#@ life can i take a week off just to write smut? pls? lol

[naughtyjjk]

haven't had much time to write recently but i hope to make at least one... one post for kinktober

[cl3fairyyy]

hide and seek || edward nashton / the riddler x fem reader (nsfw !) ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

summary || your sex life recently with edward has been non existent. with him being so focused on his plans for gotham, you have found your needs being neglected. you decide to take initiative and plan a fun game for edward while he's at work.

warnings || SMUT!! there is plot but this is pretty much straight up porn lol. reader and edward role-play a kidnapping scenario but everything is consensual!! slapping, restraints, degradation, light knife play, overstimulation, p in v, pussy eating, choking, hunting(?kind of?), (fake) threats of violence, mentions of stalking, the suit stays ON during sex, some weird purity/ corruption stuff in this idk i think a demon possessed me halfway through writing this. minors please do not interact!!

word count || 4k i did not mean for it to be this long oopsie!!

notes || i haven't written smut in a LONG time so i am so sorry if this is straight up garbage pls go easy on me. recently reread year one and im seriously going insane the hyperfixation is so back guys. i love writing edward so much especially when it comes to writing some nasty porn about him LOL. i srsly had no idea how to end this so its kinda bad sorry D:

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In recent months, you have found yourself growing increasingly frustrated. For the longest time, you haven’t had the faintest idea of what has been causing this, and that has caused it to manifest itself in various ways throughout your everyday life. You have found yourself much more easily annoyed by the most minor inconveniences, and have had repeated warnings at work to stop arguing with customers over the pettiest of matters. 

One afternoon in late November, whilst attempting to share in your boyfriend’s body heat on the sofa of your freezing living room, watching the news and listening to him ramble about finally ‘revealing the truth,’ it hits you. 

Edward hasn’t fucked you in months. 

Even before this change, you didn’t have the most active sex life- you were both too busy holding down your day jobs whilst simultaneously investigating the corruption poorly concealed beneath Gotham’s cobbled streets. Still, you’d find the time every other week or so to take care of each other. 

You love having sex with Edward; he’s so gentle with you, handling you like a precious gem that will shatter if dropped. He always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks of himself, worshipping your body with an obsession akin to a deeply faithful Catholic’s love for Christ himself.  

But sometimes... it can get boring. Not as boring as not having sex at all, but boring enough that you often find yourself lying awake at night, longing for Edward to keep up his Riddler persona for just a little while longer after he arrives home from doing whatever he does to have the coppery scent of blood soaking into the walls of your small apartment. 

You know your frustration will only worsen the longer you go without having sex, so you decide to do a small experiment. 

You take the next few days off work, pretending to be sick, and Edward, usually ever attentive to your every need, your Edward, who begins panicking if you all but sniffle the wrong way, barely notices. With your theory proven that his work has been turning him into someone who is evidently not your sweet Edward, you begin doing everything you can for even an ounce of attention from him. You give him shoulder massages after he returns home from a long day at work, cook him his favourite meals, run baths for him, at some point it evolves into you all but throwing yourself at him, and you have to take a step back to reevaluate your approach. Being that desperate for sex is not a good look, especially when your boyfriend is completely oblivious to how horny you are.  

You decide you need to formulate a plan to force him to focus on you. 

It starts with the lingerie. You scour the shopping apps on your phone for an embarrassingly long time, trying to find something perfect. You eventually come across a pretty lilac set, its sheer mesh bra framed with soft ruffles and feminine frills to accentuate your chest, and immediately order it, even begrudgingly spending a little extra for next day delivery. 

The next step of your plan is to come up with a simple puzzle, something stimulating but still to the point- you're so horny that you know the next time you’re in a room with Edward while he still has that Riddler costume on, it’s going to take some real self-restraint to stop yourself from ripping it off him.  

The final step of your plan is waiting for the perfect moment to put everything into action. You realise it isn’t the most complicated or glamorous scheme to ever exist, but if it manages to work and allows you to finally get some action, you won’t be complaining.  

One evening, when it’s well past 5pm, and definitely well past the time Edward should have been home from the office, you get a text from your beloved. 

hi honey, moved tuesday’s plans forward to today. got an opening with savage and cant miss it. will be home late- ill pick up food on my way back. love you. 

we’re finally making some REAL change : ) 

You almost leap out of your chair with excitement, rushing around the apartment to make sure everything is in place for your little game of hide and seek. 

When Edward finally returns home, the apartment is dark- it’s well past 11pm, so he figures you’re in bed. He sighs, setting down the takeaway bag on the coffee table and calling out your name, pausing when you don’t answer. You always wait up for him when he’s running his late-night ‘errands.’ When he thinks about it more, he realises you didn’t even text him back earlier this evening; you’ve been sick, too- what if you collapsed, or had complications, or worse?  

Before he can begin panicking, he finally notices the lit candle on the kitchen counter. Next to it is a piece of paper, which Edward gingerly picks up with shaking hands, reading the five words scrawled across it. 

‘Dear Riddler, 

Come find me.’ 

Confusion clouds Edward’s mind for a moment before he realises that he’s reading your handwriting, and the sweet flowery scent giving him a headache is his favourite perfume of yours. He stands still for a moment, rereading the note as the familiar feeling of want begins to curl in his lower belly. You’ve never actually addressed him as the Riddler before. 

He definitely likes it. 

You crouch uncomfortably in your hiding space beneath the dining table, straining your ears against the silence of the apartment as you try to gauge how Edward has taken your little game based off his breathing. You hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of something zipping up, and realise he must’ve slipped his jacket and mask back on because his breaths are definitely muffled now.  

He begins taking slow, deliberate steps around the apartment, his combat boots loudly thudding on the wooden floorboards as he does so. You suddenly feel very vulnerable in only your undergarments and wonder if this is how his victims must feel, a thrill tingling deliciously up your spine. 

You shift a little in your spot, trying to find a way to crouch comfortably while also remaining out of sight. Your heart pounds so hard in anticipation of being spotted that you’re sure Edward can hear it, especially when his footsteps begin to head towards your hiding spot.  

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the sound of your breathing to an absolute minimum; the silence in your apartment is deafening and, for the first time in all the years you have known him, you begin to feel almost weary of Edward’s presence. In this moment, you’re not just Edward’s partner. 

You’re his prey. 

So wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t hear Edward’s footsteps behind you. You feel two strong, gloved hands grab your hips and rip you out of your thoughts. You squeal giddily as Edward throws you onto the wooden dining table, biting your lip to stifle the giggles that threaten to spill out. 

Edward looms over you, his glasses glinting in the moonlight that seeps into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds. He is completely silent, save for the heavy breaths muffled by his mask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raspy, and the sound of it sends tiny shivers of excitement up your arms. 

“I’ve been watching you for so long. Every move you make, I’ve followed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you up. Do you know how hard it’s been? Hearing your pathetic whimpers while you fuck yourself every night, and having to wait until it’s me making you unravel? But now I have you here, all to myself, and no one is around to save you.” 

The sight of him like this, so indescribably large compared to you, looking down on you like a lion that has captured its prey and is about to rip it to shreds- it sends sparks of arousal through you that pool in your sheer underwear. You look up at Edward through your eyelashes, smiling innocently. 

“Looks like you caught me.” 

With that, he drags you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads towards your bedroom. Your face burns, unsure of when or how he got so strong, and the anticipation of what he is about to do to you sends tingles of delight down your spine. 

Edward throws you carelessly onto the bed before straddling you. He wordlessly grasps your wrists in one gloved hand, holding them above your head while he rips off a piece of duct tape from the roll that dangles from his belt, and binds them together securely. He subtly tilts his head to the side, and you can read him so well at this point that you know he’s asking if your restraints are too tight. You shake your head, and he immediately melts back into character, sweeping his gaze down your exposed body predatorily.  

His gloved hands reach forward, roughly groping your breasts, pinching and rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers. You squeak, writhing beneath him, deciding to put on a bit of a show with it. 

“P... please, don’t...” you whimper pathetically, bucking your hips into his. You hear him groan under his breath above you, removing one hand from your chest to grip your chin harshly, squishing your cheeks together. “Shut up.” His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks, a complete contrast to the sweet voice Edward usually addresses you with. “You’re trapped here, and no one is coming for you. You can scream as loud as you want, it won’t make a difference.” 

“You’re so pitiful, dressed up like one of those whores on the street just to get my attention.” He breathes out slowly, slipping a gloved finger beneath your bra to massage your nipple. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked, but a whore is still a whore. You need to be cleansed, like the rest of the filth in this city, and the only person willing to do that is me. That’s why,” he pauses, the hand gripping your chin roughly yanking your mouth open as he leans over you, pulling up his mask slightly and spitting in your mouth, “you will take everything I give to you like a grateful little bitch.” 

He slaps your face, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise, and you swallow the mixture of your saliva and his. You can’t stop the moan that slips out from between your parted lips, and he locks eyes with you, his pupils blown so wide with arousal that his eyes appear completely black in the low light. He leans forward again, pulling up his mask, and harshly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his knee forces your legs apart. You whimper when you feel his erection brush against your thigh and he bites down on your bottom lip, hard. He moves his focus to your neck and collarbones, attacking the sensitive skin with kisses and bites, marking every inch of you that’s visible. 

“This is so,” he murmurs breathlessly between fervent kisses to your skin- and, Christ, is he smelling you?- “everyone knows you were fucked by the Riddler. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to know that you’re such a whore that getting fucked by a serial killer gets that pathetic cunt of yours completely soaked.” You moan at his words, arching your back to press your chest against his as you grind against his knee. 

“Such a needy little thing. One touch from me and you’re already at my complete disposal.” He leans back on his heels to look over you, your hair a complete mess, your lips swollen and as red as the flush on your skin. The strap of your bra has slipped down your shoulder and Edward’s breaths become haggard as he reaches for the knife on his belt; he cuts away the fabric hiding your breasts from him, much to your dismay (that lingerie set was pretty fucking expensive), and immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before biting down lightly. You moan louder, squirming against your restraints and trying to pull away from him. 

He slaps you again, harder this time, running the flat side of his knife against the mark that begins blooming on your cheek. “If you don’t shut up and take it like a good girl, I'll have to hurt you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a face as pretty as yours.” 

You whimper, rubbing your clothed core against Edward’s thigh, feeling the arousal in your lower belly build from the stimulation. Edward certainly doesn’t miss this, his eyes widening slightly as he peels your underwear away from your pussy. A string of your own slick connects you to the mesh fabric, and you can hear the amusement in Edward’s voice when he says, “oh, I’m going to ruin you.” 

He cuts your underwear away, dragging his knife down your body painfully slowly. You shiver from the cool metal, whining from frustration when Edward’s gloved fingers spread your glistening folds, pointedly ignoring your throbbing clit. 

“You pathetic girl... so wet for me. No one else could get you to react like this from their words alone, could they?” You shake your head rapidly, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get closer to Edward’s fingers. “Say it, then.” He begins lazily rubbing circles into your clit, causing you to cry out with relief at him finally touching you. He runs the blunt end of his knife across your neck, twisting it in his hand so the tip presses into your skin, not quite breaching your flesh. “Nice and clear for me. Tell me that you’re my bitch.” 

You moan when he begins speeding up his movements on your clit, stumbling over your words. “I.. I’m your- your b-” He cuts you off with another slap to your cheek, and the action sends a sharp jolt of pleasure right to your clit, causing you to choke out a moan. “Not quite, pretty girl. Try again. Whose bitch are you?” Your eyes narrow with confusion for a second before you realise what he wants you to say. 

“I’m th- the Riddler’s bitch.” 

He nods, satisfied, pushing two gloved fingers inside of you while the other continues rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, whimpering and giving Edward a pleading look. 

He nods wordlessly and you unravel, your orgasm enveloping your body in a blissful warmth as your pussy clenches hard around Edward’s fingers. He breathes out through his nose, hard, as he watches you cum, his cock throbbing at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his fingers.  

Edward pulls his fingers out of you when your body finally finishes shaking, inspecting your wetness on them in the low light of your bedroom for several moments, before pushing them under his mask and sucking them clean. He moans at the taste of you, and you feel his dick twitching against your leg as he closes his eyes, savouring you. He sighs, opening his eyes. 

“I need more.” 

Before you can react, he’s gripping your waist with strong hands, dragging your body up against him, holding you up almost completely off the bed, and hooking your legs over his shoulders. Edward gazes at your drenched cunt with a hunger in your eyes that you've never seen displayed by him, his breaths deep and shaky as he smells the arousal leaking out of you. You squeak, thighs still quivering from your previous orgasm. 

“W-wait, Ed- Riddler, I... I’m still t-too sensitive for...” You cut yourself out with a cry of pained pleasure as he latches his mouth onto your pussy, pushing his tongue into your sensitive hole. You sob as he sucks on your clit, shocks of overstimulation wracking through you as you weakly kick your legs against him, your body growing limp. The sounds Edward makes as he devours your pussy are obscene, the room filling with echoes of your cries and Edward’s moans as he sucks and licks crudely at your sex. 

He pulls away occasionally, praising and degrading you in barely coherent pussydrunk babbles: “such a perfect girl for me,” “stupid bitch, such a needy whore for your savior,” “so pretty with mascara running down your face,” “any louder and I'll give you a real reason to cry,” “taste so good, i need all of you.” And it’s all so much, his tongue writhing so deep inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass, the cool leather biting into your flesh, the way he moans and ruts into the bed from the taste of you, and before you can even breathe you’re cumming again, and you’re cumming so hard your back lifts off the bed entirely, the strength of your orgasm rocking you all the way to your core. Your mind goes blank as a chain of choked moans and sobs spill from between your lips, all you can focus on being the way Edward continues to fuck you with his tongue all the way through your orgasm. You can feel your slick sliding down your thighs, and when Edward pulls away you can see it dripping down his chin, and you don’t miss the proud grin on his face as he pulls down his mask. 

He drops you back onto the bed, straddling you once more and wiping your slick from his chin with his finger, motioning for you to open your mouth. You obey him and he pushes the digit inside, motioning for you to suck it clean. When he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes darken, and you can practically feel the smug smile in his words. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? No one can make you cum like I can... and I can still smell how horny you are for me. You’re so needy, yet you’re never satisfied.” 

He tilts his head, and the dim light from the lamp behind him illuminates him similarly to a halo, and you almost find yourself beginning to create a religion in your head just to worship him. 

“I don’t think you’re being very grateful.” 

You begin crying out words of thanks, rubbing your legs together to lessen the ache of overstimulation. Edward's knees cage you in, and he grips one of your thighs with his hands. 

“Quit your grovelling and stop fucking moving when I’m talking to you.” His hand travels to your face, cupping your cheek with a surprising tenderness as he sighs. “You’re still so filthy... look what this city has done to you. I suppose I’m your last hope.” 

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, finally freeing his cock from its confines. The tip is an angry red and leaks with precum, and Edward lets out a breathy moan as he strokes it. He spreads your legs, lining himself up with your sex and pushing into you slowly. He gazes down at you, a complete mess beneath him, and groans. “You’re so lucky... being fucked by Gotham’s salvation...” 

You can barely think, let alone speak, and when Edward begins moving his hips, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it, you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. He moves in and out of your agonisingly slowly, and when you look up at him, you can make out that his eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of you. 

“Your virgin pussy is so... so fucking tight. Oh... h-how does it feel to be fucked by your saviour? Your God?” 

You sniffle beneath him, choking on your sobs as he speeds up to a punishing pace, his cock bruising your insides. He grabs at every inch of you, his hands finding refuge around your throat. 

“Oh, you’re so good. You were so filthy, but I will cleanse you. I will purify you; I will plant the seed of hope within you, and you will be saved.” 

He babbles on as he fucks you, squeezing his fingers around your throat, verging on crushing your windpipe but never quite gripping hard enough. You cry out for him, so cockdrunk and lightheaded from your sudden lack of oxygen that you find yourself looping your bound wrists around his neck, pulling him forward and crashing your lips to the rough leather of his mask. He makes a noise of surprise before his fingers once again find your clit, rubbing at it desperately as his hips begin to stutter against your own. 

Edward, ever the gentlemen, wants you to cum before him; you feel your cheeks grow warm at the thought, and pull away to look at him. You can barely keep your focus on him, your vision going hazy, and he begins assaulting your clit with more fervor. 

“Be a good little angel and cum for your savior.” 

Your vision goes white as the orgasm rips through you, your entire body spasming as your pussy clenches down hard on Edward’s cock. He has to stop moving to prevent himself from cumming as he guides you through your own orgasm, his fingers weaving through your hair as he coos at you. 

“Yes, that’s it. Such a perfect girl. So pretty cumming on my cock.” 

He begins speeding up again, his hips slapping against yours with a clumsy rhythm, his breathy moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You lay, exhausted, whimpering incoherent words of encouragement to him as he chases after his own climax. 

You feel him begin to pull out and you weakly wrap your legs around his hips. “W-want you inside. Need... need you to cleanse me from the inside.” 

Your words are what tip Edward over the edge, and he whimpers loudly as his cum spills inside you, his hips grinding into yours as he relishes in the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Thank God you're on birth control.

Edward slowly pulls out of you and cuts the duct tape that binds you, gently pressing kisses to the insides of your wrists. He pulls off his fogged up glasses and his mask, placing a gentle kiss to your lips as he smiles at you worriedly. 

“I didn’t go too far, did I?” 

There's your lovely Eddie.

You shake your head, laughing weakly and he smiles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he helps you to your feet and guides you to the bathroom, letting you use his body for support. Edward sits you on the lip of the bath and dampens a towel, gentle cleaning you up and placing loving kisses to every bare patch of skin he can reach. He reluctantly leaves you alone to freshen up as he straightens up the bed, changing into his pajamas and finding your favourite t shirt of his to sleep in. 

When you re-enter the bedroom, with a slight limp that Edward definitely notices but refuses to comment on, he dresses you and tucks you into bed before lying next to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. 

“Sorry I’ve been so... distant lately.” 

When you go to answer him, he rubs his thumb soothingly on your cheek and you get the message that he hasn’t finished talking. 

“We have big things planned, we both know that, but... it wasn’t right of me to not look after you when, now that I look back at it, you really made it obvious that you needed me to. I hope you can forgive me.” 

You smile, pressing a shy kiss to Edward’s lips. 

“Don’t apologise, Eddie. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can apologise tomorrow when I can’t feel my legs or sit down properly for a week.” 

He laughs and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.  

“I really love you, you silly girl. A-and..."

He pulls away from you but continues to avert his gaze, his cheeks pink and a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

"The, um, th-the lingerie was very pretty, you looked really lovely. I'm, ah, sorry about..."

He doesn't meet your eyes and you snort, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek with a fond smile.

"Yeah. That I'm not so quick to forgive. You have no idea how expensive nice underwear is when you're a woman."

Edward laughs shyly, delicately holding your wrist and pressing tender kisses to your palm that leave you melting. The heat in his eyes, however, is undeniable.

"I absolutely will not complain if you decide to spend all my money on pretty lingerie and then decide to model said lingerie for me."

"You're unbelievable."

You both laugh as Edward continues peppering soft kisses up your arm, then your bruising neck before finally meeting your lips in a tender kiss. He pulls away, and the way he looks at you with such love and adoration almost makes you tear up.

Edward twirls a strand of hair around his finger, pulling you closer to his chest. His fingers reach up and he begins combing them through your hair properly, whispering sweet praise to you as you find yourself dozing off.

[yunyunrin]

Pool Play(date) — Yunho

genre : smut

warnings : sex in public, no prep, sex in a pool (wouldnt advise doing this), unprotected sex (pls dont do this), soft dom(?) yunho, reader has a vagina and breasts but there are no pronouns used towards reader, jongho makes an appearance

wc : right under 2.1k

a/n : this is the first smut i’ve written in years!! so it may not be the best but it was proofread by a close friend <3 so if you have any suggestions dont be afraid to give them i just ask you be nice! also, im working on holy fool i’ve just been so so busy but it is in the process of being written and chapter 1 should be out this week!

a/n 2 : this idea came from yunho’s story… thoughts were thought and i had to write them out LOL!!!! user yunou._.u u will be dealt with …

The sun’s rays beat heavily on your skin as you lay down on the chair by the pool. Although you put a lot of sunscreen on before you came on and even reapplied a couple of times since coming outside, you can still feel the twinge of red that the sun decided to lay upon your cheeks.

Your sunglasses mask the sun, and before you know it, you’re drifting off to sleep. You were enjoying your nap until you felt a splash of water hit you. This caused you to look up to find the cause of the disturbance of your nap.

It doesn’t take you long to find Yunho propping himself up on the edge of the pool looking at you with a mischievous grin. “Yunho, that wasn’t funny. I was taking a nap,” You fake an annoyed tone with him, but ultimately, your face fails you when you smile. You quickly turn away, but it is too late for Yunho already saw you smile.

Yunho gets out of the pool and comes to you and sits on the pool chair next to you. “I’m sorry that I annoyed my pretty baby,” Yunho says as he puts his hand in front of your eyes as you’ve taken off your sunglasses by this point since the splash of water got on them earlier.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t interrupt the love of your life when they’re taking a nap,” You tell him, looking away from him to keep your ruse up a bit longer.

“Perhaps I should make it up to the love of my life then?” Yunho quips as his other hand begins to trail up your leg, goosebumps appearing once his hand moves from one spot to another.

“Yunho, not here.” You tell him while holding back a whine. You cover your face with your hands, your reaction to his light touch of your leg at the pool embarrassing you.

“Why not? Don’t you want something besides the sun to warm you up?” Yunho asks you innocently, but when you look at him a smirk is plastered across his face. His hand has moved to your hips, massaging the area around your waistband.

You blush at the comment, knowing that if the sun didn’t cause your face to be red then it definitely is red now. “Yunho, I would love for you to warm me up. But someone could walk in at any time.” You say nervously, looking around at the entrances that are near the pool.

“Baby, no one has been here all day. I promise no one will show up, but we don’t have to do anything. Plus, I can do a lot more in the comfort of our hotel room anyway.” Yunho says, and you know he means it.

But the thought intrigues you, if you’re being honest. Having to be quick so no one sees, Yunho having to cover you in case someone comes in. That thought alone is enough to make you squeeze your legs together, always loving that Yunho was so much taller and muscular than you that he could hide you with ease.

Your reactions to the thoughts wandering around in your head don’t go unnoticed by Yunho. The sexual tension so thick that you think that if anyone did happen to walk in, they would walk right out anyway. “So what do you say?” Yunho asks, breaking the silence that you and him had been sitting in.

“Yes, but on one condition.” You say, watching his face go from looking surprised (likely because he never expected you to say yes) and lust.

“What is your condition my love?” He asks you, his breathing starting to get a bit heavier than normal. You can see his boner pushing at his shorts, and you decide to tease him a little before answering. By this point, Yunho’s pool chair is right next to yours. You take advantage of the closeness, turning around to face him. You interlock your fingers with him and move your upper knee to slowly graze against his bulge, earning a grunt from the male.

“My condition is that we do it in the pool, you can’t kiss me, and you can’t take my bottoms off,” You accentuate the last word of your sentence with a pop. Yunho hates not being able to kiss you during sex and typically he hates the barrier that your bathing suit bottoms gives you.

“Can I kiss you underwater?” He asks you, and you nod, partially because you wanted to know what he’d do and how he’d figure something like that out. Next thing you know, you’re being picked up, and you’re in the water. Yunho took the liberty to jump in the deep side with you. You’re glad he knows how to swim because you don’t. Even if you did know how to swim, you think you’d fail yourself at this moment.

You and Yunho are under the water, he’s holding your waist close to him, and he is connecting your lips under the water. Before too long, you and him are back to the surface.

“Put your arms around my neck.” Yunho instructs you, his voice lowers a few more octaves than his normal voice. You wrap your arms around his neck, you look around and see that you’re both in the middle of the pool. “I was the one who was supposed to pay attention to the surroundings, no?” Yunho quips, as he grips your thigh and anchors your left leg around his waist.

Yunho has pushed you both to the very end of the pull, your back is touching the cool concrete of the edge. Your body tenses up with nervousness and excitement. This whole experience of the pool is new to you, but your insecurities are starting to hit you all at once.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to let anyone see you. Relax with me, please?” Yunho says to you, beginning to massage your hips again. Your hips were always really sensitive to you, Yunho often using it to his advantage in a multitude of situations. Luckily in this one, it had you calming down and squeezing your hips against Yunho’s waist as much as you could.

One of Yunho’s hands is holding on to the concrete to keep you afloat at the top, the other now rubbing against your clothed core. You put your face into Yunho’s neck, muffling the moan that escaped you at the initial touch of his hand.

His hand starts to move agonizingly slow causing you to move your head towards him. “Look at me while I touch you,” Yunho says to you before you can ask. His pointer finger hooks in the center of your bathing suit bottoms causing your breath to hitch.

His hand starts massaging your clit, using his abdomen to press into your lower stomach. “Yunho, stop” you say to him and he stops instantly. Worry fills his face as he looks at you trying to figure out what’s going on, looking around the outside of the pool, mentally cursing himself thinking that he had somehow missed someone walking in.

You pull his head back to look at you, wanting to ease his insecurities. “You did nothing wrong Yunho, I just need you inside me, now.” You practically beg him, the ache in between your legs growing.

“Baby, I haven’t even prepped you yet.” Yunho tries to reason with you, knowing that it is already a tight fit even when he has prepped you.

“Yunho I don’t care. I can take it. If you are not inside me within the minute I swear I will ban you from playing Valorant for a week after we get home from vacation, and if I catch you playing I will not suck your dick for a month.” You tell him, but before you can blink he has you turned around, with your back now touching his chest and your hands holding on to the concrete edge around you.

He pushes his swimming trunks down just enough to let his cock spring free. He quickly pulls your bottoms to the side, the opening only big enough for him to put his cock inside you. He begins to push inside you, paying attention to the signs you give him.

Although you told him that you could take it, he still worries. You clench around his cock, a moan falling from his mouth. He slowly pushes the rest of his cock inside you until he bottoms out.

You and him stay like this for a little, enjoying the feeling of being full. “Thank you for giving me the courage to do this with you, Yunho,” you tell him while interlocking one of his hands with your’s. His free hand massages your breast, you bite your lip to muffle a moan. The stimulation he was giving you wasn’t any more than usual; the combination of the cold water against your body and with the thrill of being in an entirely new place is ticking you in ways you haven’t been ticked before.

You hadn’t realized that you had zoned out until Yunho pinches your nipple, causing you to yelp, now completely coming out of the trance you had been in before. You could tell Yunho was getting a bit antsy, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you, aching for more stimulation. Deciding to clench around him and grind on his cock to tease him.

He gives a quick kiss to your neck before slowly pulling himself out of you a little just to push himself back in. “Please go faster,” you whimper out. Yunho’s pace quickens, the water beginning to splash you both. You try to muffle your moans, but they end up just coming out as whimpers. Yunho’s cock has always been able to reach depths that you couldn’t get to by yourself, the fullness always there no matter how many times you and him have sex. You can feel the tingly feeling rising in your stomach as Yunho’s thrust gets a bit sloppier, signaling that he is also close.

“Such a pretty baby, so cock drunk that you’re willing to take it in the pool where someone walk in and see you. Is that what you want, people to come in and see you full of my cock?” Yunho whispers into your ear.

“Baby, I’m going to cum soon,” Yunho says, almost whining now that he is close to his release.

“I’m not there yet, almost,” you tell Yunho. He quickly moves his hand to your clit, massaging it at a quick and steady pace. The chillness from the water and the heat from your arousal are quickly aiding you to your orgasm as Yunho works you up with your fingers. Your impending orgasm having arrived quickly.

“I’m so close Yunho so close,” you are practically begging him for release now. Yunho bites your shoulder and pulls himself almost fully out of you, which causes you to whine at the lost contact, but then he thrust fully back into you deeply and quickly, which tips you over the edge. Yunho has also cum, his hand gripping your thigh as he catches his breath into your shoulder. You and him sit against the edge of the pool for a couple of minutes, regaining your previously lost composure.

Yunho pulls back from you to pull his swimming trunks up and you rearrange your bottoms as well. “I think that was some of the best sex we’ve had in a while,” you say to Yunho, to which he nods in agreement, still catching his breath.

The entrance to the pool opens and Jongho walks through the door. “How does the water feel?” Jongho asks the both of you. You and Yunho look at each other, giggling.

“Water feels great Jjong,” Yunho replies before giving you a peck on the lips.

Jongho side eyes you and the taller man, causing you and him to both bust out laughing. “You all are n a s t y” Jongho says, making sure to spell out the last word to enunciate his disgust at the public display of affection.

“Be glad you walked in now and not ten minutes ago” Yunho yells to Jongho, which earns him a kick to the knee. “Ow!” Yunho looks at you for a bit before laughing at you and Jongho’s reaction to his previous comment.

“I’m leaving,” Jongho exclaims before dramatically leaving the pool area. Leaving you and Yunho alone once again.

[sweetlittlefawntears]

my girl ♱

au : this is my first fic on this acc , no smut just a lotta fluff n tldr is ellie ( roommate and gf !! ) comforts u after a long day . this has been in my notes forever its rly bad LOL . pls enjoy !

cw : fem reader x kinda masc ellie , established relationship , reader has a breakdown , reader has a hard time in college due to mental health . y/n not used . not proofread i am sorry . reader is described as having long hair . intentional lowercase !!

wc : 1k

౨ৎ being your girlfriend , ellie always wanted to make sure you were safe and doing well in school. she tried to help you in every way she could , making sure that you weren't too stressed out .

౨ৎ ellie always made sure to bring you water when you were studying , and always made sure you took breaks while doing homework .

౨ৎ she always made sure you had everything you needed . your major in college was super hard , and ellie knew it .

౨ৎ one day , you came home from class , extremely exhausted and ready to give up on writing a that huge essay you had due and just flop on your bed to sleep for three days straight .

౨ৎ when you came home , ellie saw you and immediatley put down her phone to come comfort you .

౨ৎ "whats wrong bun ?" she asked you , rubbing the small of your back . she'd seen you tired , sure , but she felt like you were definitely pushing it . you were never the type of person to do something halfway .

౨ৎ "im jus' so tired els . school is literally the worst , i have basically no free time n im so exhausted ." you defintley looked weary and you had tears in your eyes .

౨ৎ ellie placed her hand on your shoulder and guided you over to the couch , where you both sat . she rubbed your back softly before you put your hands to your face and started to softly cry .

౨ৎ ellie stayed silent , and continued to rub your back while you cried into your hands . after a few minutes , she hugged you as you cried into her chest .

౨ৎ "it'll be okay..." she said as she hugged you . she put one hand on the back of your neck while the other drew small circles on your spine .

౨ৎ ellie was the type of person to make sure you were okay way before she assessed how she felt , and right now , you were all that mattered to her . you were her entire life , and she had to make sure you were okay .

౨ৎ "why don't you take the night off ?" she said , as you sniffled and wiped your tear stained face . your eyes were puffy and pink .

౨ৎ "i guess i can take one night off ." you had resigned to the fact that even if you had tried to get your work done , you wouldn't have been able to concentrate . you always ended up getting distracted by random thoughts or texting on your phone , wasting the hours away that you should have been studying or reading .

౨ৎ ellie got up from the couch and proceeded to get you a blanket and some warm tea to help you relax . she put her tattooed arm around you while you rested your head on her shoulder.

౨ৎ ellie wanted to help you relax in the best way possible , so she turned on one of your favorite movies for the two of you . she periodically smiled at you and asked how you were throughout the night .

౨ৎ when the movie was finished , she wanted you to get some rest for the next day . "c'mon bun , you need to get some rest ." she spoke softly , and held your hand as you went into your room to get ready for bed .

౨ৎ ellie played with your long hair as you brushed your teeth and washed your face . "pretty girl ." she said as she looked at you and smiled .

౨ৎ ellie waited for you to get changed into pjs before getting into bed with you , she wanted you to feel warm and comfortable after such a long and grueling day of schoolwork .

౨ৎ ellie hugged you from behind as you drifted off to sleep , not worrying about your school struggles or any other woes you had about the next day of school . ellie was happy to see you finally at peace with the world after such a horrible week .

౨ৎ she hugged you all night long , and in the morning she was right beside you , ready to help you with whatever you needed .

౨ৎ "goodmorning bun ..." she trailed off , as she ruffled your hair and smiled at you .

♡ okayyyy thats it for this fic !! sorry this was kinda bad i just wanted 2 write some fluff n i got this idea from my best friend hehe :3 sorry for the rlly rlly long content warning i just like to specify everything clearly !!! i hope u guys enjoyed n send me IDEASSSS i will prob get around to babbling about them sumtime ♡

[alexawynters]

Scarlet Whispers pt. 8

Gif not mine, as always

Trigger Warnings: Smuttttttt. Horribly written smut.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Masterlist with parts 1-7 here

Chapter Eight

Translations: котёнок - Kitten; malyshka - baby; lyubov - love; dorogoya - darling; I probably missed some… I should have probably been doing this the entire time, no? Eh… My b.

A/N: Its uhhh.. My first time writing smut for the public so uh… be gentle pls? Lol. Lemme know how it went. Writing dialog and smut makes me cringe haha. This was also written while I was in the hospital. Is it bad that the 5 day stay was almost a vacation compared to life? Haha, living the dreeeaammm. Someone pls hit me with their car or something so I can go back and have 0 responsibilities for another week. Promise I won’t sue 😛

Once again, edited while floaty. Apparently that’s the only time I can get the motivation to open my laptop. In my defense, I’m currently in the middle of a move and starting a new job so pls forgive my laziness. I’m a tad overwhelmed. It’s finnnne. 

____________________________________________________________

During your time at the aquarium with Wanda, you hadn't noticed how late it had gotten. Logically, you knew it was around dinner time because you both had just eaten, but you didn't realize until you both entered the dimly lit cottage that it was so dark outside. Despite the long day you’d had, you weren't ready to go to bed just yet. Body thrumming with an unfamiliar energy, and you could tell it stemmed from Wanda's hand still holding onto your waist. Now that you were home, it would be socially acceptable for her to let you go, but instead, she chose to linger.

Never one to enjoy having others in your personal space, regardless of if you were touch starved, you were thrilled to discover that you didn't mind the witch being so close to you. In fact, the mere thought of being separated from her made your stomach roil with anxiety. Looking at the redhead next to you as you traversed the hallway towards your room for the evening, a new kind of craving overcame you. This one was different from the hunger you had experienced just before dinner, and you realized that you couldn't get enough of the witch’s touch and presence.

Reaching your shared room Wanda finally moves to separate from you, and as she heads opposite from you, her hand falling away, you make a split-second decision. Well. Decision was being generous. More accurately you allowed your impulses to take over, unable to think logically - you couldn’t let Wanda get too far. Not that there was anywhere for her to go in a bedroom you both shared, but your brain wasn’t exactly running on all cylinders at this time.

“Wait!” 

You don’t know what, or even if you were thinking, knowing only that in the scant few feet the witch was away from you, your whole world felt like it was collapsing. A lightly calloused hand shot out as you turned to grab her hand again, and in your exuberance, you accidentally ended up yanking the woman towards you. In an unexpected feat of grace surprising both of you, you managed to catch Wanda. Despite her velocity, you were able to use her momentum, spinning both of you. A small jolt of pain wracked through your bones as your back landed harshly against the smooth wall, with Wanda safely in your arms. Chests heaved for air, both of you having fully expected to collide, ending up in a heap on the floor.

After the initial surprise wore off, both women giggled, though neither made a move to separate. “What is it, Y/N?” the older woman asked. Amusement colored her gaze, mixed with something else you couldn’t quite decipher. You were still learning new facial expressions to this day. 

“I-” You started then stopped, trying to assemble your thoughts and determine just how vulnerable you were willing to be. “Thank you, Wanda. For today. For… everything. This was..” you trailed off, unable to find the words. “Everything.”

You hoped Wanda would understand what you meant by that even if you yourself weren’t quite sure just yet. What you were sure of is that you wanted to return to Wanda at least a fraction of the care and devotion she had shown you in all this time. You knew you didn’t want her to walk away, heart aching at the concept. What you didn’t know was what you wanted to do next, you hadn’t exactly gotten that far, but you couldn’t stomach the thought of being apart from her.

The redhead’s gaze softened at your words. “You don’t need to thank me, lyubov. You deserve so much, and I just want you to be happy.” 

The words “with me” went unspoken, though she was dying to let them out. Instead, well-manicured hands lifted the tips of her fingers to gently push some fallen strands of your hair from  your face, as she studied you curiously. A feeling you both were on the precipice of something settled firmly within the witch’s chest. Wanda was fairly confident she knew exactly what that something was, but she wouldn’t plunge you into anything you weren’t yet ready to fall into.

Though certain in her assumptions, Wanda was unable to clearly read your surface thoughts. A jumbled mass of emotions, each thought no more than fleeting before another took its place, your mind was a whirlwind. The next steps had to be taken by you, and if you weren’t up for that yet, the redhead was content with where you both were at this moment. 

A palpable tension filled the air, conveying an unspoken awareness that something transformative was about to occur. Anticipation lingered in the atmosphere, creating a delicate blend of nervousness and excitement. There was an understated, magnetic attraction that drew you closer to Wanda. Completely unaware as you were, enthralled by the alluring softness of her lips which stoked a longing within you to know if they felt as velvety as they appeared, you were unconsciously learning forward.

It was a moment of breathless expectation, where time seemed to stretch. The world had fallen away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the beauty of the impending inevitability. Eyes finally connecting with Wanda’s, a silent, mutual understanding was shared, and in that moment, you made a decision.

”May I…?” your voice a husky tremor, thick with emotion.

Never had Wanda found you more endearing than in that moment. Your innocent consideration that you would need to ask her permission after everything. As if she hadn't been waiting for this very moment for so long. As if this wasn’t what she had been waiting for since first discovering the Darkhold, and all the possibilities of a multiverse.

“Please, Y/N.” The witch’s reply was all but a breathy whisper.

As your lips and hers finally connected in a gentle, exploratory kiss, an electric current seemed to pass through their bodies, igniting a fire within your souls. It was a moment of pure magic, a culmination of all the emotions and desires that had been building between you both. Breaths mingled, blending together in a perfect harmony of passion and longing.

The softness of the kiss spoke volumes, revealing a depth of connection that you were certain words could never fully capture. A tender exchange, filled with a delicate balance of vulnerability and trust. Each touch, each movement of Wanda’s lips against yours, was deliberate, as if she was savoring every precious moment of this newfound intimacy with you.

With every passing second, the world around faded away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a bubble of pure bliss. Time seemed to stand still as you explored this uncharted territory together. A feeling as if something inside, you hadn’t known had been missing, was now perfectly slotted into place. Home.

When it came to kissing you, Wanda marveled at the stark contrasts between your Avenger variant, and you. While your other variant was self-assured, often taking command of a kiss with practiced skill, you, on the other hand, were gentle and tentative. It was evident that you were willing to let Wanda take the lead, which she found incredibly empowering, almost addictive. She knew she should probably take this first kiss slowly for you, however, your submissiveness was simply too delicious for her to pass up such an opportunity.

Long, slender fingers came to rest just under your jaw, firmly holding you close, Wanda using her body to press you harder against the wall, as if trying to merge your two bodies into one. A gasp escaped you at the length of the witch’s body pressed so intimately against you. Wanda, ever opportunistic, took advantage of your open mouth to deepen the kiss, her lithe tongue swiping softly at the seam of your lips in askance. 

You couldn’t even fathom a moment where you would ever deny Wanda this request, opening your mouth to grant her the access she desired. Her skillful tongue sensually slid against yours, eliciting a barely suppressed whimper from you. With a little coaxing Wanda was able to entice your tongues to engage in a seductive dance, leaving you breathless and heady. 

Eventually, the kiss broke, leaving both of you craving more. It had opened the door to a world of possibilities, and in that moment, everything changed. The bond between the pair of you had deepened more than you could know, and more than Wanda had hoped for. Despite initial reservations, your heart knew then you would follow Wanda anywhere, irrevocably tied to the witch forever. There was no one you wanted or trusted more.

While trying to catch your breath, no words were spoken. Taking this moment, your intrusive thoughts began creeping in because of course they were. Desperately you hoped the woman wouldn’t view the kiss as a mistake, praying that you measured up to your superhero counterpart. That you were truly what she had been looking for all this time, even if you weren’t anything special.

You would do anything to have her lips on yours again, and briefly a thought occurred to you that this woman could murder you, and you would probably thank her for the privilege. Therapy, maybe you should ask Wanda if she could get you in to see a therapist, because that wasn’t concerning at all. 

It wasn't in you to feel ashamed just then though, not when the very thought resonated in your soul. Gods, was this what you had been missing your entire life? And it had been right under your nose, for ages you had been unknowingly depriving yourself, hellbent on self-sabotage.

As you finally caught your breath, the witch gazed at you hungrily, causing a shiver to race down your spine.

"What do you want, detka?" Wanda asked, voice sultry. She tilted her head as if curious, but in reality, she was relishing in your disheveled appearance, eyes raking over your blown pupils, and kiss-swollen lips. So responsive for her, and this was only a kiss. Your first kiss with her, to be specific. Wanting to completely ruin you, it took every ounce of self-restraint for Wanda to wait for your answer instead.

Chest heaving, your brain struggled to pull together enough brain cells in order to provide her with an answer. When you finally spoke, your voice had a throaty quality you had never heard before.

”You. I want you.”

Green eyes, the color of jade, sparkled in such delight they could have practically illuminated the room with their vibrant glow. As you stared into her mesmerizing gaze, you got lost in her presence. Your mind was a myriad of thoughts, unable to focus on anything else. Every word she spoke, every movement she made, had a profound impact on you. As if the witch had cast a spell over you, weaving her magic effortlessly, and you willingly succumbed to her enchantment, eager to be under her captivating influence. 

A mischievous smile played upon her lips, adding an air of mystery to her already enchanting demeanor. The grin hinted at the hidden depths within her, the playful intentions that lied just beneath the surface. So, as Wanda’s mischievous smile lingered, you couldn't help but be drawn further into her web of enchantment, willingly surrendering yourself to the metaphorical spell she had cast.

"Oh, lyubov, will you let me ruin you?" she asked teasingly, her voice filled with impishness and a hint of excitement.

Swallowing nervously, you felt desire building deep within you. Your experiences in this matter were limited, but you trusted the former avenger all the same. Still, you had a sneaking suspicion that whatever Wanda had in store for you would likely test your limits, even if you had no idea what those were yet. Eagerly, you nodded, ready to throw yourself headlong into this unknown, trusting the witch implicitly.

The moment her silky lips met yours once again, a hunger ignited within her, surprising both of you with its intensity and passion. Wanda pulled you close, her fingers curled in your hair, keeping you in place as she plundered your mouth. You could do little but let her lead the way, trying not to embarrass yourself with how much she was turning you on. Her sharp teeth tugged on your lower lip before biting down hard enough to draw blood. A pitiful whine was barely restrained by you as Wanda lapped at the new wound she had caused.

Deciding to test your boundaries during the kiss, the redhead gently wrapped her other hand around your throat. Not tight enough to cut off your oxygen supply, but the pressure did restrict some of the blood flow to your brain, leaving you in a deliciously foggy haze. A breathy moan escaped you, which Wanda eagerly swallowed as you gladly ceded control of the kiss to her. Pride out the window, you were no longer capable of trying to withhold any sounds she could draw from you. Wanda found it delightful that so far you were proving to be the perfect little котёнок for her. The redhead eagerly anticipated discovering what other surprises you had in store for her.

The other hand not on your neck moved from your hair down to the first button of your shirt and hesitated. “Is this okay, Y/N?” She asked, voice surprisingly soft for someone who currently had one of their hands wrapped around your neck.

Sluggish thoughts hazy with lust, you nodded with what would have probably counted as an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm. Having someone as gorgeous as Wanda in front of you, asking for your consent, you found you couldn’t be bothered by your eagerness. You were a simp, and you were fine with that. Anything to get more of Wanda touching you.

The former Avenger grinned, finding you utterly adorable. She was charmed by how needy you were for her. Unable to help but revel in the power dynamics between you, relishing the opportunity to challenge your blissed-out mind and watch as you struggled to comply with her demands. It was a delightful game for Wanda, and she was going to have fun training you.

Before she could continue though, the witch wanted you to be absolutely sure. Regardless of how long she had waited for you, if you weren’t truly ready, Wanda didn’t want to push you. She wanted all of you, everything you had to give, but if you still weren’t ready, weren’t sure, she could wait. Wanda would wait forever if she had to. 

 “Lyubov moya, if you want me to stop at any point, just say the word, and I’ll stop immediately, okay? Full stop, I promise, and I won’t be upset with you.” she insisted, voice thick with longing as her nose grazed gently across yours in a reassuring manner. 

Even now, Wanda was always putting your safety and happiness as her top priority, endearing her evermore to you. How could you have ever doubted that this woman had anything but your best interests at heart? The purest of intentions?

Knowing it was a bit over dramatic, while you appreciated her reassurances, if the witch didn’t do something in the next few seconds, you felt like you might combust. Releasing a needy whine, you hoped to convey your desperation to Wanda who only chuckled at your behavior. 

“Relax, malyshka, I’ll take good care of you, I promise. But first, I need you to use your words, darling.” The hand on your throat easing its grip a little, allowing more blood to your brain, giving you back some of your intellectual capacity.

With Wanda’s body covering yours, you petulantly ground against her in the hopes of achieving any sort of friction, causing her lips to quirk upwards in an amused smirk. You weren’t going to get out of this until she had confirmation of your understanding, and if she happened to tease you into a petulant, writing mess in the process, well, that was just the cherry on top.

Giving in, you let out a keening whimper. “I understand Wands, please. Just touch me. Please!”

A wolfish grin overtook Wanda’s face at your begging. Green eyes locked with yours, and she could see the desire and longing in your eyes, mirroring her own. The way you looked at her, with a mixture of vulnerability and trust, made her heart flutter with a sense of joy and fulfillment. You were willing to surrender yourself to her guidance, to allow her to take the lead and shape you into the person she knew you could become. That kind of implicit trust and faith you had in her shot her arousal through the roof.

With each passing moment, Wanda's excitement grew, knowing that she had the opportunity to train and mold you into her perfect little котёнок. She relished the thought of all the fun games that lay ahead, confident in her ability to guide you towards your full potential. Your willingness to submit to her desires fueled her passion, making her all the more determined to own you completely. This power was the ultimate high, and she didn’t think she could ever get enough of it.

Her hand moved from your throat to wrap around your waist with a firm yet gentle grasp, pulling you closer to her in an undeniable display of ownership. The touch of her hand on your hip sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, igniting a fire within you that you had never experienced before. It was a possessiveness that transcended the boundaries of mere desire, a possessiveness that spoke volumes about the depth of her emotions for you.

Far from being suffocating, her dominance was a testament to the strength of your bond. A tangible manifestation of the passion that burned between the two of you, it was a flame that only grew stronger with each passing moment. Her assertive touch was a declaration, a proclamation of her utter devotion and fierce protectiveness towards you.

In that instant, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the intensity of her feelings. A sensation that both thrilled and comforted you, it was a magnetic pull that drew you closer to her with each passing second. Feeling as if you were the center of her universe, the focus of her unfaltering attention, and you visibly preened under her attentiveness. Your hands which were clenching the bottom of her shirt held fast, unwilling to let her move more than a few inches away.

Now that she had your consent and had subtly established your place with her, Wanda's svelte hands returned to the task of unbuttoning your shirt. Unable to resist the allure of your lips for long, she passionately kissed you once again. As your lips moved against each other with a sensual rhythm, Wanda swiftly unbuttoned your shirt. Before you knew it, your shirt was completely undone, revealing your torso to her exploring hands. A shiver ran through your body as her slightly cool palm pressed against your abdomen for the very first time, the gravity of her body pressing you further into the wall. While you had felt her touch on your skin before, it had never been this intimate, this exhilarating.

As her hand glided over your bare skin, heat coursed through your body, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. The flames within you steadily stoked by every caress. Your breath hitched as her touch lingered, tracing delicate patterns along your abdomen.

Growing desperate you deepened the kiss. Your hands instinctively reach for her, moving from the hem of her shirt to tangle in her hair as you pull her closer. The magnitude of the moment was almost too much, feeling the desire consuming you from within.

Wanda's lips slid against yours with a fervent hunger. Her roving hands continued their journey, tracing every curve and contour of your torso with an almost reverent touch, sending pleasure coursing through your body. As your lips moved in perfect synchrony, heightening your senses, it left you yearning for more. The room was filled with a heady mix of desire and anticipation, as you both gave in to the draw of the moment..

Lost in the haze of passion, you couldn't help but give yourself completely to Wanda's touch. The way she explored every inch of your body with a delicate yet possessive hand left you breathless, craving more of her commanding aura. It was a dance of pleasure and surrender, a symphony of sensations that left you craving her touch like a drug. You had never needed anyone or anything as much as you needed Wanda to continue doing whatever she wanted to you.

As the kiss broke, both of you gasped for air. Wanda, still breathing heavily, leaned back to take in the sight of your newly revealed skin, her eyes darkening with want. Though never having been confident in your own body, often choosing to cover up, to hide in your self-consciousness, the way Wanda was looking at you now though left no doubt she liked what she saw. Yet still your insecurities plagued you, especially now that you were no longer covered up and there was nothing for you to hide behind.

The witch didn’t need to read your mind to know where your thoughts were going. The expression on your face, the way you tried to curl in on yourself made it plain. Voice thick with desire, Wanda needed to reassure you. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N. Don’t ever let yourself believe otherwise.”

Though you didn’t truly believe her words, her tone and the way she held you like she couldn’t get enough was almost capable of convincing you in and of itself. You decided then that throwing yourself into this was the fastest way to get out of your head. Throwing caution to the wind, you slammed your lips against Wanda’s again, desperate for more of her.

Impatient, you couldn't resist the urge to guide Wanda's hands lower, craving for her to touch you more. Deft fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive spot, sending a surge of pleasure  shooting through you, and tearing a quiet gasp from your mouth. Your body responded eagerly to her every caress, arching into her hands, silently begging for more. Emboldened by your response, Wanda's touch grew daring, her kisses to your neck pressing harder leaving red welts that would purple over by tomorrow. Her marks on you would tell all who you belonged to. Her fingers began exploring your body with a newfound confidence. The touch was both gentle and possessive, leaving you with the utter clarity that she wanted to mark every inch of you as her own, even the parts of you no one else would ever see.

The room was filled with the sound of your shared breaths, heavy with desire. Feeling the urgency building within you, your body pressed closer to Wanda's, seeking to ease some of the pressure within. Her touch was all at once overwhelming yet not enough.

Determined to elicit every delicious sound she could from you, one of Wanda's hands finally moved to your breast. Gently she cupped it while her thumb teased you by gliding around your areola, avoiding your hardened bud. She took great enjoyment in your whimpers and gasps as she teased you. If she had it her way, she would keep you like this, never giving you quite what you wanted. Wanda would ease you into that eventually though. For now, this was enough.

Eventually she had mercy on you, letting her thumb lightly graze across your nipple. A deep, throaty groan emanated from within you, your hips bucking against hers, unbidden. Taking the opportunity you had presented her with, Wanda slotted her knee between your thighs, applying firm pressure just where you needed it most. You whispered an exhaled curse as your head slumped forward onto the older woman’s shoulder. Your grip on her tightened, the urge to just rut against Wanda’s leg nearly overpowering what little was left of your rational mind.

Wanda could feel the subtle grinding of your hips against her leg, and she encouraged it, pressing harder each time you arched towards her. The witch grasped your hips firmly, helping to set your rhythm as you desperately sought more friction between the apex of your thighs.

For someone who hadn't even taken off their pants yet, you were surprisingly worked up, but you were far too focused on chasing your high to be overly concerned about it. Sensing how close you were, Wanda pulled away from you, calling forth a keening whine from you. The older woman chuckled softly at your desperation. Her raspy voice next to your ear made you shudder. 

"Patience, dorogoya, I don't want you to come just yet unless it's in my mouth or on my fingers."

Wholly unprepared for her words as you were, they almost single-handedly threatened to ruin the witch’s plans as you nearly came on the spot. Wanda was aware that you had likely never edged before, and while she should have shown some mercy, she found no enjoyment in that prospect. Her intention was to have you so drunk for her to the point where you would become a helpless, trembling wreck, willing to do anything she desired just to reach that peak. Then, she planned to repeatedly push you off that ledge so many times that you would be a boneless, quivering mess for her by the time she was done with you.

As her words hung in the air, you felt a mixture of anticipation and hesitation. This was a new territory for you, one that you weren't entirely sure of what you were getting into. But as you looked into Wanda's eyes, filled with desire and a touch of mischief, you couldn't deny your feelings. You wanted to experience everything she was willing to show you, to give yourself fully and trust in her to guide you through this journey of pleasure.

With a deep breath, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, "I trust you, Wanda."

A smug smile played on Wanda's lips as she gently held your cheek. "Good," she purred, her voice laced with satisfaction. "I promise you won't regret it. Now, let’s take this to the bed.” She didn’t want your first time together to be rutting up against a wall.

Wanda grasped your hand, leading you the remainder of the distance to your shared bed. Once there the witch assisted you in removing the remnants of your clothes, gently pushing you backwards onto the bed. Before joining you, she took a moment to admire your naked body, as you looked up at her with a combination of desire and excitement. You were uncertain of her intentions, but the fact that you were willing to trust her filled Wanda's heart with joy.

With a gaze that could only be described as ravenous, she studied you and quietly uttered a curse. "Fucking exquisite" she husked, hoping to drive home her words from earlier.

Squirming under her intense gaze, you blushed deeply at her compliment. No one had ever called you that before, not in your entire life. The longer you laid there, alone under her scrutiny, the greater your need for Wanda grew. Before you could ask her to rejoin you, she was already removing her own clothes with purpose. You waited with bated breath, as Wanda revealed her body which you swore could have been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. Honestly, you thought it was a little unfair for someone to look so perfect. You felt absolutely privileged to be in this moment with her, that she had chosen you of all people to witness her glory. No one you had ever seen, in person or even on tv could compare. Wanda was a goddess, and you wanted to worship at her altar.

The redhead knew she was an attractive woman, but your loud thoughts were giving her quite the ego boost. She had you right where she wanted you, but Wanda would be damned if she allowed your self-deprecation to continue. There was not a single doubt in her mind that you were equally deserving to be here with her.

“Your thoughts are loud, malyshka.” She almost giggled at how red your face turned when she called you out, reminding you of her powers, and your gaze dropped.

 “While I’m flattered, darling, you need to know.” Wanda said with certainty as she began crawling up the bed towards you. Once she had crawled up the length of your body, the witch trailed her fingertips along your thigh, and up your torso to your face. Curling a graceful finger under your chin, she tilted your face upwards until you made eye contact.

“You are stunning, lyubov moya. There is no one else I would want to be here with right now. Not in the entire multiverse, believe me, I’ve looked. No one but you. Can you trust me on that, Y/N?”

Green eyes searched Y/E/C for any sign of lingering insecurity. With the witch looking at you so earnestly, your doubts faded into the background. They would likely never be completely silent, but in this moment, those thoughts were just white noise. Speaking was currently too difficult for you so instead you simply nodded at her words.

No longer able to hear your uncertainty as loudly, Wanda felt you were ready to continue. “Good, but just to make sure, I’m going to show you.”

Before you could ask what she meant, Wanda kissed you again. Her hand, which was previously under your chin, caressed down your chest and cupped your breast. She gave it a gentle squeeze, causing a soft sound to escape your throat.

As Wanda's touch re-ignited the flicker of pleasure within you, her lips and tongue traced a path of heated kisses down your neck, leaving a hot trail of saliva behind. Her skilled hand continued to explore your body, evoking an oeuvre of gasps and moans. Eventually, her lips settled on one of the places you desired the most, enveloping your nipple.

Once Wanda's lips closed around your hardened bud, a jolt of pleasure shot through your body, causing you to arch your back in response. Her tongue teased and circled the sensitive bud, sending ecstasy pulsating through your veins. While Wanda continued to lavish attention on your aching nipple, her other hand trailed down your body, caressing and exploring every inch of your skin. The combination of her skilled touch and the intense pleasure coursing through your body made it difficult to think or focus on anything else. 

Her hand continued its exploration, gliding over your skin with a feather-light touch. Every brush of her fingertips, each flick of her tongue against you sent your arousal to new heights. Your senses were completely consumed by her, the world around you fading once again into a distant blur.

Completely at Wanda's mercy, you found yourself basking in her every touch and caress. The pleasure she was bestowing upon you was the best high you had ever felt, addictive and irresistible. Your mind was filled with a primal need, a craving for more of the pleasure that only she could provide.

Wanda switched breasts, moving to lavish attention on the other one ensuring it didn't feel neglected. Her hand continued to tease your flesh, raising goosebumps to form on your skin. 

Unable to sit still, your own hands came up to tangle themselves in the redhead’s hair. Head held firmly in place by you, Wanda's hand slid lower, exploring the wetness that had pooled between your thighs. Svelte fingers teased your entrance, and you gasped as the anticipation nearly undid you.  Back arched, begging for more, you whispered a “please!”

Helpless to deny your plea, Wanda's fingers dipped inside you, your slick allowing them to slide in with ease. You moaned lowly as she began to move her fingers in a slow, deliberate rhythm, curling and stroking against your most sensitive spots. The pleasure built within you, radiating through your body like an electric current.

Your hands tightened in her hair, pulling her closer to you as your hips instinctively rocked against her hand, seeking deeper pleasure. Wanda matched your movements, her pace increasing, driving you closer to the edge. Her lips found yours once again, swallowing your moans as the pleasure consumed you.

The room was filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the wet, almost obscene sound of her fingers moving inside you, and the symphony of your pleasure. Each stroke of her fingers sent you spiraling further into this rapturous euphoria, your body trembling with desire.

Lost in the carnality of the moment, you could feel the heat building within you, the pressure mounting until you were teetering on the edge. Sensing your imminent release, Wanda's fingers quickened their pace, driving you towards oblivion. Moans growing louder, they mingled with the sound of your ragged breaths.

“Are you gonna come for me baby?” She asked, voice dripping sweetly with lust, not letting up the pace even a little. The woman knew what she was doing to you, and couldn’t resist drawing it out just a bit. 

Beneath her, you squirmed and bucked in place, desperation eeking off you in waves. You hadn’t exactly had many partners to begin with, and you had certainly never been especially vocal with any of them. Wanda couldn't have you being all shy on her now though. She wanted to hear each and every sound she could possibly draw out of you as proof of how good she was making you feel, her fingers hitting that special spot deep inside of you that had always been just out of your own reach.

“Now dorogaya, use your words. Are you going to be a good girl and come for me? If you can’t answer me then I guess I should stop.” Wanda slowed her pace and you all but wailed your frustration.

“Yes, yes I’m going to come. I’m so close, Wands, please don’t stop!”

Truthfully that should have been enough for her but sadistically she wanted to push your boundaries further still. She smirked at your pleas. 

“I won’t stop, Y/N, but you can’t come until I give you permission.”

You didn’t think you had ever been on such a precipice of euphoria before. It was right there if only Wanda would let you. Part of you wanted to ignore what she said and let yourself go, but the part of you that yearned to be good for her won out in the end. 

You begged pitifully. “Please Wanda, please let me come! I’ll be your good girl, please, just let me come!” You would say anything the woman wanted as long as she would let you finally finish.

It was positively sinful how your submission made Wanda feel. She wanted to experience you like this every day for the rest of your lives. The tremor of your voice as you begged, how quickly and completely you accepted her commands, it was positively sublime.

“Well when you beg so prettily for me, how can I resist? Be a good girl, Y/N - come for me.” Her fingers curled deliciously, mercilessly hitting your new favorite spot. 

With Wanda’s permission, the world shattered around you as your orgasm crashed over. Your body convulsed with exquisite hedonism, every nerve ending alive with sensation. Wanda's name were the only words from your mouth as you rode the high, your orgasm careening over you in a tidal wave of pleasure.

For Wanda, feeling your wet heat tighten around her fingers, practically refusing to allow her to pull back to even help you through your peak, was so perfect. You didn’t know it, but it was enough to make Wanda topple over the edge alongside you, her head dropping to the crook of your neck while she whispered sweet nothings in your ear, struggling to bring you gently down from your high. 

As the aftershocks of your release subsided, Wanda gently withdrew her fingers, her touch lingering for a moment before she pressed a soft kiss to your lips. She held you close, her presence a comforting anchor as you came down from the heights of pleasure. You whimpered at the feeling of emptiness after being so joyously full.

Breathless and sated, you nestled into her embrace, feeling a profound sense of contentment and connection. And as you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt that this was just the beginning of something beautiful between you both. You had made the decision to trust Wanda with your body, heart, and soul, and in this moment, everything felt so right.

Wanting to return the favor, and make Wanda feel as good as you did, but as you tried to shift in her embrace, the former avenger simply held you tighter. Feeling rejected, you wilted in her arms. Perhaps you had already failed to live up to her expectations, so much so that she didn’t even want you to touch her. How heartbreaking to have failed so soon, to never get the chance to prove yourself.

Voice soft, Wanda alleviates your fears. “Not tonight, darling. Tonight was all about you. Rest with me for a little while, detka, I just want to hold you. May I do that, Y/N?”

Murmuring a quiet assent, you settled into the comfort Wanda provided. You both laid there, basking in the intimacy you both had just shared, feeling content and happy. It wasn’t long until your eyes began to droop, signifying you were about to nod off.

Sensing how close you were to sleep, the witch gently roused you. She giggled at your grumblings for the disruption but insisted you both needed to clean up. Shaking your head, you whined as you tried to hold her in place with you, unwilling to let her go for any reason. Wanda  had to actively restrain herself from cooing at your adorable stubbornness.

“Come on now, it’ll be just a few minutes and then we can go back to sleep, okay darling?”

Petulantly you shook your head, and Wanda full on belly laughed, holding you tightly to her while she did so. Her laughter was infectious, and you couldn’t help but chuckle as well, knowing you were being a bit ridiculous.

Eventually, both of you calmed down, and Wanda pulled away from your embrace, mentioning that she would be right back. You let her go, but you pouted the entire time she was in the bathroom. After a few moments, you could hear the sink running, and then the witch returned to you with a warm, damp washcloth in her hand. With an unprecedented level of care, Wanda cleaned between your legs, removing any trace of the night's activities, while being mindful not to overstimulate you.

“There we go, detka. All clean. Let me just throw this in the sink, and we can go to sleep.”

Doing exactly as she had said, Wanda quickly returned, swiftly maneuvering her way into the cozy bed beside you. With a few gentle movements, she skillfully arranged the soft sheets to envelop both of you, creating a warm and comfortable cocoon.

Once she was finished setting up the sheets, you wasted no time in crawling back into her arms, burying your face into the divot where her neck and shoulder met. You felt like you had been through the wringer, but in the best way. When she had gotten up to clean you both, with her no longer being in your arms, your emotions had run all over the place. Now all you wanted was to be as physically close to the redhead as possible, to reassure yourself that she wasn’t abandoning you after such a vulnerable act.

Wanda was not at all opposed. Quite thrilled in fact, and as she held you, one hand came to gingerly trace random shapes along the side of your face, whispering nonsensical words of love and solace. Pillowy lips placed a soft kiss to your forehead.

As you drifted off to sleep, feeling safer and happier than in your entire life, you heard Wanda whisper in her native tongue. You were curious, but too far gone to ask her what she meant.

“я так люблю тебя, дорогая. (I love you so much, darling.) I promise I will always keep you safe, and I will never let you go.”

A/N 2: ... Why do I have a higher word count for a chapter with smut than any other chapter? .... Reasons. We're going with "reasons". So uhhh... yay? nay? Yeet myself off a cliff? Also if anyone wants to be added to the taglist just lemme know in the comments.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

[coltrainbat]

MASTERLIST

✨Masterlist ✨

READ ME BEFORE YOU REQUEST

Please note I don’t write anything that is illegal or borderline inappropriate. This includes sibling smut, adult baby kink (I dont even know what its called), teacherxstudent relationships and anything else I deem off. I also havent been to high school for many years so even if it’s innocent fluff I do not write HS AUs. If you’re unsure just ask! Can even be anon and if you don’t get a reply to your request then it’s a no. I’m fine with Daddy kink and most sex stuff as long as it doesn't cross lines into over infantilising, acting like an actual baby. 

As much as I’d love to sit in my bed all day and write fics... I have a big girl job and answer my requests in order I receive them (lol OCD tings) and I cant start one until the other is done (again sorry OCD tings). So please note there is a 3 week ish turn around for requests at max. And sometimes if I get a good idea I’ll write my own first cause I have to get it out of my head. But if you want updates feel free to message me or I’ll post an update if I get caught up in life! 

I’m always up for a chat and am pretty active on here so you’re welcome to talk to me about whatever, ask questions or just chat! Please note it’s an 18+ account and if you don’t specify that I won’t reply. 

Ty x

Clover ☘️

Dividers from the brilliant @firefly-graphics 💕

Gifs and images are not mine! 

KEY:

☁️ - Fluff 🔥 - Smut/NSFW 🌤 - Platonic 

🌧  - Tear Jerker / Sad

🌪 - Angst

SERIES: 

COMING SOON: Third Times A Charm | A Chris Evans X RDJ Sister!Reader (description here)

Take Me Home | Nick Vaughan X Reader:

Part 1 -  Meet Cute ☁️

Yes, No, Maybe | Chris Evans X Curvy!Reader:

Part 1 - Chris meets you and has to have you. ☁️🌪

Part 2 - your first date. ☁️

Part 3 (Virgin!Reader) - Chris takes your virginity 🔥☁️

Bubba | Dad!Chris Evans X Pregant/Mom!Reader):

Part 1 - You tell Chris he’s going to be a dad for the first time. ☁️🌧

Part 2 - Protective!DadChris ☁️

IMAGINES/ONE SHOTS & HEADCANONS:

Chris Evans

You’re Mine (Curvy!Reader) - You’re Chris’s FWB and you wonder if you’re the only one 🔥☁️

All Worth It (Curvy!Reader) - You and Chris go public with your relationship. ☁️

Chris Evans Alphabet (Curvy!Reader) - smut implied but mainly fluff. ☁️

Chris Evans Alphabet NSFW - 🔥

What A Girl Wants - You’re a str!pper and Chris wants you for the night. 🔥

Happiest Man Alive - You’re a florist and Chris proposes at the Oscars ☁️

No One Disrespects Chris’s Girl - A journalist insults you to Chris’s face. 🌪

Best Birthday Ever (Curvy!Reader) - You usually dread your birthday but Chris has a surprise in stall. ☁️

Bed. Now. - Finals week has hit but Chris wants you to sleep. ☁️

Boston Boy Documentary - Your segment in Chris’s documentary. ☁️

Can’t Believe They’re Real - Chris is an ass guy but with tits like yours he cant help be obsessed.  🔥

Favourite Pillows - Chris’s favourite pillows are conveniently on your chest. ☁️

My Angel (Model!Reader) - You’re a Victoria Secret Angel ☁️

Because I Want You - Your bestie, Chris gets a bit jealous...  ☁️🌪

Cookie - Baking cookies doesnt go as planned.  ☁️🔥

High On You - You and Chris enjoy a joint together. ☁️

I’m in Chwarge (Blurb) - No one tells you whhat to do besides Chris ☁️🔥

Tik Tok Leggings - You could say Chris likes your new leggings… 🔥☁️

Eat Shit Ransom - You’ve got a huge crush on Ransom 🌪☁️

Pork or Pasta? - You meet Chris for the first time but arent so sure about him... 🌪☁️

Mint Condition - Captain America Roleplay  🔥

Sexiest Girl Alive (Curvy!Reader) - You get hate for your body and Chris comes to your defence. 🌪☁️

Headcanon!Chris Evans - Chris start to cheer his gf up. How? With stupid cheesy pick up lines ☁️

Steve Rogers 

I’m The Captain Now - Taking Steve’s virginity 🔥

Off to College - You & Steve send your little girl off to College ☁️🌧

Family Matters - Steve’s sister dies 🌧🌤 

Roped Up - Steve ties you up 🔥

Soxs - You get Steve a cat to help with his nightmares. ☁️

Prettiest Girl In The World (PreSerum!Steve X Plussize!Reader) - Steve thinks you’re the best even if you don’t. 🔥☁️🌧

Get A Life - Shortsized!Reader working for Bruce Banner as a lab assistant and Steve has a total crush on her. ☁️

Frank Adler 

Disneyland - You and Frank take Mary to Disney ☁️

Put It On My Tab - Frank introduces Female Bartender!Reader and introduces her to his niece. ☁️

Andy Barber

What To Wear (Curvy!Reader) - Andy helps you find a shirt that fits for your date night. ☁️

Sparks Fly - Soulmate AU ☁️

You’re Sick (Blurb) ☁️

Our Home - Laurie shows up unannounced. 🌪☁️

Knock Knock - You surprise Andy at work. 🔥

Lloyd Hansen

You’re Not Sorry - You act like a brat but Lloyd is going to make you pay for it. 🔥🌪

Ari Levinson

I’ll Take Care of You - Ari is married to your sister but he has you on on his mind. 🔥

Neighbours - You get very friendly with your neighbour, Ari.  🔥

Ransom Drysdale

Good Bunny - Ransom wants to explore the hole God can’t see... 🔥

Liam Hemsworth

Nostalgia - You and Liam reunite but its a little different now. ☁️🌪

[lahooozaherr]

I Will Always Find You

Chapter 4

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: angst, fluff, yearning, pining, shooting a blaster with Mando (aaaaaay) vague description of dress on reader (listen, I said it was “traditional Naboo” dress but I don’t know if such thing exists I just love that dress Padme wears by the lake lol but I’m leaving it as vague as I can incase y’all want to imagine something else, I only describe having an open back) (wanted to give Mando some skin, ok), reader runs hand through hair and has strand brushed away but no actual description of hair, Din tries to not have sexy thoughts lol

MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.

My tag list (instructions & requirements)

Summary: You and the Mandalorian spend part of your “hooky” day relaxing in a place special to you. Later, he helps you get ready for the festival. Both of you are full of conflicting emotions as realizations surface and the end of the week looms.

A/N: Welp, this is getting done later than I intended. I recently visited my grandpa who is in the dying process. I had a good weekend with him and my family and tbh I thought I would be writing/reading in my spare time then but it didn’t end up happening, but that’s ok! I was able to come up with more things I wanted to add to it before so I hope everyone enjoys it. I promise we’re getting close to the smut lol I just have story building I gotta do. Also, I realized I already messed up the timeline I was trying to work with so look forward to me fixing that when it becomes more relevant. And by timeline I mean, it def takes more than a week between this and the flashback opening of the first chapter, so I’ll edit that. I’ve also been doing my best to leave reader and some other things as vague as I can but if that starts to sound weird pls tell me, I just want anyone reading to be able to see themselves in this. I also fixed the series master list banner since I kept have nagging feelings about the pictures I originally chose lol.

Song Inspo: Unfair by The Neighborhood

Inspo Playlist

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

Din only really has himself to blame for getting himself in this position, he tells himself.

He was almost immediately mesmerized by you, and he let his heart and not his mind take the reins. That was mistake number one.

He went from experiencing loss, trying (and failing) to cope with that grief, to here. With you. He knows he has to face his feelings, because meeting you has flipped his inner world upside down. 

Every night he leaves you, images of you replay at the forefront of his mind’s eye. At first he’d brushed it off, chalking this up to some playful banter with a bored princess. But then he entertained it, learned more about you, watched you, and found himself enchanted by you. 

Somehow you had made your way through the cracks of his armor. Not exactly his Beskar, but the one he built around his heart. 

He hasn’t slept much tonight, opting to use this time to reflect and at least try to gather himself. He can no longer ignore what you do to him. How the sound of your voice has become music to his ears. How your touch sends electricity throughout his body from your delicate squeezes in the spaces of his arm that are not covered in Beskar. The way your eyes almost always find his own, despite the helm covering.

When he saw you help that lost child, when you opened up to him about your own mourning and conflicted emotions about your position, he almost snapped. Something possessive, or maybe more so protective, wanted to wrap himself around you. Prevent you from having to do this anymore. He could tell you didn’t want this. Maybe you wouldn’t say it, and he couldn’t out loud, but he could feel it.

He doesn’t know what to do with his own life and hasn’t for a really long time. Now, he’s coming to terms with his feelings, and desire, for you. 

But the life he leads isn’t a life for you. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself. This life is dangerous…..and lonely. He knows he couldn’t ask you to become his just as much as you can’t, or won’t, abandon your position. It’s easier to accept that answer over the latter.

He’s let this go too far, but he can’t help it. You bring something out in him that he tried to forget he had. It’s like he simultaneously knows he can’t make you his, and that’s he’s too scared to. Which is saying a lot; a Mandalorian afraid? But not just over anything. Over experiencing that kind of love and then losing it. He can’t go through that, on top of the rest, it’s too much. 

Yet Din ignores his instincts and indulges in you. He wishes your affectionate glances were reserved for only him, and no one else. 

Catching you yesterday was almost the final straw, taking every fiber of his being to not rip away the garment bag that separated your bodies. His helmet picked up on the wild thrum of your heartbeat; and maybe he wasn’t certain how you felt but it had to mean something, right? Even if neither of you can say it. 

For now, he will force himself to settle for what he has with you until this job is done. 

—————————————————————————

“Mando?”

Din is wrenched out of his head, coming back to himself. Both of you are on a small boat steered by a droid, him across from you. He must have been lost in his thoughts on the short sail to the area you spoke of. 

You wave a hand across his helmet’s eye-line, “hey, are you in there?”

He cocks his helmet, turning back to you, “where else would I be?”

You let out an amused huff but your eyes search his helmet, concerned but observing. Returning your hand back to your lap, “is something wrong?”

“No, Cyare.”

Your face heats up, looking away quickly thinking he wouldn’t notice. It brings him instant satisfaction, the way he flusters you sometimes. The boat comes to a stop as you stand to gather the basket you brought with you. 

“One of these days, I’m going to find out what those names mean.”

Din carefully stands in the boat, stepping over the side to the dock as it approaches, “you can sure try.”

Although, the thought of you finding out has Din’s face heated, another moment to be thankful for the helmet. 

He steps up onto the dock, connected to the other side of the lake you departed from. An expansive field full of greenery and flowers, surrounded by a forest in the short distance. It was tranquil and private, just like you had described to him. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You remark, maneuvering your way out of the boat until his hand drops in front of you, offering help. You stop first, looking up to him to smile before taking it. His strong arm helps lift you out of the boat, effortlessly.

“I would come here to just be alone,” you continued on as you adjusted the basket and yourself. You decided on wearing a simple set of a tunic and leggings for this portion of the day, saying you’ll change later. The combination hugged your body’s curves in a way the dresses didn’t and Din certainly didn’t mind. 

He mentally scolds himself for wandering towards such thoughts. 

He follows you as you trek through the field, heading deeper towards trees that provide shade. Picking a spot, you drop the basket and plop down next to it. Sighing and stretching your legs before settling to lean against a tree, you close your eyes and inhale. Din lowers into the spot next to you, facing the view. 

Several quiet moments pass before you speak up again, “my mother found this place.” This caused Din to look at you, waiting for you to say more. You look into the sky, tightening your lips, not quite smiling and not frowning either.  

“It means a lot to you,” Din states. At this point he could tell how sentimental certain things were to you, he has very few things like that for himself. 

“It’s special to me, there’s a lot of good memories here. Time spent with her, many books….the first place I learned how to shoot a blaster.”

Din snorts before he realizes he’s even done it, you smile, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“You? You can shoot a blaster?” He teases, emphasizing the first ‘you’.

“Are you underestimating me, Mandalorian?” Batting your lashes at Din. He can hear his heartbeat in his helmet while trying to conjure an image of you, aiming a blaster in hand.

“No….” He trails off. Your eyes trained on him with a determined expression. “I just don’t expect a princess to know how to shoot.”

“Well Mando, it looks like there’s even more for you to discover about me.”

“Alright, prove it,” he shifts to stand. He offers his hand again and you take it, firmly. When you completely stand, you're closer than he had originally intended and he can feel the tense air between you. He brushes a thumb across your knuckles before letting go. 

You give him a sly grin while motioning your hand towards him, “alright, hand it over.”

“Hold on, let’s find a better spot.”

The two of you don’t stray too far, walking into the small forest behind the tree you were previously leaned up against. Din stops and points to a different tree just a few feet away, “hit the middle of that one.”

Usually, Din wouldn’t be so keen as to just hand anyone his weapons. But, you weren’t just anyone, were you? He sets the blaster in your hand, switching off the safety. 

“Thank you,” you mutter, situating the blaster in your dominant hand, with the other coming up to steady it. 

Raising your shoulders, you assume your stance and level the blaster for aiming. He watches from behind, arms folded and observant. So far he could say you’re doing everything you’re supposed to and is already impressed, not that that shows. 

Taking a deep breath through your mouth and out your nose, your supporting hand drops and your finger twitches on the trigger. In a split second, the blaster fire perfectly hits the middle of the tree. Lowering the blaster, you let out a “Hah!” You puff your chest with pride, looking back at Din for his reaction. 

If Din didn't think he was in trouble before, he definitely is now. He hadn’t realized just how attracted he would be to a trait like that in YOU, and suddenly the armor is too hot for him.

He almost can’t bring himself to say anything in response, it feels like his heart jumped into his throat. A self-satisfied look on your face as you set your other hand on your hip, “you seem…speechless? Hard to tell.”

You were right, and that was saying a lot for Din, considering he’s not much with words to begin with. He quietly clears his throat and reaches to take the blaster from your outstretched arm, “Count me impressed.”

You beamed, but this time it’s shy as you try to look away from him as he takes the blaster. He’d tell you that was cute if that wasn’t so out-of-character for him. 

“What made you take this up?” Din asks as you return to your spot on the grass. 

“Father said ‘pick a form of self defense’ and that was my choice,” you mimic your father’s voice and shrug. “I just happened to hit it off with blasters, and now I prefer them.” 

“But have you ever actually had to use one?”

“No. I guess, fortunately?”

A silence falls, you fidget with your hands as he settles next to you, once again. 

“I know that part isn’t impressive,” you add, dejectedly.

“It’s not bad. I’m glad you haven’t had to yet,” Din then turns his head towards you. “Any more surprises?”

Your lips curl at the edges, biting your lip and stifling a giggle, “for now.” You wink at him and turn to dig through the basket you brought with, setting out various fruits. 

Din’s eyes focus on the food but says nothing. 

“Don’t worry,” you assure him, while taking a bite out of one you’d chosen. “It’s just in case you want it. I felt rude not at least trying, I can give you privacy if needed.”

Din mulls the thought in his head for minutes, considering the setting. He feels a twinge in his stomach, anxiety coming up as he shoves it back down. He’s grateful for how understanding you are when it comes to his boundaries. He hasn’t been given a lot of that when it comes to his helmet and his creed. The galaxy so far has insistently been against him when it comes to those. 

“I appreciate it,” he says. 

—————————————————————————

You choose for today, and just today, you’ll pretend. Pretend your obligations don’t exist, that you’re not a princess. That you’re just you, someone capable of being so much more than what she’s just been slated in life. Capable of being more with Mando. 

That’s when the realization finally sets in, just how deeply you’ve found yourself in love with him. You realize it’s only been several days since you’ve met him, you haven’t even seen his face! But that didn’t matter to you, you have never felt so drawn to and comfortable with someone before in your life. 

You also can’t say you didn’t let it happen, and it’s tragic almost. It didn’t help that the two of you had almost immediately fell into a rhythm together. Two stars in sync with each other’s gravitational pull, becoming a careful dance.

You can’t be with him, and he can’t be with you. But that’s assuming he feels the same way, and that you’re not really sure of. It might be better to not know. You can’t abandon your life, and he shouldn’t have to worry about you.

It hurts immensely. 

“Here, I’ll do this,” you say, shifting your body to sit back to back with him. “I can’t see you this way, and I won’t look.” 

Mando says nothing at first, visor trained on the spread you’d set out. His lack of response causes you to feel insecure. 

“I’m sorry, maybe that’s too much-“

“No. You’re fine. It works.”

You give him a small nod before turning back to face away from him. You focus your eyes on anything else; trees, hills, the sky. You hear a hiss escape from where you feel him shift to lift his helmet and your heart stops. How would it be to see that face? But you would never betray that trust he’s just displayed. 

Mando doesn’t completely remove the helmet, just lifting it enough to take bites of the fruit you’ve laid out. Fair enough, though. Whatever works for him and makes him feel most comfortable is more important to you. 

Moment’s of peaceful silence pass as you take in the sounds and scenery around you while partaking in some of the fruit you snagged. Beautiful, lush green forest and fields, a clear and beautiful sky, the silent chewing from your armored companion. You wish you could live in this moment forever.

Reality finds ways to drift back into your thoughts though, always somewhat present and hard to escape. You let out a quiet sigh, leaning your back against his. You feel him tense up, subtly. But before you can think twice about it, he relaxes back into it, giving you a small amount of physical contact. You’re relieved he allows you this.

‘I’m glad we did this,” you break the silence. “I needed a break, as brief as it may be.”

“Thank you for including me,” he says in his unfiltered voice, helmet still lifted. Your heart in your chest speeds up from hearing it. As much as you love his voice with the modulator, the actual, naked sound is music to your ears. His voice is still low but with a rich timbre. 

Worrying your bottom lip, you lean your head back onto his shoulder. He allows for that as well, maybe indulging you. It’s comforting, but also sad. 

“There’s a chance I could not become a senator, like my father.”

Mando stills, “Is that so?”

“Sort of,” you begin to explain. “We still have democratic elections. There’s a possibility of me not being elected.”

Mando gives a low hum, “What would you do then?”

A million ideas including him run through your mind at that question, but you don’t say. “Technically I’d still be serving in some capacity, it’s how our family has always worked.” Part of you had hoped he'd have something to offer, more to say to that.

It’s quiet again, this time more somber. You’d been thinking about this detail for a while, and it still felt like no way out, and you feel ashamed for even trying to look for one. Mando doesn’t respond yet, replacing his helmet to its normal position. 

You sit up and turn back to him, looking into his visor. Helmet already trained on you. 

“Thank you,” he all but whispers, barely picked up by the modulator. You give him a gentle smile in response, “Of course.”

After the afternoon had worn on some more, and some comfortable quiet moments had passed as the two of you relaxed together, you signaled it was time to go. 

Your heart tightens in your chest at the thought of every minute passing, becoming less and less time with him. You’ve tried hard to not focus on that, nor show that emotion. You want to enjoy the time you have left.

—————————————————————————

You and Din return to your suite at the palace, stopping just before the door. He assumes his regular place in front, waiting to watch you disappear inside for the time being. 

But you don’t go inside, you stop just at the threshold. You stop in your tracks, seemingly contemplating something. You turn back to him, avoiding his gaze but also not as you start to run a hand through your hair. 

“You can come in to wait for me…..if you want.” 

It’s silent again, but tense. Din can feel his heart in his throat now, mouth dry as he tries to swallow it back down. His resolve crumbles enough for him to step forward, towards you. In his usual fashion, saying nothing, he strides past you into your living space. You step to the side to allow him in and he nods to you on the way. 

Upon entering your temporary living space, he takes in the details of proof that you’ve been there. One side of the room is a luxurious, wide bed with accompanying side tables, a couch sits at the end of the bed. Across the room from there is a table with books, a rack of clothing, a vanity and dressing screen for your privacy. 

“The couch is probably the most comfortable,” you mention as you saunter past him. “Make yourself at home.”

Din does so, looking out-of-place as he cautiously sits in the middle of the soft couch. Posture straight and gaited, he looks as stiff as he feels. He is painfully aware of the effect of the whole situation on the inside of his flight suit. It’s not that he’s uncomfortable, he just never expected to be in such a private setting with you.

It’s been too long since he’s felt this kind of need and genuine desire, and that also scares him. He feels like a doomed man, mentally cursing to himself that if only you had met under different circumstances. 

You press a button on a panel on the wall near the dressing screen and all lighting in the room fades to a softer, yellow hue. You step behind the screen, bending to start removing your shoes. 

Din has to suppress the almost audible gulping sound that leaves him when he realizes he can see your silhouette through the dressing screen. He doesn’t know if you know he can see you like this and is too stunned to even say. 

“I’m happy we happen to be here right as this festival is happening,” you state. “I haven’t been to it since I was a teenager.”

He watches your shadow begin to undress, slowly peeling off your layers one by one until you’re in your underwear. Your hands move to undo the clasp on your chest band, causing an audible ‘snap’ noise. You move sideways, emphasizing a perfect outline of your front and back. He imagines your breasts must be as soft and enticing from their outline in the shadow. 

He feels a twitch in his flight suit pants then immediately seeks to contain that by resting his ankle on his knee, bouncing it repetitively to keep himself ‘busy’. He almost jumps out of his skin as you walk to the edge of the screen, only to stop just before the end and reach your hand and naked arm to the rack where the garment bag you picked up yesterday hung, plucking it.

It’s certainly not out of place for him to have nothing to say, because at the moment he can’t even muster a word. He’s way too distracted now and hopes you’re not looking for a response.

You maneuver yourself into the dress, swaying your hips side to side to slide the fabric over your body. Din unconsciously flexes his hands, imagining how those hips would feel beneath them. 

When you finish fitting the dress onto yourself, you emerge from behind the screen. When you notice him, your expression is curious and he fears he’s been caught until you ask, “are you ok?”

Din crosses his arms and stands abruptly, guarding the subtle expressions of his body language as much as he can. Give offers a curt, “Yes.” He immediately notices how flattering the dress is on you, laying perfectly with your back being the most exposed. 

You narrow your eyes at him briefly and turn to seat yourself at your vanity. Din takes the opportunity to roam the small space, observing the table of books and reading material from the event that had been unceremoniously placed there. 

You adjust yourself in the mirror of your vanity, fixing your hair. You look back at yourself with a determined look, twisting your arms to place your hair where you need it. Din watches your meticulous routine from behind, eyes flitting between your actions and yourself in the mirror. You can see him in the reflection as you work. 

“It won't be too long, but it’s a process,” you murmur, moving to grab various pieces of makeup to apply. 

Din can barely manage to offer any words as he imagines what it would be like to casually approach you, placing reverent kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he finally says. 

You shoot him a questioning look where you see him in the reflection of the mirror, “are you sure you’re alright?”

Din forces himself to visibly relax, it’s uncanny how well you’ve been able to pick up on his mannerisms since you’ve met, “everything is good with me.” He feels like he sounds unconvincing and your lingering eyes in the mirror don’t help. You shrug and return to your tasks.

That companionable silence has returned as Din watches you apply your makeup, you mutter to yourself absentmindedly here and there as you move to each next piece. Some time passes before you set down your items and pat your lap, giving yourself a last look over in the mirror before standing. 

The way you look takes his breath away. He was almost shocked when he first saw how casual you’d chosen to be today but loved it all the same. He loved seeing another side of you and right now is no exception either. He felt domestic just from being allowed to watch you put yourself together. 

He wants to take you apart. 

—————————————————————————

“Well?” You query Mando as you turn side to side to get a good look over yourself in the mirror. “Do I look alright?”

He’s paused then steps closer behind you, looming over your shoulder at your reflection, you look at him. You feel your heart rate quicken under what feels like his eyes raking over you. It takes everything in you to resist the urge to turn into him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Beautiful,” he offers the one-worded response, but that's all that needs to be said. 

You turn to him, smiling, staving off a heat that threatens to take over your cheeks, “thank you.” He cocks his helm to the side in response. 

You stride past him, noticing his helmet visibly follow. You sway your hips ever so slightly as his visor scans you up and down. Getting closer to your door, you look back and flash him a grin and gesture with a nod, “I saw that.”

“No you didn’t,” he throws back at you, sarcastically. You snicker in response, “Come on, shiny man.”

Mando stalks towards you and stifles a chuckle, “I get a nickname too?”

“I tried, not sure how I feel about that one.”

“Not as fun as mine, mesh’la.”

—————————————————————————

The festival is bustling, vendors sell their wares and trinkets while others offer delicious and exotic street foods. There are large displays of flowers and accompanying decorations across the town and performers scattered entertaining the masses. 

You point out these things to Mando as you stroll through, your hand back in its place in the crook of his elbow. He doesn’t have much to say but you know he’s invested in your excitement and what you say. 

Here and there you'd explain the meaning behind certain displays and performances to educate him. You figure you can do the same for him as he’s done for you when he’d allowed you to poke at him about Mandalorian customs. You’d share similar traditions from your own planet and how they coincide with each other. 

You tried your best to be in the present and stop worrying about tomorrow, when you’ll inevitably have to say goodbye to the Mandalorian. You’re going to miss the camaraderie the two of you had unknowingly built together in the short amount of days. You’ve never found someone so in sync with you. 

Regardless if he has similar feelings, it’s heartbreaking all the same. It’s too scary at this point to ask. If you’ve learned anything about him this past week, it’s that his actions speak louder than his words. Although it seems he reserves many of those words and actions just for you. A self-indulgent thought you keep tucked in your heart. 

Day slowly turns into night, the sun giving way to a beautiful, pink setting in the sky. You finish up a snack you’d bought earlier as you nod at Mando, “fireworks should be soon, we should find a good spot.”

“Fireworks, huh? They really go all-out here.”

“It’s Naboo,” you laugh. “What do you expect?” 

“Do you have a spot for that too?”

You scoff in response, “of course I do.”

And that you did. It’s a bold move, but you offer him your hand, “follow me.” He takes your smaller hand in his gloved one, and it feels warm. Safe. 

You lead him along, navigating through other festival-goers until you find yourself in front of part of the forest that lines the city. He doesn’t question it though, and you bring yourselves to a small path in. When you’ve arrived, you’re at a small clearing on the side of the larger lake the show will display over. 

“I never doubted you,” he proclaims. You feel like you can ‘hear’ a smile in his tone. You turn your nose up with a ‘hmm!’. You hear a faint chuckle that barely escapes his helmet’s modulator. 

The sun is finally set, giving way to a beautiful, clear night sky. You take in a deep breath of air and admire it, smiling to yourself. You look down and notice he’s still holding your hand. You don’t say anything or move it, for fear of ending the small contact. He doesn’t try to break it up either. 

One by one, lights lift into the sky and explode. The fireworks are bright and loud and your spot is the perfect and more private place to view them. You instantly become entranced in them, their reflections flash in your eyes.

You suddenly feel a familiar shift in energy, one that you’ve been feeling all week. From the times you feel his eyes on you for long periods of time. Sometimes even when his helmet isn’t exactly pointed towards you. A feeling almost hard to explain, you just know. But you don’t turn to face him just yet, preening under what feels like his warm gaze, while you can. These last few moments are difficult to approach, no matter how hard you shove back the emotions.  

What will it be like after tomorrow? Will you feel a hole in your chest? A part of your heart that knows and wishes to know him that will forever be empty? Will you always spend the rest of your life asking “what if”?

You finally turn to him and he does the same. But there are no words. You’re both silent, save for the sounds of fireworks in the background. You look into his visor and admire the reflection of the bright, colorful explosions that play out on his helmet. It’s beautiful. 

A tension builds between you, again. But what could be said? It’s too painful to say out loud. You’ll have to speak through your actions, just as he does. 

You slowly lift the hand you’re still holding, cautiously bringing it to place over your chest where your heart pounds. You fear it might be too much when his hand stills, but then relaxes in place underneath yours. You just want him to feel your heartbeat, and he acquiesces. 

But he surprises you again, after a moment passes, holding his hand over your heart. He brings his other hand up to remove his glove, carefully plucking from his fore and middle finger, sliding it off then placing it in his pocket. 

With his now bare hand, he gently tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. Instead of bringing his hand back, he caresses the side of your face. You can feel him hesitate at first, hovering slightly above your cheek, seeking silent permission. You oblige by nuzzling into his palm, relishing the feeling of his bare skin on yours.

The setting is calm but the storm in your chest is otherwise and you wish you could remain like this. Tomorrow is coming too soon, it’s too much. But you know, and he knows. 

When the show ends, the two of you remain that way for a short while after. You can’t bring yourself to end it any sooner but after some time, you decide to rip off the bandaid. When you slightly move from his hand, he returns it to himself but without putting the glove back on. 

When you return to your room, after a solemn and quiet walk back, you swear you can still feel the warmth of his skin on yours. It’s all he can give right now and you’ll hold it dear to you. 

—————————————————————————

Settling down for the night, you walk around the room to fade the lights back to the yellow hue. You sit on the couch as you read the last of a book you’ve had your nose in for the last hour. You glance up, down, then quickly back up again when you notice the silhouetted shape of something from behind your dressing screen. 

Hurriedly putting the book down, you set for the screen to investigate. Behind it is the pile of clothes and one of your suitcases that had made up the shape. You realize, to your mortification, that anything behind casts a shadow than can be seen.

That means. That earlier. That he could. He could see- Oh MAKER. 

Mando'a Translated:

Mesh'la = Beautiful

Cyare = Sweetheart

@dindjarinsmut @impala1967666 @kittenlittle24 @angel-with-a-heart @leithatnight @i-usually-main-bards-tho @dins-riduur-anthe @fatima-marisa @lalalalemonade11 @n7cje

Next Chapter

[acatalystrising]

hi tysm for replying to my request i honestly wasn't expecting it but i just wanted to add a couple things if you're hitting some writers block or need some inspo if writing about your own experiences is too emotionally exhausting. 

/tw for dv (don’t have to read if it’s too much)

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in tdou the dad is guilt tripping the daughter about the mom's death, i'd like to read about a mom guilt tripping the reader about a grandmother's death as that’s unfortunately what’s happening to me. 

basically my mom & my grandmother abused each other during quarantine & the weeks before my grandmother died but she only claims it happened bc i didn’t “help out enough” (but she doesn’t work at all like the father in tdou)

i love that the reader in tdou was trying to do everything she could but it just drained her emotionally & physically

i related to that a lot as i had to basically play mediator whenever they would argue but sometimes i just couldn’t do it bc my moms yelling voice is triggering to me. she isn’t as physically abusive anymore but now she just chips away at my self worth whenever she has a bad day or sometimes before i go to work

i already carried a lot of guilt before my grandmother died bc i dropped out of college & wasn’t working at the time & now my mom just knows how to make it worse. 

i recently got her to apologize & recognize what she did was wrong but it just feels like she resents me now bc i called her out. the reader’s sense of inadequacy/powerlessness in tdou was highly relatable lol

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sorry if this was too personal & that this ask is so long but if it's too triggering/personal you can totally not include it. 

i really liked how scarily similar the readers situation in tdou was to mine & seeing how much ppl liked it made me feel less alone so maybe if you base this prompt off of my situation someone else can feel less alone too. If not it’s ok bc all of this is pretty heavy. 

but i really love how honest your work is otherwise. i have support in my life but like you said family trauma can be difficult to heal from so again sorry i don’t make a habit trauma dumping on ppl lol

but thanks so much for your writing. boba really is a comfort character for me

tysm for being understanding pls keep writing <3

Hey lovely anon! Firstly, I am SO sorry it’s taken so long for me to answer this. Life has been nuts and I really, really wanted to take my time writing something for you. Trauma is awful and I am so truly sorry you’ve had to deal with so much. You deserve all the hugs in the world!

I’m so touched you enjoy my writing - I write Boba stories to process my own trauma, and they have majorly helped. I’m happy to hear that they help others, too. You aren’t trauma dumping at all, and I’m touched you made this request! So without further ado, here is what I came up with! I hope you enjoy it, and that if in any small way, it can help you feel a little less alone.

Trigger Warnings: Given the subject, I wanted to make sure everyone knows this contains potentially triggering content including: abusive mother, language, gaslighting, verbal abuse (both mentions of past and present), and physical abuse. This is a bit darker then some of my normal stuff, so please be aware! No smut, but lots of angst, fluff, pining, hurt comfort, and Boba being the protective gem we all love and adore.

I’ll Carry You

Daimyo Boba Fett x f!artist reader

Boba Fett, the Daimyo of Tatooine, was one of the broadest people you’d ever seen.

Strong, built like a warrior capable of crushing his foes, an unstoppable force. He was smart, too, boasting a cunning that spoke of his years as a merciless bounty hunter. He donned mandalorian armor that struck fear in hearts across the Galaxy…

And yet, you wondered if he would hold you gently.

Was there more depth to the man who was living legend? Clearly so, given that he’d saved your city from the Pyke’s destruction. You squinted, peering at the lovely shades of green, wondering how a color could be so calming and exciting all at once. Did he know that such a thing were possible? That his beskar was also beautiful, and not merely a symbol of terror?

A shout echoed down the dusty street and you flinched, concentration broken. Gone were the brilliant hues of green and red from your focus, replaced with the clay, beige tones of sand, stone, and earth.

You blinked, staring at your painting with a frown. Boba Fett, of course, wasn’t really here. Your image needed work before it was finished, but you hoped you’d be able to do a decent job. The Daimyo deserved it, you wagered, even if he never saw it.

Stars, of course he wouldn’t see it. He was far too busy to spend the time ogling street art.

Of himself.

Kriff, this was a stupid idea.

Another shout rang through the air and you grimaced, hating that you had to leave your work unfinished for all to see, unable to be anything more than a random piece by an anonymous painter.

You dreamed of a day where you could proudly display your work for all to see, but as long as your mother had a say, you feared that they, like you, would never get the chance.

-

“Off daydreaming again,” your mother’s accusatory tone made you flinch. “I don’t know where I went wrong with you. I’ve been generous, gracious even. And how do you repay me?”

She paused, dark brows lowering over narrowed eyes.

“Are you even paying attention?”

“Yes, mom.” You looked up from the sewing machine, forcing your expression to remain neutral.

“No. More. Distractions.” She jerked a thumb at the pile of dishes beside her that seemed to grow on its own. “Do I make myself clear?”

You merely nodded.

Like you always did. As fate dictated you must. The last thing you needed was for her to go on another tangent again. Or for there to be another fight.

But life, as you’ve discovered, wasn’t that kind.

-

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

Kriff. As if your terrible day couldn’t get any worse.

You winced the moment you heard booted footsteps announcing someone’s entry. They were heavy, breaking the silence of the oddly quiet kaff shop - one that often bustled with customers trying to escape the heat of the mid-afternoon suns. But not today.

Too tired to muster more social energy, you kept your back turned, strands of hair falling in front of your eyes as you swept the shattered glass into your dustpan. The last thing you needed was another reason to get yelled at.

“Welcome to the Twin Suns, I’ll be with you in a moment,” you didn’t bother trying to sound overly polite. Not when your mother had made your day a living hell.

The footsteps neared, accented by a metallic clinking you could only assume were spurs. Now who the hell would bother to wear…

“I’m not here for a drink.” A deep, rumbling voice broke the silence, sending a cold chill down your spine. You barely suppressed a flinch as those booted footsteps stopped right behind you. “I have some questions.”

You turned much quicker than you would have liked - but that voice carried a commanding tone that made you act without thinking. There was only one person you could think of that would sound like…

Maker above, you were fucked.

Your own wide-eyed expression stared back at you, trapped in the unseen gaze of a black, t-visored helm. Even then, as you struggled to breathe, recognition flooded through you with the force of a punch. The owner took another booted step forward, so close you could touch him if you had a death wish.

Oh kriff, kriff, kriff.

It was Boba kriffing Fett. The Boba Fett. And now…your Daimyo.

You tried your best to suppress a blush. As if you hadn’t just been daydreaming about him earlier while you’d been painting him. Good kriffing maker, you had to get it together.

You’d seen him once or twice before, when he was out patrolling the city, but only from a safe distance. Now that he was here, in front of you, every fiber in your body screamed to run. The power the man exuded made your head spin. He was a living weapon, back from the dead - the most feared bounty hunter in the Galaxy.

And you were now trapped in his gaze.

“Heard someone caused a problem here,” Boba Fett’s iconic helmet slowly turned, taking in his surroundings before snapping back to you. “What’s their name?”

You blinked. Why the hell would the Daimyo care about a small shop’s domestic outburst? Surely he had better things to do. He surely wouldn’t be interested in the affairs of someone like you.

“Oh, it’s nothing…” you spoke timidly, far smaller than you intended, but you couldn’t help it, being in his presence. “It wasn’t a customer, or anything. I’m sorry.”

You hoped he’d let it go. Move on to more important things. The last thing you needed was to lose this job, or give your mother another reason to make your life worse.

Fett regarded you silently, arms crossed over a deadly blaster rifle, gloved fingers tapping a slow, steady cadence. Sweat beaded on your forehead and trickled down your temple. Would he shoot you for not answering his question?

He lifted a gloved hand and you flinched, but blinked in confusion when he gently wiped a tear from your cheek. When he spoke again, his voice was so oddly soft you were inclined to believe it didn’t belong to the same person.

“Not gonna hurt you. No one should be afraid in my city. Especially a pretty little thing like you…” his tone rolled through you, and you shivered, an altogether new feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. “Who did this to you?”

You could only swallow, throat dry, heart beating a million times a minute as you leaned the broom against the counter and shakily took a breath. You were so nervous you nearly tripped over your own foot as you looked back at the visor, more tears threatening to burst to the surface.

Damn it, keep it together. Don’t fall apart just because a stranger said something nice…

“It wasn’t anything you need to worry about.” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself to speak. “My mom just-”

A familiar voice suddenly cut over your own, hollering your name as if it were a curse. You flinched, turning in time to see your mother emerge from the back of the store, several big bags of kaff beans in her arms.

“Still wasting time or are you going to be useful?” She clearly didn’t see their guest, too focused on her destination. “I need your help, if I’m not asking too much.”

You glanced at the Daimyo apologetically, instinctively shifting to answer your mother’s request.

“She was speaking with me.” Boba Fett’s voice was nearly a growl when he spoke, taking a booted step forward.

A step, you noted, that placed him between you and your mother.

Who finally looked up. And promptly dropped her armful of product onto the floor with a curse. You flinched. Kaff beans rolled all over the wooden planks you’d just swept. Damn, this was going to be a long night.

“D-Daimyo Fett? Oh, oh. My goodness. Whatever can I do for you?” Her demeanor Instantly changed, shifting from accusation to groveling. “Apologies for the mess, we, we…”

“Perhaps you should apologize to your daughter.” Fett’s voice was nearly a growl, his words rolling with a lovely accent you couldn’t place. “She’s upset. Yelling won’t fix that.”

Your jaw dropped. Your mother smothered a glare. Oh, this was not going to end well.

“I, well, I…” she dipped her head, red flaring in her cheeks, but you knew it was anger. When she spoke again, it was the icy professionalism you also knew well. “Apologizes, Lord Fett. Can I get you anything? It’s such a long walk from the palace.”

But Boba Fett didn’t answer. The conversation was clearly over. Instead, he turned to face you, helmet tilted slightly to the side as he walked toward the door.

“I was just leaving, but,” he paused beside you, looking down from that impassive helmet, once again ensnaring you in his unseen gaze. “If you’re ever in need of employment, little one, come to my palace.”

Little one.

Somehow those two words made heat coil in your belly faster than any flirtatious word ever could.

You nodded, swallowing hard, only able to emit a squeak as he brushed against you as he walked by, long enough for you to catch a whiff of his scent - leather, metal, and residual blaster smoke. Stars, why was it so attractive? You’d never even seen his face.

You couldn’t deny there was something about the Daimyo that was…electrifying. But you weren’t given the chance to ponder it for long.

Boba Fett walked out of the shop’s door, and your nightmare started anew.

-

“I don’t know why I let you work here.” Your mother’s back was turned, but you could feel her glare cutting into you like daggers to your chest. “You embarrassed me in front of the Daimyo. What were you thinking? Was that a way to get back at me? Why do you have to be so childish?”

“I didn’t know he was coming either, mom.”

You stood with crossed arms, hovering as close to the door as you could, heart pounding even faster. “My shift is over. I need to go home. At least he wasn’t upset.”

“Well I am, but not that it matters. You’ve always been a disappointment.” Your mother raised a critical brow, lips twisting in a frown. “If you grandmother were still alive, she’d agree with me. But oh, wait, she can’t.”

Your day could, in fact, get worse.

“You never listen. Her death wasn’t my fault.” You sighed, an age old weariness settling in your shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. Never does.”

Your vision sparked as her fist connected with your face, shoving you backward into the glass door. It rattled violently, and you winced as your hand flew to the injury, fingers wet with blood. Damn. Not again.

“Entitled brat,” your mother shook her head and had the audacity to cry. It broke your heart, seeing her like this - but it was a ploy. You knew it. And it worked every single time. “What did I ever do so wrong? How did you turn out like this? I raised you better, I did.”

“Maybe you’re asking the wrong question,” you winced, turning your back on her as you opened the door. “What did I ever do so wrong to deserve this?”

Cheek stinging, heart breaking, you twisted and bolted out of the door before she could see your welling tears.

-

The moment you stepped out into the cool night air, you knew you weren’t alone.

You could feel it, the prickle of eyes on your back, and lowered your hand to the blaster at your hip. You’d already had a terrible day, but the last thing you needed was more trouble.

“That’s not necessary.” A familiar gravelly tone broke the silence. “Saw what happened.”

You turned, peering into the dark alley beside the kaff shop. At first you didn’t see anyone, but then the armored figure stepped from the shadows, beskar glinting in the moonlight. You reflexively took a step back, and he held his gloved hands up, empty.

“Meant what I said,” his voice was calm, steady, as if trying to calm her. “Not going to hurt you. You’ve been hurt enough already, from the looks of it.”

Oh.

“It’s…it’s fine,” you gingerly touched your brushing cheek with a soft wince. “I’ve dealt with worse. Please don’t hurt her. She’s…mourning. It’s a long story.”

Not that you figured he would really care. Most didn’t.

“There’s never a reason to hurt your own child.” Fett’s tone was soft, even as he took another step forward. “Will you come back here tomorrow?”

“I…don’t know.” You stiffed your hands in your pockets with a sigh. “It’s all I’ve got. I can’t just abandon her.”

He nodded, helmet tilting down toward her as if in thought. You found yourself staring up at him, transfixed by the deep red and green hues of his armor, even as he removed the helmet.

Dark amber eyes met yours, expression much softer than you had expected from a man of his profession. He was scarred, whirls of scar tissue branding his tan skin - but maker, he was gorgeous. Your jaw almost dropped, caught in his gaze, heart pounding like a drum as he closed the distance between you, a gloved hand softly cupping your chin.

“Don’t live your life for someone else’s grief, even if it’s shared.” His fingers gently stroked your jaw, and you found yourself leaning into his touch. Damn, he was dangerous - just not in the way you’d initially expected. “Why don’t you come back to the palace with me? Would be a change of scenery - I’ll pay you well.”

“To do what?” You’re frowned, too frustrated to be worried that you were being too bold. “Unless you don’t already have someone who can make coffee in that fancy palace of yours, I’m afraid I’ll be of no use to you.”

He lifted a dark brow, and you swallowed hard, suddenly remembering his hand was still on your chin, dangerously close to your throat. But when he spoke, there was no darkness - only a playful mirth.

“Perhaps you could finish that lovely painting you started, hmm?” Boba Fett, of all people, had the audacity to wink at you.

Your jaw dropped, stunned, even as he removed his fingers from your chin.

Wait a second.

He’d…actually seen it? And knew it was you? Kriff, had he been watching? Heat flooded your cheeks.

“Oh…oh, umm,” you ran a nervous hand through your hair, “you saw that? I didn’t mean to…”

He tutted, a soft click of his tongue, and dared to brush a loose piece of hair behind your ear with practiced ease.

“None of that, princess,” his tone was lower, rumbling through you. “I am honored you’d want to do something so kind with your talent. My palace could use more color. Something to lessen the drab and make it something new. What do you think?”

Stars, was this happening?

Not only was he interested in your work, but the Daimyo was very clearly interested in you.

You knew your mother who disagree. She’d be angry, too. But you’d spent too many years of your life trying to please her, knowing that would never happen. And now, Boba Fett of all people, wanted to set you free.

And so you nodded, unable to stop a smile from spreading on lips that were so often twisted in a frown, as the words you’d never imagined you’d be able to say tumbled from you mouth.

“Okay, I’ll come with you,” you nodded, meeting his gaze. “That would be…amazing.”

Boba Fett smiled, took your hand in his, and led you to the palace. To your future. Into a life you’d never thought were possible - one where for the first time ever, you were truly free.

Where you were loved.

[jimilter]

the odds on us is so good!! i really like how realistically you wrote the conflict and made it easy to feel for both tae and oc, i feel like in a lot of fics ppl can accidentally write either one as the only asshole for their actions/reactions. of course, i tend to swing to tae’s side bc i love him so much and it killed me to read him confess that his gambling addiction was bc he wanted to provide for her but felt ashamed that his acting career wasn’t taking off yet 😭 but at the same time i wouldn’t be able to handle seeing the love of my life possibly go to jail after not being truthful so i couldn’t blame oc at all. the ending was great too and i’m happy he was able to clean up his act on his own to prove he could for her even though he thought it was too late, i admit i’m a big fan of fics kicking him around just a little bit to make the comfort even better, but i’m worse than oc bc i would’ve folded immediately the first time he came back to the apartment for his stuff lmao i’m too weak for him. and of course, the smut was fantastic i read your jimin modeling fic some weeks ago and recognized your name, you write so vividly and detailed i was excited to see you wrote something for tae! i’m impressed how you made him flow so seamlessly from a miserable kicked puppy to an absolute demon lol. in short i loved it i hope you don’t mind my rambling but i just had to leave something 😁

hiiiiii, anon!!! okay first off - PLEASE never hesitate to ramble away omfg when i tell you i have been giddily giggling all the while as i read this 🥺 you're precious! 😭❤

made it easy to feel for both tae and oc

^ you have my entire hearT for saying this, anon! it's always always been a pet peeve of mine when one person is villainized behind a relationship's failing. like. okay, some people are shitty, but in most cases, esp in situations where circumstance causes separation bw the ppl, they're both in the wrong :( so thank you for this compliment, it's literally all i wished to accomplish w the fic <333

bro you and me botH are worse than oc bec resisting that cutie anD hottie for a whole year hellO? nope. couldn't be us 😔✋

aaaaaa you've read piom? 😭 i still can't decide if i'm proud or embarrassed of myself for that horny word vomit sheeSh :| but omg you're too kind! i try my best w smut and try to improve w every new fic. this one wasn't as up to the mark imo, needed a lil more descriptions and exploration of feelings... but i didn't wanna create a mammoth of 20k+ words so i just went w this. so happy to know you liked it still! 🥺

thank you so so much for reading the fic and sending your sweet, sweet thoughts my way, anon!!! pls, i love you so much ❤❤❤❤❤

[bratkook]

right now. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost , right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, smut, idiots to lovers!! word count. 14.8k warnings. two mega fucking idiots<33, miscommunication/dumb assumptions, smut in forms of: fingering, oral sex (f.), orgasm denial, spanking, some spit bc duh, unprotected sex, super sweet & lovey!! also jungkook is a sweetheart pls love him summary. coming to terms with your feelings after getting off to the idea of your close friend is a little harder than you thought, but how long can you take before jungkook decides its time to move on? note. did jlin forget how to write for a few weeks? yes, yes she did....i know this took a long time but life is rough man so forgive me... but anyways lol the final part to the not yet!verse is hereeeee! thank you to @kithtaehyung​ for reading this over for me ily!! thank you guys for enjoying this mini series, the response was really unexpected but im sososo happy over every comment/ask i’ve gotten for this story. once again, tysm for your love and let me know what you think<3

The evening sun illuminates Jungkook’s apartment, golden hour bouncing off every reflective surface and straight into his eyes the second he walks in, immediately squinting as he makes a beeline to shut the blinds. His head was already throbbing from the hangover that decided to peak around noon, a mean case of nausea putting a damper on his work day. So as much as he loved soaking in some vitamin D today was not the day. 

“Are you joking?” he huffs as he brings down the blinds, hand yanking at the flimsy string in an attempt to get it unstuck. “How stup—you’d think with the amount I pay every month in rent the blinds would work!” 

Alright, so maybe he was a little grumpy today, choosing to take it out on an inanimate object and blame it purely on the bad decisions made last night—definitely had nothing to do with the residual moping of you going on a date. This could be fixed, easily. 

The first order of business? Texting you to see if you’d be interested in devouring greasy food from your favorite place down the street. He’d get to see you and finally put something in his stomach, it’s the best of both worlds really. 

Jungkook forgets about the blinds, leaving them stuck in the awkward position as he walks away entirely, fishing his phone out of his pocket while he enters his room. It’s the same text he always sends when he’s hangry: If I don’t get food in the next 15 mins I'm burning this place down and taking you with me. 

He knows the response he’ll get, either that meme of the child in front of a burning house or an equally hangry paragraph. The phone gets tossed onto his bed as he changes out of his work clothes, needing to dispose of the business casual attire that was suffocating him, his old college hoodie giving him the comfort he needs. 

By the time he’s finally slipping on his sneakers he’s expecting you to come knocking on his door, your impatient attitude always putting a smile on his face. Half of the time your neighbors thought you were having arguments from the way you’d pound onto the slab of wood, saying his name with just enough annoyance laced into each syllable it would fool anyone into thinking you were actually upset instead of being a brat. But when that never comes, he reaches for his phone again. 

A few notifications fill up his screen, some instagram direct message previews, his group chat that he never responded to, and a few emails coming through, but you had yet to respond. Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Jungkook knows you’re home because he passed by your parked car on his way in. So his mind jumps to two extremes: you were either face down, drowning in your bathtub, or that yellow shades wearing wannabe version of himself was at your place. 

Not an ounce of shame sits within him as he speedwalks to the side his bed was on, placing both palms onto the wall before his ear was pressed against the cold drywall. Jungkook’s not really sure what would make him feel good, hearing you and Jung Hoseok together, or hearing nothing at all. His ears strain to hear anything, but the only sound he gets is his own blood pumping. 

With a small pout he pulls back, deciding he’d play the annoying neighbor role today and pound on your door instead. It’s a role he doesn’t take lightly, knuckles banging on the wood loud enough for you to hear wherever you were in your apartment. It takes a few minutes before any sign of life is shown, your door creaking open, and Jungkook is thankful because he was about to head to the maintenance office to ask for a key in case you actually were drowning in your bathtub. 

“C’mon, let’s get food,” he declares instantly, a charming smile on his face as he stands with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. The smile slowly falls off when he gets a good look at you, hair looking like a mess on your head and your fluffy blanket draped around you as you give out a weak cough. “Are you sick?”

“I think so,” you rasp out, leaning against your door frame and tugging the blanket tighter around you. 

“Did that fucker give you mono?” Jungkook looks irritated, brows pinched together in a grimace—something you’re definitely not accustomed to seeing so you almost don’t catch his accusation.

“Jungkook, no! It’s nothing serious.”

He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugs anyways, positive you weren’t interested in getting interrogated when you were feeling under the weather. “Alright, let me know if you need me to drive you to the doctor if it becomes something serious.”

With a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you wave him off, slowly shutting the door behind you. Your eye immediately peeks through your peephole, not relaxing until he makes his way down the hall and enters the elevator, still on his quest for greasy food. 

“God, how old are you?” you grumble to yourself, yanking the blanket off your body and onto the floor with a huff. Pretending to be sick to avoid your friend was a new low, especially after the post-orgasm epiphany you had last night. A sane person would come to terms with their feelings and confess to them, uncertainty and possible rejection be damned! But you? No, you have to fake a cold like the giant coward you are. 

The guilt only deepens when a knock comes from your door an hour later, a quick peek through your peephole allowing you to see Jungkook setting two plastic bags on the floor before stepping back and walking to his apartment next door. You don’t come out until you hear his door shut, seeing the logo of your favorite diner down the street. No doubt would your comfort meal be inside the takeaway container. 

It takes all you have to not rush over to his place and say you were lying when you see he had also gone ahead and got you cold medication, a few different bottles because he surely didn’t know which was best, along with teas and some cough drops. 

You’re a dirty liar. A horrible friend too. 

That doesn’t stop you from devouring the meal in the takeout box as you’re hunched over your breakfast bar like a little gremlin. “This is just for today,” you mumble out to yourself as you set the plastic fork down and chug some of the leftover alcohol you had in your fridge. It’s your own version of a pity party, except the food feels heavy in your stomach, knowing the man you were avoiding was the one who bought it—bring on the guilt. 

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

You’re a dirty liar and horrible friend 2.0. Why this time? Because tomorrow stretched out a few more days than planned. It wasn’t entirely intentional at first, getting stuck at work longer than usual and missing the weekly hangout at your place where you got your remote covered in cheeto dust as you argued over what to watch. But it trickled down onto shorter replies to his texts, or you scrambling out of your apartment and into the elevator so fast in order to not run into him, your mind still trying to list all the pros and cons to this potential relationship before you even had the guts to confess to your feelings. 

Jungkook didn’t know thats what was occupying your mind, no he was currently thinking the worst. He notices the change instantly, recognizing it because this was the exact way you had acted while you were with Hajoon, right before you broke the news to him that you needed to keep some distance while you focused on your relationship. So Jungkook automatically assumes that your sudden change in behavior after going on a single date with Jung Hoseok, was because you wanted to make your relationship with this man work. 

His assumption stings—a lot actually—and soon enough he stops initiating conversations altogether. He didn’t want to hear you tell him you had to distance yourself again, he’s not sure his heart could handle that a second time, so he decides to get ahead of the curb and take a massive step away from you. It hurts him to know you’re right next door, and just like before, it’s like you’re back to being total strangers. 

Safe to say Jungkook was currently going on his own downward spiral. 

You could text him like nothing had happened and he’d accept it with open arms, but instead you text your best friend an SOS text, begging her to meet you at your place. She calls you dramatic at first, but once you say it’s about Jungkook she shows up at your place in record time. 

“Did you finally fuck him?” Is her greeting of choice, spoken shamelessly from the hallway with no worry about her volume. She cackles when you yank the bottle of wine from her grasp and tug her into your apartment, letting the door slam behind her. 

“You’re lucky he’s not home you bitch.” An eye roll is her only response, yanking the bottle back and making her way into your kitchen to grab the opener. 

“So you didn’t fuck him?” The cork pops at her question, a curious glance staring you down as she pours the red liquid into an oversized cup. 

“No Seulgi, I didn’t fuck him. But I did...something.” It makes your face warm up as you remember it, gratefully grabbing the cup she hands your way because you definitely need some liquid courage before confessing to your sins.

She hums in thought as she raids your pantry for something to munch on, settling on a bag of mini pretzels before leading you to your couch, needing to know the gossip that led to your sos text. “Okay, did you accidentally send him a nude then?”

“No, that wouldn’t be so bad I think?” Sending him an accidental nude would be laughable, probably resolved by a few screaming texts and dumb jokes before moving on. But new feelings seeing the light of day seemed so much worse. “But I sort of kissed him at a club a few weeks ago to get back at Hajoon—long story,” you cut in when you see her ready to fire off questions. 

“And then I went on that failed Tinder date I told you about, and when I got home I sort of heard him, you know,”— you mimic a jerking off motion with your hand and ignore her lewd gasp, “and then I…” you trail off shamefully. 

“No!” she gasps even louder, hand pressed to her mouth and eyes wide. 

“Yes! And the fucking orgasm opened my eyes and made me realize that maybe that tiny crush you guys always joke about him having is real, and maybe I have a tiny crush on him too.”

“Does he know?”

“That I like him?”

“No, that you rubbed one out while listening to him you dirty slut!” Oh she’s loving this, leaning back into your cushions with a handful of pretzels resting on her boobs, a sly smile on her lips as she takes a sip of her wine. She’s the one who planted the seed in your mind, playfully joking about Jungkook any chance she got, saying he had the hots for you because she enjoyed the flustered look on your face. No doubt would she text the group chat with the news the second you finish this cry for help. 

“Do you think I told him? I can barely come to terms with the fact that I like him. Like what am I supposed to do?”

She sighs dramatically, munching on the final pretzel on her tits before sitting up and dusting off the crumbs from her shirt. “Look, I know you’re just realizing that he likes you so this is still new and fresh for you, but we’ve noticed it for years. It’s fine that you didn’t see it, you had other things occupying your mind.” 

You frown as you stare at the rug beneath your feet, remembering how life was when you first moved into this complex. Getting out of a previous relationship weeks prior, when you had met Jungkook your mind was not interested in pursuing anything with him regardless of how cute you thought he was. It made it easier for you to form a friendship, not worried about trying to impress him, or flirt with him, allowing him to see you for who you truly are. 

Jungkook had his fair share of girlfriends during the years, none of which were entirely serious but by the time he was completely single you had met Hajoon, and he had accepted the fact that maybe you were better off as friends and he would just admire you from afar. That is, until you decided to plant one on him. So technically this is your fault. 

“Jungkook likes you okay, and I’m sure if you just marched next door and told him you like him too he’ll drop on one knee and marry you.”

“Shut up,” you snort, shoving her shoulder with a smile. 

“As a matter of fact, go over there right now!” She stands up from her spot, yanking your arms to haul you up with her. 

“I told you, he’s not home. But, I’ll tell him. I have to.”

Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest as she stares at you, clearly displeased that she wouldn’t be witness to this love story unfolding in real time. “You better. You never know what sneaky little bitch is trying to get him to get over you.”

The sneaky little bitch in question is Park Jimin, currently sitting directly across from Jungkook, guzzling down beer like his life depends on it. It's impressive really, how quickly he empties the cup, eyes shut looking as content as could be even in the dim lighting. Jungkook can only watch with a grimace as his friend sets the glass down and wipes at his mouth with no sense of table manners. 

“What?” he burps, proceeding to pour more of the golden liquid into his cup from the pitcher in the middle of the table. 

“I always forget how absolutely disgusting you are. How do you do it?” Jimin just frowns at the question, not entirely understanding so Jungkook continues. “What switch do you flip to go from sipping champagne to chugging beer like a fucking biker.”

“It’s a talent, I know.” He smiles wide, reaching forward to grip Jungkook’s hand and force him to grab his own cup. Condensation was pooling around the bottom from sitting there untouched, and that just wouldn’t do on Jimin’s watch. “C’mon, drink it!”

“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, raising the glass and allowing Jimin to clank the cups together before taking a big gulp. He doesn’t clear the cup like his friend did seconds prior but it's enough to appease him. It tastes absolutely bitter the whole way down, settling into his stomach uncomfortably, and the look on his face as he pushes the glass away from him is very telling. 

Boisterous shouts fill the sports bar they were in, huddles of people surrounding the tables and booths as they watched the current soccer match playing on the televisions lining the walls. Jungkook honestly feels like a debby downer now, moping in his seat instead of enjoying the atmosphere with his friend like they normally did. The current game was definitely not the reason Jungkook had texted Jimin to grab drinks, no he needed an outlet to talk about you—preferably in a space that didn’t have walls as thin as his apartment.  

When he barely acknowledges the plate of wings set in front of him Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to dig in because he knew once he did he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Are you gonna be like this the entire time?”

“Like what?” Jungkook has the gall to ask, acting as if he wasn’t looking like a wounded animal. 

“Like you just discovered your wife of ten years is having an affair with your sister.”

He sits up straighter at that, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus.“

Jimin knew the jist of what was happening through the texts he had received the past week, but it seems like Jungkook didn’t want to jump into the topic of it at all now that they were sitting across from each other. He just sighs before deciding to be honest, wasting no time beating around the bush to hopefully be the voice of reason Jungkook needs. “You’ve been simping over her for years JK, and I get it, you think she could be the one. But what about you huh? It’s not fair for you to have your heart wrung out each time she gets a man and decides to put the friendship on pause—“

“That happened once!” He defends, brows pinched on his forehead as he shakes his head, ready to explain your situation because he wasn’t a fan of hearing his friend say anything about you when he didn’t truly know what happened. “The dude was a piece of shit and basically told her it was him or me. I’m not gonna crucify her for wanting a long term relationship to work.”

“Right, so she’s not icing you out again because she got a new man? That’s literally what you told me, it’s why I bought you this sympathy pitcher of beer!”

“Fuck you, you bought this pitcher for yourself.” Jimin had chugged two giant glasses of beer already, and was steadily working on his third, whereas Jungkook’s watered down cup remained relatively untouched. “Besides, I was just...spiraling and assumed when I sent you that desperate text. But I haven’t heard anything.”

Jimin can only stare blankly at the table as he processes what was just said before locking eyes with his friend once more, “Sorry, what? You haven’t heard anything? The hell kind of riddle is that.”

Jungkook sinks into the booth with a look of shame, not wanting to admit to occasionally laying in his bed at night in complete and total silence just to see if he could hear you and the hypothetical version of Jung Hoseok doing literally anything. It’s not one of his proudest moments, feeling like a bit of a creeper as he laid stiff on his bed, too scared to make a sound.  “Nothing, forget about it. Point is, I haven’t seen the fucker come in or out of her place, so what does that mean?”

A deep sigh comes from Jimin, hand reaching forward to push the beer closer to Jungkook, desperately trying to get him to drink and ease up. “It means you pay far too much attention to her. When was the last time you got any action?”

Two weeks ago. From his hand and filthy imagination. 

“A few months,” he grumbles, remembering his last hook up that happened a few days before he discovered you got dumped. 

“Get outta here.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he points to the door. “Literally, go stand at the corner outside, show some thighs or a tattooed titty and take your pick of the swarm of girls that will surely follow you.”

Jungkook thinks he’s joking, but when his friend doesn’t drop his hand and narrows his eyes threateningly he knows he’s being serious. “My tits aren’t even tattooed,”—his large palms press against his shirt covered chest as if to prove a point— “And you sound like a douchebag talking like this.”

“What? She went on a tinder date and definitely got laid, so you need to even out the playing field. Also, it might help you chill the hell out.”

“Oh my god, you’re not helping.” Jungkook really didn’t need that visual again, it had flashed in his mind too often the night of his pity party and now it was once again at the front of his brain. 

“Alright, okay. I’m throwing out my safe word right now.” Jimin leans closer, arms resting on the table with a confused look on his face. “What do you need from me here? Like, do I play the role of a supportive friend who wants you to get over her, or do I play the role of a friend who wants you to confess? Because you’re giving me some mixed signals Jeon.”

A groan escapes Jungkook, fingers rubbing at his eyes before dragging down his face as he sinks even further into his seat. “I don’t know.” 

It’s the truth. Jungkook had no idea what he wanted his friend to do to help him. He knew that although his feelings for you have weighed heavy on his chest for what seems like years, you technically had no idea, so he feels a little guilty over his frustration for the whole situation. You were newly single again and determined to go through this self proclaimed wild phase so Jungkook isn’t dumb enough to think you can’t go out and do whatever you want, even if that means being with someone who isn’t him. 

“Look,” Jimin sighs, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You only have two choices here, tell her how you feel and accept whatever comes with it, or make peace with the idea of just being friends. Either way, I think you need to loosen up and have fun tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jungkook sits himself up, wrapping his fingers around the cup in an effort to at least look like he wanted to be here. He couldn’t sit here and mope about a problem like this when he hadn’t attempted to come out and tell you how he feels. 

One night of loosening up to get you off his mind wouldn’t hurt, if anything it might help him come to his senses. At least that’s what Jimin was currently whispering with a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure you don’t black out and get home safe. Who knows, you might get plastered enough to drunk text your confession.”

Jungkook glares at his friend, not liking the goofy look on his face as he starts to laugh. “I swear to god, you better not let me get to that point. Take my phone away from me.”

Jimin obviously wants to see the world burn, or at least he enjoys it when Jungkook somehow digs himself into his own grave. That's exactly why he responds with a million laughing emojis when Jungkook texts him asking why the hell he hadn’t taken his phone last night. 

He did a good job hiding his shock when a knock came from his front door, half expecting it to be you, keeping a smile on his face as he allowed  the person who was very clearly not you in before swiftly entering his bathroom. Jungkook wants to stay locked here forever, holed up while he sits on his toilet and not in the living room with company. It wasn’t like it was bad company either, his drunken ass going through his contact list and sending an invitation to hangout the following day to the last person he spoke to, Aillie. 

The girl is sweet, someone he had a casual fling with for months, someone who was used to his random texts so she doesn’t think twice before agreeing. The only silver lining to this was that he hadn’t sent you a typo-filled drunken confession, which is what Jimin responds with before telling him to suck it up and leave his bathroom. 

Jungkook accepts his fate, as well as accepting that he is partially responsible for this. He shoves his device back into his pockets before standing up and flushing the toilet for show, washing his hands just to stall. One good glance at his reflection makes him cringe, stained shirt and sweats combo leaves him looking like the unprepared mess he is. Another detour through his room to change was a must before he has no choice but to step back out. 

“You’re totally hung over aren’t you?” Aillie jokes from her spot on the couch, comfortable enough in his apartment from the time spent here. She locks her phone as she stands up, taking her time to really look Jungkook over. He was not dressed like someone who was expecting a guest, and despite having seen Jungkook at his sloppiest, his previous attire of oversized shirt and slightly stained sweatpants didn’t look like someone who was expecting a fuck buddy to pop over. Even with his new outfit looking more put together, it was obvious Jungkook was caught off guard by her showing up. 

“What?” Jungkook dumbly asks, trying to come up with some lame excuse to justify his earlier appearance but he falls short. His fingers gently rake through his hair, a grimace falling on his face as he looks back up at her. “Actually, a little. Sorry, I got drunk last night when I text you so sober me was not really prepared.”

“Yeah I figured, you sent me some blurry selfies right after. But we can just hang, we don’t have to do anything,” she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. The only time they ever hung out was to hook up, having ten minute conversations before and after the fact. “Or I can leave too if it's weird that I’m here.” 

Jungkook is shaking his head before she can even finish, already feeling bad enough after texting her to come over. How shitty would he be if he immediately kicked her out. This was fine, a nice distraction from it all, decent middle ground that would help him get his mind off you without having to take Jimin’s douchebag advice. 

“No, we can watch a movie or something. It’s not like I have other plans.” Had this been two weeks ago it would be a totally different story. Jungkook would typically be waiting in his apartment as he stared at the slowly ticking clock, just waiting for it to strike 7:30 because that's when you usually got home. Then he’d either get a text from you to come over with snacks or you’d show up at his door and invite yourself over for the weekly game night. 

It didn’t happen last week, or the week prior, so Jungkook is very confident that it would not be happening today either. It’s that same sense of confidence—and saltiness—that allows him to get comfortable with Aillie, blissfully unaware that you had just pulled into the parking garage a few stories below. 

“I swear to god if you don’t go straight to his door the minute you get off the elevator I will never let you live it down.” Seulgi’s voice fills your car through the speakers, fading out as you shut the car off and bring your phone to your ear to continue the conversation. 

“Dude, I just got off work. I need to make myself look decent.” Plastic bags rustle together as you grab the snacks you had picked up on your way home, all full of yours and Jungkook's favorite treats. It was definitely a guilt fueled purchase, hoping the items were enough to distract him from the fact that you were kind of a bitch for ghosting him recently, or at least butter him up into accepting your apology easier. 

“You think Jungkook cares if you’re a little sweaty from work? He’s a grown man, that’s not gonna stop him from going do—“

“Okay, goodbye!” You hastily cut her off as you press the elevator button, hearing her rambling off about being interrupted. “I’m about to get on the elevator, I’ll tell you how it goes.”

With a small sigh you hang up and stuff the device into your purse, stepping onto the lift as the doors open up and pressing the number for your floor. Your hands are clammy as you grip the plastic bag, uncharacteristically nervous about seeing Jungkook again after so long. 

The main obstacle for you to get over was apologizing for being a crappy friend, and if that went well you were going to suck it up and just come out and confess, the odds of him saying no were slim. And even if he did, you’re perfectly content with staying friends, as long as you could keep him close. 

It’s that same optimistic mentality that allows you to calm down as you enter your place and decide to give yourself a minute to mentally prepare. His favorite ice cream gets put into the freezer for later before you decide to shower and give yourself a pep talk the entire time. 

This pep talk of yours is filled with best case scenarios: Jungkook accepting the confession with open arms, finally being able to kiss him properly, everything falling into place the way it should have a long time ago. And as you head over, totally sober, freshly washed, looking and smelling your best, you really can’t picture this going any other way. 

With a deep breath you’re knocking on his front door, quickly pulling back your hand and wiping it onto your pants as you step back. Jungkook hears the knock clearly from his spot on the couch, his gaze tearing away from the television to stare at his front door with a small frown. He hadn’t ordered any food and Aillie had just excused herself to use his bathroom so his brain is having a hard time wondering who it could be. 

He curses under his breath, not putting it past himself to have texted a second person last night with an invitation to hang out. Why was Jungkook a friendly drunk?

As he presses his eye against the peephole and spots you standing there, he thinks he’s imagining things. It had seemed like so long since he had last seen you in person, and the warped fish-eyed version of you has him stepping back and rubbing his eyes before taking another glance. He suddenly feels like throwing up, and he can’t blame his earlier hangover on it. 

For a brief second he contemplates pretending he hadn’t heard you, but the guilt of doing so makes his heart twist, so he musters up the courage to open the door. It’s barely a crack really, just enough for you to see him while still concealing his apartment, something you definitely found strange because you’re usually flinging the door open and strutting right in, but you suppose his reaction is warranted considering your previous behavior. 

“Y/N, hey. Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine!” Your fingers tangle together in front of you, not entirely sure what to do with your nerves and Jungkook spots it easily. His own nerves sky rocket when he hears the sound of running water coming from his bathroom a few feet away, knowing Aillie would most likely pop out any second now, and he’s not sure why it feels like a dirty secret that he has another girl over. 

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about something kind of important.” Your smile is hopeful, despite the nerves swirling in your eyes. The nervous skip of your heart is felt in your throat, not remembering the last time you had felt this way about telling someone how you felt about them romantically. 

“Right now?” he wonders, fingers gripping the door handle tighter when he hears his bathroom door unlock, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner before stepping into the living room, a few feet away from the door and in perfect view of the wedge Jungkook had opened. 

When your eyes flicker over his shoulder, spotting the auburn haired girl giving you a curious glance, you feel all your confidence slip away. Seulgi had definitely been right about needing to confess soon, Jungkook was a catch and just because you hadn’t realized it sooner didn’t mean the rest of the world was blind to it. 

“Yeah, right now...but you’re busy, so it’s fine!” You want to scramble away from there, feeling dumb the longer you stand there. Jungkook wants to say he’s not busy, kick the girl out of his place and invite you in but that wouldn’t be fair to her, for all he knew your important conversation would be a repeat of the conversation you had over Hajoon, and he really didn't want to get friendship dumped while this girl was in his apartment. He’s pretty sure his Yelp rating would drop a bit if he cried on the couch about you to his old hook up. 

He starts to speak but you cut him off before he can, “Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you later.” You force a smile before walking away, not allowing him to get a word in as you quickly step into your apartment and move to the furthest room away from your bedroom. 

You can feel the cold of your kitchen floor as you sit on your butt, back against your cabinets, the small twinge of defeat spreading within you. “This is fine. Maybe she’s just a friend. I can always tell him tomorrow,” you whisper out. But your fingers seem to think otherwise as they type out a message to Seulgi, informing her that the mission was unsuccessful and you’d be putting on The Notebook like you always did. It was basically protocol to do so when things went south in your life. 

She doesn’t even know how to console you, knowing she can’t tell you it was his loss or that he wasn’t worth it because she knows that’d be a lie and you wouldn’t believe it for a second. The only thing she can offer is coming over, but you’re quick to turn her down, deciding that being alone in the comfort of your bed as you inhaled the ice cream you bought for Jungkook would be best. 

Is being in your room the wisest choice when you know you share a wall with Jungkook—and he has a cute girl over? No. Probably not. But you figure if you hear anything explicit it’s just your dose of karma, so you accept it, turning up the volume of the movie a few levels just to soften the blow. 

However, Jungkook would definitely not be hooking up with her in his bedroom, or anywhere in his apartment for that matter. Luckily Aillie is blessed with the gift of reading the damn room and can easily spot the shift in Jungkook’s mood the second he shuts the door. She’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, hands gently placed on her knees as she gives him a sympathetic smile. 

“I get the vibe that somethings off.”

He looks up at her then, slowing his pace until he’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “My friend—my neighbor just wanted to talk about something. But everything’s fine.”

The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, and Aillie doesn’t believe him in the slightest. A small sigh fills the air as she stands up, collecting her bag and approaching him. “Look, I know deep talks really aren’t our thing so I’m not going to even try to dive into this, but you should go talk to your friend.”

A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder before she makes her way to the door to leave, Jungkook already following closely behind her. “No, you don’t have to go. You came all this way because I texted you with way too much tequila in my system.”

“Jungkook,” she laughs, opening the door with a smile. “You’re way too sweet for your own good. It was nice seeing you though.” Her eyes slowly move over to your front door before looking back at him, head cocking to the side in a very clear indication that he better go over. He can only nod in understanding, waving her goodbye and shutting the door once she heads down to the elevator. 

The action sounds of the movie they were watching continues to fill his apartment, whatever chaos was going on only making his brain whirl so he’s quick to grab the remote and shut it off entirely. Now he’s just stuck in complete silence, wondering if he should quickly make his way over to yours or play it calm and collected. 

The total silence allows him to hear the muffled mumbling of a movie he knew all too well. It draws him in, lures him into his bedroom until he’s kneeling on the mattress with his ear pressed against the wall to properly make it out. You were watching the Notebook, at a concerning volume, which could mean a number of things. Jungkook knew none of them were good, usually rooted in issues you had with your ex, or a tough day at work, or any particular day where you just felt like crying. 

With a deep breath, he’s slowly knocking along his wall, almost experimentally, hoping it's enough to grab your attention through the current scene playing. For a second he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep while watching the film, but then the room falls silent as you pause it entirely. 

Your hearts racing now, ears straining to hear anything else and hoping this wasn’t how the beginning of the explicit noises would start, but then another knock comes from behind you. It makes you gasp, like you’ve just been caught being the nosey neighbor you are, hearing the soft scrape of his hand sliding down the wall. The ice cream gets put onto your nightstand as you sit up properly, forcing yourself out of the mountain of pillows you were practically suffocating in and turning around to knock back.

Jungkook’s palm presses back onto the wall, smiling at your response before fishing his phone out of his pocket. His fingers find your thread of messages, further down the list than he was used to, and as he opens them up and sees the string of unanswered texts dating back to two weeks ago, it stings just like it did before. He pushes his pride aside though, knowing you had wanted to talk today in person, so he proceeds to quadruple text you. 

Jungkook 8:44pm : are you seriously watching the notebook again?

You’re unlocking your phone the second it buzzes, smiling at the dimly lit screen before typing out a response. 

Y/N 8:45pm : shut up, it’s my comfort movie

Y/N 8:45pm : do you wanna watch it with me? for old times sake

The device is locked and placed face down onto your sheets the second you hit send, sinking into the pillows once again as you try not to scream at yourself because you know he’ll hear you. Why would you invite him over when he clearly has company? You had seen her with your own eyes, had seen how cute she is, had seen how cute Jungkook is, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

Jungkook is quick though, texting back in agreement and heading over instantly. If you were watching your comfort movie then Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay. Putting the past two weeks behind him, knowing you’d most likely have a good enough explanation—an explanation he would definitely be needing before the night was over—he’s knocking on your door before you can even check your messages. 

It takes you a minute to untangle your limbs from your covers as you hastily try to get to your door, sock clad feet sliding along your wooden floors when you finally yank the door open. Jungkook wears a soft smile as he stares down at you, taking note that you had switched your outfit to your usual sad movie binge attire of baggy shirt and lounge shorts. His eyes zero in on your lips when he notices there's something lingering at the corner of them. 

“So, are you gonna share whatever the hell that is?” His finger points at it smugly, laughing when your tongue peeks out to wipe it away. 

“It was actually meant to be for you.” Stepping aside, you let him enter your place. Jungkook almost feels a little strange being here after the weird few weeks, but he pushes it aside, just wanting things to feel normal. 

“Does that mean there’s no more left?” His eyes playfully narrow at you as you step closer, moving on to stare at the kitchen table, and the coffee table in search of the tub of ice cream that supposedly had his name on it. The earlier nerves you felt slowly fade away when you realize he’s not visibly upset about what happened, but it only makes your guilt deepen that despite your ability to be a crummy friend, Jungkook would still try his best to come through for you. 

“There’s about half of it left, it’s probably a little soft now though.” You side step him to enter the kitchen, grabbing an extra spoon and handing it over as a peace treaty, smiling when he gratefully accepts it. “C’mon, I paused the movie.”

Jungkook is not a stranger to your bedroom, especially when sappy movies were playing, finding his spot easily on the right side where he typically handed you tissues whenever you cried. The tissues were missing this time, in place of them being the bag of snacks you had bought, his ice cream on the other nightstand. 

“What part are you on?” he asks, settling onto the bed after fluffing up the pillows, waving his hands so you could pass the tub of ice cream his way. 

“It just started raining on the boat.” Jungkook hums, scooping out some of the chocolate ice cream and into his mouth. He knew this scene very well, and when you press play, he mentally repeats all of the lines. Just as Noah declares he wrote her 365 letters, you awkwardly clear your throat, your own spoon slowly sneaking over to his side to steal some ice cream for yourself. 

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with your date.” Your voice sounds timid, something he’s not used to hearing from you at all, so he chuckles, laughing harder when you swat at his arm. “I’m serious, I should have texted you before just showing up.”

“Really? When have you ever done that before?” The two of you never notified the other when they wanted to show up, Jungkook had even given you the code to his place once when he was at work and you were desperate for some fruity pebbles—you used that code to your advantage and Jungkook never hated it. But all things considered, it's fair why you think you would have to give him a heads up. 

“You didn’t make it awkward though.” It’s not the complete truth, you coming over is what had made Aillie decide to leave, but Jungkook had to take most of the credit for it. “I kinda made it awkward from the beginning.”

“Why, what happened?”

“I went out last night with Jimin“ —you immediately hum in understanding, knowing very well how convincing Jimin could be with alcohol— “and apparently I texted her to hang out today, had no recollection, so when she showed up I was definitely not ready.”

“Damn, this is how I know you’re a better person than I am. If that happened to me, the second I checked my peephole and saw someone I didn’t remember inviting over, I’m gonna pretend I’m not home.”

“Yeah well, she lives like an hour away so I’d feel like an ass if I did that. Don’t think I’ll be talking to her again any time soon though.” He sighs in thought, gently tapping his spoon on the surface of the softening ice cream. There was one thing weighing heavy on his mind, needing to know what important thing you had to talk to him about, wondering if you were actually going to friendship dump him earlier and he had just made it worse by coming over and hanging out like old times. 

He doesn’t want to come right out and ask it though, not wanting to set himself up for an awkward conversation in case that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, so he settles for something safe enough that would allow him to get a glimpse. 

“So how are things with Hoseok?” Yeah, that’s a good start. 

“Huh?” Your spoon freezes in its spot, face clearly looking confused in the dim glow of the television, the movie long forgotten now that you were speaking. 

“Tinder guy? Yellow sunglasses guy that gave you mono?” 

It suddenly clicks again, having forgotten all about Jung Hoseok the second you had gotten home from the failed date and came to terms with your feelings. Your lie of having a cold must have been believable enough for Jungkook to genuinely think he had given you something like mono. 

“He didn’t give me mono!” Jungkook rolls his eyes with a playful smile, humming along like he totally believes you. “But I didn’t tell you?”

He frowns as he stares at you, not entirely sure how to take your tone. “Tell me what? That you’re engaged and the wedding is in June?”

“No way,” you laugh, swatting his spoon away with a clank as you grab some ice cream before shoving it in your mouth, fighting against the brain freeze to continue speaking. “Our date was a bust.”

“How? Was it that bad?” He desperately wanted to know, having convinced himself the date had gone spectacularly well and you were now an exclusive item. The small twinge of guilt is felt when he realizes he’s a little too happy that the date had been a failure, but he allows himself to have this small, tiny victory. 

“Mm, it was so good it was bad.” He looks utterly confused, and you don’t blame him, so you elaborate. “He was this perfect gentleman who just wanted to play games, like to the point where he had a notebook where he was tallying our points, and then he walked me to my car and kissed my cheek goodbye.”

“Oh the horror!” Jungkook gasps, setting his spoon down to clutch his heart in dramatics. “How dare he try to romance you with a game night.”

“Jungkook, shut up!” you laugh, finally feeling like everything was right again, sitting in bed with your closest friend as you teased each other. “Look, I’ll give him some credit. The date was nice, he was not the sleazy douchebag his profile made him out to be, and I’m sure he’ll find the perfect girl for him on Tinder. But he clearly wanted something serious and—“

“And you don’t want that right now. It’s fair.” Of course you would turn him down, you had just decided to embark on this new adventure in the single world. It was kind of dumb for Jungkook to assume one date with Tinder Boy would be enough for you to give up your short lived dream. 

You take a steady breath at his words before taking another scoop of ice cream, lips wrapped around the spoon as you slowly pull it out of your mouth. The nerves are trickling back in, making your heart skip and your eyes bounce around. If you don’t come out and say it now, you know you never will. 

Your spoon joins his in the tub of ice cream before you decide to move it back to the nightstand, forcing yourself to look back at him, seeing him turned away as he rummages through the plastic bag full of snacks. “I don’t want that with him.”

Jungkook freezes, the rustling of plastic ceases as his hands come back to his sides and he turns back around. With him. He was the king of jumping to worse case scenarios so his brain has no issues coming to this very horrible conclusion. 

“Have you been talking to Hajoon again?”

“No, Jungkook I haven’t.”

“Are you sure? I’m saying this now, but if you get back with him I will not hesitate to pop him in the face if I run into him in the halls. It’s fair game out there, neutral territory for him to get his ass beat—“

“It’s you.”

His brain short circuits at that, mini versions of himself currently running around and screaming in his head as he tries to make sense of this. The first instinct he has is to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t been talking to Hajoon again, and laugh it off. But you look a little too vulnerable right now, eyes nervously looking at him and then looking away at his lingering silence. 

“Wait, what?” It’s the only thing he can sputter out, caught off guard by your words, not wanting to say anything else in case the world was cruel enough for him to have completely misheard you. 

“I don’t want that with Tinder Boy or Hajoon, I want it with you.” It gets a little easier saying it a second time, but his reaction is hard to gauge. You had been expecting him to reciprocate the confession instantly, but the longer he looked shocked only made you think that you and Seulgi had been seriously wrong about his supposed crush. 

Jungkook is having a difficult time trying to go from you ghosting him to you suddenly admitting to liking him, the change in emotions not allowing him to say anything he had practiced in the mirror for so long. He can’t come out and give you a speech about how he thinks you’re the one, how you’re obviously a good match together, brain too focused on other details. “How long have you known this?”

“For the past two weeks, but deep down I know it’s been longer.”

His wide eyes glance over at you now, everything slowly clicking into place. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Yes,” you mumble, embarrassed over the way you had acted. The last time you had avoided someone was in elementary school, having a best friend go ask your crush if he likes you while you hid in the bathroom, scared of the answer. “I like you Jungkook and I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it cool. I was scared to say something and have you not feel the same and then have our friendship be weird.”

Jungkook smiles in that adorable way you love, nose scrunching up cutely as he leans closer, large palms coming to cup your cheeks. He has wanted to hear this for so long, and sure, maybe it wasn’t some super romantic confession over a candlelit dinner like he had occasionally dreamed of, but this felt right. 

“You’re so stupid,” he whispers out, thumb softly caressing your cheek as he chuckles, feeling the way your lips turn into a frown at his harmless insult. 

“Jungkook, I’m being serious,” you whine, heart still pounding in your chest. Your hands come up to gently wrap around his wrists, allowing him to continue to squish your cheeks with that endearing look on his face. 

“I’m being serious too Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Jungkook did everything he did with you out of pure friendliness, never expecting to get something in return from it, but there was a small sprinkling of a crush in every one of his actions. “I like you too, and I have for a really long time.”

The relief you feel comes instantly, lips slowly pulling into a smile when you finally have the confidence to look directly into his eyes again. If this is how light you feel after the two weeks spent freaking out, you can only imagine how Jungkook feels. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, can I please kiss you?” You’re nodding the second the question leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his hands glide down to cup your jaw, soft lips slowly pressing against yours. It’s a gentle smack of skin as he pulls back, a smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes, softly rubbing his nose against yours. 

“Wait,” he breathes out, chuckling softly. “Is he still looking?” He has the nerve to repeat the same question that had been the root of your guilt, and when your eyes shoot open and glare at him, he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out. 

“I hate you,” you mutter out, not an ounce of truth behind it. 

“Mm, no you don’t.” 

His lips find yours again, falling into a steady rhythm, softer and less rushed than the first kiss you had shared at the club. There’s no pounding bass in the background, or the taste of liquor on your lips, but Jungkook prefers it this way. He likes the low hum of the movie continuing to play in the background, the sweetness of the ice cream lingering on your lips when his tongue gently swipes at the seam of them, the way your hands slowly slide around his neck as he deepens each kiss. 

With each shared breath, you slide further down your bed, pulling Jungkook down with you until he’s hovering directly above you. His knees dig into the sheets, one hand pressed beside your head to keep himself stable as you urge him even closer to you. The delicate golden chain he wears kisses your skin, pendant settling onto your chest, the cool sensation is almost enough to distract you as his tongue slowly slips into your mouth. Jungkook groans when you let out a small gasp, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently at the strands by the nape of his neck. 

He wants to remember this kiss instead of the one from the club, embed every gasp you let out into his brain, the way your chest pushes up to feel more of him, how your hands slide down his back, leaving a fiery trail in their path that makes Jungkook shiver. And when you slide your thighs further apart for him, innocently at first, he can’t help it when his lips freeze on yours as you slowly roll your hips upwards. It gives him the same automatic reaction he had gotten at the club, all the blood rushing to his cock instantly, except this time he doesn’t feel the shame he had felt before. There was no ulterior motive to what you were doing, sincerity shown in your confession, shared within each kiss, so Jungkook allows himself to bask in the want he feels for you.

“Y/N,” he groans out when you repeat the action, pulling away from your swollen lips to stare at you through hooded eyes. You’re licking your lips over as your eyes slowly open, a small glimmer evident in them as you tilt your head and pretend to not know what you’re doing.

“What?” you question, leaning up to kiss the edge of his mouth, giggling when he attempts to chase your lips as you pull back, choosing to kiss down his jaw instead. As your tongue gently trails along the side of his neck, you feel the harsh gulp he takes, his fingers bunching up in the sheets beside your head. His neck has always been a weak point for him, turning him into a puddle in seconds, you knew this from the unfiltered conversations you’ve had and it was something you were definitely going to be using to your advantage. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut as you nip at his skin, a visible shiver racking through him. 

“Of course I am,” you hum, letting your hands roam his back, sliding around his front until you’re sneaking past the white fabric of his shirt. When your cool hands meet his skin, he tenses, the muscles on his stomach tightening up as your fingertips trail up his body. You’ve known Jungkook was well defined, lean and toned in all the best places, having seen him shirtless a few times. But being able to touch him like this, feel each stuttered breath and jump of his skin reacting to your touch fueled you. 

Jungkook knows you can feel the racing of his heart now, your palms flat on his chest, each thrum revealing his emotions despite the cool and calm exterior he was trying to have. His hips lower towards yours, resisting the urge to rut into you as you start to suck on his skin. The low hum you let out vibrates against his neck, mixed in with the feeling of your wet lips, and he knows he’s done for. The final blow comes in the form of you swiping your tongue at the blossomed hickey, sweet voice pulling him back to earth as you look at him once more. “I want you Jungkook.”

Oh god, he couldn’t do this. His face pulls into a grimace, begging himself to not instantly cum in his pants at what you just said. How many times has he fantasized about this? Hoped you’d beg him for anything in that same exact voice, dreamed of you kissing and sucking on his skin like you currently were. Jungkook isn’t sure any amount of mental preparation would be enough for this. 

“Say that again please.”

You giggle, finger pushing back a strand of his hair as it falls over his face, tucking it behind his ear. The normal doe eyed look you were accustomed to is nowhere to be found, pupils blown out in lust as he stares at you. Being on the receiving end of this stare fills your stomach with butterflies, the flapping of their wings intensifying as he nudges his nose into yours. 

“I want you.” It’s breathless, spoken so softly through the background noise like a personal secret just for him. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say it, that much is proven true when you repeat it in between kisses, trailing back up his neck in the same path you had taken until you're speaking the words directly against his lips. He swallows them down greedily, groaning into your mouth when his tongue tangles with yours once more. 

“Fuck, you can have me baby.” He chuckles against your mouth when you start to tug at his shirt, yanking the thin material until he has to pull back and slip the tee off himself. The balled fabric gets tossed aside without a care, dark swirls of ink on his arm fully revealed now, each tattoo reminding you of how long you’ve known him, remembering the two pieces that he had when you first met. When he leans back over you, taking his time trailing kisses down your neck, onto your chest until his own hands are slowly tugging your shirt off of you, you decide there’s other things to focus on besides his glorious tattoos.

“Ah, Jungkook,” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair when he kisses the swells of your breast, warm tongue sliding over your nipple before his lips are wrapping around it. His large palm gropes the other, thumb flicking over the pebbled bud, smirking when you push your chest further out for him.

“What baby?” He pulls back to blow a gust of cool air on your nipple, the wetness of his saliva making your skin break out into goosebumps. 

“No teasing.”

Jungkook’s laughing now, eyes peering up at you through his lashes. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna tease you after what you did?” He tsks in disapproval as he continues to kiss down your torso, letting his hands trail down your sides, not stopping until he reaches the hem of your shorts. A kiss is placed above your navel as he pulls the shorts down your legs, toying with the waistband of your black underwear. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

The build up before pleasure will always be your favorite part. The way his hands grip your thighs after tugging your underwear off, fingertips trailing up until his palm is pressing them further apart. It’s impossible to look at him now, the visual of his long hair framing his face as he starts to press wet kisses on your skin is too much to handle. You can feel the warm huff of air when he laughs as your head drops back onto the pillow once more, eyes slipping shut while you wait with anticipation. 

Jungkook wants to comment over how wet you are already, boost his own ego about being able to rile you up with just kissing, but he can see the way you’re already on edge, and he decides he can tease you some more later with what he has in store. Instead, he gives you what you’re mentally pleading him for. Finally pressing his soft lips to your folds, the short gasp you release as his tongue glides up before gently flicking across your clit has him shutting his own eyes, reveling in the way you react to his touch. 

His long fingers spread out your folds before he’s messily spitting onto them, watching the way the glob of saliva trickles down before he’s diving in, falling into the perfect pace with ease. It has your hips rutting up instantly, your hand uncurling its grip from your sheets to travel down your body and find its place tangled in his hair. Jungkook groans against your clit when your fingers grip tightly, yanking the dark strands as the prettiest moan flows out of you. 

“J-just like that, fuck,” you whimper, finally lifting your head up to stare down at him when he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. It sends a spark down your spine, stomach tensing at his rhythm, fully intent to have you fall apart. 

Jungkook wants to push you over the edge, knows he’s talented enough to get you there in record time—he was cocky in the best way—and the way your thighs tremble as he slowly sinks his finger into you proves his point. The slick coating your entrance allows a second finger to slip through with little resistance, a shuddering breath filling the air as he begins to spread his fingers apart, stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

It’s not until his fingers curl up, rubbing along the sweet patch inside of you and you moan out his name, that he realizes he has you right where he wants you. He can’t get himself to look up at you, to see the way your jaw drops as you plead for more. Jungkook knows if his eyes lock with yours too soon he’ll be too weak to be as cruel as he wants to be. 

The pleasure blooms inside you, hips rolling up into his in a way he welcomes, smirk spreading onto his lips when your moans get breathier. He eats you out with determination set in his brows, not satisfied until you’re tightening around his fingers, thighs threatening to close in on either side of his head. The messy way he slurps against you sends you reeling, rutting up into him with need, the wet thump of his fingers blending in with your moans of his name. 

“God, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” He believes you, eyes finally opening up to stare at you. The visual is enough to make his cock throb in his pants, your glassy eyed stare locked onto his, chest rising and falling in time with each choked breath. When he playfully winks at you, your walls pulse around him, seconds away from being pushed over the edge, and that’s when he pulls away. 

The warm glow of your orgasm approaching, just about to crest, gets ripped away from you instantly. It makes you gasp, thighs twitching as your hips attempt to push up back towards his mouth, but he’s having none of that. His shiny lips smile up at you innocently, head tilted to slowly kiss your trembling thighs, chuckling at the small cry of frustration you let out. 

“You taste good baby,” he hums, smooching the skin at the juncture of your thighs, circling around your clit without relieving the pressure you felt. The dull ache has your fingers releasing his hair in defeat, a frown etched onto your lips. 

“Jungkook, that’s mean,” you pant, sitting up and resting on your elbows to properly stare at him. 

“A little, but you deserved it don’t you think?” Jungkook didn’t want to tease you too much, he just wanted to get even for the past two weeks. “You could have had me between your thighs every single night if you would’ve said something soon, so I think you can be patient.”

A firm kiss is pressed to your swollen clit and it makes your whole body shudder, your head dropping back as you take a deep breath to control yourself. “I can’t be patient Kook,” you whine, head leveling back out to give him the most convincing stare you can muster. There's that crease between your brows that he likes when you pinch them together, hands gently raking through his hair, teeth pillowing out your lower lip as you bite down onto it. 

“Please, you can torture me later if you want but not now.” Your words have him cocking up his brow, hands once again gripping the meat of your thighs before he crawls back up your body. The feeling of his chain dragging up your skin has you shivering, breath catching in your throat when he hovers inches above you once more. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before his hand slips between your thighs again. A groan reaches his ears as his fingers circle your clit, covered in your arousal and his saliva, gliding with ease as he works you back to your ruined orgasm. 

His lips find yours, swallowing down the moan you let out when he quickens his pace. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangling with yours with more urgency than before, messy and desperate in a way that had more arousal gushing out of you. The earlier pleasure reignites inside you, your hands sliding around his neck to keep him close, kissing him with fervor, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past between each smack of your lips. 

“Jungkook,” you barely manage to squeal, a few more flicks needed to finally push you over the edge. Your lips are slick with spit as you pull back, jaw slack as you lose yourself in the feeling, and Jungkook easily bookmarks this into his brain to go back to and daydream of whenever he’s bored at work. Your eyes are squeezed shut as the feeling flows through you, not able to see how Jungkook stares at you in awe. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly pulling his hand away when you keen at the sensitivity, thighs twitching on the sheets as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. You’re looking up just in time to see him slip his messy fingers into his mouth, tongue licking them clean and savoring the taste of you. Just as he slides them back out, your fingers wrap around his wrist and lead them directly into your mouth, sinking onto them with your eyes locked on his own. 

Jungkook’s cock jumps in its confines when you suck, tip of your tongue circling his fingertips before popping them back out with a smirk. There’s a brief moment of shock on his features before he’s jumping into action, quickly unbuttoning his jeans in haste that left you giggling on your sheets. 

“What happened to patience?” you tease, laughing harder when he pauses with one foot stuck in the hole of his jeans, a playful glare thrown your way. 

“Oh, now you want patience?” He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, slowly shuffling towards you as he stands beside the bed in just his boxers. Your hands make grabby motions for him, reaching for the waistband of his underwear to tug them down, licking your lips over as his cock springs out. It bobs in the air for a second, thick and heavy, precum collecting at the tip with the prettiest veins on the underside of it. Of course Jungkook and his pretty privilege would have a dick worthy of leaving you speechless. 

Jungkook allows you to ogle at him, confidently wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, hissing slightly at the sensation as he looks down at it, allowing spit to accumulate behind his lips before a string of it escapes and lands right onto his length to help the glide of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight, hand replacing his as he guides your motions, giving an experimental squeeze and enjoying how his abs tense up. 

“I’ve been patient for a long time Y/N. You said you want me right?” You’re nodding instantly, eyes looking away from his shiny length to stare up at him. “How do you want me?”

“Jungkook, just get over here.” He doesn’t resist when you let go of his cock, hands gripping his arm to yank him back onto the bed in a clumsy heap. His legs are a tangled mess, nearly ramming his forehead with yours from the force, shared laughter filling the air as you situate yourself. Jungkook had pictured this a thousand times and this is exactly how he imagined it, full of soft kisses, hushed laughter and goofy smiles, playfulness mixed in with lust all coming together perfectly to make the two of you. 

As he settles between your thighs, your sodden folds inches from his length, you can see the look on his face as his eyes glance in between both of your nightstands. Already knowing the question that was about to spill out, you beat him to the punch. “You don’t need one, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and haven’t been with anyone since…” you trail off, not needing to specify.

Jungkook tries not to look too excited, really, but it’s hard. Every one of his lewd fantasies had involved being able to feel you entirely, and if your thoughts from that night were anything to go by, you definitely want the same. It takes him a second to speak, having to swallow properly to prevent himself from choking on his saliva and embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you smile, biting down onto your bottom lip as he fists his cock, slowly leading it to your dripping center. His free hand rests on your inner thigh, softly palming the skin as the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscles and into your heat. With his gaze locked down to where you connect, he sees inch by inch sink into you, finally bottoming out with a shared gasp.

Jungkook leans over you properly now, hand sliding up to lace with yours as the other rests beside your head, just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You welcome the stretch, the curve of his length inside you, how he cages you in with his body, eyes full of want staring directly at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze because he knows he can’t properly form a sentence right now. 

“Fuck me, please.” With his hips pressed flush against yours, he’s slowly inching back, letting you get used to his size with each thrust. It doesn’t take long before he’s rearing back entirely, thrusting forward with a wet squelch, corner of his lips curling up into a smirk when you moan out his name. Your hand curls around his shoulder, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself steady from the force of his hips. 

Each time the head of his cock would nudge against your bundle of nerves, your nails would sink into his skin, leaving half moon indents that left him groaning in pleasure. Jungkook hadn’t outright told you, but it had become increasingly obvious that he has a slight kink for pain, practically mewling above you as you scratch his back, fucking you with more determination than before. 

“You feel so good,” he rasps, slotting his lips with yours in a messy kiss. The back of your headboard starts to rattle against the wall, bouncing back in time with his hips, and it brings you back to the filthy thoughts you had before. How often you’d hear the same sounds on the opposite side, mixing in with the sharpness of skin connecting together, and you want it. So badly.

“J-jungkook,” you breathe out, letting him pepper more kisses onto you, hips never slowing down. “Can you do something for me?” The tone you use, coated in sugar so sweet he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Anything.”

It’s hard to concentrate on anything else while his cock continues to fuck into you, turning your mind into mush each time he sunk all the way in. He can see the way you try to focus, eyes falling shut with the cutest pout on your kiss swollen lips, finally grabbing onto the reigns of your mind as you spit it out. “Wanna feel you—fuck—spank me, please.”

Only then do his hips slow down, cock throbbing inside of you, fighting the urge to cum before fulfilling your request. The only confirmation that he was agreeing, wholeheartedly, comes when he pulls out of you, moving too quickly for you to protest at the loss of contact. The room spins for a second as his hands grip onto your hips and flip you over with ease, palms gripping the globes of your ass and softly patting them with a chuckle.

“Of course baby,” he murmurs, hooking his arm underneath your stomach to haul you up onto your knees, allowing you to steady yourself before he’s sliding into you once again. The change in position has you keening, his cock sinking deeper than before, the wetness dripping out of you helping him maintain the earlier pace he had. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, back arching in ecstasy as he hits your g-spot with precision, a tiny shriek of his name making him smile.

Jungkook keeps you on edge, strong hands gripping the skin of your hips tightly, mouth dropping open while he pants at the way you pulse around his cock, leaving it coated in your slick. His hand slides down to your ass, a gentle touch being your only warning before he’s pulling his hand back and delivering a swift slap to your skin. Your reaction is immediate, an unrestrained moan sounding like music to his ears. The sharp sting spreads directly to your core, your head bowing forward as you mentally beg him for more, your wish being granted seconds later when he repeats it on the other side.

If the wet sounds of his cock fucking you weren’t filthy enough, the added slap of his palm across your ass definitely topped it off. Jungkook had never seen you so needy, thighs coated in your arousal, gushing around him each time he spanked you until you were creaming his cock. The greedy way your walls suck him in, wanting him closer, deeper than ever, left him mesmerized. 

His hand soothes the dull throb on your skin, a trembling breath reaching his ears as he leans over your back, lips kissing up your spine up until reaching your shoulder. Hot pants of breath hit your skin, making you shiver as his lips trail along the edge of your ear. “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you mewl, voice trembling from the pleasure, rutting your hips in time with his. 

Jungkook’s way of love was a breath of fresh air for you, rough enough to exhilarate you, the force of his hips leaving you scrambling for purchase to prevent you from face planting onto the sheets, gripping onto your hair and tugging it back with enough force to make your body tingle. But it was intertwined with adoration, sweet praise whispered into your ear, lacing his fingers with yours to let you feel secure.

“You’re never getting rid of me baby,” he groans out. The low rasp in his voice makes you tremble, neck straining from his grip in your hair but the burn feels too good to pull away. His small confession has your heart skipping, eyes slipping shut to bask in the overwhelming feeling surrounding you.

“Good,” you manage to pant, “would never dream of it.” After four years of friendship, the beginning stages of getting to know each other, figuring out the right ways to flow with your different personalities, it's all out of the way now, so it’s incredibly easy for you to picture a steady future with him. The breakfast gossiping, shameless club outings, chaotic game nights with snacks thrown at each other, you want everything you already have with him and more. What you have, so rooted in sincerity, built off mutual respect for each other, blossoming into love so pure, you can’t imagine having this with anyone else.

“Y/N,” he gasps, the pulsing of your walls bringing him closer to his climax. “I’m close.”

You can only hum in agreement, burying your face into your pillow when he releases the grip he has in your hair, nipples rubbing against the sheets in time with his thrusts, the sensitivity sending sparks throughout you. Both his hands grip your hips again, dimpling the skin as he quickens his pace, the tantalizing roll of his hips intent to send you over before him. His eyes trail over the curve of your back, how you arch it further to feel more of him, sliding down to your ass, seeing the way it bounces back with each snap of his hips, how you weakly rut back onto him, pussy clamping around his length as your orgasm approached. 

Jungkook slides his hand around you, trailing across your tummy before slipping between your thighs to the spot you needed him most. Even with your face buried in the sheets, the moan you let out is loud enough for Jungkook to hear perfectly, body shuddering as he flicks across your clit in tight circles.  

“Kook, I’m cumming—fuck,” you shout out, white heat enveloping your body as you get sent over the edge. Your mind blanks for a minute, the intensity of your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly, making your limbs tense up while every nerve ending lights up. The only thing you can think of is him, chanting out your name while you pulse around him, sweet words coaxing you through your high, thumb rubbing along the skin of your hips as he never slows his pace. 

As he fucks you through it, groaning out at how tight your walls are around him, you have to turn your head to gasp in a breath, face feeling hot from it all. You can feel how sweaty your skin has become, the back of your neck feeling sticky as your turn to get a glimpse of him, body still shuddering from the aftershocks. 

Jungkook doesn’t have a care for his own volume now, moaning unabashedly as he pistons his hips into you with less grace than before. The soft mewls of overstimulation you let out just bring him closer to his release, thrusts getting sloppier as the pleasure takes over him. 

“Fuck, baby-” he grunts out, mouth dropping open as he moans even louder, finally falling apart. He pushes further into you, head falling forward as his hips press flushed against your ass, warm spurts of his cum filling you up in a way that fulfills your dirtiest fantasies. A few more shallow thrusts has the two of you gasping, hearts pounding in your chests, coming down slowly as he finally stills.

A serene silence falls over you, the movie long turned off in the background, only the low glow of the television letting you know it was still on. With great hesitation, Jungkook finally pulls out of you, gulping when he sees the thick globs of cum spill from your core, dripping down your thighs before landing on the sheets in a sinful mess. Your sheets are well and truly ruined, Jungkook would honestly suggest tossing them in the trash judging by the damp spot directly beneath you.

With a small groan, you’re flopping fully onto your stomach, thighs no longer able to keep yourself up, the exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungkook chuckles when he hears you, soothing your back with a gentle massage. “You’re not sleeping in here babe.”

“Why not,” you slur, cheek pressed against your pillow, eyes already shut. All you wanted to do was lay here, preferably with his arms wrapped around you, but Jungkook clearly has other plans. 

“Because it’s disgusting,” he laughs, giving you a few more seconds of rest before he’s moving around. The dip in the bed lets you know he’s gotten off, one eye peeking open to search for him, seeing him gathering his belongings from the floor.

“Where are you going?”

He shimmies back into his clothes with a grimace, gathering your own items before approaching you once more. “We are going next door and sleeping in my totally clean bed, c’mon.”

You only put up a fight for a second, secretly enjoying the way he helps you get dressed in your earlier clothes, heart swelling in your chest at how domestic it all feels. The mess in your room would have to be dealt with another day, the only important item being the ice cream that finds its way back into the freezer as you both head out of your apartment and swiftly enter his next door.

He’s just as delicate and careful in the shower, taking turns cleaning each other, large hands gripping your ass and giggling like a child when you wince at the small throb of pain you feel. Soft kisses are shared under the showerhead, warm water soothing your body as the room fogs up, sweet confessions scribbled on the glass in his messy writing, topped off with a heart. Jungkook stops you before you can wipe it away, shyly telling you that he’d like to see it reappear the next time he showers.

His bedroom was one you weren’t too familiar with, used to lounging in his living room the most, so as he settles into his bed after getting cozy in his pajamas, you wait for him to call you over before joining him. The coolness of his sheets has you sighing, snuggling into his side with a smile on your lips, one that Jungkook sees as he stares down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Seeing you draped in his clothes, cuddled up beside him in a way you’ve never done before, makes him feel like a giddy teenager. 

“Can I be honest?” he wonders, arm wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. When you hum in confirmation, he laughs sheepishly. “I thought you were going to friendship dump me today.”

“What, why?”

Your head bobs up as he shrugs his shoulders. “The way you were acting reminded me of the last time you told me you wanted to focus on your relationship. I was just scared I was going to lose you again.”

The tone he uses makes your heart ache, the same guilt you felt these past few days coming back when you put yourself in his shoes. You had no idea that the way you were acting would affect him this way, never once imagining that he thought you would cut off this friendship while you were just coming to terms with the fact that you harbored strong feelings for him. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you sigh, palm resting on his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, no longer racing like before, confident and steady in it’s pace because he knows you’re not going anywhere. “I’m stupid, and freaked out after what I did, and just needed to gather my thoughts before saying anything.”

He cranes his head away from you, a confused look on his face. “After what you did? What did you do?”

Fuck.

“Uhm,” you start with a strained laugh, refusing to look up at him out of embarrassment, but the truth has to come out so you power through it.  “So, the night of the date, I sort of got home earlier than I told you I did.”

His eyes narrow at you, refusing to give anything away before he knew where this was going. “Okay, go on.”

“And I sort of heard you through the walls.” You look up at him now, your guilty stare spelling it out for him. His eyes widen before he can conceal his surprise, cheeks warming up instantly because oh boy, he knew exactly where this was going. “And then, I sort of...joined.”

“You lied to me!” he shouts, shocked smile on his face as he recalls the way you had replied to his texts, telling him you had just gotten home and going the extra mile to say you were in a totally different room when in reality, you were sprawled out in your bed after just getting off to the sound of him.

Filthy. And also kind of hot. Jungkook was definitely into that, something he’ll totally proposition you into doing again because why not.  

“I know! I couldn’t help it, it was so hot, and I felt so guilty. But, you’re technically the reason why my orgasm gave me my epiphany and let me realize I really do like you. So, I think I did us both a favor by being a dirty liar.” He’s laughing instantly, fingers gripping your cheeks to turn your head up, planting a firm kiss onto your lips obnoxiously.

“Alright, you’re forgiven. Plus, consider us even because I have definitely heard you getting off on your own plenty of times too.” A squeal of surprise fills the air as you swat at his chest, burying your face into his shirt and feeling the rumble of his laughter. It really wasn’t ever intentional. The walls are thin, you weren’t exactly quiet, and he couldn’t just lay there and ignore it. So call him an opportunist, or a pervert, because you were one too. 

Jungkook is cheeky though, knowing how to get under your skin in the best way, and you can already tell you’re in for a ride when he gets close to your ear and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snort, peering up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“You did say I could torture you later.” He smiles innocently, fingers pinching your chin as he kisses you again. “It’s later.”

The sweet laughter that escapes you makes his heart skip a beat, still not able to come to terms that this was happening and wasn’t some dream of his that he’d wake up from. He kisses the tops of your cheeks first, then your nose, before reaching your lips, his hand gently caressing your skin. Jungkook had no intention of torturing you tonight, knowing how tired you typically were after work on a normal day, and after drawing two orgasms out of you that left you shaking, he knows how close you are to sleep with the way your eyes droop. 

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on crushes and love?” he mumbles against your lips, inching back to stare down at you. 

“I’m glad I stopped looking for it in the wrong places.” Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with his hair before pulling him back to you, reattaching your lips because you just couldn’t seem to get enough of him. 

Every single moment you shared, from moving in and awkwardly trying to get to know each other, the ups and downs of failed relationships, the push that started it all at the club, and every almost moment in between brought you full circle to right now. There probably won’t be a moment where you don’t wish you had done this sooner, worked past your worry of ruining a good friendship in fear of what could happen, but the past helped mold you into who you are, strengthening your relationship to be the way it is now.

Right now had you thinking of the future, and there was nothing more exciting than that.

[littlemisslipbalm]

I live in the neighbourhood

When Y/N moved to Hampstead she was unaware of the implications the decision would have on the course of the rest of her life.

or

Harry is Y/N’s eccentric neighbour who sweeps her up in the whirlwind that is his life

this gif bc its maybe my favorite clip of him EVER holy fuck - this is the harry of my dreams this is the harry of i live in the neighbourhood

HEY YALL it’s been a minute and I missed yall so much and I’m just about to be on break so maybe i’ll be back to posting writing regularly but with school its so hard and I think I’ve been working on this for months so yeah <3 lol PLS PLS PLS leave me feedback and reblogs and that stuff bc otherwise my writing just feels...empty and you have no idea the smile i get when even just the tags say like “god this was everything” it can be anything honestly but it keeps my passion up. Thank you again and hope you enjoy.

Word Count: ~10k | Warnings: swearing probably? no smut (yet), rich and famous harry - mentions of Taylor Swif 

-

She considered herself an average young woman in her mid twenties. She liked screaming Taylor Swift and Megan Thee Stallion songs alone in her car and thrifting on weekends. She hated cable because of commercials and when doordash didn’t deliver all of her order. She had asthma when she worked out or the air quality was bad. She had dumb celebrity crushes that her friends and her still laughed over with every new instagram post. She had hopes and dreams she had yet to achieve and she had past trauma that many would never know about, especially at first glance.

Sure, she was successful. She would admit that. How else would she be able to afford even the modest little house she had found in Hampstead? She had studied international business in college and hopped on a plane to London the first chance she got. After a few years of a more than decent paycheck and an advantageous stimulus check from her kind parents, she was able to move out of her starter flat into the suburbs. The definitive push for the move was two-fold. Her parents wanted her to take her dog and her apartment complex was strict on no pets. Then her promotion at work - which included a pay raise - made it hard to wave off taking full ownership of her childhood ten-pound best friend.

So with life happening as it usually does, Y/N first found herself scouring Zillow, then touring homes in the area, and finally standing outside a three bedroom, two bath, two-story cream house in Hampstead. Her house.

The little moving truck she had rented sat beside her as she stared at her future. The realtor had told her they would be there in ten minutes. For the next ten minutes all Y/N had to do was keep herself from combusting, or worse, sobbing.

She felt overwhelmed already. Renting a flat in London was one way to describe herself as independent. Owning a home in Hampstead seemed like a whole new level of adulthood she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for.

After taking a few deep breaths to ground herself, Y/N walked up to the gate that kept her front yard narrowly separated from the sidewalk. She lifted one hand from beneath the box she clutched tightly to her chest to push past the iron-rod gateway. The garden was cute, a little bland, and she thought to herself that maybe she’d develop some gardening skills now that she had her own front yard. The thought made her smile a little, refraining from laughing aloud while on her lonesome, since she had never taken interest in gardening before. But this house. This house. It was a new beginning. It was a fucking unwritten journal. Blank film. Unknown territory. She could be anyone in this house.

She gently placed the cardboard box on the first step up to the front door. There was no porch, but she couldn’t complain. It was gorgeous and she was lucky to get it at the price she did. The house was cream with dark blue accents and a grey shingled roof. Lots of windows. It was classic and it was hers.

After the realtor came with her keys and made sure everything seemed alright, Y/N’s couple of friends, Amélie and Daniel, arrived with their cars filled with items she had needed picking up from various stores. They helped her move her stuff into the house. Thankfully it was already half furnished, meaning she didn’t have to go out and buy beds or couches or any of those big items that are both expensive and a hassle to deal with.

By the time the evening had rolled around, everything was in the house and it actually seemed semi put together. Y/N looked around, sweat apparent on her face and hands on her hips, proud of what she had accomplished. The nerves from earlier had been drowned by pride.

-

The next day, she woke up from her first night in the house. It felt like a dream even though she was sure she was awake.  

She had to navigate her way to the airport today to pick up her dog from his long flight and then mainly settle into the house. Her house sat on Sherwood Avenue, one of the many streets in Hampstead. It’s neighboring houses were much larger. The ones directly next to and across from her weren’t drastically bigger but what she had yet to learn was that next to the house across from her there were two houses that had been joined together by their slightly eccentric owner. A man who would be the match that ignited the flame that was the rest of her life.

This unknown fact quickly became known after Y/N’s first few weeks in her new neighbourhood. The eccentric - more so absurdly rich - neighbor who conjoined the houses was Harry Styles.

The first time they crossed paths she wasn’t even aware of it. It was the day she moved in. He had been out for his usual morning run and was rounding the corner when she had pulled up in her moving van. Once inside his home, he snoopily watched on as his neighbour began to move in. He hadn’t taken note of much about her, just that she was new and that she had a nice pair of jeans on that day.

The second time, Y/N was convinced she needed to get her eyes checked because there was no way that she had just seen Harry Styles key himself into the house across the way from her. There was no way that she had moved into the same area as him, let alone the same street. It seemed far more plausible that she needed a psych evaluation or a strong glasses prescription.

But the third instance of them crossing paths, she was proven wrong. She was on her way back from the neighbourhood park when she saw a guy jogging towards her. With a yellow beanie and a black Columbia sweatshirt paired with running shorts and shoes, he was hard to ignore running straight towards her. The iconic curls, strong jawline, and soft green eyes were dead giveaways this time. After making brief eye contact as their paths literally crossed, she felt herself make a little face of odd interest. Her head quirked and her eyes narrowed, lips pursed with slight confusion. That was definitely him.

After that, she found herself seeing Harry around the neighbourhood a relatively good amount. She’d see him at the park, at the coffee shop, on their street, and more. They didn’t speak. She really didn’t think he would want to be bothered by his neighbours and she certainly wasn’t willing to test the theory. They sometimes gave a small smile of acknowledgement but nothing really friendly. Just ‘you exist and I know that’.

-

Fridays are Y/N’s favorite day. It’s the beginning of the weekend, she never has to go into work and it’s simply a nice day. People are happier, they smile brighter and it just seems like the world is a little better than usual.

Friday was especially amazing today because her childhood best friend, Cate, was arriving at London Heathrow in the evening. Y/N had begged Cate to fly out to see the new house in person and Cate had finally found the time to run away to England for a week.

She shut her front door carefully behind her and placed her headphones in her ears. Rori, that little terrier, who had made a similar flight to see Y/N’s place not too long ago, scampered out the door with her and jumped happily at her legs as she fiddled with her phone. Her coat ruffles around her disturbed from the morning air. It’s blanket-like fabric that consisted of a deep blue backdrop with felt giraffes sewn on it, kept her warm while she walked. With her mind racing with weekend plans and ideas for her and Cate to do both in Hampstead and the city, she crossed the street like usual and began to walk with her dog to the coffee shop for her morning tea.

Unlike usual, she fumbled just as she was putting her phone in her pocket and bumped into something large and definitely not sedentary.

“I’m so sorry!” She blushed and moved backwards from the man who had just been shutting his own front gate to head somewhere.

“S’alright. No harm, no foul.” He looks down at her and her dog. Rori seems excited by the stranger and sniffs him eagerly. A single paw prodding at the man’s long leg.

She grimaces, hearing the voice and stepping back allows her to fully recognize who she had just bumped into. Her neighbour. The runner. Harry Styles.

“Sorry.” She mutters again as Rori continues to prod at Harry’s leg.

She tries to coax Rori away, but Harry simply smiles and leans down to the small dog.

“Hi there buddy,” he coos and rubs the top of the fluffy dogs head, in between his pointy ears, “What’s your name?”

“Rori.” She states easily, Harry’s eyes flickering to her smoothly. Rori makes a smile babbling noise that sounds a bit like a tiny roar - hence the name - and Harry chuckles to himself.

“He’s really adorable,” he finally says and straightens up from his admiring of the dog.

The grimace becomes more of a smile on her face and she mumbles a “Thank You”.

As her neighbour - who hasn’t introduced himself (which wasn’t necessary, but still) or bothered to ask for her introduction - seems to be about to say something new when his phone begins to vibrate obnoxiously. He twitches, his large hands immediately going to his pockets for the important device. He checks the message and looks back at her face.

“Sorry, I have to run...um,” he’s not sure what to say. He really does have to go, but he doesn’t even know his neighbour’s name. He’ll have to make sure to get it at some point in the near future. Especially now that he’s acquainted with her dog.

“No worries,” she smiles completely this time, relieved for the whole interaction to be over. She felt like she was going to explode with each passing moment. In the presence of a legendary musician, c’mon, who wouldn’t be freaking out. All she could think about was how Harry Styles now knew her dog’s name. What the fuck!

-

Upon arriving at the airport, she waited patiently for Cate to walk out of the customs area.

When she did, the two young women began jumping up and down excitedly, Y/N squealing only slightly. They hugged and began chattering intensely, catching up on lost time that generally occurs when you live an ocean apart.  

Finally, one comment rings through the constant back and forth and Cate stops.

“Wait, what did you just say,” she questions as they begin walking to catch an uber back to Hampstead.

“I think my house might be haunted?” Y/N’s voice raising because she’s unsure if that’s what Cate was talking about.

“No, no, the thing after that. I think I must’ve misheard you.”

“Harry Styles is my neighbour?” Y/N’s brows raise as she looks over at her best friend, curious to know what she will say.

“Yes! Explain. Now!”

“It’s not really a big deal. It’s a nice neighbourhood, it makes sense that celebrities of his caliber want to live there.”

“That is not explaining. You have to introduce us!”

As they climb into their uber and settle in for the short ride back to Hampstead, Y/N sighs and tells Cate everything she knows.

“We’ve only just spoken today and I’ve been here for a couple weeks. He lives across the street and down one, I guess. I just see him around, it’s not like he knows who I am. He didn’t even get my name today, just Rori’s.” She laughs lightly, still finding it funny that Harry knows her dog’s name.

Cate nods, leaning in slightly to her best friend, hardly able to contain her awestruckness from the story and baffledness at Y/N’s calmness. “So, like, when do I get to meet him?”

“Girl, I don’t fucking know. Never, if you’re going to act wild. I don’t want the neighbourhood to think I’m not chill.”

“Sometimes…” Cate starts and leans away from Y/N jokingly, “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They both smile, bumping elbows silently. The song on the radio fading in louder as their words die out.

-

The next day, Y/N took Cate to the local park. It was expansive and connected to the football fields that local teams would play at. The park section was a luscious green that was maintained with copious amounts of watering by the township.

She and Cate settled on a patch of grass near a slender tree that would offer some shade if the sun’s rays became too harsh. The quilt they sat on was something her grandmother had made her when she was maybe 8 years old, meaning it was torn in places and completely worn in a different shade of pink than it had been initially.

They set up their picnic and played music, enjoying the sunny day. Something rare and fleeting as the fall began to creep up on Hampstead.

They eat and catch up on life for about an hour. Basking in the sunlight, Y/N had laid on her back and was staring up at the clouds passing along the sky. Cate was carefully watching their surroundings, simply taking in her friend’s new home, but possibly for another reason too.

“Hey, isn’t that…” Cate trails off, trying to subtly nod in the direction of an approaching figure.

Y/N sits up, her hands holding her up from behind her. Her hair fails in front of her shoulders slightly and it’s a little disheveled from being mused in the grass. She looks discreetly in the direction of Cate’s nodding and then looks at her friend and rolls her eyes.

“Yes, but don’t say anything, he might not even notice me and I’m certainly not calling out to him.”

‘Illicit Affairs’ by Taylor Swift is playing off her speaker and as she’s about to change it, Cate turns it up slightly. They share a glare with one another before trying to act casual again, even though both of their eyes kept flickering to the man who seemed to be continuing closer and closer to their set up.

It became clear that Harry was approaching them after all and Y/N tried to carry on an unbothered conversation with Cate, which was hard with the constant nudging of Cate’s foot on her shin.

He stops a mere foot away from their blanket, beaming at the two young women lounging on the ground. He makes an attempt at a casual wave, his large hand splaying his fingers quickly, before opening his mouth to speak.

Cate beats him to the punch. “Hello there!”

“Erm, hi!” He says nicely to her and then looks at Y/N.

“No Rori today?” He inquires.

“No,” she smiles, slightly blushing at the fact that he remembered her and her dog. “He’s napping.”

“Ah, I see,” He pauses, “I feel like I need to apologize.” He continues.

“For what?” She questions and Cate watches on anxiously, mesmerized by Harry and dying to see what happens next.

“I ran off before I could even ask for your name or introduce myself. It was terribly rude.”

“Oh,” she can’t stop smiling, “It’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sure you’re busy. Besides I had to get my day started, otherwise I would’ve been late picking her up.” She points to Cate who smiles sheepishly, still internally screaming over the fact that her friend is able to talk so easily to a celebrity.

Harry nods and looks at Cate again, “Just visiting I take it then?”

She nods quickly, words escaping her. Y/N chuckles under her breath and swoops in to save her friend any embarrassment. “Cate’s my best friend and she’s been kind enough to take time out of her extremely busy life to come look at my new house.”

He hums, still standing a respectful distance from their set-up. “Nice to meet you, Cate,” he says very kindly. Then he laughs, but in a way that is like he’s beside himself. The two women both quirk their heads at him. Y/N squints her eyes slightly, trying to understand the guy she is talking to and connecting him with the man that is all over the news all of the time for his musical genius.

“Now I know your dog and best friend’s names but still not yours. At this point, I’m begging you to tell me.”

They all laugh and Y/N feels nervous for the first time since Harry had walked up.

“You first,” she smiles slyly.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but then go back to normal. Harry was very smart, she likely knew his name, but one, she was trying to be funny and two, she was also trying to be courteous. He preferred to introduce himself rather than just be told who he is, even if people already knew. It allowed him to maintain some normalcy.

“‘M Harry,” He says with a smile.

“Alright.” She says and then remains quiet.

Harry’s lips quirk up in a faint smile, amused at her expression.

“I thought it was a ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ type of situation or was I mistaken?” He finally asks when she remains silent still.

The two young women laugh and Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, both feeling flustered and completely in control at the same time.

“You weren’t mistaken, I was just thinking.” Then she pauses again and Cate thinks Harry is about to combust and Harry thinks he’s going to as well with all the anticipation that has been built up over his neighbor’s name, even though he was pretty sure he’d heard it in passing at one point or another but had forgotten quickly afterwards.

“It’s Y/N.”

Harry releases a facetious sigh of relief, “Oh thank god! Finally!” His words quickly turn into an infectious laugh that is paired with a shining smile and she feels like she’s swooning right then and there. The control has gone out the window and she’s taken with her neighbor. He’s wonderful in that moment and she forgets about Cate or the park or anything. It’s just Harry and how it seems like he’s smiling just for her.

“Now that I’ve gotten your name,” he smiles pointedly at her after his laughter has faded away. The smile doesn’t leave his face though, his eyes still crinkled, his dimples still showing.

She nods, encouraging him to continue. Cate feels like she’s watching a movie unfold in front of her and she wishes she could record the entire interaction.

“I can finally ask you, Y/N, where did you get that fabulous coat I saw you wearing yesterday?”

She twitches further upright, eyes bringing themselves directly inline with Harry’s gaze. “Oh,” she inhales, “The giraffe one, yeah?”

He nods.

“I got it from a Goodwill years ago. It’s some vintage company that used to only make sleepwear. I looked up the tag one time and it doesn’t exist anymore. Super cool, though. Wish I could buy more.”

“Yeah,” Harry says eagerly, even taking a step towards the women, “It was so intriguing. Maybe, if you didn’t mind of course -” he falters, losing his courage for a moment, “you could bring it over and my stylist could check it out. I would love something similar and I’m sure he could figure it out.”

She shrugs. It wasn’t crazy, especially not for Harry - she assumed. She was certain he often found things he liked but there was only one of them so he would just order his own. She couldn’t help the pride that was swelling inside her though it that moment. Harry Styles liking her jacket so much he asked where it was from and then wanting his stylist to look at it. She’d jump for joy when she was in the safety of her private home later tonight with Cate.

“One condition,” she says and Harry’s brows quirk amusedly at her.

“You are a very tit for tat person,” he muses.

“Fair’s fair,” she shrugs again and then looks around her quickly, “It’s simple so don’t get too worked up over it, buddy.”

He laughs slightly again and tries to figure out what she’s looking for. When she extends a scratched up, sticker-covered point and shoot film camera he smiles.

“Can you take a picture of Cate and I? It’s always just the two of us so we never have anyone to take pictures of us together.”

Harry grins at this and her sincere face. Cate is a little taken aback, because while it’s technically true, it’s not entirely factual. They have plenty of film pictures of them - maybe not recently though. And she wasn’t going to question Y/N right now. It seemed like she knew what she was doing.

Harry takes the camera and begins to look through the viewfinder. The women scoot closer together and Cate wraps her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. She leans in to press her cheek against her best friend. They smile up at the camera and Harry crouches slightly to get a better angle.

“Alright,” he mumbles, “Ready?...Cheese!”

Their smiles stay hung on their face as they listen for the click and when the faint sound befalls their ears, Cate laughs and Y/N pulls away. She reaches forward for the camera, her hand easily brushing Harry’s large one.

Their smiles meet each other and Cate can’t help but notice how they grow as the two of them look at one another.

“Thank you,” Y/N says sweetly and pulls back to retake her seat on the blanket.

Harry straightens up, his grin falling back into that signature smirk. “No problem.”

“So-” He begins but she cuts him off.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He clears his throat, feeling thrown off. “Yeah, sure. I guess next time I see you we can talk about when a good time would be for your jacket to come over?”

His voice raises at the end of his question a little more than usual, he’s trying to get her to bite, but she doesn’t seem like someone who is easily thrown off. He is trying to read her and she’s been completely cool the entire time. It’s intriguing. Even more so than the jacket, even though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, it wasn’t really his focus when he walked across the park to her and Cate.

“Yep! It was nice finally meeting you Harry.”

He feels the cue to walk off and says his farewells. As he walks off, back on course to his intended destination, his head is filled with questions. Most important of them being when he would see her again.

Cate and Y/N watch him walk towards the football fields. They see him meet with a group of men and it seems like they’re there to practice or play a game. Y/N couldn’t be sure.

“He likes you!” Cate finally bursts out.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Stop trying to make me take the piss. That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“It’s not! He likes you and you obviously like him, I mean, but we been knew.”

“Having a crush on the famous Harry Styles when you’re 17 is different than me liking my neighbour Harry.”

“But you like him don’t you? He’s even better than he was when he was 19. Now he’s all grown up and established and more your style anyway.”

“Shut up! He could hear you.”

“He really couldn't, he's yards away, you’re just paranoid.” Cate continues to tease and ridicule her best friend over Harry and Y/N is just about ready to up and leave, but she also can’t help but laugh it off.

“I’m literally gonna kick you out if you keep talking,” Y/N says between laughs and the women feel like they’re back in high school losing their minds over the stupidest joke ever.

“Okay, fine. But all I have to say is I will hold this over you when you end up together.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever. Just be prepared to wait forever because I can promise you Harry Styles and I are never ending up together.”

--

Two Weeks Later

Y/N walked to her door after hearing the doorbell ring and opened it to find her neighbour standing with his arm raised ready to knock.

“Hey, Harry,” She greeted easily, but not entirely sure why he was here.

They hadn’t really seen each other since their official meeting in the park. It hadn’t bothered her and it hadn’t really bothered Harry either. It seemed like they both had extremely busy lives that they didn’t plan on throwing out the window because they had said they would meet up at some point. She liked that.

Harry had come over because he finally had a break in his schedule and was hoping to talk about the jacket and anything else really. He was interested in getting to know her and he didn’t care to hide it.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something?” He asked, leaning himself against her door frame now.

Her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen a little bit, not completely sure she heard him correctly.

“Right now?!” She asked incredulously.

She was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt and black bike shorts that peaked out from underneath the sweatshirt hem. One of her socks was shoved around her ankle while the other was pulled up flat to touch the base of her calf. She didn’t think she was looking the most presentable at the moment. She had been basking in her day off by simply laying on the couch watching hours of Netflix.

He nods, his smile growing on his face. Her flustered expression only made him happier. She was always so nonchalant with him, he wanted to see her a little more antsy.

“Unless you’re busy,” he adds seriously, not wanting to bother her, just wanting to spend time with her.

“No, no. I’m not...I’m not busy. I just wasn’t expecting any plans where I would be required to go out in public. Let me just...um, come inside and then give me five minutes.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles again as he steps into her home.

Her smile is sheepish and much less genuine then the one Harry holds on his face as he takes in her abode. She tells him to make himself comfortable and then runs to her room to try and possibly fix her state in under five minutes.

She tears around her room, heaving off the frumpy sweatshirt and grabbing a long sleeve striped v-neck top she had hanging out half out of her hamper, a sign known to her that while it was clean enough to wear, if she happened to do laundry she should wash it. Slipping it over her head, she walks to her dresser and leans over to open the bottom drawer and unfolds a pair of dark wash oversized jeans. There’s no holes in them and she throws them on the bed so that she can slip out of her current pants. Next, onto the socks, she swaps out the current ones for a fresh black pair and finds her tortoise print boots to flick on. As she just about runs into her en suite bathroom, she zips the two boots up between steps. A quick comb through her hair, deodorant, two spritz of perfume, her eyelash curler and mascara and she’s running back to where Harry is waiting in her living room.

He blinks surprisedly at her promptness, usually giving people more time then what they say they need. She had indeed gotten ready in five minutes. He thought she looked breathtaking. And she felt like she was at a lack for breath in any case.

“It’s a bit cold out,” he glances to the window.

“Isn’t it always?” She smiles, finally catching her breath.

He chuckles and then nods, a smile appearing on his face as he feels a warmth in his chest at her wit.

“Ready?” He checks in.

She nods, grabbing a coat she kept hung by the door.

“Just the coffee shop down the way?” She inquires as they exit the house and she locks the door behind her.

Harry hums, waiting down a step for her to turn around and walk beside him. It was so strange to her, this felt all too normal with him. Like he was just a friend who had come to pick her up for coffee, her neighbor, nothing more.

“Did you hear the new season of the Crown is coming out soon?” Harry asks as they walk shoulder to shoulder (technically since her shoulder wasn’t in line with his).

“Really?” She looks at him, “I love that show!”

“Me too,” He looks at her and smiles happily.

“That’s amazing,” she breathes mostly to herself, half about the show and half about how Harry watches television and that he watches one of her favorite shows.

There’s silence. The brisk air pricking their cheeks as they walk down their street. Their puffs of breath create a slight mist of white ahead of them and then quickly dissipates.

Her eyes flit up to Harry’s chiseled jaw and face and she watches him as his eyes carefully and meaningfully take in his surroundings. Was it her turn to take a stab at conversation? It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but she just wasn’t sure what was going on.

“You play football right?” She says finally as they turn onto the next street that would bring them closer to the café they both frequented.

She remembered seeing him there on several occasions. The tips he left were always overly generous, which she assumed you could do when you were exorbitantly rich. He always smiled when he ordered and knew the baristas by name. His order rarely differed and she hated to admit but she knew his two regulars. His actual “regular” was a 12 ounce black coffee, dark roast, no cream and no sugar. The other, his “I’ll actually have”, was a 16 ounce iced green tea, no cream and no sugar.

She couldn’t help that she was observant and that when ‘H’ was called at the bar she looked at what was pushed out, patiently waiting for him to come snatch it up with a smile and nod to the workers before he left. Sometimes he’d even smile at her over the lid of his drink as he exited the establishment. It was warm and inviting and she felt good about the twinkle in his eye that never seemed to waver no matter the day.

Now they were going there together and she’d have to pretend like she’d never noticed what he got as a drink.

He responds to her question with another glance at her and a simple “yes”. His hands shove into his pockets and one side of his pink lips quirk up. He continues, “I’m on a local team with some mates. We’re in a little competition with our league. The final match is coming up this Sunday actually...You should come.”

He says it so casually it almost doesn’t catch her off guard. Harry inviting her to his football game, maybe this was going to be her life now. Going to her neighbours football match. Going to Harry Styles’ football match.

“Sunday…” She sounds out, choosing to look out into the distance instead of at him. “What time?”

“Eight.”

“P.M. right?” She responds quickly, worried since she never wakes up that early and rarely before 10 a.m. on the weekends for that matter.

“Of course,” he chuckles.

They’ve come upon the café and he’s quick to grab the handle to open the door and let her go before him. She can’t stop the blush and smile that spread on her face as she ducks her head into the warm and cozy shop. Men had opened doors for her before and she really thought of herself as a strong woman who didn’t need a man for anything, but something about Harry’s action felt especially, and specifically, chivalrous. Why, she had no idea.

Neither of them stop to look at the menu. They were regulars and they both knew that about each other as well. He gestures for her to go first and she mutters her thanks before turning to the patiently waiting barista. She orders and is about to hand over her card when Harry suavely steps in and says, “Don’t worry about it. I invited you with me, I’ll pay.”

It was both completely unexpected and expected at the same time. Knowing she’d never win this fight, she thanked him again, glanced at the man taking her order and then stepped aside. Harry orders his own drink and then pays for both. Today he leaves double the amount he usually leaves for tip, she assumes since it’s two drinks he was paying for.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” She says quietly to him once they’re in a corner of the café waiting for their drinks.

He stands slightly slumped against the wall, closer to her height right now. He only shrugs, his good natured smile not once leaving his face since he entered this place.

“I wanted to,” he said simply right as the drinks were ready since it wasn’t particularly busy on this random Friday afternoon.

They glance outside and see that it’s begun to drizzle while they’ve been inside. She sighs, having hoped to walk around a little after being inside all day.

Instead, they sit at the corner table in the café, across from each other. She moves on from the paying thing, knowing it was simply how this guy probably operated most of his life.

He got a black coffee today, the cold and rain likely contributing to that choice.

As one pop song fades out, slightly under the sound of the coffee machines, she’s about to tell Harry she’s pretty sure she can make his final football match when ‘Cardigan’ fades in. It’s the second time a Taylor Swift song has been playing while she’s been in the presence of Harry and they were conversing. She tries to ignore one of her favorite songs at the moment. Harry doesn’t seem to pay much mind to it. His foot is tapping against his other, but it’s been tapping like that since they sat down.

“I think I could probably make it to your game,” she says finally after a pause and a sip of her own drink.

Harry grins at the response and launches into how great it will be if they win and how happy everyone will be. She smiles along and doesn’t notice the slight head swaying to the song that she’s begun.

“Fan of Taylor?” Harry inquires and Y/N’s face drops, eyes widening cartoonishly.

She stutters, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth before she can actually say something. How does she respond about liking Taylor Swift to a man who counts her as an ex. She’s at a loss.

“Yeah, uh,” she finally starts.

Harry watches her curiously, obviously noticing her discomfort as his question.

“I used to not really consider myself a fan. I don’t really follow her just because I don’t really follow...um...musicians,” she chokes out the last word realizing Harry fits that category. “But, after folklore, I don’t know, this album really spoke to me. I also really like Lover and...uh” she pauses again, sticking on 1989, an album she has argued with her friends about how it’s basically a tell all of the man before her and Taylor’s relationship.

He nods, hoping she’ll continue. He wanted to get to know her and he kind of liked seeing her squirm. “1989?” He finally supplies.

Her blush isn’t able to be covered this time. If her hair didn’t fall in front of her ears she was sure they’d be flushed with blood.

Then she draws out of her own self stress and looks at the smooth man before her and grows calm. He was amazing at winding her up and she didn’t want to seem like some young, impressionable fangirl to him. So, she squared her shoulders and straightened up in her chair.

“Yes, it was pop perfection as one of my college friends liked to say. I’d always listen to it at the gym.” Then she pauses, taking a measured breath, gaining her confidence back. Her eyes meet his, “Is there any songs off it that you particularly enjoy, Mr. Styles.”

He chuckles, mostly because of her emphasis on ‘Style’.

“Shake it off?” He asks.

“Oh fuck off!” She laughs and he joins in with her.

When they catch their breaths from laughing, they simultaneously take sips of their drinks and settle their eyes back on one another. Exes and songs written about oneself weren’t exactly the topics Harry had in mind for the coffee outing he had asked Y/N out on, but talks of exes had never been this funny with anyone else. He was grateful for her playfulness, her demeanor.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks quietly and seriously.

“I think we’re past that question, love,” he responds.

“Yeah, I guess,” she pauses and just about whispers, “Pretty much all of them are about you right?”

He shrugs again, his felt coat rustling around his seat. “We never really talked about every single song.”

She leans forward at the ‘we’ Harry is using about himself and Taylor Swift.

“But when I listen to the songs, I hear us in just about every one but a few.”

“Wow,” she breathes and sips her drink. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lived through something that intense and then someone commemorated in a masterpiece.”

“Do you have a favorite on that album?” He asks, moving on from her revelation.

“I love ‘I know places’, it has a cool sound. But I also really love ‘Wonderland’. They both have kind of dark sounds, yet it still is like what you have is so special that the bad bits are worth it. I don’t know, it just seems like a tv show. I don’t think my life could ever be that crazy or dramatic.” She doesn’t notice her use of ‘you’ because she had meant it as a form of analyzing the song theoretically as she had done hundreds of times with her friends,  but this time the ‘you’ is literally the ‘you’ the song is talking about.

“Love can turn anyone’s life chaotic.” Harry muses.

The green eye’s that flashed at Taylor throughout that album look at Y/N from across the table and she feels a flip in her stomach at his tone.

Maybe he notices her mild discomfort, maybe that’s just who he is. But after a beat, Harry’s onto the next topic on his mind. He launches into how he’s just returned from Scotland for a shoot for something so undercover he can’t even divulge to her, much to his dismay. She’s taken aback since she didn’t consider her someone Harry would divulge any of his private matters to, but it seemed like he already considered her a confidant. Just not for that. He wants it to be a surprise.

She smiles and listens attentively. She wonders as he goes on about his interesting yet absurdly lavish life whether he even knows what regular life is like anymore. Or if he’d even enjoy it if he experienced it.

Sure, coffee and football were plenty part of regular life . But the football league was something novel to Harry. He had just gotten to do it and he was thrilled by its normalcy.

She regarded him carefully, unsure what the next step was in this budding friendship. Was it dangerous to get involved with someone’s life which seemed to be filled with whirlwind rigor and constant change.

She liked her chaos, don’t get her wrong. She felt like she often was the odd one out in life. Always thinking differently than the ones around her. She often was the one to suggest spontaneous late night trips around town or exploration of an abandoned building known for spooky stories. She liked inviting friends over for themed parties for no specific occasions and she liked taking film pictures of friends like they were models even though it was only for her and her memories. She thought of herself as silly and fun, but what Harry described as his chaotic fun actually was regimented tight schedules of constant travel and work. Interesting experiences came out of that constant travel and work, but didn’t seem like something she necessarily wanted to get herself wrapped up in.

After coffee, they leave the café and it’s pouring now. Instead of going home, Harry insists on walking her to her place. She relents, realizing, once again, that Harry wasn’t someone who took ‘no’ for an answer. She then invites him in because it’s the polite thing to do. And Harry being Harry accepts.

“Want a dry sweatshirt while you wait?” She asks as she slips off her wet shoes and jacket in the entryway. Harry follows suit, his knit sweater being pelted with rain for the last eight minutes left him feeling cold and shivery.

He nods as he toes off his shoes and ventures back to the living room she had him wait in a few hours ago.

“Here,” She says as she tosses a grey sweatshirt in his direction. She believes it's her one from earlier, an innocuous pullover with ‘London’ in collegiate lettering on the front. He catches it as she rounds the corner to turn up the heater.

Her mistake was being so careless to not look at the sweatshirt before handing it over to her neighbor. Anyone else, maybe they wouldn’t have questioned it. But Harry, how could he not.

“What’s this?”

“A sweatshirt,” she doesn’t spare him a glance on the coach as she fiddles with the thermostat.

“It’s one of my sweatshirts,” Harry says and she can hear the smile on his face.

“That’s impossible, I’ve never borrowed-” Her brows had raised at what he said but now her words fall short.

He didn’t mean one of his personal sweatshirts that she possibly borrowed if they were better friends. No. He meant his merchandise.

“It was a gift,” she sighs as she turns to face him. He’s now wearing the sweatshirt proudly and grinning up at her smugly.

She rolls her eyes when he gives her a knowing smile.

“I didn’t know that it was the one I was handing you. Honest!”

“I thought you didn’t “keep up” with musicians,” Harry says playfully, his fingers making quotes appropriately.

“I don’t.” Her tone is serious as she plops on the couch beside Harry.

“I enjoy your music from time to time. Is that a crime?!” She finally exclaims when she can’t handle Harry’s knowing smirk.

“No it’s not, you could have just told me you were a fan!” She tries to stop him and protest that she wouldn’t consider herself a fan, but he continues, “I still would have wanted to have been friends.You’re one of the liveliest neighbors I’ve got. Everyone else on the street is rather dull.”

She chuckles, remembering finding out quickly that the street wasn’t a lively bunch.  

“I just wouldn’t say I’m a fan,” she presses and sits across from him.

He continues smiling like he knows the truth.

“I don’t think you’ve met an average person in awhile, Harry.” She finally says after they sat in silence for a few minutes because they were both too stubborn to be the first to talk.

“I would hardly call you average if that’s what you’re implying, Y/N.” He nods her way and he shifts on her plush couch, his legs adjusting themselves on their own accord. “And I know plenty of average people,” he adds huffily.

“I normally wouldn’t either, but compared to who you seem to surround yourself, I very much am. And that’s not meant to be a jab at anyone involved.”

His right hand sneaks up to his head to scratch at the base of a particularly perfect curl. His eyes squint a bit as his mind processes her claim.

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’m just curious to see if you’d actually like me in your life. It seems like you want to be friends with me and that’s great, but realistically I don’t know how much I would fit into it.”

Harry scoffs, “That’s literally bullshit, just relax. I’m so chill you won’t even know what to do with me.”

Now it’s her turn to scoff. “Chill?!” She asks incredulously. Harry nods with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before.

“When’s the next time you’re flying off to another country for work?”

Harry pauses, “Um...the day after the final match. I’m beginning to film a movie, so I’ll be there for a month.”

“Busy bee,” she muses and they both chuckle.

There’s something about the somber look Harry is giving her. His eyes twinkled in the coffee shop and with playful winks she was excited to be in his presence. But after she mentions when his next trip is, he seems saddened. There’s skepticism behind his eyes and maybe he doesn’t like being challenged about who he is from other people, especially those who are new in his life.

But that’s who Y/N is, she’s straightforward and doesn’t lie to someone. If Harry was now her friend, she was going to tell it like it is to him. That personality trait she worried wouldn’t make her long for his world.

“So the cardigan? Do you have it here?” Harry changes the subject, clearly not wanting to actually consider a realistic friendship together instead just charging ahead with no hesitation. Whatever happened they would deal with it as it came. Maybe she should just go with the flow, let herself be swept up into his madness. Maybe it would be easier than fighting it.

“No.”

“Oh?”

“I do, I was joking. Where else would it be?” Her tone is light, trying to get back the shine she had seen Harry exhibit before it had vanished.

Maybe that was Harry’s effect on people. He was vibrant and like an Elton John song. You never wanted that shine to go away, never wanted the song to end. Never wanted him to stop shining his light on you. She felt this happening in just a few hours with him. When he was happy so was she and when he wasn’t entirely shining she wanted to do whatever she could to get it back.

A smile curls on his face and his green eyes narrow slightly. He’s trying to figure her out, know what she’s all about.

“Do you want to go and grab it?” His voice sweetening, almost like a tease. Maybe he means to bite his lip, maybe he doesn’t, but the effect on her is nonetheless earthshaking.

She pops up and smiles back, happy to have made him happy. As she walks out of the room to go get the cardigan that had started this all, her head tilts and she furrows her brow wondering why she felt such a sense of pride just for making him happy.

Would this man cause her to finally put someone else’s wishes ahead of hers?

-

“Are you on your way?”

She listens to Harry’s slightly worried voice crackle over the speaker of her phone as she shuts her door with the hand not holding her phone to her ear. His voice is raspy and muffled. She assumes it’s from the cold air of London at night and the scarf he is likely got wrapped around his neck.

“Yes! Jeez, I’m on my way. Walking over right now.”

It’s the final match for Harry’s football team and if they win the game then they get a trophy and it’s all Harry has been talking about since they got coffee and she handed over her cardigan.

Harry huffed an “alright” on the other side of the line and she called a “see you soon” before hanging up.

He was both eager for Y/N to come and possibly meet some of his teammates and a few of his close friends who he had invited and for her to arrive so that she wasn’t walking out late at night alone. He hadn’t known her for long, but he felt a certain protectiveness over her. She was relatively alone here, only two friends at work that she had mentioned and everyone else lived far away. She said she didn’t mind it, but Harry had a hard time understanding it since he surrounded himself with his friends as much as he could and was constantly either traveling or having them travel to see him.

He had even contemplated inviting her to come to Los Angeles with him for a month, but knew she would remind him of her ever important job that she couldn’t just randomly take a month off.

He’d have to ask her what exactly she did because every time he tried to remember, it always slipped his mind.

When her figure came into sight below the fluorescent lights, he breathed a sigh of relief. A grin spread on his face as she beamed at him and waved a bit. He didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how special she was. Every time he saw her he felt himself straighten up and feel a bubbling in his chest. Her smile was infectious and the way her eyes glittered when she looked away quickly and then returned eye contact made him want to stay in her presence forever.

“You made it!” Harry said and scooped her up in his arms, not realizing just how happy he was to see her, swinging her around in a half circle.

She laughs in surprise, but appreciates the warmth Harry’s hug offers her. She’s not quite sure they had ever touched each other before this moment beside shoulder brushes and hand touches. Nothing so...purposeful.

“I made it,” she confirms and pats him on his broad shoulders.

Questions in her mind raced as she questioned whether it was normal for friendships to happen like this. She knew in college friendships could happen this quickly. And that’s when it dawned on her, she really hadn’t made a new friend since college and that was why everything with Harry was so odd to her. She had forgotten what new friendship was. She needed to stop questioning everything and just live in the moment with a person she really liked being with.

Harry’s hands move from her waist and one stays to lead her forward so he can introduce her to some of his mates, as he had promised.

She felt at home in that moment. His hand on the small of her back, his heat radiating off of him and her hair swept behind her ears and her cheek pressed to his shoulder staring up at him sweetly.

She meets Charlotte, a member of Harry’s band who lives in London, her boyfriend, Mitch (who had just happened to find himself in Hampstead this weekend), Ben, and a few more people she couldn’t remember all the names of.

Harry’s team wins the game and Y/N’s not sure if she’s ever seen someone so happy to win an adult league football match. There wasn’t any official trophy except the one Harry had made himself and said he would even give to the other team if they won. It was engraved with the words “The World’s Greatest Football Team of Stars Ever. October 22, 2020”. It doesn’t even make sense but she’d been holding it for the entire night as he played.

He goes down the line of his friends who have been watching and gives them all jubilant kisses on the lips. When he reaches Y/N she holds out the trophy and he grins and gives her a kiss on the cheek. His lips are surprisingly soft and his scratchy stubble tickles her and she swiftly pulls back, a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks nonetheless.

Charlotte and Mitch share a look between the two of them and Ben’s eyes narrow slightly at the interaction. His eyes narrow just as they had when Harry had strutted over to the group with Y/N before the game. He had happily named everyone and she had shaken all of their hands with a warm smile on her lips. Ben had regarded her warily and she had shaken it off as the chill of the night air. But there it was again, not quite trusting of the neighbour girl Harry had just randomly befriended a few days ago.

The team and the friends of the team decide they deserve to celebrate this win, mostly at the request of Harry.

Y/N tries to find a time to leave, to return to her place so she can prepare for her day at work tomorrow. But no excuses will be heard from Harry and she has a hard time saying no to his sparkling eyes and gorgeous grin that she’s growing far too accustomed to.

She’s ushered down to the closest pub with the rest of them and finds herself chatting with Charlotte’s boyfriend. He’s the most...normal. She’s not sure how to explain it, but he doesn’t seem to be regarding her as different, unlike every other one of Harry’s friends. They were all perfectly nice and cordial with her, but she just felt like she wasn’t a part of their group, their world and she didn’t know how to explain it.

Charlotte and Mitch are rather nice too, but they’re more reserved with her. They’re musicians, like Harry, and they somewhat have that air of awareness around them that Harry sometimes gets. She thinks it’s from the fame, having to constantly be wary of who is around you, what everyone is doing, what is happening next. She doesn’t mind it, it’s just not something she’s used to.

She wishes she could just throw back some drinks and she could allow herself to be more...well just be more. More of a presence, more of herself, but she has a job she has to get to bright and early. Tomorrow was Monday and for her that meant work. So she sips a beer that Harry insisted be on his tab and she makes small talk with Charlotte’s boyfriend about how he’s been helping her produce her first EP. Charlotte occasionally pops in when she hears her name, but mostly is conversing with Mitch over something silly. Y/N knows because they keep laughing.  

Harry is going around to just about everyone in the party and she watches as he happily talks with every one of his friends. He’s ecstatic and she wonders if she’s ever experienced happiness like he has.

At midnight she attempts to make a French exit, as her mother always called it, and slip away with little to no farewells, but Harry spots her before she can.

“You’re leaving already?” Harry asks loudly, the euphoria of winning his silly little game and drinking a fair amount of pints has him at his peak boisterity.

“I have work tomorrow,” she says warily, slumping slightly from the weight of Harry’s arm slinging around her shoulder.

He turns serious and straightens up slightly, his green eyes looking especially dark in the pubs dim lighting as they look her dead in the eye. “Let me walk you home.”

“I can get home by myself,” she laughs, shrugging off his hold. “Plus, the host can’t leave his own celebration.” She gestures to everyone else happily celebrating on a Sunday, somehow not bothered by the beginning of the average week.

He steps closer, his brow furrowing for the first time that night. One of his large hands raises to his tousled hair and he runs it through the tresses. He even nibbles at his lower lip as he contemplates his decision. Then quickly and suddenly, he makes up his mind,

“No, I’ll escort you. Can’t have my neighbour walk home this late alone. I’ll just leave my card with Mitch. He’ll settle up the tab.” He smiles at his perfect plan and she grimaces feeling slightly embarrassed that he would leave his friends to walk her home. “Won’t you Mitch?” Harry calls as he grabs his coat from the wall next to the door. Mitch simply nods and Harry yells his farewells, Y/N waves meekly.

“That was...interesting,” she mulls over her words as they walk through the cold night air outside of the pub.

“Amazing, right?” Harry speaks over her less enthusiastic voice.

“You have a lot of friends,” she mused, trying to sound less disheartened than she had in her last statement.

Harry only hums and shivers slightly from the cold. His breath comes clearly out in puffs in the cold night air. Y/N’s is muffled by her scarf wrapped tightly up to her chin. She’s tucked his face as far into it as possible but her nose won’t stop from freezing as they walk.

Her hand goes up to it and she rests her palm to the tip of it. The motion grabs Harry’s attention and he looks directly at her curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m freezing,” she muffles out, “This helps my cold nose not be so..cold.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulder and she easily folds into him, welcoming any warmth right now.

After another moment of silence and them enjoying each other’s warmth and slight smell of whatever perfumes they had chosen earlier that night as well as beer and wood of the pub, Harry nuzzles his head above hers and then asks her something.

“Was that overwhelming for you?”

She’s quiet, thankful his eyes can’t reach hers right now. He was too powerful with those things.

“I, um, a little. I just...I just realized today that I haven’t made a new friend since college outside of work and it was overwhelming just hanging out with you. So all of your friends as well, yeah, it was a bit much for me.”

Harry looks out at the empty street ahead of them and sighs in realization. In his excitement, he hadn’t accounted how she might have felt tonight until just now. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of her feelings, but other’s feelings slipped his mind so easily sometimes.

They round their street corner and she nuzzles back into his side.

“I’m sorry, love.” He rubs at her outer arm, “I didn’t think about it like that. I was just so excited for my plan to come together. Maybe next time, it’ll just be a couple of them rather than so many?”

“Sure,” she says quickly, wanting to make him happy, knowing how much he cared about his friends. “I feel like we need to hang out more with just you before I osmos into your friend group though if I’m being honest.”

“Well that can definitely be arranged,” he says and reluctantly lets go of her body. They’ve arrived at her door.

“I also want to see the inside of your house at some point.” She tugs at one of his hands before it can disappear into his warm coat pocket. “Houses,” she corrects.

“That can also be arranged,” Harry smiles with his lips closed. Pink lips and rosy cheeks extra bright from the cold. He plays with her fingers as the two stand close to one another, happy for the alone time and chalking the proximity up to heat sharing.

“You leave tomorrow right?” She finally asks.

His head falls and he sighs.

“Yeah…”

“It’s just a month,” she smiles, trying to stop Harry from being so dramatic. Especially when there was no logical reason for him to be so upset over not seeing his neighbour - she keeps telling herself.

“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and just fly out with me?” He pleads.

She throws her head back in laughter and shifts closer to him, her front porch light illuminating and shadowing every perfect place on Harry’s gorgeous face.

“Not even a chance.”

“That is a shame,” he takes an experimental step closer and she feels his breath fan across her cheeks at his last word.

She wrinkles his nose at the smell of his last beer, even though coming from him it was endearing.

Just as she feels him being to shift his head closer, she steps forward and gives him a tight hug.

“Goodnight Harry,” she whispers into his ear, “Safe travels.”

Then she’s stepping back and swiftly unlocking her door. She moves it slowly so as to not wake Rori and then Harry’s left alone and dumbfounded on her doorstep.

He definitely preferred being with her alone, but now he didn’t even have that chance until next month. And nonetheless she had just sidestepped his kiss with such ease he’s not even sure if he meant to kiss her. It had felt right, but why? Because it was cold and picture perfect? Or because he was enchanted by her and liked her as more than a new friend?

She slumps in her kitchen and fixes an Emergen-C to stave off the chill of the night and any germs that might have been lurking around the pub. She hopes when she walks to her bedroom she can check the front porch and see that Harry has gone home because she would hate to turn the light off on him.

How could he have expected her to kiss him just then? They’ve only just met each other a few weeks ago? And he’s Harry Styles and she just lives in the neighbourhood. What the actual fuck had happened to her life?

[krabjoons]

omg professor... what are you doing?!?!?! [pjm]

⮕ summary: park jimin is the hottest, most popular guy at school. the only catch? he also just so happens to be your teacher.

⮕ pairing: park jimin x reader, mentions of jaebum x reader

⮕ genre: smut, university!au, pwp

⮕ word count: 12.8k

⮕ rating: 18+, nsfw

⮕ warnings: hard dom!jimin x bratty-ish sub!y/n, professor!jimin x university student! y/n (he’s 27-28 ish and she’s 21-22), fuckboy!jaebum, pussy eating, fingering, thigh riding, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk (carries the whole fic tbh), degradation, edging, dumbification, impact play (pussy + ass spanking), manhandling, humiliation, exhibitionism, creampie, teasing, praise, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, crying, kissing/making out, jimin’s a meanie but y/n likes it (aka i go ham on the degradation and edging you have been warned), aftercare (like 500 words of it :P)

⮕ a/n: this took too long to come out and has literally been sitting in my drafts since august but here it is! writing this was definitely a rollercoaster because this was my first smut and honestly i felt like it was really bad at times but other times i was like wtf this is so hot,, ANYWAYS, i’m glad that i’m posting it and getting over that fear of imperfection. i hope that you guys enjoy this piece :). i would also like to add that please don’t hook up with your teachers… if you do, that’s on you i take no responsibility for that whatsoever lol. excuse the title i literally have no idea what to change it to but i like it the way it is tbh LMFAOOO OK I’LL STOP RAMBLING NOW BYEEE ILY ALL

University has never been when you’ve expected. When you first graduated high school and came here, you expected your late teenage years to be filled with just as much studying as high school combined with only a few parties here and there. You didn’t expect to make as many friends as you did and certainly did not expect to be known as the girl with the high grades and even higher alcohol tolerance. No longer are you the shy Y/N L/N that walked through the entrance gates on the first day of school; you’ve changed a lot.

It was a surprise to you. With academics taking precedence much of your life, the freedom university provided you with was welcomed - perhaps a little too much. You quickly learned that polar bear shots were great to keep you in a good mood at parties and that eating mangoes before smoking gave you a better high. And, you also learned about sex.

Admittedly, the first time you had a hookup, it was awkward and messy (at least for you… it was a guy, what else were you expecting?) but with more practice, you were able to get the hang of it. You’ve found your tastes and now willingly talk about who catches your eye to your best friends, something you never thought you’d do last year. 

Speaking of who catches your eye, as of now it’s Park Jimin. A really hot guy, according to your friends, and according to you, an even better voice. When you first walked into your Applications of Economics class, you nearly spit out your Starbucks drink after you saw the astonishingly handsome man with silky black hair in a dress shirt and tie. Surprisingly formal for a university student, you thought, but you weren’t one to talk, considering your current outfit of business casual.

Only, he wasn’t a student. He was your teacher. You should’ve put the pieces together earlier but you didn’t. Let's just say a Coconut Lime Refresher is good for hangovers, and you needed one desperately (basically, you were drunk as hell the night before and were still in the process of recovering). It certainly didn’t take long before all of campus was talking about the new economics professor who was hotter than hell. Girls (and some guys) immediately tried transferring into his class, one of them being your best friend Lisa, just to get a glimpse of how attractive he was. You remember a couple of girls offering you literal cash to transfer out, but you didn’t.

A good call, thinking about it now. You’ve gotten closer with Mr. Park, although it’s nothing too special yet, the two of you are on good terms and have even hugged before (you still get giddy thinking about it). Y/N from 2 years ago would be screaming her head off at how bold you’ve gotten, but now, you can’t bring yourself to care. Park Jimin is a hot guy, and you���re pretty hot too (if you must admit), so it would only be logical if the two of you could hook up. Unsurprisingly, you’ve lost your shame, nothing but thoughts of your teacher filling your mind in your spare time. 

So here you are, another day of university, as monotonous as ever. The only highlight of your day will be the morning, where you have a class with Mr. Park. You've started changing your style a bit recently, opting for more, let’s just leave it at provocative outfits. Walking into the room, you take your usual seat in the front, closest to Mr. Park’s desk. 

The class progresses like it normally does, starting with a review of the work from the last class and a discussion about the new material. "I’m going to give you guys this last half hour of class to review the material individually if you want or you can leave early, I don’t mind. I know it's a Friday so there’s gonna be some parties around campus, if you want to prepare yourselves for that then go ahead." Your professor glances around the room, smirking at you when mentioning the parties. You flush and look away, biting your lower lip. 

You make the decision to stay in the classroom while the majority of the other students file out of the room. "I'll be available for any questions," Jimin calls out, returning to his desk across from you.

Sticking to your reputation, you get a head start on the assignment and easily work through the homework. Surprisingly, you forget about Jimin for the time being, focused on finishing your assignment so that you have as little work as possible to do after classes. You don’t notice your teacher looking at you, admiring the way you put so much effort into the things you’re passionate about. Hearing a student call his name, he gets up to help him. 

Surprisingly, Mr. Park has assigned a disturbingly low amount of homework, probably because of the upcoming weekend and maybe a pop quiz later next week (ugh). You’ve finished your work in a mere twenty minutes and are surprised to find that Jimin is not at his desk when you look up from your laptop. You turn around, looking for him, and see that he’s helping another student. Whipping out your phone, you text your best friend Lisa (who just so conveniently, also thirsts over Jimin the same way you do).

to lisa: hey i finished classwork for mr park and have like 10 minutes of free time now lol

Instantly, she responds as if she wasn’t in class. Then again, she has never been one to pay too much attention to her professors. 

from lisa: ayo talk to him 

from lisa: also save me from bio i literally cannot

Smiling slightly, you respond to her.

to lisa: i WOULD but he’s helping other students

from lisa: then be like "m- mister park, i- need help please" and use puppy eyes 

to lisa: LMFAOO PLEASE he’d be like whats wrong with you since when did you struggle in this class

to lisa: but i mean, anything to hear him talk i guess 

from lisa: god i'm so jealous you have him early so you can hear his morning voice it must be hot asf

to lisa: it is omg

from lisa: god what if he moans like that it'd be such a turn on

to lisa: dUDE STOP NO the way this is literally true like if he has a good sip of coffee or a pastry he likes hes gonna go all "mmmm I wish you could try this" pls its so fking hot

to lisa: like SIR I WANNA TRY YOU or you to try me no complaints

from lisa: wtf he finishes his breakfast before my class so i can't even hear it tf I hate it here

to lisa: u have him right after my block bro at leAST you have him 

to lisa: what ab the people who don't even have him

from lisa: idk what i'd do honestly. imagine not having a literal sex god teaching you every day i pity those who dont

You’re about to type out a response when a smooth voice sounds out from behind you, "alright guys, you’re good to go. Have a good weekend!" You jump in your seat, not realizing that your teacher was helping the student right behind you for the past five minutes. 

As the rest of the class begins to pack up, you pray that he hasn’t seen you talking about your sexual fantasies less than five feet away from him. Mr. Park doesn’t say anything, so you must be in the clear, right? You’re hoping and praying that he didn’t find out, but your heart rate is already rising and you’re getting a sick feeling in your stomach. Your gut must be trying to tell you something.

Well, your gut’s telling you that the universe must not be on your side because as soon as you stand up, he says, "Ms. L/N, can you stay a bit after class? I have a few things I want to discuss with you." Cheeks flushing hot, you squeak out a "yes, sir."

When everyone has left and it’s just the two of you left in the room, Jimin pulls up a seat next to his desk. "Sit," he commands, leaning on his desk. You scramble to your feet and walk over, mind buzzing with thoughts. Oh god, what if he tells the administration department? Then you’d definitely be punished and maybe even kicked out of the school. Maybe you could make up a story? Oh, it’s ANOTHER Park Jimin, haha. Definitely NOT my teacher. Even if you did, they could go the rest of the texts between you and Lisa and you’d be screwed. And not to be petty or anything, but being kicked out would mean that you wouldn’t be able to be in Jimin’s class anymore and wouldn’t be able to see him. Oh, and the bigger problem would be that you’d also be unable to get your degree.

You start internally panicking, heart rate picking up even when your teacher rolls up his sleeves and leans down in front of you. Stop thinking about dirty things FOR ONCE, Y/N, half of you screams, while the other half of you has already started fantasizing about things which shouldn’t be thought about, especially with one of the people in the fantasies less than a couple of feet in front of you. With his hands on his thighs, the ones you’ve thought about riding far too often, he smirks.

"So, I heard you wanna try me?"

You gulp, absolutely mortified that Jimin caught you. Yes, he was attractive, and you would do practically anything to fuck him, but you didn’t expect to be humiliated into admitting it. "Um, no sir! I mean, maybe, but not in the way you think!" you ramble. Shut up, Y/N, part of you screams. You’re only digging yourself into a deeper hole.

"Yeah, sure. Because I definitely didn’t see what you were talking about with your friend. Be honest, Y/N," he says, smirking down at you. "You think about me, don't you? I'm not new to this. I see the way girls like you look at me. I know the way they talk about me when they think I can't hear. I know the way you think. Who would've thought? Little Miss L/N, all prim and proper on the outside, would be so filthy deep down?"

"Sir, I- uh. I-" you stutter out, cheeks burning furiously hot.

"You what? You're not going to try to prove your innocence now, are you? Not when you've gotten this far, hm? Getting to do what you’ve wanted after all this time?" he asks, standing up from his desk, and walking over to you, kneeling in front of you so that you were forced to hold eye contact. 

"You know, nobody else has been as daring as you, my dear," he hums softly. "Sending promiscuous texts about their teacher in the very class they're in. Rubbing their thighs together every time their teacher catches their eye." You shift in your seat, Jimin's words sparking the slightest of fires in your core. "Gazing ever so obviously at said teacher’s dick, too. Y/N, you amaze me. So, so brilliant. yet so, so naughty. You thought that nobody else would catch onto you? Unfortunately, you thought wrong."

"I'm s- sorry sir," you whisper out.

"You're just sorry that you got caught, Y/N. You'll keep doing this even after today," Jimin chuckles lowly. "Possibly even more after today," he adds on, taking note of how his words have affected you. Your pupils are dilated and your cheeks are starting to get flushed. "Such a dirty girl. I'm here trying to scold you, and here you are, getting turned on by my words. Is this why you ask so many questions, doll? To hear my voice?"

You bite your lip in a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness, nodding imperceptibly. The logical, studious side of you is thinking, oh my god, is this really happening? Am I going to fuck my teacher? I really shouldn’t be doing this. The relaxed, easygoing side of you (pretty much your horny side) is thinking, finally, it’s happening. I’m going to FINALLY be fucking Park Jimin.

"What else have you imagined about my voice, hm? How I'd whisper into your ear while pounding into you? Hear me moan as your tight cunt clenches around my dick? Tell you how good you're making me feel? Reminding you how much of a slut you are to fuck your teacher in the middle of his classroom, where anyone could walk in?" he continues, seeing you shift in your seat more. "Would you like that?" he asks.

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I would," you whisper. You have to consciously clench your thighs together to keep them from spreading at his words.

"Hm, I don't believe you. Try again another time, darling," he sighs, leaning back on his knees, getting ready to stand up. You don't want this, whatever it is, to be over that quickly so you make up your mind. Swallowing your pride and succumbing to the dull throb in your panties, you pout.

"But professor, I really do want you. I want you to make me feel good and I wanna make you feel good. Please," you whine out. "I wanna be thinking about you all the time because you fucked me so well in class. And when my friends talk about wanting to get in your pants, I want to be the only one who already has. Please, Mr. Park. I need you." you breathe out. At this point, the pressure in your core is rising steadily, and only intensifies when you see the way your teacher's eyes are glazed over in lust and eyebrows are furrowed. Your eyes travel down the expanse of his face to his lips, plump and pink. Oh, the number of times you've wished to kiss them, imagined them suckling on your clit. And now that Jimin knows, perhaps it's finally coming true. 

"You'd like that, hm? God, you're so dirty," Jimin mutters, inching closer to you, cautiously placing a hand on your knee. Your legs instantly part to make room for him in between and he inches forward. "Does dirty talk really turn you on that much, Y/N? I can smell you through your panties," he remarks.

"Mr. Park, please do something," you whimper. And with that, Jimin pulls you over to his desk and sits you on the edge. You spread your legs and he stands in between them. He leans his head closer to you until he's next to your ear.

"Want me to get you off with my words? You seem to like that already and I haven't even tried, doll. Or perhaps," he pauses, bunching up your skirt so that it pools at your waist. "You want me to touch you?"

You nod eagerly, chest heaving in anticipation. "I want both Mr. Park. I want you," you purr salaciously. And with that, your teacher lets out a low growl and presses his lips onto yours harshly. It’s already bruising, but you just can’t get enough of the way he tastes of caramel and coffee and how ridiculously soft his lips are, so you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in even closer. He seems a little put off by how eager you are, but once he hears you sigh in enjoyment, he melts into your eager grasp. 

His hands start sliding down your waist so that they are resting on your upper thighs, and he rubs comforting circles into them, trailing them closer and closer to your panties. He breaks off from the kiss to look down and smirks back at you before joining his lips to yours with even more fervor and you praise yourself for deciding to wear your lace thong today. You feel his tongue slide against your lips, asking for permission to enter and your mouth immediately complies. 

The feeling of his hot breath on your lips and thumbs rubbing against the juncture of your thighs has you feeling needy for more. Jimin swirls the tip of his tongue against yours, the filthy action turning you on even more. You moan into his mouth and thread your fingers through his hair, causing him to let out a low groan.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the two of you break apart. Chest heaving up and down, you take note of your teacher's face. His lips are redder and plumper than ever before. His cheeks have the faintest blush on them. His eyes, the ones that crinkle into a happy smile whenever you answer a question correctly in class, are now clouded over with deep lust.

"Get onto all fours. On the desk," Jimin commands, and you immediately comply. Now your ass is facing Jimin and you're very nearly completely exposed to him, save the thong you're wearing.

"God, you're such a slut," Jimin moans out at the sight. "Do you get dressed up like this just so you can get fucked in class? Such a short fucking skirt that I can see whatever you're wearing underneath whenever you bend over, hm? You wanted me to give in to you, doll?" When you nod weakly, he chuckles, "I don't think so."

Arching your back so your ass sticks out even more, you whine, "professor, please fuck me. I'm so fucking horny, please." Jimin cups your pussy from outside your panties and leans over you, "I don't think so, kitten. I'm the one calling the shots here." Your pussy flutters in response and Jimin slaps it lightly, chuckling. The brief stimulation has your cunt clenching around nothing.

He spreads your knees slightly and begins trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs to the arch of your back. Feeling his breath so close to your core has you getting wetter by the minute in anticipation. He finally hovers over your back, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, muttering, "I'm going to wreck you, Y/N", and you feel yourself clench in excitement. 

"Then do it," you whisper, and Jimin hooks his fingers around the waistband of your thong and pulls it down, so slow that it's almost painful, exposing your heat to the cool air of the classroom and causing you to shiver in response. 

You don't see it, but his eyes widen seeing the strings of your slick connecting your pussy to your panties. He takes a look at your core and his mouth starts watering. You're soaking and clenching around nothing, thighs shaking ever so slightly in anticipation.

He flattens his tongue and licks a flat stripe up your pussy, from your clit to your entrance. He pauses to suck some of your juices from it, but your cunt just keeps leaking them out. He runs his tongues through your folds over and over again until you let out a wanton moan.

Encouraged by your reaction, he hooks his arms around the side of your hips, nuzzling closer into your pussy. He laps at your cunt and purposely avoids your clit, only heightening the pressure in your core.

"Mr. Park," you whine out, pushing your hips back. "Please. More," you pant out. Suddenly, Jimin spanks your right ass cheek, rubbing his hand over the fleshy globe soothingly afterward. You let out a little yelp and turn around to catch his eyes. 

"More what?" he spits out, smiling at you evilly. "My little slut's gotta tell me what she wants. How else would I give it to her?" your mind is foggy, pleasure causing you to lose track of everything other than the man behind you. "W- want you," you garble out, "t- to play with my clit too." 

"What's the magic word, doll?" Jimin teases, breath fanning over your slit, causing your walls to clench erratically. "Please, Mr. Park," you whine, pushing your cunt closer to his face. He smirks at you, avoiding your advances. 

"Good girl," he praises before finally positioning himself just barely in front of your clit. You feel him blow cool air onto your slit, but the temperature of it is magnified even more due to how wet you are. You whine out, expressing your displeasure, and Jimin finally indulges you by taking your throbbing button between his plush lips.

"F- fuck, sir, yes! Right there, please," you squeal, back arching even more. Jimin hums, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can feel yourself growing wetter, your entrance squeezing out more and more of your arousal down to where Jimin's lips are sucking. He momentarily pauses to flatten his tongue out, letting your juices drip onto them and slurping them up eagerly. The obscene noises behind you combined with the low thrum of student life just outside the classroom door mesh together to have you realize where exactly the two of you are doing this.

You glance at the clock, and your eyes widen. "Prof- oh my god, Pr- Professor Park," you moan out, trying to keep your focus. Jimin again hums, making you jolt in pleasure. "I- uh, there’s only ten minutes until the next block of classes start. I need t- to leave in around five." When Jimin releases from you with a pop, you can feel your slick running down your thighs and some dripping onto his desk. You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of everyone walking in during class to see the mess Jimin made of you on his desk and again squeeze around nothing.

"Well then," Jimin hums lazily, "guess you better cum within five minutes if you want to cum at all." He dives back into your heat, tongue skillfully running through your folds. He cycles between kitten licking and delivering harsh sucks to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance. You grind against his face in desperation to reach your release, and just when you finally feel it hurtling towards you at an alarming rate, suddenly, Jimin gets up.

He leans over you, trailing a hand up your slick-ridden thigh to cup your bare heat and mutters lowly in your ear, "time’s up." Your heart drops in frustration, and you whine out. Grinding into his palm, you beg for him to touch you once again, knowing nothing but how good he was making you feel just seconds ago. "Mr. P- Park, please. Make me cum," you cry out.

Jimin spanks your pussy, a wet echo sounding through the room. You jolt forward and your cunt leaks out even more of your arousal in response to the combination of pain and pleasure. "I said no," he hisses, "you couldn't cum in time, you don't deserve to cum." 

"God, look at you, you're a mess. Bent over and spread out so desperately for me. You taste so sweet, doll. So responsive, too," Jimin murmurs, lazily rubbing your slit. He's, once again, avoiding your clit and driving you insane. Your sensitive nub is now swollen and throbbing with need, slick with your arousal. 

"Has anyone touched you as well as I do, Y/N?" he asks. When you shake your head, he slaps your cunt again, another wet sound echoing through the room. "Words, baby girl," he goads, fingers dancing through your folds. 

"N- no, sir. they can’t make me feel half as good as you did. I’ve al- I’ve always been thinking about having you touch m- my cunt and making me cum really hard. and I- shit I’m so needy sir, I wanna cum," you garble out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You feel Jimin’s hand leave your pussy, exposing your soaked heat to the cool air of the room. Slowly, he pulls your thong up your thighs and the light touches make you clench in desperation and whine out.

He marvels at the sight of you so fucked out in front of him. The way his top student was falling apart at the slightest touches he gave you. And the words you said. God, to have you say such filthy things in comparison to your gentle demeanor, all because of him, it really did something to him.

Jimin finishes clothing you and presses a kiss to the top of your ass and walks across the room to get some tissues to clean up the mess you made. Still perched on the desk, you watch him needily, thighs rubbing together to relieve some of the pressure from being denied your orgasm. "So I really don’t get to cum?" You ask meekly, holding back a sob. "I need to cum, Mr. Park."

He chuckles, "there’s a difference between need and want, doll. You want to cum, you don't need to cum. But what you do need," he returns to you, leaning down so that his face is right in front of yours, "is to get to your next class." Your face, once eagerly lit up in anticipation, has now fallen in disappointment.

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a "fine" and get off his desk, feeling your arousal make your thighs stick together. Your panties are uncomfortably damp and you’re so wet you can even smell yourself. "Can you make me cum later?" you question Jimin, sliding closer to him and playing with his tie, praying that he’ll be the one to make you release instead of having to do it yourself when you get home.

"If you play nice I might. If not, then… we’ll see," he hums, handing you a tissue to clean yourself up while heading to wipe down his desk. "I have a lunch meeting in the second half of the lunch block, so if you really need me, I’ll be here before then." 

You grin and nod in excitement. "Cool! so I’ll-" you begin before the first students from the next class start filing in, making you jump. "The door wasn’t locked?" you whisper frantically to him. "We could have been caught, Jimin! Are you crazy?!"

He smirks at you, "didn’t you say you wanted it that way? Where anyone could walk in? I only did what you asked, doll." You’re left speechless as he continues. "Anyways, you should be in your next class pretty soon. I’ll write a note to your professor just in case you’re late. But get going, yeah? I’ll see you in time for our meeting." He hands you a slip of paper and straightens up, tossing the dirty tissues into the trash can in the corner of the room. 

"Okay class, we’re going to get started soon. I presume you all did the reading, so just prepare for the discussion we’re going to be having about it when the bell rings," he calls out to the class. Turning to face you, he questions quietly with genuine concern, "you okay? Did I push you too much for our first time?" 

Your mind swirls with thoughts. Our first time. The words fill you with giddy excitement. It’s just the two of you that know about this, the dirty things you were doing just minutes ago, very nearly getting caught. Knowing that this won’t be the only moment you guys are doing this, fills you with excitement.

"On the contrary, actually," you tease your teacher with a smile. "It was really nice honestly, but perhaps, you didn’t do enough." You bite your lip at the way Jimin's eyes darken and he looks away. "Get to class, Ms. L/N. The bell will ring any minute," he says lowly, jaw slightly clenched. Your core throbs at the sight and you head towards the door. 

"Goodbye, Mr. Park. Thank you!" you call out, catching sight of Lisa, who raises her eyebrows at you teasingly and mouths text me. Blushing, you nod at her before leaving the room to go to your next class.

Being "one of the smartest students on campus" comes with its perks. Like right now, for example. You always (somehow) come to class overprepared, so when your next teacher gives you a day to work on your project (which you've already finished), you head to the back of the room to text Lisa in private. 

from lisa: dude wtf was that you were literally talking to Mr. Park outside of ur class time with him

from lisa: omg wait don't tell me you fucked him

from lisa: did you

to lisa: NO I DID NOT OMG I wish tho lmao

to lisa: I was asking him for help on the paper he's assigning us and to proofread it and stuff before I submit it

from lisa: omg I forgot he assigned us that shit

to lisa: dude lmao its due in a week or so you have plenty of time

from lisa: ugh literally he's such a hottie why does he have to be so into teaching

to lisa: sis commitment to something is hot

from lisa: omg ur right wait a sec tho

from lisa: dude

from lisa: omg

from lisa: he definitely has a boner

Knowing that you were likely the cause of it, you shift in your seat cockily, smiling slyly to yourself while looking down.

to lisa: whAT

to lisa: wait how big is it

from lisa: ok I dont think he’s fully hard yet he's like semi hard but barely 

from lisa: LMFAO Y/N don't worry I think he’s packing seems kinda thick too

Taking in a deep breath, you look up at the ceiling. You imagine him slowly sinking into you and making you whimper at his size. Him seeing your face and growling, "if you’re really a good girl, you should be able to take it." You cross your legs tightly and rock up and down in a lame attempt to diminish the rising pressure between your thighs and look back down at your phone.

to lisa: pls thats so hot

from lisa: IKR I want him to r a i l me

to lisa: or eat me out… have you sEEN those lips of his wtf

from lisa: on god do not get me started

to lisa: pls i bet he’d be the type to tease you

Oh Lisa, if only you knew the truth behind those words.

from lisa: YES hes lowkey cocky bc he knows like the entire fucking population simps for him

from lisa: he’s def gonna make you beg to cum

to lisa: pls thats hot do not get me riled up in class istg

from lisa: too late i've already started babe ;)

You continue texting Lisa throughout the entirety of your class. Finally, you look at the clock and seeing that there are only a few more minutes till the class ends, you wrap up your conversation with her.

to lisa: hey btw i’m gonna be coming to lunch late… save me a seat at our regular spot?

from lisa: when ur best friend is a teachers pet :(( fiNE I guess I will

to lisa: love u!! xx

from lisa: love you too nerd xoxo

The bell finally rings, signaling the start of the lunch break and you immediately stand up and walk out the door, bidding your teacher goodbye and thanks.

Running into the bathroom, you do a quick check of your appearance. You tug up your skirt a bit higher and tuck in your shirt so that your outfit accentuates your curves. You glance at your face and notice how abnormally large your pupils are in comparison to most days. Jimin has completely ruined you today, just like he said he would. I'm going to wreck you, Y/N. His words echo in your ears as you make your way out to his classroom. Trying to ignore how uncomfortably wet your panties are, you knock on the door to his room. 

You hear a smooth voice answer with a, "come in," and take a deep breath before opening the door to see Jimin sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. He scans you up and down, eyes taking in every inch of your figure. "Nice outfit alterations," he notes, patting his laps as a hint for you to sit on it. You quickly lock the door and make your way to him, placing one leg on each side of him so that you’re now straddling his thighs. "Is this all for me?" he asks and you tuck your head down, suddenly shy now that all his attention is on you again. 

"Mhm, depends on whether you like it or not" you smile timidly, hands reaching out to play with his tie again. He laughs. "Princess, I’m conflicted. You do look very nice, all dolled up for me like this. It’d be a shame if I were to ruin your efforts. But on the other hand," he remarks, "you’ve very nearly crossed the line for indecent exposure. What if another teacher caught you like this? you would get in trouble, hm? And what if it were a student to see you like this? What would they think of you then?" He questions, causing your cheeks to burn at his words.

"They would think I- that I’m a whore. I- and that I dress up like this just so I can pass my classes," you whisper out, biting your lips in a combination of excitement and humiliation. You can feel yourself start to throb again and you start to rut against Jimin’s thighs. He shifts you over so that you are sitting on only one and slightly bounces his leg. The stimulation to your neglected cunt sends a shock running through your body and you squeeze your thighs around his.

"Look at you, so fucking desperate to cum. You think that you aren’t a little whore already, so needy for me this quickly, hm? Do you really think you deserve to cum?" He hums, admiring the way you’re worked up. He pushes up your skirt and slaps your thigh just underneath your ass. You shift away as a reaction, causing your clit to get the stimulation it finally deserved. The way your underwear rubs against your neglected bundle of nerves causes you to let out a groan and drop your head to Jimin's shoulder. He spanks you this time, making you yelp. "I asked you a question, doll."

"Mmhm, yeah," you whine out, "I deserve t- to cum, sir." At this point, your hips are moving on their own accord, shifting back and forth desperately against Jimin's thigh. He grabs your waist tightly, holding you still. "Look at me," he commands, bouncing his thigh. You mewl into his shoulder, the change in motion making you lose focus. He spanks you again, the sound echoing around the room. "Listen to directions, sweetheart. Or else you’ll get punished," he warns.

You lift your head to look at Jimin, faces just inches apart. His eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips. Slowly, you lean towards him, closing the distance between you two. He gives into your eager kiss and you glide your hands up his firm chest to run your fingers through his hair. He starts bouncing you on his thigh and you groan into his mouth. Breaking apart panting, you place your forehead against Jimin’s, moving your hips back and forth harder to increase the pressure going to your clit.

"God, Y/N, you’re so wet," Jimin pants while looking down at the way your clothed pussy drags over his thigh. "I can feel you soaking through my slacks," he says, shifting you over. just like he said, there is now a wet spot on his thigh from where you just were. Thankfully, it’s barely noticeable, but if you focus enough, you can see it.

"What are you going to do about it, hm? I have classes to teach, meetings to attend. Do you want people to see the mess you made all over me?" He hisses, spanking you to elicit an answer. "N- no, sir. I’m s- sorry," you whisper out, eyes clenched, still rutting against him. You feel your orgasm bubbling up as every second passes.

"I don't think you're sorry, doll. Look at you making a mess all over me through your panties. You're absolutely soaked, so fucking desperate to cum," he tuts, clenching his thigh muscles purposely. You gasp and shove your head into the crook of Jimin's neck, letting out a low groan.

"Mr. Park, I'm so wet because of you. I- god, I wanna cum. please. I'm so close," you mewl into him, legs starting to tighten around his thigh.

You shut your eyes, feeling your impending orgasm build up. Right when you're about to let go, Jimin holds your hips in place tightly, preventing you from moving. Squeaking out, you make an attempt to shift your pussy over his thighs. It's no use because you can feel it start to drift away slowly and you look at him in need. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you plead, "S- sir I need you to touch me again. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Jimin smiles cockily, lifting you onto his desk and spreading your legs after stripping you of your panties. You lean back so that you face the ceiling. Your eyes roll back once you feel him take your clit into his mouth. You moan and arch your back off of the desk, thighs involuntarily clenching around his head. 

"God, Mr. Park, yes! O- oh, fuck, please," you blabber out incoherently, your mind hazy and overwhelmed with pleasure. "More," you whimper out without thinking.

Jimin disconnects from your heat to look up at you, murmuring, "Greedy little slut wants it all, huh? Won't even ask nicely for it. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Beg for it, and I might just give it to you."

"God, I- I want it all, professor," you call out, wiggling your hips in search of stimulation that never comes. "Want you to stuff me with your f- fingers and lick my p- pussy and make me cum. Want you to fuck me r- raw with your fat cock from behind and sp- and spank me. Want you to ma- make me cry from cumming so hard just as much as you have from not letting me cum. A- and I want you to leave hi- hickies on my thighs so that if I bend over, p- people are gonna know how much of a cockslut I am, just for you."

"Yeah? Well, I can tell you this," Jimin says, fingers dancing up your thigh closer to your sick-ridden core. "You are a cockslut. So fucking dirty. Most people come to class to learn but it seems that you come here to get off." He inserts a finger into you and your walls immediately clamp down on it. He moves the digit in and out of you smoothly, your arousal allowing the smoothest of motions. "You like that, baby? Finally having something in that tight cunt of yours?" You nod at his question, adding on "want more, sir."

"Not enough? Greedy little bitch. look at you, so needy. What are you gonna do when I have my cock out, hm?" He shoves a second finger into you and starts curling them into your heat. You arch your back to the ceiling and he hovers over you. For a moment, there’s nothing but the squelch of his fingers in your wet pussy and your panting as he stares into your eyes. Jimin's eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting his lip - he’s focusing on something.

That "something" becomes apparent when, all of a sudden, you nearly sit upright and let out a loud moan of pleasure, "Fuck, Mr. Park! right there." His fingers continue rubbing that special spot inside you repeatedly and your legs start shaking ever so slightly. You look back at him to see a smug smile on his face. "I found it," he chuckles as you writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss you, lips melding together.

He keeps fingering you, bringing his thumb up to ghost over your clit ever so slightly to provide enough pleasure to bring you close to your orgasm but just not enough to make you cum. You whine against his lips and he breaks the kiss, asking "you want to cum, doll?" to which you weakly nod. "Then fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much of a little slut you are for me. How you’re a cocksleeve for me, so wet and needy as soon as I touch you, so ready for me to fuck you." He stills his digits inside of you and you buck your hips on them, rolling your pelvis repeatedly in an attempt to get to your orgasm. You reach down to provide some stimulation to your clit, but he smacks it away.

"Jim- professor, it’s not enough. I- I need more, please." Tears start welling up in your eyes at the thought of not cumming for the third time. Jimin kisses your temple, the gentle action reminding you that he’s not going to do something you can’t handle. "Please, Mr. Park. I wanna cum," you whine out, hips jerking back and forth in a pathetic attempt to chase after your high.

"Show me then, Y/N. how much you want it. A good girl can show me that she wants it bad enough and will make herself come on my fingers alone. She’s not greedy. She doesn’t need to touch herself too. She just needs my fingers to cum. I know you can be a good girl,  Y/N," he goads. "Can you show me what the pretty little face of yours looks like when you cum? I bet you’ll look so beautiful, even more than you are right now, all fucked out for me."

"Hhngh, sir I- I’m trying," you pant out. "It’s just not enough. I promise I'm a good girl, I swear. Please let me cum. Oh god, I wanna cum." At this point, you’re nearly crying. You haven't ever been edged like this and are desperate for release.

Jimin sees this and purposefully retracts his hand from your cunt covered in your honeyed juices, glistening in the lights of his classroom. "Professor Park, please," you choke out weakly, chest constricting in disappointment. With a soft smile, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and cleans them off, savoring the flavor of you. 

"Be a good girl for the rest of the day and then I’ll let you cum, baby," he hums. "You promise?" you plead, holding onto his arm desperately. 

"I promise, Y/N," he kisses you gently and you taste the remnants of yourself on his tongue, the filthy action causing your clit to throb even more. Combined with the way your cunt is still clenched tight in preparation for an orgasm that won’t come soon, you can definitely say that you can't wait for the school day to come to an end.

"Go to lunch, doll. I have a meeting soon. Don’t think of me too much, hm? Gotta keep those straight A’s the way they are," Jimin teases, pulling down your skirt slowly, fingers just grazing your thighs. He grabs your panties. "Oh, and I think I'll keep these for now," he says cheekily, putting them in his pocket. "They didn’t seem to be doing their job when you were riding my thigh."

You watch him in shock, cheeks flushing red hot. "I- okay. uh, I’m going to lunch now, Jimin. Have a good lunch and meeting, I guess?" you say awkwardly, shuffling to the door with him, tugging your skirt down. 

"Jimin? We’re on a first-name basis already, Y/N? Don’t let anybody hear you call me that in class, baby," he winks, holding the door open and you nod, preoccupied with the little "situation" your skirt just barely hides. You can feel yourself still leaking down your inner thighs, and pray that nobody’s going to notice when you walk into the dining hall.

"Ugh! Bitch, what took you so long?" Lisa exclaims when you sit down next to her with your lunch. You pout. "I wasn't even gone for that long."

"Ha! That long, my ass. You were gone for more than half of the break! I had to tell Jaebum and his cronies to fuck off on my own! I’m not as intimidating when you’re not around, though, so I don’t think it worked. They’ll probably come over again soon." Lisa rolls her eyes. You snort, "One of them probably likes you, that’s why they keep bothering you."

"They just like any female and will take what they can get," Lisa mutters, "but anyway! How was your meeting with Mr. Park? Did you solve his boner problem?" she wiggles her eyebrows.

You clear your throat. "No, Lisa I did not. I'm obviously above that," you say in a sarcastic tone. "I simply offered to," you tease. Lisa squeals and slaps your arm in response. "But for real though," she says. "Anyone that gets to hook up with mister Park Jimin automatically wins at life," and you hum in agreement.

You scan at the dining hall around you and catch the eye of Jaebum sitting with his friend group. He winks at you and you roll your eyes and stand up, "come on Lisa, let’s go. Those assholes are going to come over any second if we stay here any longer." You drag her to your guys’ next class.

The bell rings and the two of you burst out of the classroom. Thank god that’s over. Only one more class left, you think to yourself, gripping your books tighter to your chest in excitement.

"Jesus fuck, since when were you this eager to get to the last class of the day, Y/N? I thought you loved staying in school for as long as possible," Lisa huffs out. You steer her into the direction of your locker, right across from Jimin’s classroom. 

"I'm picking up my books, you dummy. Be grateful I paid for this locker because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to put your books here." You put in the code and exchange your books while Lisa checks herself in the magnetic mirror attached to the door. you have to be careful when bending over because otherwise you’ll flash the entire school, so you do a weird sit-squat thing. "Geeking out over lockers? You act as if you’re still in high school, Y/N," Lisa teases. "Only during the school day," you wink up at her.

Lisa spots someone through the reflection of the mirror and groans out. "Incoming," she warns, rolling her eyes and turning around. "Wha-" you begin when you get cut off by a smooth voice behind you.

"Damn, L/N. didn’t know you wore skirts this short on campus. Looks good on you," the guy winks. "But it would look even better on my bedroom floor." You hold back a gag and turn to Lisa, raising your eyebrows in exasperation. 

"Wow, I see the originality," Lisa says in the most sickeningly sweet voice. "What do you want, Jaebum?" He chuckles and places an arm over your head, leaning over you. "Well, I’m having a party tonight, and it would be amazing if you two little ladies could attend. Be mine and Jackson’s plus one?" he says. You’re about to say no when he leans in closer to you, inches away from your face, "plus you can get the high-quality drinks for free, not the cheap booze we leave out for the randos who show up."

"You’re probably gonna drug them or something. No thanks, dickwad." you huff out after a second’s hesitation, pushing him away, ready to go to your next class. "Nah, baby. I may be a fuckboy but at least I've got morals. Whaddya say? You get me off, I get you off? Maybe make you cum so many times it starts hurting? You look like you haven’t been able to get an orgasm in a while, you’re so uptight, L/N," Jaebum smirks. 

"You fuckin-" you start to hiss out but you’re shut off again. This time it’s by someone different. Jimin. "Mr. Lim, I don’t think it’s necessarily appropriate to discuss your sexual endeavors while in an academic setting. I’ll be letting you off with a warning for now." He turns to you, eyes flitting across your DIY skimpy outfit. You feel your cunt leak more of your honeyed juices under his piercing gaze and clamp your thighs together to keep them from dripping down your thighs. "And Ms. L/N, I expected better from you. You’re not typically one to do these things in a school environment. Get to class, the two of you," he says, turning back to his classroom.

"Oh," he adds, "and Y/N. fix your outfit. I would hate to see you get dress coded by a teacher who isn’t as lenient." You, Lisa, and Jaebum stare at his back in shock as he heads inside his classroom. 

"Well, uh, that just happened," Lisa states, turning to you. "Ready to go?" you nod numbly, mind swirling with embarrassment and excitement as you tug down your skirt. The two of you walk to the last class of the day while Jaebum calls out, "my place after 11, L/N! I’ll be waiting!", making you wince. Great, now a bunch of people are gonna think you’re hooking up with him.

The last bell of the day finally rings, and you head to your locker after bidding Lisa goodbye. You put your books in your locker and head to the bathroom to fix your clothes. You decide to tease Jimin even more by adjusting your skirt so that it ends just at the bottom of your ass. It’s a terribly risky decision; if you walk too fast, you risk flashing everyone. You’ve tried to wipe the slick off the juncture of your thighs, but it keeps getting replaced with more of your arousal.

You speed walk down the halls and fling open the door to see that Jimin isn’t in his classroom - or so you think. Once you take a few steps into the room, you hear the door shut behind you and lock. Jimin looks at you up and down. "You didn’t fix your outfit, Ms. L/N. Looks like I’ll have to dress code you for indecent exposure then," he hums, heading to his desk to take out a slip of paper.

"Wait Jimin, what? I thought we were- um. You know, going to-" you splutter out, realizing he was actually serious. You can’t have this on your academic record! What would your parents think?

"Going to what? Fuck? Seems like you already have someone else for that, Y/N," he shakes his head, grabbing a pen. You reach forward quickly to stop him, hand, gripping his forearm in desperation. 

"No Mr. Park, I- I never told Jaebum yes. I just-" you try to explain, but Jimin cuts you off. "You what?" he asks bitingly, taking you by surprise. "Did you think that you could just come back and hop on my dick after nearly making out with another guy? God, you really are a slut, aren’t you?"

You rub your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the steadily mounting pressure in your core at Jimin’s words. "Look at you, I told you to fix your outfit and you fucking pulled up your skirt. You pulled it up. You don’t listen to me, talk to your friends about how much you want me to rail you, and yet let other guys make plans to hook up with you. And you expect me to let you cum after all of that?" he continues, noticing the effect he has on you. "You really think I should let you cum, Y/N? I'll tell you what I think. I think I should leave you like this, dripping and needy for me. So ready to get fucked by me but not being able to."

Your eyes widen, "no, please professor, no!" 

"Should I jack off in front of you and not let you touch me? Maybe then would you learn your lesson? Or maybe I should spank your ass till it’s blue you’re unable to sit. Would that work, hm? What if I just send you back to the dorms? You could ask Jaebum to touch you, even if he can’t make you half the mess I can," he continues, pushing you onto his desk. He grabs your jaw and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him, humiliated, with tears in your eyes.

"Aw," he pouts sarcastically, "is the baby crying? Because I didn’t let her cum? Well, princess, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Little cocksluts like you don’t deserve to cum so easily."

"P- professor, please. You can punish me. Teach me a lesson. B- but just please let me cum." You whimper out, attempting to cross your legs together to assuage your aching clit, but Jimin stops you by holding your knee with his other hand.

He slowly trails his hands up your bare thigh, admiring the way your soft skin seems to get chills at his touch. He pushes you back onto the desk and you prop yourself up your elbows to look at him. "Are you a cockslut, Y/N?" he asks, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. 

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I’m nothing but a hole for you to fuck," you whimper meekly as he pushes up your skirt. He pushes apart your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the desk. "Damn right you are. Nothing but a little whore that I can use to get off. I’m going to fuck you here in school like you’ve never been fucked before. And this dick you’ve been thinking about all this time, it’s going to finally be in you, and I better not hear any complaints," Jimin growls, pumping his length in his hand. "No sir," you whimper out.

"You on the pill?" he asks, to which you reply with a yes. He teases your slit with the pink head of his cock and your entrance flutters at the touch. "But on another note, tell me if you want to stop. I don’t want to push you too much."

You smile, "Jimin, you’re being too kind. I promise I'll tell you. But I did say before perhaps you weren’t doing enough. Mr. Park, I want you to ruin me," you bite your lips, mimicking his words from earlier in the day. He cocks his head in amusement. 

"Don’t worry princess, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing." Without warning, he thrusts forward into your heart, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. The girth of his cock stretches open your cunt with painful pleasure. Once he’s sheathed inside you, you can feel him very near your cervix. 

You let out a shaky breath but it’s cut off as he continues thrusting in and out of you, wet slaps echoing through the room. "M- Mr. Park-" you moan incoherently. 

"Fucking take it, Y/N. You wanted me to ruin you? Well here I am doing it; be fucking grateful." he rolls his hips into yours, hands gripping your sides harshly.

"Th- thank you Mr. Park, s- so much," you nearly sob out, almost crying at the relief of being fucked. You’re so turned on that your walls are clenching around Jimin’s dick so hard that he grips your jaw harshly. Gritting his teeth, he spits, "loosen up, babe. You’re so fuckin’ tight." You whine and try to relax but the stimulation Jimin’s providing has your eyes rolling back instead.

He snakes a hand down to your stomach and under your skirt, circling your throbbing clit. Your pussy flutters at the stimulation and you bite your lip harshly. He changes his angle slightly, causing your thighs to start shaking. His precum and your honeyed juices drip out your sopping cunt, the sound of wet slaps echoing around the room.

"Mmmmh," you moan out softly, back arching slightly. You can feel Jimin hitting your g-spot with impeccable accuracy each time. Doubled with the way his thumb is rubbing circles on your sensitive clit, you feel yourself reaching your orgasm. You try to suppress the giveaway signs of your impending release, knowing that Jimin, in order to "teach you a lesson" of sorts, is likely to take it away from you, so you attempt to just breathe out, "Jimin, fuck, it feels so good."

"Yeah, you like that, baby?" he thrusts into you deeper and harder and you bite your upper lip to stop your moans from slipping out. "Come on Y/N, let me hear those pretty little moans. Let everyone else know how well I'm fucking you, how good I make you feel," Jimin urges.

As soon as he utters those words, you give in, letting high pitched whimpers spill from your lips. Your pussy lets out filthy squelching noises at each of his thrusts, your wetness dripping down your ass and onto the desk. You feel your walls tightening around his cock and try to fight it off, but Jimin can already tell of your impending orgasm. He pulls out of you, leaving your warm and soaked cunt open to the air.

"Fuck," you exclaim in frustration, bringing your hands up to cover your face so Jimin doesn’t see your face, tears starting to spill down your face. It’s frustrating you so much that he won’t let you cum. That he enjoys seeing you whimpering and teary-eyed for him. Your thighs haven’t stopped shaking and Jimin parts them after you close them. He pulls down your arms and smiles evilly. 

"Well, what do we have here," he exclaims, "looks like the baby finally did start crying. Come on, Y/N, I thought you had it in you. But look at how you’re spread out on this desk for me, such a fucking mess. I bet you like it, huh? Dirtying up my desk with that cunt of yours."

"I need to cum, Mr. Park," you choke out, trying to gather your thoughts. "I need to cum now." your teacher’s eyes narrow and he grips your thighs harshly. "What did you say to me?" he asks, a tone laced with dangerous amusement. 

"You heard me. I-," you hesitate for a moment, but decide you’ve already put yourself through enough teasing today. You muster up your courage before saying, "I want you to make me cum now." 

There’s a moment’s silence before you add on shamelessly, "o- or if it’s too much to ask of you, I- I’ll just find someone else to help me do it. Maybe Jaebum? He promised a good time a- and said he would let me cum as many times as I want."

Jimin grabs you by the chin and pulls you up. "You’re such a fucking brat, Y/N." Shifting his hand so it’s gripping your throat, he mutters, "you don’t fucking learn, do you? I thought you were smart, hm? But has the need for sex made you lose your sense? Made you turn into a dumb little bitch, ready to bend over for anyone because you’re so horny? And here I was thinking you were better than that. That you had standards. Perhaps I was wrong, hm? Would you like to tell me?"

You try to look down, away from his piercing glare, but he turns your chin to look back at him. Humiliation courses through your veins as Jimin’s gaze wanders down your body scathingly. "Look at you," he coos sarcastically. "Y/N, baby, you’re such a fucking mess. Pathetic." Suddenly, he lifts you off the desk and bends you over it, cheek pressing the top and ass exposed over the edge to him. You whimper at the feeling of your shirt being stickied from your arousal left on the table from just a few minutes ago. You try moving away from it, but Jimin holds you in place. 

"Are you afraid that everyone else is going to see the mess on your shirt, Y/N? Is that why you’re trying to move?" he hovers over you from behind. "Or perhaps," he continues, hot breath tickling over the shell of your ear, "you want to continue being a brat. Make me punish you until you’re begging for me to make it stop."

He spanks you, the sound echoing across the room before you register the sting of his action. You clench involuntarily and let out the slightest of whimpers. "Fucking hell, are you this turned on? Making noises even if I don’t touch your filthy little pussy?" he asks, smacking your behind again. You bite down on your lip to avoid giving him the answer he already knows.

"Count for me. Be good and maybe I’ll finally let you cum." he commands, spanking your right ass cheek again. "O- one!" you groan. He spanks your left side, the stinging sensation causing you to leak more arousal. "Louder, Y/N. Let me hear you," he hisses, hand in your hair, and pulls you up slightly. "T- two," you stammer. another slap echoes across the room. "Three! God Mr. Park, please." At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re begging for; your mind is numb with lust.

"T- twenty! Agh, fuck, please," you squirm under Jimins grasp. The throbbing of your clit has increased tenfold, and you can practically feel the shaking of your thighs through the desk. 

Jimin slips his hand between your legs, feeling the soft flesh of your inner thighs slicked with your juices. "You’re fucking dripping, Y/N. Look at you. Did getting punished turn you on this much, doll?" He swipes up your slit, teasing your fluttering hole. You scrunch your eyes in displeasure and try to back up into him, only to be stopped by a harsh smack onto your already throbbing cunt. You yelp and flop back on the desk, cheek pressing the surface.

You feel him rubbing his dick against your folds and sigh in relief. Suddenly, Jimin slams into you from behind with no warning causing you to let out a harsh groan. "Ah, professor!" you exclaim, balling your fists in pleasure at finally being stimulated. His cock seems even bigger from this angle, and your entrance stings delectably at the way he splits you open.

"You feel how tight your pussy is, princess? How tight it is for me? Nobody else makes you feel this needy. Nobody," Jimin mutters in your ear after pulling you up. He pulls your head back by your hair, exposing your neck, which he plants wet kisses on. He reaches down in front of you, tracing an achingly slow path from your stomach to your slit with his fingers. You’re reaching your orgasm at an embarrassingly fast rate due to all of the edging you’re been through, so when Jimin finally brushes over your clit, it’s no surprise that your walls tighten even more instantaneously.

"Ji- ‘m gonna cum," you moan wantonly. "Yeah? Is my little slut finally going to cum?" He hisses out at the way you tighten around him. You nod desperately, gripping his arm rubbing figure eights over your sensitive bud. 

"Oh god, Jimin, I feel it coming. Please please please let me cum. I'm being good for you, Mr. Park, please let me cum," you sob out incoherently as Jimin continues railing you from behind. You feel the ridges of his cock brushing your walls and shudder at his ministrations.

"Let go, princess, I got you. Cum for me. Tell me how good I’m making you feel," Jimin snarls, snapping his hips into yours, eager to get you to finally melt in his arms. You feel your orgasm crashing over you and you clamp down on his dick, legs shaking in relief. Jimin's grip on your hair tightens as he feels you pulsing around him, getting impossibly tight. Nevertheless, he continues thrusting into you. 

You mewl, trying to shift away from Jimin's hold as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing figure eights into them, "J- too m- much," you whimper out, straining against his arms.

"Yeah?" his smooth voice asks, "but I thought you wanted to cum, princess? Didn't you? I need to cum, Mr. Park. I need to cum now." He mocks you. “Well, that's what I'm doing doll. I'm. Making. You. Cum," he emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust, jolting you forward.

You're being reduced to a mess, tears streaming down your face and slick dripping down your thighs. You can feel your gummy walls tightening more and more on their own accord, without even trying. Without even realizing it, you've changed from trying to move away from Jimin's fingers to grinding down on his dick.

Jimin, however, notices this. "God, you're such a slut, Y/N. Weren't you just asking me to stop?" He raises your left leg onto the desk, allowing him to have more access to your folds. He slaps your clit when you don’t give a response and you yelp, clenching down on his dick. He slaps you a couple more times, and your cunt drips even more, making your thighs sticky with your honeyed juices. You can feel yourself nearing your orgasm once again from his motions.  

Suddenly, Jimin pushes you back on his desk and begins hammering into you from behind. "You're going to cum again, aren't you? Filthy little girl, didn't you just cum? Are you really that needy for some dick?" You try to hold back a whimper from his words but it slips from your lips. "You're really a whore, aren't you, baby?" 

In response, Jimin spanks you, and you yelp. "Keep doing that," he hisses when you clench down on his dick. "You like being punished, don't you?" You nod meekly in response. He smacks your already reddened ass again and you hiss at the stinging sensation. Paired with the pleasure his cock is giving you, thrusting so deep into you, you can feel yourself practically getting high off the feeling.

Jimin feels you cumming before you realize it yourself. His hips nearly stutter at the way your walls have clenched around his dick. He opts to rut his hips into yours, no longer being able to thrust in and out due to how tight you are. He reaches under your body to rub tight circles on your throbbing clit and you start cumming again, clenching erratically around his dick. "You cumming, Y/N? Be a good girl and let go for me. Get this fat cock all wet," he commands. You ball up your fists and dig your nails into your palms, pleasure coursing through your veins. Riding the course of your high, you wish for nothing more but to be in the moment. 

When you come down from your orgasm, Jimin finally pulls his hard dick out of you. You feel his precum and your cum drip down your thighs. Whining, you rub them together to get rid of the feeling but it only serves to make you stickier. Jimin parts your thighs and runs a hand up them to cup your pussy, pausing to feel your cunt still clenching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He smacks your abused heat, jolting you forwards and causing you to grit your teeth in overstimulation. 

He flips you over, spreading your legs open. He leans over you, rubbing the tip of his dick over your swollen and throbbing clit, making you shiver. "Prof- professor, I can’t-" you begin but are interrupted my Jimin quickly shoving into you. Gasping, you clench down onto his dick, eyes rolling back into your head.

"You can, Y/N, and you fucking will," he grunts harshly, snapping his hips into yours. You grasp at his arm after feeling him in you deeper than before. The head of his cock nearly kisses your cervix and his impossibly hard dick stretches your tight cunt open even more, making you wince at the pleasurable pain.

"I- oh god, I really can’t. It feels-" you choke out through your tears. "It feels too- oh!" your head rolls back as Jimin hooks your legs over his shoulders, creating a new angle of penetration. He rubs your clit ever so slightly, the abused bundle of nerves pulsing under his touch. "It feels too what?" he hisses, rolling his hips upward so that his tip just barely grazes your g-spot. Too good, you want to say, but pleasure is clouding your mind and you can’t get the words out.

"That’s it, baby," he hums, "taking my fat cock so well even though you’re so- shit, you’re so fucking tight. Are you gonna cum again, hm? Cream all over my dick and make another mess?" you’re being reduced to a blathering mess, Jimin’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue. "Yeah? Can’t even hold it back a little? Even though I let you cum so many times, you still want more? Greedy little bitch," he spits at you.

When you clench down at his words, he starts pistoning his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoing around the room. His cock seems to be splitting you open even more, and you can feel every pulse of his dick on your walls. "Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum," he groans.

"I- I’m close too, Mr. Park. It- fuck, it feels really good," you breathe out as Jimin leans down over you. He slows his hips down, opting to roll his hips smoothly and brushing over your g-spot with painful accuracy. Hovering over you, his stare bores into yours, eyes flitting down to your lips, reddened and swollen from you biting them. You whimper and tilt your chin up towards him and he leans his head down to yours.

He lets his lips ghost over yours, warm breath brushing over your lips as his hips grind into yours. "P- please," you beg, and Jimin finally relents and melds his lips to yours, bringing the two of you into a searing kiss, groaning as you near each of your highs. You break the kiss to gasp out, "I’m c- cumming again Mr. Park."

"Yeah?" he breathes surprisedly, "your little pussy’s that sensitive that you’re gonna- fuck, you’re cumming already? So quickly?" he leans down as your orgasm washes over you, this one hitting you slowly and harshly. You arch your back into Jimin’s chest, hands gripping at the collar of his shirt. His thumb continues to gently rub over your clit, causing you to roll your eyes back into your head at the overstimulation. You start shaking underneath him, squirming to get away from the overload of senses, but he holds you in place as you ride your high for what seems to be like an eternity.

"That's a good girl," he soothes as you continue to writhe underneath him. "Look at you, stuffed so full of my cock it’s making you cry. Does that feel good, darling?" you nod, sobbing. When your orgasm starts to fade away, spots of white dotting your vision, he still doesn’t stop thrusting into you. 

You bite your lip, and seeing that he’s close, you whisper, "M- Mr. Park, I want you t- to cum too. I- in me." His hips stutter at your words. "Shit, yeah? You’d let me do that?" 

You nod, "want you to fill me up w- with your cum and s- stuff me so full of it that it’s gonna be in me for days. And I wanna fe- fuck, I wanna feel you in me even when I’m alone, professor." At your words, Jimin lets out a slightly animalistic growl and leans in. "You’d like that, huh?" he asks. "Me fucking you so well till you can’t think straight? Putting my cum in you so that when you walk out of here, it’s dripping down your pretty little thighs, making you look like the filthy little slut you really are? You think you deserve that?"

"Please, sir, I really want it," you beg, "please." With that, Jimin attaches his lips onto yours again, grinding his hips into yours even deeper as he finally orgasms. He doesn’t stutter his hips as he continues his ministrations, even though he can feel your walls desperately squeezing around him, milking his cock of its seed. You feel the thick ropes of his warm cum painting your inner walls every second. Each time he pulls out slightly, a bit of it leaks out of your cunt, dripping down your ass onto his desk. He continues fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the way you’re shivering under him.

For a moment, all is still, nothing but the sound of the two of your breathing filling the air as you stare into each other’s eyes. "Um-," you begin, and Jimin quickly looks away, brushing his thumb over his plump lips. So that just happened. I fucked my teacher. I fucked Park Jimin.

"Wait here," he mutters, making your heart drop in disappointment. You nod, offering him a weak smile. Seeing this, Jimin reassures you, "don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back," and cautiously steps out of the room after clothing himself.

You take this moment to recollect what exactly happened. Okay, so you just fucked your teacher. It still hasn’t sunk in yet, and probably won’t till you leave to clean yourself and look at the marks he’s made on your thighs and ass. You can’t help the giddiness you feel, like a kid who got the best candy bar in the world. After all, you got to hook up with your crush - in fact, the entire campus’s crush. The door creaks open and Jimin returns with some paper towels and wipes.

"H- hey," he smiles nervously. For the first time, he’s the one that’s stuttering. "Let me clean you up. It’s the least I could do after putting you through so much today." He spreads your legs gently, cheeks flushed, and begins wiping off the slick and cum between your thighs. 

"Jimin, you didn’t do anything bad, calm down. Well, I mean you fucked your student? But other than that you’re fine. I really liked it," you try to explain, stumbling over your words. He looks at you incredulously, but shakes his head, smiling. "I don't want to tell anyone about this," you continue, "and I highly doubt you will, so this can stay as our little secret." 

"Well looks like someone got fucked a little too happy. How come you never smile this much when I’m teaching, hm?" Jimin jokes after he finishes cleaning you up, kissing your knee gently. He hands you your thong that he’s kept for half the day and tells you to put it on. 

"You’re still going to the party, right? Jaebum’s?" he asks and you shrug. "You should go. Have a fun time there, drinking and all that stuff." He leans into you, whispering into your ear, "and if that rascal wants to get into your pants, he’s going to see your soaked panties covering up that precious little cunt of yours stuffed with all that cum of mine. Maybe then he’ll finally back off," he smirks.

You blush, "maybe, Mr. Park. You know, you’re pettier than I thought you’d be." Standing up, to face him, he pulls you in by the waist till your chests are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck and he leans in, whispering, "well, Y/N, I don’t think you knew too much about me in the first place." Closing the gap between the two of you, you give him a peck on the lips, which quickly turns into a more heated kiss, lips melding together and tongues colliding. When you break apart, a faint blush on the two of your cheeks, Jimin smiles fondly at you and you look away.

"Well," you hum contentedly, "if I don’t know much about you now, I’d at least like to get to know you better in the future." 

"One day," he breathes out. "One day."

Your grin, disentangling yourself from his arms. "One day soon, I hope. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you next class. Goodbye prof- Jimin. Have a great weekend."

He smiles softly, walking you to the door. "You too, Y/N. If you do end up going to that party, have fun. Stay safe."

[tteokdoroki]

May I request some hawks headcanons please? 🥺👉👈 I love when people talk about his lil bird like traits or tendencies! I could totally see him cooing and making noises while cuddling or when his girlfriend is sad! He’d totally make a nest on his big ass bed and find random things to give to his girlfriend! You can add some NSFW too if you want! I just love hawks with bird tendencies thank you <3

— bird tendencies w/ keigo takami

⇝ pairing(s): keigo takami x gn!reader

⇝ rating: mature, 18+.

⇝ genre: smut, fluff.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! this request has been split into sfw and nsfw so please read with caution. unprotected sex ( please wear protection ) oral sex ( male receiving ), male masturbation, mentions of rut, breeding kink, cumplay, dry humping and overstimulation.

⇝ author’s note(s): wew its been a while!! sorry that this took so long but im super excited to be back and posting requests, they’ll slowly be rolling out over the coming weeks so i hope you’re all excited!! i really liked writing this one and hope you don’t mind that i made it gender neutral! 

⇝ masterlist | requests

sfw !!

okay so we all know keigo is just one giant walking man bird

and one thing about make birds is that they can’t differentiate between reflections and real life, so every time keigo walks past a mirror in your apartment

he thinks it’s another male bird CHALLENGING him for the right to court you

sometimes you wake up to like a whole bunch of hooting like ??? what the fuck ???

so you get up and just see the big dummy squaring up to himself in the mirror HDJSJD HELP

“yn get behind me ! this mother fucker tried to break in !!”

“kei baby, that’s just your reflection.”

“oh.”

defo PUFFS up his wings when you’re talking to someone he doesn’t like.

he’s your big bad bird man and he’s going to protect you!!

because he’s a pro hero he doesn’t really get to see you during the week :( so while your out working he often leaves stuff on your front porch / balcony as a gift

birds love shiny things so it’s often a necklace, a diamond, a bracelet— anything shiny that catches his eye 🥺 you get it

you always call him after and tell him not to spend so much money on you but he claims it doesn’t hurt his pockets ( he must be earning big buck as the number two as well )

“keigo? did you even CHECK the price tag on this necklace??”

“kkrkrkrk can’t hear you babe Krkrkrk you’re breaking up !! *scrunches up paper* too much static will call you later bye!”

like you said, when he senses that you’re sad he’ll often build a nest for you to come home too

fills it with all your favourite snacks and pretty rocks that reminded him of you.

literally tucks you under his wing and sings you a little birdie song to help you sleep 🥺

will probably accidentally wake you up in the morning by cooing :(

but it’s okay cos he brought you breakfast !!

it totally wasn’t a dead rabbit that he caught you lol

nsfw !!

like any bird, keigo goes through a rut.

when you first started dating he tried to keep it away from you but you ended up going over to his to check on him anddd

there he was, legs spread out wide to jerk himself to orgasm.

and ofc you stayed to help.

gets really possessive of you when leading up to his rut— doesn’t let you leave his sight and hates when you come back from work smelling like other males.

when you’re not around or are away he sends you audio recordings of him fucking pillows, cocksleevs, fleshlights anything he can think of to get some release.

pls just get to this man as soon as you can

fucks you from behind on his bed, cumming on your ass and back until all he can smell is his sex on you.

“look at you baby bird, covered in my fucking cum...you look so fucking delicious.”

will literally hump your leg and end up creaming in his pants when he’s too far gone.

makes you suck him off to clean it up after.

even through his haze he’ll do his best to pleasure you, stimulating your sex or eating you out before hand.

primal urge to have you filled and stuffed with his cum, in your sex or your mouth he doesn’t care.

can go from hours of slow grinding and teasing you to making the both of you cum in a matter of minutes.

his wings always spread out w i d e when he blows his load.

he’s super super vocal too, will whine so brokenly and prettily and but also never stops with dirty talk NEVER

“gonna fuckin take that cock baby? yea? want me to fuck up those insides?” 

cums inside you or on your ass. no in between.

he doesn’t like to waste it okay :(

you have to swallow the whole load if it’s in your mouth, he wants you to fucking savour the taste !!

if you let some drip he’ll defo fuck your mouth again, cream in it and make you hold the cum in your mouth while makes you ride him to over sensitivity <3

leaves bruises and bites all over you and then ends up kissing each and every one of them after his rut.

WHEN EYE SAY YOU ARE MARKED FOR DAYSSS

always cleans you up with a warm bath and plenty of water for you both to drink :(

literally takes the best care of his baby bird, he loves you so much.

[choiceskatie]

Invasion of Privacy

Book: The Nanny Affair/Mother of the Year

Warnings: Extremely NSFW. Smut. Lemony as fook. The filthiest thing I’ve ever written so the embarrassment may induce my next leave of absence (I’m also very out of practice, pls be kind)

Word count: 9.6k. I don’t know lol. I really don’t know.

Summary: Reimagining of Sam’s birthday. Takes place during TNA book 1 chapter 3.

Author’s Note: this idea randomly came to me one morning (can’t stop a ho from being a ho) and as I went to write it, it dawned on me this would be the perfect birthday fic for Miss Nitah. So, I forced myself to wait 5 months to write it (and then had a writers block for months and wrote this in 3 days this week lol). @ao719 happy birthday, my sweet fren. I wrote out many words about how great you are and then decided publishing them publicly would just make both of us uncomfortable so resigned myself to a paragraph or two lmao.

Fun fact, you were my first ever follower on here. You followed me when I didn’t even know how to reblog, all I knew how to do was send you messages obsessing over your writing and send you anonymous asks about when the next chapter of FD would be out lmfao. I think you’re one of the only blogs I followed for like two months, bc all I did for weeks on end was work through the pandemic and come home and read every single fic you’d ever written. I even read New Beginnings before I’d read MotY (what a sad time of my life) just because I needed my fix of your stories 🤣

I love keysmashing with you, obsessing over pixelated characters, trying to interpret lines to decipher which of them has the biggest dicks lmao. I love you obsessing over Scottish tiktoks and me teaching you what the words mean. You’re seriously amazing, and I’m so thankful to know you.

Anyway, these are just some of the characters that you and I obsess over, and I hope you enjoy this, my dude! I hope it doesn’t disappoint after me telling you how excited I was about it for 6 months 😂 (and sorry this is late lol) happy birthday weekend! I adore you 🤍

Also thanks for being born and forcing me out of my writers block. My screen time for docs this week is a little concerning but that sounds like a problem for future me.

Thanks to @lsvdw-blog for prereading this for me every time I wrote five lines, love you baby g.

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

The sound of the elevator dinging stops Anna and the twins in their tracks, panicked eyes meeting one another in alarm as they realise Sam has picked the most inopportune time to finally leave the office at a normal hour.

“Is that your dad? He’s not supposed to be home yet!”

“You have to stall him!” Mason gestures to the doorway with the large oven mitts dwarfing his hands. “Or else the surprise is going to be completely ruined!”

“Go, go, go!”

Mickey gently pushes her out into the hallway before she has a chance to protest. She stumbles into the corridor as she comes face to face with Sam’s handsome face, quickly forming the private smile she’s grown to love as he quirks an eyebrow at her.

“Coming to greet me at the door now, Anna?” His friendly grin is quickly replaced with something darker, something hungrier, as she watches his gaze travel from her head to her toe, taking in the special gown she’s put on to celebrate his big day. “You look…”

He gnaws at his lower lip as he struggles to finish his sentiment, eyes meeting her own again as she feels her body heat rising rapidly under the intensity of his stare.

She shakes herself from the daze as she remembers the mission she’s been sent out here to accomplish.

“Sam! I wasn’t expecting you so soon…” She trails off as she hears the telltale chime of the elevator reaching the penthouse suite again, her dark eyebrows knitting together as she looks at him in confusion.

Before she can question who else is joining them for Sam’s birthday celebrations, her attention is pulled to the opening of the doors and the commanding figure that slowly emerges from them.

Her breath hitches as she takes in the vision of the tall man. She suddenly feels the need to avert her eyes to the floor, flustered by his piercing gaze that quickly centres on her.

Naturally, as she stares at the hardwood flooring, she notices his shoes first. Large, brown brogues adorn his feet and she can’t help but to theorise they undoubtedly cost more than her old apartment’s rent. She surmises that they were either bought this morning, or that’s what shoes actually look like with a few zeroes added on to the end of their price tag.

Long legs are donned in pristine navy slacks, clearly tailored to perfectly carve the muscular shape she can already see through the expensive fabric. They lead up to an equally pristine suit jacket, sitting snugly against a taut waist before widening to accompany the man’s exceedingly broad shoulders.

Her gaze once again drops as she tries to survey the man’s hands, groaning inwardly as she notices they’re tucked behind his back and denying her the opportunity to find out if he’s married. She quickly realises that it doesn’t make much of a difference for many a reason: she’s not said two words to this man and isn’t sure why his marital status is of any note or interest to her; Sam’s not married and yet she’s still found herself in the middle of a train wreck.

As she finally wills herself to snap back to the present and focus on the man’s face, her attention is pulled to a second body exiting the elevator shaft.

“Mickey! Mason!”

A small frame barrels out into the hallway, a flash of yellow blurred by a wild brown mane chasing by her.

“Get back here right now, little lady!”

The figure stops abruptly as her sneakers squeak loudly on the floor. She turns back with an impish smile as she retreats to the man’s side.

When he speaks, his deep voice sends a shiver down Anna’s spine. “Uncle Sam has a guest, darling. Introduce yourself before you run off to wreak havoc on the penthouse.”

Anna’s gaze snaps towards Sam, confusion etched on her features. “Uncle? I didn’t know you had a niece, Sam.”

“Oh, he’s not my uncle!” The young girl interrupts, grinning up at Anna as she steps towards her. “We pretend that Mickey and Mason are my cousins, but they’re not really. I think my dad just likes to call them that because he’s an only child and he doesn’t want to feel he’s deprived me of a major part of childhood.”

Anna stifles a laugh as she looks up at the girl’s father, his exaggerated eye roll completely ruined by the warm smile on his face. “Is that so? That’s awfully insightful for a girl your age.”

“Thanks, Miss…”, she breaks off as her nose scrunches up in thought, trying to remember if she’s been told the woman’s name before her dad gives her a lecture for not remembering it.

“Schuyler,” she smiles down at her.

“Thanks, Miss Schuyler! My dad always tells me I’m street smart, which is good because I ain’t so good with the books.”

Her eyes flicker up to the girl’s father once more to see his mouth drop open in shock.

“I have never once said that, Luz!”

She waves him off without turning her back as she grins at Anna. “He didn’t need to. I figured it out myself because I’m-”, she stops to tap her temple, beaming with pride, “street smart.”

That gets a hearty chuckle from all of the adults around her, her father’s eyes crinkling in delight at the witty daughter he’s raising.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Luz.” Anna extends her hand to shake, promptly being shaken by Luz. “I’m Anna, the boy’s nanny.”

“Oh! Where are they?”

At the reminder of the boys, Anna nearly curses in front of the young child. She’d completely forgotten about the meal being made in the next room for Sam’s birthday.

“They’re in the kitchen, sweetie. Why don’t you go in yourself and see what they’re up to?”

She flashes her a wide grin before she turns with a start, calling out to the boys as she runs down the length of the corridor. “Mickey! Mason! I brought my brick!”

Sam throws his head back with a loud laugh at the look on his guest’s face, pure fear as he drops his head in his hands.

“If I make it to her 18th birthday, it’ll be a miracle.” Anna giggles as the stranger drops his hands, chuckling as he walks towards her. He offers her his hand, smiling as Sam introduces him.

“Anna, this is Thomas Mendez. He and I met in college and I’ve been stuck with him ever since.”

She takes his hand in hers, suppressing the shudder longing to course through her as she feels the warmth of his skin and looks up at his friendly face. She meets his eyes and can’t help but to stare. Although they are icy in tone - grey blue looking straight into her soul - an unrivalled warmth radiates from them, a kindness she’s never been privy to before now.

“College, huh?”

He nods with a smile. “Stanford.” He leans in to whisper conspiratorially, but purposefully loud enough for Sam to hear. “I got in on my own accord though, nothing to do with Mommy and Daddy’s money.”

Anna’s eyes widen at the remark before she hears a guffaw coming from Sam, turning to see him shaking his head friendly at his old friend.

“Clearly Tommy isn’t planning on giving me a break just because it’s my birthday.”

“Wow, you guys must have known each other a long time.”

“Are you implying that we’re old, Anna?” He smiles slyly as he raises a challenging eyebrow at her.

“Thomas, I bought Sam’s birthday cake; that includes the many candles the boys insisted on for every year of his life. Trust me, I know how old you are.”

Thomas’ face is bright with amusement as he turns to smirk at Sam. “Oh, she’s trouble.”

“Tell me about it.”

Anna’s reply is forgotten as she hears the twins calling her from the dining room and instructs both men to follow her through.

The twins stand at the head of the table, grinning from ear to ear as they proudly present their home cooked meal for Sam.

“Tada! Happy birthday, Dad!”

He grins wide and pulls them both in for a bear hug, before pulling Anna into a close embrace, thanking her quietly as he knows she was the one to pull this off.

Luz stands a few feet in front of them, scowling at her father as she crosses her arms over her chest childishly.

“Dad, why didn’t you tell me this was a fancy dinner party?” She huffs. “Mason and Mickey are in suits and you let me come in my soccer uniform!”

“And would you have worn a pretty dress had I informed you of the dress code?”

“Well, no but-”

“That’s what I thought, munchkin.” He reaches out to ruffle her hair and she only manages to frown for a few seconds more before a giggle breaks through.

They all sit down at the table as Sam quickly strides to produce a vintage bottle of wine for their meal, offering Anna a drink first.

“Oh, no, I shouldn’t…” She shakes her head as she waves him off. “You deserve to enjoy yourself tonight so you go ahead and I’ll put the boys to bed.”

“Don’t worry about that. When I found out Thomas was coming into town, I asked Carter if he’d watch over the kids after we’re done with dinner and he offered to stay so you could have the night off. Bedtime is taken care of.”

Anna is taken aback that Sam has always included her in his plans for the evening, but quickly grins in delight as she holds her glass out to him. “Well, then. Fill me up.”

~~~~~~~~

Sam quickly finds out that tipsy Anna is just as much of a joy to be around as her sober self.

Thomas quickly finds out that any form of Anna is the most fun he’s had in years.

The three adults sit long after dinner is over whilst the children sleep soundly at the other end of the penthouse, Carter acting as their faithful guard.

They sit in Sam’s study, Anna between the two men on the large sofa as her feet curl under her legs, uncaring of her appearance as her mind grows slightly dazed with alcohol and relaxation. Both men gaze longingly at her, an arm from each resting behind her head on the plush fabric.

Four bottles of an expensive red Anna’s never heard of lay empty on the coffee table, a fifth half full and spread generously between their large glasses as they laugh loudly at another story about Luz’ fights at her school.

Thomas is the picture of a doting parent as he pretends to scold Luz’s attitude, but the twinkle in his eye is unmistakable as he talks about his daughter.

Anna sheds a tear as Thomas bravely confides in her that he too has been widowed, although choosing only to divulge a few details about the nature of his late wife’s death.

At some point through the night, he realises this is the freest his heart has felt since that fateful day. Luz may be the light of his life, and try as Sam might to cheer him up with countless weekends away and trips to see his family, he’s never felt as happy as he does right now talking to Anna.

He allows himself to be carried away with the notion before he recognises the heated glances coming from her boss. He knows his friend, and he knows the heartbreak he endured when he lost his wife. He swore off love forever, fully believing that lightning never strikes twice. Thomas had always taken him at his word; that was until tonight.

He knows the nature of the situation between Sam and Sofia; he’s known Sofia for nearly as long as he’s known Sam and the two couldn’t be further from a compatible match.

They may share similar career aspirations and bank balances, but that’s the full extent of their resemblance.

Where Sofia is brash and self-centred, Sam is kind and generous.

He’d never enter into an agreement like the one his best friend has found himself involved in, but he’ll always support him.

However, he begins to wonder what situation he’s found himself to be involved in with his children’s nanny as he watches them interact.

It’s obvious to anyone close to Sam that he’s not interested in Sofia, so he begins to wonder if he’s fulfilling certain needs elsewhere. He’s only a man after all, and perhaps until he’s married he still plans to play the field.

Thomas admires that about his friend, his ability to shut off his emotions, a trait he unfortunately hadn’t picked up in his life. But a thought occurs to him as he revels in the warmth of Anna’s smile directed at him: maybe it’s not too late.

If Sam can blow off some steam, why can’t he?

On a particularly witty comment falling from Anna’s lips, Thomas finds his free hand gravitating towards her, finding its place on the curve of her thigh.

Her breath hitches as she feels the heat of his body through the flimsy material her dress is made of. He notices instantly, and makes the quick decision to leave his hand there for a beat longer, testing the waters as he tries to gauge the energy he’s been feeling from Anna all night.

He sees her gaze flicker down to his lips before she bites down on her own and he suppresses a victorious grin.

He’s not sure if it’s the wine coursing through his veins or the desire thrumming in his body at the thrill of a woman’s touch again after so long, but his drunk mind tells him that it’s now or never.

He moves his hand up slowly, stifling a smirk as he watches Sam’s eyes follow the movement and his jaw tick ever so slightly.

“You know, Anna, there’s a lot of things that Sam and I used to do in college that we don’t get the chance to anymore.”

“Oh?”

“Mm.” he hums thoughtfully as his fingers start to trace tantalising circles against her. “We weren’t always boring fathers with corporate jobs, you know.”

“Oh, I know that.” She giggles as her gaze flickers over to Sam, her hand gripping onto his knee affectionately as she winks at him. “Sam’s told me some crazy stories from his youth, and I don’t doubt that he’s leaving some of the best ones out to save my opinion of him.”

He sees Sam attempt to move imperceptibly to fix himself without moving Anna’s hand from him, and Thomas smiles to himself wryly. Doesn’t take much.

He doesn’t miss the way Anna’s hand lingers on Sam, and he’s more sure than ever that this is no normal employer-employee relationship.

“Oh?” He smiles at her as he tightens his hold on her thigh ever so slightly. “And what is it you think he might be keeping from you?”

“Nothing I could say aloud, counsellor.” She winks and he feels desire unfurl deep in his core, and he can finally see why Sam keeps Anna around.

It’s no mystery to see why Anna was hired in the first place. She’s energetic, kind, bubbly, personable; her personality is downright enchanting. She’s brought Luz out of her shell more tonight that he’s seen anyone else achieve in the past few years. She clearly has a way with children and he’s grateful for her presence in the boy’s life.

No, seeing why she was hired in the first place is a no brainer. Since the moment he laid eyes on her, Thomas has been wondering why Sam is stupid enough to keep her around when she’s clearly so damn tempting.

Her looks alone are enough to drive a man wild. Sure, she’s dressed up especially for tonight but he can tell that no outfit could hide the large breasts and pert rear she’s sporting. He can’t quite repress the way his vivid imagination immediately conjures up the idea of her naked and writhing for him, and he feels his slacks become a little tighter.

Body aside, her face is a thing of beauty. Her big brown eyes; so angelic and alluring. The way they glitter with flecks of gold as the warm light catches her face. The soft slope of her nose that leads to her plump lips. Those lips.

He’s entirely confident that her mouth alone could bring a man to his knees.

Although he quickly surmises she seems like the type of woman who would rather be on her knees.

She’s absolutely sinful.

Yes, Thomas finally understands why Sam keeps her around. It’s that he has no choice: any man in her radar is utterly powerless before her.

One look at her and he knows he’d like to see if she’s willing to submit that power to him in another room.

“And has Sam told you any stories involving me?”

She shakes her head with a wry grin. “Considering I’d never heard of you until tonight, funnily enough no.”

Cheeky. I like it.

“Now, that’s a shame.” He sneaks a glance at Sam and he can see his friend’s curiosity peaked with an inquisitive quirk of his brow. “There’s a few stories I think you’d rather enjoy.”

He can see Sam’s eyes widen in momentary surprise before they narrow in recognition, a smirk gracing his lips as his head shakes visibly in amusement.

“I’m not sure if Anna would be interested in those stories, Tommy.”

“Why don’t we let Anna decide for herself, Samuel?”

“Why don’t we let Anna in on this little inside joke you two seem to have?” She chuckles as she interrupts, the men joining in as she looks between them.

Thomas inclines his head slightly towards Sam, letting him take the reins as he tries to broach the topic. Sam leans towards the table, placing his tumbler of scotch on the wooden surface before leaning back and edging closer towards Anna, his far arm never losing its place on her shoulders at the back of the couch.

The arm around her slips down behind her back, curling around her waist as he pulls her into his side tightly. His free hand raises to graze across her cheekbone before tangling in her hair as he angles further towards her, close enough to feel her sharp intake of breath against his lips.

He whispers against her as goosebumps erupt across her skin. “It involves,” he breaks off as he closes the little distance remaining between them and presses his lips against hers. She only manages to hold back for a second before her body betrays her and melts against him, the gasp in her throat opening her mouth and allowing his tongue to slip inside and dance with her own.

Her eyes open as she feels Thomas’ fingers circling against her bare thigh again, and she manages to pull back from Sam as her head begins to swim.

She doesn’t manage to tear her eyes away from him but she’s acutely aware that Thomas is closer to her than he was only moments ago.

“It involves the three of us doing a lot more than that together.”

She feels like her eyes are about to bulge out of her head as her head snaps round to look at Thomas, expecting to find him with the same bewildered expression she’s sure is on her own face.

Instead, all she finds is lust blown pupils dilating as they stare at her, enticing her as she feels a magnetic pull towards him.

“What do you say, angel?” He leans towards her to press a soft kiss to her cheek before gently grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, directing her gaze to his. “Would you like to have some fun with us?”

She attempts a deep breath as she feels her heart begin to race, beating furiously against her chest as she struggles to believe what she’s hearing.

But one look at Thomas’s face and the unmistakable feeling of Sam’s hand creeping upwards from her waist and she has her answer.

A single nod is all she can muster before Thomas’ lips are on hers. It’s different from Sam’s kiss; where his pressure was firm, Thomas’ lips are soft. And yet, they both make her ache with need for them.

Their tongues meet and she feels his hand travelling further up her thigh as she bunches fistfuls of his shirt between her dainty fingers.

She sighs in pleasure as she feels Sam’s lips latch onto her neck, smattering wet, hot kisses as they travel up to her jaw. As he sucks on her pulse point, she feels Thomas’ hand reach the apex of her thighs and she trembles in anticipation, only for his palm to skim over her before travelling to the opposite leg.

He pulls back with a smirk as he hears her groan in disappointment. “Something you need?”

She palms him through his slacks and it’s her turn to smirk as she watches his body shudder. “Yes, both of you inside of me.”

Sam and Thomas catch each other’s gazes as they look over Anna, eyebrows raised as they grin in delight.

“She’s a natural,” Sam’s breath tickles her as his teeth graze her earlobe, tugging as her eyes flutter closed.

“Ah,” she tuts as she moves to stand, grabbing the half drunk wine bottle and walking around the coffee table. “But that, you see, implies that I haven’t done this before.”

Sam stands after her, walking towards her and easily pulling her petite frame into his hard body. “You just get more and more intriguing everyday, you little minx. What else are you hiding?”

“A lady never tells,” her voice is a sultry whisper as her fingernails skin his arm, the bottle of wine dangling freely from her other. “Care to take this somewhere more private and find out for yourself?”

He bends down to kiss her fiercely before pulling back with a tug on her plump bottom lip. “Wait for us in my bedroom.”

She nods in excitement as she turns and walks to Sam’s bedroom, thankful that the master suite of the penthouse is on the opposite side to all other bedrooms.

Sam turns back to look at Thomas, the same sly smile gracing both of their faces.

“Are you sure about this? We’re not in our twenties anymore.”

Thomas stands up to walk over to him, laughing at the question when the two of them are standing with physical proof in their slacks of how sure they are. “And have you ever wanted to as much as right now?”

Sam shakes his head with a laugh as he sees his point. He offers him his hand, which Thomas promptly takes with a questioning expression.

“This is a one time thing. After all is said and done, she’s still my nanny.”

“Fine,” he concedes sincerely. “You can tell yourself that, but I’ve seen you making eyes at her all night. Frankly, I don’t know how this hasn’t happened already with you two living under the same roof.”

“Because of a certain blonde that has half a million dollars of mine wrapped around her ring finger?” Sam jests and earns a chuckle in response.

Thomas rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he begins to walk backwards to Sam’s bedroom. “We’ll see.”

Both men’s breath catch as they enter the room, as Anna has taken the honour of undressing upon herself.

Her dress and underwear lead a trail towards the bed where she awaits them, propped up by her elbows and legs spread as their eyes fixate on her glistening centre. The two of them swallow heavily, infatuated with the mess dripping down her legs.

Sam’s the first to move from the door frame as he manages to peel his eyes away, landing on her face as he nearly groans in excitement. “Decided to get started by yourself, did you?”

She nods innocently, but the way her hands reach up to cup her own breasts show there’s nothing innocent about her. “You were taking too long," she shrugs. “I thought you were leaving me to show myself a good time.”

“Yeah?” Sam reaches the edge of the bed as he stares down at her. “Why don’t you show us how you like it? Make yourself feel good for me.”

She takes one hand away from her chest, trailing it up and over her collarbone before sliding it into her wet mouth. She releases it with a soft pop before beginning its journey down her stomach, agonisingly slowly as the two men hold their breath in anticipation.

Thomas reaches down to palm himself absentmindedly as his eyes watch her every move. She finally hits between her thighs and her head drops back with a strangled moan as she strokes two fingers through her soaked pussy.

Sam’s breath grows ragged as his gaze is transfixed on the movement of her fingers, brushing through her wetness before finally flicking her clit. As her hips buck up and she gasps, he practically forgets Thomas is in the room.

He’s on his knees on the bed in seconds, mesmerised as he watches Anna circle herself, her body writhing in pleasure as her eyes flutter shut.

They open as she feels Sam’s large hands against her thighs, spreading her further as his usual light eyes are nearly swallowed whole by desire.

“I need to taste you,” he groans and he watches as her pussy clenches. “Can I, princess?”

“Yes, please.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

Right answer.

He leans down and licks a long swipe through her folds, his cock throbbing at the first taste of her. He pulls back lightly, enough to utter, “just as sweet as I imagined.”

Something comes over Thomas as he watches Anna’s elbows drop, unable to hold herself up as her hips gyrate against Sam’s dutiful tongue. She lets out a whimper as Sam’s fingers join the mix, gliding in with ease and curling as he brings towards her climax at an alarming rate.

“Does that feel good, angel?”

She forces her eyes open with difficulty to see Thomas approaching her, one knee resting on the bed as he kneels beside her.

She hums her agreement, but not before adding. “But I bet you could make me feel even better.”

Sam grins into her wetness. A healthy dose of competition had always kept the two men at their best in situations like these. He catches Thomas’ eye and nods imperceptibly.

Thomas kneels fully on the bed now, his lips brushing against Anna’s ear as he pushes her hair back to whisper. “You’re obviously not getting it good enough if you can still speak, sweetheart.”

He slides behind her on the bed, resting her back against his chest as his mouth presses hot open-mouthed kisses to her neck, biting down before soothing the spot with his tongue.

He rests her large breasts in his palms, kneading and massaging as he hears her moans rise in volume.

Sam feels her clench around his fingers as he watches Thomas’ thumbs flicking her hard nipples, rolling and tugging on them until they’re rosy.

He can feel she’s close by the rhythmic fluttering against his fingers and the roll of her hips against his face, so he picks up his momentum, and within seconds, she screams his name as she comes on his face.

He presses soft kisses against the inside of her thighs as his fingers slow before he finally withdraws them, a gasp leaving her throat at the sudden empty ache between her legs.

“Come here.”

She rises on shaky limbs and crawls towards Sam, his large body caging her as he kisses her passionately. She can taste herself on his lips and it makes her core throb with need once more.

She feels a set of hands grasping her hips, before Thomas tongue blazes a scorching trail down her spine and she shivers. He rises again and whispers, “my turn.”

Sam releases her and she begins to move backwards on the bed again, but is stopped by a firm hand on her lower back. “Ah, ah, just like that.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as Thomas lays on his back, and then meet her hairline in shock as he slots his face between her thighs. “There, that’s perfect. Now do me a favour and sit on my face, sweetheart.”

She mumbles something under her breath, her words completely incomprehensible other than a soft praise to God.

She lowers herself down slowly, her eyes meeting Thomas’ as her hands take refuge on Sam’s broad shoulders.

She feels his hot breath against her folds and already moans in ecstasy, her knees digging into the mattress as she hovers above him.

His hands grasp her waist as his tongue wets his lips. “I know you can do better than that, Anna. Come on, sit on it.”

She nervously giggles but sees no ounce of humour in his expression. “But won’t I… suffocate you?”

He winks as he whispers huskily, “what a way to go.”

He pushes her down and she lets herself fall, his lips immediately latching onto her tingling clit and her eyes roll back in her head.

“Fuck, Thomas, just like that.”

His tongue laps at her, cupping her tightly and flicking her bundle of nerves as she writhes on his face. Her vision goes unfocused as she surrenders herself to the waves of intense pleasure building deep within her core.

She opens her eyes to see Sam staring at her, utterly awestruck as he watches her ride another man’s face. She feels their familiar inexplicable pull as she pulls him down to her height, their tongues meeting once more as her nails dig into his shoulders.

Thomas pulls back enough to mumble against her lips, his nose bumping her clit as he speaks. “Aren’t you going to give the birthday boy a treat?”

Sam smirks against her lips as she snakes her hand between their bodies, cupping him through his pants as he lets out a deep grunt. He covers her hand with his own, lacing their fingers together as he presses further.

“Is this what you want?”

Her hands reach for his shirt buttons, deft fingers plucking them apart with surprising dexterity as she races to see what’s underneath. The shirt flies off quickly, his strong body unabashedly on full view for her.

She presses her lips against his chest, mouth trailing downwards as her hands reach for his belt, unbuckling it before she unzips his pants and slips her hand inside.

Her breath catches as she feels the weight of him in her hand, and impatiently she pulls his slacks down alongside his boxers in one hand and the other wraps around his length and strokes him.

His cock twitches as he watches her eyes widen in amazement, gasping at the sight of him.

“I didn’t… I had no idea this was the situation we were dealing with.”

Sam reaches out to cup her cheek, pulling her gaze back to his.

“Trust me, it’s the perfect size.”

He clenches his jaw and softly pumps his hips as she softly works her hand up and down the velvety skin. Sam’s eyes darken with an intensity she’s never seen before as her tongue darts out to circle his tip before licking him from base to tip. Her full lips close around the head and she moans as she revels in his taste.

She relaxes her throat as she moves to take all of him inch by inch, her eyes watering even as she keeps them trained directly on his.

He reaches out to thread his fingers through her hair, clutching a fistful of it but still allowing her to set the pace.

“You can take it all, can’t you, pretty girl?”

His abdomen tenses as she bobs her head up and down, Sam watching down in quiet astonishment as she works him into a frenzy.

He begins to thrust gently, his cock hitting the back of her throat and she moans around him, Thomas choosing that exact moment to graze his teeth across her clit.

She pulls back from Sam to whine loudly, her hand continuing to work him over as the cool air blows against his hot skin.

Her other hand falls blindly to Thomas’ hair, tugging gently as her hips gyrate against his face.

She leans back in to take Sam in her mouth again, moaning against him as Thomas’ tongue enters her, twisting and curling as she rides it.

She hollows her cheeks and increases the pressure against his cock, riveted by the guttural groan she gains from her touch.

Her name is a warning on his lips as he feels a familiar tingling at the base of his spine, yet she only goes deeper as she urges him to give her it all.

Her hands embrace his ass as she pushes him to the edge, gripping tightly as her own orgasm rips through her and the vibrations from her moan drive Sam to follow her.

Anna swallows all that he gives her as she comes down from her own high, Thomas softly lapping at her as she trembles against his face.

She feels Sam begin to pull back and she does the same, raising one knee up and pulling it over Thomas’ chest as she lies down beside him, blissfully exhausted.

Thomas runs a hand down his face as he lets out a deep breath. “You’re incredible.”

“Says the guy who just did that,” she wryly shoots back.

He chuckles as she grins at him and he rolls over, pressing a soft kiss to her swollen lips.

He looks over to see Sam sitting down on the soft sofa in the corner of his room, eyes closed as he returns from ecstasy.

“Tapping out, big boy?”

He shakes his head, shooting him a crooked smirk.

“You should be so lucky,” he jokes. “But by all means, go on ahead as this old dog takes a minute to recover.”

He glances at Anna before gesturing towards his fully clothed body. “Well, I am still awfully overdressed, wouldn’t you say?”

Her only reply is a seductive little smile as she hoists her leg over his hip and rolls herself on top of him, fingers already on a mission to work his shirt open.

She peels it off hungrily, revealing his taut chest inch by inch as her lips mark every new bare patch of skin.

His shirt is thrown on the floor, forming a pile of haphazardly thrown clothes that is soon joined by his trousers.

Her head drops to the crook of his neck, Thomas’ breathing growing laboured as her mouth works its way down the length of his chest and stomach, her tongue dipping into his belly button, before she takes the waistband of his boxers between her teeth.

“You have no idea how fucking sexy you are.”

Anna maintains eye contact with him as she pulls them down, his own eyes heavy with desire as his throbbing length springs free.

His underwear falls to the floor as she crawls back up to face him, Thomas hissing in pleasure as her wet centre makes contact with his cock, gliding over him easily as she rolls her hips.

He reaches up to gently grasp her by the nape of her neck, levelling their gazes as her nipples meet the skin of his chest.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely.”

“What do you want, Anna?”

She revels in the shudder that runs through his body as she leans down to whisper in his ear, her tongue teasing the lobe as she goes. “I want you to fuck me senseless.”

He sits them up suddenly, her arms looping around his neck. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

Before she can muster up a response, her back hits the mattress, the sheets cool against the heat radiating from her body.

He’s on his knees before her, hands squeezing and caressing her outer thighs as she places them on his shoulders, eyes hooded as she stares up at him.

“What are you going to do with me?”

He presses a kiss to her inner ankle before lowering her legs to the bed. With a hand on either hip, he flips her onto her stomach effortlessly. Crawling behind her, he licks a hot path up the back of her thigh, between her cheeks and up the length of her spine before wrapping her locks around his hand and tugging. Her back arches as he pulls slightly, his other hand stroking himself as he lines up with her, the head of his cock teasing and nudging at her entrance.

“I’m going to ruin you.”

Any thoughts and chances of a reply are annihilated as he pushes inside of her slowly, her walls pulsing around him as she struggles to adjust to his size, stretching and filling her deliciously.

“Christ, Anna. How are you so fucking-”

His words are caught in his throat as she showcases exactly what he’s thinking. She clenches around him, his free hand falling to her waist as he chokes on a loud moan.

When he’s fully inside, he spreads his legs apart, knees on either side of her as she tightens around him even further. He pulls out nearly completely, slowly but surely, before burying himself to the hilt with one hard plunge.

Anna cries out, hands grasping at the sheets as he finds her spot immediately. Thomas moves deeply yet slowly at first, allowing her to get used to him as he fights to delay his impending release.

Every thrust of his hips shakes her entire frame, the cries falling from her lips like music to his ears. As he starts to pick up his pace, every flex of his hips has her clit catching the sheets, only adding to her intense pleasure.

But she needs more.

He watches her as one hand leaves the white knuckled grip of the bed, falling beneath her as her hips raise and she finds relief in the friction of her fingers. His head drops back with a groan as he realises he can finally go full throttle. He leans down against her, their slick skin pressed closely together.

“You want more, sweetheart?” His breath tickles the back of her neck, hairs standing at full height and every nerve tingling as she nods her head desperately. “Ask me for more.”

He speeds up the movement of his hips, making it near impossible for Anna to appease his wishes. The room is filled with her whimpers and moans, the only other audible note the slap of his hips against her ass.

“Tell me what you want, Anna.”

Still no reply, his hand reaches beneath her, removing her own and taking its place. She cries out, her hand grasping the hair at the nape of his neck as she arches against him.

“Tell me,” he growls as sweat drips down his temple.

“I-”

The fingers rubbing circles against her quicken as another thrust fills her and she’s rendered speechless.

“You want to come, angel? Is that it?”

His thrusts slow as he awaits her answer, the stillness in his movements punishment for him as much as it’s meant for her.

“Please, Thomas. Please let me-”

He doesn’t allow her to finish, her begging so prettily is enough for him to resume his actions and fuck her like a mad man. His body moves relentlessly, pushing her down onto his hand as she grinds against him.

His teeth tug at her ear, his breath hot against her neck as he finally lets her go.

“Come for me, Anna.”

His words push her over the edge and her mouth drops open in a silent scream, her surroundings turning to nothing as all she can focus on is the overwhelming pleasure tensing her entire body.

It could be seconds or hours by the time she reenters full consciousness, but she can feel Thomas still inside her, rock hard and throbbing with need.

He cranes his neck, watching as Sam approaches the bed, his cock standing at full attention again.

Anna winces as she feels Thomas easing out of her, missing the weight of him atop her as he climbs off of her. She turns around, confused by his sudden withdrawal.

“But you didn’t-”

“Birthday boys honour,” he gestures to Sam with a slight smirk before his gaze settles on hers again, stroking himself as he kneels before her. “Now, why don’t you open wide for me sweetheart?”

He falls back onto his haunches as he settles in line with Anna’s luscious mouth, all too eager to take him in and do whatever he likes.

She wets her lips as she takes him in her hand, her throat dry from hanging open as Thomas fucked her into oblivion.

They both rise onto their knees as she braces herself on one hand. He groans loudly as her lips wrap around him and she moans against him, tasting herself as she takes him in deeper.

Her jaw falls slack around him as she feels Sam’s hands stroking the length of her body.

“Are you ready for me, princess?”

She nods but decides it’s not enough to accurately convey just how much she wants this. She releases Thomas momentarily, only long enough to answer Sam before her mouth is back working its magic.

“Give it to me, Sam. I want to feel all of you.”

Her eyes shut tightly as he guides himself into her, her drenched core making the task effortless even as she flutters around him. Her mind goes hazy with pleasure as she hears Sam moaning loudly behind her.

She moans against Thomas as she feels Sam begin to move, taking it easy as her oversensitized body trembles.

His hands take hold of her hips, using them as leverage as he begins to move quicker. His voice drips with need as he mumbles in awe.

“Look at you taking both of us so well. Do you like getting fucked by us, Anna?”

All she can do is whine as his thrusts become more urgent, his moans picking up volume as he plunges into her again and again.

She opens her eyes to look up at Thomas, his muscles taut as his hands pull her hair away from her face. She can sense he’s close by way the muscles of his abdomen ripple under her touch and she pulls back to whisper against him.

“Fuck my mouth, Thomas.”

He gives a timid thrust and feels himself hit the back of her throat. Looking down to search Anna’s face for any sign of distress, she grabs him from behind, urging him to move against her.

His icy eyes stare down at her in disbelief, a string of curses filling the room as he picks up speed. A guttural groan leaves his lips as he hurtles towards the edge, her mouth taking all of him over and over again.

Anna moans against him as Sam drives into her with purpose, his hands reaching out to cup her breasts and massage them in his large palms.

It’s only seconds before Thomas feels his release approaching, and he manages to choke out a warning before he comes hard, filling her mouth as the weight of his climax takes the breath out of his lungs.

He rises onto weak legs, treading to the master bathroom as he leaves Sam to reach his own peak.

Sam slows his pace and doesn’t allow Anna the time to question his motives, turning her onto her back without fully pulling out, before slamming into her again and again from the new angle.

He takes both of her hands in his, interlacing their fingers as he presses his forehead against hers.

“I need to see you.”

She moans at that, her orgasm closer than ever as she brings her hips up to meet him.

He releases one hand as the other takes hold of it, falling to the small of her back and lifting her hips fully off the bed.

He grunts as he chases his climax, brows furrowed as he holds back purely to bring Anna there first.

“Whose pussy is this?”

Her voice is laboured as she fights the urge to close her eyes, instead entering a stare with Sam as she whines in pleasure.

“It’s yours. It’s always yours,” she admits in a whimper that only further fuels his desire.

Their lips meet in a frenzy, teeth clashing and tongues dangling as they both move wildly against another, desperate to feel the other come with them.

Sam feels Anna clenching around him as her fingernails dig into his hand, her moans getting louder and louder until her back arches off the bed.

“That’s it, Anna. Let me feel you come all over my cock.”

Her body thrashes as she comes, Sam’s praise in her ear prolonging her moment of ecstasy. He soon follows after her, pulling her tightly into him with a hoarse groan.

She fights to catch her breath as she feels Sam move off of her, and the last thing she remembers is a lukewarm cloth cleaning her gently before she falls into a satisfied slumber.

~~~~~~~~

Anna is pulled from her rest suddenly, grimacing in pain as she stretches her arms above her ahead and then smiling to herself as she recalls the cause of her aching body.

She feels a warm weight resting atop her and looks down to see Sam’s arm resting comfortably across her waist. His head is facing her, face peaceful as his breath tickles her skin.

She shakes her head with a silent laugh, giddy with herself for finally bedding Sam after weeks of palpable tension. She sits up quietly, noticing Thomas’ absence and looking around the room for any trace of his belongings.

When she finds none, she surmises he probably went back to his guest room after they were done, and her brows knit together in thought as she wonders what time it is.

She eases out of the bed discreetly, attempting to not wake Sam as she retreats to her own room. The last thing she wants is the twins bursting into her empty room in the morning, or worse: bursting into their father’s room where he lies naked with the nanny.

She throws on Sam’s dress shirt and walks to her bedroom slowly, wincing slightly at the pain between her legs as she moves. She startles as she hears a noise coming from the kitchen, unaware of the time but sure enough it’s the middle of the night.

As she walks into the kitchen, she’s met with the sight of Thomas’ broad and unclothed back as he searches in the fridge. She stares at him for a moment, her light footsteps letting her walk in unnoticed. His hair is disheveled and pyjama pants hang low on his hips, so she allows herself another heated glimpse before announcing her presence.

“Work up an appetite?”

He turns at the sound of her voice, deeper as she still comes out of her dream-like state. She can see his face flush from this distance anyway, no doubt remembering their activities only a few hours prior as his gaze struggles to stay on her face.

She can’t resist the thought of how utterly adorable he looks, shy to even come face to face with her after he’d prompted her to sit on that face only a few hours ago.

“Got hungry when I woke up for the little boy’s room,” he chuckles. “You’ll get that too when you’re a pensioner like us.”

He earns a crooked eyebrow at that, Anna resisting the urge to remark you certainly don’t act like a pensioner.

She smiles before she speaks. “Just don’t be eating the boys waffles, I promised them that they could have them for breakfast with Luz in the morning.”

“Understood.” He forces a serious expression onto his face. “I’ve learned to never come in between Luz and her food if I want to keep both arms, a trait she picked up from her mother.”

She watches as he smiles sadly, almost privately to himself as his eyes grow distant. She stands there silently, unwilling to break Thomas out of his thoughts and allowing him however much time he needs.

“Sorry,” he shakes himself out of it. “I don’t mean to depress you.”

“Don’t be silly, Thomas.” She reaches out to place her hand on his arm, caressing as she encourages him. “It must be so difficult, and you don’t seem to speak much about her.”

“Not so much anymore,” he agrees. “Sometimes it’s easier not to. I need to learn to let go of my rage at what happened and I can’t do that if I constantly think about the past. It won’t bring her back; all it will do is make me a bad father and I can’t risk that. I’m all Luz has now and she needs me to be the best I can be as I play both roles. Her needs come before everything else.”

“I know what you mean. That’s exactly how Sam feels.” She swallows over the lump in her throat as she shakes her head. “It’s terrible that both of you had to go through this.”

His expression is almost pained as he agrees. “It is awfully tragic that two close friends have had to go through this at our age. The only takeaway is being able to support each other through similar struggles.”

“It must have brought you two closer.”

“It did.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re amazing, Thomas. I can tell how much Luz adores you.” Their eyes meet at that, his eyes sparkling as he takes in her words.

“Thank you, Anna. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

His hand covers hers placed on his arm and he intertwines their fingers, resting them on his bare chest.

“Plus, if you ever do need a break, I know a nanny that loves your kid and would be more than happy to take her off your hands for a weekend.”

“You’d really do that for us?”

“Of course I would… as long as a certain lawyer comes to see me when he picks her up.”

He chuckles heartily, shaking his head in fondness.

“You’re something else, Anna, you know that?”

Her eyes crinkle as she grins at him, “I try.”

He reaches out tenderly to brush a stray lock of hair behind her eyes, leaving his hand resting on her cheek.

“You don’t know how much I wish…”

He breaks off as he forces himself to stop what he’s saying.

“What is it, Thomas?”

You don’t know how much I wish I’d met you first.

The warmth of his hand on her skin radiates through her body like fire. Time seems to stop, both of them holding their breath, as their gazes lock.

She turns her head slowly, placing a hot kiss to his palm and he needs to stop himself from moaning aloud.

It’s still tonight.

Thomas’ breath catches for the briefest moment of hesitation before whatever doubts he had leave his eyes, and he surges forward to press his lips to hers.

His teeth scrape against her bottom lip, one hand buried in her hair, the other gripping her waist. Her lips part for his tongue.

She lets out a moan as Thomas slowly backs her against the countertop, urging her closer. His hands come under her thighs and he hoists her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, and her arms encircle his neck as she slides back on the smooth surface.

His breath is rough on her neck as he trails kisses up and across her jaw. “Is this alright?”

“This is perfect.”

She trails one hand down Thomas’ back, feeling the warmth of his skin, before encouraging him closer with her heels digging into his ass.

He leaves a whisper of a kiss in the hollow just below her earlobe and whispers in her ear.

“I could barely sleep for thinking about you tonight.” He pants as he rolls his hips against her, his length straining against his pants as he presses into her.

“What-”

She arches her head back as he kisses down her neck, heat blossoming on every patch of skin his lips meet, and she reaches up to tangle one hand in his hair.

“What about me?”

He pulls down the sleeves of the shirt, easily done as it hangs off of her, edging them over her shoulders as his mouth rains fire against every inch of her bare skin. He pulls it down further, his eyes growing heavy as he cups her full breasts and circles her nipples with his thumbs. Her head drops back with a gasp as his lips leave a hot trail of wet kisses over the rise of her breasts. Her hands fall to his thick hair as he latches onto her hardening pink buds, biting softly before soothing them with his tongue as she lets out a whimper.

“About those pretty noises you make for me.”

She gently tugs his face upward to bring their lips together again, hungry, searching.

He gasps from the fervour of her kisses, crushing her against him with shaking hands, his breaths quick and hot against her skin.

His hands push up the hem of the shirt, bunching it around her waist and he chokes on a groan as he realises she failed to put her panties back on.

He strokes two fingers up the inside of her thigh and through her centre, pleased to find her wet and ready for him again.

“And if you really taste as sweet as I remember.”

He withdraws his hand, lifting it to his lips as he maintains eye contact with her and sucks on his glistening digits.

“W-well?”

He smirks as he pulls her by her knees to the edge of the surface, her bare chest now tight against his. “Even better.”

She crushes her lips to his in a bruising kiss, her need for him frantic as she works her arms out of her shirt completely and throws them around his shoulders.

“I need you.”

He pushes his pants down urgently, sitting below his hips as his cock springs free. He bends down slightly, foreheads coming together as he sinks inside of her slowly.

She lets out a sigh as she lifts her hips to take him in, her fingernails digging crescents into his skin as she works through the tenderness from their escapades only hours before.

“Relax, sweetheart. You can take it, I know you can.”

He reaches up to cradle her head in one hand, the other on the small of her back as he holds her in place and begins to move.

The energy in the air feels different as he keeps his pace unhurried and languid, a more intimate connection brewing between them as his hips meet hers time and time again.

Soon enough, her desperation gets the best of her and she urges him to go faster, her body rattling as he pounds into her.

One particular deep thrust has her on the cusp of a scream, and Thomas reaches up to cover her mouth as he huffs out a laugh.

“As much as I enjoy you screaming my name, you need to be quiet for this one.”

His eyes roll back as she bites into his palm, eyes locked on him as she stifles the lusty moan bubbling in her throat.

Her breath comes in shaky gasps as she feels her orgasm near, and he moves more intently as he recognises it too. “Are you going to come for me, Anna? You’ve been such a good girl. You deserve it.”

His words push her over the edge and her body tenses as she comes, the rhythmic clenching of her pulling Thomas over with her. He clings to her tightly as he lets out a deep grunt, burying his face in her shoulder to stop himself from crying out.

His heart races as he pulls out of her slowly, his length softening as he keeps one arm around her, the other pulling his pants up.

He takes one look at her and can see the blissful exhaustion seeping through her bones, so he bends to extend an arm beneath her knees and takes her in his arms, deciding on the way whose room he’s going to carry her to.

~~~~~~~~

“Anna! Are you ready? The bridal boutique is holding this appointment for us!”

Sofia’s shrill voice brings Anna back to present day as her head snaps in the direction of her closed bedroom door.

“Just a minute!”

She scrambles onto her feet and rushes over to the vanity in her bedroom at the Italian villa, looking in the mirror and attempting to wipe the streaks from under her eyes even as new tears cling to her lashes.

Her hand aches and her eyebrows knit together before she looks down to see the item still in a vice-like grip between her fingers. She slowly releases it, placing it on the tabletop as she breathes like she’s run a marathon.

Two pink lines agonise her before she meets her reflection in the mirror, a broken woman on the cusp of devastation staring back at her unrecognisable face.

Fuck.

~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note II: I had a full other ending written out and changed this at the last minute lol. So… who do you think the daddy is? 💀

Tagging perma and TNA: @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @forallthatitsworth @ao719 @burnsoslow @mia143 @stateofgracious @mainstreetreader @emkay512 @jerzwriter @lsvdw-blog @chemist-ana @txemrn @thefrenchiemama @thenannyaffair-fanfics

[ve1vetyoongi]

wherever you will go | jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: actor!oc, director!jungkook, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 21k

Summary:  Not much happens when you grow up by the coast. Tourists come and go, the theatre where you work shows the same shows over and over and there’s always sand and salt in the air. Your dreams of making it big in the city are exactly that: dreams. When your hopes of becoming an actress are shattered into a million pieces, you find yourself getting drawn to a captivating up-and-coming movie director by the name of Jeon Jungkook. With his bright eyes and charming smile, he seems determined to glue your pieces back together -- even if it means leaving Ocean City behind for good.

Warnings: themes of loss/grief, mentions of death of a parent, dom!jungkook, dom/sub themes, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, oral sex (f recieving).

Rating: Mature.

A/N: Hello loves! HAPPY JK DAY!! This fic is a lil celebration of our golden boy Jungkook so I hope you enjoy!! This whole fic is sickeningly fluffy and reads like a pretentious YA novel but ya girl wrote this while she was stuck in quarantine a few weeks ago and I debated not posting this bc I lowkey love it lowkey hate it so pleasedonthateme if it’s bad LOL. Also -- just incase you haven’t read the warnings already there is a running theme that deals with the loss of a parent (a topic very close to my heart, hence why this piece was especially healing to write.) so reader discretion is advised if that is triggering to you in any way shape or form!!!! P.P.S Largely unedited so pls bare with any mistakes!

Prelude.

You're late for your work shift, you note, as you catch sight of your watch face glaring up at you menacingly from the arm clutching the handle bars of your bike. As if your mood couldn't get any more miserable -- the dreary morning drizzle that falls from the sky and drips icily down the back of your nape was bad enough.

Goddamn, you groan to yourself as you will your feet to pedal ever faster. Now my hair is gonna be frizzy.

It's a Saturday and the theatre where you work always opens earlier at the weekends. You promised you'd be on time today, but yet here you are, speeding down the worn in sandy sidewalks of your seaside town a whole block away when you should've been opening up half an hour ago.

It's a habit of yours, being late. And as hard as you try, you just can't change a habit. But it can't be helped you suppose. Continuity is all you've ever known. That's the thing about living in a tiny seaside town. Things never change.

The view from your bedroom window has been the same for as long as you can remember — Ocean City — Aka, block after block of rainbow coloured houses with flaky paint leading up to the harbour where boats bob nonchalantly and fishermen reel in their catches beneath the gull filled sky. Beyond it the beach; greyish rolling waves and upturned pebbles nestled atop of hard sand in the winter and clear water and brightly coloured beach towels and brave surfers in the summer.

Nobody ever leaves, and the tourists that arrive in summer never stay. Life becomes a predictable practice, just each day lived out to the next in an endless cycle of never ending continuity. It's suffocating and endless and sometimes you feel like you're just a pawn on a giant chess board, destined to move one agonising square forward at a time, never diagonally. It's hard to change directions when you've been taught to stick to what you know.

You didn't always live here, in this town of continuity. You lived in the big city for a while, where no day was the same as another. But after your mother died you and your older brother were shipped off to live with your dad, who wouldn't know the definition of adapting if it hit him square in the face. He's always been the same square shouldered, balding dude in his forties who never wanted kids and never quite got over losing your mother to the big buck actor she ran off with when you were two.

So that's how you ended up here. Late for work at your job in the country's most prized vacation spot. And your boring reality.

You roll past the beach huts on the shoreline that alternate between vibrant pink and muted blue, barely paying attention to the boardwalk with its little boat house that stretches out into the horizon like a crooked finger. When it gets dark, you can spot the pier carnival lights flashing in the distance from here as they dance across the reflection of the pale white moon and play among the waves.

Even now, the yellow lights of the ornate street lamps that line the water's front shine like tiger's eyes against the sky just like they always have when you turn down the familiar route that takes you past the winding lanes of trinket shops and the happy hour bars and the carnival that feels strangely empty at such an early hour, not a single rollercoaster ride in operation.

Before long you're skidding to a stop outside of the The Crestmont, the old theatre where you work. It's everything you'd expect from a vintage cinema; pink and blue neon lights and a gold trimmed ticket booth out front with a three-sided marquee that extends from the front of the building like a brightly lit airport runway. You hurry beneath it, grateful for the protection it provides from the rain that has started to come down in lashes now, before heading over to the rack around the back of the building where you can chain your bike.

The Crestmont used to be somewhat of a hotspot back in the day or so your told, but these days it only shows cartoons at a discounted price for the neighbourhood kids and the occasional local production of some worn out musical everyone has seen a hundred times before. It's lost all it's magic, everyone says. But you disagree; you probably spend more time here than anyone, and there's magic in every inch of this place.

From the red velvet curtains to the grand chandelier, The Crestmont is one of a kind. Sometimes you disappear into the theatre by yourself for a while unbeknownst to your manager. You can almost taste the laughter and the tears and the love that has been spilled and shared unapologetically amongst these seats. Pure magic.

Your mom left a piece of herself here, too. If you close your eyes you can hear her laughter spilling out into the theatre, or her lilting singing voice filling every nook and cranny like a haunting siren. She was the Crestmont's star. Ocean City's sweetheart.

There's a wall of fame in the lobby. It's covered in portraits crested with gold frames, all filled with pictures of the Crestmont's greatest performers. You've spent hours there — (turns out it's the perfect hiding spot from your manager) — fingers tracing the plaques beneath each one, all inscribed with names that townsfolk whisper with dreamy looks in their eyes. Some are black and white, some colour, but all of them depict pretty faces with beaming smiles that never seem to fade.

Not even your mom's. Her smile is pearly and bright, right above the plaque with her birthdate. And her death date.

And right there at the end, an empty frame. Your frame. You can feel it. You already know how you'll pose for your picture. Hair over one shoulder, hand on hip, smile so convincing that it'll be like every happiness in your heart is written right across your forehead proudly, and you won't have to dull it any longer.

You finish hooking a chain around the handlebars of your bike, catching sight of your reflection in the darkened windows. Staring back at you is a girl dressed in a maroon v-neck with a preppy dicky bow tied around her collar. You frown. The white shirt itches and the high waisted pants make your crotch look weird but the uniform is compulsory. The only thing uglier is the sour expression on your face, which you try to smooth out with your thumb, experimenting with plastering a sickly smile to your face instead. It might be convincing if your lips didn't strain and your eyes weren't so prone to rolling without your permission.

You need to learn to hide your emotions, your father said. You have your feelings written across your face. Customers don't like that.

It's true; customer's didn't usually like you, your unforgiving face or when you spilled cola down their blouse or spat in their popcorn. One more complaint and you were on the path to being fired once and for all, and although in some ways you would be glad to say goodbye to the stupid slushie machine that always gets stuck and the ungrateful customers and the goddamn uniform, you can't loose this job.

Not when it's your ticket to making it big. Then customers will point to your picture as they pass and clutch their chest with a snide superiority, Oh! Can you believe she served me a cola once? I always knew she was gonna make it! instead of Would it kill you to smile a little, honey?

So you swallow a sigh and make your smile as convincing as possible and march inside of the ornate theatre doors of The Crestmont, hoping that today may be the day where things finally change for once.

Where it begins

"I'm going to work!" You call as you you pull a baseball cap down over your hair to cover it's unbrushed wildness. "I won't be back for a while so don't wait up, okay Taehyung?"

You pause with your hand on the door, listening carefully for a response; the small house you live in pulsates with the bass of some indie rock album your brother and his friends are obsessed with at the moment, and your eyes roll when you peer up the staircase and find Taehyung's bedroom door firmly closed like always.

With a shake of your head you scribble out a message on a sticky note — GONE 2 WORK. — and leave it for him to read when he eventually emerges from his man cave in search of sustenance and finds you gone.

You brush away the funny ache that nestles in your stomach. This is nothing new. You're used to not being heard. Your dad is always gone for trips you suspect involve more play than work, and your older brother pretends he's not broken by hanging around with the neighbourhood cool kids and barraging himself in his room for days on end. Despite living under one roof it feels as though you're miles apart, an invisible barrier separating you indefinitely.

You weren't always like this; distant, always stepping on eggshells around each other. You were a family once. A happy one. But since the accident there's been an absence in this house, and nothing has been the same since.

Still, you know that beneath Taehyung's standoffish persona, he's still your big brother. He worries about you. So you tack the note to the fridge and make your way outside.

The lawn is already brown despite it only being late May, and summer is shaping up to be hot and sticky, though you live two blocks away from the beach so the coolness of the ocean still thankfully pervades against your perspiring skin, the gulls already calling you with their high pitched squaks from down at the shoreline.

You've barely made it to the end of the drive before there's the sound of knuckles rapping against glass. You look up and your heart jumps into your mouth. Staring back at you is a pair of dark eyes from behind the upstairs windowpane. Even from this distance you can see how they shine, deep and dark like a cup of black coffee, and you'd recognise the annoyingly cute smirk that matches them anywhere.

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Taehyung's best friend, and, unfortunately, your crush for as long as you knew what the word love meant.

"Hey, Y/N!" Your heart sinks when the window slides open and a messy head of brown hair sticks out through the gap and points at you with a pout. "You're leaving already? Without me?"

Oh; another thing about Jeon Jungkook. He's also your co-worker, which means you spend 16 hours a week in his company, much to the glee of your heart and the dismay of your conscience.

You weren't exactly surprised when you turned up to the Crestmont theatre for your first shift and were left in the capable hands of none other than Jungkook to teach you the ins and the outs of the popcorn machine and the ticket booth.

For as long as you've known him he's been somewhat of a film buff. He practically grew up holding a camera. You always used watch him and your brother making home movies in the backyard, fit with ketchup sachets for blood and endless costumes from your mom's closet. And the one time you stayed at his house when your dad went away for a while after the accident, you saw all the classic movie posters on his bedroom wall; Casablanca, Singing in the Rain, Jaws. So it made total sense for Jungkook to be at the Crestmont. In fact, you couldn't imagine him anywhere else.

That day you were mostly just surprised that he knew who you were at all. While you had spent years watching him from your bedroom window while he kicked a ball around with Taehyung or avoiding his eyes at the table when he stayed for dinner, he had never so much as glanced in your direction.

Deep down you think the reason he was so quick to take you under his wing is because he knew first hand how hard the accident hit your family. You suppose he feels he owes it to Taehyung to keep you in high spirits.

Although if you weren't you and he wasn't him, you'd swear Jungkook's attentions had become almost flirtatious as of late. He always goes the extra mile to spend time with you, and you even though you know it'll end up with you getting hurt you can't bring yourself to stop him.

You see, Jungkook has a gift for subtle charm. Like how he always sneaks you sodas out back on your lunch break, never forgetting the extra syrup — tooth rottingly sweet just how you like it — slipping one of his own dollars into the cash register to avoid a telling off from your manager. Or how he insists on helping you clean up after the theatre is empty, showing you the best secret places like down the back off seats to find misplaced trinkets and the creaky floorboard where your manager hides his cigarettes. How he insists on walking you home after the evening shift, even if he says he's going this way to see Taehyung anyway.

You've spent countless hours pondering over whether his sweet talking words mean as much to him as they do to you. And as much as you know it's unlikely for someone like Jeon Jungkook to ever have feelings for you, you can't help the way your heart speeds up every time he shoots you one of his signature bunny smiles that light up his whole face like he's happiness personified. And you can't bring yourself to hate him for it.

"I did call," you respond matter of factly, finally sucking in a breath of courage to turn around and squint up at him through the afternoon sun with a shrug. "But that trash you're listening too was too loud for you guys to hear me."

Jungkook's eyes widen as he fumbles around beneath the windowsill and pops up again holding up a shiny vinyl record sleeve. You recognise it instantly; it's from his favourite film — Submarine. He hardly ever shuts up about it.

"This is not trash. This is, like, the best movie soundtrack ever made!" He shakes his head as he takes the needle off of Taehyung's vintage record player, music ceasing with a scratch, and slips it into the sleeve with a grin. "Good thing I have it downloaded so we can listen to it on the way to work, hm?"

You roll your eyes and tap your foot impatiently, and at that, Taehyung appears behind him.

"You're leaving already?" He frowns, words directed at Jungkook even as he glances through narrowed eyes at you stood awkwardly on the front lawn.

"Yup. My shift starts in twenty." Jungkook shrugs, disappearing into the room for a second before he emerges again with a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Sorry dude. I can come back afterwards though, if you want?"

Taehyung purses his lips. Even from here you can see the stress lines embedded in his forehead that make him look older than his humble age of nineteen, somehow weak unlike how you always saw him as a kid. Big and strong; untouchable; your brother.

His blunt eyes never quite meet Jungkook's as he shakes his head softly. "'S good. I was gonna try and sleep, anyway, before the sun goes down. Didn't get much shut eye last night. Not with the..."

Nightmares. Taehyung trails off, but you know that's what he's alluding to. The nightmares that turn your big strong brother into a sniffling mess in the dead of night, kicking around mercilessly until you sneak into his bed and whisper to him until he slips into slumber again. Not that you ever acknowledge it in the morning over your bowls of cereal and vacant good morning's.

"Okay." Jungkook's face momentarily falls; a rare occurrence from the boy who seems to be perpetually cheerful. He pats Taehyung on the shoulder gently. "Take care of yourself, okay man?"

Taehyung just nods, letting out a yawn as he rolls into a stretch. "See ya tomorrow."

You're jolted from your thoughts when Jungkook throws his left leg out of the window, then the other, arms bulging in just the right way where they poke out of the sleeves of his plain white tee as he climbs down the drainpipe and lands with a thump on the soles of his high top sneakers.

"Hey kiddo." He grins as he wipes the palms of his hands on the thighs of his ripped jeans, before messing up your hair despite your groan of protest.

"Don't call me that. You're only a year older than me."

You're startled when you meet the pair of warm eyes that glint golden brown in the summer evening light, chest contracting as you look away and break into a fast walk towards the street.

"And you know you can just use the front door right?"

You hear him snort behind you, neglecting to use the front gate and instead launching over the fence so he lands directly in front of you on the sidewalk.

"How am I supposed to impress my best friends little sister if I can't show off my guns?" He flexes his arm, but you just brush past him with a roll of your eyes.

"You're an idiot."

You hear the clunk of his bike chain unhooking from the gate, before a set of wheels pedal up on the sidewalk beside you. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Uh, to work?" You offer bluntly, squinting at him through the sun. "You should be too, we start in fifteen minutes."

"I mean why are you walking? What happened to your bike?"

You roll your eyes. "Some tourist kids slashed the wheels at the beach."

"Shit. Really?" Jungkook tuts, but you don't miss the glint in his eye as he nods towards the pegs on the back of his bike that were made for carrying a passenger."Then I guess it's my lucky day. Hop on, we can ride together."

You come to a standstill, arms crossed tightly. "I'd rather walk."

"Oh come on!" He wiggles his eyebrows. "It'll take double the time if we go on foot, and I recall it being you who got a final late warning last week."

"If we go on foot?" You laugh breathily, determined to stand your ground. "Just go on ahead, I'm good here."

"Well, I'm not exactly going to leave you here alone on the side of the road now am I? So I'll be forced to walk with you. And I'm older than you remember? Look, I'm already out of breath! My legs aren't what they used to be, y'know."

"Fine!" With a pout you take the helmet resting in his front basket and hook it underneath your chin, biting your lip to stop a smile from gracing your lips at the excitement that lights up Jungkook's features. "But only because I want you to shut up."

"Your wish is my command." He says with a pat to your head. "Hold on tight, okay?"

And as you wrap your arms around his waist, you're sure his ears heat up a deep shade of red, even it could just be the evening light playing tricks on you.

The theatre at the Crestmont feels eerily quiet when its empty.

You know that because even though your shift was supposed to end at 5, you offered to stick around to help clean up after today's performance. Phantom of the Opera.

"Jesus," You groan as you pick up another sticky soda cup that someone had kindly spilled all over the ground for you to clean up, dropping the offender into a black trash bag. "Doesn't anyone around here know how to use a trash can?"

You fall into one of the theatre seats with a sigh and run your fingers over the scarlet velvet, worn yet plush, the texture soothing you instantly. You tilt your head back and let the silence engulf you. No orchestra, no musical numbers, no stage crew shouting directions. No whirring cotton candy machine. Just you and the stage.

From here you can see every detail on the high ceiling littered with renaissance-style paintings of mermaids and babies armed with heart shaped bow and arrows. Your mom was an actress. When you were a kid you used to spent hours staring at them while she rehearsed. You were convinced they came alive once the theatre closed up for the night, their cheeky smiles evidence of a secret only you knew.

A trail of rainbows is cast by the grand chandelier hung in the center, and it draws your attention all the way down the aisles and up to the stage.

The Crestmont is only small, fitting perhaps 200 people at most. It's hardly Broadway. But the fire in your chest ignites as you glance side to side before sidling up the creaking wooden steps that wind up to the Crestmont's center stage. Your favourite part of the whole theatre.

It's not the first time you've done this. You often like to come up here after everyone has gone home, even though you technically aren't supposed to. There's a certain magic about being alone up here as you collect the lone roses that were thrown on stage by tonight's audience. Breathing in the musty smell of butter popcorn that lingers on the velvet curtains, feel the warmth of the bright stage lights glazing your skin. Something about it feels like home.

The first time you ever saw the Crestmont stage was on tv, watching a grainy camera shakily capture your mom in the very same spot you find yourself right now.

Your mom used to have a cardboard box filled with her old audition tapes. Everything from Hamlet to A Streetcar Named Desire, she'd starred in it, and you spent hours together in front of the television set trying to memorise the way she spoke your favourite lines and listening to her lilting voice recite backstage anecdotes about her rendezvous with foreign directors who dined on her in Paris or underground parties with celebrities you had never even heard of as she stroked your hair.

It wasn't until you got a little older that you realised that, just like you, your mom was a dreamer. Sure, she'd visited a couple different states and starred in some makeup commercials once, and that was enough to make her a celebrity in a town as small as this.

But really? She was just a small town actress with dreams larger than herself and way larger than the Crestmont where she made her name. And suddenly the gaps in time where she would disappear for weeks — sometimes months — on end no longer made sense to you. If she wasn't drinking cocktails with the prince of Monaco or clubbing in London, then where was she?

"Down town with those no good roadies," Taehyung told you once. "They made all these empty promises. Told her she'd make it big if she just did what they said. But look how that turned out."

That was the day you realised your mom was a better actress than you ever knew.

She always thought that her dreams would come true. She believed it so hard that you believed it too, naively. But who knows? Maybe they would have if she didn't get into an accident on her way to New York for her big break.

It's easy to imagine how your mom felt up here. She always looked so alive and free in those VHS tapes as she danced effortlessly across the stage with an ethereal weightlessness, the theatre silent except for the melodic sweetness of her monologues that drew tears to the eyes of those who listened eagerly.

If you close your eyes you can hear the roar of the crowd, hands clapping furiously. The orchestra tuning their brass in the pit, bows melodic against strings. Flowers landing at your feet. The deep breath of satisfaction as you take your final bow and the curtain closes.

Just like that you're moving across the stage, reciting the lines you know so well...

"You're gonna be a star like me some day," A voice whispers against your ear, soft and gentle. A memory. Your mom. "Just like me."

And just like that, she's there. In the audience, clapping. For you. And you feel invincible.

The sound of applause breaks you out of your trance. Real applause. You find yourself stood center stage, broom in hand, staring out at row after row of empty seats that gape with the same emptiness that was here when you arrived.

Except one of the velvet lined seats is filled now. Right at the front.

"Encore!" Jungkook whistles, the harsh thwacks of his palms clapping together clanging inside your ears. "Do it again! That was amazing!"

Your chest seizes painfully, a sudden bout of panic turning your blood cold. You feel the colour leave your face. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching?

Jungkook is watching you attentively, eyes soft at the edges with wonder. It makes bile rise in your throat. You can't be up here. Not when there's a pair of eyes looking at you, judging.

"I..." You begin, but the words get caught in your throat.

"I can't do this."

The way Jungkook's eyes widen and he lurches forward to catch you is the last thing you see before your vision goes black.

The boardwalk is strangely quiet for a summer evening. It's happy hour so you suppose most vacationers are already in the bars in their I LOVE OCEAN CITY T-shirts drinking cocktails or whatever. Not that you're complaining.

The smell of hotdogs and vinegar from the vans that line the strip still fill the air, snatches of conversations from children begging their parents to let them go on the waltzer one last time barely audible above the tinkling bells of the carousel. The ride operators drink soda's as they fan themselves with rolled up newspapers, grateful for the gentle hubbub on such a sticky evening, and then there's you, caught up in the middle of it all.

The wooden boards of the pier are warm against he backs of your thighs. You're sat with your legs dangling through the peeling guard rail that lines the strip. It was painted pastel blue at some point but years of sea spray and grubby hands made it fade to a sickly green tinge that matches the ocean.

Speaking of, the ocean would usually be directly below your feet, murky and wild, but today the tide has receded right back to reveal a large strip of sand. The stands suspending the pier rest on top of it so that you could walk right under and around them if you wanted to. You and Taehyung used to do that all the time when you were kids. Searching for barnacles. Exploring the dark places.

"Here. Eat up. You totally passed out on me back there. You could probably do with some sugar."

The soft voice beside you is the only thing loud enough to permeate your daydreams. You don't have look up to know who it belongs to. Jungkook.

He peers down at you, sun beating down against his back. He's holding two vanilla ice cream cones, double scooped, and he thrusts one into your hands before mirroring your position at the edge of the boardwalk.

The walk down here from the Crestmont was more or less silent, and your stomach twists now you realise Jungkook wants to talk.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." You lie. The ice cream is cold and sweet and covers the bitterness. "I just think it's funny."

Jungkook's tongue sneaks out to lick up the melted cream dribbling down his cone. "What is?"

"How this place stays the same but I feel so different." You were born here, raised here. This place was your whole life once, with it's salty air and bustling casino's. But since the accident, something's been bubbling inside you, swelling and crashing like the ocean below that taunts you and you've never felt farther from home in your life as you do now, looking out over the town that just won't budge, just like the funny ache in your chest. "Forget I said it. I don't know why I'm even telling you this."

Jungkook fidgets beside you and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh."It's okay, y'know. To miss her."

Your mom. You know that's who he means. Just the mention of her stings.

"Mhm." You snort. "Tell that to my family. If we all carried on missing mom then we'd be in pretty hot shit by now."

"If it's Taehyung you're worried about, then don't be. He's stronger than he looks."

"Until he's not anymore. And we lose him again just like—" You pause. You hate how you can hear the pain in your voice so you smooth it out. "Just like before. And I can't let that happen. I won't."

Jungkook shifts. As Taehyung's oldest friend he was there for everything in the aftermath of the accident. He was there when you put on a brave face for the sake of your family. He was there when Taehyung couldn't be any more.

"That doesn't mean you have to be strong all the time. Think about it this way. The ocean isn't always this calm right?" He gazes wistfully out over the ocean that swells and crashes against the shore, fingers twirling the gold chain around his neck. "Last winter when we had that huge storm, the waves were so big they smashed right through the pier support beams."

You furrow your brows. "What about it?"

"The ocean was just too much for the pier to bare and it would've come crashing down forever if half the neighborhood didn't come down to the beach in the dead of night, despite the rain, and hold it together until the storm calmed and the emergency repair boats could get to shore."

It's true. You remember how unforgiving the rain was as it pelted down against your back and froze you through to the bone that night as each and every familiar face from your neighborhood came down to the seafront to lend a hand, your family included.

Jungkook was there too. He was the one who knocked on your door in the early hours to spread the word. He got given free churros for life by one of the pier stall owners as a reward.

"What I'm trying to say Y/N, is that Taehyung has you to lean on, right? So who do you have?" Jungkook says, staring at you head on now. His sincerity almost makes you blush.

You bite your lip. Deep down you know that your beams are just as broken as Taehyung's and it's only a matter of time before they come crashing down into the water, and this time there'll be nobody to hold the pieces together.

"I don't need anyone. I'm just fine on my own. I can handle my ocean."

Jungkook brushes your hand. You flinch, so he pulls it back into his lap. "Well if you ever need a life boat, then you know where I am okay?"

You don't believe him, but he's staring at you so expectantly that you just tell him what he wants to hear. You're good at that.

"Okay." You whisper. "Okay."

Children's laughter bubbles up from the beach. You watch their distant silhouettes dancing among the waves. It's Jungkook who breaks the silence before it settles between you and becomes uncomfortable.

"Anyway, what were you doing up there on the stage today?" He smiles, like he's trying to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were having the time of your life before—"

You feel your cheeks start to burn. How long had Jungkook been watching you at the Crestmont? Had he seen the whole thing?

"It was nothing. I was just being dumb."

"Nothing?" Jungkook cocks his head to the side and punches you playfully. "It didn't seem like nothing."

"It just...it makes me feel close to my mom when I'm on the stage." You admit. "I loved watching her when I was a kid. She was always larger than life in my eyes. She had this way of making you really believe she was someone else. It was like she wasn't just acting -- she was becoming. Sometimes...sometimes I think I liked her better when she was in character."

You shake your head with a small smile. "I like me better when I'm in character. I used to dream about going to New York one day and becoming an actress just like she wanted to. Small town girl making it big in the city and all that." You scoff. "But I'm nothing like her. It's just fun to pretend sometimes."

"You're good. At performing. Like, really good." Jungkook's eyes are wide. When he places a hand on your forearm you don't shake it off this time. "You take after her. Everyone says it."

It's true. There's one photo of your mom in the house. It's in Taehyung's room. When you were younger you thought it was your face staring back at you from behind the glass. Sometimes you'll be walking down the boardwalk or serving soda's at work and you'll hear the whispers. See their heads turn. Is it her?

"Pfft. Looks mean nothing." You scoff. "She was fearless. I can't even speak in front of one person without passing out, let alone a crowd."

Realisation crosses Jungkook's face. "Oh. So that's what happened back there? Stage fright?"

"Uh huh." You roll your eyes. "So don't give me the follow your dreams spiel or whatever."

"Hmm." Jungkook uses his arms as a makeshift pillow so he can lay back against the ground. You mirror him, peering through your fingers to watch how the golden rays of the sun swallow his frame. "Remember that play they made us do in middle school?"

"The Nativity?" You raise your eyebrow. It was the first theatre production you were in, before the accident and way before you had stage fright.

"Yeah." He grins. "I was the sheep. Taehyung made fun of me for months afterwards because of that stupid costume my grandma made."

"Yeah." You snort. "You did look sorta dumb."

Jungkook bumps your arm with a playful pout that makes you giggle. "And do you remember how I forgot my lines on stage and nearly pissed myself with stage fright? God, I still remember how mad my dad looked in the front row. We'd practiced that part for weeks. I don't know why it happened. I just froze—" A small smile forms on his lips. "But you didn't. Next thing I know there's a kid in a gold star of Bethlehem costume running on stage to recite my lines for me. You stole the show, remember that? Everyone loved you."

"That was then." You murmur, but you can't suppress the smile tugging at the corners or your mouth. "I'm not the same person."

"You were a year younger than the rest of my class but you auditioned anyway, because you knew that you were the only person who could play the star. Because you were a star."

Jungkook turns so that his head rests on his elbow and you're suddenly so close you can feel his breath ghost across your cheek. Your heart pumps in your ears as you gaze dips down to his rosy lips and back up to his sparkling eyes which bore into yours.

"You still are a star."

The words echo in your ears, soft and sincere. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips. You lose your breath. And then you jump away, placing a safe distance between your bodies before you can do something you regret.

"And what about you. Are you still a sheep?" You tease, turning your face so he can't see how it burns rosy red.

"Nah. Figured out pretty quickly after that that I was better off behind the camera." He chuckles.

"Oh right. You still have that thing?" You nod to the camera in his lap. It's one of those old ones that looks like the type that needs a film reel and a projector, but it's been modified so there's a little viewfinder at the side to check the footage instead. "Can I see?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

"Some of the stuff you've filmed?"

"Oh! Right!" It's his turn to flush now, scratching the back of his neck as he anxiously thrusts the camera into your hands and pays close attention to the hangnail at the edge of his thumb as you watch the footage.

Your eyes widen when a familiar scene rolls out on the tiny screen. You, on stage at the Crestmont. Jungkook filmed you.

"This is..."

"You." He rushes."Yeah, I know. Sorry if this is awkward—"

"No. Not at all. I just—" You watch in awe as the you inside the camera moves across the stage with an effortless grace. How the lights make your eyes shine and your skin brighter than you remember it being in the mirror this morning. "How did you do that?"

Jungkook's forehead creases. "Do what?"

"Make me look like...that."

"I didn't do anything." Jungkook shrugs. "That's just how I see you."

You could listen to him say that all day, but you stop yourself mid swoon.

"Don't say things you don't mean."

"I do mean it. And I'll show you." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"How?"

He grabs your hand and squeezes it. Tight. "I don't know how yet but I will."

You roll your eyes. "Good luck, Jeon."

"You know I like a challenge." Jungkook laughs, and the melodic sound goes right to your chest. "I'll make you see yourself how I see you. Just wait."

"Since when did you have four wheels?" You call to Jungkook with a quirk of your brow, resting your elbows on the window ledge of the beat up truck he pulls up in outside the Crestmont.

It's a sticky August afternoon and the rusty red vehicle purrs— or more like splutters — in the parking lot as Jungkook untangles your bike from the rack and lifts it into the cargo bed like it's weightless. Just yesterday he came by with his pump and a patch to fix that goddamn slashed tyre, and now he's stealing it?

"Hey! What are you doing with my bike?"

He is clad in nothing but a white vest and board shorts, and you can see perspiration glimmering at his temples as the salty breeze blowing from the beach ruffles the dark curls that flop over his forehead.

"This is my dad's truck," His eyes flash with pride as he hops into the open drivers side door and makes the engine growl. He nods to the empty seat beside him and pushes his dark round sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, fanning his face with his hands. "And you won't be needing your bike today. Now hurry up and get in, loser. I've been waiting ages for your shift to finish and the AC is broken."

You raise a brow. "We're going somewhere?"

"Yeah. Why else would I be waiting for you to get in my truck?"

"I mean, we're going somewhere in this?" You nod towards the truck's worn tires, the fumes that wisp from the exhaust pipe like a lit cigar. "Are you sure it's safe?"

Jungkook notices the way you bite your lip. You don't even have to tell him the worries that are running through your mind. It's as if he can read them like an open book.

"Are you still scared of riding in cars?" He questions, softly.

You nod. That's what an accident does to someone. Makes them scared of something they ordinarily wouldn't even question.

"A little." The breeze ruffles your hair and you hide behind it. "I'm getting better." You add, so he doesn't feel bad because you know he does. His face tells you as much.

"It's a short drive, if that helps." He rushes. "And I asked Taehyung and he said you'd be okay, but if you aren't then I can just walk you home—"

"No." You shake your head firmly. There's a funny fizzing in your stomach that's been there ever since that day on the boardwalk, and it's only growing stronger and stronger now you're inches away from Jungkook and his warm eyes and gentle smile. You don't want it to end just yet. It's enough to outweigh the wriggling fear that's always inside you just a little. "Where are we going?"

Jungkook's face lights up and your heart flips when you realise it's because of you.

"I told you I was gonna make you see what I see, didn't I?"

"Oh that was today?" You tease. "Must have missed it it in the calendar."

"Stop asking questions! Just get in. Please?"

"Fine." You walk around to the passenger door, sliding in beside him and throwing your bag into the back seat. "But I need to be home by midnight or Taehyung will worry."

"No problemo." Jungkook salutes as he switches on the engine and the truck roars to life. You clasp your hands tightly in your lap and breathe through your nose. You're okay. You're safe."Home by midnight. It's a promise."

You gaze out of the window to stop your thoughts from running wild. Jungkook turns left, away from town and the beach and everything familiar. You watch it get smaller and smaller in the mirrors, strangely relieved. Strangely excited.

"Now will you tell me where we're going?" You ask.

"Nope." Jungkook chuckles when you pout. "Just sit back. Relax. Take in the view. Listen to the music."

He leans across the dash, making a point to keep his eyes on the road as he fiddles with the stereo. A familiar string of guitar chords fill the truck. You recognise them, even if vaguely. Probably from Taehyung's vast collection of records.

"The Beatles right?" You ask, resting your chin on your knee as you dare to take a peek at him, blushing when you find him already staring at you.

"Pfft, yeah. Of course it's The Beatles! Only their greatest soundtrack, like, ever."

You shrug. "I've never listened to them before, so I wouldn't know."

"Oh come on? You haven't seen A Hard Day's Night?" His eyes widen when you shake your head. "Super Fly? Pulp Fiction? Purple Rain?"

You stifle a giggle at the look of pure shock he's sending you. "Nope. Should I have?"

"Absolutely!" He splutters. Passion shines in his eyes. "You're missing out on some of the greatest cinematography known to man!"

"I guess you have a lot to fill me in on, then."

"I sure do." His eyes soften. "Open the glove box."

You open it. Inside you find an assortment of cassette tapes, old and new. You send him a curious look.

"Close your eyes and choose one." He nods. "Go on."

You do as he says and shut your lids tightly, feeling around until your fingers curl around a tape you're strangely drawn to. When you open your eyes you find a worn box in your palm, yellow at the edges, and you're momentarily disappointed until Jungkook hums in approval beside you.

"Good choice! Dirty Dancing. A classic." He takes it from you and slides the tape into the stereo. It crackles a little before the music starts. "Trust me, you'll love it."

The stereo tracklist flashes amber. 01: Do You Love Me?

"You broke my heart 'cause I couldn't dance," Jungkook sings along in a deep voice, eyebrows bouncing as you loll your head to the side to send him an eye roll. "And now I'm back to let you know I can really shake 'em down!"

The song starts, all vibrant guitar and drums. It has a funky 60's groove, like it belongs in a swing dancing club instead of on the highway at sunset. It's a happy song and you think it suits Jungkook just right.

Speaking of Jungkook, he starts to bob his head in time with the beat, fingertips tapping in rhythm against the steering wheel. He looks adorably dorky, losing himself to the song, like he's forgotten you're even sat beside him.

"You look like an idiot." You deadpan, though you can't cover the laugh that escapes you as he sings along louder.

"No, I look like I'm having fun!" Jungkook rolls down the window and turns up the music so loud he has to shout for you to hear him. "Don't you ever do this? Just give in to the music for a while? Let your body do what it wants?"

"Uh, no. I prefer to just listen." You shout back. "Besides, your body should be focused on driving this car right now--"

"Oh come on! Just try it."

"Try it?" You blink, stomach suddenly knotting."Like now? In front of you?"

"Well duh. Look. Copy me."

He starts to shake his shoulders from side to side, fingers clicking as he nods for you to do the same.

"I...okay." You start to copy, but you catch yourself in the rear view mirror and you just look stiff compared to how effortlessly Jungkook moves to the rhythm.

"See you're doing it!" Jungkook grins, throwing his head back. "Feels good huh?"

"Kinda..." You have to admit there is something liberating about just letting go. "Like this?"

Your knees volunteer themselves to the beat, and then your arms, and before you know it you've got your eyes closed, hair whipping around your face as you speed down the interstate

"That's it. Feel the music!"

Before you know it, the song ends and you realise all at once that you're laughing. Loud and free, enough to make your belly hurt. Jungkook is too, the sound better than any song you've ever heard, and neither of you can seem to stop.

"Oh my god." You pant, covering your face with your fingers, embarrassed. "Now we both look like idiots."

"Don't hide from me." Jungkook bites his lip. You're suddenly aware of how close he is. His arms grab your wrists, pulling them away from your face, but he doesn't drop the one closest to him. Instead he links your fingers and uses your shared grip to change the gear as he turns down a winding road.

"I'm shy." You say, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

"Why? You're beautiful." Jungkook puts the car into park. You realise all at once that you've been driving for ages and you didn't even panic once. "Besides, we've arrived. And you're not gonna wanna miss seeing this."

The destination Jungkook seems so excited about turns out to be a concrete parking lot.

"Where are we, Jungkook?" You ask, looking around but finding nothing but tyre tracks and dirt.

Jungkook has already hopped out of the drivers side, sliding over the hood of the car to tug open your door with a quirk of his brow.

He holds out his palm, upturned and calloused. "Do you trust me?"

You bite your lip, heart pounding. Do you trust him?

Your body speaks for you and you slide your hand into his. His thumb traces your knuckles reassuringly.

"Yes." You breathe. "I trust you."

"Good."

You yelp when an arm wraps around your waist and hoists you out of the car, tightly interlocked fingers blocking your vision like a makeshift blindfold. "Don't open your eyes until I tell you to."

"Okay." You giggle, feet stumbling as you try to find your balance with the help of a sturdy hand beneath your elbow.

Jungkook hums gently beneath his breath as he guides you up a path that turns from concrete to loose rock to dampened grass beneath the soles of your beat up sneakers. There's a voice in the back of your mind that tells you to be nervous; who knows where he could be taking you right now.

But as you breathe in the musty notes of his cologne and feel your heart flutter in your chest when he comes to a stop and rests his chin on your shoulder, just close enough to feel his laugh ghost across your neck, you don't care where in the world you are right now as long as it's beside him.

"Now, open."

The sun is startlingly bright when you open your eyes for the first time and see the vibrant meadow that stretches as far as you can see.

Wait — that's not the sun. It's sunflowers. Clusters of them, cheerfully waving with the breeze from where you stand on the path that continues for a few steps before it disappears among their stems.

The sunflowers are a burst of golden colour against the fading green of the meadow, and the horizon beyond that which boasts the silhouette of beach rock against the soft blue of the ocean at sunset. There's tracks here and there where the uncut grass is trampled, like some children had played hide and seek.

You reach out a hand and brush your fingertips over the velvety petals; breathe in the botanical scent of the fresh sunny blooms that dances through the meadow. It's breathtaking, you think. There's no coordination, just freedom choreographed by the wind as the tall stems sway back and forth in their gentle dance.

Before you know it you've taken off into a run, grinning with childlike glee when the tall grass tickles your nose and the sun whispers against your neck.

"Jungkook, this place is—"

"Beautiful right?" You nod breathlessly, blushing deeply when you come to a stop and find him staring right at you. He squeezes your hand and that's when you notice your fingers are still interlinked. "I come here a lot. When I need to think."

"How did you find this place?"

"Taehyung and I stumbled upon it a few summers ago by accident." He says. "Nobody knows about it. It's our secret."

"It's so beautiful." You whisper. "The whole world needs to see this."

Jungkook kicks at a stone with the toe of his boot. "I kinda like it being a secret. This place...is special to me."

"Then why...." The words get caught in your throat. You swallow and try again. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I wanted to show you the things I find most beautiful. Remember?"

"The sunflowers?"

"Well yeah..." He scratches the back of his neck. Swallows thickly, like he's preparing himself. "But I was thinking of something a little different..."

You close your eyes, a smile appearing on your lips as you let the crisp breeze caress your face. "Then what?"

There's a sharp click of a shutter, and when your lashes flutter open in surprise, Jungkook is shaking a Polaroid picture back and forth, his eyes glinting with something mischievous.

"Hey! Give me that—" You reach for the Polaroid, stomach churning with a sudden shyness that makes you hug your arms.

"Just — don't do that okay?" He holds it out of reach, pleading with his eyes. "Please."

"Do what?"

"Give up on what makes you happy just because you're scared." His palm cups your cheek. "You said it yourself. Being in front of the camera is where you belong. Don't you see that?"

"I'm not scared." You feel the heat rise in your cheeks when Jungkook sends you a knowing look. "Okay maybe I am scared. And so what if I am? You've already given me the face your fears spiel and I told you. I'm perfectly happy avoiding every camera known to man for the rest of my life if it means I never have to face them."

"But you've already faced one of your fears today. You got in my car, remember?" He raises an eyebrow, smug. "Well, two technically, 'cause you're here with me now and I know how nervous you used to get around me--"

"Did not!"

"Do too! Every time we talk outside of work you get all shy and--"

"Shut up."

"See! You're doing it right now!"

You don't know what compels you to do it. Maybe it's the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks or the way your heart quickens when Jungkook closes the gap between you, but before you can stop yourself you're reaching up and grasping his face with both hands.

"Oh just shut up and kiss me, doofus."

The smug smirk on Jungkook's face is replaced with wide eyed surprise, his lips falling still for a moment when yours crash against his. But then his steady hands find your waist and he supports you on your tip toes so he can pull you ever closer, melting into the plush press of your lips.

When you pull back, you're smiling. You can't help it. You've been dreaming of this moment since, like, middle school. And goddamn, he even tastes how you imagined. Like black coffee and toothpaste.

"See." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Happiness suits you."

"Whatever, Jeon." You smirk. "Don't let it go to your head, but it's thanks to you."

Jungkook flashes you the biggest bunny grin you've ever seen, eyes sparkling at your words.

"Wait...stay like that." He reaches for his camcorder in his backpack and points the lens at you. The smile falls from your lips. You place a hand on his arm, grip tighter than you intended.

"Jungkook stop."

"What's wrong? Just keep smiling like that, the shot was perfect—"

"I don't know what to do." You shrug, the lens boring into you like a judgy aunt at Thanksgiving dinner. "The camera makes me nervous."

"Just pretend I'm not here."

You sniff. "I don't want you to not be here..."

"Listen," Jungkook cups your face, thumbs tracing your cheeks fondly. "The reason I brought you here? It's because this place reminds me of you. Beautiful."

"Jungkook--"

"Just like you said, the world needs to see this place. Just like they need to see you."

"I..." Your heart is on the verge of exploding, you would swear it. "Okay." The word rolls off your tongue before you can stop it because somehow you trust him. And deep down, there's still that fizz of excitement mixing in with all the nervousness. The Jungkook Effect. You don't want to lose it to the darkness like everything else.

"I'll try. Just-- don't laugh at me okay?"

"You have my word, sarge." He salutes with a thoughtful grin. "Hold on a sec. I know exactly what you need to get you going."

Jungkook jumps to his feet and you watch with your chin tucked between your knees as he jogs down the rocky path and opens all four of the truck doors, even the trunk, before his head disappears into the vehicle and the same pumping bass from earlier starts blasting into the quiet serene of the sunflower field.

"There," He grins as he returns, out of breath, and sits back down beside you cross legged, holding his camcorder to his eye. "Now do what you were doing before again, but over there. Just pretend you're on stage at the Crestmont, okay?"

You feel the music wash over you and the urge to move hits you like a wave. Jungkook nods encouragingly and there's something in his eyes that flips a switch inside you. And for the first time in a long time, all the passion and spirit and feeling inside you fizzes up to the top and you can't contain it any longer.

"That's it!" Jungkook calls, shutter clicking uncontrollably. "I knew you could do it!"

An oak tree provides sun-flecked shade, a cool sanctuary from the sun that sets on the horizon and splashes the sky's canvas magenta.

Jungkook laid out a checkered blanket from the trunk of his truck which you both lay upon, shoulders pressed together as close as humanly possible, surrounded by your devoured picnic consisting of his mom's fruit punch and bags of snacks he took from the concession stand at the Crestmont when nobody was looking.

"Holy shit, Y/N." He says through a mouthful of popcorn, jabbing his finger at his favourite shot of you in front of the sunflowers. "This is what I've been saying! You're a natural in front of the camera."

"No, you're amazing, Jungkook." You feel for his hand. It's funny how natural it feels already when his pinky links with yours. "Behind the camera."

"You think?" He chews his lip, eyes searching yours for approval.

"I know. You should do something with these. People need to see them."

"I'm thinking of becoming a filmographer, actually"

"Like at the pier?" You think of the tacky photo booth that overlooks the sea in town, fit with all the silly cardboard cut outs that tourists come and take a photo with for a dollar.

"No, I mean a real filmographer." He shrugs, and you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his cheeks. "Y'know. Movies and stuff."

You nod. It makes sense for Jungkook to spend his life with a camera glued to his right hand. You can't imagine Jungkook anywhere else, and you have to ignore the sinking feeling that comes with the realisation that he would eventually leave Ocean City -- and you -- behind for the big screen.

"Well you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

"My lucky star." Jungkook smiles.

"Always."

He must see the sadness brimming inside you, his body shuffling closer so your knees brush. It's reassuring somewhat.

"Actually...there's something I should tell you."

He shifts under your gaze. The nerves rush back. "What is it?"

"I guess I finished writing my first screenplay..."

"That's like a movie script, right?" You ask eagerly, and he nods. "That's great, Kook!"

"Yeah, it's great it's just --" He pauses, and clutches your hand tighter like he's scared what he says next will make you let go forever. "It's about you."

You pale. "M-me?"

"I mean, it's about you and...and Taehyung! And your mom." Jungkook rushes. "I was inspired by your story at the boardwalk and it just happened! I'm sorry, I know you probably hate me now and think I'm crazy but--"

"Burn it." You deadpan.

Jungkook blinks. "W..what?"

"I said burn it." You pull his hand into your lap and he lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't hate you, Kook. I just think you were right earlier when you said I need to face my fears. And the only way I can do that is by forgetting my past. The last thing I need is a whole freaking movie about it."

He joins in with your strained chuckles. "Sure you aren't mad?"

"Not mad." You assure with a smile.

"Then I'll burn it."

You avoid his gaze shyly. "I'm kinda honoured you wrote about me, though." You admit.

"I guess...I guess I could call you my muse." Jungkook blurts hurriedly. His nose is a deep shade of pink and it makes you want to tease him forever.

"Yeah." You nod to yourself with a smile. "I like that. Your muse."

And then his lips are on yours again, like he can't quite help himself, and you start to forget where yours begin and his end.

This time it's not delicate and sweet. It's slow and languid, hot and heavy. The sunflowers break your fall, Jungkook's lips never leaving yours as he climbs on top of you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other planted beside your head so that his chest hovers above yours. You're almost certain he can feel how hard your heart is pounding in your chest, but you don't care, too lost in the bliss of finally feeling Jungkook's plush lips against your own.

"Come to New York with me." He says breathlessly between kisses, and your heart stops.

"What?" You can hardly drag your lips away from his but you have to be sure you heard him right. New York?

"I mean, in the future. I'm gonna go to New York. Get a job at a film production company or something, I don't know--" He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Come with me."

"I...I can't."

"Why?" He frowns. "Is it me?"

"No! God no."

"Then why? You said it was your dream right?" You nod. "So what's stopping you?"

"I..I have to take care of Taehyung, and my job at the Crestmont and--"

"Okay. Lets pretend none of that exists. It's just you and me." His breath ghosts against your forehead. "Y/N, will you come to New York with me?"

"Yes." It comes out breathless, but you mean it. With every atom and nerve and fiber in your body. "Lets go to New York."

Where things change.

3 years later.

A postcard sits on the Welcome Home! Doormat you and Jungkook bought before you left for New York. You recognise the picture perfect image of Ocean City on the front, and Taehyung's messy scrawl on the back that tells you he's doing fine at his new management job at the Crestmont and he will be sending a housewarming gift imminently.

— Stay smiling, Y/N. Miss you already! Taehyung. :)

With a small smile you tack it onto the bare fridge. It brightens up the empty kitchen somewhat, a little piece of home and a reminder that you don't need to worry about leaving your brother behind to fend for himself so much any more. Since he pulled his life together and got a job at the theatre, it's like he came alive again. Found his purpose.

Speaking of purposes, you suppose that's how you found yourself here. In your very own apartment in a nice complex on the east side. The east side of New York City.

There's a pair of satin curtains hung over the balcony doors, probably left behind by the old tenant as it's the only form of furniture in the whole apartment. They rustle in the morning breeze and you tiptoe across the room barefoot to rip them open, letting your eyes flutter shut when the early morning sun filters through the glass and cascades over your face like a warm embrace.

You press a hand to the glass, studying your reflection; the messy lump of hair atop your head, the soft shadow of your lashes atop your cheeks. And beyond it, New York. Your new normal in all it's familiar glory from your dreams, yet still so deliciously foreign it makes your heart leap whenever a cab horn rings out in the distance or you breathe in the smell of fresh bagels from the shop down the street.

Home. You could finally call it that now. But New York is just a city and this apartment is just a house. The real reason you get to call this place home is because of who you came here with.

Jungkook.

You've been dating for two and a half years by now. He let you borrow one of his old much-too-big t-shirts to sleep in last night. There's a hole in the shoulder and the hem brushes your knees but it's warm and smells like his cologne and your heart expands when you close your eyes and remember this is just the beginning. You have so much to do, so many things to see here in New York. So many things to learn. And there's nobody you would want to explore life with more than Jungkook.

His camera equipment lays in a cardboard box by your feet, and something compels you to take out the old-school camcorder he loves. The leather strap tightens perfectly around your hand and the red RECORD button flashes as you open the doors wide and lift the lens to take in the view. Something tells you you're gonna want to remember this moment forever.

It's not long before a pair of arms wrap around your waist, chin tucked cheekily into your shoulder. "There you are." Jungkook husks, stilly groggy with sleep as his lips ghost across your cheek.

Turning around in his grasp, you find him still shirtless, sweatpants slung low around his hips. He's been working out recently, and you can't deny you don't love how firm his shoulders feel when you brace yourself on them to stand on your tip toes and leave a peck to his lips.

"Morning sleepyhead," you say, running your fingers through the strands of his silky bed hair. It's longer these days, whispering across the nape of his neck and falling across his round eyes sweetly. They flutter closed when you massage his scalp just how he likes it. "I was wondering when you'd finally get out of bed."

"Missed you." His lips turn up when he sees the camera pointed at his face. "Whaddya doing with that?"

"Making memories." You say simply, zooming in on him as he rubs his sleepy eyes. "So we never forget this."

A cheeky smirk appears on his lips as he wraps you in his arms, a surprised giggle leaving you when he spins you around and grabs the camera so he can point it at the both of you, his chin resting on your shoulder now as his bare arm snugly wraps around your waist.

"Hey stop! I just woke up, I look bad!"

"Hello us of the future," Jungkook chuckles, pulling your fingers away from your face when you bury your face in his chest to hide from the lens. "It's our first day in New York and Y/N is being all camera shy--okay, okay fine, lets show them the view instead!"

Jungkook finally flips the lens around so it focuses on the distant silhouettes of tall skyscrapers skimming the blue skyline, before he turns it back onto you guys once more with a mischievous look this time.

"But we have to go now because we have far more interesting business to attend to..." He lowers the camera as his lips start to trail up your collar bone and he smiles when your eyes flutter shut and you gasp at the feeling, but it's quickly replaced by a pout when you wriggle out of his embrace with a stern look.

"Not now. Later."

"Mmf? Why?" He whines, making grabby hands towards you. "You're so warm, jus' wanna cuddle for a bit."

"No time!" You call over your shoulder as you grab him by the hand and drag his heavy feet behind you. "We've got an apartment to decorate."

Before you know it you've enlisted Jungkook's help in laying tarps across the living room floor, two pots of bright white paint plonked in the center. It's not like you could afford a decorator after all. You are two broke twenty-something's trying to make it big in New York, and all that cliche stuff. So you would just have to do it yourselves.

Jungkook's over in the corner, miming along to the guitar solo from some rock song playing from the radio balanced on the windowsill, the paint roller his instrument as he dances around the room with giddy impulse. There's paint all over his butt where he accidentally leaned against one of the wet walls and he's got his hair tied back into a bun at the crown of his head and you watch him out of the corner of your eye while an affectionate smile creeps onto your face no matter how hard you try to curb it.

That's when you notice the camera in his other hand. He zooms in on the stepladder in the corner, the paint spillage in the hall, the heart with Y/N + JUNGKOOK FOREVER written inside it on the back wall. Documenting everything as usual.

He was always filming you, too. Whether you were making coffee in the morning or drying your hair. He'd even slow down beside you on the sidewalk to get the perfect shot.

You find it cute, even though you pretend to hate it. It makes your heart flutter every time you catch him rewinding the footage with a contented smile on his face, like he just captured the whole world with his lens.

It's no surprise when you finish putting the final coat on the wall and step back to admire your handy work that you find him wandering around the apartment with his hand curved around the lens of one of his bigger cameras like it's natural to him. You always joke that thing is like an extra limb, but he looks so calm as he looks through his lens at the room that is now drunk on the afternoon sun pouring through the window, the golden rays like honey on his skin, that it's easy to see that the camera really is a part of him. Passion lies in the soft lines of concentration on his face, in the plump lip tugged between teeth as he fiddles with the settings.

Jungkook sees beauty where others don't, where others can't. It might as well pump through his veins. And it's one of the reasons you love him so much.

You shake your head when you see how a small smile finds his lips when he leans a shoulder against the door frame and lets the camera land on the thing he swears is most beautiful.

"Hey." You warn, shooting a side wards glare at the camera lens you spot Jungkook not so discreetly pointing in your direction. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" He runs a hand through his hair, lips pulling back into a sly bunny smile when you bend down to reach a spot you missed at the bottom of the wall. "I'm not doing anything."

Your upper lip twitches. "Are you zooming in on my ass?"

"What? No!" Jungkook scrunches his nose with wide eyes, a habit you knew meant he was guilty, a pout forming on your lips as he snaps the viewfinder closed and shoves the offending piece of his equipment behind his back.

You narrow your eyes affectionately. "Perv."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He blows a strand of hair out of his face innocently but there's a playful glint in his eyes and you can hardly keep a serious face as you plant your hands on your hips in what you hope is a menacing manner.

"Then lemme see it." You challenge with a nod to the camera behind him.

He feigns indifference, cocking his head to the side like an overgrown puppy. "See what?"

"That's it!" You shake your head, charging towards and him making grabby motions towards the camera. Jungkook looks down at you fondly as he holds it above your head, out of reach, and it only makes you you pout harder. "Hey! Give it!

"Never!" You jump pitifully, fingers grasping around nothing. A melodic chuckle spills from Jungkook's lips when you cross your arms over your chest in defeat and blink up at him crossly. "You have to say the magic word first."

You scoff at the teasing look on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows and waves the camera just above your head, before an idea strikes you and within seconds you're wielding a paintbrush, Jungkook's eyes widening when you point the paint coated bristles at his face.

"Give it up." You hold out your palm with a smug look. "Or the walls are not the only thing getting a fresh coat."

"You wouldn't." He smirks, despite being backed into a corner now.

"Oh yeah?" Without further ado you swipe the brush down the bridge of his nose, swallowing a giggle at the white smudge it leaves behind and his shocked expression beneath it. "You underestimate me, Jeon."

Jungkook pushes his tongue into his cheek, eyes dancing up and down your body before they lock with yours daringly. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Or what?" You taunt playfully, a laugh escaping you, but you quickly bite down on your lip when you see the glint in Jungkook's eyes as he submerges both his hands into the nearby bucket of paint.

You don't run when he steps closer. Instead your breathing quickens, heart doing a funny somersault when he brushes your hair to the side and clamps both of his wet hands on the sides of your jaw to bring your face up to his.

He tastes like coffee and desire when your lips crash together in a delicious tangle of teeth and tongue, all the thoughts racing through your mind dripping away like honey until all that's left is the thump of your heart against your chest and Jungkook's warmth as he backs you up against the wall.

When he pulls away he rubs his paint covered nose against yours, cocking his head and smiling sweetly when he leans back and admires his handy work.

"You have paint on your face." He looks down at his white hands innocently with a shrug. "Whoops?"

His hands trail down to your hips. You reach to your side and grab a fistful of paint, wiping it down the centre of his face and giggling when he groans and scrunches his eyes closed . "So do you."

"Okay, that's it. This means war!" Jungkook growls, strong arms wrapping around your waist, and before you know it you're stumbling over to the mattress in the corner, Jungkook's body hovering over yours.

"You wanna play dirty, huh?" Desire-filled eyes trace your face, travelling down the expanse of your neck before zeroing in on your collar bones. You gasp when Jungkook's lips attach themselves to the sensitive skin, every inch of you set alight when his burning fingers slide beneath the hem of your tshirt and find your thighs. "Always being such a bad girl, huh?"

"So? What're you gonna do about it? Punish me?" You say teasingly, and he stiffens, lips leaving a mark behind on your neck with a pop. Jungkook's narrowed eyes meet yours and you feel your heart speed up with anticipation.

His lips twitch, like they're dying to turn up. "Brat."

With that, you're being flipped over onto your knees with a yelp. Jungkook's hands work quickly and before you know it your tshirt is over your head and the sudden breeze from the open balcony doors against your hardened nipples makes you gasp.

"You love it." You laugh breathily.

"Too much," Jungkook confirms, before his large palm presses you down into the bed firmly between the shoulder blades so that your ass is thrust up in the air. You wiggle is teasingly, though the breath catches in your throat when the first spank lands on your bare skin. Then a second, the sound ringing out through the empty room like an echo and making a damp spot appear on your panties.

"Hey!" You chastise when you remember the paint on his hands that just left two glaring handprints right across your ass.

Jungkook just smirks. "What? Now everyone knows it's mine."

A third slap and you have to bite the blanket to stop from groaning, then a fourth, and a fifth and by then your eyes are watering but in the best way. Calloused hands smooth over the burning area, soothing it.

"Good girl," A raspy voice whispers next to your ear. "Such a good girl for me, taking your punishment. I think you deserve your reward now, hm?"

"Please." You moan as he reaches around to grasp your breast, tweaking your nipples in a way that has you writhing beneath him.

"Don't say I didn't warn you though," Jungkook chuckles as he rips your panties down your legs, gasping at the sight of your dripping slit like it's the first time. He runs a finger down your folds, biting back a groan when it makes your legs fall open a little further, desperate for his touch. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

"Jungkook, what do you-- oh!." Before you can finish, Jungkook is pushing your face back into the comforter, spreading your cheeks with his palms and licking an agonizingly slow stripe up your throbbing core. His tongue finds your clit easily, toying it with the tip playfully until you're gasping for air.

"Mmf, tastes so good." He murmurs against your folds, the vibrations of his chuckle making you moan so hard your legs start to shake. His tongue finds your hole, swirling around teasingly before it slips inside and you can't handle it anymore.

"Jungkook!" You gasp, reaching behind to grab his hair. "I..I can't-"

"You can." He says, almost a command, mouth leaving your pussy only so he can slide over onto his back and pull you back down onto his face by the hips.

"Oh g-god!" Your hand reaches for the headboard, landing on the wall to steady yourself when you remember you still haven't bought a bed frame yet. Your legs are starting to ache from holding yourself up but you don't care, too lost in the feeling of Jungkook's tongue lapping at your swollen folds as you grind in lazy circles on his face.

"C-close, Kook." You manage to splutter, head thrown back with pleasure when he slides two of his fingers inside you and starts to pump in time with his tongue, the sensation of being filled enough to send you over the edge into a shuddering climax that is unlike anything you've felt before, the only thought on your mind the way your hole clenches around your boyfriend's fingers.

It takes a few moments for your legs to stop shaking, your hearing slowly coming back into focus as you hear both of your heavy breaths intermingled. You look between your legs to find Jungkook staring up at you with a grin, eyes filled with wonder. His chin gleams with your juices, the front of his t-shirt damp as you realise with a gasp what just happened.

"Did I--?"

"Yup."

"Holy fuck." You swing your leg over his shoulder so you're beside him, Jungkook sitting up to look at you, still mesmerised. "I...I'm sorry, that was--"

"The hottest thing you've ever done." Jungkook finishes, grinning at you like he just won the lottery.

You raise a brow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Can I fuck you now?"

You can't help but laugh at his eager puppy dog eyes, hands practically twitching at his sides to touch you. A quick glance at his crotch confirms the biggest tent in his pants you've ever seen, and you crook a finger towards him with a sultry smile and a nod.

"Let's see if you can make me do that again."

"O-Okay!" Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head eagerly, and then he's on top of you, burning skin meeting burning skin. Your palm runs down his chest, Jungkook's eyes falling shut when it reaches the hem of his sweatpants. You cant help but gasp when your fingers wrap around his length through his boxers, core already throbbing again to be filled. He shivers when your finger circles his tip, admiring the wet patch on his boxers.

"Eager?" You smirk.

"You squirted on my face, Y/N, of course I'm goddamn eager."

"Get these off then." You tug at his pants and he kicks them off without a second telling.

"Your wish is my command."

When he returns to hovering over you, both completely bare now, he pauses. His eyes meet yours, a gentle smile appearing on his lips as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and grips your jaw protectively.

"I love you, y'know."

You close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his but barely able to keep yourself from grinning with the elation swirling in your chest. "I love you too, doofus. Now hurry up or I'm gonna have to fuck myself."

"That sounds kinda awesome--"

"Kook!"

"Okay, okay, on it!"

Palms spread your legs, and you both gasp when Jungkook runs the blunt head of his leaking cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices before he lines it up with your entrance.

"Ready?" He checks, thumb tracing circles into your inner thigh.

"As I'll ever be."

And with that, he pushes inside, his head falling into the crook of your neck with a sigh of relief at finally feeling your walls clenching around his throbbing length. The stretch of his girth stings, but it makes you feel so deliciously full, so perfectly whole to be connected to Jungkook like this that all you can get out is another soft I love you that earns a blissful smile from your boyfriend as he starts to move.

Each stroke makes you lose your breath, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. It's when Jungkook takes your nipple into his mouth that you feel a second orgasm start to build, one hand gripping the sheets as the other drags scratch marks down his muscular back in blissful agony.

It's not long before Jungkook spills inside you with a deep growl, your own high hitting you as you feel him coat your walls. He collapses onto your chest, breaths deep and exhausted, and wraps you in his arms before you can even catch your breath.

Jungkook pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and places a kiss to the top of your head. He's so warm you feel yourself start to drift off into a blissful sleep, the smile on your lips never faltering.

"I love you too." Is the last thing you hear him say before sleep takes you under, and you're safe wrapped up in each other's arms.

When you open your eyes, the room is warm with sunset's rose tinted blush, and Jungkook's body is no longer beside you. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you sit up on your elbow and find him on the ground in front of the freshly painted wall, intricate petals and stems flowing from the end of the paintbrush he delicately waves across the surface to paint the prettiest sunflower you've ever seen.

"I'm home!" You hear your boyfriend yell out as he shuffles into the apartment, quickly followed by a yelp. "Hey, Gureum, stop trying to lick my face!"

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your features when a ball of white fluff comes bounding into the living room, the puppy that excitedly jumps into your arms tracking a trail of muddy paw prints over the script in your hands.

"Hey Gureum," You coo, scratching him behind the ears where you know his sweet spot is. "You're such a good boy, huh?"

"Don't praise him! He totally ran away from me in Central Park and I had to chase him all the way home!" You can practically hear Jungkook's eye roll, shaking your head fondly at the mock annoyance in his voice. It was Jungkook who begged you to adopt a puppy for months in the first place, and they've been more or less inseparable ever since — the little guy hardly ever leaves his side. It's safe to say Jungkook is definitely Gureum's favourite.

The smell of coffee and fresh bagels wafts through the apartment, a warm sensation settling in your stomach as your boyfriend rounds the corner and waves a brown paper bag.

"Still got us enough coffee to stay up all night learning lines though." Jungkook grins, dumping the contents onto the coffee table and raising his eyebrows when your hands dart straight for the chocolate cookies. "Speaking of learning lines, how is it going, pretty?"

He nods towards the script in your hand. It's worn at the edges and ferociously dog eared from all the nights you have stayed up until sunrise reciting the words littered across the pages over and over, until it's like your lips are moving by muscle memory and the words are a part of you.

After what felt like hundreds of failed auditions, you had started to lose hope. With every letter that landed on the porch with another SORRY or MAYBE NEXT TIME, you felt all the confidence in the dream you worked so hard to uncover start to dwindle.

But Jungkook was always there, by your side no matter what. Encouraging you when you forgot your lines or holding you when you didn't get the callback. Reminding you to eat whenever you were too absorbed in your work to cook or cheering you on from the crowd at your weekly improv performances.

It was Jungkook who cried with you when the director of the small theatre downtown called and gave you the lead part in his upcoming stage production. Your big break. And you were determined to make sure everything ran smoothly at opening night tomorrow, which is how you find yourself snuggled up on the couch rewinding your VHS copy of Dirty Dancing over and over again until you have every word memorised by heart.

"Pretty good." You say as you pop a salted peanut into your mouth while Jungkook slips out of his tweed jacket. He's been trying to dress more New-York-ish these days, or so he says. More dress pants and less sweats. "Final rehearsals start at five."

"Aren't you nervous?" Jungkook squishes into the space beside you, Gureum cuddling up between your bodies.

Tomorrow night's show is sold out, along with every night after that for the next week. You heard there were going to be at least 700 people there each night.

"Terribly." You admit, stomach churning at the thought of 700 pairs of eyes staring right at you. You try to focus on the fizzing excitement that lingers there too, growing stronger and stronger. "But I think I'm more excited".

"I'm excited to see you up there doing what you love." Jungkook smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "My star."

"Well don't get too excited because I still keep messing up this one goddamn scene," You flip the script to a page covered in bright highlighter scribbles and run your fingers through your hair exasperatedly. "I'm totally gonna mess it up and then I'll never get another job and—"

"Shhh," Jungkook takes the script from your hands and runs his eyes over it quickly. "Don't talk like that. You're gonna be amazing — hold up..." He raises an eyebrow. "Is this...the kiss scene?"

You feel your cheeks redden, voice small. "Yes."

"Then you're in luck because who better to help you practice than the best kisser in all of New York?"

You snort. "Wow, I sure could use some of your expertise Good-Sir-Makes-Out-A-Lot."

"Then you're in the right place..." He runs his finger over the script, jabbing at one line in particular.

[Johnny and Baby kiss.]

"Let's start here, hm? For practice, obviously."

"For practice." Your eyes roll but your heart still beats a little faster as he closes the space between you, hand pressing into the wall so his sturdy body hovers over yours, hands instinctively pulling him closer by the collar.

"Come give me a kiss, m'lady..." Jungkook murmurs, but before he can tilt your chin up towards his lips there's a sudden series of frantic knocks at the front door.

"What the heck?"

You both jump out of your skin, Jungkook's eyes narrowing as he glances over his shoulder at the shadowy figure outside, fist pounding the glass fervently, like they're trying to break it down.

"Okay, damn, I'm coming!" He yells with a roll of his eyes. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders as he hops up from the couch with a sigh. "Probably just some dumb marketer again or something — dude, chill! I said I'm coming! — be right back."

The lock slides open and you hear Jungkook gasp. Your stomach drops. "Who is it?"

"Uh, Y/N..." You hear the door click shut and the sound of squeaky shoes shuffling inside. The anxiety in Jungkook's voice makes your heart skip. "You might wanna come see this."

"Huh?" Your legs feel shaky as you follow him out into the hall, chest seizing when you lay eyes on the dripping wet hair and chattering teeth of the shivering man stood before you, eyes dark and grave like they used to be.

"Taehyung?" You splutter, ripping the blanket from around your shoulders and swaddling him in it as quickly as you can, Jungkook already bounding into the other room to get dry clothes and towels after shooting you a terrified glance.

Taehyung grabs your shoulders and pulls you into a tight embrace. His cheeks are wet against your shoulder, but you can't tell if it's because he's been crying or because he's been out in the freezing cold rain — hold on, did he walk here?

"Y/N," He murmurs frantically, eyes darting back and forth but never quite focusing on anything. You knew this look. This is how he looked that day you found out about the accident. Murky, far far away. Devastatingly sad. Something wasn't right.

"What is it?" You ask, pulling him into the living room and sitting him on the couch before his shaking knees buckle beneath him. "What are you doing here, Tae?"

"It's...it's the Crestmont." He whispers.

"What about the Crestmont?" Jungkook appears behind Taehyung, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it's like your brother doesn't even feel it.

"They're tearing it down." He mumbles. "They're tearing down the Crestmont. Forever."

"Okay, now let's start from the beginning."

Jungkook's calm voice lilts from beside Taehyung who, after a warm shower and two cups of cocoa, has stopped shivering and seems to be ready to talk.

A hand reaches across the coffee table to tug on your wrist mid-lift to your mouth, a reminder from Jungkook to stop biting your nails. An old nervous habit you thought you'd left behind in Ocean City but apparently more than just Taehyung showed up here unannounced tonight.

"I...I got a call this morning." Taehyung begins, pausing to take a sip from the mug he cradles in his lap. His hands are shaking so he places it on the coffee table for safe keeping, right beside your discarded script. "It was from a construction company."

"And?" You prod, somewhat impatiently, making Taehyung jump.

"And apparently the owner of the theatre is behind on rent and...and..." He swallows hard. "And they're buying the rights to tear it down and build an apartment complex in its place."

"What?" Both you and Jungkook exclaim at the same time.

Jungkook's fists clench. "I always knew that old man was shady."

Taehyung fumbles in the pocket of the coat he arrived with, retrieving a brochure which he thrusts towards you.

The image on the front is of a metal skyscraper, far too shiny and new to belong in a seaside town like Ocean City. Fusion Apartments — modern living.

Jungkook rakes a hand through his hair, eyes sorrowful as you pass it over to him. "This sucks. Big time." He murmurs. "The Crestmont is the heart of Ocean City. How can they just bulldoze it like it means nothing?"

"That's why..." Taehyung swallows. "That's why I came here. I thought maybe you guys could help me, and we could do something before they—"

"We?" You furrow your brows. "You want us to help stop them from tearing down the Crestmont?"

"I mean yeah, I guess? I figured you guys would understand how important it is—"

You bite your lip. Taehyung flinches when you place a hand on his knee. "Tae. It seems like they've already got it figured out I mean...what can we do about it? The Crestmont has had a long run and maybe it's time for something new in Ocean City..."

"Y/N?" Jungkook warns, but there's a betrayal in his voice. How could you say that? It pains you, but you continue anyway. "What are you saying?"

"I just...I think it's time to let the Crestmont go."

Taehyung stands up so abruptly his mug smashes onto the marble tile.

"How could you?" He roars, but his bottom lip trembles. "The Crestmont is mom's place! It's all we have left of her in that fucking town and you want to just let them burn it to the ground?"

You tut, kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of china with a sharp glance at your brother. "For goodness sake, Taehyung. Mom isn't there anymore. She never was. She was always running off with some roadies and leaving us behind because she thought she was something special."

Taehyung scoffs. "What? Just like you?" He grabs the cocoa sodden script, crumpling it up in his shaking fist. "You are exactly the same as her. Running off to New York and leaving me behind to get your big break."

Jungkook steps forward warily. "Taehyung, you don't mean that—"

"Yes I do! If Y/N had just gotten in the car that day she wouldn't have died. It was all her fault. And now she's just gonna let them take what we have left of her."

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

Your stomach sinks. Is that really what Taehyung thinks? You wouldn't blame him. Deep down, his words strike a nerve. Because you know they're true.

Taehyung's eyes are hazy, unfocused. You reach for him dizzily, but he backs away into the hall.

"I shouldn't have come here." Taehyung whispers. He looks between you and Jungkook one last time before he's grabbing his coat and running down the steps to the first floor.

"Taehyung, wait!" You hear Jungkook's footsteps follow him out into the stairwell, but you're trapped on the ground, heaving for air.

Your hands shake as you pull yourself up to the window pane and watch Taehyung disappear into the gloom of the city, the sorrowful raindrops that lash against the glass mirroring the ones on your cheeks.

YOU: Taehyung??? YOU: [CALL IGNORED] YOU: please Tae YOU: can we at least talk about this? YOU: we're worried about you

It's been nearly 12 hours since you watched Taehyung disappear among the hustle and bustle of New York from your apartment window.

You and Jungkook were out all night searching for him. By the time you gave up the sun was rising and the birds were chirping and Jungkook somehow convinced your shivering form to return home to rest with a Taehyung shaped hole in your heart.

"It'll be okay. He'll be okay. He always is."

A phone call to your dad revealed he hadn't returned home that night; so where did he go exactly?

The weight of that question sits heavy in your chest as you sit backstage at the theatre, staring into your own vacant eyes in the dressing room mirror.

It's opening night. The show is due to start in fifteen minutes. Your lips are painted a deep shade of red, hair backcombed to perfection by one of the makeup artists. Beneath the harsh lights of the exposed bulbs that line the mirror, you look almost unrecognisable.

Confident, strong, successful.

Anyone would say your dreams had come true, or something sappy to that effect. But even as you sit among the hustle and bustle of the costume team and breathe in the fragrance of perfume and powder blush, you couldn't feel further away from the New York version of yourself if you tried.

Staring back at you is a reflection of the shy, terrified girl from Ocean City you worked so hard to forget. Yet here she is, mind whirring with worries for her brother instead of the lines she should be rehearsing to death before curtain call.

This should be your big moment. One which you will remember forever. But all you want to do right now is hold Taehyung close like you used to and tell him you're sorry and that you won't leave him again.

"Y/N!" You're snapped out of your thoughts by a familiar hand on your shoulder. You cover it with your own, instantly eased somewhat when you glance up and lock eyes with Jungkook in the mirror.

"Y/N, I found him."

"What?!" You jump to your feet, chair scraping obscenely. It draws the eyes of the people around you who quickly register Jungkook's polite smile as their cue to shuffle out of the dressing room and leave you two to talk. "Where is he? I need to talk to him—"

"He's not coming."

"What?"

Jungkook sinks into the chair beside you, forehead creased. He runs a hand through his hair and momentarily you catch a glimpse of the old Jungkook. The Jungkook that always took care of his best friend Taehyung.

"I...I gave him a ticket for the show tonight and told him to come. To see how much this really means to you...but—"

Your finger nails press half moons into your palms. "But what, Kook?"

"He was already leaving for Ocean City."

A sob wracks your frame. "Do you think he hates me?"

Jungkook's arms engulf you before the first tear can roll down your cheek, his chin tucking perfectly into the cleft of your shoulder. "Of course not, he's just...he's hurting right now."

"I can't lose him — not like this, Kook..."

"Shh. It'll all be okay."

You jump back and start to pace. "But it's not okay! What he said last night is true!"

Jungkook sucks in a breath. "What?"

Your knees buckle and you crumple. You can hardly breathe, shame washing over you as you admit the truth for the first time.

"I caused the accident! I'm the reason my mom's...she's..."

Jungkook wraps his arm around your shoulder, voice soothing. "What are you talking about?"

"The night of the accident she got a call from some big buck director. She was cast in this huge movie. Her big break." You're speaking to fast, but Jungkook nods to tell you he's listening.

"So she told Taehyung and I we were leaving for New York that night. And we were packing our bags before my dad got home and...and I said I wasn't coming. I didn't wanna leave Ocean City behind."

"I kicked and cried and said I didn't want to go, so her and Taehyung took off by themselves and that's when they got into the crash. She was upset and going too fast. It was all because of me." You start to sob. You've never admitted this to anyone before. Not even yourself. It tears your heart in two to say it out loud. "I'm the reason Taehyung's broken."

"You can't think like that." Jungkook clasps your face in his hands, thumb wiping away a stray tear. He looks scared, but his voice stays calm and convincing. "What happened was an accident. You were a kid. None of this is your fault."

"That's why Taehyung must hate me so much." You choke. "I'm doing what mom always wanted to, but she never had the chance because of me."

"Y/N?" A crew member steps into the room awkwardly with a cough. "I'm sorry to interrupt but the show is about to start. The audience is getting restless."

"Go. I'll take care of Taehyung, okay?" Jungkook pulls you to your feet, engulfing you in a final hug before he pushes you towards the stage entrance at the small of your back. "You're needed out there. Show them what you're made of."

Your eyes widen. This can't be happening. Not now.

"I...I can't."

"You can." Jungkook grabs your face and captures your lips, hard. It tastes salty with tears. "You're my star remember?"

"I love you." You whisper when you pull back, fingers reaching for him weakly as a costume designer hurries you towards the door.

"I love you too." Jungkook calls. His smile is the last thing you see before the door slams shut and there's no going back. "Now go break a leg, pretty!"

Particles of dust float in and out of your vision beneath the blinding stage lights.

Everything feels different from side stage. Your heart races as you press your ear to the velvet curtain separating you from the world, listening to the hubbub of laughing children and chattering adults filtering into the theatre. You imagine them taking their seats, buying icecream from the vendors, alive with anticipation.

The lights dim. You hear the director behind you, shouting something about places please! but it's like you're underwater, limbs weighted as you move like a ghost to your position for the opening number.

Your palms are clammy and you wipe them on your dress.

Show starting in 5...

Your legs turn to jelly. You close your eyes and try to calm your racing thoughts.

4...

Taehyung. Is he okay? Why didn't he come tonight?

3...

Shit! What was your opening line again? Goddamnit, Y/N, think!

2...

Mom. Would she be proud?

1...

You open your eyes.

The curtain is gone, and a pair of hands pushes you out into the harsh white spotlight. You shield your eyes with your fingers, heart dropping when you look up and find hundreds of eyes staring. Staring right at you.

It's like you're on the edge of a cliff, about to dive into the cool water below. Or fall.

Everything starts to blur. You're a teenager again, stood on the stage at the Crestmont. Panic rises like bile in your throat, and you don't know whether to scream or to run.

Run. Run. Run.

Your mouth opens, then closes. There's an awkward cough from the audience. Words run your mind in circles, but none of them are right, and before they can reach your lips they evaporate on your tongue.

Your panicked eyes roam the sea of seats that zoom in and out of focus. Your knees buckle, and you're sure you are going to pass out right here in front of everyone, but then your eyes meet a familiar pair of brown ones that makes the room stop spinning for a moment.

Jungkook. He's smiling at you, fingers crossed in his lap. There's not a trace of nerves in his gaze as he nods for you to go ahead.

I believe in you.

Just then the door to the theatre flies open and every head in the audience turns towards the darkly clothed figure shuffling through the aisles, mumbling sorry's and excuse me's until he reaches the empty seat beside your boyfriend.

He lets down his hood, shakes free a head of blonde hair that's still damp from the rain. He's out of breath, like he ran here.

Taehyung.

Your brother looks up at you, frozen in place, and his eyes soften. He flashes you a thumbs up and his lips curl around the four words you needed to hear.

You can do this.

And just like that, the panic disappears. The words come flooding back, and your body flies into action, moving across the stage

You forget all about the fear, and the anxiety, and Taehyung and the Crestmont. For now it's just you and the stage, together in harmony.

And you've never felt more alive than when you take your final bow and the crowd roars to life, just like you always imagined it would.

Your jaw hurts from smiling, and before you know it you're crying. Because when you squint against the theatre lights, you see Taehyung and Jungkook in the front row, holding each other and shouting your name.

Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!

"Hey! Be careful!"

The bouquet of congratulatory geraniums cradled in your arms gets crushed between your body and your brother's. He practically tackled you as soon as you entered the dressing room, carried on the cheering shoulders of the other cast and crew members.

"Holy shit." Taehyung holds you at arms length. His eyes are ringed red around the edges. "You were amazing, Y/N."

"You really think so?" Tears start to well and you're so happy to see him that you throw your arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you came, Tae."

"Yeah. You were just like her." He smiles. "Just like mom."

You share a small, sad smile. You've heard those words all your life but it feels different when it comes from Taehyung.

Jungkook pops his head into the room. He catches your eye over Taehyung's shoulder, and flashes you a small smile when he sees you cradling him in your arms.

Talk to him. He mouths, and you're suddenly reminded of why Taehyung came here in the first place.

"Hey listen—"

"Taehyung—"

You both start to talk, bursting into easy laughter when the other stops, seemingly hit with the same idea at the same time.

"You go first." You smile, encouragingly.

"Okay." He pulls you over to the couch. "I'm just...I'm sorry for storming out last night. I shouldn't have come here and expected you to help me—"

"No, stop. I'm sorry." You place a hand over his. "I want to help." You hold an arm out to Jungkook, who crosses the room and slides his hand into yours. "We want to help. We want to save the Crestmont."

Taehyung's eyes bulge. His voice drops to a whisper. "Really?"

"You were right. The Crestmont was mom's place."

You think about how it felt to be out there on the stage, in front of a crowd cheering your name. The excitement, the exhilaration. Your first stage.

The Crestmont is your mom's first stage. It's where she felt those same emotions for the first time. You can't let it be demolished. Not for anything.

"She deserves a legacy. We can't let them tear it down. I don't know how yet, but we'll save it."

"Thank you." A tear streaks his cheek, and his arms pull you and Jungkook into a tight bear hug.

"Thank you. For showing me what really matters, Tae." You whisper. "Let's do this together, okay?"

"For mom."

Taehyung holds out his pinky finger, and you link yours with his.

"For mom."

Where things go wrong.

Six months later.

Every second that passes is marked by a deafening tick from the kitchen clock.

Jungkook was supposed to be home 10 minutes ago. You're sat alone at the dinner table, a carefully presented meal for two spread across your mom's old polka dot table cloth. You even lit candles.

With a sigh you drop your chin into your hand, absentmindedly pushing your spaghetti around the dish while your eyes remain trained to the front door that will open any moment.

To be honest, it's been months since you and Jungkook shared a meal together. He spends most of his nights in his office, hunched over his laptop staring at the blinking cursor on some script he'll never finish. And ever since Jungkook's big script got rejected and he fell into a slump of no work, he had to get a job at a local convenience store all day for some spare cash to get you through the month.

You know he hates it. He hates the rude customers and how he can never shower the smell of grease out of his hair.

You know the bickering that turned into arguing that turned into fighting was just a result of his restless aggravation at being shot down too many times. Of watching his dream slip right through his fingers.

But you haven't exactly been as understanding as you should have been. You're overworked too, with the play, and The Crestmont, and you hate how easy it was to accept sleeping apart and missing dinner dates.

So you texted him to tell him you were making dinner tonight. A cease fire of sorts, or maybe just a feeble attempt at glueing back together the cracks that have appeared between you recently with pasta sauce and meatballs.

But he's late. Again.

And it makes you wonder whether there was any point in trying.

"Y/N?"

A gravelly voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Keys jangle onto the counter, shoes are slipped from feet and thrown into the storage cupboard with the creaky door.

"I'm in here." Your voice sounds meek, but you straighten and muster up a smile. To show at least one of you is making an effort.

Jungkook appears in the doorway, clad in his ugly traffic cone orange uniform. His shoulders are slumped, bangs limply stuck to his forehead. He looks tired, exhausted.

"What's all this?" He nods disinterestedly towards your untouched homemade buffet before heading to the sink to fix himself a glass of water.

"Dinner." You cough. He stiffens. "Remember?"

"Oh." He scratches the back of his neck. His eyes flash with something close to guilt momentarily, but then he smoothes it out. "Yeah. Dinner."

"It's okay, you're not too late. We can just heat this up in the microwave—"

"I already ate, Y/N." The glass in his hand slams onto the counter a little too loudly. "At the store."

You can't hide the way your face drops.

"Please." You whisper. "For me?"

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, unblinking, before he exhales shakily and pulls out the seat opposite you.

"What's on the menu?" He asks, hands already grabbing for the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table without so much as a glance at the food you worked so hard to prepare.

"Pasta."

"Right."

An uncomfortable silence settles. Jungkook nibbles at a meatball, and you suddenly feel too sick to the stomach to keep anything down.

You jump when Jungkook's fork clatters to the table. He wipes pasta sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin and you're sure you can see a slight tremor in his grasp.

"There's something I need to tell you."

His words ring out into the deafening silence that shrouds the apartment. You train your eyes to the candle in the middle of the table that flickers back and forth and carefully place down your own cutlery.

"Should I be worried?"

"No...I mean, I don't know. Maybe." Jungkook waves his hands around and when his eyes meet yours they're distant. Like the table that separates you spans oceans. "Just promise not to freak out."

"I'm not promising anything. Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shifts and the cheap flat pack dining chairs you bought when you moved in creak like they always do. "I...I got a movie deal. They loved the script I told them I've been working on and they want me to direct it."

Your heart fills with something sweet; pride. Even despite your downs recently this is still incredible news. You knew your boyfriend should be ecstatic...so why is he staring intently at the table cloth like it killed his whole family? "That's awesome, Kook. So what's the problem?"

"I gave them a different script."

Something shifts in the air. You hold your breath.

"Huh?"

"The script. The one you told me to burn before we came to New York. The one about you...your life."

Your blood runs cold and it's like your frozen. Just searching through the never ending blackness behind Jungkook's eyes that fails to falter, no matter how hard you pinch your inner thigh and hope you're about to wake up from a bad dream.

"You wouldn't." Your voice sounds strained and Jungkook doesn't even flinch. "You...I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry." He runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "It's just that they hated the first one and I wanted this deal so bad. It's a once in a lifetime chance Y/N, don't you see?"

The boy staring back at you isn't the sweet and sensitive Jungkook from Ocean City or the strong and passionate man from New York. His words get all mixed up in your head as you repeat them over and over and it's as if you don't even know him at all. All you can feel now is betrayal. And just like that all the anger that has been building inside you for months explodes.

"So my life is just a fucking plot for one of your indie movies, Jungkook?"

"It's always your life isn't it? Never mine." He slams his hands on the table hard enough to make your insides shake. "Ever since we came to New York I've supported you, sat back and watched as you achieved all your dreams. And it hurts, Y/N. To come home from my dead end job, and write another goddamn script that nobody wants to even read."

"I came to New York because of you!" You don't even realise you're crying until you taste the hot salty tears that won't seem to stop. "I came here so you could make it big! You're the one who encouraged me to audition for the play in the first place!"

"God, are you really that naive? Don't you see? I came to New York because I saw how much it meant to you." Jungkook lowers his voice, and there's something in his words that makes your heart twist. Pain. His eyes look watery and you long to reach out for him. Like the skin on skin contact will somehow make all of this okay. "And not once have you ever considered how it might feel for me to sit back in your shadow."

"So that's what this is? Jealousy?" You shake your head and get up from the table and turn to leave, but Jungkook grasps your wrist.

"Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am happy for you Jungkook. And I always will be." Your heart softens and you're reminded of the boyfriend you know. The boyfriend you love. You want to believe he's in there somewhere so you place your hand over his, and for a second he looks hopeful. "But this was never your story to tell. That's what hurts."

He drops your arm, gaze cold and distant. "Then I guess that's it then."

"What?"

The room starts to spin.

"If you can't accept my decision to go ahead with the project then I guess we can't do this anymore."

"This?" You whisper.

"Us."

"Jungkook...Are you saying we're over?"

He drops his head into his hands and lets out a sigh. "Maybe. I don't know."

"You don't know?" You chuckle but it's hollow, empty. "You don't know if you love me any more?"

Jungkook's face drops and he lurches towards you, but you step back.

"No, shit Y/N I didn't mean it like that!" He looks scared. "I was just angry and it slipped out."

"Don't." His arms reach for you again but the brush of his fingertips feels scalding hot, wrong. "Don't fucking touch me."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't lie to me Jungkook." Your vision is blurred with tears as you rip open the closet and yank out a suitcase. "You're not sorry. I was never your muse. I was just a stepping stool to the top."

"Where are you going?" Jungkook's crying now too. It comes out as a sob.

"Home." You say as you rip open your shared closet door and start throwing your things into the case. "I'm going home. Where I belong."

"I can't lose you like this. Please." He reaches for your wrist again but you're already half way to the door.

"Too late." You say. "I'm going home. And I'm never coming back."

The familiar scent of burned popcorn and candyfloss soothes you as you creep through the backdoor of the Crestmont. It always had a broken hinge which opened just enough for a body to squeeze through. Seems not a lot has changed since you left Ocean City.

It's dark inside. Silent too, without the popcorn machine running and the movie trailers playing on LED screens. You don't know what you expected. It's gone midnight by the time you get back to Ocean City, but you don't want to go home just yet.

Comfort washes over you as you run your fingers over the gilded edges of the counter, and slip beneath the hatch on auto pilot. It feels strange to be back here without the starched shirt and bow tie you used to hate. You've swapped out worn sneakers for heels that click against the tiles and you've performed on stages for crowd's bigger than the Crestmont's but here and now, you feel like yourself. Even though everything in your life has changed, you're still the same small town girl underneath it all.

Without thinking your legs carry you to the wall of fame. The faces smile up at you, like they're saying welcome back.

"Hey mom," You whisper, stopping momentarily in front of her portrait. You stared at it for so long as a kid that you have every detail committed to memory but seeing it up this close makes your breath hitch. "It's me."

With a sigh you force yourself past into the hall. Your hands tremble as you push open the door to the theatre. It's just how you remember it, sparkling gold and red velvet and mystery. But there's yellow tape strung up across all the seats and a sign has been propped up on the stage, red glaring letters burning a hole in your heart as you read them.

DANGER. DUE FOR DEMOLISHMENT. STAY AWAY.

All you can do is let your legs buckle, back sliding down the wall as you hug your knees to your chest and let out a throaty sob that echoes from the high ceiling.

When did everything go so wrong? You must be cursed. Everything you touch gets destroyed.

"Y/N?"

The lights flicker on, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. You wipe your tears, but that doesn't stop them from coming.

"Over here."

Your voice is small but a few seconds later Taehyung's face appears from behind one of the velvet seats. His eyes soften when he sees you curled up in the corner.

"What are you doing down here?" He clambers over the seat to join you, his long legs folded awkwardly in the small space.

"Having a one man party." You snort and point to your tear stained cheeks.

"Are you okay?" His hand covers yours and the contact makes you jump.

"Yes..." You sniff. He raises a brow. "No. Jungkook broke up with me."

Taehyung chokes. "What?!"

"I mean, we fought and then he...he said we were over." Your heart stabs painfully but you shrug. "So I came here. Didn't know where else to go."

He places an encouraging hand on your shoulder. "Listen...I know I haven't always been there for you when I should've. Hell, you always took care of me and I never even asked how you were doing." He offers a small smile. "But I'm here now. And you can tell me anything. If...if you want to."

A few seconds tick by in silence. You try to form a sentence but everything just comes back to the same three words.

"I miss mom." You blurt.

It echoes through the theatre, and you can practically hear the mermaids and the cupids painted on the ceiling gasp. It surprises you too, the combination of grief and relief that washes over you at finally admitting it.

"I know." Taehyung pulls you into his chest, lips whispering against your hair as you let out a sob and it's like all the sadness and denial is rushing out of you like a faucet, filling the whole room up like a water tank. You're terrified of the moment it gets too full, and you stop being able to breathe. "But you're a lot like her, y'know."

"That's exactly the problem!" Your words come out as a yell and it makes you both jump. "Everyone always says I look like her, I talk like her, I act like her. And I hated it for the longest time because I hated her for leaving us!"

"But without even realising it I became her, Tae. I did what I always said I wouldn't and became selfish. I hurt you, and Jungkook and even the Crestmont."

"That's not true."

"It is! And the worst part is I don't even hate her any more. I need her. To hold me, and tell me it's going to be alright. But she isn't here!"

"What does this have to do with Jungkook?"

"Jungkook wrote a script. A long time ago. About mom. And you and I. And everything that happened." You swallow, Taehyung's eyebrow raises though he doesn't look at all surprised by this information, nor as horrified as you that a record of your bleak shortcomings exists for anyone to read. "He got a movie deal. That's why we fought."

Taehyung hums. "You don't want him to make the movie?"

"It's not that I...I want to be happy for him. But I can't." You choke. "It's too painful. Remembering."

Accepting.

"When I said you were a lot like mom, I meant that you are headstrong." Taehyung pauses. "I felt that way once too. Like I hated mom and the goddamn world for taking her too soon. But in the end, the only person I hated was myself. Like however hard I tried I could never get over her, and all the pain I was pushing down into a dark place kept taunting me through the nightmares." He shivers, and you grip his hand tighter. "But one day I realised I don't have to be afraid of that pain any more. That pain is a part of me. But that doesn't mean I have to let it win."

"So what did you do?"

"I let myself feel it . I faced it. The only way I could let mom go was to stop running away." He pats your shoulder. "You need to set the girl in that script free, so you can move on."

And just like that, you're swimming...up, up, up, until you reach the surface of the water tank and you can take a heaving breath for the first time.

You throw your arms around his neck. It feels weird to hug him like this, but it's nice. "I missed you, Tae. Thank you.”

"I didn't do anything." He says. "The strength is inside you, you just need to find it. Just like you need to stop holding on to the past and let the new you shine for once."

You shake your head. "I need to talk to Jungkook. I don't know why I stormed off like that and..." You trail off. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"

Taehyung grins. "I didn't. I got called in to sort some paperwork and I noticed the back door ajar. Good thing it was you and not some crazy with a baseball bat, right?"

"At this time?" You nod to his still pyjama clad state. "Is it important?"

"Y/N," He laughs lightly. There's excitement shining in his eyes. "Someone just bought the Crestmont."

You scramble to your knees. "What?"

"We're staying open, and I get to keep my job."

And then you're hugging again, and laughing and crying because the Crestmont is going to be okay. You're going to be okay.

"That's incredible, Tae! Who is it? Who bought the Crestmont?"

"I don't know, it was an anonymous transaction. But the guy said he would be here...." He glances at his wrist watch, and as he does, the door creaks open. "Around now."

"Hello? Anyone here?" A familiar voice calls out.

"Jungkook?" Both of your jaws drop as you poke up from behind the seats. Sure enough your heart flutters when you see him, all wind swept and out of breath like he ran here.

"I thought you might be here." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

The car ride to the pier was mostly silent. Jungkook borrowed his dad's old beat up truck -- it was that or his old bike with the pegs on the back -- and it still smelled like leather and petrol like it used to.

Everything about Ocean City is the same as you remember it. The pier stands strong atop the rocky sand, sea air deliciously fresh as it fills your lungs. The rolling waves shimmer like gold dust below the wisps of pink clouds that greet the rising sun. The beach is a peaceful view at this time. No tourists, all of yesterdays sandcastles swallowed by the sea spray. It took a couple hours to work through the paperwork so by now it's early morning — 5:30am according to your phone lockscreen.

It's chilly, and your skin is covered with goose bumps even despite Jungkook's suede jacket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. But you don't mind.

You've missed this. You've missed Ocean City.

"No ice cream, I'm afraid." The breeze ruffles Jungkook's hair as he emerges from the fairground and settles beside you with his legs poking through the rails. He flashes you an apologetic smile. "I guess the parlour doesn't open until 9..."

You feel a pang in your chest. Being here is like a serious case of deja vu. Countless hours spent in this very spot, eating vanilla scoops with rainbow sprinkles beside Jungkook used to be so normal. When did you grow so far apart that you're surprised he even remembers?

"Jungkook..." You swallow hard when you meet his eyes, hands longing to reach out and stroke the stream of sunrise on his cheek that makes his dark eyes sparkle. "We...we need to talk. About everything."

There's a moment of silence filled only by the calls of seagulls greeting the morning before he speaks. "I sold the script."

He sounds nervous. Like he's not quite sure what your reaction will be.

You swallow. "And you used the money to buy the Crestmont?"

"Yeah." He says matter of factly, scratching a phantom itch at his nape. "I guess I did."

"Why?" Your voice is small.

"I can't loose you, Y/N." He murmurs. "Just like you can't loose your mom. The Crestmont was her everything. But you are mine. And loosing the Crestmont would be loosing a piece of you, and I couldn't stand that."

The breeze ruffles his hair as he reaches for your hand and links your fingers and squeezes hard. You don't make any move to stop him. You know what it means, so you squeeze back and return the sentiment. I'm sorry.

Before you can stop yourself you lurch forward, arms curling around his neck and it's like coming home. His hands pull you flush to his chest, hearts beating in sync and you know everything is going to be okay now.

"Thank you." You whisper against his nape. A tear rolls down your cheek and soaks into his collar and before you know it you're blubbering. "Thank you so much, Kook."

"You aren't mad?" His voice is muffled but you can hear the quirk of his brow.

"Mad? No..no..." You lean back and wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "But what about the movie? And your dream to be a director and--"

Jungkook grabs your shoulders. His own eyes are glassy as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"That was never what mattered to me, Y/N. Not even a little bit. There's one reason I went to New York and it's the same reason I came back to Ocean City tonight. You."

"But--"

"No but's. As long as we're together, I'm already living my dream." His lips turn up into a smile, his eyes tracing your face like it's the first time and he can't get enough. "And I never ever want to wake up."

You shift in your spot to face him properly for the first time, and emotion hits you like a tidal wave. It's like all of a sudden you realize how stupid you've been; to fight with the man before you, a man who only knows kindness, about the trivial when the things that mattered the most were always right here, in front of you. The things that mattered most were always in Ocean City.

You brace your hands on his shoulders and lean up so your lips are inches apart. His eyes fall shut naturally, and you can't help but laugh with what you can only describe as one thing: happiness.

"I love you." You whisper against his lips. A warm palm cups your jaw and closes the distance between them and you're almost too lost in the way Jungkook's kiss takes your breath away to hear his response.

"I love you too."

"Sooo..." You bite your lip with a coy smile when Jungkook pulls away, the blush upon his cheeks scarlet beneath the sun which is rapidly rising. "I take it we're no longer broken up?"

"Well duh," He swats you playfully. "You think I'd do all this just to dump your ass?"

"Hey!" You pout. "I dumped your ass."

Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh.

"Besides," He glances out over the horizon nonchalantly and shrugs. "I'm gonna need help if I'm gonna start my own film company and run the Crestmont."

Your jaw drops. "A what now?"

"A film company." He explains. "A different type of film company, right here in Ocean City. For the outcasts like me who have a vision that even the biggest names in New York can't see yet." He smiles, so big and bright it makes your heart leap. "I'm gonna show them, Y/N. And everything I need to do it is right here in Ocean City."

"I know you will. I never doubted you for a second." You take his hand and link your fingers, squeezing hard. "And you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

Epilogue.

"Just keep your eyes shut!"

"I already know where we're going, so why can't I look?" You laugh, attempting and failing to tug Jungkook's interlocked fingers away from your eyes.

"Shush, it's a surprise! Just roll with it."

A surprise. That's what Jungkook said earlier too when he woke you up at the crack of dawn by throwing a dress at your head and telling you to meet him outside in the truck in 10 minutes or else.

By the time you pulled up into the familiar parking lot of your not-so-mysterious destination, the sky was already aflame with the glow of morning skimming the horizon, and Jungkook practically leapt out of the truck, palms unusually sweaty as he grasped your hand and pulled you towards the path quicker than your feet could carry you.

"What's the hurry, Kook?" You get out between heavy breaths, quads burning as the path gets steeper beneath your feet.

Come to think of it, your boyfriend has been acting strangely all week. Like hiding things behind his back when you walk into a room or talking in hushed whispers on the phone to Taehyung when he thought you were sleeping.

"You'll see." The path levels out and you stop. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, chin tucked into the cleft of your shoulder like a perfect puzzle piece. "Okay. Now you can look."

You round the corner, heart racing when your eyes flutter open and your vision is filled with a sea of yellow flowers. Your place.

The meadow is just how you left it, tall grass and sunny blooms dancing beneath the rays of morning sun peeking out from between the clouds. A warmth spreads through your chest and you both laugh when Gureum lets out an excited yelp, before bounding off between the stems playfully.

"I think the little guy wants us to follow him." Jungkook raises a brow and throws you a knowing shrug.

Excitement flutters in your stomach like a butterfly trapped between cupped palms. "How could I refuse?"

Fingers interlinked, you part the sunflowers and jog after the ball off fluff bouncing across the meadow, the breeze cool and forgiving as it ruffles the strands of hair that billow behind you.

Eventually you reach the clearing, and Gureum wags his tail at you proudly when you stoop down to scratch him behind his ears.

The sun reflects in Jungkook's eyes, turning them a warm golden brown. "Turn around."

You spin on your heels with a questioning glance. "Why?" That's when you see it. The spot where everything began. The tree where Jungkook kissed you all those years ago has bloomed with fragrant blossoms, and twinkle lights glow like tiny stars around it's branches. A blanket is laid out in the sun flecked shade beneath it, littered with feather cushions and lanterns and a trail of sunflower petals that begin at your feet.

"You did this?" You take his chin in your palms, face beaming despite the tears that have started to blur your vision. "Oh, Kook."

"Surprise." He smiles knowingly, grabbing you from behind and spinning you round and round until you both land with a soft thump in the middle of the outdoor cushion fort. "You haven't even seen the best part yet." He says with a nod to his right.

It's then that you notice the white sheet that's strung up a couple meters away between the trunks of two trees, Jungkook's vintage projector set up in front of it.

"What is this?" You ask, bewilderment evident in your voice.

"Gureum, would you do the honours?" Jungkook chuckles, extending a finger to point at a remote that your puppy obediently picks up with his teeth and drops into your lap with a wag of his tail.

Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and takes a deep breath, like he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. "Go ahead. Press play and find out."

Your head shakes fondly, but your fingers tremble with anticipation as they find the PLAY button. You press it and the projector starts turning, a light flicking on at the top that makes a grainy image appear on the sheet.

The first scene is you. A teenager, dancing through the sunflower field, laughter spilling from your lips. The first time you hung out. And then it switches. You, again. Cleaning up a spill at the Crestmont, unaware of the camera. You. Paint in your hair as Jungkook chases you around the apartment in New York. You. Tears in your eyes as you hold baby Gureum for the first time. You. Asleep on Jungkook's shoulder on the subway, the camera panning to his face which lights up in a big grin, lips mouthing three words.

I love you.

Tears are hot on your cheeks, laughing as you remember the good moments and the bad, the funny and the sad, all immortalized forever through Jungkook's eyes.

The film fades out, and you throw your arms around your boyfriends neck. He chuckles when you tackle him to the ground, throwing a leg over his lap so that you can lean down and capture his lips between yours in a kiss that says all the words you want to say but you don't know how to. I love you too.

"I take it you liked it, then?" Jungkook says coyly, thumb stroking your cheek.

"It was beautiful Jungkook." You place your hand over his. "Now I know why you're always goddamn filming me."

"What can I say? You're my muse."

"Shut up." You punch him playfully. "You're gonna make me blush."

It's Jungkook's cheeks that flush pink. "Actually..." He starts to sit up, fumbling around in his back pocket. "There's something else."

"Oh?"

He clears his throat. "The first time we came to this place I knew I loved you. Back then, I said I wanted to show you what I found most beautiful. And it was you. It's always been you." He takes your hand, grip tight. "When we met we were just kids with big dreams. We might be older now but heck -- I still don't know what I'm doing. All I know is dreams come and go but you never left. You always stayed by my side. Which is why I want to promise you something."

"What, Kook?" You manage to whisper. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute in your ears. Is this what you think it is?

Jungkook swallows hard, eyes boring into yours.

"That I'll go wherever you go. New York, across oceans, up mountains -- you name it. As long as we're together, everything will be okay. So that's why I wanted to ask..." His fingers tremble as he produces a tiny black box, flicking it open to reveal a ring that sparkles see through in the sun. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Oh Jungkook," You throw your arms around his neck, overcome with emotion now as you capture his lips with your own. "Of course I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask."

He lets out a sigh of relief, and then he's spinning you around in circles until you're both dizzy with love and belly laughter.

"I love you." He whispers, eyes shiny. His hand gently grasps your wrist as he slides the ring onto your finger.

You've heard him say it a hundred times before, but this time it's different. This time it's forever. Your heart flutters.

"I love you too, Kook."

Where there are new beginnings

Ocean City is the same as it always was.

You wake up each morning to the distant crash or waves, and you fall asleep each night to the tinkling fairground music that makes your heart sing. Tourists come and go, flooding the casinos and eating churros on the beach.

The Crestmont is doing better than ever. Once Taehyung took over as owner, the theatre became the heart of the city, attracting visitors from near and far to see the renowned plays directed by none other than Jeon Jungkook, the most sought after playwright and filmographer in all of the East Coast.

And then there's you. Ever since you starred in one of Jungkook's plays, about a girl from a seaside city moving to New York with big dreams, there's been no shortage of movie deals and acting opportunities thrown your way.

But in the end, you always find yourself coming back to Ocean City.

Tonight the Crestmont reopens for business after some much needed renovations. Taehyung is throwing a party, and there will be plenty of big Hollywood faces attending to see the brand new theatre and the updated __.

But one thing will always remain the same. The picture of your mom hung in the gallery. Her big smile is the heart of the Crestmont, greeting each and every visitor with pride.

And in the empty frame at the end of the wall of fame, there's a new picture.

You. Smiling, with your hair over one shoulder, just how you imagined. And beside you is Jungkook, with his arm wrapped around your waist and Taehyung holding Gureum and making a silly peace sign behind your head.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Okay so hi if you’re still here!! I decided to put this at the end because I didn’t wanna spoil the ending so please send love to @brekkiejeon​ !! They sent me the request for the ending of this fic all the way back in January and i’m trash and took like 7 months to finish writing it so i hope you enjoyed it even so lovely !!! <3 thank you for the request and sorry for the wait, this one really got me creative lol! 

Also I’d like to dedicate the smut in this fic to @atastefulwonderland​ because I know you love some good ole JK loving!! Hehe, ily~~

Also lemme know if this was bad because I never usually give OC so much backstory because I want it to be as relatable to the reader as poss obvi but these characters wrote themselves lmao like i’m just the writer i had no control okay???? I just do what these mfkers say. LOL.

[mimibtsghost7]

Fuck you and all your little brain washed rats sending people hate because you cant take responsibility for your actions!! But go on stay silent like you always do, pretend its nothing of your business, keep being a fetishizing racist delulu like you love to be while pretending to be the best blog on tumblr!!!

NOT like anyone will see this but YOU will so LET’S GOOO!!!~~

TW: mental health and more (if you feel like this can trigger you, pls don’t read this, breathe in and out and listen to this HERE and remember I love you), loads of tea and Mimi NOT being a friendly and kind ghost. 

funny enough: 

I never pretended of said I was the best blog. But I guess the fact that you say it might be because you heard it frequently? Thanks for thinking so^^

I sent hate to no one and u r the one sending it to me rn ^^ In my whole 4 year journey on Tumblr I received a lot of love but also worse hate that you can imagine. Yes you are saying now you are receiving hate ... funny how it’s bad when It’s addressed to you but when it’s at me and my dear followers it is not. Still, I never told anyone to go hate on you. You were the idiot that tagged my old blog and as soon as my blog was gone pple searched me and found out you were the reason behind this. But as you keep hating on me. Let me tell you I am kind but don’t mistake that for me being a coward.

I am not into insulting others and I don’t care much if you insult me. BUT don’t YOU DARE touch my dear followers. Insulting ain’t hard. Let me try: The only rat here is you hiding in your hole as an anon. I went and compared your writing with this ask and previous hate asks. And it was you~ Good for you~ the sewers smell just like your filthy mouth spilling sh*t left and right. So on brand. However, I know who you are @hobisbeautifulass Hi ^^

Me racist? HAHAHAHAH you truly know NOTHING about me nor my ex-blog’s message. It was a place when you were welcomed no matter your skin color, religion, gender ... proof? well it got deleted thanks to you. but ask around this time and search for who reblogged my posts as they were always the top of the tags (even if I don’t trust how bad you are at research). I supported the BLM movement and still do and will always do but I did so veeery early without anyone telling me. Not for the notes but because of my humanity. I wished my dear followers’ happy holidays no matter their religions. And never cared about those things. Why judge someone on something based on religion or how they were born. As for the LGBTQ+ community, I was always and will always be there for love being love. I talked about mental health and opened venting nights. I helped left and right and when I was receiving hate because of people like you spitting lies about me. What did I do? Did I go online and called people bad? No. I looked back at myself and asked myself if I did anything wrong. I tried to educate myself and apologized sincerely when I had to. I read books and watched documentaries to learn how to become a better human. AND never repeated a mistake twice. You tend to forget that our cultures are different and sometimes you grow up to see some things as normal when they are not. This is not an excuse tho, so I always believed that I was lacking and if someone had something to say against me, there is a chance they are right and just in case I should reflect on myself. But for your case it was pure nonsense. ME? a stalker? how can I stalk when I have social anxiety and at that time couldn’t even leave my room? I am even afraid of taking public transportations and just the other days I was crying from joy when I took a taxi alone. they said I was in Japan stalking Jimin and Jungkook and took a pic when I was NEVER EVER was on that land. You put me on the same list as people who bought info about BTS’ flights to be on the same plane as them? I was stalked before and let me tell you it ain’t cute and fun. I am even scared of the idea of being followed. that’s why I never shared openly my age, country, or anything about me on my blog. that’s why I have no personal social media to this day and that’s why making my ex-blog was some sort of miracle in my life. 

Silent? yes I was silent when I received hate and didn’t even vent to my dear followers or pointed fingers. Why? because I thought as my day was hell I shouldn’t make anyone’s day worse. I was worried about my dear followers with mental illnesses being triggered. I tried to take my life so many times I lost count but I still came here and smiled. It was my safe place and you took it away. Yet, I should pity you? You hated on me first for no reason and you know it deep inside but right now you are trying to convince yourself that you are the angel and feel no guilt. Compared to you. I pointed fingers at no one and didn’t name you when my blog was gone. Why? because compared to you, I thought you will not be able to manage the hate and what was done .. I didn’t want you to suffer the same way I did when you are the one who made me suffer the most the past couple of days. But the kind Mimi is someone you will never remember because you dared touch the friends I love and calling them names. I don’t mind people insulting me but don’t you dare touch my people. I know myself best. My dear friends/followers know me best. I thought ... I could leave without this mess but you keep barking in my ask box and it’s annoying. I left this backup account just to talk to my friends and yet you are here to ruin things again? I should stop being kind to the ones who deserve non of it. I ignored you when I had so many followers and you went silent too because you were scared of me. But as soon as I lost my blog because of you, you went, edited and then reblogged that stalker post. How can I be a stalker? do you even know the definition of a stalker? do you even know shame? well .. I don’t think so.. you said it yourself. You are NOT ashamed (and you reblogged that so many time lol). 

Death threats? this is no competition but thanks to people like you I have been there and wish no one to be there not even you. The only difference is that you almost killed me for real. You were not the sole reason? Great job walking away from you beloved word: RESPONSIBILITY. And I didn’t get just anon hate, I got literal tagging by people like you, DMs, and people pointing guns at me. That’s why I didn’t mention you. I was worried about the one who took away what I worked for for 4 YEARS. I was more sad and concerned about the ARMY fandom here. Do you know how many rely on my updates? do you know how many people said I helped them? do you know any of that? do you think 200k people were “rats”? Do you think if I did and say wrong thing I will not be questioned by those people. I always told my dear followers: “friends, if I do or say anything wrong or share anything that hurts anyone please tell me. I am willing to learn from everyone.” But what did you know? what did you do? Well ..  guess you love notes? As the most notes you ever got and the most attention was when talking about me? 

Love how you talk about fetishing when my blog was what people call “family friendly”. I also like BTS. I love them for their music, talent, personalities and the happiness they give me. I also enjoy BTS’ bond and love their interactions. I posted content of all kinds of interactions JM X JK, JK X V, V X JIN, JIN X SG, SG X JH, JH X RM, RM X JM ... If you are calling this fetishing asian men just because I scream over BTS as a fan and love their bonb. Then aren’t you against the idea of being an ARMY? I was a clear OT7 and you were told that you weren’t right: 

 Then you answered this without even explaining the nonsense about me: 

idk .. I am trying to find sense in your nonsense so .. wait wait let me look at the definition of fetishism first. 

Fetishism /ˈfɛtɪʃɪz(ə)m/ noun: a form of sexual behavior in which gratification is linked to an abnormal degree to a particular object, activity, part of the body, etc.

Then .. judging from your URL alone hmmm ... cute. I won’t even talk about the SMUT you write that is full of kinks and fetishism. Well I have no problem with fan fiction but the irony you spit is out of this world.

Also, I made money out of mimibtsghost? HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH no lil one. I worked day and night for FREE. At some point when BT21 just came out and there were no products on AMAZON or anywhere but S.Korea, someone reached out to me to offer 20% off or something for my dear followers. When they asked what I wanted I said what about international giveaways for my dear followers. Basically, made gifs, found content, updates, analysis, edits, and so on for free. Again, w-wait .. Aren’t you the one asking for commissions? Well .. It’s not wrong. But again THE irony. 

So, I went to see that post you made about me with “PROOF” and it was just another person who was salty as I got them blocked I can’t even recall who they were but oh well. Their arguments according to YOU and many should be taken as FACTS just because they said them?  You said HERE that your first comeback was MOST:7 that came in just last year (2020) SO what the hell do YOU know about what happened years before you came when all the proof you pointed at where baseless without any backing?

Let’s see this so wise person you used to delete my blog and what I have done ^^

The gifs: There is a story to this. The first week I came to Tumblr, It was my first time on this site and the first time I share anything. I shared some content and my analysis had a lot of notes for a small creator that started just a week ago. But I made a mistake, I found a gif and posted it while crediting the gif maker. At the time I had NO idea it was wrong. I logged off and after 5 hours I log in and there was a WAR for that ONE gif. The big blog had me blocked and her friend was telling me to take it off. As soon as the person told me I did IMMEDIATELY and apologized againa and again and told them to tell the original gif maker to deblock me as I want to apologize directly and that they can block me after that. They did and I apologized but they just kept insulting me. Of course it was MY mistake and that’s why I apologized. But for them. for a mere gif (yes I say a mere gif because I made so many gifs and they were used on all platforms but I never thought it was necessary to hate that much on someone like they did to me). That blog was big and had big blog mutuals. Thanks to that, I became someone you do NOT become mutuals with but block and never reblog content from. Without any big mutuals. Without any shoutouts. Only my love for BTS, my dear followers’ support and my hard work.. My blog, became bigger and FAST (I got 10k in less than 6 months after I started) and that brought loads of jealousy and thus more rumors. Even if, I apologized and since then made my own gifs. And I made SO many gifsets that I can’t remember how many there were. What I can recall is at some point I made them daily and many times a day.

Ships Jikook? I posted content of ALL the members interactions. I was here at a time where Jikook stans and Taekook stans where always fighting. BUT I posted about both and even made so many posts to encourage loving all the members and all the interactions. I also used the tags solely used for shipping with other big tags to show that BTS’ interactions are all important and their bond is beutiful. That our fandom shouldn’t hate on a member just because they are not part of a ship we like. And wait .. even if I shipped Jikook? I got called ALL those names by someone who ship the members with readers and write sexual scenes? Like, wait ... I am truly confused. Like, write fanfic and do all you want as long as you hurt no one I guess but why am I getting hurt for doing non of it? Like according to you, the person you should be cancelling is yourself?! I am also not into cancel culture like you so hahah whatever.

Posted stalker pics: well wow the story changes each time. Next thing you will hear that I was the one holding a camera for a member in a Vlive lol. Let me teach you about this update thing I was doing. I follow accounts I trust and that’s how we get info circulating fast. I always do reasearch but sometimes mistakes are made. For example when lately people shared pictures of BTS leaving their virtual concerts and schedules. There was a watermark of a news outlet. Normally we trust those but only later we realized that those people stalked BTS. You clearly can’t know it all. But I still didn’t share many pics related to many events (I will not name those as pple can search them even now because some pple never deleted those). And all big accounts shared many pics then deleted later. This happens all the time but it happened like ONCE for me. However, I am called a stalker for that? 

When Jonghyun passed away ... I don’t even wanna recall that night as the memories just ... when that happened I posted about it and send my condolescences. that post had over 10k notes and was at the top the tag. Why did I do that? I was devastated. Yes, many were but I will talk about me rn: I was suicidal the days before that and one of the songs that I listened to when I was broken where by him. I has been in the kpop world since 2006. And learned about his group since their debut with ‘Replay’. I was never a stan but I still knew of many groups and listened to all the songs I liked. I was very sad when he was gone and ANGRY mostly. Why is this angel leaving? Why is someone like me still here? Why did I not leave instead of him? How much did he suffer? And in the midst I posted a post from twitter that stated how agencies usually put down pple with mental illiness and hide it in the industry. Yes, that was important but NOT at that time. I shouldn’t have posted that and I realized after 5 min of doing so that it was WRONG. So I deleted it FAST but it kept being reblogged and I kept getting hate and people telling me: “Go kill yourself”... the sad part is that I almost did as my answer was “true ... why am I still here?” I apologized and logged off then to this day won’t forget crying at 3 AM while walking outside next to my dad. I was outside as I couldn’t breathe anymore and the idea of seeing the walls of my room was hell. I cried and cried and the teary eyes that my father looked at me with are something I am ashamed of to this day. To add one more thing while I am spilling the beans. I hate learning about someone dying. My grandma passed away sometime before that and it was so shocking to me. and some people came and told me when I was mourning her: Go follow that bitch of grandmother of yours. And for what? At that moment I didn’t think I would live to see the next year but I went to therapy and took medecine that was hurting and made me shake all day just to turn somewhat sane. No one knew tho ... I smiled all day and cried all night.. Even on the blog I fought no one of the ones who hated me. I just blocked them but even that was an insult to them?

Again, you said no one should defend me. Yet, you were ready to fight whoever touched anyone around you. What about changing your URL to beautifulassirony

Also THE hypocrisy. If you are sorry then why are you answering an ask of someone isulting someone you want to apologize to? Just make a post wher you apologize or ignore it from the start?

One more thing but surely not the last. You said you were good with research which you are NOT. So, let me show you what an OG detective ARMY can do. But first, as I was scrolling I saw some of your “work” (let’s not even talk about those gifs) and I am just giving my point of view here: I hate how you painted Namjoon as this horny-idiotic-make-dog. Like I get it it’s a fanfic or Namjoon as a dad but ... Namjoon is such a smart man who is very respectful and ofc he is a human with needs like many but what the hell is this way of portraying a character? Also a character is not cool, amazing, and a strong woman just because they curse and belittle their partner. 

Oh well, only you kept reblogging that as it show 36 reblogs when only 33 as still there when I looked and out of those 13 reblogs are yours? (you might have reblogged it more) but again some people might have liked ... people have different taste ... so ... whatever. 

Let’s continue, shall we ^^. You said you were the victim here when I was the one getting robbed right? How can I believe someone who reblogged the post below and was proud calling themselves an abomination or how the Oxford dictionary defines it:  a thing that causes disgust or loathing. For once you weren’t wrong.

What can you expect from someone who has the “I am not like others” kinda mentality while stating relatable things that everyone goes through?

This is getting pretty long. So to sum this up. You are now telling others that hate is NOt ok and that they should be ashamed of themselves when you yourself is not ashamed of hating on me?

I am not the type that sends anon hate. I might ignore some barking but the past days you came and bite me hard. I face the ones I have to face without fear. I know I am not the bad guy here and I don’t care much what you think about me. Even BTS got haters. This says a lot. BUT do NOT dare talk badely of my dear friends/followers. You said you do research well? Start by deleting the post below that was originally by ME from your blog ... oh how meticulous you are. From your baseless receipts to your twisted logic. Indeed people on the internet can say anything and it will be FACTS. You painted me as the devil and painted yourself as this researcher? What’s next you receiving a Phd in ‘pity me’ after your MBA in lies and irony? Whatever~ 

Whaaatever~ Karma will have upcoming talks with you. No need for you to apologize. I never cared about you and you only got attention using me. But I am not here anymore how will you get that blog running now? Are you gonna add me in a fanfic next? No need for you to send me my appearance fee when you do so~ And no need for you to apologize to me just apologize to you conscience if you have any left.  As for me @hobisbeautifulass​ you are just someone I will forget soon anyway~~ 

And because according to what you said HERE when you described the things you hate about people and I thought that was VERY close to how you treated me. Thus, you might really not stand yourself rn.

Do.Not.Worry. BTS are starting the Love Myself campaign again and just in time for you to jump in (you are good at jumping to conclusions about me so I won’t worry about you). I know you don’t like me or my friends but be sure to love yourself at least ^^ 

You are a Hobi stan? Then learn from Hobi to share some sunshine not bring the storm. Have a good day~