read you so well. You nod, even though she can’t see you, your entire body aching for her touch. “Yes, please mommy, I want it so badly.”

Wanda moans softly, her pleasure evident, and you can almost picture her, the way her body must be arching under her own touch, lost in the same heat that’s consuming you. "I’d make you beg for it, sweetheart. I’d have you trembling beneath me, begging for more."

You bite your lip, your breath catching at the raw hunger in her voice, your own need reaching a fever pitch. "I’d beg," you admit, barely able to find your voice. "I’d beg for you mommy."

Her breath comes faster now, a soft, breathless moan escaping her lips. "That’s my girl," she whispers, her voice breaking with the weight of her own pleasure. "You’d be mine. All mine.”

Wanda's moan on the other end of the line grows louder, ragged with need, as if your words pushed her even closer to the edge. You can hear the soft rustle of sheets, the unmistakable wet sounds of her fingers moving faster, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The image of her, undone and desperate for release, fills your mind, stoking the fire building within you.

“Say it again,” she demands, her voice thick with desire, trembling with the intensity of her pleasure. “Tell me what you want, tell me you’re mine.”

Your pulse races, each beat louder than the last, the heat between your legs growing unbearable. You grip the phone tighter, biting your lip, but you know she wants more than your silence. “I’m yours, Wanda,” you whisper, breathless, giving her exactly what she needs. “I’ll do anything. Just please, fuck me. Make me yours, mommy.”

The sound she makes in response is guttural, a low, throaty moan that sends shivers down your spine. “Oh, fuck.” she gasps, her control slipping further with every passing second. You can hear her fingers moving faster, the wetness of her arousal audible through the phone, and it’s intoxicating, pulling you under with her.

“Good girl,” Wanda breathes, her voice barely holding together as she edges closer to climax. “You’d be so good for me, wouldn’t you? Let me fuck you whenever I want, take you however I want.”

“Yes, yes,” you whimper, your own arousal becoming overwhelming, your body aching for her. “Please, Mommy, I’d be so good for you. I’d let you do anything to me.”

That’s all she needs.

With a sharp, shuddering breath, Wanda moans loud into the phone, the sound of her orgasm raw and uncontrolled. Her breath catches, breaking into uneven gasps, and you can hear the wet sound of her fingers as she rides out the wave of pleasure, her body clearly shaking from the force of it. Each sound she makes is laced with satisfaction, a deep, throaty hum of ecstasy as her release takes over completely.

You can barely breathe, your body reacting to the sheer intimacy of hearing her come undone, your own desire pooling low in your belly, desperate and needy. Wanda’s breathing gradually slows, her soft, contented sighs filling the air between you, and you close your eyes, imagining the flush on her cheeks, the way her body must be lying spent against the sheets.

“Such a good girl,” she whispers, her voice still heavy with satisfaction. “I can’t wait to hear you beg for real.”

“Wanda, I don’t know what to say.” You admit, your brain fuzzy and spaced out at the unexpected nature of her call. You’d only been back home for a few days and you had no idea how much of an impression you’d made on the older woman.

“You don’t have to know what to say honey, that’s my job.” She hums as you hear the click of heels against tiled flooring. You could almost choke on the sound, she wasn’t in her bedroom, she was in the kitchen, the echoing of her words now making sense as each moan had bounced around the emptiness of the room. 

“Are you in the kitchen?” you ask breathlessly, biting your lip as you imagine her there, the scene playing out in your head like a movie. You envision her bending over the kitchen island, the soft glow of the lights casting a warm hue over her skin as she calls you, wanting you to picture every moment of her tantalising routine.

“Maybe,” Wanda teases, her voice dripping with mischief. “Will I see you next Tuesday?” 

You feel a thrill rush through you at her question, the way she asks it, sending your heart racing. "You know I’ll be there," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with eagerness.

“Good,” Wanda replies, a satisfied hum escaping her lips. 

“Goodnight, Wanda,” you murmur, your heart fluttering with excitement as the call ends, leaving you with thoughts of her dancing through your mind. As soon as you heard the line end, you reached down to your underwear, the fabric completely soaked and you threw your head back in frustration. You wanted to touch yourself, but it felt wrong, you wanted to leave yourself in desperate heat, making you want Wanda even more.

[sugrclip]

haechan fucking you ( 9th member ) in the managers car before filming content ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა. yk how there’s three rows sometimes ( front, middle, and back )? he’ll let the middle row down pushing you onto your stomach. lifting up your skirt and slipping his pants half way down to his knees. forcing his dick into your tiny pussy, wrapping his hand around your throat. and don’t tell him that you cant take it because he’s mean when he’s in a rush, and he’ll force you to anyway. “stop fucking pushing me out,” he would lean his weight against your back, whispering in your ear, when your pussy would force him out from the lack of you relaxing your walls . . .

squeezing your throat as a warning, not enough to cut off your flow of air though. he would pound you from behind, covering your mouth when you would get too loud, and start to whimper complaints to him. his balls plapping against your messy clit as your cream collected along his length. “but hae, taeyong will loo-” you went to say when he finally moved his hand but was quickly cut off when he grabbed your chin forcing you to look back at him, “does it look like i care? c’mon cum for me, be a good girl.”

the whimpers he would let out when you squeezed around him; both of your moans unreasonably high in pitch. both of you sounding pathetic and needy. him chasing his orgasm while bringing you to the edge of yours. “you’re so…,” you cried out in pleasure, babbling, “mean to me.” you’re eyes fluttered back in ecstasy as he rammed into that sweet spot inside of you. “thought i was your favorite, baby?” he pushed your head down, gripping your hips— fucking like bunnies. he was absolutely shameless, meanwhile you— half of the guys thought you were this innocent girl who wore curly slicked-back pigtails and pranced around cuddling everyone. haechan though, could see behind your demeanor. let’s talk about that one time in the vacation house you fucked in the shower to avoid the cameras or how he forced himself down your throat every night when you were paired to share hotel rooms during tour . . .

plus i mean he was literally balls deep inside of your cunt. he slapped your ass harshly, the loud crack filling the car when he saw your arch faltering. “come on arch your back… stop playing,” he forced himself to not bite and nibble the side of your neck. “hnnn.. i’m sorry please… i’m coming hae!” you squealed out mid sentence, his thrusts making your voice tremble and falter, your body writhing. not even ten seconds later he came after you, whimpering and groaning about how you were milking him.

[bubblyi3]

Residuals PART 2 | JJK

"when trust is the currency, betrayal is the gamble."

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: childhood best friends, lovers to enemies to strangers, fratboy!jungkook, heartbreak, uni!au

word count: 13.4k

content warning: angst, mild smut, mild languages

summary: jungkook used to be your everything. your best friend, your first love. but you both grew up and grew apart. he’s now the campus heartbreaker, a cocky frat boy who runs with the worst crowd. when a cruel dare asks him to destroy you just for the fun of it. everything shatters. trust. hearts. and maybe the chance to ever put it back together.

author's note: the anticipation for the next part is so real 😭🔥 i’m seriously blown away by all your feedback and opinions. i read every single one and love them so much 💌🫶🏼 the taglist is still open for a little while longer, so if you want to be added, now’s your chance before i close it! 📝⏳ hope you enjoy this update, and i’m honestly so curious to hear what you think! 👀💭💗

about part 3… i’m planning to work on it a little later, but i’m not exactly sure when since i’ll be pretty busy in the next few days. and plus i want a little writing break lol. anyway, happy reading! so again please feel free to share your thoughts or what you’d like to see happen. though, i do have it mostly planned already 👀

© disclaimer: please do not copy, translate or reproduce any part of this work without my permission. thank you!

PROLOGUE || PART 1

🏷️ taglist: @whoa-jo / @username23345 / @kelsyx33 / @toosweetforyall / @junniesoleilkth / @literallyjimin / @jeeykey / @stars4kooo / @delulutofr / @smoljimjim / @elithenium / @mysoulherofriend / @ukndtwme / @somehowukook / @songbyeonkim / @miakay98 / @sundains / @bjoriis / @kooever / @dragonflygurl4 / @labbbaaa / @cherricherryy / @jeongguks-posts / @rexana19 / @ppeachyttae / @ssbb-22

The soft rustle of your dress echoed in your bedroom as you smoothed it down, your heart fluttering with nervous excitement. The mint green shimmered softly in the light, delicate beading catching the golden hour like morning dew. The dress hugged your figure gently, its cowl neckline and flowing ruffled hem giving you the look of something out of a vintage daydream.

A sheer sash tied at your shoulder swayed lightly as you moved. A soft pink shimmer clung to your eyelids, paired with champagne highlighter dusted across your cheekbones and hint of moss green in the crease of your eyes. Your lip gloss, rosy and light. You were almost ready. Your heels sat neatly by your bed, and you carefully clipped on your earrings, taking one last look at yourself in the mirror. Tonight, you didn't just feel beautiful. You felt like you belonged in a fairytale.

Your phone buzzed. A message from your date. Your boyfriend.

[Yeonjun]: Be there in 15 minutes. Can't wait to see you :)

You smiled, though your stomach flipped in a way that felt more anxious that excited. It was prom. It was supposed to feel like magic. Perfect. Like in the movies.

Next door, Jungkook stood in front of his mirror, pulling on his black suit, with a crisp white pocket, and slim black tie. He looked sharp, older somehow. Mature in a way that would've made you blink if you thought about it for too long. His mom had popped her head into the hallway and gasped.

"You look so grown up, Jungkook!"

He chuckled as he adjusted his tie. "It's just prom."

"And I'm only sixteen, Mom. Not grown yet."

Still, something flickered behind his eyes as he picked up the corsage for Sohee. The girl who had caught his attention during PE, who giggled at his jokes and flipped her hair just enough to make his ears turn pink.

You didn’t see him leave, but you heard the soft slam of a car door, and when you peeked out your window. There he was… serious, collected, driving off with a sharpness that made your chest feel tight.

About five minutes had quietly slipped by. You’d gone over everything twice. Your phone tucked securely in your clutch, heels slipped on with practiced ease. One last glance in the mirror as you dabbed a fresh coat of gloss onto your lips, a small exhale steadying your nerves. Smoothing down the fabric of your outfit.

Then came the sound. Sharp and unmistakable, it was the doorbell chimed from downstairs, slicing through the silence like a signal that the night was finally beginning. You made your way downstairs, the soft click of your heels echoing in the quiet once you've hit the floorboard.

Yeonjun stood at the entrance, his tux well-fitted and a bouquet in hand that perfectly matched your dress. Your parents welcomed him with warm smiles and watchful eyes. There were polite exchanges, awkward laughs, and a few snaps of the two of you posing at the foot of the stairs. You pinned the boutonniere to his suit, your fingers brushing his chest, and he gently fastened the corsage around your wrist.

He looked at you. “You look beautiful.”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

It was… sweet. Not magical, but nice.

The drive to the venue passed in a blur. Streetlights flickering in the windows like fireflies, the buzz of the night ahead humming beneath your skin.

Prom was beautiful.

The gymnasium had been transformed with fairy lights strung across the ceiling, casting a soft golden glow. Music pulsed through the air, bass vibrating under your heels. Waiters in black and white attire circled with trays of finger food, and girls in shimmering dresses laughed beneath the glitter of a mirrored disco ball.

And then, you spotted them.

Kelsy and Linda, your two friends that you managed to make at the start of high school, already sitting at a round table near the back, waving excitedly when they saw you. Kelsy practically jumped up and hurried over in a cloud of lilac tulle, with Linda following closely behind, her champagne-colored gown hugging her like it was made for her.

“Oh my god, you look stunning!” Kelsy said, grabbing your hands as if she hadn’t just seen you yesterday.

“Seriously,” Linda added, eyes wide. “You’re glowing. Like you walked out of a magazine.”

You laughed, hugging them both. “You two are unreal. I was just thinking the same thing.”

Their dates trailed behind them. Kelsy's was Mark, your go-to group project MVP, awkward in a cute way. Linda had brought Kyungsoo, who gave you a polite nod and a compliment about your earrings.

Then Yeonjun stepped beside you and draped an arm around your shoulder, a bit stiff, his smile too practiced. “Hey.”

They greeted him politely, shared quick small talk, and then ushered you all back to the table for a few candid photos. For a while, it felt okay. Comfortable.

But something didn’t sit right. Yeonjun wasn’t quite present. His hand slipped from yours during conversations. He laughed more with the boys from the next table than he did with you. Scrolling his phone under the table. Texting.

You felt your eyes wander, scanning the room, drawn to something. Or someone.

And there he was.

Sitting across the venue at a table decorated with gold accents, next to Sohee in a flowy white dress that made her look angelic. Her hand was on his arm as she leaned in to whisper something. He smiled, laughed but it didn’t reach his eyes. Jungkook gradually looked up and saw you.

You both froze for a breath. He flashes a small, quiet, real kind of smile. Jungkook tilted his head slightly, motioning you over like you were still those two kids from next door, still sneaking out in the late afternoon to race bikes and fight over which Marvel movie was best.

You made a move.

But Yeonjun caught your wrist gently. “Hey, my friends are over there. They got us a table.”

You hesitated for a second.

Then you gave Jungkook the softest smile and nodded at Yeonjun. “Sure. Let’s go.”

The rest of the night unraveled like a slow unraveling thread.

You danced once, maybe twice with Yeonjun. The second time he barely looked at you. His hands weren’t on your waist like they used to be. His smile, when it came, was tired.

You went to grab a drink. He didn’t come with you.

And then, under the warm buzz of fairy lights and pop music, it happened.

Yeonjun pulled you aside near the edge of the dance floor, his voice casual like this wasn’t about to wreck your night.

“Look,” he said, hands in his pockets. “I think we should just be friends after tonight.”

You blinked. “What?”

“We’re still so young,” he went on, eyes darting around. “And I know you want something serious. But you’re… kind of clingy. I just… don’t feel it anymore.”

It wasn’t loud. No shouting. No tears on his end.

Just a quiet, casual betrayal wrapped in cologne and a neatly tied tie.

You stood frozen. Your mouth parted, your heart thudding. The music continued. Laughter, the sound of heels clicking against the polished floor, camera shutters snapping memories.

You turned before the tears could fall. Instinctively scanning the room and finding him.

Jungkook was already looking at you. His expression changed instantly. Concern replacing laughter, Sohee beside him chatting with her friends, unaware.

And in that moment, even across a crowded room, it was like he knew.

You were hurting.

And the boy who once raced you down the hill on bikes and always let you win… wouldn’t let you fall now.

You slipped past the dance floor, through the crowd of glittering gowns and tailored suits, your vision blurring. The hallway outside was dimly lit and quiet. Just the soft thud of bass vibrating through the walls and the occasional distant laugh echoing from behind the closed gym doors.

You leaned against the wall, pulling in shaky breaths, willing yourself not to cry. Not here. Not in heels and highlighter and all this effort.

But the lump in your throat wouldn’t move.

And then... footsteps.

You didn’t look up at first. Not until you heard his voice.

“Hey…”

He stood there, just a few steps away, his dress shirt slightly unbuttoned now, hair a little messier than earlier, like he’d run his fingers through it on the way out.

You straightened a little. “Did you follow me?”

His lips curved into a soft smile. “Kelsy told me to.”

Of course she did. She always loved him. Saw him as more than just your bestfriend. Even if you tried not to.

He stepped closer, hesitant. “Are you okay?”

You almost laughed, but it caught in your throat. “Do I look okay?”

“No,” he admitted. “But I thought maybe… I could change that.”

Your brows lifted. “By doing what? Giving me a lecture? A joke?”

He smiled again, a little sheepish this time. “No. By dancing with you.”

You blinked. “Jungkook-”

“I already asked Sohee,” he added, looking away for a second. “Told her I wanted... needed to check on you. Asked if she was okay with me dancing with you.”

You raised a brow. “And?”

“She was confused,” he admitted, a little breathless, “but I didn’t wait for her answer.”

You let out a small breath. “What if she’s mad?”

He shrugged, stepping even closer. “Then she’s mad. But I’m not going back in there if you’re out here crying.”

You stared at him. At this boy you’d known since you were practically in diapers. The boy who used to braid your friendship bracelets wrong and race you up the hill just to lose on purpose. The boy who now stood in a black suit under low hallway lights, asking you to dance like it meant something.

And it did.

He held out his hand.

You hesitated only a second and then placed yours in his.

He led you back in.

And when the doors opened again, the lights felt warmer. The noise dulled to a hum. The world stopped spinning.

At first, you thought Jungkook was leading you straight to the dance floor. But instead, he veered slightly. Eyes sharp, posture tense. You followed his gaze.

Yeonjun.

Still near the drinks table, laughing like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just shattered your night and walked away without a care. He was surrounded by his friends, sipping from his cup with that same careless grin.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate.

"Yeonjun," he said, voice low and cool. Like a storm on the verge of breaking.

Yeonjun looked up, squinting slightly, like he couldn’t quite believe Jungkook was talking to him. “Uh… hey?”

But Jungkook didn’t waste time.

“You’re a real piece of work.”

Yeonjun raised a brow.  “Excuse me?”

“You dumped her. On prom night,” Jungkook said, his jaw clenching. “Didn’t even have the decency to wait until the end?”

Yeonjun scoffed. “Relax. It was mutual.”

Jungkook took a step closer, voice dipping lower, colder. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t ditch someone who gave you her time, her trust... and leave her to cry alone in a hallway like she didn’t matter.”

Yeonjun blinked, caught off guard. “This really isn’t your business-”

“It is when it’s her,” Jungkook snapped. His tone wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It was laced with something heavier. Protective. Dangerous.

He leaned in close, his next words meant for Yeonjun alone. “Make her cry again… and I’ll knock you out. I won't think twice about it."

Yeonjun’s mouth parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came. Just a nervous swallow and the flush draining from his face.

And then Jungkook turned.

You were there, a few steps behind. Frozen. Wide-eyed. You couldn’t hear what exactly he had said. Only that it had left Yeonjun pale and speechless.

But somehow, you didn’t care. Yeonjun wasn’t yours anymore.

Jungkook reached for your hand again, slipping his fingers through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And then, without another word, he finally led you to the dance floor.

The slow song wrapped around the two of you like a lullaby. You swayed gently in his arms, your cheek brushing the soft fabric of his suit jacket, heart settling into a rhythm that finally made sense. Every now and then, Jungkook would look down at you. Not saying anything, just being there, and it was enough.

You could’ve stayed like that all night.

But the next track kicked in and it was not another slow song.

Suddenly, synths pulsed through the speakers, that dreamy electronic beat rising like a wave through the ballroom. You recognized it instantly. It was “Walking on a Dream” by Empire of the Sun. One of your old favorites. You and Jungkook used to blast it riding your bikes through the suburbs when the streetlights just started flickering on.

Your head popped up, and you glanced at him.

His brows raised in recognition, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin. “No way.”

You laughed. “They actually played it.”

He pulled back just enough to grab both your hands and, with no warning at all, spun you.

You stumbled a little in your heels but laughed so hard you barely cared. The dreamy beat picked up, and suddenly the dance floor, which had thinned out for the slow song, started coming back to life. Couples broke apart, laughing, moving, jumping, spinning.

Jungkook didn’t let go of your hand once.

“Come on, show me those moves from eighth grade!” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

You gasped, smacking his arm. “You promised to never bring that up!”

“Nope,” he laughed. “This is payback for when you made me do the dougie in front of your parents."

“Oh, that again-” You burst out laughing.

Then the chorus hit, and you both jumped in. Wild, messy, carefree. He twirled you again, and you threw your hands up, hair flying, dress swaying, heart light.

The stares from earlier faded into the background. You didn’t care who saw. You didn’t care who whispered. In that moment, it was just you and Jungkook, dancing like you were twelve again, like nothing had ever changed.

Sohee was still standing at the edge of the floor with her friends, watching. And maybe part of you noticed that. Maybe part of you even enjoyed it, not to be cruel, but because for once, the roles were reversed.

Jungkook caught your eye and leaned in, slightly breathless, his hair falling over his forehead. “You look like you're actually having fun again.”

You nodded, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt. “Because I am.”

He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, holding your gaze just a second longer than necessary.

And under the flashing lights, with that nostalgic beat filling the air, you suddenly realized something. That this was the moment you'd remember.

Not Yeonjun. Not the break up.

But this. The dancing, the laughter and him.

The chorus of the song pulsed around you, neon lights flickering across the dance floor like stars crashing into earth. Jungkook suit jacket was no longer on. You laughed as you spun around, letting your hair fly loose, your dress twirling at your knees. For the first time that night, you felt weightless.

Free.

You didn’t notice Jungkook had stopped dancing until you turned back toward him.

He wasn’t moving. Just standing there, chest rising and falling with steady breaths, watching you like you were the only thing in the room worth seeing.

Like the chaos, the music, the people. None of it existed anymore.

His eyes softened, lips parted just slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

You tilted your head. “What?” you asked, breathless from dancing.

He didn’t respond. Just took one step closer.

Then another.

And then before you could even process it. His hand slipped gently behind your neck, and he leaned in.

His lips met yours.

Soft at first. Like a question.

You froze for a heartbeat, not out of fear or confusion, but out of everything. Shock. Wonder. Relief. And then, without thinking, you melted into it. Into him.

The music faded beneath the roar of your pulse.

It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t perfect, but it was real. Years of knowing each other, of moments unspoken, of stolen glances and silent loyalty. It all collided in that one kiss.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. His breath was warm, his voice barely audible above the beat of the song still playing.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he whispered.

You blinked up at him, lips still tingling, heart still racing. You didn’t know what to say, not right away. But your silence didn’t scare him. He just smiled, like he didn’t need an answer. 

Jungkook tasted like soda. Lemon, to be exact. Sharp and sweet, like summer and surprises. It lingered on your lips a little longer. It felt dizzying, addictive, like something you shouldn’t want but craved anyway. And maybe part of you hated that he still technically came to prom with Sohee. That she'd been the one on his arm when he walked in. That her corsage was still fastened neatly at her wrist while you danced with the boy she was supposed to be with.

But the way Jungkook looked at you like nothing else existed… it made the edges of that ache soften. Just a little.

Still, the tension lingered, refusing to fade even as the music died down and the lights brightened. By the end of the night, after hours of mingling, laughing with friends, dancing under dim lights, and picking at plates of food. Jungkook had somehow made your prom night feel memorable, even magical in moments.

As the crowd slowly thinned, classmates trickled out in small groups, and teachers stood in clusters, exchanging quiet conversation by the doors. Sohee hovered near the exit with her arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line. She didn’t say much, but the tightness in her jaw said enough.

“I can take you both home,” Jungkook had offered, his voice casual, like nothing had shifted.

Sohee’s eyes snapped to you, then back to him. “It’s fine. I already called my dad,” she said quickly, voice a little too clipped. “He’s almost here.”

“You sure?” Jungkook asked, brows slightly knit.

“I’m sure,” she replied, gaze cutting in your direction. “Besides… you two seem busy.”

Neither of you responded to that.

Sohee walked off without another word, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement. The car ride that could’ve been a triangle never happened. Instead, it was just you and Jungkook, the night air heavy with everything unspoken.

Even though your houses were right next to each other, he still pulled into your driveway. The engine idled for a moment before he turned it off. He didn’t say anything at first. Just got out and rounded the car to open your door.

You stepped out slowly, the hem of your dress grazing the ground. His jacket, which he had put on you earlier, still draped over your shoulders.

He walked you to your front door, not rushing, not speaking. Just… being there.

And then, right as you reached the steps, he finally asked, “You okay?”

You turned to look at him, heart full and aching all at once.

A soft smile curved your lips. “I am now.”

Jungkook fell silent for a beat, his gaze shifting to the side as he slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I didn’t like him anyway.”

You raised a brow, momentarily thrown. “You mean… Yeonjun?”

He let out a quiet scoff, tongue clicking in annoyance as he shook his head. “Yeah. The guy’s a total ass. I overheard him talking with his boys once. Saying the only reason he got with you was because he felt sorry for you.”

Your breath caught. “Seriously?” A beat passed. “Wow… he really is an ass.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything right away. Just gave a small smile. It was soft, but there was something protective beneath it. His eyes flicked over to you, lingering. “You looked really pretty tonight. The dress. Your hair. Everything.”

A warmth bloomed in your chest. “Thanks. I’ve got your mum to thank for that. She has an eye for this stuff. She helped me pick out the best one.”

His smile widened, just slightly. “Well… she was right.”

You nudged him gently with your shoulder. “And you don’t look so bad yourself, Jeon.”

A silence settled again, comfortable this time.

Your eyes flicked toward the house next door, before returning to his.

"You should probably head home," you said gently, voice low. "It's late."

He nodded slowly, reluctantly. "Yeah... suppose I should."

You slipped off his jacket, handing it back as you took a small step back, arms folding in front of you. A faint smile tugged at your lips. "Goodnight, Kook.'"

He lingered for a second longer, like he wasn’t quite ready to cross the few steps that would take him back to his door. Then suddenly, without warning, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms.

Your breath caught.

His embrace was warm, secure, a little too long to be casual. He didn’t say anything. Just held you like he meant it. Like he needed it. Like letting go too soon might break something in him.

And maybe, in you too.

You stood frozen for a moment before letting yourself relax into him, your hands finding his back. The fabric of his dress shirt was soft beneath your fingertips, but it was the heartbeat you felt against your own that made your throat tighten.

He finally pulled away, slowly, almost reluctantly.

Neither of you mentioned the kiss from earlier. You didn’t need to.

Because the real moment wasn’t the kiss.

Not the dance.

Not even the jealousy.

It was this.

Jungkook, just a few steps from home, still choosing to stay for a little longer.

Still choosing you... even in silence.

Your eyes blink open slowly, the weight of half-slept dreams still clinging to your lashes. For a second, you don't know where you are. Your mind pulling from fragments of a dream that felt real only moments ago.

You weren't sixteen anymore, at prom, twirling under fairy lights, laughter ringing in your ears as Jungkook spun you around like you were the only girl in the world. No soft music, no warm hands. You weren't even in that familiar memory anymore. Instead, your ceiling stares blankly back at you, the soft hum of a Sunday morning filtering in through your cracked window.

The smell of dew and cut grass drifts in as light creeps across the floor of your room. The air feels slow, a little heavy. You let out a small sigh, rubbing your eyes. You don't even remember what you were supposed to be doing today. All you know is that last night, you stayed up far too late. Pouring yourself into dense business readings, getting nowhere with that damn case study report you had to work on.

And then there was Jungkook.

You stared at his name glowing on your phone screen, feeling a strange distance between you. His message sat there unread, unopened, just as he deserved. Yet, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to it. Back to him. After all, wasn’t this what you wanted? To have him back in your life? To have your best friend back?

You throw the covers off, the sheets twisted and clinging to your legs like the thoughts you’ve been trying so hard to outrun. It's almost pathetic. How even the air in your room feels like it carries traces of him. Like he still lingers, even when he shouldn’t.

You hate it.

That somehow, despite everything, Jungkook thinks a single message. Probably crafted with zero effort is enough to worm his way back into your day. Your mind. Your heart.

Not after what he had done.

Not after he let his friends talk about you like you were disposable. A joke. Right there, in front of him, and he didn’t flinch. He let their words hang in the air like it wasn’t his job to shut it down. Like he wasn’t supposed to be the one to protect you.

He ignored you. Brushed you off. Dismissed you when it was convenient for him.

And God, you try not to think about your twenty-first birthday. The way the day came and went, and there was no text. No call. No surprises. Just silence from the one person who was supposed to know what that milestone meant to you. Who was supposed to be there.

Especially after you showed up for his.

Even when it wasn’t your kind of scene. Chaotic, wild, too many strangers crammed into a space pulsing with loud music and strobe lights. The kind of party that felt like it had been thrown for social media rather than for connection. Drinks being poured like water, shots passed around like candy, and girls. There were girls everywhere, clinging to him, laughing a little too loudly at everything he said. Half the people there probably didn’t even know Jungkook, not really. Just heard that he was throwing a rager and decided to show up.

But you? You showed up for him.

And he didn’t even expect you to.

You can still remember how his expression changed the moment you stepped through that door into the frat house. There was a flicker of surprise. Like a part of him had convinced himself you’d finally walked away for good. Maybe, deep down, he was hoping you wouldn’t show up at all, just so he could tell himself you were the one who left first.

But you did come. Because it was tradition. Because for as long as you can remember, you and Jungkook never missed each other's birthdays. It was just an unspoken rule. A thread that tied your childhood to your present, something steady, even when everything else was falling apart.

You even got him a gift, not some small, last-minute thing, but the wireless headphones he’d once casually mentioned in passing. The latest model. Beneath his passion for film and all that, you knew Jungkook loved music, and lately, he’d been getting into gaming and streaming too. That was another reason you’d chosen those headphones.

He hadn’t expected it. You saw it, the brief, flickering shadow of something like guilt in his eyes as he unwrapped the gift, caught off guard by the thoughtfulness.

And still, somehow, when it was your turn, he didn’t even show up.

Even after you had sent him a gentle reminder the night before the actual day. A reminder of how excited you were to celebrate your twenty-first with him. You had booked at the new diner, the one with that Korean BBQ vibe you knew he’d love.

You tried to convince yourself you weren’t bothered by his absence, even as your friends kept reassuring you he’d show up.

Kelsey, was the first to notice something was off. She gave you a small, uneasy smile. “I know it’s not like him to miss something this big.”

Linda nodded beside her, frowning. “Yeah… and honestly, we’re starting to believe you. This whole ‘new Jungkook’ vibe. You might be right. He’s not the same anymore.”

Kelsey reached out to squeeze your hand. “But hey, this is your night. We’ll make sure it’s still a good one, no matter what.”

From there you blew out your candles and spent the night laughing through bowling and karaoke with your uni friends and your old high school duo. The ones who actually showed up, who actually cared.

It was real. It was alive.

And still, he didn’t.

So no, he doesn’t get to act like a message means anything. Like that one text wipes away the silence, the absence, the times you were left hanging. It doesn’t. Not even close.

Without thinking, your eyes flicker toward the bouquet of crocheted tulips sitting on your desk. Soft, pastel coloured and handmade. The ones Jungkook brought you yesterday at the weekend market.

It wasn’t even the tulips themselves. It was the nerve. The way he acted like those stitched flowers could somehow cover over everything he’s done. Like yarn and effort could could bridge the growing distance, erase the quiet moments where you felt him slipping further away.

A flare of irritation hits your chest. Sharp and fast. You scoop the bouquet off your desk with one hand and march out of your room, heavy steps on the hardwood floor.

You’re fully ready to toss the whole thing in the bin.

But you freeze mid-step at the bottom of the stairs.

In the lounge, your parents sit with mugs in hand, already dressed for the day. Your mum’s hair is loosely braided, soft strands escaping here and there, while your dad scrolls through the news on his tablet. Both look up the moment they notice you.

Your mum pauses mid-sip, blinking in confusion as you stand there like a half-dressed storm cloud, hair a bit messy from sleep, in just your oversized tee and shorts… clutching a bouquet of crocheted tulips like it’s the smoking gun in a crime scene.

To them, you probably looked unhinged. Or sleepwalking. Or both.

“Morning, Y/n,” your mum says slowly, cautiously.

“Morning,” your dad echoes, though there’s already amusement in his voice, like he knows this is about to be something.

Their eyes both land on the tulips.

Your mum leans slightly forward. “What are you doing with those?”

You blink.

Your mind blanks.

And then, like a reflex, you lie.

“They’re for you!” you blurt, voice a little too chipper, a little too high.

Your mum’s face scrunches, confused. “Wait... aren’t those from Jungkook?”

You force a laugh. “Yeah… I mean, yes. But I totally forgot I meant to give them to you instead. Thought you’d like them better. You know… handmade… tulips…”

She raises an eyebrow.

And then, just to dig the hole deeper, you add, “Also, I’ve, um… recently developed an allergy to acrylic.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you want to sink through the floor.

Your dad looks up from his mug, eyes wide. “You what?”

“Since when?” your mum chimes in, clearly caught off guard.

“Acrylic yarns,” you say, keeping a straight face, too far gone to backtrack now. “Apparently, I picked it up during uni.”

A heavy silence hangs between you all.

Your dad clears his throat, setting down his mug with a soft clink. “Well… I guess you should throw that out then."

Your mum shakes her head. "No! I'll keep it. It's from Jungkook. After all, I wouldn’t want it to go to waste."

You let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Fine, but just… keep it at a good distance from me,” you say, forcing a half-smile. “I don’t want to end up sneezing all over the place.”

Your mum grins, clearly pleased with the compromise. “Deal. I’ll treasure it. For both of us.”

Your dad chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Only you would come up with an allergy to yarns.”

You laugh along, the tension easing as the moment shifts from awkward to warm, even though the truth behind your excuse isn’t quite so simple.

Holding out the tulips awkwardly, your mum takes them gently. “Well, thank you, I guess,” she says with a soft smile.

You nod and turn on your heel before they can ask any more questions.

But as you walk back toward the kitchen. Barefoot, flustered, and still wrestling with yourself, you feel a sharp twist in your chest.

Because no matter how ridiculous it all seems, no matter how much you tell yourself those tulips mean nothing now, the truth remains. He still got to you. He found a way to crawl under your skin. And here you are, cleaning up the mess of feelings he left behind.

And it sucks.

But maybe that’s proof. Proof that you’re still learning how to let go.

And as you told that little lie about being allergic to acrylic yarns, next door, Jungkook is just waking up.

He groans, arm thrown over his eyes. His room is dim, curtain still drawn, but he can see the faint light sneaking through the edges. He doesn’t check his phone immediately. He already knows.

You still didn’t reply.

Last night, he had stayed up longer than he needed to. Pretending to focus on his film assignment while watching your bedroom light from his window. Just waiting. Just hoping. For something.

He sits up, rubbing his face, a bitter taste in his mouth. Not from sleep, but from regret. Maybe he pushed too far this time. Maybe you finally had enough. Fuck no. I can't back out yet.

Eventually, he drags himself out of bed, goes through the motions. Shower, brush teeth, throw on something decent. Still, your silence clings to him like static.

Downstairs, he’s greeted by the scent of breakfast. Toast and eggs, maybe pancakes if his dad got ambitious. His parents are chatting in the kitchen.

“Morning,” he mumbles.

“Morning, son,” his dad says. “Plans today?”

“Not really. Was gonna go out, take a stroll somewhere."

His mom looks over her shoulder. “Why don’t you and Y/n, go visit Halmoni Boksoon today? She’d love to see you both. It’s been too long.”

Jungkook pauses, heart tugging a little. Halmoni Boksoon.

He forgot about her. About the summer days you both spent there, how she’d spoil you with lemonade and stories while your parents worked overtime. The garden swings, her laugh, her warm hugs.

He feels a pang of guilt. Then warmth.

“Yeah,” he says, softer. “That might be nice. I’ll ask Y/n."

He pulls his phone out again, thumb hovering over the same thread. The message you didn’t reply to.

His mum glances up. “Why are you texting her? Just walk over. She’s right next door.”

He blinks, like it’s only just occurred to him. “Oh… right.”

He stuffs his phone into his pocket. Maybe he can fix things in person. Maybe he’ll say something you can actually believe this time.

But as he’s heading toward the door, a part of him forgets something. Something important.

The bet.

The dare.

The reason he had even sent you a text in the first place.

And what he doesn't know is that across the fence, you’re done letting him play tug-of-war with your heart. Because today isn’t about Jungkook.

It’s about you.

... so you thought.

You had freshened up since the whole crochet fiasco, hair loosely done, makeup light but enough to make you feel awake, present. Your hoodie was zipped halfway, and your sneakers sat by the door, ready to slip on. You still hadn’t fully decided on where the day would take you. Maybe a café nearby, maybe a walk down by the old park trail. Or maybe, if your parents were feeling generous, you’d ask to borrow the car. Nothing serious. Just a scenic drive with music on and the windows cracked open to let the breeze carry everything away.

In the meantime, you sat with your parents in the lounge again, the mood light. Your dad was telling one of his infamous stories from his early work days. About a photocopier jam that turned into a full on evacuation drill. On the other hand, your mum couldn’t stop laughing, her head leaning against the couch as she wiped a tear from her eye. You chuckled too, genuinely, grateful for the stillness of the moment.

It felt warm. Safe.

Normal.

Until it didn’t.

A knock echoed from the front door.

Not loud, but purposeful.

Your dad paused his story mid-sentence, looking toward the hallway. You were closest, so you stood up and walked over. Assuming it might be Ms. Jeon... or the postman.

You didn’t even hesitate as you turned the handle and opened the door.

But your breath caught in your throat the moment you saw him.

Piercings, tattoos. His hoodie was thrown on carelessly over a plain white tee, sleeves pushed up, revealing the ink that curled around his arm. But it was his eyes that did it. Those familiar doe eyes. Wide, unreadable, with the kind of softness that used to make you crumble. The kind that still somehow made you falter, even now, when you didn’t want them to.

He looked at you like he wasn’t sure if he should smile. Like he wasn’t sure if he deserved to.

You were frozen, hand still on the doorframe.

He spoke first.

“Hey.”

Simple. Quiet. Weighted.

Your mouth opened slightly, but no words came out at first. The air felt heavier with him standing there. Like he brought all the weight of your shared history with him.

“Hi,” you said, voice low. Guarded.

He glanced past you into the house, then back at you. “I didn’t mean to just show up, but… I figured I’d come see if you wanted to go visit Halmoni Boksoon. Like old times.”

Like old times.

He really had the nerve.

You almost laughed.

“Now’s not a good time,” you said calmly, trying to step out slightly, subtly blocking his view from the inside of your house. As if you were hiding something, even though he's been inside so many times before.

He nodded slowly, chewing on his bottom lip the way he always did when he was trying not to say too much, too soon. “Right. I figured. Since you didn't respond to my text.”

Before you could say anything else. Before you could tell him to go away or shut the door on him. Your mum's voice floated in from the lounge, light and curious.

“Is that Jungkook?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, silently cursing how easily his voice carried.

That one line from her was all he needed. Permission. He stepped fully into the doorway, past the invisible line you hadn’t realized you were drawing. And just like that, he was inside.

“Morning!" he called out, all fake cheer and sunshine. You rolled your eyes as he brushed past you. His scent... faint cologne and fabric softener, clinging in the air between you.

“Morning, Dad,” Jungkook added with a polite nod. Just like he always had since you were kids.

Your father looked up from his tablet, a warm smile tugging at his face, the kind that deepened the lines near his eyes. From the couch, your mum grinned. “Can you ask your mother if she’s still coming with me to bingo night?”

Jungkook chuckled as he made himself comfortable at the edge of the armchair near your dad. “Are you kidding? You know she lives for bingo night. She’ll be there with her ‘lucky lipstick’ and two daubers.”

That made your mum laugh. A real, warm sound that pulled at something nostalgic in you, the kind that made you feel like a kid again.

And as time went on, conversation flowed easily around the room, like Jungkook hadn’t just ambushed you. Like his presence wasn’t a sore spot.

“So,” your dad chimed in with a knowing grin, “you get bored of all that film study already, Jungkook? Or did you come over because you’re just bored and missing Y/n?”

Jungkook didn’t skip a beat. He turned to glance at you with a soft smile, but then his gaze landed on something else.

The crocheted tulips. Sitting on the dining table at the back. Your mum must've had place them there after your whole thing with acrylic yarn. She had noted to herself to take it up to the room later on.

His smile faltered for half a second. You watched the recognition click in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly.

“Oh,” he said, as if everything was starting to click. “Glad you like the tulips, by the way. Figured you’d have them up in your room.”

Your throat tightened, but before you could offer any sort of retort, your mum jumped in, completely unaware of the emotional minefield she was stepping into.

“She loved them so much,” she said, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Though apparently, she’s suddenly allergic to acrylic yarn now.”

You froze.

Jungkook blinked, clearly confused at first.

Then it hit him.

That was your excuse? How could you possibly be allergic to acrylic yarn? when just yesterday you seemed perfectly fine with it?

His brows lifted slightly. He didn’t say anything right away, but the way his lips curved. Tight and unsure, told you everything. He knew it was a lie. And now he knew what it meant.

She really does hate me.

But he didn’t let it show in front of your parents. Instead, he cleared his throat and kept playing the part.

“Well,” he said lightly, “guess I’ll remember to get silk next time.”

Your heart gave a bitter twist. Next time? Like you’d ever let there be a next time.

Then he turned back toward your parents, shifting the conversation before the moment could hang too long in the air.

“Actually, I came by because Mum had an idea. Thought maybe Y/n and I could go visit Halmoni Boksoon. It’s been a while since we’ve seen her... and I think it’d make her really happy.”

Your dad nodded immediately. “That’s a great idea.”

“She’d love that,” your mum added, eyes turning toward you with something unreadable behind them. “You two always used to spend time with her. I’m sure she misses you both.”

Your stomach twisted. Not because you didn’t want to see Halmoni. You loved her. You missed her. The woman practically helped raise you. Her house smelled like jasmine tea and honey, and her hugs always lasted long enough to warm the coldest days.

But going with Jungkook?

Absolutely not.

“Maybe I’ll go tomorrow,” you said quickly. “Give her a call, see what works. You can go today.”

Your mum tilted her head, frowning a little. “Why not today? You’re not too busy, are you?”

It was a fair question, but a loaded one.

Because this hesitation wasn’t like you. You’d always been eager to hang out with Jungkook. Always chasing him, always defending him, always caring for him.

So this shift? She noticed. And you knew it.

But before you could respond, Jungkook stood up and stepped toward you casually, his arm draping around your shoulders like it was second nature.

Your body went stiff under his touch.

He leaned in, cheek brushing yours, and smiled. Big, fake and charming.

“Come on,” he said playfully. “It’ll be fun. Like the old days, remember? We used to eat all her rice cakes and watch TV until we knocked out on her couch.”

You stared ahead, teeth clenched behind a forced smile.

Like the old days.

The thing about the old days? You weren’t this angry back then. You weren’t this heartbroken, this bruised, this unsure of who Jungkook really was.

And now, here he was. Still trying to stay close, to stay needed, even if he didn’t deserve it anymore.

Just from this morning and how you'd made an unspoken plan. Right from the moment the idea was planted in the room. Avoid Jungkook as much as possible during this semester break. You needed space to untangle your thoughts, to find yourself without the constant pull of his complicated presence.

But here you were now, sitting behind the wheel of your mum’s car, the leather worn but familiar beneath your fingers, and Jungkook settled in the passenger seat. A shift from the usual. You'd offered to drive, mostly because you just wanted to take control. Both the car and the situation.

The drive to Halmoni was short. No more than twenty minutes through winding suburban streets where trees bowed low over cracked footpaths, and the scent of spring blossoms hung in the air.

You tapped the stereo, letting music pour out, loud enough to fill the small space and drown out the awkward silence between you.

For a while, it seemed to work.

You kept your gaze locked on the road ahead, hands steady on the wheel, your mind calculating every turn, every light.

Jungkook sat still beside you, eyes watching the passing scenery, but not saying a word.

Until the volume dropped suddenly.

You glanced over to find him reaching for the dial, his voice breaking the quiet with a teasing edge.

“You can’t give me the silent treatment forever, you know,” Jungkook said, voice deceptively light but his eyes dark, searching and desperate. “Allergic to acrylic… really? That’s the excuse you’re sticking with?”

You bit your lip, feeling the weight of every unsaid thing pressing down. The words wanted to come out harsh. Like the bitterness still simmering beneath your skin, but you swallowed them.

“I’m driving,” you said, voice steady but cold, like glass. “And yes. I am. It’s pretty common now, actually.”

He scoffed, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the tension thickening the air between you. “Come on, you really hate me that much princess? After everything?”

“Don’t ever call me that,” you snapped. “And yeah, maybe I have stopped pretending I even liked you.”

His chest tightened, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. His breath hitched sharply, and for a moment, his eyes glazed over. Distant, lost in a memory that pulled him back to that night at the house party.

He could almost feel the rough wall pressing behind him, hear the music’s bass vibrating through the air, taste the bitterness curling on his tongue. The piercing on his lip, the fresh tattoos marking someone new.

And then his own voice. Clear and painfully familiar, echoed inside him. “Maybe I just stopped pretending.”

He blinked, shaken by the ghost of that moment.

This wouldn’t be easy.

Jungkook knew he had to take it slow, let you believe it was your choice. To open up, to get close again.

But he’d keep the leash tight, just enough so that when he pulled, you couldn’t pull away.

And if you broke… or when you did…

He’d be there to catch the pieces.

His voice dropped low, rough with emotion, almost a whisper meant only for himself. “I’m sorry, okay? For how I’ve treated you. For that night. For what I said.”

A heavy silence settled between you.

Finally, you sighed. A breath weighed down by days of frustration and fading hope. “Jungkook,” you said softly, reluctant, “Let’s just go visit Halmoni. Be civil. For her.”

He nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “For her,” he echoed.

And so, you focused on the road again. The car hummed along the quiet streets, the music now soft and fragile. Like the delicate peace between you both, uncertain but holding on, if only for a little while.

Pulling up to Halmoni Boksoon’s house, the familiar sight hit you like a bittersweet wave. Everything was the same, yet somehow different.

The garden still flourished with wildflowers, though some patches had grown a little wilder, the edges less tended than you remembered. The orange tree stood tall and proud in the corner of the yard, its branches heavy with fruit, casting dappled shadows across the cracked concrete path.

You and Jungkook climbed out of the car, the quiet crunch of gravel beneath your feet breaking the stillness of the morning. The sun warmed your skin, but a quiet nervousness settled in your chest.

Together, you walked up the worn steps to the porch, the wood creaking faintly under your weight. The door was the same faded blue with the little brass knocker shaped like a lion’s head.

You lifted your hand and pressed the doorbell.

Silence hung for a beat.

Then, a faint shuffle echoed from within.

A tiny square peep hole on the door swung open just enough for a pair of eyes to peek out. When Halmoni saw you both standing there, her face lit up instantly. You could almost hear the joy in her voice from behind the door, even before it opened.

“Oh, my darlings!” she called out, her tone bright and warm, “I can’t believe you’re both here! I thought I’d have to wait forever.”

The door swung open, and there she was. Halmoni Boksoon,  just as you remembered. Slightly stooped but strong, with silver hair pulled into a loose bun and eyes twinkling with love and surprise. Her floral apron was dusted with a hint of flour, as if she’d been baking just before you arrived.

She stepped forward and wrapped you both in a tight hug, her arms surprisingly strong despite her age.

“My goodness, what’s the occasion? Why didn’t you just call first?” she asked, her voice filled with that familiar mix of curiosity and gentle scolding.

Neither of you had the chance to answer before she took your hands and started pulling you inside, her excitement too big to hold back.

“Come on, come in,” she urged, practically dragging you past the threshold. “You both look like you could use some tea and something sweet.”

The scent of fresh jasmine tea and cinnamon greeted you the moment you stepped inside. The comforting aroma instantly melting some of the tension you'd carried in the car.

You and Jungkook exchanged a glance, one heavy with unspoken words. But for now, you both let yourselves be pulled into the warmth of the moment, even if only just for Halmoni's sake.

Jungkook now settled into the cozy armchair by the window, the soft sunlight catching on the silver glint of his piercings and the intricate tattoos winding up his forearm. Halmoni ’s eyes flickered curiously to them, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “So, it’s university break then?” 

Jungkook nodded, folding his hands on his lap. “Yeah, just a short break. Plenty of work to catch up on, but it’s nice to have a little time off.”

Halmeoni chuckled warmly. “I remember my university days. Dreaming big, feeling like the world was wide open. What are you studying again, Kook?”

"Film production,"Jungkook said proudly, a spark lighting his eyes. “However, I want to tell real stories. Things people don’t always see.”

“That’s wonderful,” she said, her gaze softening. “Your tattoos... they tell stories too, don’t they? Each one a piece of who you are.” She glanced at you then, beaming. “You two are still as close as ever, I see. Just like your mums. Best friends since before you were born, practically grew up side by side. I’ve been there for them through everything, you know.”

You smiled politely, warmed by Halmoni’s presence but weighed down by years of tangled history with Jungkook.

Halmoni’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she leaned in, her tone dipping into playful territory. “Your mums always hoped you two would grow up close. And who knows… maybe more than just best friends someday.” She paused, her smile turning sly. “You know, dating… marriage even. They used to say it like it was already written in the stars.”

You nearly choked on the tea she’d handed you moments earlier, coughing into your sleeve while Jungkook froze beside you, eyes slightly too wide.

“Me? Dating Jungkook?” you managed between coughs, your voice straining somewhere between disbelief and sarcasm.

Because the truth was. Before Jungkook turned into this smug campus jock with a permanent chip on his shoulder and a rotation of girls in his bed. There had been a time. A quiet closeness. Lingering stares. A kiss or two, more than once. His hands had known your skin. Your heart had once, stupidly, softened around the idea of him. That was probably why, back then, he refused to call it anything. Why he backed away when things felt too real.

“Halmoni, Y/n’s like a sister to me,” Jungkook said quickly, his tone smooth and casual, too casual. “I wouldn’t imagine dating her or anything like that.”

Ouch. That one stung.

You masked it with a roll of your eyes, a tight smile curling your lips. “Right. I wouldn’t dream of dating anyone like Jungkook anyway.”

Halmeoni simply chuckled, not missing the edge beneath both your voices. “Don’t worry, dear. Sometimes love sneaks up on you when you least expect it.” Her eyes flicked between the two of you. Amused, wise and too knowing for your liking. “But no pressure. Life’s too short not to take chances.”

The room felt heavier then, tension settling in like a storm cloud beneath the cozy warmth. You and Jungkook, yet again, exchanged a glance. Awkward, unreadable and said nothing.

Halmoni chuckled softly as she set down her teacup, turning her body toward you. "Now, enough about all that,' she said with a smile. "Tell me about your studies, Y/n."

Time drifted by like that. Halmoni’s stories from years past weaving seamlessly with yours and Jungkook’s tales of campus life, though he carefully left out the parties, the girls, and the way he’d treated you. You spoke of deadlines, ambitions, and distant dreams.

Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, Halmoni  stood and clapped her hands together.

“Come on, I want to show you two something out back.”

Curiosity piqued, you both followed her through the back door and into the garden. The familiar scents of earth and blooming flowers surrounded you.

To your surprise, tucked behind the orange tree and partially hidden by climbing vines, was a small greenhouse. The glass panes caught the sunlight, sparkling like a little jewel among the greenery. Nearby, sprinklers were set up, their gentle spray misting the air.

"Both your dads built it last summer,” Halmeoni said with a proud grin. “Thought I’d try my hand at some herbs and flowers. Keeps me busy.”

Jungkook stepped closer, examining the neat rows of pots and seedlings. You wandered around, feeling the cool mist from the sprinklers brush against your skin.

Suddenly, a sudden spray of water caught Jungkook off guard, drenching his shoulder.

"Halmoni!"

Then a second spray comes at him. Maybe a third and a forth. The water hit Jungkook full force, soaking him from head to toe. His shirt clung to his skin, droplets running down his tattooed arm as he sputtered and laughed, completely caught off guard.

She stood behind the hose, giggling uncontrollably, eyes twinkling with playful delight. “Had to get you back for that time you splashed me at the river when you were like... ten years old, didn’t I?”

You, on the other hand, started laughing. A sound that to Jungkook was suddenly beautiful, reminding him how much he’d missed hearing it. But just as quickly, the thought slipped away.

“Oh, so you wanna laugh, Princess?” he called out, spotting the second sprinkler nearby. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he grabbed the hose and aimed it at you. Your laughter burst louder, eyes sparkling and breath catching in surprise as the water sprayed.

The cold spray hit you square in the chest, and you squealed, stepping back with a startled laugh. Jungkook’s laughter echoed behind you as he chased after you, playful and relentless.

“Hey, come back here!” you shouted, trying to dodge the icy water.

Halmoni threw up her hands in playful surrender, shielding her face as a stray spray caught the hem of her apron. Jungkook quickly lowered the hose, a cheeky smirk tugging at his lips.

“Can’t soak the old lady,” he said with a grin. “She’s earned a pass.”

You took off again, heart racing as you weaved through the garden. Bursting out of the greenhouse, the warm, humid air clung to your skin.

But Jungkook was faster than you expected. Just as you neared the porch, his hands caught your arms, steadying you before you could slip away.

For a moment, the playful chase froze, and you caught the sight of him. The familiar face framed by wet hair plastered to his forehead, the sharp contrast of dark eyes, cheeky smile. Your childhood friend.

But then the weight of everything else crashed back.

This was Jungkook, yes. The same boy who’d once built forts with you and shared secrets beneath the stars.

But also the one who had changed. The campus fratboy.

The one who had shown you, with words and actions, that you were no longer part of his world.

And in that moment, you realized that he wasn't really your Jungkook anymore.

You pulled back gently, wiping water from your face, your voice soft but steady. "I'm glad we came together, for Halmoni," you said, meaning every word. Despite how much you didn’t want to come with him before. "But this... you can't do that."

Jungkook’s smile wavered, his eyes searching yours. For a glimpse of what once was, or maybe what still could be.

He took a slow breath, the playfulness fading from his features, replaced by something raw and uncertain.

“I said I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice low, almost desperate. “Even if it doesn’t look like it… being here, with you, it made me feel things. Made me miss things. Made me miss you.”

You took a step back, pointing a finger at him, voice sharp and unwavering.

“No… you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to feel that. Just because we’re both back home, away from uni, and you’re away from your friends, doesn’t mean you get to fool yourself into thinking you miss this. Miss us.”

Before Jungkook could find the words to respond, a warm, familiar voice cut through the charged silence.

“Omg, look at you two! So drenched!” Halmoni’s gentle laughter floated through the air as she appeared, two towels draped over her arms.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. Unaware of the storm that had just passed between you, silently hoping she hadn’t overheard a thing.

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the garden as a heavy silence settled between you.

Back inside, the warmth of the house wrapped around you both. A stark contrast to the cool dampness still clinging to your skin. You and Jungkook stood side by side, towels wrapped tightly around your bodies.

Halmoni clapped her hands together with a bright smile. “Alright, you two! Time to dry off. I’ve got some spare clothes for you both.”

With comforting ease, she bustled about, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she returned carrying two matching sets of soft, floral pajamas. The pastel hues and delicate prints looked like they belonged in a vintage catalog.

You both froze, wide-eyed and speechless.

Jungkook’s jaw dropped, a mix of disbelief and amusement in his voice. “No way. I’m not wearing that.”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. “Seriously, Halmoni?”

She chuckled warmly, handing over the pajamas with gentle care. “Why not? You know, Jungkook, when you were little, you were always fascinated by my pajama collection. You used to ask why I had so many sets that looked the same. I said they were ‘magic’ pajamas.”

Jungkook laughed, a genuine grin breaking through his usual guarded expression. “Yeah, I remember that. Guess the magic was just keeping you cozy and warm. But that was then, Halmoni.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile as Jungkook eyed the delicate fabric, clearly wrestling with his pride.

Halmoni winked. “Well then, magic pajamas it is. You two go change and get comfortable. I’ll have some rice cakes ready.”

With the floral pajamas in hand, you both headed off to change. Caught somewhere between childhood memories and the complicated present, wrapped in the softness of those silly, familiar pajamas.

The floral pajamas were soft and surprisingly cozy as you slipped into them. Once dressed, you met Jungkook just outside your room. He had changed in the spare room nearby. The two of you exchanged glances and shared a quiet laugh. There was something both ridiculous and oddly comforting about wearing matching, grandma-approved sleepwear.

Meanwhile, Halmoni gathered your wet clothes, expertly loading them into the washer and then the dryer. “Old but gold,” she said with a proud wink, patting the machine. “This house might creak, but it still has all the bells and whistles.”

Soon, you and Jungkook settled into the cozy lounge. The TV murmured quietly in the background while Halmoni brought in a steaming tray of hot rice cakes.

“Dig in, loves,” she said warmly.

The sweet, sticky treats filled the room with a calm, nostalgic comfort. Between the soft pajamas, the warm tea, and the gentle crackle of the fire, your eyes began to grow heavy.

Eventually, you drifted off, curled up at one end of the couch, your breathing soft and steady. Jungkook had fallen asleep too, head tilted back against the cushions, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

He woke first, blinking into the dim room as the flickering light from the TV danced across the walls. He turned to look at you, still fast asleep and completely unaware. Then his eyes drifted toward the porch.

Outside, beneath the soft glow of the string lights, Halmoni sat in her favorite chair with a book in her hands, the pages catching the warm light. Jungkook looked back at you again, a flicker of something tender crossing his face.

He reached out slowly, his fingers just brushing your cheek, as if trying to memorize the shape of it. You stirred, just slightly, and his hand froze midair.

Your eyes fluttered open. “What… what are you doing?” you asked sleepily, your voice thick with drowsiness.

Jungkook hesitated. His mouth opened, but no words came. Just silence thick with everything unspoken.

“Maybe we should head home,” he finally said, his voice quiet. “It’s getting late.”

You nodded, still half-lost in sleep, though the weight in the air had noticeably shifted. A little while later, Halmoni stepped back into the lounge with a warm smile. “Your clothes are all washed and dried now,” she said, placing them down. “Unless, of course, you two have decided to live in Grandma-style pajamas forever… very fashionable, you know.”

You and Jungkook exchanged a quiet glance, a small laugh passing between you.

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle, his voice still rough with sleep. “No thanks, Halmoni. I think we’re good.”

You and Jungkook exchanged a glance and nodded, grateful for the warmth of your own clothes waiting. She led you both to the laundry room where everything was folded neatly, still warm from the dryer.

In the calm of your own space, you let the floral pajamas fall away, the cool air brushing your skin as you reached for your clothes. The familiar fabric felt comforting, grounding you after the strange tenderness of the night. A quiet sigh escaped you as you pulled your top over your head. Dry, soft, and yours again.

When you returned, the three of you made your way to the front door, where Halmoni stood waiting with her warm smile never fading.

“Don’t forget to study hard, both of you,” she said softly, a gentle reminder wrapped in love. “And remember, no matter what happens, you’ve always got a place here.”

You said your goodbyes, the night outside cool but the memories inside glowing warmly as you and Jungkook stepped into the quiet dark, the past and present tangled between you.

The car ride started off quiet again. This time, though, Jungkook was the one driving. He offered and you let him. You didn’t feel like speaking much. Not when you could still feel the ghost of laughter from earlier, still trying to forget the look in his eyes when he caught you during that moment. Like for a second, he wasn’t the version of him everyone at campus whispered about.

He wasn’t the flirt. The daredevil. The player.

He was your Jungkook again, just for a blink. And it unsettled you more than anything else.

But the silence didn't stretch for long. Jungkook’s grip on the wheel grew tighter the farther you got from Halmoni’s street. His fingers tapped against the leather, his jaw flexed now and then like he was trying to bite back whatever was circling in his head.

He didn’t understand why his chest felt this tight. Why the memory of your laugh hit harder than it should. Why watching you nap earlier made something ache in his gut.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He was supposed to play the part. Win the bet. Keep control.

Not feel like he was losing it.

And before he could even think it through, he pulled the car over onto a quiet stretch of road flanked by trees and silence. He shifted into park, his breath shallow.

You frowned, glancing around. “Jungkook?” you asked, wary. “Why are we stopping? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, barely. “I just-”

You leaned slightly toward him, brows pinched. “If you’re tired, I can drive. Seriously.”

But he wasn’t listening. Not to your words, not to reason. His heart was beating louder than the music still playing low through the speakers. A love song, ironically. The worst kind.

He looked at you. Your eyes, confused. Your lips, slightly parted. You, so close yet so far away.

His hand moved without permission, brushing against your cheek, fingers slipping behind your neck like they used to. Familiar... and so fucking wrong.

Then, he kissed you.

There was nothing soft about it. Nothing rehearsed or sweet. It was rushed. Intense. A collision of old emotion and current chaos. His lips pressed against yours like he was trying to find his way back to something he’d already lost. Like if he held on hard enough, you wouldn’t slip away again.

And for a second, you let him.

Because you remembered, too.

How his mouth once felt like home.

But then reality snapped like a rubber band stretched too far.

You pulled away. Sudden and sharp, like coming up for air after drowning.

“No,” you breathed, your voice breaking slightly as you pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him back. “No, Jungkook.”

His eyes opened, stunned. You felt his breath catch, his chest rising beneath your palm. But you weren’t looking at him like you used to. Not with softness. Not with longing. Just disbelief. Hurt. Maybe even pity.

“What the hell are you doing?” you whispered. The words came out raw, like they’d been scraped up your throat.

Jungkook blinked, lips still parted, like he hadn’t realized what he’d done until he saw the look on your face.

“I— I don’t know,” he said, the words coming out small, pathetic. “I just…”

You shook your head. Slowly. Like even trying to understand him would hurt too much.

"You can't just do that," you said, your voice trembling now, but not from fear. From restraint. "You don't get to leave me hanging and then act like you still have the right to come back."

He wanted to argue. To defend himself.

But what could he say?

You were already turning away, eyes glassy with unshed tears, jaw tight like you were holding back more things you really wanted to say.

“Let’s just go home,” you muttered, almost to yourself.

Jungkook didn’t move at first. He just sat there, blinking through the gravity of what he’d done.

Then, finally he nodded.

He turned back to the wheel, hand gripping it tighter than necessary.

The car rumbled to life.

The music kept playing. A soft echo of everything that now felt impossibly far away. But the silence between you had changed.

You looked out the window, trying to gather the pieces of your composure.

Jungkook didn’t look at you again. He just couldn’t.

And as the car rolled forward through the dimming streets, the distance between you felt like a wall neither of you knew how to break through anymore.

The drive home felt like a dream you hadn’t signed up for. One you wanted to wake up from, but your body was still caught in its haze. The streetlights flickered past in streaks of gold, and even though the kiss had ended minutes ago, it still lingered on your lips like a secret you didn’t ask to keep.

Jungkook didn’t say a word the entire ride back.

When he pulled into your driveway, he shifted the car into park, the soft click echoing louder than it should’ve. He sat there for a second, gripping the wheel like it was the only thing anchoring him. Then, with a quiet exhale, he turned off the ignition. The hum of the engine died, leaving only the sound of your shallow breaths in the stillness.

He reached into the cup holder, grabbed your mum’s car keys, and finally stepped out.

Before you could even gather your thoughts, the passenger door opened. He stood there, not meeting your eyes, and gently placed the keys into your palm. Careful and almost distant, like he was passing back something delicate he wasn’t sure he should’ve been holding. Then without a word, with his head low and hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie, Jungkook turned and walked away.

You blinked after him, heart thudding loud in your chest as you watched him cross the small patch of grass between your houses, disappearing into the warm glow of his porch light.

Not even a glance back.

You hated that it hurt.

Still trying to make sense of what just happened, you unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The house was dim and quiet, expect for the soft buzz of the hallway light and the faint creak of the floor beneath your feet.

Your mum was still awake, sitting on the couch in her coat, bingo cards stacked beside her and a half-drunk cup of tea on the coffee table. The scent of peppermint hung in the air.

She looked up as soon as you entered, face brightening. Until she saw the look on yours.

“There you are,” she said warmly, her voice soft. “I just got back not long ago. Your dad’s knocked out already. How was Halmoni?”

You stood frozen for a moment, keys still clenched in your hand, shoes still on. You didn’t answer right away. You couldn’t. You were still replaying it all. The garden, the water fight, the nap, his hand brushing your cheek, his mouth on yours like none of the damage he’d caused mattered.

Your mum tilted her head gently, eyes narrowing in the way only a mother could. “Everything okay?”

“I…” you started, and for a terrifying moment, you thought about blurting it out. Jungkook kissed me. You wanted to say it. Wanted someone else to hold the weight of it. Maybe even tell you what to do.

But you couldn’t. The words got caught in your throat like splinters.

Instead, you gave a soft, tight smile. “Yeah. Halmoni’s good. Still the same.”

Your mum didn’t look fully convinced, but she smiled back and nodded slowly. “That’s nice to hear. Did she show you her greenhouse? She's been obsessed with it lately."

You chuckled softly. “Yeah, I saw it. It’s still incredible. She hasn’t lost that spark. Still playful as ever.”

Your mum yawned into her hand, clearly letting the moment pass, though something flickered behind her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you and Jungkook went. It’s good to see you two spending time together."

You froze at that. Just a second.

Then you nodded stiffly. “Yeah. I guess.”

She gave you one last glance as she stood, gathering her things. “Get some sleep, honey. Big day tomorrow or not, you look like your mind’s still somewhere else.”

It is.

“Night, Mum,” you murmured.

“Night. Love you, Y/n.”

She disappeared down the hallway and up the stairs, leaving the silence to settle around you. At last, you were alone with your thoughts again.

You stood in the dark living room, staring at nothing, your heartbeat still racing with the weight of that kiss.

You still loved him. Maybe always would.

But you hated him just as deeply. Maybe even more.

And what haunted you most… was that you didn’t know which one would win.

The door of his bedroom clicked shut behind him with a dull finality, and he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath since he left your driveway.

What the fuck was that.

The feel of your lips lingered, soft, shocked and hesitant. The way you looked at him, with your eyes wide and breath caught. That flicker of something raw and real he hadn’t expected.

That kiss wasn’t just a moment. It was a test.

A desperate, reckless test to see if any of it still mattered. If the years and distance and walls you’d both built had erased what he’d never been able to forget.

From his side of things, he remembered the first time he introduced you to the guys. Namjoon, Taehyung, Jimin, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok. The brothers from the frat house, the ones who made up his world on campus.

How he’d called you his best friend... his little sister, the one constant he wanted to keep close.

But the guys never let him forget it. They teased him relentlessly, mocking how protective he was. Joking about “bro code” and “bros before hoes.”

You didn’t fit their scene.

You never had.

And maybe that was the problem.

Jungkook was just a guy trying to find himself. Lost in the chaos of university life, trying to belong in a world where loyalty meant everything.

And maybe you were right... that he wasn’t being true to himself. Or to you. But fuck it, he was stubborn as hell. His ego too big to just walk away. He needed their approval, the loud, reckless validation from his frat brothers. The wild nights, the jokes, the unspoken code that made him feel alive, even if it meant pushing away the people who mattered most.

Because maybe he was scared. Scared to admit what you already knew... that he’d lost his way.

He shouldn’t have kissed you.

Not then.

Not like that.

But he did.

And that feeling ripped through every excuse he’d made.

He collapsed onto the edge of his bed, restless, heart pounding. His phone buzzed. Messages from the guys.

[Taehyung]: How’d it go man? [Hoseok]: did u manage to fuck her yet? [Namjoon]: Tell us everything.

He stared at the screen, jaw tight.

But he didn’t reply.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he needed silence. To sit with what that kiss had just confirmed. To figure out what the hell he actually wanted.

And if he was ready to admit it... even to himself.

The moment you stepped into the aquarium, the smell of sea salt and the low hum of bubbling tanks filled the air. You glanced over at Jungkook, who had this boyish sparkle in his eyes, already bouncing on his heels like a kid on a sugar high.

“I swear, you’re more excited than the actual kids here,” you teased, nudging his arm.

He shot you a grin, that familiar dimple popping out. “Excuse me, I’ve waited my whole life to see jellyfish in high definition.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile creeping across your face. “You’re such a nerd.”

“And yet,” he said, dramatically placing a hand on his chest, “you still agreed to come here with me. What does that say about you, huh?”

You lightly smacked his shoulder with the map of the exhibits. “That I’m the nicest person in the world.”

He laughed, the sound echoing through the hall of glowing tanks. As the day went on, you both wandered from exhibit to exhibit, arguing over which sea creature would win in a fight, daring each other to touch the weirdest things in the tide pool, and trying (and failing) to take cute selfies without one of you making a stupid face.

But it was right after the dolphin show that the moment happened.

You had both finished your soft serve, and he threw a snarky comment your way about how you always managed to drop yours. With a playful gasp, you narrowed your eyes and took off down the path lined with colorful coral tanks.

“Oh, don’t you dare run from me, Y/n!” he yelled, already laughing as he chased after you.

You shrieked through giggles, weaving between displays and dodging a few surprised tourists. “Catch me if you can, Jeon!”

“NO RUNNING IN THE EXHIBIT!” a security guard shouted sternly from somewhere behind a jellyfish display.

“Sorry!” you both called back. Neither of you slowing.

It didn’t take long. His footsteps quickened behind you and in a blur, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You squealed as he lifted you off the ground and spun you in circles, laughter spilling from both of you like the crashing waves in the background.

“You’re so annoying!” you said between laughs, breathless.

He finally slowed and set you down gently, his arms still around you. You turned your head to look at him and for a second, everything quieted. Just you, him, and the soft glow of the tank beside you reflecting in his eyes.

“You love it,” he whispered.

You did. Maybe more than you were ready to admit back then.

The sun had already started to dip by the time you both left the aquarium, casting a golden hue over the city. The air smelled faintly of the ocean, and Jungkook insisted on getting takeout to eat by the pier. You didn’t argue. Not when he looked at you with those soft, hopeful eyes.

Eventually, after too many fries and shared sips from the same drink, the two of you ended up on his bed back home, curled up under the familiar weight of a blanket

A quiet, comfortable stillness had settled between you both, only interrupted by the low hum of his playlist in the background.

You were tucked into his side, your head resting on his chest as his fingers absentmindedly traced slow circles on your shoulder. It was the kind of closeness that felt… more. It wasn’t just friends. Not anymore.

You tilted your head slightly to look up at him. “Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

You hesitated, watching the way his jaw moved as he chewed the inside of his cheek, like he already knew something was coming.

“What are we?”

He blinked, eyes flicking down to meet yours, and in that moment, you could feel his whole body tense ever so slightly under you.

“You’re my best friend,” he said slowly.

You nodded once, sitting up just a little but still staying in his arms. “Yeah, but… friends don’t do this. They don’t cuddle like this. They don’t hold hands like we did today, or kiss."

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out at first.

“I know,” he finally murmured. “I know it’s not just… that. But I—” He exhaled hard, sitting up a little more so you were eye to eye. “I’m scared, Y/n.”

“Of what?”

“Of ruining it,” he said. “Of putting a label on something that’s always been so easy. So safe. You mean… everything to me. But if we try to go beyond this and it doesn’t work... what if I lose you? What if we lose this?”

You looked down at your fingers, fiddling with the seam of the blanket. “And what if we don’t? What if it’s even better?”

His expression cracked just slightly, vulnerability bleeding into every part of him. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear gently, like he was memorizing you.

“I don’t have the answers,” he said softly. “But I want to keep you close. I want this... whatever this is, even if I don’t have the courage to define it yet. I just hope… you’re okay with that.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then you rested your head against his chest again, sighing quietly. “I don’t know if I am. But for now… I think I’d rather have some part of you than none at all.”

And neither of you said anything after that. Just the quiet thudding of his heartbeat against your ear, and the unspoken question still lingering in the air.

[mrsfancyferrari]

More Kisses?

Summary: LN4 + “One kiss is just never enough.”

Song: Mitski – My Love Mine All Mine

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 5.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

The moment you stepped into your shared apartment, the weight of your decision to impose a "kiss ban" hung heavily in the air. You had just returned from spending time with Lando’s family, a chaotic gathering full of laughter, inside jokes, and the unmistakable warmth of family love.

It was delightful, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that Lando’s relentless affection was bordering on overwhelming, even if it was sweetly intoxicating.

“Babe! I’m home!” you called out, hoping to summon him from whatever corner of the apartment he was in.

You heard a loud crash and then a string of colorful curses that made you stifle a laugh. He really should have been more careful. A moment later, Lando appeared, looking slightly disheveled, his tousled hair more charming than ever.

“Baby! You’re back!” he exclaimed, his green eyes lighting up. He rushed over, arms outstretched for a hug, but you placed a gentle hand on his chest, stopping him just short of closing the distance.

“Wait,” you said, your tone firm yet soft, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flit around. “We need to talk.”

Lando's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Talk? About what?” He leaned in closer, the teasing smile on his face betraying his eagerness to press his lips against yours.

You sighed, taking a step back to put some distance between you. “About the kissing,” you said, trying to keep your expression serious despite the laughter bubbling inside you. “I think we need a ban.”

“A ban? A ban on what?” he asked, incredulity creeping into his voice.

“Kissing,” you clarified, your heart racing as you felt his gaze bore into you, almost as if he was trying to understand the madness that was your idea.

He chuckled, tilting his head as he tried to gauge whether you were joking. “Are you serious right now? You want to ban kisses? How does that even work?”

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. “Oscar suggested it. He said he’s tired of watching us kiss shamelessly in front of him. And honestly, it’s getting a bit out of hand, don’t you think?”

Lando’s expression shifted from amusement to genuine concern. “But I can’t help it! One kiss is just never enough!” He took a small step toward you, his playful demeanor shifting into something more sincere. “You know I just love being close to you, right?”

You felt the warmth creeping up your cheeks, the sincerity of his words hitting you like a wave. “I know, and I love that about you, but we can’t just… kiss every second. We need some boundaries. Maybe we can focus on other ways to express our love, like words or…” You trailed off, searching for a distraction. “Cooking together?”

Lando’s brows furrowed deeper, and he chuckled again, albeit a bit resigned this time. “Cooking? Really? You think that’s a fair substitute for kisses?”

“I mean,” you shrugged, trying to sound casual, “it’s definitely less distracting. Plus, I make a mean spaghetti.”

He shook his head, a smile breaking through his mock frustration. “You know I can’t resist your spaghetti. But can’t we do both? Kiss and cook?”

You tried to suppress a giggle. “See! That’s exactly what I mean! You can’t even think about anything else but kissing!”

“Guilty as charged,” he replied, smirking. “But only when it comes to you. It’s like every time I look at you, I just… I want to kiss you. You’re irresistible.”

A flutter of warmth settled in your chest at his admission, but you had to stay strong. “So, no kisses until further notice,” you said, attempting to sound authoritative, though the twinkle in your eyes gave away your struggle.

Lando sighed dramatically, flopping onto the couch with mock despair. “This is a dark day in history. My heart feels like it’s been put in a cage.”

You laughed, the tension dissipating slightly. “It’s just a temporary ban! We can revisit this later. For now, let’s focus on some quality time without the kisses.”

He leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. “Fine, but if I’m going to be tortured with this ban, you’d better be the one to cook.”

“Deal,” you said, walking into the kitchen, still smiling. You could hear him mumbling exaggeratedly about the cruelty of your ban as he followed you.

As you began to gather the ingredients for spaghetti, Lando leaned against the counter, watching you with a fond expression that made your heart race. “You know,” he said, “I can’t believe you actually put a ban on kissing. It’s like trying to stop a wildfire with a bucket of water.”

“I just want to enjoy our time together without feeling like I’m constantly on guard against your lips,” you replied, trying to stay focused on the task at hand.

“On guard? You make it sound like I’m some sort of villain, lurking in the shadows, waiting to steal a kiss,” he laughed, and you could see the mischief brewing in his eyes.

You turned to face him, hands on your hips. “You kind of are! Always sneaking up on me when I least expect it.”

His grin widened. “Okay, fair point. But can I at least get a kiss before we start cooking? Just one? A tiny one?”

You shook your head, fighting back a smile. “Nope! That’s against the rules!”

He pouted, an exaggerated look of disappointment crossing his face. “This is torture, and here I thought we could enjoy a peaceful evening together. How can we have peace without kisses?”

“We can enjoy each other’s company! We can talk, laugh, and maybe even—”

“Cook,” he finished, his voice dripping with faux resignation. “Right. The not-kissing evening.”

Despite the ban, the energy between you felt electric, even with the kitchen separating you. You busied yourself with chopping vegetables, trying to ignore the way Lando was still watching you, as if you were the only thing in the world.

Suddenly, he took a step closer, his tone shifting to something more playful. “You know, I’m still going to try to sneak in a kiss, right?”

You glanced up, your heart racing. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh, I would! The ban may be in effect, but I’m nothing if not persistent.”

You shook your head, a laugh escaping your lips. “You are impossible!”

“And yet you love me for it.” He leaned against the kitchen island, a smug grin on his face.

“Maybe,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But you might just make me regret this decision.”

“Challenge accepted!” he declared, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

As the evening unfolded, you both settled into a rhythm, laughing and talking as you cooked together. It felt nice, invigorating even, to focus on something other than the usual frenzy of kisses.

You could see the effort Lando was making to respect the ban, though every now and then, he would inch closer to you, his lips parting as if to tease.

When dinner was finally ready, you plated the spaghetti and sat across from each other at the small dining table. As you took your first bite,

Lando leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, a mischievous glint still in his eyes. “I have to say, this is pretty good, but it would be better with a kiss.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You are relentless!”

“It’s a gift,” he said, winking at you. “Just think of me as your charming little devil.”

By the time dessert came around, a rich chocolate cake that you had made for the occasion, the kiss ban had become a playful game between you two.

Lando would swoop in close, pretending to lean in for a kiss, and you would laugh and pull away, your heart racing at the prospect of breaking the ban.

But as the evening wore on and you both sunk into comfortable conversation, you found yourself forgetting about the kiss ban, enjoying his presence more than you thought possible. And despite the kisses you both were missing, the connection felt even more profound.

Eventually, you both settled back on the couch, empty plates pushed aside. Lando pulled you against him, his warmth enveloping you. “Okay, I admit it,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “This wasn’t so bad.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I agree. Maybe we can keep this up a little longer, at least until we get better at cooking together.”

He chuckled, “So no kisses for the rest of the week?”

“Let’s see how we do,” you replied, your heart fluttering.

Lando paused, his expression turning serious as he looked into your eyes. “But you know, as much as I love our cooking time, I might just have to break that ban. Because even if we can’t kiss, I don’t think I can ever stop wanting to.”

And just like that, the air shifted. The warmth between you felt different now—full of unspoken promises and an electrifying tension that made your pulse quicken.

With a sly smile, he added, “And besides, we both know that one kiss is never enough.”

You laughed, your resolve crumbling as he pulled you closer, and despite the ban, you felt drawn to him.

You laugh, a nervous sound that betrays the flutter in your stomach. “No, Lando,” you tease, a hint of desperation in your tone. “You know the rules.”

He pouts dramatically, his bottom lip jutting out. “But rules are made to be broken, right?”

“Not these rules,” you reply, shaking your head, though your resolve is crumbling under the weight of his gaze.

The air was electric at the paddock, filled with the buzzing excitement of race day. You watched as cars sped around the track, the sound of engines roaring sending adrenaline coursing through your veins.

It was a familiar thrill, one that you had grown to love, but today your attention was focused on someone else entirely—Lando Norris, your boyfriend.

You felt a playful smile creep onto your lips as you caught sight of him in his racing gear, deep in conversation with Oscar Piastri. Lando had always been a charismatic figure, effortlessly charming those around him, but today he looked particularly grumpy.

His brow was furrowed, and every so often, he would steal a glance in your direction, his emerald green eyes narrowing as if he were assessing a challenge.

The ban on kissing had been Oscar's idea, a playful experiment to see how long you could go without stealing a kiss from each other. The previous night, you had both agreed to limit your displays of affection, only allowing cheek kisses.

But as the hours passed, you found yourself relishing in the way Lando's frustration grew with each passing moment. You couldn't help but tease him a little, especially since you had applied a fresh coat of cherry-red lip gloss before leaving your hotel room.

“Why do you keep putting that on?” he had grumbled earlier, eyes glued to your lips as you made a show of smoothing the glossy layer over your mouth.

“Just a little something to brighten my day,” you had replied, your smile as sweet as the gloss itself.

It was hard to suppress your laughter as you saw him trying to sneak in a kiss whenever he thought you were distracted. You caught him several times, his lips almost brushing against yours before you playfully swatted him away.

“Lando, no! You know the rules!” you giggled, feeling slightly bad for how much fun you were having at his expense.

Now, as you walked through the paddock, you could sense Lando's irritation radiating off him in waves. You caught Oscar giving Lando a concerned look, and it made you chuckle softly.

“Why is he mad all of a sudden?” Oscar asked, clearly confused, as Lando shot him a pointed glare.

“Oh, nothing,” you said innocently, crossing your arms and feigning ignorance. “He’s just mad that you suggested a kiss ban.”

Oscar blinked a few times, and then a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Serves him right for traumatizing me for so long,” he replied, clearly enjoying the banter.

Lando rolled his eyes dramatically, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward as if he were fighting a smile. “You guys are hilarious,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Really, I’m just having the time of my life.”

You felt a pang of guilt at his obvious frustration, but the way his eyes sparkled with annoyance made it hard to take him seriously. It was cute how he managed to look both adorable and sulky at the same time.

“C’mon, Lando! Lighten up! It’s just a kiss ban,” you teased, leaning closer, knowing full well how that would drive him even more wild. “You’re not really mad, are you?”

“Yes! I am!” he shot back, but the way his voice wavered made it evident that he was only half-serious.

“You know you love it,” you replied, your voice softening a little. “It’s like a game.”

“More like a punishment,” he huffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest as if he were warding off a chill.

“Let me ask you this—what’s the worst that could happen?” you challenged, relishing the chance to push his buttons just a little more.

“The worst? I could explode from all the pent-up affection,” he shot back, his expression playful yet pained. “Or, I could just look at your lips all day and die of frustration!”

“Drama queen!” you laughed, clearly enjoying the effect you had on him.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him.

Oscar, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, couldn’t help but chime in again. “So, you’re telling me that if I suggested a kiss ban for you two, Lando would actually listen?”

“Oh, he’s definitely listening,” you replied, suppressing another laugh as you saw Lando squirm.

He rolled his eyes dramatically but couldn’t hide the glimmer of amusement in his gaze. “A kiss ban? Really? What’s next, a no-hug policy?” His tone was light, but you could see that he was slightly intrigued.

“You know how competitive you can get,” you said, your tone playful yet sincere. “I thought it might be fun to see if you can keep your lips to yourself for an entire week.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said with mock seriousness, crossing his arms defiantly.

Oscar chuckled. “Good luck with that, Lando. I’ll be impressed if you manage it.”

“Please,” Lando retorted, feigning confidence. “I could go a month without kissing her if I wanted to.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. “Oh really? Is that a promise or a threat?”

He stepped closer, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let’s just say it’s a motivational tactic. No kisses means more energy for the track. I’m going to be unbeatable.”

You pretended to think for a moment, placing a finger on your chin. “Or you could just use the energy you gain from kissing me. That might work too.”

Oscar, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, couldn’t help but chime in again. “I don’t know, it sounds like a pretty solid strategy, Lando. Maybe you should reconsider this kiss ban.”

“Please,” Lando replied, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m fine. I’m focused. Kisses are overrated.”

You smirked, enjoying the banter. “Sure they are. Keep telling yourself that.”

Just then, Lando's team principal called him into a meeting. He glanced back at you, a slight frown on his face. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t go forgetting how much you’ll miss me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, trying to sound indifferent, though your heart raced.

As Lando walked away, Oscar turned to you, shaking his head with a smile. “You’re really going to keep him like this the whole week?”

“Absolutely,” you replied confidently. “Consider it an experiment.”

“I’ll be curious to see how it goes. You might just find out that he’s a lot more disciplined than he looks.”

“Right,” you said with a scoff, leaning against the wall. “He’s as disciplined as a puppy in a room full of chew toys.”

Oscar laughed, then said, “Well, I have to run. I’m meeting my girlfriend. Just try and keep him like this the whole week, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best,” you promised, waving goodbye as he walked away.

With a determined grin, you headed back to the hospitality suite, a perfect plan forming in your mind. Lando was competitive, and if you challenged him like this, he would rise to the occasion.

By day three, it was a different story. The ban became a tangible presence in the room, and Lando was unmistakably more restless, his eyes often drifting to your lips.

You couldn’t help but smirk at his struggle, fully aware of how the ban was eating at him.

Lando lay sprawled on the couch, his head resting on your lap, looking up at you with those playful eyes that were now filled with a hint of desperation.

“You know, I could break the ban if you’re just addicted to kissing,” you said, running your fingers through his hair, relishing the way he sighed contentedly at your touch.

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice low, eyes narrowing with playful determination. “Nope, I’ll win this challenge.”

“Are you sure? Because I feel like you’re going to kiss me now,” you teased, leaning in slightly, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, your lips tantalizingly close.

Lando’s gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, and you could see the battle raging within him. “If you keep doing that, I might lose my mind,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

“Good! That’s the idea,” you said, biting your lip, thoroughly enjoying this little game.

“Seriously, though,” he said, sitting up and shifting closer, “you’re being cruel. I didn’t think you were capable of this level of torture.”

You laughed, a sound that echoed through the room, and you shifted away slightly, just to watch his expression shift from determination to pure yearning. “I’m just testing your willpower, my love. Think of it as a character-building exercise.”

“A character-building exercise? I’m going to come out of this a complete wreck,” he retorted, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the couch, trying to appear indifferent.

You smirked. “You have no idea how much fun I’m having right now.”

“Just wait until I find a way to get you to kiss me,” he said, his voice dripping with playful confidence.

“Oh, please. You think you can outsmart me?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Lando leaned forward, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Just watch me.”

And so the days rolled on. Each moment was a delightful mix of tension and playful banter. You found yourself glancing at Lando more often, his lips pulling you in like a moth to a flame.

You reveled in the way he tried to distract you, often resorting to exaggerated stories about his day or silly impressions that made you laugh until your sides hurt.

But all the while, his eyes would betray him, flickering down to your lips, his desire barely contained.

On the morning of the fourth day, the atmosphere had shifted. Lando entered the kitchen, his usual buoyancy replaced by a grumpy pout. “This ban is ridiculous,” he grumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

You looked up from your spot at the table, a mischievous smile spreading across your face. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle the heat?”

“I think I’m going to combust if I don’t kiss you soon,” he replied, his voice laced with frustration as he leaned against the counter, looking positively adorable in his grumpiness.

“Ah, but that’s the challenge, isn’t it?” you teased, savoring the power of the moment.

“Challenge or torture?” he shot back, running a hand through his messy hair. “Because I’m starting to think it’s the latter.”

“Keep it up, and you might get a reward,” you said, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Reward?” he echoed, his interest piqued. “What kind of reward?”

You stood up, moving closer to him, your heart racing as you sensed his breath hitch in response. “A kiss, of course,” you whispered, inching even closer.

He leaned in, eyes darkening with longing. “You’re such a tease,” he breathed, his lips almost brushing against yours.

“Maybe I am,” you admitted, your pulse quickening as the distance between you closed. “But you love it.”

“I hate it,” he said, but you could see the cracks forming in his resolve. “Okay, I hate that I love it.”

And then he was right there, his lips hovering tantalizingly close, and you knew the kiss ban was on the verge of breaking.

“Just one little kiss,” he urged, his voice low and pleading, a hint of desperation coloring his tone.

You felt your resolve crumbling, but you couldn’t let him win so easily. “No, not yet,” you said, stepping back, savoring the way his eyes widened in disbelief.

“Why do you do this to me?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in mock frustration. “You’re driving me insane!”

You laughed, a melodic sound that echoed in the kitchen. “That’s the point, love. Remember, this is about restraint!”

With a dramatic sigh, Lando rolled his eyes, but you could see the challenge in his smile. “Fine. I’ll hold out. But you’d better prepare for the consequences of this little ban once it’s over.”

“Oh? And what are the consequences?” you asked, feigning innocence.

He stepped closer again, his gaze locked onto yours, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I’ll make you regret every single second you made me wait. Trust me; it’ll be worth it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt the thrill of anticipation surge through you. “I’m looking forward to it,” you said, your heart racing.

The days stretched on, each filled with the electricity of desire, laughter, and playful banter, but also with the sweet ache of longing.

You knew that the end of the kiss ban was near, and the tension between you was growing thicker with each passing moment.

You had managed to keep it up for a week, but now, as the sun peeked through the clouds on race day, the ban was set to lift. You had concocted a plan to reward Lando after his race if he performed well.

Little did he know, it was the last day of the kiss ban, and you were ready to make it worth the wait.

The moment you stepped into the paddock, hand in hand with him, you felt a surge of excitement. Lando was starting in pole position today, and you could tell he was nervous.

He had that familiar furrow in his brow, his eyes darting around, and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked when he was deep in thought.

“Don’t worry,” you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be fine. Just remember to breathe. And if you do really good, you might get something you’ve wanted,” you added, trying to keep your gaze forward as you teased him.

Lando stopped in his tracks, turning to you with wide eyes. “Really?” he muttered, disbelief lacing his voice.

You nodded, a mischievous grin spreading across your lips. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

As you walked into his garage, the tension was palpable. Lando’s team members were bustling about, making final adjustments to his car, while you took a moment to admire the way he carried himself, radiating determination and focus.

But you weren’t going to let him off easy. You had chosen a dress today that hugged your curves perfectly, knowing it would drive him wild.

“Hey,” you said, leaning against the garage wall, your dress swirling around your legs. “You know, I’ve always thought pole position looked good on you.”

He shot you a sidelong glance, a hint of a smile breaking through his serious facade. “And I’ve always thought that dress looks even better on you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you playfully rolled your eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.”

“Come on!” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You know I can’t resist a compliment.”

The race was getting closer, and Lando’s focus sharpened. You knew he needed to concentrate, but you couldn't help but want to poke a little fun at him.

Every time he leaned in to give you a kiss, you’d push him away playfully, teasingly. He’d groan in frustration, and the sound sent shivers down your spine.

“You know, if you want to kiss me, you could just ask,” you said, pretending to ponder deeply.

“I’m trying to be a good boyfriend here!” he huffed, running a hand through his hair, making it even more tousled. “But it’s hard when you keep pushing me away!”

“Maybe I like watching you squirm,” you teased, stepping closer just to see the way his eyes darkened with desire. “Aren’t you the one who said patience is a virtue?”

“Not when it comes to you!” he exclaimed, leaning in again, but this time you sidestepped him, letting out a laugh that echoed through the garage.

“Focus on the race!” you instructed, trying to catch your breath from giggling. “I want to see you win, remember?”

“Right,” he said, eyes narrowing playfully. “Just you wait. After I win this race, I’m going to claim that kiss whether you like it or not.”

You smirked, knowing that he was already thinking about the celebration. “Big talk for someone who still needs to get through the race. Now go on, do your thing!”

With that, Lando stepped into the car, the world around him fading as he prepared for the race. You took your position on the sidelines, heart racing as the engines roared to life.

You could see the determination etched on his face through the visor, and you couldn’t help but cheer him on, your heart swelling with pride.

As the race unfolded, every turn and pit stop was a thrill. Lando maneuvered through the track with skill, your voice mingling with the cheers of the crowd as you called out his name, urging him on.

Every lap that went by, you felt the tension build—not just for the race, but for what awaited you both afterward.

When the checkered flag waved, and Lando crossed the finish line first, a scream of excitement escaped your lips. The crowd erupted into cheers, and Lando’s team surrounded him in jubilation.

He climbed out of the car, his face flushed with adrenaline and happiness, but you noticed something else in his eyes—an eagerness that had been brewing all day.

He spotted you among the crowd and sprinted over, pulling you into a tight embrace, his excitement wrapping around you like a warm blanket. “I did it!” he exclaimed, breathless and grinning.

“I knew you could!” you cheered, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “You were amazing!”

“Now, about that reward…” he said, his voice low and teasing, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You laughed, a sound that mingled with the cheering crowd. “I suppose I owe you something for your incredible performance.”

His smile widened, and you could see the flicker of hope in his gaze. “So, are you saying the kiss ban is officially over?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of anticipation wash over you. The moment felt electric, charged with the unspoken promise of what was to come.

“Good, because I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he said, taking a step closer, the crowd fading into a blur around you.

With a teasing glint in his eye, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his. The kiss was intense and fiery, expressing raw desire and strong emotion, as if all the days of restraint melted away in that one shared moment.

When you pulled back, breathless, he grinned down at you, his gaze unwavering.

“There’s more where that came from,” he said, voice laced with a hint of playful challenge.

Before you could respond, he had to leave you to celebrate with his team, ready to bask in the glory of his victory. As he walked away, you could still feel the heat of his kiss lingering on your lips, a sweet reminder of the moment.

You watched him interact with his team, the way they lifted him in excitement, the way they all celebrated together.

You felt proud, not just of his victory on the track but of the man he was—the kind, passionate, and fiercely dedicated individual you had fallen for.

You lean against the wall of Lando's driver room, the scent of motor oil and sweat mingling in the air, a stark reminder of the adrenaline that pulsed through the circuit just hours earlier.

 You glance at your phone for the umpteenth time, the clock ticking slowly, each passing minute amplifying your anticipation and the thrill of waiting.

Finally, the door creaks open, and you straighten up, a smile breaking across your face. "Congratulations, champ!" you exclaim, clapping your hands together. The thrill of his victory races through you like the engines outside.

Lando steps in, still clad in his race suit, sweat glistening on his brow, his eyes bright with triumph. But instead of the celebratory embrace you expect, he surprises you by quietly locking the door behind him.

In an instant, he crosses the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours, hard and urgent.

Your breath hitches as you lean into him, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer against the wall. It feels like the entire world outside has faded away, leaving just the two of you in this charged moment, hearts pounding in sync.

But just as quickly as he kissed you, he pulls away, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “What if I want a kiss ban, love? I want to tease you too.” His grin is too wide, stupid and cocky and beautiful.

“Lando, please,” you beg, aware of how desperate your voice sounds. The kiss ban affects you as much as it affects him; you’ve tried not to show it, but the tension is electric, and every moment apart feels agonizing.

He laughs softly, a sound that resonates in the small room, yet his eyes twinkle with mischief. “Okay, okay.” He leans closer, brushing his lips against yours again, but stopping just short, leaving you longing for more.

“Stop teasing me!” you complain, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “I thought the kiss ban was supposed to be fun, but it’s just torture.”

“Isn’t that the point?” he counters, his voice low and playful. His fingers trail along your bare skin, igniting tiny sparks wherever they touch. You shiver at the contact, unable to suppress a soft moan.

“Lando,” you whine, your hands finding their way into his soft hair, pulling him closer as if that might close the distance between your lips.

His breath quickens, and you can see the effect you have on him—his eyes darkening, his focus entirely on you. “Okay, I’ll give you a little something,” he murmurs, lips nibbling at yours, teasing but never fully committing.

You can feel the weight of the moment building, an undeniable tension that thrums through you both.

“More, please,” you plead, leaning into him. “You can’t just do this and not follow through.”

He chuckles, and the sound sends a thrill down your spine. “And what if I don’t want to? What if I want to see just how far I can push you?” His teasing words only heighten the desire coursing through you.

“Is that really what you want?” you ask, biting your lip. “To make me crazy?”

“Absolutely,” he says, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’re far too serious sometimes. This is just a bit of fun, love.”

“Fun? This is more like torture,” you respond, rolling your eyes playfully but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your lips.

“Ah, but isn’t it thrilling? The way you’re practically trembling for me right now? I could get used to this,” he replies, leaning in just enough to brush his lips against yours once more.

Your heart races, and you let out a soft moan, eyes fluttering shut as you lean into the touch. You want more—need more. “Lando,” you breathe, feeling utterly exposed yet exhilarated. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he replies, his voice a low whisper as he continues to tease you, brushing his lips against your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw. “But you love it.”

“Maybe I do,” you admit, arching your neck, giving him more access as you melt against the wall. Your skin tingles where he touches you, and every brush of his lips sends shivers racing through you.

He pulls back slightly, his breath mingling with yours, and the moment feels electric. “I love how you crave me, how you can’t get enough,” he says, his gaze intense, searching yours for the truth in your confession.

“Lando…” you whisper, unable to contain the longing in your voice.

���Shh,” he hushes, finally closing the distance and kissing you deeply. The world melts away once more, and you lose yourself in the warmth and passion of his lips.

His hands move to your back, holding you tightly as you both surrender to the kiss, hearts racing, breath mingling, bodies pressing together in the warmth of the moment. . . .

[lucky13cat]

Mel gets a boyfriend in the time jump between Season 1 and 2, and she just doesn't mention it to Langdon. He's going through a lot what with the rehab and separating from his wife, and she reasons, because she's very sweet and occasionally too logical, that talking about romantic relationships could be stressful for him. He's been struggling a lot what with Robby being on his case 24/7 plus all of the mandatory drug screenings he's been doing then the divorce is taking forever. So she just locks that down. Doesn't talk about him at all to Langdon or around the ER. Because she doesn't want to upset Langdon.

Right.

Then Fourth of July rolls around, and of course her and Langdon are working the night shift with the rest of the crew. It's hectic. Mel is running around constantly busy, but she still manages to share a patient or two with Langdon. They even do a STEMI together ❤️ all while Totally Not Flirting with each other because Langdon is going through a divorce and Mel is in a relationship (though really only she knows that).

Boyfriend comes into the ER with some burn he got helping neighborhood kids set up a fireworks display. Langdon grabs the case obviously oblivious to who Boyfriend really is. While Langdon is busy with Boyfriend's burn, Mel comes in to update Langdon on some test results from one of their shared patients.

Cue Reveal of the Century.

Boyfriend calls out her name happily, and Mel starts to worry over him, running over asking all sorts of questions. Langdon's sitting there wondering what the hell is happening. A crowd of busybodies starts forming who are Totally Not eavesdropping.

Langdon interrupts, very "sorry excuse me, who are you? To her? How do you know each other?" to which Boyfriend replies "Oh I'm Melissa's boyfriend! You're Frank? She's told me so much about you!" that has everyone all a flutter cause holy shit Langdon hasn't been subtle that he likes Mel and Mel hasn't been subtle either (or so everyone thought)! Langdon just bluescreens. (And OF COURSE Boyfriend calls her Melissa!)

Dana, in the background, turns to Perlah and Princess, ordering them to go bar the door to the roof.

Their shift goes on. Langdon is forced to keep checking on Boyfriend because Medical Reasons, and Mel asks him a few questions about Boyfriend's treatment. He's off step now entirely, totally out of sync, completely unsure why as well. (He knows why, he's just not letting himself admit it.)

Then a severe case comes in that requires quite a few hands on deck. Lots of nurses as well as Langdon, Mel, and Santos with Robby and Collins checking in.

Santos, of course, being Santos cracks some joke basically asking if Boyfriend's good in bed because she'd heard all about Mel' surprise partner showing up. Mel being Mel answers her without giving too many NSFW details that basically clue everyone in on the fact that Mel has been getting some on the reg. Robby and Collins share a Look. Langdon is there the entire time silently going through every stage of grief and then some before landing on Jealousy that Totally Isn't Jealousy. He then takes a break, smokes a cigarette trying not to have a total breakdown when Robby comes by and screws up a how are you doing convo.

Dana asks for someone to be stationed at the roof access door.

More things happen, Boyfriend witnesses Mel and Langdon being Mel and Langdon. Gets lowkey jealous and asks if there's anything between the two. Doesn't really believe her when she says no.

Eventually (and before the inevitable accident that shuts down the Pitt) Langdon breaks. He and Mel are alone talking about something, anything. It gets passionate and both are smiling and much too close. And they kiss. Very 'neither knows who actually initiated it' but both immediately feel guilty. Both of them try to apologize, words overlapping. Then the moment breaks because there's been some major accident that's sending a truckload of victims in need of help to the Pitt.

Do they have a lot of quick glances at each other during the chaos? Yes. Does Langdon force an irate and aggressive patient away from her? Also yes. Do they work seamlessly together? Obviously.

At the end of the shift, both search for the other because they know they need to discuss the kiss. They find each other, both sweaty and a little bloody. Somehow, they end up almost kissing again only for Boyfriend to interrupt them.

[ericscroptop]

Kitchen

✧ pairing: bf! san x mid or plus-size/clubby gf! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, unprotected sex (it’s inevitable atp), doggy style, creampie, size kink, body worship, cursing, praising, pet names, kissing, san is down right bad for you

✦ word count: 3.0k words

✧ synopsis: scrambled eggs? what about fertilized eggs, instead?

.ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･

Bacon sizzled as it cooked over the stove, emitting a salivating, savory-smoky aroma into the air.

You cooked it cautiously, maintaining a friendly distance away from the pan as the bacon grease was so volatile with the popping. A sour expression filled your face, fearful and anxious that the grease would splatter across you.

Whoever coined the phrase ‘women belong in the kitchen,’ is seriously wrong as hell.

An unease sat with you while you finished up, wanting to avoid burning yourself or getting attacked by the grease. You yelped as you flipped the strips, your hesitant hands using tongs to do so. Hopefully it’ll get as crispy as you liked within the next minute or so.

As if on cue, when you decide to plate your bacon and turn off the stove, San walks into the kitchen, making his presence known with a whistle and pleased hum.

“You making breakfast?” he folds his arms, idly standing a couple feet away from you like he’s observing the view you grace him with.

“I made breakfast. Come get it while it’s hot.” you took a quick glance at him, causing a flutter in your chest (and possibly even your lower region) when you see how he looks.

He decided to have an early morning workout instead of his usual nightly one, following it up with a shower. In the mean time, the motivation he had inspired you to get up and cook a nice breakfast instead of staying dozed off and drooling in bed.

The drooling might not be able to be prevented though, as you’re trying to keep your mouth from gaping at the sight of San’s Godly-being.

Although you’ve seen him shirtless countless of times— to the point where you don’t even think he’s aware that he owns clothes, it still makes you grow warm in the cheeks, mind threatening to have you replay memories with him that couldn’t possibly be shared with anyone else.

His broad shoulders stood out immensely, chest puffed out proud and muscles extra swole and prominent. The dampness of his hair post-shower further elevated his look, appearing straight out of a shampoo commercial.

San’s attractiveness overwhelmed your senses, short circuiting your focus. You had to snap yourself out of the fuzzy feelings he gave you just from a simple glance and from the sight of his toned, ripped body. Especially when that body had you caged under the covers just last night.

You quickly switched your attention back to arranging the bacon with the scrambled eggs, toast, and various berries you already platted.

“How was your work out and shower?” you cleared your throat, moving on from your gawking and dizzying thoughts.

San shuffled closer to you, leaning his lips over to press against your cheek while simultaneously sneaking a strip of bacon from one of the plates.

“Good.” he mumbles while chewing, humming and savoring the flavor of the pork before continuing on. “I hit chest today. Can you tell?” both of his arms are lifted out and upwards, flexing his biceps tightly.

He stands proudly, those damn biceps bulging out from his honey skin, proving that all of that time he spends with the gym equipment paid off.

His wide shoulders contrasted from his small waist, upper body deliciously intimidating yet comforting. His toned and muscular physique gave you a sense of tranquility knowing that he could protect you, but it also reminded you of the great stamina he possessed, especially during intimate hours.

And the fact that he had the power to manhandle you, having the backbone and robustness to handle the weight you carried. He always did it so effortlessly. Even with the excess fat you carried, he always made you feel so petite and delicate. It turned you on to the max and had you fuzzy all over at his ability to make you seem so small and like putty within his hold.

Naturally, you scoffed at him showing off. While your body screamed for him otherwise, you playfully shoved one of his flexing arms down, pushing past the mountain of a man as you ignore his efforts.

“What do you want to drink?” you asked casually, opening your refrigerator and scanning through the options.

“Chocolate milk.” he smiles through his words, tickled grin plastered over him as he watches you prepare the drink for him, grabbing the jug of milk from the fridge and getting a glass from the respective cabinet.

It’s always funny seeing you attempt at brushing off his flirting. Whether it be for not wanting to inflate his ego or merely because you didn’t know how to react out of timidness. It just charmed him even more, drawing him to get under your skin until you fully acknowledge him.

By now you’ve already started a completely new conversation, something casual that consisted of nothing too interesting. San mindlessly responded to you and offered words, but he really was only paying full attention towards your figure as you moved in the kitchen.

A flimsy pajama set clothed your body— well… at least tried to.

Despite the cutesy pattern that decorated the fabric of the sleepwear, it still managed to look sexy over your body. It was anything but innocent.

Such lightweight material was so skimpy on you. And because of your curves and body type, the clothing seemed to be extra small and barely doing anything to hide your full-figured frame.

Your bottoms consisted of shorts. Shorts that would hike up occasionally from your movements, your ass cheeks peeking out as a result.

The tank top you’re wearing also provoked him. It was one of those tops that had your mounds slipping out during your slumber and feeling a breeze once you awakened. The type of top that would end up bunched under your boobs, the material too lightweight and breasts too fleshy to stay put.

They bounced with every movement you made, as if trying to call to him. Like they’re begging to bust out the lousy, thin fabric, tantalizing him through your cleavage, hanging the way that they do and with the way you’d constantly adjust your top so they’d stay in place.

Your body moved gorgeously as you roamed the kitchen. The motion of your flesh and skin stole his attention, compelled to rake over your form while his mind drives through thoughts filled with perverted, pornographic images of things he’d like to do with you.

That sleepwear left plenty of room for imagination with how little it covered. His horny thoughts persisted even though he hummed and nodded along to words you were saying.

He was so good at multi tasking. Listening to you ramble about how cooking was not your forte with how the grease and pan came close to burning your delicate skin a handful of times.

As he cooed at you and offered you a look of pity, his hands were suddenly wrapped around your figure. His front was pressed up firmly against your backside, hugging your figure with so much greed and need.

Always so touchy, you think to yourself.

A smile stretches your lips, unable to contain the giddiness you feel when San holds you. His clingy behavior for being a grown man is amusing to watch, swelling your pride.

“Go sit down— i’ll be over there in a sec.” you giggled, trying to clean up the counter a bit before sitting down to finally enjoy your morning meal.

Your boyfriend chooses to not listen however, his chin lowered and planted into one of your shoulders, as if he’s trying to get comfortable and bury his face into your neck.

Simultaneously, his hands decide to search for warmth underneath your flowy tank, massaging the fat of your tummy. You quake from his sneaky touches, unable to fight off his hold.

“Babe!” you nagged, groaning when he playfully pinches at your love handles, almost in a possessive way.

“Why are so obsessed in doing that?” you sighed, letting his hands roam all over and paw at your belly.

You’ve grown accustomed to San playing with your excess skin and showing your body love through his sweet rubs and grabs. At first it felt embarrassing, but you eventually accepted that you were like a stress ball of some sort to him. This was not only his way of gaining comfort, but to also appreciate your ample body.

“‘Cause you’re so soft and tempting.” he breathes out before pressing his lips into the skin of your neck.

The compliment and plushy pecks spark warmth down south. Ultimately, the feeling of his soft lips caressing a sensitive spot and his strong embrace gave you no urgency or strength to fight.

“My girl is so beautiful. You know that? Hm.” he mumbles in between kisses and becomes extra playful with that mouth, fine bites felt in the midst of it all, making you airily moan at the feeling of his teeth mixed in.

“Mhm, you get me so horny, princess.” suddenly, his thumbs have found their way sneakily under your shorts and panties, playing with the waistband of them. That pulls more needy sounds out from you, along with subtle but noticeable buttings of your ass back into his crotch, turned on the more he continues with his antics.

“Sannie…” you squeaked, voice high and airy, sweetened with need for him to plunge your swelling hole.

He knows just by the way you call his name cutely and desperately that you’re begging for him to take you right here with no more delay.

It’s incredible how fast he can flip the switch in your brain, especially this early in the morning. But honestly, you were just as big of a feen for him as he was for you.

Breakfast was now the last thing on your minds right now. San directed his focus to pulling down your sleep shorts. You allow him to do so, body burning with desire as you step out of them and he flings them to the side.

The fat of your ass cheeks is exposed, the tiny thong you wear sucked in by your lady bits.

A low grown rumbles from your boyfriend when you tantalizingly throw your ass back at him, jiggling cheeks butting repeatedly at his growing bulge, far from innocent giggles leaving your mouth while you move.

Your behavior evokes him to give a good slap to your ass, making you gasp and cease your movements immediately.

“Baby wants to be fucked, hm?” he sneers, palms circling where he just smacked you soothingly, then working to remove your panties.

In a jiffy he removes that drenched thong of yours, flinging it lazily to the side with his foot once you’ve stepped out of it.

He finally pulls off his own bottoms with swift movement. Unable to resist going a second without touching you in doing so, he manages to press kisses into your lower back, savoring how your bare body stands graciously in his presence.

With his cock gripped in his dominant hand, his breath is already shaky just by going in and manhandling you to spread your legs. Once apart, he guides his cock over your sex, tickling your tensed hole by wagging his cock upwards and slapping it against you a few times.

The sensation makes you shudder, needy as ever and clenching over nothing, his cock so close to your spot but clearly not in yet. He’s teasing you back, your pussy painfully pulsing as he rubs his length against your moist folds.

“Sannie, please…” you’re desperate, gnawing on your lower lip and gripping the counter while he does a few more agonizing drags over your entire sex.

With a chuckle and hefty sigh, he listens to your begging and slots his leaking tip up your hole, him grunting and you yelping at the feeling. It never got old.

“Mhm… That’s it, princess. Shhh, take it all.” he cooed, eventually stuffing his entire length into your fluttering hole that gripped all of him ardently. He licks his lips and softly groans at that, in disbelief that no matter how many times he fucked you, you still remained as tight as the first time he was let in.

His hands attached to your hips, holding you tight as he begins to plow his manhood in and out of your hungry hole.

All you can do is try to catch your breath once he begins a steady pace. You quickly become struck and stupefied by his cock stroking your hot, gummy walls, palms sweaty as you do your best in holding onto the counter through every thrust.

Your body moves like water thanks to his insatiable efforts. The fat on your body jiggles like crazy, from your breasts, to your thighs, to your stomach. San’s grip on your hips loosens as he travels his hands to your love handles, kneading them with so much admiration, practically growling at how sexy your naked body feels.

He even ensures to make his rounds on your tummy, using a hand to hold onto your stomach pudge, keeping you closely against him while he fucks into you.

His cock caresses your walls, mingling with and lathering in your wetness that sops out your cunt during his out strokes, creating sounds that only quench his thirst for more.

One of his hands lands on your lower back, pressing gently for you to get the hint to lean forward. You comply, resting your upper body over the tabletop, ass more up in the air.

After a couple plunges into you like this, a sudden lusty, long moan spurts from you, an indicator that he’s located your sweet spot. He laughs airily knowing that he’s found your prized point.

“Fuckkkk, yes Sannie!” your throat rumbled, breath and any articulacy knocked right out of you.

The new angle allowed his cock to hit you deeper, your pussy eating up his meat and soaking every inch of it, hugging his length as he grants you divine sensations.

“So good for me.” he rasps, hitting your swollen cunt repeatedly, his fingertips sinking into the flesh of your hips as he chases for more feelings of ecstasy.

The indescribable pleasure lingers, growing gradually and never faltering. The moment is such a rush; Your back is arched like a cat, nails scratching the countertop while you’re trying to ground yourself from the feeling of your pussy getting stretched and the dizzying, addictive feeling as a result.

It’s disgustingly irresistible. His velvety, firm cock knocks your spongey spot, hitting you over and over again. Taking you in the kitchen isn’t anything new, as you two have practically christened ever inch of your home.

In the midst of being wound up like crazy, you turn your head back, mouth open as you pant heavily from getting your back blown out. San’s frenzied rams into you have slicked his skin with sweat, the exertion present on his face.

Through gritted teeth as he continues abusing your hole, you each lock eyes for a couple seconds.

Your face was wrecked with wide, heavy eyes full of lust, weak cries leaving your parted lips. He groans darkly when you look at him all disheveled and like you’re struggling to keep up, but still longing for more.

His soul feels captured and snatched by your eyes while you stare at him. You consume his entire being, craving you even though he’s already buried deep inside your pussy.

“So fucking pretty, God.” he utters breathlessly, bewitched by everything you possess. He’s the one working on tirelessly ramming into you until climax, but you’re the one who’s really doing all the work, your silky sex and body pulling the strings on him like a marionette.

Whipping your head back around, a hand of yours slides down towards your brutally-aching clit, beginning to rub yourself lazily.

Your jaw is slack, mouth wide and dry from how everything is hitting you all at once: San’s bulky body fucks you with all the stamina in the world on this kitchen counter. Grunts and sinful moans from each other joining in chorus. Naked bodies pressed together and moving in vulgarity. And touching your puffy bud in the midst of getting stretched by his golden manhood.

And then, you spill. You spill all over his cock, fluids and cum smothering his entire length while your whole body convulses, sweet pleasure hitting you like a truck.

You cry out as your orgasm crashes your body, mind, nerves, and limbs, falling apart from the overwhelming but joyous burst. All while San is still pushing into you, lowly moaning and coaxing you through his ragged breaths.

Your release pushes him to drive his cock harder, sweating profusely as he does so, your juices eventually being enough to form a white ring around his length, making him throb inside of you at the sight.

Weak whimpers and squeaks leave your mouth from the growing overstimulation, pussy so sore from the friction and your break. You push through while seeing stars, biting down on your lowed lip with dazed eyes drawn shut.

San allows himself to drape himself onto your back, his toned, broad body burning hot against your own soft, plush one. Pants and deep groans of his resonate by your ear, hearing him start to come undone.

You swear you expel more fluids as his hips are stuttering and jerking into you, his animalistic noises and mumbles of breathy words striking straight to your core, squeezing his cock dry.

Spurts of his cum fill you up. His body spasms over yours as he lets go, mind and body blissed-out as he lazily kisses your bare shoulder.

“So good. So perfect, princess.” he utters dreamily, reaching a hand up to stroke your hair, time feeling frozen as your eyes struggle to stay open. You can barely even sense the dripping of cum out your sex, dopey and drowsy— especially with San’s warm body against yours.

You can’t say the same for the breakfast you made though, now past cold. Forgotten, but your appetites have been satisfied nonetheless.

At least until San’s cock starts hardening again.

Or until someone’s belly starts to growl.

.ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･ .ೃ࿔☼*:･

[fayelero]

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of your shared apartment with Atsumu, casting a warm glow across the hardwood floors. You had just returned from your morning run when you noticed a sleek black package sitting innocently by your door. The distinct white Chanel logo made your heart skip a beat.

"No way..." you muttered, picking up the package with trembling hands. Just last week, you had casually mentioned how beautiful that new Chanel collection was while window shopping with Atsumu. You specifically remembered telling him, "It's gorgeous, but please don't even think about it. I'm happy with my regular bags!"

But as you opened the package, there it was – the exact same black leather bag you had been admiring, complete with its iconic chain strap and quilted pattern. Your jaw dropped at its beauty, but immediately after came the familiar exasperation.

"ATSUMU MIYA!" Your voice echoed through the apartment.

You heard shuffling from the bedroom, and soon enough, your boyfriend appeared in the hallway, wearing his MSBY Black Jackals training shorts and a plain white t-shirt. His blonde hair was still slightly messy from sleep, but there was a telling glimmer in his eyes that he was trying hard to suppress.

"Mornin', what's with all the yellin'?" he asked innocently, leaning against the wall with that signature smirk of his.

You held up the bag, your eyes narrowing. "Care to explain this?"

"What? That's a nice bag ya got there. Secret admirer?" He scratched his head, playing dumb, but the slight pink tinge on his ears gave him away.

"Atsumu," you said firmly, though you couldn't help but feel your heart warm at his thoughtfulness, "who else would send me a Chanel bag?"

"Maybe it was Bokun? Ya know how he gets when he's shoppin' for Keiji-kun, might've got carried away and bought ya somethin' too!" His explanation was so ridiculous that you couldn't help but laugh.

"Bokuto-san, who panicked last week because he accidentally bought premium rice instead of regular rice, bought me a Chanel bag?"

Atsumu's facade cracked as he let out a chuckle. "Okay, okay, ya caught me." He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "But before ya lecture me about spendin' money, just hear me out."

You sighed, letting your head rest against his chest. "Tsum, we've talked about this. You don't need to buy me expensive things."

"I know," he said softly, his Kansai accent thickening with emotion. "But ya work so hard, and ya never ask for anythin'. Ya even pack my lunches for away games and come to every match ya can. Let me spoil ya a little bit?"

"But—"

"Plus," he interrupted with a playful grin, "ya should see yer face whenever we pass by that store. Yer eyes light up like when ya watch me serve an ace."

You couldn't help but blush. "That's different! Your serves are actually impressive."

"And my girlfriend deservin' nice things ain't impressive enough reason?" He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I got money to spend, and I wanna spend it on the love of my life. Sue me."

You looked down at the bag, running your fingers over the smooth leather. "It is beautiful," you admitted reluctantly.

"Just like ya," he said, and even though it was cheesy, your heart fluttered. "Now, are ya gonna model it for me or what? Gotta make sure my investment was worth it," he teased.

You playfully swatted his arm but couldn't hide your smile. "Fine, but this is the last time, okay? No more surprise luxury gifts."

"Sure, sure," he agreed too quickly, making you suspicious.

"Atsumu..."

"What? I didn't say anythin'!" He raised his hands in surrender, but you could see him already planning his next surprise in those mischievous brown eyes of his.

"You're impossible," you sighed, but reached up to kiss him anyway. "Thank you for the bag. I love it... and I love you."

His resulting smile was brighter than any designer purchase could ever be. "Love ya too, even when yer yellin' my name through the apartment."

"Only because you deserve it!"

"Worth it," he grinned, pulling you closer. "Every single time."

Ⓒkiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[tbaluver]

kiss me under the mistletoe- the love and deepspace men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader genre: fluff fluff summary: spend the holidays by his side and share a kiss(es) under the mistletoe a/n: ty @ilovemitsuya for making me with the lads christmas dividers (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) and ty @ilovemitsuya and @deusfoundry for beta reading ! (ง ˃ ³ ˂)ว ⁼³₌₃⁼³

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

“hmm?” his eyes flicker to the cluster of red berries on the christmas tree. he reaches his arm out and plucks it out of the christmas tree, examining it. “is this edible?”

you turn around after you finish tucking in the last flower in the tree and your gaze falls on xavier, who’s sniffing the mistletoe you carefully placed at the top of the tree.

you chuckle softly and gently take it from his hands. “no honey,” tucking back the mistletoe back into its rightful spot above you both. “it’s a mistletoe.”

you lost him there. xavier tilts his head, his brows furrowed in confusion. “mistle....toe?”

a smile tugs at your lips, christmas was completely new to him. you can’t help but step closer, standing on your tiptoes to brush a soft kiss on his lips right below the mistletoe. “when you stand below the mistletoe, you kiss someone next to you.”

xavier blinks, his expression shifting from confusion to realization with a smile now tugging on his lips. “ah i see,” he steps closer, his hands finding their way to your cheeks to pull you into a deeper kiss, melting into him.

however it seems xavier didn’t actually seem to actually understand. the next day as you two walk outside, xavier suddenly pulls you under a tree. he points up to a bunch of random red berries hanging from a branch above you both. “mistletoe.” you blink in confusion but before you can say anything, he pulls you in for a kiss, his lips warm against yours. and it happens again and again. he simply loves the idea of kissing you, no matter wherever you both are. you could correct him and point out the difference but you also love the idea of sharing a kiss with him whenever or wherever.

Zayne:

zayne attempts to celebrate christmas. with parents who were renowned doctors and himself a surgeon, their schedules barely rarely lined up which never made it easy. to him, christmas didn’t feel like christmas at all. he works tirelessly in the operating room, creating his own miracles that day as he performs surgeries. more often he found himself spending the holidays alone, drinking hot cocoa ( with an insane amount of sugar ) while he read ahead on patient reports.

but deep down he knew something was missing and you managed to solve it for him and fill that missing void.

after many years, his old dusty christmas tree was pulled out from his storage and has finally been decorated in all its festive glory as you two carefully hung ornaments and placed finishing touches that made it feel more personal for the two of you.

the sweet delicious smell of the baked cookies fills the air as he carefully pulls them out of the oven. he begins to prepare the hot cocoa he makes every year, this time with a special plus one. he made sure to get the matching snowmen mugs that he knows you’ll love when he brings them out.

meanwhile as you gently place the gifts you wrapped for each other under the christmas tree, a playful idea sparks in your head. 

he hears your soft footsteps get closer as he preps the ingredients. “do you want any sugar in yours?” he asks, adding two spoonfuls of sugar to his cup and proceeding to add an extra spoonful to make it more sweet.

your heart flutters with excitement and your lips curl into a grin as you hold up a mistletoe above your heads. “another holiday tradition ,” rising up on your tiptoes as you lean in to plant a gentle kiss on his lips.

zayne’s lips curl into a small smile as you pull away. “do i really need a plant to get permission to kiss you this holiday?” he asks, shaking his head. he pulls you in closer, his hand guiding your jaw to draw you into a deep and sweet kiss.

Rafayel:

humans are weird. chopping and dragging a perfectly happy tree into their homes and proceeding to adorn it with glittery things. rafayel never understood the appeal, that is until he met you.

he completely changes his mind about the entire holiday once he realizes that he gets to spend with you if you two celebrated the holiday together. so from this moment on, he declares that this year and every single year shall be spent together. maybe humans were on to something afterall..

a tradition that quickly became his favorite was holiday crafting with you. spending hours of creating your homemade ornaments and bursting with inside jokes as soft christmas music played in the background.

you two would dig up any embarrassing photos of each other to hang on the christmas tree. as you both carefully placed your last ornaments on the tree, a certain plant that you had purposely placed had caught your attention once again. and just below it was the perfect target.

as he continues going on about how silly you looked in the picture, you stepped closer to him, cutting him off mid-sentence and placing a soft quick kiss to his lips.

for a second you caught him completely off guard but his surprise melted into a sly smirk. “oh? someone feeling jolly or whatever the humans call it?” he teases, slightly leaning in more closer to you.

you giggle, pointing up to the mistletoe hanging directly above the both of you. “it’s a tradition,” you boop his nose. “you have to kiss someone when there’s a mistletoe above you.”

and just like that, christmas became rafayel’s favorite holiday.

the next morning as you both woke up, you woke up to something quite unexpected. it seems your lover was busy while you were asleep because every entry way of his studio and ceilings were decorated with mistletoes.

with a mischievous grin, he raises a brow. “guess you’re gonna have to kiss mee,” he teases while crossing his arms, “it’s a holiday tradition after all.” as you stood right below a mistletoe, his perfect and only target.

Sylus:

sylus had never celebrated the holidays, ever. growing up it was just another day of surviving and now it was just another day to him. he never wrapped or given the perfect gifts for loved ones during this time until he met you.

the moment he saw the joy and excitement in your eyes as you talked about doing Christmas traditions with him, something inside him shifted. he couldn’t ignore how much it meant to you and who was he to deny you the chance to celebrate? he wanted to make this season special for you this year and every year.

giving it a chance, he transformed his home with you. every corner and every entry way of his home was decked out with some type of christmas spirit.

sylus bought a massive tree, one that’s slightly more taller as he was and with the perfect intention in mind. he wanted to lift you up so you could place the start on the top once it was fully decorated. the tree was wrapped in red and gold ornaments that you recommended would suit his taste and finished off with luxurious ribbons around it.

it was worth it. seeing the way your eyes sparkled and how wide your smile got made everything worth it. he finally understood there was more then just gift giving. it was spending time with someone you truly loved.

with a final tuck of the ribbon on the tree, sylus turns around, his eyes locking onto yours. you clear your throat softly, earning a raised brow from him in amusement as you step even closer. your fingers gently tug his shirt, signalling him to lean down to your level. without hesitation, he leans down slightly, his warm breath fans against your skin as  you press a soft and lingering kiss to his lips.

his eyes flutter open slowly, his lips curling into a smirk. “a reward sweetie?” 

you shake your head, a playful smile tugs at your lips as you point upward to the mistletoe you carefully placed above the tree. “it’s a tradition to kiss someone under the mistletoe sy,”

he lets out a breathy chuckle, his gaze flickering between you and the mistletoe. “well technically you’re under the mistletoe..” he teases, his height barely grazing the plant. “but,” he leans back down to your level again, his lips capturing yours in a deeper and more passionate kiss.

“is there a rule for how many times i can kiss you under the mistletoe?” he whispers against your lips.

[vnpyy]

is it still me that makes you sweat?

nerd! armin x reader (nsfw)

tags: college au, f/m, tongue piercing, semi-public sex, oral fixation library sex, edging, nipple piercing, dry humping, virgin, smut with plot, dirty talk, nipple play, making out, soft dom/sub, 18+, whimpering

The fall semester is nearing its end, and the only thing you’ve been up to is finals, of course. However, there’s somebody else who has piqued your interest lately at the library where you’ve been studying…

Armin Arlert, the library assistant at your college.

Every time you pop into the library for a long study session alone, you constantly manage to grab his attention.

Maybe it’s because of how put-together you always are? Or how good you look in those tiny skirts you wear from time to time?

You’ve had many interactions with him: when you need help finding a book on the subject you’re learning about, or with a question you’re struggling with, somehow he’s always there whenever you need him. You find it cute. Even though he seems somewhat reserved whenever he’s around you. Then again, both of you are somewhat strangers to other. Sometimes you wish it could be more than that…

──────────────────────

“I need to stop procrastinating and finish this damn essay for psych,” you said, heaving a sigh.

“Why don’t you head over to the library instead of staying in the dorm with me and Sasha?" Mikasa offers as she cleans up around the dorm you share. “Plus, once you’re done, we can all have movie night together! I’m dying to have one again,” Sasha chimes in, agreeing with Mikasa.

“Yeah, you’re right. I was thinking about going out in a bit. I just wanna get ready before I go,” you say as you slowly head to the bathroom to touch up your makeup and find a cute outfit to put on.

“Getting ready for the library, I see? Is there somebody specific you’re hoping to see hm?” Mikasa giggles, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of you.

“Maybe y/n is going to pay Armin a little visit,” Sasha teases, giggling with Mikasa.

You froze for a second, thinking about how you’ve been caught…

“How do you guys know me so well,” you sighed in disbelief. Mikasa and Sasha always know when you’re up to something. Maybe Armin has mentioned you when they all hang out… I mean, they’ve all been good friends for years. I’m sure you get brought up from time to time..

“Well, don’t go doing anything stupid. You need to get your finals done, deadlines are approaching way too fast,” Mikasa scolds you a bit for not being on track with your academics.

“I know, I know. I will,” you sigh loudly enough for everyone to hear. You finished getting ready to head out, slinging your tote bag over your shoulder. “I’m gonna head out now, see you later, guys. I’ll send a text in the group chat if I’m coming back late.” Mikasa nods, and Sasha blows you a kiss goodbye, wishing you well on your studies as you hurry out the door.

You finally made it to the library after you grabbed a coffee and a sweet treat, so you’re motivated enough to write your essay.

As you approach the building, you’re eager to see if the blondie is on his shift. Maybe he’s just as eager to see you, too? You shrug away the thought as you enter the building through those heavy wooden doors.

Finally, you enter the library, inhaling the smell of still air and old books. You take the elevator to go to on 5th floor of the library.

…

*ding* you’re here

Stepping out of the elevator, you sigh in relief at how very few people are on this floor. You walk around, looking at shelves upon shelves of books as you look for a secluded place to do your work.

While looking for a spot, you suddenly catch a glimpse of the very person you hoped to see.

His beautiful blonde hair was hard to miss; those sweet blue eyes that make your heart flutter every time he stares at you a little too long, glasses that slide down his nose when he looks down at you. There was no doubt about it. He was already staring at you the moment he noticed you were here.

He smiled when he saw you, waving slightly. Both of you make quick but heavy eye contact with one another. Before you could break eye contact with him, he says, “Let me know if you need help with anything. I’ll be happy to help.” You blush at his kindness but quickly nod and thank him as he goes back to stacking books up on the shelf.

You continue walking and find a seat close enough to be able find him if you needed to. You set everything down on the table, sipping your cup of coffee and resting a bit before you started working. Eventually, you pull out your laptop and notebooks, getting comfortable and ready to start working when you realize, “shit… I forgot my textbook.” You suddenly recall that you left it on your desk in your bedroom, frustrated at the thought since you need it to write your psych essay.

Maybe Armin can help me… You smile at the thought of him helping you out. Eager to find him, you slowly get up, pulling yourself together while you make your way through the narrow walls of bookshelves, hoping to find him, and you eventually do. You find him near the back; the walls of bookshelves tower over both of you.

There he is…You found him organizing more stacks of books, immersed in his own world.

Before approaching him, you stop to admire him..

You don’t know why, but there’s just something about him that you can’t seem to resist, like a moth attracted to the light. You continue walking closer to him.

“Hey Armin, is there any way you guys happen to have this psych textbook? I desperately need it for my essay that’s due on Friday,” you asked.

He startles and quickly turns to you, immediately recognizing your voice. “Uh- y-yeah, yeah! I definitely have it. What was the name of the textbook again?” he stutters, eyes lowered while trying not to make too much eye contact with you. You quickly tell him the name of the book you’re looking for.

"I believe it should be around here… you can follow me,” he says as you continue to thank him for helping you out, which managed to crack a cute smile from him. “The book should be here somewhere…” He ran his slender fingers along the spines of each book he looked through. At last, he does find it and hands it over to you, giving you a small smile. Before you can say anything, he suddenly decides to asks you something.

“By the way, your name is y/n right? Sorry I know that was out of the blue,” he quickly looks down at his feet out of nervousness, hoping you don’t notice. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of him saying your name. After all, you do have mutual friends, yet you’re intrigued who told him about you...

“Yeah it is. Who told you that?” you shoot him a snarky grin as he stammers to explain himself. “Eren actually told me since you dorm with his girlfriend Mikasa. We’re all pretty close friends and I’ve always seen you around a lot, so I just wanted to know…”he starts rambling in an attempt to reassure you so he doesn’t come off as a perv somehow.

You giggle at what he says. Seeing just how flushed he gets when he talks to you, you can’t help but want to tease him more. “Honestly I wanted to get to know you too. I mean… I see the way you stare at me,” you say as you slowly move closer to him.

He realizes what you’re doing and clenches his jaw as he looks you up and down. You see the way his eyes drop down directly at your chest for a moment, lingering before they snap back up to your face. Can you blame him though? You were wearing a low-cut long sleeve top, with no bra underneath as your nipple piercings peaked through your tight fitting top.

He can’t help the fact that his dick twitches at the thought of being this close to you. The air suddenly feels thick and heavy around you, and he’s trying so hard to keep his composure but the way you look at him makes it all that more difficult… you want him and he knows that.

You can’t help but be a bit bold. “Would you want my number? I think you can get good use out of it, no?” you hummed to yourself. He was not expecting that… He looks dumbfounded at what you said, feeling flabbergasted at how blunt you are. He slowly nods his head, not knowing what to say he blurts out, “y-yeah of course.” He shakily hands you his phone. Putting your digits in, you swiftly hand the phone back to him. His fingers accidentally brushed against yours.

You both don’t say anything for a while; just taking each other in for a moment. The tension between you is unbearable. Armin stands there stiff as wood, trying to figure out what to say to you next, but you quickly say something first to break the silence.

“Well I really should get back to my work. Maybe you can find me again once your shift is over?” you grin, waiting for his response.

“Yeah I get off in about an hour so maybe you can use some help, i-if you would like that. I believe I’ve taken the class before too,” he says while trying to keep his cool. Knowing me, I need all the help I can get. You sigh in relief, nodding at his offer.

“Thenn I’ll see you later okay?” winking at him as you slowly turn and walk back to your seat.

“Fuck me…”Armin mumbles lowly under his breath while watching you walk away, getting a good look at the tiny black miniskirt you happen to be wearing. He can’t help but wonder if you’re the slutty type or if you wear a thong underneath your skirts… Pervert. He shrugs his dirty thoughts away and goes back to his work.

You return to where you left your stuff. Finally, you take a seat, trying to concentrate on your essay, but you can’t seem to get him off your mind. I wonder if he’ll actually help me, you think to yourself as you work on your essay.

Before you realize it, two hours have gone by.

It’s 7:00 pm on the dot, and the 5th floor is completely empty by now. You decide to text the group chat you have with the girls.

You: Guys, I’m still at the library I think I’m gonna be here until it closes, it feels like..

Sasha: Nooo we were hoping you could have dinner with us :((

You: I wish but I have 2 more pages to go babes

Mikasa: I’ll save you a plate so you have dinner to enjoy when you get home <3

Sasha: Aw okay we’ll miss you now go finish that essay !

You: Ily both i’ll catch you guys later :3

As you put your phone away, guess who finally shows up?

It’s Armin, of course. As soon as you see him, you give him a gesture to come over. He notices you as he begins to walk towards you. He’s finally off his shift. In his comfortable clothes, you can’t help but stare at him. He quickly notices, making him nervous as he approaches the seat next to you. Quite bold of him.

“Hey y/n, how’s the essay coming along?” he takes a seat, trying not to make eye contact with you as he starts making himself comfortable, pulling out his laptop and his notes. “I’m telling you this is literally torture. How am I supposed to finish a 6-page essay in two days?” you complained. Felt like the exhaustion from all the stress during finals week has gotten to you.

“It’s doable, but at least I can help you out. Can I take a look?” he asks. You move your laptop so he can see what you’ve written so far, without realizing he gets significantly closer to you to get a better look. You feel his knee bump into yours. That’s when he realizes how close he was to you. “O-oh sorry, am I too close?” he asks, ears turning red from embarrassment. “Get closer if you want,” you say, slightly flustered.

As you say that, he leans slightly closer to you, his body reacting first before his mind does. At this closeness, he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume on your neck. It kinda smells like cherries, he thinks to himself. God, he can’t get enough of you. He wants you on him.

The sexual tension between you two gets stronger; it’s just you and him in the library. Forget your essay. It’s such a perfect time for one of you to make a move on the other. Pausing for a moment, you look up at him. “Armin… have you ever kissed anyone before?”

His breath hitched at your words. “N-no, I actually haven’t done anything like that with anyone before,” he replies. “Really…? Not even a little peck?” you teased him. He quickly shook his head no. All he could focus on was the way you’re looking at him.

“Then… can I be your first?” you ask, failing not to burn up at your own words. He freezes for a moment. “I-I mean.. how can I say no to you?” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. You gently grab his face while staring into his pretty eyes. “Just follow my lead, okay?” you whispered into his ear. He nods. Tilting his head, he’s leaning towards you. Your lips softly brush together, kissing him ever so slowly but desperately. He already lost his composure when you pressed your lips against his. He’s been wanting this for so long.

Armin is a fast learner, though. He’s doing such a good job mirroring your movements to the point where you started wondering if he’d actually done this before… Gaining more confidence, he slowly starts to swirl his tongue around yours, and you feel the slight pressure of his tongue piercing. Oh? It surprised you, the fact that he has one.

Your heart is racing, and you can’t help but crave more. The kiss is getting more intense as he slowly slides his hand onto your thigh, caressing it ever so lightly. You moaned in his mouth, pressing your thighs together from how good he makes you feel. Fuck. If he wasn’t already hard now… he thought, while he breaks apart from the kiss, letting you catch your breath.

He was still grabbing your thigh. “Didn’t expect you to have a tongue piercing,” you said softly as a small smile touched your lips. “Y-yeah.. I kinda forgot to mention that. I hope that wasn’t weird for you.” He swallows hard, throat feeling dry, trying to regain some composure as his hand lets go of your thigh. “No, I enjoyed it. It was really hot,” you murmured slightly, getting close to him again. You put your hand on his chest, gliding it lower and reaching for his crotch. Feeling how hard he is, you gasped quietly.

Armin tilts his head back, letting out a low whine just from your touch. Fuck. He’s so hard it hurts… He clenches his jaw tightly, teeth grinding against each other, thinking about all the things he can do to you while no one’s watching. It’s exactly what he needs to relieve himself. You can’t help but bite your lip, showing him how badly you want it. “You’re such a virgin Armin, it’s cute. Do you want to keep going?” you asked, continuing to palm his erection.

“Yes. Please y/n,” he says as he bites back a moan. With that, you make your move, fixing your bunched-up miniskirt as you slowly get up from your seat. He definitely caught a glimpse of your underwear. “Lace panties? How fitting…” he cooed. Your face turns red at his remark. “You’re such a pervert.” He leans back in his seat, spreading his legs out just a bit. He feels his pants tightening even more at the pretty view in front of him. Armin reaches his hand out for you, and you’re surprised at him taking the lead. You grab his hand, and he’s pulling you straight into his lap.

You’re flustered when he sets you down on top of him, grabbing your waist softly. Immediately feeling his bulge now directly on your cunt, you can’t help but start grinding back and forth on him. Gasps and moans slowly leave your mouth. “You don’t know how badly I’ve been wanting to do this with you,” he whispered. A sudden neediness fills his voice as his hips try to match your pace. He feels how wet you are for him.

Oh fuck. He can cum just by doing this. If you keep going any longer, he might just…

On queue, you slowly stop bucking your hips onto him, almost like you read his mind. “Armin… I don’t want you to cum just yet,” you said coyly. He throws his head back, feeling breathless. “Please, y/n I’ll do anything,” staring at you so desperately with those pretty eyes. “Anything…?” Your adrenaline kicks in a little, continuing the deep eye contact you both make with one another. “You should kiss me slowly down my neck, then you can go from there,” you say in a haze.

“L-like this?” Firmly grabbing your waist, he leans closer, starting to kiss the top of your neck. Not knowing what he’s really doing, he slowly goes lower and lower, nibbling your skin ever so gently, letting out faint moans. “You’re doing so well Armin… you want me to take my top off for you?” you say teasingly as you bite your lip. Without hesitation, he’s already lifting your top off, desperately wanting to see how hot nipple piercings look on you. “Fuck y/n. How do you keep getting hotter,” he murmurs, already grabbing your tits with the cold touch of his hands.

His words send a tingle down your spine as he firmly gropes your chest. Seeing the glare in his eyes you he knows exactly what he wants to do with you. He shudders out a “Can I...?”

Tilting your head, you give him a sweet smirk.

“Go ahead, but... remember what I told you, okay?” He doesn’t even care if you won’t let him cum yet, he just wants to make you feel good..

He exhales, and before you know it, you feel him sinking his mouth in, feeling his tongue piercing glide over your nipple piercing. His tongue circles around it softly as he gropes the other tit.

The feeling makes you quiver, throwing your head back, and blurting out many moans that echo around the library.

Armin realizes how loud both of you have been. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, though..

“If you’re too loud, we might get caught,” he says between heavy breaths. You can’t help but whine in annoyance. “I hope we get caught so everyone can see how desperate you are to get your dick wet,” you say, biting back a moan as you start rolling your cunt over his hard erection again.

He can feel how wet you are against him through the fabric of your underwear. Armin jolts a little as he hears what you said.

“Y/n, please. You’re gonna make me cum and I’m not even inside you..” he whines. Seeing the desperation in his eyes

The way he’s looking at you is mesmerizing, observing his desire for you

You can’t help but give in. How could you not?

You let him know you’re giving in by slowly smirking at him

He starts grabbing onto you waist again moving your hips up and down rubbing against his cock, his pace gets faster and faster

Leaning towards him now kissing him up his neck, slightly biting his collarbone, leaving him all red

Letting desperate whines from his mouth, he breathes out “ Mmph just like that y/n,” he murmured

You remain calm while continuing to kiss him, leaving a few hickey marks on his neck. His groaning is growing louder and more needy

Armin is not lasting another second of this feeling, his vision fading..

“fuck, I can’t— I-I’m almost-” inhaling sharply, bucking your hips down one last time before he releases, he cums fucking hard. His body jolts harshly from the intensity of his orgasm, his hands gripping your hips tightly as a string of moans leaves his mouth. The sight of him like this makes you cry out, reaching your peak. All you can hear is the sounds of your breathing as you come down from your high.

Armin feels his body limp, hair sticks to his forehead from all the sweating. After catching your breath, you feel a wet spot underneath you, realizing you made a mess in his pants and realizing what he just did.

You stop to look back up at him, arching your back lightly as you feel the pool of wetness under you. "armin, did you just cum? I guess you really are a virgin," you tease him.

"Shitt," he says, deeply gasping for air. You lean towards him, putting your head on his chest. As you both try to catch your breath, exhausted, you say, "We should do more of these study sessions. I have a thing or two I can teach you." You giggle, and his face turns red from embarrassment. Soon after you say those words, you both hear an unexpected *ding* from the elevator.

Hearing someone walking inside the building, both of you freeze in place, staring at each other. Remembering you're still in the library, you both realize you aren't alone anymore..

Oh god, if anyone sees you both as a hot mess and you on Armin's lap, both of you are done for. You swiftly hop off his lap, pulling your top back on, fixing your lifted miniskirt. As you do, you finally get a good look at the mess you made all over his pants.

You turn your head away, noticing he was also staring down at his pants.

You sit back down next to him, keeping your composure as he leans back in his chair, wiping the sweat off his forehead, fixing his messy hair, and cleaning off his glasses. You can help but stare, seeing how good he looks after practically ruining him.

"Should we get back to working on your essay?" he whispers, giving u a soft smile.

…

notes: I hope you enjoyed! this is my first time writing something like this so lmk if should more like this

update 6/18: sorry for the long awaited update life has been rough LOLOL but thank you for all the support on my first fic i have a new one in the works stay tuned for more !!

(crossposted on ao3)