#3 best laptops for engineers

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3 Best Laptop For Engineering Students on a Budget

Are you an engineering student on a tight budget looking for the perfect laptop to help you with your studies? Finding the right one can be tricky, as you need a device that can handle complex software and run smoothly, but you don’t want to spend too much money. In this guide, we will take a look at some of the best laptops for engineering students that are budget-friendly. Read more

[divorcedfiddleford]

i already know what the story behind the picture is but please explain it anyway we need to educate the masses

oh my god thank you for enabling me ive been thinking about this all day. regarding this post i made yesterday and this classic image (which i actually just found out was posted seven years ago today!)

basically as can be read in the post at BigFest in 2016 somebody had what i believe was a fan-made prop based on the laptop from season 2 of gravity falls. alex hirsch attended this convention and decided to type in the password to the laptop. we never learned the password in the show so lots of people were excited to find out!

a HUGE thing to note here is that journal 3 was still months away from releasing and in fact while a couple pages had been released as promotional material it was still being worked on until, like... gosh i wanna say may is when they finally started printing it? don't quote me on that though my point is that this was all taking place pre-journal 3 and, therefore, many fans were still operating under the (sensible) impression that the laptop which

had been designed by fiddleford

had been built by fiddleford

had fiddleford's name on it

said "PROPERTY OF F" on it (at this point it had been established through promo images that "F" referred to fiddleford)

was assumed to be fiddleford's by, like, four different main characters

was given to and used by fiddleford following s2e7

fiddleford presumably knew the password to

would also belong to fiddleford. right? i mean logically. logically, guys.

so when alex hirsch revealed that the password had been "STANFORD" all along, people thought that was a little bit... well

of course, a couple months later journal 3 would be published and it would say that the laptop had actually been STANFORD'S, not fiddleford's, and that he had made the password his own name. so technically i lied in my earlier post, there IS a heterosexual explanation for this, but imo it's still bullshit. like sorry i don't believe for a fucking second that stanford "i need to encode all of my messages in multiple ciphers and write in invisible ink" pines would ever make a password as simple as his own name. he wouldve picked like something with six different layers of alternate meanings and also put it through atbash at the VERY least. also as i listed above there is a LOT of evidence which would support the laptop belonging to fiddleford, as opposed to ford, which has this random retcon (and like... some of the computer keys are different colors? i guess?? idk that bit was stupid) as its only supporting evidence.

my theory is that, while writing the show, alex and the other writers had intended for the laptop to belong to fiddleford, but for whatever reason, when they were writing the book, they decided to make it ford's instead. i want to make clear that i DON'T think this swap was motivated by homophobia, or as a reaction to seeing people interpret the password in a gay way. by the time that this photo was taken several promotional journal pages had been released, so it's safe to say that even if they were still adding the finishing touches to the book, it was pretty much in its final stage and in fact might have already started printing (i think the first photos we see of the book itself were posted like a week or two after bigfest). so to assume that there's a correlation there is both unfounded and extremely unlikely.

now, the stargazing scene reprint, on the other hand

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 2 — JJK (m.)

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 22.5k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, lovely hot nerdy jk ): (i think i speak for all women when i say that nerdy jungkook is the best jungkook say I IF U AGREE),[explicit sexual content: masturbation (f)], has the budding romance finally hit the second towers? read more to find out

NOTES hey everyone thank you so much for the overwhelming support on this silly little fic. i hope you guys enjoy this update and let me know your thoughts in the replies/reblog section and in my inbox, wherever you prefer hehe <3

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You usually finish prepping for the office at around 7:40 am, just enough time left to walk to the station and catch your bus at exactly 8 am.

As of now, it's 7 but the clock's longer hand has moved past the 40-minute mark, and you are still in your living room, supposedly all done and ready to go – except that you're stuck on the floor looking at your laptop perched on your coffee table, staring at it blankly, the HR email looking right back at you; almost daunting.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this event is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this meeting is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You've been reading it over and over again you're sure you can recite it with ease if prompted. It's in the hopes that the name Jeon Jungkook will suddenly disappear somewhere in the email – that maybe you missed some detail, and it doesn't actually mention his name at all. You read the email repeatedly wishing that it is just a glitch in the system and what you found out about yesterday are all just a part of your extreme delusion. Maybe it's one of those nights with Jimin at his apartment where you would indulge in a little bit of guilty pressure – pots, to be exact – and just let it take you to a whole new world.

But you and Jimin didn't go home together last night, and you definitely did not smoke pot. He went straight to the airport and you straight home with nothing but mixed feelings inside, and you were more than thankful that Jimin was in a bout of panic himself about not getting there on time that he didn't notice you squirming in his passenger seat.

There is a vague memory in your head with him telling you he was going to come with Namjoon, but you can't be for sure. Everything that transpired that night is all reduced down to the very moment in the comfort room when you realized the glaring information about Jungkook being three eggs in your basket: first, he's Jimin's cousin. Second, he's an executive in your company – a CTO, to be exact – and while you aren't exactly working under his department and they are all the way up ten floors above you, he's still technically your boss according to the hierarchy. The son of the CEO of the very company you are working at. Not only is he the CTO, but third he's also your neighbor. Someone you've met weeks ago whom you may have developed a growing relationship with that will now possibly be bleak in a matter of hours or days depending on if you are going to tell him or if he finds out.

That is the thing that you're currently debating with yourself about as you let your eyes glide over the unsuspecting email from HR for the nth time.

7:50 am – the clock on your screen reads.

You think about the dock pay that you're gonna get if you come to work late. At this point, you can run to the station and still catch your bus, but you have to decide in a minute for that to be possible.

Groaning, you feel defeated as you shut your laptop close and stand up from the floorboards, your eyes going over to the door across from you which earns yourself a wince.

I'm gonna get a dock pay and it will all be Jungkook's fault. That jerk.

Okay – obviously, he's far from a jerk and he has nothing to do with any of this. You just like blaming anybody.

You sigh, grabbing your bag, finally making up your mind to just go and see for yourself what today has to offer you. A little optimism, if you will. But if you manage to bump into Jungkook at that company you aren't sure if you're not going to do something embarrassing because one thing about you, you do not know how to face certain challenges in life like a matured individual – you always have to be a little overboard and overdramatic with it.

You were heading towards the door when you suddenly remember your ID.

Your ID. Funny.

As you pick it up off the coffee table, you think about how you don't really wear it on the way to work and on your way home. You don't like the feeling of the lanyard wrapping around the skin of your nape, so you've always just worn it when you're in the office where it is mandatory. Otherwise, you make sure to take it off.

Suddenly, you think about a scenario where you're the kind of employee to wear their ID all the time, and those nights where you'd go to Midday straight from work to have dinner with Jungkook would've turned out differently because then if you were to have worn your ID during one of those meetings, he would've figured out that you're working at the same company. And maybe... the conversation about his relation to Jimin would've came up.

And maybe, you won't feel so... complicated about the whole thing.

How – in the two weeks that you've spent with him – do you know too much yet so little about him? How did you ever not ask each other where you work and how did this all come to you like a landslide and now you have no way out?

God's sake, you know about his dog, and you've exchanged numbers... and yet...

Although, granted, maybe you should've asked for each other's socials? Does he have Instagram? Twitter? Maybe if you had exchanged those sooner, you would've gotten to know him more and made the connections you only recently found out.

You want so badly to reach out to Jimin to talk to him about all of this. But he hasn't really contacted you since he sent off Namjoon to the airport. Maybe he really did leave with him, and it isn't just your imagination when he said something about going there last night when you sneaked out of the party.

But deep inside... you do not really want to talk to him about any of this, at all.

It is, to simply put, awkward.

You feel ashamed for gushing about your neighbor that is apparently the same person as his cousin. Feel embarrassed about how you ogled over him to Jimin when in fact, they're related. You don't know about other people, but you know the unspoken rule about not dating your friends' relatives? Not like you're dating Jungkook, but you have a crush on him for fuck's sake. The strings do not even stop at their blood relation because it extends to your workplace as well.

You know Jimin well enough to feel confident about not getting judged by him if you were to tell him about it, and if he actually does, he will directly say it to your face as far as you're concerned. But...

It's just all too awkward to tell anyone about. You're in too deep in the sea of embarrassment and shame you cannot think of ways to get out of it.

Your head is starting to hurt, and you know it's the sign to stop thinking. So, you shut up all the voices in your head and walk towards the door ready to go out, telling yourself that whatever happened, you're going to handle everything cooly like the grown woman you are.

Stepping outside the threshold of your apartment, you're just about to turn around to lock the door on your way out when suddenly, the door across yours opens and there welcomes you the man starring in your list of problems for the day: Jeon Jungkook, your neighbor Unit 446.

"Oh, hi. Good morning—"

You turn on your heel so quickly and open the door to your apartment so fast it's almost at the speed of light, entering your apartment once again and slamming the door closed, pressing your back on it as your eyes widen; heart beating at a staccato of thug, thug, thug as you take a moment to hold your breath.

What the fuck.

How in the hell is this the first time you see each other getting ready to work? It couldn't have happened in the first week you knew him or hell, the first day?! Why must you have bumped into him like that the moment you finally knew about who he is? Everything is getting way too ridiculous. It's like the universe is telling you once again that you'll always be her middle child: unfavorable by all ends.

"Shit." You hiss, biting your lip quite harshly as you think about how you must've looked like a goddamn fool turning on him like that for no reason. Jungkook must've been weirded the hell out – and rightfully so.

You face-palm. Damn, you were just telling yourself you're gonna handle everything like a grown, matured woman.

You unconsciously walk on your tippy toes on the way to the small window on the side of the door that lets you oversee outside your door, peeking from there like a creep as you watch Jungkook, still on his porch – with his grey coat over his arm – looking down on his phone and doing something with it.

That something is apparently sending you a text.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: why did u seem like u just saw a ghost?

The message read when you open your phone at the bell of notification. You haven't even read all of it yet when another one comes in.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: am I that appalling in the mornings? Haha 🥴

On any occasion, you would've laughed and go along with the joke, but you do not know what to say to him.

You stand there doing nothing, just staring at his two consecutive messages, poorly left on read. You purse your lips as you peek from the small window again, getting a glimpse of Jungkook standing still on his porch, eyes glued to his phone. He waits for awhile, and then you see him shaking his head with a hint of... smile on his face?

And then your phone dings once again.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:53am]: good morning by the way. Get safely to work

You stare at it so hard that the next second you look at the window, he isn't there anymore.

Letting out a heavy breath, you knock your head on the door, thinking about how you missed your 8 am bus and you have to wait for 30 minutes for another one to come and most especially, how you're going to get a dock pay for being late.

It's almost as if Jungkook is running for higher office the way his face is plastered all over the LED screens inside the building, showing the announcement of his ceremony. It's taunting almost, the way it was the first thing you see when you swiped your ID for entry.

Although, you do find it funny that it's the same man you just saw in front of you when you stepped outside of your place earlier this morning.

"Sol," you call your co-worker and also your friend, sliding your swivel chair closer to her desk. "Do we really have to go to the ceremony?" You ask, seeing that everybody in the office is already setting aside the stuff on their desks to head out to the 12th floor where the announcement ceremony will be held.

Sol fixes the post-it note on her computer first before turning to you, "Of course we do."

You pout at that.

"Is Ms. Jung really gonna be mad if we don't attend?"

"You know how she has this obsession of making our department look good, so I'm assuming yes." She answers, and you slump in your seat knowing damn well she's right to think that. Sol sees your seemingly grumpy disposition and asks, "Why? You don't wanna go?"

If only she knew.

You shake your head to her question.

"I just think it's gonna be boring," you shrug, the lie rolling on your tongue seamlessly.

"Eh, at least it's less work for today. Those things run for two hours and there's free lunch so that's that."

Events like these are supposed to be advantageous for you because again, Sol is right and those things do run for about two hours meaning less workload. Also, free lunch. Who doesn't like free stuff? But then again, Jungkook is going to be there and with your luck, you're starting to think that you're going to see more of him from now on. That is just how the world works against you.

"You're right." You say, frowning becoming more and more apparent, you're sure.

Sol chuckles at you and stands up herself, fixing her dress as you follow her out of the office.

Before you could completely go out though, you stop her on her tracks.

"Hey, do you think you have a face mask I can borrow?" You say, looking hopefully at her. Sol raises her brows, obviously confused at your strange request. Clearing your throat, you pretend to cough a little in your fisted hand. "I'm feeling a little under the weather today, but I drank my meds this morning. Forgot the mask." You reason with her, adding more lies to the conversation.

"Oh, I see. Okay, I think I have it." Sol perks up at the realization and you both enter your office once again, with your co-worker digging through her desk's drawer for the mask you were asking her for.

She hands it to you as soon as she finds it and you're quick to wear it around your mouth, silently rejoicing in your head at the brilliant last-minute plan you came up with in your head in order to avoid anything with Jungkook later. Not that you expect him to do something if he, indeed, sees you – you doubt he even will, given that the hall is huge, and you are planning to sit all the way back – but the mask is just a precautionary measure so there are less chances of him recognizing you or anything crazy like that.

Together, Sol and you ride the elevator down to the 12th floor and unsurprisingly, a lot of the company's employees are already there, finding their seats, chitchats heard across the hall.

"Sol, __!" Joonhwi, one of your co-junior accountants and also a friend, calls out to you both, separating himself from the other accountants and heading to your direction. "You're sick?" He asks as soon as he sees your face covered with the mask.

"A little." You reply.

Joonhwi nods his head and then say, "I thought you girls were planning to ditch the ceremony."

"I'll do anything to not see your face but then again we work together so I have no choice." Sol snarkily remarks.

"Sol, can you please refrain from professing your love to me with all these people around?" Joonhwi retorts back, smarmy and teasing, ever the expert on how to get on Sol's nerves.

"__, can you get this khia away from me?"

You laugh at both of their exchange, shaking your head at their silly antics. You don't know if Sol is just... emotionally constipated, but damn, she sure is clueless as hell about Joonhwi's feelings. It seems like everybody from the accounting department knows except for her.

Shaking your head, you go straight to the seats available with Joonhwi and Sol sitting on opposite sides of you.

"Anyway, I heard they're appointing Mr. Jeon's son." Joonhwi suddenly say.

Now that makes you squirm.

"Really?" You utter, just to give them a reaction.

Sol looks at you weird. "I thought everybody knew that?"

"Well, there are lots of Jeons in Korea..." you tell her, earning a laugh from Joonhwi which makes Sol frown.

"A man is not allowed to laugh in my vicinity, Joonhwi, shut up," she says rolling her eyes. Her tone shifts when she speaks to you though, suddenly sounding more gossip-y as she shows you a picture on her phone. "Look at the material, though,"

You look at the photo of a man who very much has the same and exact coloring of the one and only Jeon Jungkook you know and you have to swallow the lump in your throat.

"I mean, I've always thought Mr. Jeon was a DILF but his son is – damn." She adds, zooming in on Jungkook's professional head shot.

You and Joonhwi both give her the stinky eye.

"Have some class." you tell her, earning a laugh from both of them.

"For the record, you agreed to that before." Sol points out, referring to that dinner you three had at a barbecue house awhile ago. For the record, though, you were both drunk and Joonhwi had to haul Sol's ass back to her place and call Jimin to get you to yours.

"I refuse to acknowledge anything I've ever said when I was drunk."

"Okay but is anybody getting the urge to get transferred to the IT department expeditiously?" Sol jokes, obviously swooning over Jungkook.

Joonhwi snorts. "The CTO doesn't even go there."

"Killjoy much?" Sol frowns at him. "He'd visit, though. Imagine the eye candy."

You eye her in a teasing manner, "You have enough candy on your plate, Sol." And then you subtly look over Joonhwi.

Joonhwi himself doesn't seem to expect the insinuation, but nonetheless you know that he got the message of you implying he's good-looking and if Sol is looking for that, he's just there. That is why he suddenly loses his smirk and rests his back on the seat, crossing his arms as he retires himself from the conversation, obviously dodging your teasing.

Psh. Emotionally constipated co-worker number two.

"What the hell does that mean?" Sol asks, but she can't get an answer as the ceremony begins.

"Good morning, everyone. Today marks a significant moment as we gather to appoint our interim Chief Technology Officer," The host starts the introduction, "We are here to acknowledge the pivotal role of the CTO in our company's journey to ensure continuity in our innovation efforts. It is with great pleasure that I introduce Mr. Jeon Jungkook, our interim CTO, who has been selected to step into the position."

And there is him, in his grey suit that you've seen him in earlier. He's wearing his glasses as well, the one that has the thinner frame. You notice he switches between two kinds; he wears the thick-framed one off work and the thin-framed one during work, like right now. 

Jungkook smiles at the applause that reverberates all over the hall. There are LED screens that hang on both sides of the room and you can see his face clearly there. Sol gushes over how good he looks.

"Jesus, wow..." Sol whispers to herself, and you're sure she did not mean for you to hear that, so you try not to acknowledge it because deep inside, you agree with her. That's exactly your reaction when you saw him for the first time in the stairs of your apartment complex – and he didn't even clean up in his suit that time.

Jungkook stands on the podium with an easy-going smile on his face, his aura screaming confidence. He looks so sure of himself, like he's born to actually do this.

"Thank you, Mr. Park. Good day to all. I am deeply honored and humbled to accept the role of Chief Technology Officer at Blue Nexus Incorporation. As we navigate this interim period, my commitment is to uphold..."

You watch as he starts his speech, noting how well he speaks. You aren't a stranger to how people have different personalities when they are in and off work, but it's almost disorienting to see Jungkook going all professional, his voice soft but edgy at the same time, just enough for you and everyone to recognize a bit of authority in there.

He looks over the crowd, and for a brief second, you feel as if his eyes glossed over you far longer than he had other parts in the room.

But that thought dies down as quickly when he immediately goes back to speaking, and you're sure you just imagined it.

You're in the middle of your night routine when your phone suddenly dings.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:44pm]: just remembered we never really got around to that boxing machine, did we

Right. Today is Friday and you are supposed to go that boxing machine to determine if he's gonna supply your daily boba or if you're coming over to his place so he can cook you both a meal.

But that deal was made days ago when you still were clueless about his identity, and admittedly, you'd say that right now, you're doing anything to avoid him.

Scrolling through your message thread and seeing Jungkook's texts since that morning being left on read makes you feel bad. You know it isn't fair. It isn't nice to just suddenly go leave people dry like that, especially Jungkook who has been so strangely non-confronting about your sudden weird behavior.

It takes you a few minutes to give him a reply due to you erasing and retyping your message repeatedly.

You [10:47pm]: sorry ive been busy the whole day with work ):

Was what you lamely came up with. You couldn't have done better than that, to be honest with yourself.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:47pm]: I see Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:48pm]: so raincheck tonight?

You [10:48]: sorryyyy for cancellig im just feeling a little under the weather

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:49pm]: ohhhh ok ok sorry for texting late

You [10:50pm]: asbdbsfjshf its fine!!!!!!!!

Maybe you didn't think it through, but you find yourself typing the next message and hitting send way too quickly.

You [10:51pm]: maybe tomorrow?

You're thinking about taking it back, but Jungkook has already replied.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:51pm]: ok. I'll see you tomorrow 😊

Pursing your lips, you wonder what he's doing tonight.

Is he working? Maybe some take-home paperworks? What do CTOs even do? He must be really busy... though you think it has to be otherwise since he had the time to text you.

You stand up from the chair of your vanity table, patting your hair one last time and jumping to your bed, ready to overthink some more then sleep when an idea suddenly pops up into your head the moment your eyes lay on your phone.

Making yourself comfortable on your mattress, you pick up the phone from your night stand and unlock it, your fingers making quick work of opening the Instagram app and typing jeonjungkook on the search bar.

The results show you a few accounts that resemble the username you looked up, but as you check each one, none of them seems to belong to the man you're looking for. So, you try a few varieties: jungkook, jungkookjeon, jeon... JK?... but then you're sure you've milked out the last of your brain juice trying to come up with a possible username for him but to no avail.

Jimin must be following him, you think to yourself. Since Jimin is a snob on his verified and public account and isn't following anybody there, you go straight to his private account to try and find a Jungkook in his following but again – you guessed it, failed search.

"Does he not have an IG?" you ask yourself, feeling quite exhilarated.

You think about Twitter, but remembering Jungkook's face makes you share your head in disagreement with yourself. There is no way he has Twitter. That guy looks terminally offline and doesn't have the face of someone who likes tweeting in his leisure time.

You'd say it was curiosity rather than desperation when you decided to install Facebook and hoped to see some of him there. You did have little hopes though, as you started typing his name, thinking there was no way you'd see him on the app because, who even uses Facebook nowadays except moms and dads and grandparents?

But then as you jokingly type his name and enter it on the search bar, a few tagged pictures of him show up.

The first one is posted by a Jeon Junghyun, his brother, and the picture is from 2017. Said picture is of Jungkook at the airport sitting on his luggage, and the caption reads as: good luck in college brother.

You stare at the picture, noting how young he looked in it and suddenly feel disoriented when you see his arms with no ink around them. They're so bare, and he definitely looked more lean, not like the muscly guy you know him as now. He was starting college here, so he must've been only 19 in the photo... meaning he got his tattoos in the States while he was in college or maybe even later than that?

You click on Jungkook's page, the one that his brother tagged in the photo, but all you see is the default Facebook profile picture and a locked account.

Feeling disappointed at that, you go back to his brother's page and check it out, throwing all your shame away as you look through his photos.

He must've limited his audience since the public posts are all outdated, but there are a few pictures in which Jungkook is in them, as well as other recurring people who seem to be their parents.

There's a recent family picture of them in the Eiffel Tower – uploaded in 2022 – all four of them.

As you see Mr. Jeon, the CEO of your company, with his family, it's hard not to feel... whiplashed, for the lack of better term. From the looks of it, they seem to be... close? For the record, Jimin does not have any casual pictures of him with his parents, and as far as you know, they never went out on trips together – just galas and all that socialite events. You know they are only mere pictures, not solid enough to assume what Jungkook's relationship is with his family, but you're starting to think maybe it's a good one.

That'll honestly be surprising, given that every wealthy family you know has dysfunctional relationships. Nevertheless, it will be quite... adorable if what you think is true.

"Oh my god," you say, disbelieving, as you recognize Jimin in one of Junghyun's public photos while scrolling through more.

It's an event of some sort, and how can you not spot Jimin when he looks conspicuous in his orange hair? You remember this being in your sophomore year in college, and how much Jimin actually hates that hair and wants to burn down every picture that reminds him of it.

You snort as you zoom in on Jimin, taking a screenshot of the photo, mindlessly going to your messaging app; ready to send him the photo to poke lighthearted fun, but then you realize—

"Oh, I can't do that."

Jimin will ask you where you got the photo from, and you'll have to tell him that you were cyber stalking his cousin. Then, he'll ask why you were stalking his cousin, and he will find out the very thing you don't want him to find out.

That makes you frown, quick to delete the message you were just about to send and put your phone back to your nightstand.

Well, that ruins fun.

You wish you can tell Jimin or anyone for the matter, but you currently don't feel comfortable about doing that.

Sighing, you look up at your ceiling, then forcefully close your eyes to avoid more thoughts coming into your head.

You start counting sheep until you fall asleep.

There had been a lot of times where you felt like shit about yourself. They happen way too many times that at this point, you'd lost count. It wired you to think that there must be something wrong when a day goes all too well.

But there is no beating the feeling of self-antagonism when you ditch somebody – even if it's for a valid reason.

Sure, you've ditched Jimin a couple of times, and he always makes sure to rub it on your face as much as he can until you pout at him and explain to him that there are just some days you do not feel like going out. Jimin, as your best friend, understands that about you, of course.

A lot of times, though, it's the dates you tend to ditch the most. Three dates – you recall – is the number of times you'd skipped out of, just because you had a panic attack thirty minutes before the meeting that one time and two times for the plain, simple fact that you had a realization that you did not really like the guy you were planning to see.

Shin Taemu, the guy from the IT department asked you out last month for a second date and you texted him a last-minute, half-assed lame excuse about having gotten period cramps. Up to this day, you're still wary about using the IT department's copy room because his texts, since then, have been left unanswered. You saw him awhile ago at the cafeteria, though, and he seemed to be treating you non-differently even after you ghosted him suddenly. 

Recently, you're doing the same thing again to Jungkook.

It isn't dating, of course – just the whole ditching thing.

You feel terrible for canceling on him again on Saturday when you just told him Friday night that you would go to that boxing machine. He had texted you a simple "we still on?" with a smiley emoji that gave you the creeps (because that smiley emoji does not ever mean the person is smiling behind it – knowing Jungkook though, it's probably not the case, and you're just overthinking it). You've left that text to rot until Sunday morning, and only picked it up later during the night, telling him you were "sorry I just saw this now! I was swamped with work stuff" even though you've never brought paperworks at home in your whole career and you were just binging The X-Files, bashing those two idiotic emotionally constipated FBI agents when you are quite one, yourself.

Sometimes, you fear you're no better than a man. Jimin will willingly knock your head on a door to get you to your senses and tell you all the things about why you should never compare yourself to them – but there are times like these when your shortcomings – specifically your lack of proficiency in communication – mirror that of a man's, and you hate every single second of it.

Until then, you dreaded for Monday to come.

But it's ultimately inevitable 

And when you wake up from your sleep, it's Monday, and you have to go to work whether you like it or not.

And oh, to add, Jungkook hasn't replied to your message. Which – okay – ouch. But you're not supposed to be hurt by it; if anything, you kind of deserve it after ditching him so many times. He isn't an idiot, and you're sure he knows you lied... you're just thankful that he's not saying anything if he does know, indeed.

You have thought things over in the shower this morning, though.

If Jungkook is three eggs in your basket, why will it matter? So, what's the big deal if he is Jimin's cousin and that he works at the same company and lives in the same apartment complex?

You finally admit that those things matter to you initially because... you have a crush on him. If you didn't, you'll give fuck-all if he's related to your best friend. You won't care at all if he's your boss because you don't have to worry about fantasizing about him.

But the thing is, you do have some sort of romantic feelings for him, and that is why those things moved you in a way that makes you feel and act a little weird around him.

And now there's this feeling of guilt that has overtaken your entire system. Because if you just see Jungkook platonically, these things won't happen. And you hate it, because he's genuinely a good friend. Someone who may want a friend in you too, but you are ruining it all because you have trivial feelings for him.

Absolutely ridiculous.

But now that those realizations have become clear in your head, you've made up your mind by thinking that those eggs don't matter.

It doesn't matter that he's Jimin's cousin, doesn't matter that he's an executive. You are his friend, and it's was okay to have friends that are your other friend's relative and friends who are your boss.

Of course, it's still awkward to think about him catching you in your home clothes but on a more serious note, your crush will never see the light of the day and even if it does, there's no way Jungkook will accept it because guys like him never settle with people like you. And you don't even mean that in a self-deprecating way, not at all! You are just fully aware of the practical world you live in and know that the vast disparity of your economic status will never work, especially with the kind of family he was born into.

With that said, you are ready for things to be back the way they were. No more pussyfooting in the office in fear that you'll bump into him, no more canceling on his innocent invitations to dinner, no more pining over him secretly and putting malice over everything that he does because you're going to be a renewed person now.

You're ready to take on the big shoes and be matured enough to address his questions if ever he has one.

So, you enter the elevator of Blue Nexus Inc. with a sort of spirit that you're sure will be hard to take down, creating pictures in your head that depict a smooth-sailing conversation with Jungkook where you're ideally going to be cool in it and not at all panic-y.

It's alright. Nothing is going to change—

Your thoughts are disrupted when somebody enters the elevator and the people in it suddenly start bowing their heads, a series of greetings reverberating in the confined space.

Fuck.

"Good morning, Mr. Jeon."

"Greetings, Mr. Jeon."

"Mr. Jeon."

Your eyes widen when you see Jungkook walking in with his black suit and sleek black hair, his eyeglasses sitting on his nose.

Okay, so nevermind the illusion that you're going to be cool now – you're absolutely panicking in your position!

Thank fucking god you're at the back with two persons in front of you, hoping they are enough to at least cover your frame as Jungkook stands in front after greeting back the employees inside.

Oh my god. Fuck me.

You tilt your head to the side with a wince on your face, sneakily raising your arm over your head to take your hairclip off so your hair fans your face. It is a poor attempt at covering yourself lest Jungkook suddenly turns around and recognizes you as a result.

But in that moment, you must look stupid as hell that the guy beside you looks at you weird.

You stand upright, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He just snubs you.

That makes you roll your eyes.

You go back to staring at Jungkook's back agonizing the thought that you really aren't ready at all to confront him. You thought about it all morning, but the moment he got here, all those ideations of you being cool around him from thereon are suddenly thrown out the building.

A few seconds after, somebody drops off at the 13th floor, and it starts to make you feel nervous.

What if more people start going out and then you'll be left alone with Jungkook? You intended to go to the 16th floor where your office is... Jungkook is – wait, where is his floor? You actually have no idea. But you are certain it's floors above you. Oh god! How can you possibly move past him without him recognizing you? Shit. You didn't think about that.

Now, you're starting to lose your bottle, your head not able to form ideas to get through him. The elevator is small! And people are starting to head out...

You look at the position indicator of the elevator, telling you that you're going way up to the 15th floor. A few seconds after and it dings, the elevator door opening. The guy in front of you heads way out, and you can see Jungkook still on his spot.

You find yourself not being able to move, completely stoned in your position.

You sure as hell aren't going out unless he does first! That's your solution. If he's located at the topmost floor, you're going to wait until then. You're just going to ride the elevator down again.

But what you don't see coming is Jungkook suddenly moving to head outside the elevator.

Looking at the indicator once again, you confirm if he really is going to the 15th floor.

The door already closed by the time Jungkook is finally out, which eases your nerves. You're way too relieved to forget thinking about why he's in the 15th floor.

You stop at the 16th with a smile on your face, feeling like you just got away with murder. You've never done it – get away with murder – but that's exactly how you feel.

On your way to the office, your phone vibrates from the pocket of your trousers.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [8:56am]: Correct me if I'm wrong but I think I just saw you at the elevator today

You thought of ways to dodge his bullet, thought about denying his claim and telling him that he must've seen somebody else because you work all the way across town and him seeing you would've been impossible.

But you know the attempts will be futile.

If anything, though, you take it as a sign to finally make things right.

Avoiding Jungkook will never be efficient. In order to be successful in that regard, you'll have to hand in your resignation or move out of your apartment completely and you can't do that.

Besides, for what it's worth, you kind of miss hanging out with him and if you were to continue hiding from him, you will have to say goodbye to having him around at all.

The moment you got off work today, you think of plans to talk to him and maybe, just maybe, invite him for dinner – to, hopefully, make up for all the times you've bailed on him.

With a tail tucked between your legs, you stand apprehensively in front of the door of his unit, still unsure about your plans but doing it nonetheless. There's no going back now.

You ring the doorbell, taking your hand back quickly as if you just got electrocuted by it.

Please don't answer. Please don't be home. Please don't answer—

And there he goes, in his plain white shirt and grey sweats, hair wet from his previous shower – you assume. He's still drying his hair with a towel when he opens the door, but his ministrations stop the moment he lays his eyes on you.

You just give him an awkward smile that probably look more like a grimace.

"Hi."

The surprise is evident on Jungkook's face. Regardless, he is quick to get over it and gives you a big grin instead. An expression you did not expect to get.

"__, hey," Jungkook greets, placing the towel around his neck and letting go of his doorknob. "What brings you here?"

You balance your weight on your other side and purse your lips in a thin line.

"Do you, uh, wanna grab dinner?" You ask right away, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jungkook's smile somehow grows wider at your question, and you don't know what to feel. If he's petty, he'll reject your invitation but with the look on his face right now, he doesn't seem to have the intention to do so. At least you hope so. It will be so embarrassing for you to have come all the way to his place instead of just asking him through text.

He was about to answer when somebody suddenly approaches the door.

"Jeon Jungkook?" The guy asks, and you immediately shot your eyes to look at him. With his printed shirt that reads a famous food delivery brand and his hands carrying bags of what you assumed take-out food, you figure what he's here for. "Here's your order, sir."

Embarrassed, you scoot to the side to give way to the food delivery guy and let him extend the bags towards Jungkook who grabs his wallet from the pocket of his sweats to pay for the food, thanking the man in the process.

He already has plans for tonight, you realize. Your invitation to dinner is futile because he already bought take-out.

The food delivery guy gave you a look before he took off in which you returned a timid smile for. And then, you turn around to look at Jungkook again.

"Nevermind, don't answer my question." You say, referring to your invitation prior to the arrival of his food delivery. "Uhm, bye. Good night."

You were just turning your heels to go the other way around when Jungkook suddenly speaks.

"Wait, don't go yet," Jungkook steps to the side and inserts his wallet back into his pants. He raises the bags of take-out and arches his brow towards your way, "Do you like Thai?"

"I do." You reply, not really understanding where he's getting at first.

Jungkook smiles. "Good. Do you wanna come inside?"

When you realize what he just said, you shake your head, "Oh, no, no. We could grab dinner outside tomorrow if you're free."

"This is enough for two?"

He's inviting you to his place. Is he insane?

You shake your head once again. "No, Jungkook, I really don't want to impose on—"

Jungkook cut you off with a hearty laugh.

"__, you won't be imposing. Come on, I bet you haven't had dinner yet either." When you don't answer, he insists again, "I think I have Thai tea around here somewhere."

You narrow your eyes at him.

"You think I'll go inside just 'cause you have Thai tea?" you say, raising your brow at him, challenging Jungkook to say something to that. He shrugs with a smile of amusement. Then you break your demeanor and sigh. "You're actually right. I can probably be bribed with daily boba supply."

Jungkook laughs at your absurd claim.

"No matter what's on the line?"

"Yeah," Then you decide to joke a little, "If you're the one on the line."

His laughter only becomes louder, and you shake your head at him because you genuinely wonder why he laughs so much at your nonsensical jokes. You would consider yourself funny but not that funny.

But this is good. Joking is good. This dynamic is surely better than you avoiding him.

"You're so..." Jungkook stops to look at you and you stare back at him. That moment stretches into a minute until you feel the hair on your nape stand.

It's the night air, and not at all the almost intimate way he looked into your eyes.

That's what you'll tell yourself tonight.

"I'm so what?" You decide to break the silence, seemingly snapping Jungkook out of the trance he's put himself in awhile ago.

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Okay, now you're just making me curious."

"It's nothing."

"Okay, I'm gonna let it pass this time..." you say, eliciting a low chuckle from him.

He must realize that you've both been standing on his porch for a while now.

"Come," he says, gesturing inside his place.

Your steps are a bit hesitant as you follow him inside. But nonetheless, you both get in, Jungkook offering you a pair of home slipper that are almost twice as big as your feet as he locks the door.

When you let your eyes wander, you're more than surprised to see the state of the interior.

Jungkook's place is surprisingly... clean.

Sure, it must be because there aren't any decorations or much furniture yet, but from your experiences with men, the one thing they have in common is that they are messy. It's almost impossible to not see clothes strewn all over their places or food wrappings on any surface at a corner, but Jungkook's is spotless.

Except maybe for the few boxes that stand beside the door of the room all the way across the room which you assume is his bedroom, but other than that, there's no indicator that a man is residing inside. Admittedly, it's even cleaner than your own.

"Sorry, it's a little messy. I haven't unpacked all of my stuff. Got busy."

He seems to notice you eyeing the aforementioned boxes, and hearing his words, you shake your head.

"Oh, no, trust me. This is the cleanest place I've ever seen." You say truthfully.

"Thanks." Jungkook responds with a smile.

His apartment, like yours, has an open layout so from where you are in the living room, you can see him putting the bags on the kitchen counter, unloading them and starting to transfer some of them into his own plates.

You approach his direction to find yourself useful.

"Is it okay if we eat at the coffee table? My table set hasn't arrived yet..." he rubbs the back of his head, a sheepish smile painting his face.

"It's fine."

His coffee table is wide enough for all the food to fit, anyway. That's what you thought when you bring all the food to the living room, sitting on the floorboards opposite of him.

Before you start dinner, Jungkook asks if you want to watch something on the TV.

"It's like a jumbotron." Is your throw-away comment when he turns on his huge ass TV. It's genuinely so big you aren't even exaggerating. You are not that good with estimation but the screen is probably the same height as you...

"What?" Jungkook chuckles, looking at you all confused.

"Nothing. Just that your TV is so big."

"Yeah? I wanted to buy this one for so long and I got really lucky to get it on sale here. I have the Criterion channel so I've been wanting to watch stuff with an OLED screen—" he cuts himself off and looks at you with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry."

You look away before you can go on a spiral about how cute he looked with a proud smile on his face while he was going off about how he got his jumbotron on sale. He was geeking out about a freaking TV. But you guess it makes sense for a tech guy like him.

"Uh, what do you want to watch?" He asks, going through his streaming services.

The big TV and the streaming services just click so much in the context of him. You, in contrast, cannot relate. After forgetting to unsubscribe to Netflix a few months ago, it automatically stole the thirteen thousand won from your account, and since then, you're more than traumatized to pay for any streaming services until today. Pirating is bad but so is capitalism.

"Anything is fine."

"Okay."

You really couldn't have cared less about what he's going to click on, but National Geographic pops up on his big screen and you think he must be joking but he starts tuning in with genuine interest.

Oh. Wow.

He's just a big nerd trapped in a hot human body, huh?

How cute. And how unbelievably hot to discover this about him.

After a few minutes into the documentary, it turns out that whales are interesting to a certain degree. Sure, Jungkook's huge ass screen made it a little funny because the pictures are too big, but they did pique your interest a little, especially when Jungkook would add in a little of his own knowledge about them. When you asked him about the weird little stick thing on their mouth, he told you that they were tusks and only male narwhals had them, and that they used it as some sort of sensory tool. He admitted he hyperfixated on whales for a while when he saw them first on Discovery Channel as a kid.

You didn't even have to pretend to be engrossed, you were just in genuine awe of his interests and how enthusiastic he was about sharing them.

Food is starting to run out, making you realize that it's been awhile since you've eaten Thai food and you should probably eat them once again tomorrow.

You're just about to ask Jungkook which restaurant he got it from when he beats you to speaking first.

"You're still in your work clothes."

You stop.

"Yeah..."

And then you're reminded of why you're here in the first place.

It isn't for the whales or for Thai food, that's for sure.

You haven't changed out of your work clothes, indeed, since you planned going out for dinner in hopes of talking to Jungkook while ago. The night is going so well so far that you actually forgot about that. But then since he already cocked the gun, might as well just pull the trigger and get it over with.

You look at him, an uneasy feeling settling in your nerves.

"So... about your text earlier."

There is a hint of a smile on Jungkook's lips when he nods his head.

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't me." You say, trying to look for a reaction, trying to see if he'll insist or anything.

But Jungkook just nods his head again.

"I see."

He does not seem to see, though, and you know right then and there that your cover is finally and officially blown.

"Okay, I lied. That was me." You take back your words, jutting your bottom lip out when you add, "Turns out we work at the same company. And that you're apparently my boss."

"And you're my cousin's girlfriend."

You gasp audibly.

So he knows you were at that party! How? And what? He thought you were Jimin's girlfriend for real? Wait, does he not know it was all Jimin's ruse?

"How did you know that?"

"They mentioned Jimin's girlfriend was in the bathroom when I arrived. I asked Jimin about it and he told me her name was __."

You would face-palm yourself if Jungkook wasn't present.

Ugh. Of course, Jimin doesn't know.

"Well, okay, just so you know, I was a paid actress." You tell Jungkook, which earns you a laugh from him. Then you cover your mouth, realizing you shouldn't have said that. "Oh—uhm, do you know...?" You trail off, looking at him expectantly and hoping he knows what you meant.

You swear you remember Jimin telling you that Jungkook knows about him being gay, but now you are second-guessing yourself and you will be in trouble if you did slip up.

Thankfully, Jungkook nods, seemingly understanding where you're getting at.

"Don't worry, I know." You heave a sigh of relief at his verbal confirmation. Jungkook takes the tom yum goong and started peeling the shrimp from the bowl, continuing to say, "And Jimin brings a fake date to every family gathering, so I knew right away he was lying about dating somebody," Jungkook chuckles, and as if an afterthought, he adds, "I wish I could've seen you act. You two left so early."

Well... you did play a role in that, you think. But you can't tell him you purposefully didn't go back to the table that night because you saw him.

"Oh, Jimin had to send Joon off at the airport." You say, which is actually true. For a change.

He nods. "His boyfriend, yeah... did he go to Italy with him?"

You wonder how he knows about the Italy thing. Jimin, probably. They're close after all—

"Namjoon's a close friend as well." Jungkook adds, as if having read your thoughts.

"Ah," you nod, not surprised at all about their apparent link.

Wealthy people do have a tiny world.

"Jimin hasn't actually contacted me yet since that night."

It has been a few days, and you're starting to think he's dead or something. Your calls go straight to voicemail and your messages do not send. You've sent him a few on social media as well but it seems like he hasn't been online at all.

"I'm worried about him. Has Namjoon said anything?" You look at Jungkook, hoping he'll say yes.

But he shakes his head instead.

"I wouldn't be worried, though. I think they're together."

"In Italy?"

"Yeah."

You won't be surprised if that's the case. Jimin is the king of spontaneity and if he did fly off to another country abruptly with his boyfriend, you won't question it.

You do miss him though and you're gonna make sure to make him feel bad for not telling you anything soon.

"You're right." You sigh.

Jungkook has been peeling shrimp for awhile now, setting them aside in a small bowl. You think he's gonna eat it himself, but you're surprised when he slides off the bowl to your direction.

"There. I noticed you weren't eating the tom yum. You don't like it?" Jungkook asks, smiling at you.

You can't help it; blood rushes to your cheeks at the realization that he just peeled shrimps for you.

Is this normal for him? Like, does he just go around and do things like these for friends?

You will scream in your bathroom later when you get home.

"Oh, no, uh... I'm actually allergic to shrimp." You give him a tight-lipped smile.

You feel bad at the way Jungkook's expression drops as soon as you said that.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't know," He takes the small bowl quickly and looks at you apologetically.

"No, it's fine! I didn't tell you either."

"I'm really sorry. I should've asked first."

"Jungkook," you chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you, anyway."

"I could've done serious damage to you, huh?"

"Yeah, you'd have to tell Jimin you killed me because you fed me shrimp."

"Don't say that," Jungkook laughs. "How long are you friends now, by the way?"

You nip on your chopsticks, answering him.

"We've been friends since college... so almost ten years."

"That's really nice."

And then you remember to ask, "Did you tell him?"

"What?"

"That you know me?"

"No. Not yet, at least. Didn't have the chance." Jungkook proceeds to eat the shrimp himself and you have to keep yourself from letting out a breath of relief at his answer. "Did you tell him?"

"No. Uh— I know this is weird. But... can you not tell him?" You ask. Jungkook looks at you for a bit, studying your face. You clear your throat when seconds passed and he still hasn't said anything. "It's just that I want to tell him on my own time." You decide to add.

"Okay." He says after a while, smiling.

Thank god he doesn't ask any more questions.

"Thanks."

And now there's another elephant in the room that you still need to address.

A bit hesitant, you open with, "Did you uhm..." You think about how to word it, but then you think, fuck it. "Did you know by that time at the party that I work at Blue Nexus?"

Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, I saw you at the company and only put two and two together."

Your brows furrow. "When?"

"Uh... earlier this morning."

"Oh. Yeah..."

You don't know exactly why, but you feel a tinge of disappointment that he meant earlier. You really thought he recognized you at the ceremony.

But then you shake the feeling off and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "Why didn't you tell me about the party, then?"

"Why, did you see me there?"

You shut your mouth. Right. You're supposed to pretend you didn't seen him that time.

"No." You lie.

"So I thought it didn't matter... though I was pretty surprised when I saw you today."

"Ugh, I thought I hid myself pretty well." You lament dramatically, embarrassed that you really thought covering your face with your hair would do you any good.

"Nah," Jungkook shakes his head while laughing at your misery, "I thought, "who is this five-foot woman hiding in the back","

"Wow." You gasp, not believing his audacity. But you're also thankful that he makes talking to him so easy. The way your conversations goes from funny to serious is so seamless, all because Jungkook knows exactly how to turn the wheels around.

"Kidding. I actually recognized you by your blouse..." he gestures at your baby blue polo sleeves, making you furrow your brows, not quite sure how he meant. But then, he continues, "Did the ink ever come off?"

Oh. Right! He had seen you wear the blouse before and even heard you tell him the story about how the jammed printer caused a blot of ink to stain your cuff.

You're surprised he even remembers that. It seems so long ago.

Raising your arm to examine the cuff area of your blouse, you look at it with small amusement.

"Yeah, it did, actually."

"How did you do it?"

You deadpan, "You're not asking me how I do my laundry, Jungkook."

"Hey, I love doing laundry," You raise your brow, not believing him, but Jungkook insists. "No, I really do."

"Okay." You nod, chuckling because he really seems way too eager to prove to you that he loves doing laundry.

What you've found out about him so far is so... mesmerizing, to say the least. With how he looks like – you meant, the tattoos and the body – you would most likely assume he likes guy stuff. You know, big macho man stuff like that. But turns out, he's just a guy who likes big TVs and NatGeo and... laundry.

He's such a fascinating person.

"I'm also not your boss." Jungkook suddenly says, making you look up at him.

"Well, you're CTO, you technically are." You point out.

"Technically, yes. But I don't oversee the accounting department, so you're not really working for me, which means I'm not your boss."

The mental gymnastics make you frown but you get his point.

"Okay, that's true. But still... your father is Mr. Jeon."

"Would you believe me if I denied that?" He jokes, the tilt in his voice telling you he is.

"You kind of look the same, so I probably wouldn't believe you."

"Really? A lot of people say I look more like my mother..."

You've seen the pictures. It's more of a split, really. But you can't tell him that obviously.

Silence sits in his living room for a while, the NatGeo narrator serving as background noise at this point.

You drop your chopsticks down and sigh. Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows, worried about your sudden seriousness.

"So, you're not like weirded out about this whole thing?" You ask him straight to the point.

Joking is good, as you said. And this night is going better than you thought. But it feels like you are just glossing over the facts, and you need to address it with him lest it becomes a problem in the future. You don't know how exactly they are going to be; you just have a feeling in your heart that they are going to.

"The what?" Jungkook says, looking genuinely confused, as if he doesn't know what your deal is.

"The I'm-your-cousin's-best-friend? And the fact that you're an executive at the company I work at and we live in the same building?" You lay out, sounding exasperated now that you're taking it all out.

Jungkook stares at you for a bit.

"Why would that weird me out?"

He isn't being dense, you can see that. He's just plain confused.

You sigh once again. Seems like you've been doing a lot of that these past few days.

"Because it's just... too many eggs in the basket."

Jungkook chuckles, wiping his hands with a tissue. "Isn't it good you have many eggs in the basket?"

You glare at him, and it makes him raise his hands as a peace offering.

"It's bad because..."

"... because?" Jungkook, now with his hands clean, props an elbow on the coffee table, looking right into your eyes as he leans closer to your direction.

You look away.

"Because it means I can't hang out with you anymore."

When you look at him again, the smile is wiped off his face, suddenly exchanged with a frown.

"Why?"

"Because again, it's too many eggs in the basket and—" Running out with metaphors, you say the first thing that was off the top of your head, "That makes you my uncle."

Jungkook's jaw drops a bit.

"Your thought process really amazes me."

You grimace, already expecting that. "Thanks, I get that a lot."

"No, it's really... interesting."

He doesn't look judgmental at all, just full of genuine awe, but you're eager to come to your own defense and so you say, "You don't get it? It's like—" You fling your hands around, trying to explain what you just said. "You don't have a close relationship with your uncle, right? 'Cause it's awkward. When you're with them it's like being with your boss, which means you can't be friends with them 'cause, again, it's awkward."

Jungkook still looks like he doesn't know what the hell you're talking about, but he nods his head, nonetheless.

"Okay... but I have a very close relationship with the CEO..."

You pout. "That's not what I meant."

And when he chuckles at that, you know he's fucking with you and understand exactly what you were trying to say; fooling around as if you aren't having an internal crisis.

Jungkook must've seen how you're genuinely not finding anything funny and stops.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me the past few days?" He raises his brow, but his voice is gentle as he speaks.

You didn't think he'd confront you about that, but you decide to look away when you try to lie as an answer.

"No...?"

Jungkook only chuckle at your indignation.

"Okay, okay, let's divide and conquer, yeah?" He smiles at you. Warm and soft. "First, you're Jimin's best friend, what's the issue? It just means you must be a good person to hang around with because you're friends with the person I'm close to. Second, I'm not your boss, will you please stop saying that? And third, we're neighbors... so what? We just happened to rent in the same building. No big deal."

Your frown just gets deeper at what he said because... he's right. So right.

You overreacted the whole time you tried to hide from him.

With nothing else to add, you weakly ask, "Okay but... can you fire me?"

In your head, it's a relevant question. You don't know how the chain of command worked at the company. He's an executive which probably means he has firing rights, right? What if he finds you too rude towards him over the past few days that he wants to take your job away from you? Can he fire you because of personal vendetta?

"Asking the important question?" Jungkook teases.

"Damn straight, I am. I mean, I did complain to you about my job before, and it turns out you're one of the executives at the company."

"I can see the wheels in your head turning but sorry to say I'm not actually an official executive. I'm just an interim CTO. And no, I don't have the right to fire you," Jungkook chuckles, seemingly amused at your thoughts. "And you can complain to me about your job all you want."

You send him a suspicious look.

"No, thank you."

"Seriously?" He asks incredulously. "Interim CTO or Jimin's cousin or not, I'm still Jeon Jungkook. Just your plain ol' neighbor."

"You say that but what if I arrive to my desk tomorrow with my things packed because you told Ms. Jung all the things I told you about her?" You squint your eyes at him.

"God, you're unbelievable." Jungkook says in between his laughter.

"Okay, but I wanna ask you something." You say. Jungkook hums. "I'm curious... why here?"

It isn't like your apartment complex is abominable or anything of the sort. When you were still on the look-out of apartments five years ago, here was the only decent one that did not cause you a 3-month pay. It's why you chose it in the first place. The unit is big enough for yourself and it's located at the center of the city, which means that it's near establishments that are relevant to your daily living. The bus station is also just a few minutes walk, and it only takes you an hour commute to get to your company building. It was the best out of all your choices back then.

However, for a guy like Jungkook, you wonder why he isn't at the big shot complexes like in Cheongdam or Hannam. You don't doubt he can afford those.

But Jungkook surprises you with his answer.

"It's cheaper."

You can't help but raise your brow.

"What?" And then as if realizing your look, Jungkook chuckles. "Oh, I see... you think I'm, like, rich?"

You shrug.

Jungkook answer with a simple, "My parents are loaded. And anyway, it's near the company. I also really like it here so far. Hannam felt like prison when I stayed there in my first week. Guards were way too strict."

Nodding, you recall Jimin's stories about that gated community when he himself stayed there for merely three months. It makes sense for it to almost seem like prison, though, given that most people who live there are high profile.

"I commute on my way to work. What about you?"

"I bought a parking spot nearby; it's surprisingly cheap compared to America."

You wouldn't know because you've never had a car in your life. First of all, you refuse to apply for a driving license because you're sure you'll kill yourself on the road. Besides, cars are expensive. You'll stick to your buses and trains all your life even though commuting sucks ass sometimes.

But you nod at Jungkook's words.

Soon, you both engage in more conversation about yourselves until you notice the time.

"It's getting late, I should go. I have work tomorrow." You tell him with a pout, genuinely disappointed about having to go.

Jungkook looks over at the clock hanging on his wall and then turns to you, "We have work tomorrow, you mean."

You blush at that for no reason.

"Well..."

"Okay, I'll walk you to your place."

"What?" You laugh. "That's ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous about it? You're so short, the crickets might attack you." Jungkook says with a serious face.

That makes you frown instantly.

"Ugh, you've got to stop saying that. I'm starting to dislike you."

"Hmm."

Jungkook indeed followed you on your way out, though, but not without you insisting that he didn't need to walk you to your door because it was literally just across his, but Jungkook was persistent and you had no choice but to walk the five steps it took to get in front of your apartment from his own.

He's still laughing when your face is still contorted into an unpleasant expression.

"Okay, good night." You say. You point to his chest absent-mindedly, but you quickly take it back when you feel how hard it is. "A-and stop calling me short, I'm not. The __ karma is real, I have Jimin to prove that."

"Fine, I'll stop." Jungkook smiles, watching as you enter your threshold.

"Good."

You stand on your door, leaning over the frame and not closing it just yet.

Jungkook gives you a heart-warming smile before he says, "See you tomorrow."

And he speaks the words so gently that you feel your cheeks heating once again.

"S-see you as well."

"You look banging in that polo shirt." Jimin says, obviously chatting you up because the moment you accepted his call earlier this morning, you did not hesitate to tell him off about going MIA on you so suddenly.

"It's literally just a plain white polo."

"Okay, and you still look good in it, so..." He shrugs, but you can see the look on his face, sheepish and apologetic.

You scoff.

"You can't compliment me out of sulking. I'm mad at you."

There's a pout that forms on his lips quickly; a tactic so predictable you almost roll your eyes.

"I know... but I told you! Joon and I spent the last week—"

"Fucking each other to Sunday and back, blah blah blah. Still, you could've told me you went to Italy, you slut."

Jimin lets out a loud laugh at your blunt words.

"Slut shaming in the big year of 2028? I thought you were better than that." He shakes his head, pretending to be pointed and curt with the bitchy look on his face. But you know he's just teasing to get you out of your own bitchy mode as well.

It works every time.

You don't fight the way your eyes roll on their own accord as a response this time. Jimin compromises, "Okay, I'm sorry! For not telling. It's just that I've turned off my phone for the past week because I'm sure dad and his secretary are going to blow up my phone— they are, by the way, so cut me some slack."

Forgiveness comes easy when you take into consideration what he's been through for the past few weeks. The spontaneous trip to Italy and him flying along with his boyfriend may come off as immature, but you know deep inside he's just wanting to get away from the reality of his life: which is pretty much toxic family with incredibly high expectations and boring ass management school.

You are certain they are giving him shit, and you don't need to add more to that.

It's 7:20 and you're currently prepping for work. Privacy is almost moot in your friendship with Jimin, so you're quite literally dressing up in front of him on call, sweeping your hair to the side as you pull up your trousers.

"Okay... are you having fun there?" You ask instead.

Jimin smiles a knowing grin. "Babe, I just told you me and my boyfriend are having sex 24/7 in here, I'm having the most fun in my life."

You button your trousers and groan at his words.

"I wish I was also in Italy."

"I mean, you could."

You give him a look.

"And what? Third wheel you and Joon? No thanks."

Jimin just shrugs, the angle of his camera going shaky for a bit as he moves to lay on what you assume is his bed.

"I don't know, girl, maybe you'll find a nice Italian man here."

That earns him a snort from you while you duck to wear your sandals.

"I've long forgotten that fantasy since I was 19."

"You're not a stranger to relapsing..." Jimin clocks and that makes you shoot up straight so he can see the look of incredulity on your face as an immediate reaction to what he just said.

"Rude!"

Jimin just snorts. "Okay but for real, how are things going over there for you?"

You sigh. "Same old, same old. Pretty and single and working a very boring job."

Your best friend can't help but mirror the wince on your face.

"You could change the last two but never the first one, babe. So, you see, you're still miles ahead." He says as a matter of fact, sounding like he's giving out some sort of motivational speech.

"Lucky me," you noted with a straight face. You start rummaging your bag to see if you got everything you need. Then, there's something at the tip of your tongue. Something you've been wanting to open up to him. So, you start by clearing your throat – subtly, you hope.

"But you know, life's pretty... eventful the past few days."

Jimin quirks his eyebrow at that, obviously catching onto what could possibly be a new news.

You bite your lower lip, nibbling on it slightly as you contemplate whether to tell him about what you've been up to.

For some weird reason, you still haven't told him about Jungkook, and it seems like Jungkook has made good on his promise not to tell your best friend because if he did break it, Jimin would be inquiring you all about it now.

You figure now is sort of the perfect time to... maybe tell him.

"Uh, well... not eventful, per se, just a little..." you trailed off, finding a bit of uncertainty in your voice. You see Jimin's face morphing into more of a confused look rather than intrigued as the second passes. Pursing your lips into a thin line, you finish your previous sentence with, "Just a little different, I guess."

"Don't edge me, I swear to god." Jimin threatens playfully, making you chuckle.

"It's not something groundbreaking, okay? It's just the, uh, do you still remember Mr—"

The yawn that Jimin lets out stops you from completing your words, and you remember him mentioning a while ago that it's currently midnight from where he is.

"Ugh," Jimin groans, "Sorry, I slept so late yesterday. Anyway, go on, what were you saying?"

The uncertainty you felt a while ago increases, and you decide that maybe, now is so not the perfect time to bring up Jungkook, his cousin.

So, you shake your head, smiling at him, packing the words of your confession in a box that that you place at the back of your head, ready for unpacking when the time calls for it – which you don't exactly know when.

"Nah, go to sleep. This conversation can wait."

"You're gonna kill me with curiosity."

Rolling your eyes, you make a gesture of shoving him.

"I have to catch up with my bus soon, anyway." You say, dodging his insistence.

"Just tell me pretty please, I won't be able to sleep!" He dramatically says.

You roll your eyes again at the theatrics.

"It's really nothing big."

Well, it is. Sort of. Or maybe it's not, and you're just doing that thing again where you put too much thought over something inconsequential.

You swear you were ready to tell him about Jungkook, having even hyped yourself in the bathroom a few days ago and practicing what you're going to tell Jimin. But as of this moment, right now, it suddenly feels... unimportant. Not in a negative way. Just in a... does-it-really-matter way.

Jimin will find out eventually. But not now when you're not totally ready.

"I know what this is," Jimin suddenly says. At his suspicious tone, your heart starts to pick up the rate of its beat. You can see the way Jimin squints his eyes at you, and you wish he doesn't see the way you're slightly frozen. "You got back with your ex, Hansung."

You hope he sees the disgust on your face the moment he let out the words.

"Oh my god, hell no!" Is your instant response. Just hearing that name again made the hairs on your nape rise. "Jimin, what the fuck."

Jimin rolls his eyes. "You look so nervous, that's how you look like when you're about to tell me you've done something stupid."

Okay, fair. The assumption is coming from a valid basis. It makes you frown at him.

"You're such a bitch." Jimin laughs at the way you deflate. You let out a sign. "It's just... Taemu. From the IT dep."

"That guy?!" He exclaims and quickly covers his mouth. "The cute guy you refused to date a second time... you're finally dating him again?"

"What do you mean, finally?" You narrow your eyes at him, surprise at the positive comment about Taemu. "Jesus, I thought you were with me when I said I found him boring."

"What can I say? He can be cute and boring." He points out, as if he did not talk behind the Taemu's back when you ranted about the guy to him.

"You're fake as hell." You laugh, unbelieving.

Jimin joins your laughter, finding his sudden switch up funny as well.

"But you're, for real, dating him again? It means he still likes you?" He asks, obviously intrigued at this newfound information.

Unfortunately, it's a bit of a lie. You feel bad, but it is a great scapegoat to dodge the bullet of the conversation about Jungkook.

"I don't know... we're talking."

Which, for once, is true. Taemu and you did not exactly end on a good note (courtesy to you, boo), but you work in the same company, after all. There are times in the company's cafeteria where you bump into him, and it would have felt weird if you just snub him and act like you did not have an acquaintanceship before he asked you out to a date. Taemu's ultimately still your friend, and there are no hard feelings on his part, you can confidently say. He's... nice, you guess. Somehow of an afterthought. You're starting to think you completely misjudged him on your first date.

You take a quick trip to the fridge to grab a glass of cold water since Jimin is on loudspeaker anyway.

"That reminds me," Jimin suddenly quips. You hum to acknowledge him. "My cousin now works at your company, right? You still remember Jungkook? Have you met him yet?"

You couldn't help it; the water splattered all over the place when you heard Jungkook's name from his mouth.

Jimin quickly asks you a series of "are you okays" and you respond with a "yes" that's interrupted with a cough every time; a weak nod with a raised hand, telling him not to worry.

"Water just got in the wrong track." You reason, coughing and slapping your chest to regain your breathing. When you see wet spots on your shirt, you let out a whiny groan.

"You're so jumpy today. You're sure you're fine?" Jimin checks once again, and you have to bite your tongue to not show the way you froze a little at his observation.

You nod at him, showing him an expression that hopefully conveys he's the one being weird and definitely not you.

"Yeah, it's fine." You look down on your shirt. You're debating whether to stick with it and just let it dry in the bus later or completely change out of it. "But uh, your cousin! I did see him. We had a ceremony a week ago."

You would've said that with a smile, but Jimin knows you too well that he'll surely know it's fake. So, you spoke with an almost straight face. What Jimin says next surprises you a bit, though.

"I hope you meet each other," Jimin's excitement is visible on his face. "It'd be kinda fun; my closest cousin and my best friend... imagine that? I think you'll like each other." He seems to be so geeked about the idea that even when you're internally having a crisis, you can't help but find it cute. But then his smile gets wiped off his lips just as quickly as it showed. "It'd be awkward, though. He's, kinda like, your boss, right?"

You suddenly remember Jungkook's words about him not being your boss. It makes your lips curl, but you have to shake off the thought.

You give him a hesitant look.

"Well, not really, but he's an executive. So... it would be awkward. I guess."

Jimin nods, agreeing with you.

"It's crazy though, I never thought he'd be working at uncle's company so soon..." He trails off and he looks deep in thought, like his words were just supposed to be inner thoughts and you're not supposed to hear them. But he shakes his head after a while, moving on to another subject that makes you quietly sigh in relief. "Anyway, I'm sure I'm keeping you up. I'll sleep and you better tell me all about Kang Taemu when I wake up, okay?"

You chuckle, shaking your head at the threatening tone of his voice.

"I will. When will you come home, anyway?"

He groans, obviously not wanting to discuss home for the reasons you know exactly what. He confirms your assumption by telling so.

"Honestly, I don't know. I'm trying to avoid responsibilities as much as I can. God, I wish you were also here. There's a bar Joon and I discovered that sells these insane bottomless mimosas."

Before you could reply, Jimin goes off the frame suddenly, but the lower part of his face makes you see the way his lips curling up into a smile and saying, "Hey, hon."

There's a greeting from another person on the other end of the line – one that you are certainly familiar with.

Jimin moves his camera and as expected, you see Namjoon waving at you.

"Hey, __,"

You mirror the smile on his face. "Hi, Joon."

"Let's not keep her up. She has to go to work," Jimin tells Namjoon. "Anyway, bye. Kick some ass at work."

Laughing, you tell them, "I'll be off. Good night to you both."

When the call ends, you look down to your shirt once again, seeing that the little wet spots still haven't dried yet. Sighing, you decide to change out of it because it looked untidy.

Too bad you didn't check the time when you were doing it though, because as soon as you were done buttoning the new shirt you've worn, the clock hits 7:55 am. You bus arrives at exactly 8 am.

"Shit." You hiss, scrambling out of the apartment hoping that you can somehow run your way fast to the station and hop on it on time.

But you're no The Flash or Usain Bolt. To piss you off more, the strap of your bag got caught up with the handle of your door.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You whisper, hastily untangling the strap off the door which won't let up.

"__?" As soon as you hear the familiar voice, you stop with what you were doing and turn to Jungkook, conjuring up a what you can only hope a pleasant enough smile.

"Hey!" You say, chirpy in that weird way. You hope he didn't catch you cursing the door.

But with the way he was looking at your hand on your door, you knew he did.

Sigh. He just really has to catch you in your most vulnerable moments, huh?

"Good morning," Jungkook greets with a smile, ignoring the case at hand. As usual, he looks put together with his sleek suit and styled hair and eyeglasses.

"Morning," You say, slowly taking off the strap around the handle, gentle and slower this time.

Fucking door handle, you thought bitterly.

As you do that, you catch a glimpse of your wristwatch. Shoot.

You look back at Jungkook apologetically, moving away from your porch. "Nice seeing you. I have to catch my bus."

"When is it coming?"

"At exactly... two minutes from now. Bye! Gotta run!" You were about ready to literally run but Jungkook calls out your name.

"Wait!"

You stop coming down the flight of stairs to ask him, "What?"

"I can drive us together there."

"Oh," You slap your hands on your trousers. "That's so nice of you. Thank you—" And then suddenly, his words register, and you take back your quick agreement. You hate that you're so slow sometimes, but it's innate at this point. "I mean, no! That's a nice offer, but no, thank you."

"You won't catch your bus at this point," Jungkook says as a matter of fact, even taking a quick glance at his own watch. He begins to walk down the stairs to walk with you. "It only takes thirty minutes to drive by car to the company." When it takes you long to answer, Jungkook insists, already predicting the "no" that you're going to hit him with. "Come on, do you want to be late?"

"No."

Jungkook smiles at you. "Okay, so...?"

You purse your lips into a thin line, blowing your bangs and giving him a sheepish look.

"Okay, fine. But I owe you."

The smile on his face only grows wider. "More than fine by me."

He leads you both to the parking building nearby where his car was, only taking about a few minutes to walk towards.

When Jungkook points at his car, you follow his behind him shortly, stopping on the one side of the door. You're just about to open it when you feel Jungkook looming behind you, his hand extended forward to open the same door. You stretch your neck to look at him in question, making sure to keep a decent distance between you both.

"Uh...?" You utter.

And then it hits you.

He's trying to open the door for you.

You take a step back after the realization, feeling shy about the prospect of such a chivalrous act from him.

"This is the driver's seat."

"Oh!" You exclaimed. Eyes widening, you walk backwards to give him more space. "Yeah! Fuck... sorry," You apologize, cheeks starting to heat in embarrassment.

You round about the car and enter the passenger seat quickly, seeing Jungkook already set in his own place. You look to the side, almost pressing yourself to the window just so he won't see the way you wince.

So fucking embarrassing. This is exactly what you write about in your diary during high school days.

"Your seatbelt," Jungkook says, and you look at him with widened eyes. Right. You were way too deep in embarrassment that you forgot about it. You fiddle with the seatbelt a few seconds before he speaks once again, "Let me."

And you couldn't have stopped him from leaning closer to you to grab the seatbelt and wear it around your waist, carefully and gently, making you hitch your breath at the sudden proximity.

Of course you've noticed it way before, but this is the first time you were close enough to deduce that he smells like green apple and fresh laundry. A little different from the musky scent that you were used to smelling on men that you've been with before.

"There." He smiles at you before sitting back on his chair, wearing his own seatbelt.

You are way too stunned to acknowledge what he did that for the first few minutes, you're just quiet, mind flying to some place. You only snap out of it when Jungkook speaks again.

"Slept late last night?"

You shake your head at his question. "No... just facetime with Jimin this morning. You were right to tell me not to worry, he's with Joon."

Jungkook nods at your words, turning the ignition of the car. He starts to reverse, and you feel yourself growing embarrassingly hot when he does the thing of putting his arm around the back of your seat while the other spins the wheel, stretching his neck to look back.

You decide to look away for your own sake.

"Uh, anyway, I'm really sorry."

"Hm?" Jungkook hums, eyes on the road as he starts driving.

If you think about it, you were just at his place a few nights ago eating dinner with him, and now, you somehow find yourself in his car as he drives you both to work. His constant kindness is not lost on you... but Jungkook's casualty makes it seem like this is just his plain nature.

You quirk your head to the side.

"Are you free later for lunch?"

"I can arrange my sched. Why?"

"Do you want to go together?" You ask. You'd say the offer is a form of compensation for his help today, but getting lunch together for the pure sake of it doesn't sound bad, either. Both works, so you're only a bit hopeful as you try to look for his reaction.

Jungkook has a hint of surprise on his face when he takes a quick look at you before turning his attention back on the road.

"Really?" There's a little lilt to his voice, as if he's not surer if you're being serious.

You shrug to appear casual. "If you're not too busy, that is."

He shakes his head, smiling. "Where are we going?"

"You're gonna find out later." You tell him. Jungkook cocks his head to the side, intrigued.

"Okay... where should I meet you, then? At your office?"

"Oh, god, no." Is your quick response. Jungkook immediately looks at you in offense, but it's more like amusement when he stares longer. At that, you wave your hand so he doesn't get the wrong idea. "No, no, I mean— it's just rude if an executive, like, comes to our office."

"You're still not hung up on the boss thing?" You roll your eyes at his teasing tone which earns a hearty chuckle from Jungkook. He shakes his head playfully at you. "I doubt anyone would care."

You jut your bottom lip out because he's probably right. But still, your co-workers would ask, and you're not trying to dig yourself a hole by making yourself news of the day because the newly appointed interim CTO just walked into your office for what? Lunch? The HR would have a field day.

"Maybe we can meet at the parking lot?" You offer, thinking it's the sensible place.

Jungkook smiles. "Alright."

You had to stay behind Joonhwi and Sol as lunch came, making an excuse about going out with a friend as opposed to not coming with them. In your head, you think you were doing Joonhwi a favor.

After that, you were welcomed with text from Jungkook when you turned on your phone. It said he was already at the basement where he parked earlier, so it wasn't exactly hard to spot him right away the moment you got there.

The drive to your destination was quick enough to only amount to around fifteen minutes. As soon as Jungkook managed to park his car somewhere, you lead him to where the place you'd chosen for lunch.

When he finally registered where you were, his amusement does not go unnoticed.

"I've always wanted to go here," He tells you, looking around the stores in-line by the street.

You look back at him in surprise.

"You haven't been here?" Jungkook nods and you want to ask him if he's kidding around, but then you realize he's no ordinary person like most of the people you know in your life, recalling that Jimin's first time in a marketplace like this was only when you introduced him to it during sophomore year. "But you eat street food, right?" You ask him, even though you know he does. You did spend nights on that food truck around your building.

"Of course I do," Jungkook chuckles, rubbing a hand at the back of his head, seemingly shy. "I just never tried it here."

You give him a wide grin. "You're gonna enjoy it here. Follow me, I have a favorite store here that sells really good hotteok."

You spent the better part of the morning thinking about the place where you can bring him, opting out of going to cafes and restaurant because it was just getting kind of old. Aside from the fact that you stopped going to the food truck across your apartment building, it's also been a while since you enjoyed some street food yourself. You're also delighted to know that this is apparently Jungkook's first time going here.

The area is usually livelier in the later hours of the night, but there are still a lot of people by lunch time. Students, civilians, tourists... a usual day in Seoul, you can say.

When you reach the hotteok stall, you ask for your usual right away, almost asking the same thing for Jungkook but remember that he might actually want something else.

"Do you want other flavors instead?" You look back at him while he stands behind you with his hands in his pockets. He's forgone the coat – it's somewhere in his car seat – which left him with his usual polo shirt, sleeves folded up to his forearms. He kind of looks broody with his stance and you know... the exposed tattoos – but he looks adorable when he gives you that familiar easy-going smile at your question.

"I'll have whatever you're having."

You're hungry for a while now so you don't wait a long time to take a bite of the hotteok when it's finally served. It's hot, and Jungkook laughs as you learn it the hard way, sputtering as you move the food away from you.

"Fuck!" You curse, blowing air and fanning your mouth which doesn't really do anything.

"Slow down," Jungkook says in between his chuckles. You feel his arm resting on your back as some sort of support. "I'll get you some water."

It only takes him a few seconds to stop by a nearby stall to get you some bottled water, and you thank him after drinking it quickly.

"Sorry 'bout that," You apologize, smiling sheepishly.

"There's a—" Jungkook gestures at his mouth. You arch your brow at him, a bit confused. He tries again. "Something in your—" He interrupts himself, shaking his head, and takes out a handkerchief from the depths of his slacks.

Your immediate reaction is to take a few steps back when he goes to wipe at your mouth. Jungkook stops, pausing his movement. You give him an awkward thumbs up which prompts him to continue.

"Done."

You choose to gloss over that occurrence, taking another bite of hotteok after that.

"You know I always wondered why I don't see you going out of your apartment every morning." You start a conversation while you walk together mindlessly.

"You wonder... why?" Jungkook looks at you for a brief moment. With a teasing grin, he says, "You wanna see me every day?"

You gasp.

"Gross, Jungkook." You say, absolutely scandalized at what he said.

He just laughs, shaking his head, amused at your reaction. It makes you roll your eyes.

"I just figured you don't commute so you don't need to leave early." You tell him.

You notice he seems to be extra playful today.

"Oh, yeah, that's right."

"Lucky you. I'm so sick of commuting."

"You don't like driving?"

You shake your head, "I don't know how to drive, and I don't have any intention to."

"I think I've heard that from Joon before." Jungkook chuckles.

"Oh yeah, he told me one time he'll most probably kill himself if he drives. Which– same."

Jungkook bites on his hotteok, chews on it for a while before saying, "That's what I thought when I started to drive a motorcycle."

You almost snap your head to look at him.

"You drive a motorcycle?" You ask, just to be sure you heard him right.

Jungkook nods. "Hm."

"Oh, wow... that must be..." You trail off, looking blankly ahead of you.

Well, now you can't get it out of your head. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with his tattoos out. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with a leather jacket.

Ugh. You told yourself you were gonna forget about the stupid crush! This is so counterproductive. There's nothing special about a man who drives a motorcycle! Not at all.

"Must be...?" Jungkook curiously asks you.

"Nerve-wracking." You say, which you think is a fair answer. He doesn't have to know that you're thinking about a totally different thing.

He nods. "It was for the first time. Mom always gives me an earful whenever I use it." He shakes his head while laughing.

You can't help but ask.

"You're close with your mom?" It only registers to you that the question must be way too privy, but Jungkook doesn't seem to think so as he answers casually right away.

"Yeah. She was really glad when I came home."

You smile. You once thought he's close with his family... turns out you aren't exactly wrong.

"That's sweet."

He just gives you a soft smile. "You?"

"Oh, me? She, uh, died awhile ago. So."

The smile on Jungkook's face falters.

"That... sucks."

"Thanks." And then it makes you laugh. "You know most people say sorry. You're the first one to say it sucks."

"I..." Jungkook seems to track back on what he said. "I mean, I'm sorry, of course. But it must suck, right? I just... love my mom a lot. Can't imagine losing her."

You nod, completely understanding where he's coming from.

All your life, people have always felt sorry for you for losing your mom, your only parent. Of course, you're thankful for the sympathy, but sometimes... you just need someone to be real with it. Someone to say it sucks – because losing a parent is hard. Losing a mother suck.

"You're not so bad, Jungkook." you comment after a while, and as you take a quick look at Jungkook, you see him in another light. The same light you see a person in when you figure you want to befriend them and be in their life.

"What do you mean by that?" Jungkook asks with an arched brow.

You shake your head, smile not going away.

"Nothing!"

Jungkook annoyed you some more about it and you had to laugh at his curiosity because it was funny the way he insisted about something really inconsequential. Even when you went to another stall to buy some drinks, he still tried to bring up the same thing, but you're more stubborn than him so of course his efforts did not bear any fruit.

After a while, you sit on some bench while you eat tornado fries.

"I don't like this." You say, looking at your stick and frowning. Turning to Jungkook, you extend your tornado fries to him. "Try this one."

He takes a bite from your own stick. Surprisingly, he seems to like it.

"You wanna exchange?" He offers his cheesy tornado fries in exchange with your sour barbecue-flavored one. You nod, taking it from him. Jungkook chuckles at you. "I told you to get that one."

"I was feeling experimental." You tell him simply.

When you were in front of the stall, you told him how you didn't like sour barbecue at all but still wanted to give it a try. Obviously, that did not go well. Good thing Jungkook bought the cheesy flavor, though.

From your peripheral vision, you see a group of what seems to be a group of teenage girls sitting on the bench across from you. Judging from the very familiar uniform, they're in high school. They've been there for a while now and you notice they've been stealing glances at your direction.

You glance at Jungkook and snort.

"Looks like someone here has some admirers from Seoul High School." You tease Jungkook. He does not seem to notice the girls at all, looking at you with confusion first before turning his head to look across.

In a second, Jungkook turns uncomfortable in his seat.

"That's Seoul High School?"

You laugh at the obvious way he ignores them looking at him. Still, you nod your head at his question, "Yup. Went there."

You subtly look at the girls' direction again, catching them do the same and you can just see Jungkook's ears getting red by the second, visibly embarrassed at the unwanted attention.

"That's just across my high school." He casually says, trying so hard not to mind the girls.

"No way!" You gasp. "Yongsan International?"

He nods.

"The cheerleading teams on both schools used to have, like, this big beef before, you know that?" You tell him, ready to lay out the huge gossip that happened in your batch. And then you remember, "Oh. You've probably graduated when I entered senior year in high school."

Jungkook gives you a look. "Rude. I'm not that old."

The sass comes unexpectedly which makes you laugh out loud you almost choke on the fries.

You were just about to tease him some more when somebody approaches you both.

"U-uhm..."

When you both look at the girl, she's one from the group who was shamelessly looking towards your direction, which is obviously aimed at a specific someone by your side, Jungkook.

"Hi!" You greet cheerfully.

The girl blushes and then turns to Jungkook.

"O-oppa..." She utters, hesitant when she pulls something out of her skirt pocket. It's a small, crocheted sunflower.

You coo at the sight, looking at Jungkook in amusement. The man beside you just grow more uncomfortable in his seat. He looks so constipated, god bless him.

"My friend told me to give this to the eonni beside you."

Your smile is quickly wiped off your face the moment her words sink in, confusion slowly coming to paint your expression. You look at the girl but before you can say anything, she's already walking away as soon as Jungkook takes the crocheted flower from her. You watch as she and her friends ran, their figures slowly disappearing from your line of sight.

"Looks like you got admirers from Seoul High School." Jungkook quips beside you. "For the eonni beside me." He teases, extending the cute little flower to you.

Hesitantly, you take the flower from his hands.

"You know, it suits you." Jungkook says when you don't say anything, still stunned from the literal turn of events.

You look up, baffled. "Huh?"

"A sunflower. It suits you... you're like it." He smiles, soft and gentle. There's a look of fondness in his eyes that you couldn't have mistaken for anything else. "I'm glad they gave that to you."

You open your mouth to speak, but there's nothing at the tip of your tongue.

Shying away from his gaze, you mumble a low, "Thank you."

You don't think you hear his next word right.

"Cute."

You have a hobby of collecting hobbies instead of focusing on one thing to be good at, jumping from one activity to another, even if it means abandoning your previous thing. Hobbies for most people means time lent to be better with it every day, but in your defense, you don't necessarily think you have to be good at something.

You've tried drawing. You've tried dancing. You've tried the guitar and you've tried the ukelele and you've tried crocheting and you've tried to study astrology. You've built three huge boxes of storage containing the needed materials for each of them, but they end up collecting dust.

Why can't a hobby just stay as a hobby, anyway? Why can't you just feel goofy one day to suddenly start drawing and give up the next day the moment you realize shading is hard? Why can't you just buy dress patterns and only sew the skirt part because tops are complicated to sew? Why can't you just learn four guitar chords because it's enough to play at least five songs using them?

None of it matters, you think. People will pressure you to push and push until you can possibly capitalize on something you're good at, but it just isn't the case for you.

You'll collect all the hobbies in the world until your head is full of random things and you just burst with it.

And true to your words, you find yourself wandering about in the baking aisle of your local grocery store at the late evening hours.

Yep. It's 2028 and your hobby pick for the year is baking.

So, what if you're a disaster in the kitchen? Cooking and baking are two different worlds! At least that's what Google tried to tell you a while ago when you were cleaning your bathroom earlier this morning, suddenly craving for some matcha cookies after you were done.

It sounded about right in your head that you decided to pick up ingredients for it, deciding it will be your dinner. At the back of your head, you think you should've just gone to the hundred cafes surrounding your apartment complex like, you know, any regular person would if they're craving something. But you figured that if you know how to bake, you could get matcha cookies anytime you want.

What can you say? You like to live life on edge. (You'll probably burn yourself in the oven later, but that will just be another lesson that life is soon to give you. You're just taking it in advance.)

But living on edge doesn't mean getting your card declined when you turn it to the cashier to supposedly pay for your grocery.

"I'm so sorry, uhm, can I have a few seconds, please?" You tell the cashier, giving her an awkward smile as you grab your wallet from your tote bag again, taking your card from her. You take another one of your debit cards this time and offer it to her, subtly looking around in hopes that no one is watching.

"Oh, we don't accept debit cards issued by this bank, ma'am." She says, and you're just about ready to dig yourself a hole from this complete, utter embarrassment.

"Okay..." you trail off nervously, glancing at the computer to look at your total. "I'll just pay in cash."

You do not, in fact, have enough cash.

You can tell the cashier is getting impatient from the way she shifts her weight from one side to another, and you keep yourself from making eye contact with her, fumbling with your wallet.

Three hundred and sixty-five days in a year and your card chose to decline on this very particular day. Why don't they accept your debit card? And why don't you have enough cash with you? Are you really this broke?

This is going to be a disaster. You can't afford to go to prison for this. Can you even go to prison for not paying grocery? Okay, maybe jail time for like 12 hours? But you have work tomorrow!

"Excuse me, miss,"

Somebody says but you refused to look at whoever it was, still counting the bills in your wallet that do not even accumulate to half the amount of your total.

"You can charge her bill here."

At that, your head quickly snap to the owner of the voice only to reveal himself as no other than Jeon Jungkook.

You swear you almost sigh in relief at the sight of him and have the sudden urge to hug him big time.

Jungkook looks at you and gives you a smile.

"Hi."

"Jungkook," you breathe. "Thank god you're here."

The cashier looks at you both weirdly but nonetheless swipes the card Jungkook gave her., instructing him to type his code on the key pad. There's nobody in line for the cashier you went to other than you both because it is too late an hour to be getting groceries, so Jungkook is able to butt in seamlessly and get his cart checked out as well.

"You're very much welcome." He says warmly.

Jungkook's dressed just as casually as you; a combination of simple white t-shirt and shorts and a pair of sliders. His grocery contains a lot different than yours, showing all sorts of food ingredients. You wait for his stuff to get bagged until you both head out of the store.

His car was just parked nearby, so you follow him towards its direction to apologize.

"I'm so, so sorry for earlier. I'll pay you later when we get home, of course." You say, just now registering how embarrassing it is for him to catch you in that situation. You're no stranger to getting your card declined... but really, now?

You decide to add awkwardly, "Or... do you have Kakao Pay?"

Jungkook chuckles while he opens his trunk, picking up his bags of groceries to place them in there. He shakes his head, keeping his hand outstretched to upwards to hold the hood of his car.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

You're about to speak in protest when he gestures at the bag in your hands, as if asking you to place it in the trunk as well. You shake your head repeatedly.

"No, it's okay, I'm just gonna take a cab home." You say, pointing to your back where the street is, politely refusing his obvious offer to drive you home.

He's done too much in the span of ten minutes you've seen each other tonight. He's paid for your groceries for heaven's sake, and he still has the intention to drive you again to your destination? Not adding the fact that he also just drove you to work yesterday to keep you from being late. It's like he's just doing you heaps of favors and so far, you've done nothing in return.

"__, please, I'm offering." Jungkook insists. As usual. "I really don't mind."

Shoulders deflating, you let out a sigh.

"It's just that..." You start, nibbling on your bottom lip.

"What?"

"You've just been doing me a lot of favors lately." You say, looking away from his gaze.

Jungkook calls your name gently. You train your gaze at him. He steps closer to you and gives your shoulder a soft tap. "Hey, I'm not counting."

The words in itself aren't all that special, but the way he said it and the way he looked at you while he did may have just did a little damage to your heart because why did it seem so genuine?

Still, you shy away.

"It's just really embarrassing." You say, out of argument now.

Jungkook lets out a sound of amusement and takes the bag from your hands. He didn't even give you the chance to protest before he managed to put it successfully in the trunk of his car, together with his own groceries.

"Why don't you pay me back by helping me make dinner tonight?" Jungkook muses.

You give him a weird look.

"You really want me in a kitchen? Have you not listened to my horror stories this whole time, Jungkook?"

He laughs as he leads you both inside his car. You follow quietly behind but this time, you don't mistake the passenger seat from the driver's seat and instantly wear your seatbelt as soon as you're sat.

"I dunno, I'm just offering. I thought it'll be fun." He shrugs, turning on the ignition of the car and starting to drive back to the apartment building.

"Okay, I can at least chop some onions and garlic..." You trail off. And then you remember as an afterthought, "Oh, I'm actually baking tonight as well."

Jungkook takes a quick surprise glance at you. "You never told me you know how."

You snort. "I don't know how, trust me. I'm just starting right now."

"Is that why you went out grocery shopping tonight?" He arches a brow.

"Yep. Totally a spontaneous thing. I wanted, like, this very specific matcha cookie..."

Jungkook laughs. "Should I help you with the baking as well? I might learn from you."

"Really? You want to help?" You ask him delightfully.

He nods, making your grin wider.

"Sounds fun."

You both agreed to cook and bake at his place, partly because you personally are not ready for him to see your own flat. When you get inside his unit, Jungkook cutely bragged about his table set that just arrived earlier this morning according to him.

Personally, you've barely cooked at your own place let alone somebody else's. The one time you were in someone else's kitchen was Jimin's but even then, it was just to microwave some pizza and other take-out food.

It should feel weird to be prepping ingredients with someone, to move around the kitchen with the goal to make yourself a homecooked meal – especially with somebody like Jungkook – but truthfully, it felt almost... natural. Probably because you're conversing casually while you're doing things so there isn't any awkward silence.

You're making tangsuyuk, according to him, and he's obviously taking the lead – expertly prepping the meat while you go chop some spices needed for the dish.

"Is this okay?" You ask, showing him your work. You hope he likes it because you're kind of under a weird pressure to be in here, helping him. Also, you're not sure if you minced the garlic right.

But Jungkook just gives you a hearty smile.

"Good girl."

And goes back to what he's doing as if he just said nothing.

Which—okay, he seemed to have unconsciously said it that now you're gaslighting yourself whether you heard him right or not. Did he really say what you think he just said? What the fucking fuck.

Thankfully, Jungkook's too busy to notice that you become a bit frozen in your position for a good ten seconds. If he truly didn't mean to say that, he needs to get those words out of his vocabulary before he sends you in a sudden cardiac arrest. It'd be the most mysterious death of humanity.

"Do you need the carrots?" You ask, raising the vegetable in your hand.

Jungkook nods and you start to peel it. He watches by your side when you begin slicing the carrot.

"Cut them into Julienne slices."

"Huh?" You look back at him. "Not the cooking jargon, Kook." You deadpan, the nickname seamlessly coming out of your mouth.

He apologizes and tells you exactly what he meant. You furrow your brows in concentration to achieve what he wants, but Jungkook just laughs beside you.

"Okay, let me just—"

He's behind you a second after that, towering over your form and circling his arms around you. Your breath hitches as Jungkook places his hand on top of yours – the one that holds the knife – and begins to guide you through slicing the carrot.

You can feel his breathing from the proximity of your position, and even though there's still distance between the both of you, it's only hairsbreadth away and frankly, the ridges of the front of his body are so prominent against your back.

Jungkook does not seem to face the same internal panic as you though, because as soon as he deems that you are staring to get it, he steps back and let you do the thing on your own.

He leans back on the countertop, crossing his arms while looking at you.

"You're not so bad at this like you claimed." He comments.

You feel your cheeks heating up, so you focus your full attention on the carrot, your hands seemingly having developed a mind of their own throughout the time. Well, at least it's doing the right job. You can only hope you don't slice through your fingers... imagine cutting them right into this very moment.

"This is a trauma response from watching too much Gordon Ramsay."

Jungkook chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.

"We're just gonna wait for another thirty minutes for the meat and the mushroom. Should we start baking? What do we do first?" He says, washing his hands first before walking towards your direction.

You take your phone out from your pocket, looking at him a bit apologetically as you say "sorry" for pulling up Google. For the record, you haven't memorized shit and this is your first time baking.

Jungkook shakes his head, telling you there's no need for apologies because he "can't bake for shit" himself. That makes you feel relieved. You thought he's just good at a lot of things.

You don't encounter any trouble while mixing the dry ingredients, but when it comes to the wet ones, you think you've done something wrong. Jungkook tells you to try it. When you dip your finger into the mixture and taste it, you automatically scrunch your face.

"What, why?" Jungkook asks curiously.

"I don't think this is quite right..." You say, looking down at the mixture sadly.

"Mayve we can add more vanilla...?" He takes the bottle with him, ready to pour some into the bowl.

You pout. "But it says one teaspoon and we already put one teaspoon."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know... give up?"

Jungkook chuckles as he says your name.

You sigh. "Okay, maybe we'll try some that."

You do as you say, and as you taste it again, you're delighted to notice the elevated flavor. Mindlessly dipping your finger again into the bowl, you offer it to Jungkook to try.

The very act just sinks into your head when he leans down to suck it off your finger.

It happened quick, not at all sensual and slow like the movies make it out to be, but you feel your heart rate picking up at the feel after-effect of Jungkook's hot tongue touching your skin. But as you look at him, his eyebrows are furrowed, assessing the taste, not at all in a trance by what just happened.

"Oh, definitely better." He comments, as if he didn't just... suck your finger?

... Which you offered.

That he took willingly.

You turn away from him and pretend to busy yourself with the electric mixer, fumbling with the paddle.

"Are you cooking the tangsuyuk yet?" You ask, changing the subject. Jungkook is completely unaware of the current chaos in your head, walking towards the refrigerator to take out the pork he marinated earlier and the bowl of mushrooms.

"Just tell me if you need help." He tells you, touching the small of your back as he passes by you to get to the stove.

You feel your cheeks heating at the touch, moving aside to let him start frying the meat with the batter he's busied himself with awhile ago.

"Shit!" You say, surprised at the sudden whir of the machine. Jungkook quickly looks at you. You laugh and give him a thumbs up. "I'm fine here!"

You both work together on your own thing, and when you let the dough to rest, Jungkook, at the same time, finishes frying the meat of the tangsuyuk. You don't want to feel useless while you don't have anything to work on, so you peer over what Jungkook is doing and ask him if you there's anything he needs.

"Do you want to make the sauce?" Jungkook asks you. You scrunch your nose and hesitantly nod. He seems to notice your uncertainty and chuckles. "I'll teach you."

"Okay, but don't blame me if it tastes like shit later, okay?" You warn but he just shrugs and laugh, telling you that he'll talk you through the process and there's no need to be nervous. You can just experiment with it a little, he says.

You've watched a lot of Hell's Kitchen episodes that you have this silly, unrealistic expectation on what goes on in kitchens, but thankfully, Jungkook isn't like Gordon Ramsay at all and is so unbelievably gentle in teaching you even when you almost spilled soy sauce on the countertop and put too much vinegar than needed. He shrugs your worries off by fixing the thing, thankful that when he offers you the ladle to taste the sauce from it, it's more than decent.

While Jungkook prepares the tangsuyuk for your dinner, you take the time to form your cookie dough into small circles, leaving it in the oven to bake while you follow Jungkook into the living room and start eating the food that you cooked – or he cooked.

Jungkook teases you that you lied about not being good at cooking, but you have to remind him you didn't do shit and only the bare minimum. He looks like he's not convinced.

By the time that you're finished with your dinner, the oven's timer went off. Jungkook insists that he wash the dishes even though you feel like you should be the one doing it, but he tells you to check your cookies in the oven and so you did.

You're not expecting anything, but it will feel really good if it tastes at least okay.

Crossed fingers, your mind says as you take out the sheet pan.

First impression: it looks okay to the eye. Like real cookies.

But soon, your parade is rained on when you try to bite into the cookie.

It looks like real cookie, all right, but apparently doesn't taste like one.

Your face contorts into a frown as soon as you bite down into it a second time.

Okay, that's it. Put them in the tupperware as soon as possible, you thought. So, you do just that, placing all of the pieces into the plastic box and securing them away.

From where you were, you can hear Jungkook shutting the water off on the sink, his footsteps coming near you. Once he gets close, he peers down at what you're doing. Intrigued, he asks for one.

"No." you shake your head. The cookies are to be gatekept not because it's too good but because it should not be consumed at all. Jesus. You just ate Jungkook's tangsuyuk and it tasted exactly like the ones you've eaten from restaurants; it'd be such an embarrassing contrast to your own work.

"Don't be stingy," Jungkook playfully says, already making a move to reach for the cookies in your hands.

You hide the tupperware behind your back and stop him with your other free hand.

"Don't come closer. These cookies are not for consumption. Go away."

But he just arches a brow, walking a few steps forward.

"Jungkook!" You whine. "They don't taste good, and I'm embarrassed by them."

"Just one bite," Jungkook chuckles at you, not understanding your mortification. "Come on, __."

But you're stubborn and you won't let him have any of it even if he tries hard.

Jungkook is just as determined though, as he threatens to get closer and closer to you.

You squeaked out his name when he takes a hold of the tupperware but thankfully, you're quick on your reflex and able to take it back.

The whole thing prompts you to burst into laughter as you run around the island of his kitchen, giggling at the silliness of it all.

Your efforts to get away from him eventually go to waste as he managed to get ahold of your waist with his one arm, the other not missing the beat to steal the cookies from you.

He's firm over his hold, lifting you up while laughing against your head as you try to wriggle away.

"Let me have one bite, __," He says, and with his one arm, sits you on the countertop, not letting you go just yet even when you're fully sat.

You try to snatch the plastic from him but he's much quicker this time. When he opens it, you have no choice but to cover your face in embarrassment.

"I told you it's bad." You say, pouting at him, noting the expression on his face as he chews on the cookies that tells you it definitely does not taste good.

"You're a first timer." Jungkook just says, putting down the tupperware.

"Don't try to make me feel better." You frown even more.

"I'm not! I'm just pointing out that this is the first time you tried so of course it's not gonna be perfect right away?" He offers, some sort of comfort, maybe?

But your shoulders deflate because he's right.

Still.

Jungkook must have noticed your mood and tries to cheer you up one more time.

"Come on, you still made a really good tangsuyuk."

That makes you chuckle, unconsciously kicking his knee slightly making him let out an ingenuine, "Ow!"

You don't notice one of the straps of your spaghetti top falling off until Jungkook fixes it for you in the middle of your shared laughter.

"Thanks." You smile at him, mindlessly touching the strap, keeping it in place.

Jungkook hums as he helps you jump out of the kitchen counter.

The night ended with him walking you to your unit again, a rather silly thing he keeps on insisting to do. It's hard to put a name on it, but there's a certain feeling in your chest when you went out of Jungkook's apartment.

A feeling that lingers its way through when you receive a text from him after you come out of the shower that night.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:05pm]: good night chef

You fight off the smile that forces its way into your lips as you type out a reply.

You [11:06pm]: good night :)))))

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:06pm]: i thought u already slept

You [11:07pm]: at 11oclock??? what do u think am i a grandma

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: fair Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: but i had fun earlier. we should do it again sometime

You lie on your back, can't help yourself from letting a small giggle.

You [11:09pm]: jungkook-a You [11:09pm]: just tell me u wanna be with me??

You meant that as a joke, obviously. Just like how he joked about you one time over lunch about wanting to see him every day when you brought up the topic of not seeing him come out of his apartment. You did not mean anything by it other than friendly banter.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:10pm]: 🤔 Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: that can be arranged. you can be my personal sous chef and I'll build us a restaurant

You [11:11pm]: sweet

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:11pm]: you havent seen all, baby

Your lips part.

Okay...

Your relationship is absolutely platonic at best. But you can't help but think that he gets a little flirty at times... like the few moments in his kitchen earlier. Is it bad that you're thinking way too much about that specific memory of him licking your finger without thought? Of his strong arm effortlessly carrying you against his rigid body and putting you on the countertop, almost manhandling you? Is it bad you can't get the memory of him fixing your top out of your head?

His use of nickname ticks a little light at the back of your head, and you decide to poke the nest a little.

You [11:12pm]: really? what r u wearing right now

Just a little jokey-joke between friends and nothing more.

You don't even expect a reply to that, but your phone dings a second after, and when you open your message thread again, your jaw parts wider this time.

It's a picture of Jungkook lying his bed, his face cut off from the frame. But you know it's him from the arm that peeks out, his tattoos a familiar sight by now. The photo is taken at a low angle, just enough for you to see the sleeveless shirt he's sporting and the strings of his grey shorts.

You [11:14pm]: i meant that as a joke

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:14pm]: 🥴

You do not know what he meant by that. You look for a picture to reply with, and the HAHA reaction is expected the moment you pressed send.

You [11:15pm]: stripper patrick says good night

Laughing silently at the meme you sent him which was Patrick from Spongebob wearing a pair of black fishnet tights and boots, you wait as three dots appear on Jungkook's line.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:15pm]: you're a minx

You chuckle, reacting to his message with an emoji and turn off your phone, almost throwing it on your nightstand and scrambling to bury your face in your pillow to let out a sound of a weird sob, but you're smiling your face off and your cheeks feel way too hot.

The truth of the matter is that you ended the conversation because you're afraid of where it's going.

Turning around, you lay on your back and stare at your ceiling, calming the beat of your heart and forcing your eyes to shut close.

But the picture Jungkook sent you keeps on popping up in your head, almost like those ads from shady websites on the internet, and when you think about it, it triggers a slur of memories that play like a picture in your head: his lips wrapped around your finger... his strong arm... his subtle touch on the small of your back...

"Ugh," you groan, slapping your hands over your face.

You furrow your brows to appear serious, thinking that it'll make you think of something serious as well, wrapping a blanket over your body and sighing when the technique doesn't work.

Okay, think of dogs... and puppies...but that's apparently a wrong move because now you're thinking of Jungkook with his dog.

You're obviously awful at this.

You turn on your bed once again, muffling a sound in your pillow.

But then as minutes passed, your restlessness continues to prevail and you're about to cry with the unknown frustration that sits at the back of your head.

Laying in silence for a while, your hand finds itself roaming over your body, your thumb catching your nipple through your thin top. You pinch the nub, experimental, until it turns into a pebbled rock in your touch.

You bite your bottom lip as your other hand trails down over your panties, running it around the waistband, down until you reach down, down, down to your core.

Your lips part when you feel its heat, two of your fingers starting to stroke where your nether lips were. You sigh at the sensation, squeezing at your boob and turning your head to the side, thinking about how good it feels.

Slowly, you reach down under your parties to part your lips, moaning at the wetness that welcomes you below.

You start to stroke gently with your middle finger, drawing figure eights over your core and making sure to put friction on your clit. The ministration produces more wetness in your cunt, and you spread it over for easier access inside as you start to poke into your hole.

"Oh my god," you mewled, breathing heavily against your pillow, pumping a finger into you. It's a little tight, and you remember you haven't touched yourself like this for over a few weeks now.

But god, how could you forget the feeling of it? The feeling of something going in and out of your cunt, gliding so smoothly because of the abundance of wetness all over.

"Fuck." you sigh out, lips parted, eyes closed to feel more of the sensation.

Your other hand reaches under your top to fondle with your boob, helping you stimulate yourself into that familiar feeling of great ecstasy that comes with your pussy getting touched.

It's starting to feel hot, and you can feel the beads of sweat starting to form on the side of your head even though the AC and your fan are both on. There's a zap that starts from your spine that comes with a sort of electricity coming from within, transferring that tick into your belly which prompts you to pump into your hole faster.

The sheets are a mess at this point, with your feet kicking into them as your movement picks up pace.

"Oh god," you cry out silently, muffling your sob in the comfort of your fluffy pillow.

You chase the feeling of completion, closing your eyes once more, trying to figure out how to get there.

And there's one familiar man that pops inside your head.

Jeon Jungkook.

"Oh shit," you hiss, pinching your nipple and going in and out faster.

Jungkook with his lips around your finger. Jungkook pressing his body against your back. Jungkook carrying you against his body. Jungkook's electric touch as he fixes the strap that's fallen over your naked shoulder.

You let out a pathetic moan, trying to shake away the thoughts of him.

You aren't supposed to. It feels wrong. So wrong.

Suddenly, you feel frustrated over still not reaching your climax up to this point.

You let out a heavy breath, pulling out your fingers from your pussy and from under your panties.

You don't get off. You never do – with your fingers, anyway, that is. And that's why you have a trusted toy buried deep at the back of the drawer of your nightstand, kept away for occasional uses. You'd say you need it right now, but you're too flushed and tired to take it out.

And there's also a melancholic feeling in your heart upon realizing that you just thought of Jungkook while touching yourself.

"Shit, shit, shit." You hiss, the cusses mostly dedicated to yourself.

You shake your head as you sit on the edge of your bed, your hair a bird's nest and clothes strewn over your body as per your reflection on the full-body mirror across your bed.

Sighing, you let your head down and massage your temples.

"God, what's wrong with me,"

You feel guilty... because you aren't supposed to think of a friend when you're trying to get off. You told yourself you'd stop finding Jungkook hot or cute or what-the-fuck-ever so that stupid crush can go away finally. But it feels like all your efforts – or lack, thereof – always seem to fall short.

This isn't good. You need to think straight.

A sudden loud ping catches your attention, almost startling you because it's in the middle of the night, after all. When you snap your head to the side, you see your phone with the light out.

You instantly feel a little nervous. What if it's Jungkook? There's an irrational fear in your head that he knows what you just did, but you shake the thought away, scolding yourself for getting way over your head.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel scared to open your phone but then, did you really have a choice?

Slowly trudging to the direction of your phone, you pick it up from the table and turn it on.

August 18: Your cycle forecast Ovulation in 2 days. Your sex drive may just be hitting its peak🌡️ Tap for tips to make most out of it👉

"Oh fuck me." You curse, throwing your phone on the bed, feeling pissed all of the sudden.

Fucking period tracker app... and ovulation.

PART THREE | ...

all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[thatrandomsarahchick]

DC x DP short

I'm picturing Danny moving to Gotham once he's an adult. He came out to his parents, and it went fine. More than fine. They listened to how he was struggling at school because he kept having to chase down the ghosts they let out by leaving the portal open. Jack was super proud of his son for being a ghost hunter even as a ghost, but Maddie understood his concern and set up some new protocols for the portal.

It now automatically closes after two minutes unless a specific command is put in by Danny to keep it open while he is in the Zone, and the shielding around it actually works to stop ghosts coming trig without hurting them now.

The shine of the mortal world has worn off for most of his regulars now, and those that come through have figured out compromises so they can still fulfil their obsessions without hurting others. The meta-protection act officially disbands the GIW, and Red Huntress is given a very thorough speaking to about personal bias and vendettas. She's not allowed back in the field until she comes to the realisation that ghosts are people too, and that she been the bad guy by hunting them the way she did. Phantom is officially recognised as a Hero, but he turns down working for any teams or joining the Big Leagues. He agrees to act as a back up though, in case of any world ending event.

By the time senior year rolls around, Danny has gotten his grades up enough that he can go to a pretty decent university if he wants to. He chooses Gotham University for his engineering degree because they're a feeder school for Wayne Enterprises, who in turn are a feeder company for working for the Justice League as a civilian engineer. Tucker also chooses GU for their tech program, while Sam elects not to go to university straight away.

Tucker and Danny move into an apartment right on the borders of Crime Alley and The Narrows. Tucker manages an impressive 4 months as a local hacker before Oracle notices him, but Danny only manages 3 weeks before he's spotted by a Bat.

He's lying down a foot above his building's roof, looking at the stars. It's a very rare cloudless night, and the power is out in his area. Poison Ivy had launched an attack earlier in the day that had taken cut the power lines, with her mutant plants feeding on the smog and pollution to get stronger.

Duke was up late, finishing the day shift by a quick loop of The Narrows, when he noticed a slightly glowing teenager(?) floating on one of the roofs. He takes note that the man isn't causing any harm and is just peacefully stargazing, before calling it in to Jason. He was technically supposed to be off the clock an hour ago, and besides, the building was on the Crime Alley side of this street. It's Jason's problem now.

Jason, on the other hand, is exhausted and just wants to have a quiet patrol before collapsing in bed. He hadn't been hit by Ivy's plants, but had taken a couple of tumbles while dodging them. He heads over to the address Duke gave him, to find the guy still floating there staring at the sky. He gets it, he does, he would float above the grime that coats Gotham rooftops if he could, but it's dangerous for a meta to be so unawares of his surroundings like this while obviously displaying his powers.

Danny, meanwhile, had clocked both of the vigilantes coming near him, but was really hoping that they would leave him alone. It had been a very long day for him. He'd finally managed to get to campus for his class, only to find that the place was covered in overgrown plants. He'd had to freeze a few to get into the building, and had then spent most of the afternoon in the library due to his class being cancelled. Unfortunately for him, his nearly finished assignment that he'd spent the day working on was eaten by one of the giant flowers on his way home. He'd been 'saved' by the stabby Robin, which had caused him to then also lose his laptop as they crashed to the rooftop a few streets over.

Thankfully, he had an amazing best friend in Tucker, who was doing his best to recover as much data as possible. On the downside, though, Tucker was mad at him for now having saved a backup of his files since they left Amity. He'd fled to the roof to escape his wrath, plans of bribes in the form of food running through his mind, when he'd caught sight of the Stars. Holy shit. It was so clear tonight!

He didn't even realise he'd begun to glow and float, too caught up in naming all of the stars and constellations he could see. His Obsession was feeling very satisfied tonight. Usually he had to invisibly fly above the cloud cover to see such a sight. Sure, the light pollution was still bad, but his mind was able to fill in the blanks across the sky.

The moment Jason landed on his roof, Danny heaved a great sigh. Damnit. The fun police were here. He wrenched his eyes from the sky, only to notice that - oh, shit - he was floating again. He fell to the roof with a light thump.

"Heeeyyy stranger, come here often?" Danny asked, as he rolled over to his side, propping his head up on his hand.

[the-real-google]

Actually no I can respect that because when I first used discord on my phone I used the old mobile website before they designed the mobile formatting and wow it sure sucked

imagine NOT using the mobile website

Could not be me

(yes I hate myself)

How. This is horrible

[mariclerc]

Hi

So, i watched the video of the radio between Charles and his new engineer at Imola. Safe to say i got some ideas, and was wondering if you could write something with Charles and engineer!reader? Basically something where reader is Charles’ engineer and he’s developed feelings for her, during a race ( could be Imola, or Monaco as thats this weekend) she talks to him like Bryan does and he realizes he has a praise kink. Could lead to smut if you’re comfortable with that. Thank you in advance.

Thank you for this request, I did my best to develop it as much as possible, I hope you like it!! <3<3

Strategies and praises | cl16 (+18)

Summary: you like to praise your driver, but you have no idea how much good it does him. Warning: fluff and some light smut.

a/n: CHARLES WON IN MONACO OH MY GOD, I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! HE REALLY DID IT, I'M SO SO PROUD OF HIM!!! (not to jinx him I wrote this between Friday and Saturday so you won't have exactly the positions like in the race)

The Monaco Grand Prix is in full swing, everyone is excited and ecstatic as they want to know how the local driver, Charles, will do. You, as his race engineer, are under a bit of pressure, as well as him, but it's nothing you can't control. For you it is a race of mere strategy and that's it, since many overtakings do not usually occur, and that is why you and Charles spend a lot of time studying the different strategies that may happen in the race.

“If we get one last run with the mediums in quali, we can achieve pole position.” He says and you nod.

“That's right, it's just a matter of the track staying the same throughout qualifying and, in case you already have provisional pole and a red flag or something happens, you're already insured there.” you say as you finish reviewing some telemetry data.

Suddenly he lets out a sigh and runs his hands through his hair, ruffling it a little. You know he is stressed and overwhelmed by this weekend, it's not that he doesn't like it, on the contrary, it's the constant pressure to have a good race at home.

“But... But what if I qualify further back? I don't know, that will change the whole strategy, right?” He asks in a whisper, you nod.

“Ehm... That might change the strategy a little bit, of course, but it's nothing we can't recover with a couple of undercuts or overcuts...” you say to finally close your laptop.

You look at Charles and notice how your words calmed him down a bit, you have been his engineer since he arrived at Ferrari in 2019 and you have been known for giving him some praises every so often in the race. And a couple of times you have been criticized for some questionable decisions in the race, but he was in charge of clearing your name with pride those times, which you are very grateful to him since he always believes in you and you in him.

-

It's already race day and you find yourself with a lot of nerves, the day before Charles had qualified P3 and, although it was not what we expected, there was a certain tension and hope on the pit wall. The roar of the crowd fills Charles helmet as he navigates the tight corners of Monaco. You, his engineer, his voice of reason in the chaos, cut through the static.

“Charles, that was a phenomenal lap! You took the Rascasse beautifully, just keep pushing, we can still make a good climb!” you say on the radio. “Just try to make it clean, okay? You're doing a very good job.”

A small smile tugs at Charles' lips under the helmet... He wasn't just pushing or fighting for the podium anymore, he was pushing to hear your voice, to impress you, to make you feel proud of him.

You watch the telemetry with a focused intensity, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

“Perfect line through Beau Rivage, Charles. You're a monster machine! Let's catch them boy! I know you can do it!” you said watching his lap, he had made a couple of overcuts.

The compliment hangs heavy in the air between you and Charles, a blush creeps up his neck even though you can't see it. He pushes even harder, the car straining under his command.

Charles crosses the finish line, a hard-fought P3. He lets out a guttural yell of exhilaration, the adrenaline coursing through him. Maybe it's not a home win as he wished, but it's a podium and it's something at least.

“Great job, team! That was incredible. Y/n, you were brilliant on the strategy, thank you so much!” you heard his voice over the radio communication and you smiled.

“It was nothing Charles, now let's celebrate! You deserve it more than anyone!” you also say through the radio. “You did an absolutely amazing drive, Charles. You were phenomenal out there. We should celebrate after the podium ceremony!” you say and you let out a little giggle.

A shiver runs down Charles' spine... It wasn't just the post-race adrenaline, it was the way you said it, the subtle soft praise laced with something more, and that sweet and soft giggle of yours. All your colleagues on the pit wall hug you and congratulate you for such a spectacular strategy, Fred also congratulates you with a loving hug. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Relief and pride wash over you, how proud you are to work with someone like Charles is priceless, he is someone who always strives to achieve his own.

-

At the end of the podium and the interviews, the paddock was practically deserted, you found yourself putting some things in your briefcase when you hear Charles calling you to meet you in his driver's room.

The room is a mess of post-race adrenaline, empty water bottles litter the table, fireproof gloves are tossed on a chair, and Charles himself is sprawled on the sofa, he's still in his race suit, sweat clinging to his toned chest through the fireproofs. He looks exhausted but exhilarated and handsome to your eyes. You knock on the door.

“Come in!” You hear him say and you enter the room, a shy and tired smile adorns your face.

“Hey, you wanted to see me champ?” you asked softly.

Charles beckons you in, a shy smile playing on his lips. He pats the space beside him on the sofa.

“Yeah, come sit, please. There's a few things we need to go over, but...” He trails off, his gaze lingering on you a beat too long. You raise an eyebrow, amusement tugging at your lips.

“But what?”

“You did amazing today, you know that? We pulled off a miracle out there, keeping the position.” he smiled shyly.

You smiled lovingly at him. “We did, didn't we? Thanks for trusting my calls. You were a rocket ship on that track, Charles.”

His gaze lingers on you a beat too long. You brush a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling a warmth spread through you.

“Always. You're the best engineer I've ever had. Not just because of the numbers, but...” his voice became a little low, he hesitate a bit, then leans in, his voice barely a whisper. “Because you believe in me... Even when I don't believe in myself, even when everyone doubts about my abilities or myself in general.”

Your heart skips a beat, you reach out, your fingers softly grazing his cheek. The touch seems to spark something in him, he leans into your hand, his eyes searching yours.

You blushed a little. “Hey, I'll always believe in you, Charles! You're incredible. You know that, right?”

His eyes hold yours, a new intensity there. He cups your face, his thumb brushing across your lips.

“There's something else I want you to know... Something I've realized lately.” he says with a husky voice.

He trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips, you feel a shiver run down your spine, he leans in slowly, and you meet him halfway. The kiss is electric, fueled by unspoken emotions and the adrenaline of the race. His hands explore your back gently, sending shivers down your spine.

“Your voice...” he kiss you again. “on the radio...” he give you another kiss. “it does things to me...” he said between kisses.

A laugh escapes your lips, breathless. “Like what, Charles?” you ask him teasingly.

He kisses your jaw, his voice a low rumble. “Like... it makes me want to drive faster, makes me want to win, to archive even more podiums... Especially when you...” He hesitates, then whispers in your ear. “Especially when you tell me I'm doing good, when you tell me that I can do it.” he said huskily.

A blush creeps up your neck. You realize what he's saying, a heat pooling in your core.

“So... you like a little praise, huh?” you whisper too.

He kisses your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “More than you know, mon ange, especially if it comes from you.”

The air crackles with unspoken desire. You let out a soft gasp as Charles undoes the buttons of your t-shirt, his touch lingering on the fabric. You reach up and cup his face, pulling him close for another kiss. This time, it's deeper, filled with a new urgency. His hands slide down your back, sending a fire down your spine.

“Then tell me, Charles. What do you want to hear?” you said breathlessly.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes blazing. “Tell me you're proud of me, tell me I drove flawlessly. Tell me you knew I could do it... Please.” he says in a whisper, practically begging you.

You run your hand through his hair, a slow smile spreading across your face. “I am so incredibly proud of you, Charles. You were phenomenal out there, you took that car to its limits and never gave up. You're a phenomenal driver, the best on the grid.”

His eyes lock on yours, the praise filling him with a surge of heat that goes beyond the race. He leans in again, his voice a husky whisper.

“More, keep going amour. Tell me you knew I could keep that podium, even when I doubted myself.”

You trace the outline of his jaw with your thumb, your voice dropping to a low purr. “I always knew you could keep that podium, Charles. You have this incredible talent, this fire inside you. You were born to be a champion!”

His breath hitches, and he pulls you close, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His hands explore your body, finding the small of your back, urging you closer.

“Don't stop please. You make me want to push myself even further, make me want to win every single race left, just to hear you say that again.” says with a ragged voice.

The praise fuels your own desire. You pull back slightly, your gaze flickering over his race suit, you smile.

“Then let's celebrate your podium properly, shall we? Show me just how good you are at taking some orders.” you say with a husky voice, and a triumphant grin splits his face.

-

The air hums with a different kind of electricity now. Charles's eyes darken, the praise turning him on far more than he expected. He leans in, his voice a low rumble.

“You don't just believe in my driving, do you baby?”

His hand dips under your shirt, brushing softly against your skin. You gasp, a shiver running through you.

“No, Charles. I believe in you... All of you. Your talent, your strength, your incredible heart. You're the most determined, passionate person I know! And seeing you out there, pushing yourself, it does something to me too...”

His touch ignites a fire within you, mirroring the one he feels. You trace a line down his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his damp race suit.

“What does it do, bellissima?” he says with a husky voice.

You lean in close, your lips brushing his ear. “It makes me want to celebrate with you in a very different way.” you whispered in his ear.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. A slow smile spreads across his face, a mix of satisfaction and desire.

“Tell me then, how do you want to celebrate?” he asks.

You run your hand down his arm, sending a spark through both of you. “Let me show you how proud I am of the man you are, not just the driver. How much I admire your strength, your focus, everything that makes you so incredible.”

His breath hitches, and he pulls you close again. This kiss is different, slower, filled with a deeper meaning. His touch explores your body, finding the places that make you shiver, places no one had ever discovered before.

“Then show me, bellissima. Show me everything you've been holding back.” he said with a rough voice.

You pull back slightly, your eyes locked on his. “But first, tell me one more thing. Did you ever think your engineer might be a little turned on by seeing you dominate the track?” you say shyly.

His laugh is a low rumble, filled with pure, unadulterated desire.

“Not until now, but believe me, gorgeous, the feeling is most definitely mutual.”

He finally pulls your shirt up all the way, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. As he slowly undresses you, his eyes never leave yours, a mixture of gratitude and raw desire burning bright. The celebration takes a turn neither of you expected, fueled by the adrenaline of the race, the praise that goes beyond the track, and the deep connection that has been simmering beneath the surface all along.

His eyes scanned your body at a slow place, he was drinking you in just by looking. His lips met yours in a gentle touch and your back met the couch as he hovered over you. Looking into his eyes you kissed him again, biting his lip which elicited a groan from him and a smile from you.

“Oh god amore, are you sure you want this?” He asked. “We can’t go back after you say yes.” he added in a low voice that send shivers down your spine.

“Yes, I’m sure Charles.” you replied bringing his lips down to yours. Detaching his lips from yours he kissed down your body, your skin crawls when you feel his warm lips on your body, slowly kissing every curve and dip that adorns your silhouette, leaving a burning path on your skin, you let out a sigh. “God, you're so good to me Cha...” You whisper between a light sigh, your words made him let out a light growl, he felt his body react to your praise.

“Oh mon amour, je te ferai te sentir si bien... I will make myself worthy of your praise...” He says in a low and sensual voice, the mixture of French and English makes your head go crazy. (Oh my love, I'll make you feel so good...)

His lips continue their journey down your chest, taking the time to kiss your breasts gently, as if they were the most precious thing in the world, then he went down to your abdomen where he left loose kisses in the area, making you release one or another soft sigh. He continued down until he reached your core, he smiled at the sight of you completely naked, he softly kissed the inside of your thighs and your heart started beating super fast.

He started to leave sloppy kisses until he reached your folds, he began to leave sloppy kisses and licks on your wet folds, you raised your hips a little to give him easy access to that area, and he began to devour you slowly, he was taking his time to taste you. Your soft moans didn't take long, he slowly sucked on your clit, making you let out a loud moan that probably rang throughout the deserted paddock, but that's the least of it now.

“Keep doing that Charlie...” you say with heavy breathing and that gave him the impetus to continue savoring you with such passion, you hold on to his soft, silky hair. “God, you're such a... You're such a good boy.” you moan slightly.

Your words lit the fire in him a little bit more and he continued tasting you completely in his mouth, you were like a blessing in his life, like something he had wanted to try for a long time. You felt your walls tighten and a strong wave of pleasure washed over you, you felt like you were going to faint right there.

“Cha... Charlie... I'm... I'm close.” you whispered as you whimpered in pleasure, he stopped his ministrations on your core and looked up at you, god he looked so damn hot, his cheeks flushed, his face sweaty from the strenuous work he was doing down there.

He smiled and took off his boxers, revealing his erect cock, he brought his lips to yours and kissed you softly and sweetly, it was as if he didn't want to let this moment between you go. “If... If you don't feel comfortable or something, just tell me and I'll stop instantly, okay darling?” He said in a hushed whisper looking deeply at your eyes.

You looked and him and smiled shyly. “Charlie, I... I want this the same way you want it, okay? I want you to continue.” you whispered and he nodded. “Just do it, okay honey?”

He aligned himself with your entrance and gently entered you, giving you time to adapt to his big size, your breathing became erratic, he began to move slowly and a little loosely at the same time. He wanted to satisfy you, to please you, make you feel like you are the one who have the power in this precise moment... His hands ran over your body, just as they did at the beginning, until they reached your hips and he placed them there, his thumbs made circles in that area, he began to thrust into you with a little more rhythm. He began to breathe heavily, his hot breath coming into contact with your neck and that gave you chills down your spine, his movements were meticulously perfect, he took the moment to appreciate you and enjoy this.

You felt your walls tightening around him, making the two of you let out moans at the same time, to you, he looked like a Greek god at that moment, sweat taking over his toned torso, his darkened and dilated pupils watching you as if you were a goddess or some kind of miraculous apparition in his life.

“Mhm, bébé, I'm... I'm gonna cum.” he whispered against your neck, his agitated and husky voice a delight to your ears. “God, you feel so good around me chérie.” He murmured as he kissed the skin of your neck, making you sigh again and again.

You moaned as you felt the pleasure wash over you. “Such a good boy my precious Charlie.” you said with a husky voice. “I'm close too, handsome.” you whimpered and you closed your eyes.

The climax reached you two making you tremble with pleasure, your legs trembled and you felt how your breathing stopped being erratic. He rested his forehead against yours and kissed every little part of your face, while you just smiled, the love you feel for this man is incredible, something that goes beyond a simple discussion of strategies or friendly companionship.

When you finally felt that everything in you was completely normal, you spoke. “That... That was, amazing charlie.” you whispered softly, giving him a kiss on his cheek, he smiled. “You made me feel good... I haven't felt like this in a long time.” there was no lie in your statement, it had been a long time since the last time someone had made you feel as good as Charles had.

He smiled and blushed. “It was nothing sunshine, everything for you and only you.” he kissed your cheek. “I think you deserve good things more than anyone else.” he whispered too.

After a few seconds, silence was present in the room, but it was a fairly comfortable one, your hands were intertwined with his and your thumb caressed the back of his hand, you smiled shyly at the sight, it was something that looked so cute and innocent.

He smiled again and looked at you with great affection in his eyes. “I love you, darling... Thank you for this!” He whispered sweetly and kissed your temple.

You smiled tenderly. “I love you too charlie.” you whispered too. “Don't you think we should take even a quick shower?” You say and let out a shy giggle.

He smiles and raises his eyebrows, blushing. “Oh... Of course love!”

You just smile at him again and you kiss his cheek. “And then you take me to my hotel?”

He denied and picked you up in his arms to walk to the small bathroom in his driver room, you let out a soft gasp. “Oh, no my love... We will go to my house!” He said.

You raised your eyebrows and chuckled. “But... And my things? Everything is in the hotel...” You started to say but he interrupted you, leaving several small kisses on your lips.

“Don't worry about it honey, we'll look for that before we go to my house.” he smiled. “Just worry about being pretty and smart, my honey.” you giggled at his words.

“You forgot to mention bossy.” he laughed and blushed.

“Oh sure, a little bossy, but that's how I like you.” he whispered on your lips and kissed you again.

You just smiled while you went into the shower, you felt very happy because you never thought that Charles had something for you and that at the end of the day it was something that you also wanted at some point. You admired him as a driver, that was for sure, but as a person it was a totally inexplicable thing. Today showed you that, apart from being good at taking orders, he was excellent pleasing you and showing his true emotions, you can't wait to see where this new journey might take you both.

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 3]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n Oh, my god. When I tell y’all that everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I stayed up all night writing and editing just to get it out today, so you don’t have to wait another week when I’m off from work again. Yesterday, I was going to surprise y’all with a back to back upload, but when my laptop died and all of my content got deleted, I needed a pause. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Part 3 of a series I didn’t know would become a series.

[Part 2] Part 3

-> <-

You decide to wake up at five because your eyes wouldn’t stay shut any longer. Ripping the blankets off your body, the cool air nips at your skin. You shove your toes into your slippers. Tripping over your tennis shoes, you rethink how close you are to your desk. Feeling around for the corner, you find the desk and you begin to aim yourself the other way. You yelp when your waist collides into the doorknob and you silently curse to yourself while trying desperately not to wake your family. Shuffling through the dark, you take mini steps to your bathroom.

Closing the door behind you, you flick on bathroom light. Squinting, your eyes adjust and the shock of the bright room dulls. You use the toilet first, before your bladder combusts. While washing your hands, you meet your own face in the mirror.

Mornings weren’t your best look. Your hair mats to one side because you’re a side sleeper. Sometimes when your sick you’ll lay on your back to keep your stomach from getting nauseous. Instead of drying your hands on a towel, you toss them back into your hair to mold and shape what’s on your head. Massaging your scalp, you forget your worries for a moment. You wash your hands of the hair that sticks to your hands, and then you dry them off.

You bounce back from the shower when you twist the hot water handle. Water splashes in your face anyway. Steam breathes into your bathroom and you almost feel suffocated by the hot air. That’s what wakes you up in the morning. You strip, then step inside allowing the beads of hot water to bake your skin. The soap you use is plain and boring. It moisturizes the layers of your skin without leaving a scent behind. You watch the bubbles drain below you.

Leaving the shower is harder to you then getting back in. Your day will begin as soon as you step out. Going to school feels like a chore. Your classes all have projects due by the end of the week or by the end of the month. Then there’s the obvious boy you are trying to avoid. Before you can imagine any lewd situations between yourself and him (and trust that you have plenty), you switch off the water to your shower.

You don’t like washing your face in hot water, so you wait until your dry and you have a towel wrapped around your body. The icy water pricks at your pores. You dry, and you apply a thick layer of moisturizer to your skin.

Finding yourself vulnerable in a towel, and thrown into darkness once again because you have forgotten your clothes in your bedroom, you shimmy across the hallway once again.

When you choose a lotion, you act as though you won’t pick the same option you have been for as long as you can remember. The label reads ‘Fruity.’ Simple enough. Throwing on an extra spritz of perfume to compliment the lotion. You like to spray perfume while you’re bare to ensure the smell sticks to you, rather than your clothes.

Wrapping yourself in your robe, you want to take a peak at the sky. Rain clouds form above. Gray all day. You happen to, also, see that Eddie’s trailer is dark. Wayne Munson’s truck is on, and he’s in the driver’s seat waiting for the engine to warm. He goes to work early, and he stays late. That’s how you got to spend so many days and nights at Eddie’s growing up.

You’d tell your mom that you were spending the night with your friend Robin, and she would cover for you in a heartbeat. She must have known what was going on before you did. Did that even count - if you didn’t know?

You shy away from the window.

Going through your closet, you find an acceptable pair of denim that’s right on your hips and loose at your ankles. The striped sweater you call your favorite will scratch at you skin all day, so you put on a plain shirt on underneath.

If the you from a few months ago, saw you sitting at your desk whipping out all of the tools and the sponges that it took to apply makeup to your skin, you’d shrivel in a corner and cry. You got used to the feeling of the brushes against your skin. The way your face feels with a bit of foundation. And the sticky feeling of mascara pressing on your eyes.

As you finish powdering your nose, your stomach growls. Your hungry.

The sun is beginning to wake, and you’re able to move through the home a bit smoother. You find yourself in the kitchen pawing through the refrigerator. No one has gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so your options are limited.

You take the box of Honey Comb cereal off the top of the fridge. A bowl off the drying rack will do, and there’s even a spoon next to it. You pluck out your mom’s cigarettes that she “hides” inside the box. She doesn’t count them when she smokes, so you know that you can sneak one into your pocket for later.

After pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, and stealing your mom’s cigarettes, you grab the milk from the fridge. It’s heavy. When you open the milk the rancid sour odor spoils your appetite.

“Jesus!” You curse.

The expiration reads about a week ago. Gross.

You toss the milk.

Even though you’re completely grossed out, you shovel a few bites of dry cereal down your throat. Dipping your head under the sink for a drink of water, you slurp down the crumbs sticking to the sides of your mouth.

By the time you’ve brushed your teeth, your watch reads seven fifteen in the morning. If you head to school now, you’ll be there by seven thirty.

That’s exactly what you do.

The drive is quiet. Most of the town hasn’t woken yet for their day. Shops still have signs in their window that read ‘Closed.’

You’re allowed into the cafeteria with the other early birds once you get to school. Finding a group of girls you’re in home room with, they welcome you for a study session.

“You look so pretty,” Michelle gushes over your makeup.

You smile. “You too. I love your shirt.”

“I got it on sale,” she tells you the name of the store. “We should all go shopping on Saturday.”

“Girls day out!” Lisa snaps her fingers. “Count! Me! In!”

The three of you small chat for a bit, before you dive into your awaiting assignments. They’re there to help you. You reciprocate the action when they want advise.

The school bell rings.

You pack up, and you wave goodbye for now. But, you’ll see them again in just a few moments when you get to class.

Heading to your locker for the first time in months, you have to try the code twice. The third time’s the charm. You take the specimen in your locker between your index and your thumb. Finding the nearest trash can, you throw the moldy sandwich away. At least the smell hadn’t penetrated through the bag yet.

You’re just zipping up your backpack after ridding yourself of about a hundred pounds of unnecessary textbook weight when someone shouts at the end of the hall.

Petty squabbles between students, you’re usually able to ignore. However, as all the noise is headed in your direction, you hear your name in between cursed and yells. A catastrophic tornado blows your way. Your feet are firm to the ground in terror.

Roxie’s purple, and about to blow a blood vessel judging by the vein nearly popping out of her neck. Hot on her trail is petite Indie, who’s begging for Roxie to just listen to her.

“Hey, you!” Roxie jabs her finger in your face.

Indie tumbled over her own feet, “Roxie!”

You check over your shoulder in hopes that someone might be there. No one is there except a few onlookers she’s drawn in her tirade. Now, you’re thinking. Eddie couldn’t have spilt the beans this quickly. Could he?

“Oh, I’m coming for you, bitch,” she snarls.

You’re toast.

Roxie is larger than you in all retrospects, but she’s especially big in muscle. If she’s about to pummel you, then you’ll be knocked over and split in two like a pin and she’s the ball going a hundred miles an hour.

“Can’t we talk this out?” Indie asks through gasps of air.

You stare between them. Indie isn’t after you by the worried expression she holds. Still unsure exactly what Roxie’s prattling on about, you decide to wait before you interject.

“Is there something going on between you and Eddie?” Roxie demands.

See, you knew their relationship wasn’t casual! Still, you did nothing wrong. Yesterday, you didn’t even express to Eddie that you liked him in the first place. You wanted to drop the conversation, and he kept going. This is his fault. Why isn’t he about to get a fist to the face? Who’s to say he hasn’t already? Yikes.

Roxie sucks her tongue to her teeth.

“Uh-,” you’re still loading in the information, and you hesitate to answer right away. “N- no?”

“Is that a question?” Her hot breath hits your nose.

You bring your hands down to your sides because you can’t let her see you trembling like a leaf. If she smells fear, she’ll know she’s won. Her prey is hers for the taking.

You’re tired of this. “Eddie and I have nothing going on. We’re just- just friends.”

You have a hard time saying that, but not for the reasons that Roxie has in mind. You’re not even sure if Eddie wants to be your friend anymore.

“Okay,” she sticks her tongue into the flesh of her jaw, and then says. “How come last night he moaned your name instead of mine?”

Blood rushes to your ears. Your face is on fire, and you’re sure everyone can see so.

Onlookers jeer and whisper amongst themselves. Rumors are already beginning from mouth to mouth; and, hitting ear to ear.

You would also like to understand what she meant by “moaning your name.” Spare the details. Obviously, you knew what happened last night. You wipe the winner’s smirk off your face, before Roxie even notices.

“I don’t know,” you fold your arms across your chest. “Shouldn’t you ask him?”

Roxie squares her shoulders. She clenched her fists until her knuckles are white. Cursing a few more angry words your way, she’s a bull ready to charge. You might as well be wearing all red.

“What’s going on here?!”

Miss Brown sticks her nose into the hallway and notices the crowd of people. Before anyone can do anything rash, she pushes her way into the center of the chaos. With an ostentatious sort of sigh that suggests she’s better than all of you, she starts breaking up the fight.

“Off to class,” Miss Brown shoo’s them.

“Let’s go, Roxie,” Indie grits her teeth.

Roxie eyes you one more time. “Fine. I’ll be seeing you later.”

You gulp.

It’s time to play a new game around school: Hide from Roxie! Winners get the very rewarding prize of not getting their face beat in.

You dart from class to class all morning. A huge target sticks to your back with Roxie aiming for a bullseye. Meanwhile, Eddie is still no where to be found. He’s probably hiding under his sheets at home, full of shame when he mistook your name for hers.

That’s just fine by you. You still didn’t want to see him either. Or, maybe you did. First, to clear the air about you liking him. A little flimsy crush isn’t going to break a friendship, right? You’ll get over it in time. Secondly, you’re sure that him naming you is a big misunderstanding. He just got distracted or something.

After lunch was over, you planned to sneak through Mr Campbell’s empty classroom. He doesn’t have afternoon classes, and you can easily shoot through since there is a door on either side of the hallway.

“Over there!”

Roxie has the cheerleaders involved now. No doubt they want a piece of judge, jury and conviction too.

Colliding into something solid, you topple over onto the tile. You’re swept away in thought and you forget to watch where your going. Mr. Campbell has that skeleton on wheels that he’ll leave just about anywhere. But, you haven’t knocked over that stupid skeleton.

It’s Eddie.

“Oh, God,” you rub your backside.

Eddie gasps, “What are you doing?”

“What am I-,” you snap. “What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend almost tackled me like linebacker!”

Eddie shushes you. “Do you want her to hear? She’s not my girlfriend. I told you it’s casual.”

“Casual?” You want to yell, but you also don’t want her to hear. The last thing you need is for Roxie to see you in the same room as Eddie. “Whatever you have is not casual.”

“I messed up, okay?” He rubs his temple. “Jesus!”

Your chin lifts at the familiar brrring of the school bell. Now, you’re skipping class. You’ll get another hour of detention no matter if you stay here or go to class.

“You’re hiding from her too?” You conclude.

Detention doesn’t matter to Eddie. He just wants to ensure you’re okay. Judging by the way you’re creeping through empty classrooms, you’re doing just about as good as he is.

"I'm not hiding," he jumps when someone's locker slams. "Okay, so maybe I am hiding."

"This is so humiliating," you cry.

Eddie apologizes, “I’m sorry-,”

“You’re sorry?”

You’re grateful that the light in the room is limited. Otherwise, you don’t know if you could have a conversation with him right now. Eddie has these eyes that you could simply drown in.

“It was an accident,” he claims. “You’re the one who said-,”

“I didn’t say anything,” you correct him. “You’re the one with the wild imagination.”

“Wild imagination?!”

“Maybe I do like Jeff, hm? Or- or maybe I’ve come to realize that Gareth is a great guy. Did you think of that?” You stand before him, while he scrunches down into a chair. “Eddie Munson you’re selfish - no, you’re self centered. All about Eddie- it’s Eddie’s world and we’re all just there like puppets on strings.”

“You done?”

“No!” You snap. “Yes.”

“How could you call me self-centered when you’ve been prancing around this place like the rest of the guys don’t exist? Everyone wants to know where you are all the time. Why would I know? Oh, because you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Eddie rubs his hands across his face. “God, when did things get so complicated?”

"When you started calling me one of the guys in middle school, and I just wanted whatever you wanted,” you admit out loud. “Why do you think I changed when Gareth mentioned Roxie? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Eddie’s unreadable. Although dark, you can see his thoughts bubble and burst.

“It doesn’t matter,” you continue. “You don’t like me like that.”

“Who’s to say that?” Eddie’s voice comes out barely audible.

You shake your head. “Don’t pity me.”

Eddie kicks the stool from under him, “I’m not.”

“Eddie,” you pick at your nails. “What we have is a great friendship. I’m lucky that you’re in my life. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Are- are you okay with that? Are we okay?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave the air so broken. While the words are spelled out in front of him, he can’t find a way to bring them out.

“We’re okay,” he says.

-> <-

Flicking a green bean on his plate with a fork, Eddie can’t be bothered to bring the food to his lips. Nothing passes his mouth. He watches the ice crystals on his steak defrost because he doesn’t want Uncle Wayne to worry that he’s messed up dinner, since this is the first one they’ve shared in a while. Wayne told his boss that he wanted to be home tonight for Eddie, and here he is.

“You’re not eating?” His uncle points out because Wayne has eaten half of his meal, and he worries that Eddie is appearing a bit gray and slender.

Eddie replies. “I ate a lot at school.”

“In the years that you’ve been under my roof, you haven’t stopped eating,” Wayne lowers his head to meet his nephew’s eye. “Try again.”

Eddie pushes the microwaved dinner aside. A low hum comes from the television, and he’s not even sure what’s on. Someone’s bobbing around like a baboon trying to make a woman smile. Yet another attempt from Wayne to make Eddie relive his childhood, he guesses.

“That girl your seeing isn’t pregnant is she?” Wayne presses when Eddie won’t talk. “Eddie Munson, I’ve told you to use a condom-,”

“No,” he cocks his head to rethink. “No, she’s not.”

Even if Roxie was pregnant, she’d get an abortion and make Eddie pay for it. Actually, he still owes her for the condoms.

Eddie wants to be done with women for a while. But, there is still this pinching on his ears that reminds him you’re still there. He’s actually wearing a pair of your studs that you forgot at his house one day. Since Eddie is prone to losing just about everything, he’s decided to wear them so they don’t get lost. No one even notices except for him. They hide behind his hair.

“Look,” Eddie wets his lips. “If I tell you, then you have to promise me you won’t do that weird ‘oooh’ thing you do. Got it?”

Wayne claps his hands together. Say no more. He’s solved the case! That little lady across the park has had her eye on him since the day Eddie moved in. Wayne really likes her. ‘Thinks she’s a great ball of sunshine that can keep Eddie under control. He’s been just waiting for Eddie to wake up and smell the coffee!

“Really?” Wayne excites.

Eddie exhales. “Don’t-,”

“Wait,” he lectures. “You’re not seeing both of them are you? Eddie Munson that is wrong, and I won’t tolerate that behavior. I taught you better.”

“No-,”

“Seriously, boy. Wear a condom. It’s not just for you, but her too you know?”

“Wayne-,”

“You can’t be spreading your butter on everyone’s toast.”

“Wayne!”

“I knew it,” he blabs on. “Ever since I caught you two brushing each other’s teeth. Oh, I saw this coming - I did!”

That incident happened once, and Wayne would never let Eddie live that down.

You smoke one joint.

After sitting in his room complaining of boredom, you tell Eddie you had never brushed someone else’s teeth before. He hadn’t either. You wanted to try. But, Eddie would only let you if the offer went both ways. Wayne burst in when you were scrubbing his tongue. You splattered toothpaste all over the mirror, while Eddie tried to keep you from squirming so he could scrub your teeth.

“You need to learn how to knock,” Eddie tries sailing with the conversation his old man is going on about.

Wayne challenges. “You know there’s no closed doors when you have girls over, Eddie.”

“Oh, my God.”

Reliving the memory, Eddie wants to make more with you. Cooking. You’ll cook. He’ll burn food. You’ll tell him he’s doing a wonderful job anyway because you’re too sweet to tell him to get out before he burns the house down. Eddie visions that you’ll teach him a better way to organize his clothes. You’ve already tried to show him how to fold, but Eddie only lasted a week doing your method before going back to shoving the clothes in whatever drawer is the least bit full. He’ll now admit that he only let you teach him because he wanted you close. He wants you close. Always.

It’s not just domestic stuff he sees. He wants to take you on a date. Many dates. He wants to take you out of Hawkins, even if it’s for just a day. He misses your laugh. Seeing you cry today broke him. Knowing that you’ve changed everything for him, and he didn’t notice. Because at the core of all the makeup and the hair, he guesses, that he just didn’t care. He loves all the extra, don’t get him wrong, but all he can see is you.

“What are you going to do, boy?” Wayne wonders.

Eddie replies in a question, “What if everything goes wrong? I- I can’t lose her, Wayne.”

“Son-,”

“What if I just turn out like him? Like my father?”

Eddie’s lip quivers, as he bites back the tears he’s been holding onto for years. Not a day goes by does he not miss his father, even if the years weren’t kind to him. His father is locked away somewhere in State, but he hasn’t visited. They’ll take one look at Eddie and they’ll try to lock him away too.

“That’s not you, Eddie,” Wayne opens his arms. “Come here.”

Eddie drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder. Tears slide down his cheek and across his chin.

“Deep breaths,” he rubs his hand across Eddie’s back.

He doesn’t cry for long, and Wayne wipes his tears when he’s calmer. This isn’t a usual interaction between them, but neither of them care. Wayne takes away a stray eyelash from Eddie’s cheek.

“You like this girl?” Wayne says as a fact more than a question.

Eddie nods.

“You have to try,” he insists.

“Yeah, okay,” his nephew agrees.

Wayne and Eddie end their conversation there. Eddie eventually eats (after microwaving the food because he could have broken teeth on that steak), and the show that his uncle makes him watch isn’t half bad. Their night comes to a close when his uncle snores.

Mouth agape, head tipped over and his feet propped up, Wayne would be out for the night.

Eddie tucks his uncle’s toes beneath the blanket Wayne was hugging. Tip toeing his way into the kitchen, he puts both forks into the sink along with their drinking glasses. The TV dinners find home in the trash can. While Eddie left the television on to lull his uncle in his sleep, Eddie flicks off the living room and the kitchen lights. He sneaks off to his bedroom, the only bedroom in the trailer. Wayne gave up the space for Eddie to grow into.

Eddie finds that sleep won’t do.

You project onto his ceiling like a film about his life. There you are. Every new milestone. Eddie didn’t think about just how many times you were there for him. His birthdays come to mind, even the ones he didn’t want to be there for because he doesn’t always feel like he deserves to be celebrated. You’d sneak off to get him a beer when his uncle was distracted with all the other kids invited.

When you kept him from going outside, while Wayne drove up in his brand new van that was a gift for Eddie when he got his license. Wayne took on extra hours just for him. That might just have been the night his heart beat a little faster for you. Watching you perform songs in your living room in that ridiculous feather boa and sunglasses, Eddie’s drawn to laugh at the memory of you out of tune and off key. You didn’t care. The hair brush you swore was a microphone was just not working that night. You’re much better performer in the shower, you’d said.

Eddie sits up in bed, and he can see that your bedroom light is still on. Your curtains are drawn, but your silhouette dances about. Bouncing up and down will sometimes get rid of your last bit of energy, Eddie’s witnessed your routine first hand. Your wild, and Eddie finds this fascinating.

When your silhouette disappears, but the light remains, Eddie concludes that you’re reading a chapter book. You told Eddie to try reading sometime because that’s what helped you get to sleep. He bought his first book that very same day.

The Lord of the Rings was your suggestion. Not that he hadn’t found it first, but he wasn’t about to point it out. Eddie sees the book hidden under a lighter he used last night.

Smoking seemed obvious to him. He couldn’t sleep, so he would light up. With Wayne home, though, Eddie didn’t want the smell getting to him. He’s pretty sure Wayne knows he smokes by now, and he doesn’t care. Eddie isn’t a reckless smoker by any means, and he keeps to himself. If Wayne found out he was selling, that would be a different story.

Never the less, Eddie reads page after page of the same book he’s been fascinated by for weeks. He immerses himself into the books wishing he could be the hero, rather than the one who runs in the face of danger.

Eddie hears your front door open and close. This interests him and tips his head up. Tossing the book aside like he’s suddenly been hypnotized, he looks through his window.

You’re on the porch in thin pajamas and a robe. A lit cigarette slots between your fingers. You only smoke when you’re stressed. Pacing back and forth, Eddie understands that you’re talking to yourself. He just can’t make out the words.

This is creepy. Eddie shuts his window, and sinks back in bed. Leaving you alone - leaving you alone.

The words in his book blur into blobs of unrecognizable text. All he can see right now is you on that porch. You’re alone - and you’re probably cold. He has a blanket that he could offer. Maybe he could- no, he is leaving you alone.

Eddie wants to untangle the knot he has in his belly. He even tries to convince himself that he’s still hungry. But, he knows he won’t eat. You’re there. Even if you were caked in mud, you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Actually, he has seen you caked in mud before. You were definitely hot then too.

Oh, God. What was he doing?

Pulling open his closet now, Eddie finds a jacket to slip on over his pajamas. He takes an extra blanket with him. It’s a bit torn up, but the blanket is clean. Wayne washed the blanket a couple of days ago, along with Eddie’s sheets which he claimed he could smell from across town. Eddie was not that dirty. It was the weed - but, er - don’t ask about the stains. He doesn’t know what they are or where they came from. Seriously, don’t ask.

Wayne is still snoring in the living room. He mutters in his sleep when Eddie opens the front door, and he doesn’t see Wayne stir once the door shuts.

His uncle stretches, and wakes up enough to take a leak in his bathroom. By the time he returns to the living room, he catches a glimpse from the window in the living room. His boy is with you on your porch making you smile and making you blush.

Wayne doesn’t need to spy. He’s seen this movie before when his brother made moves on his girl. It’d be a few more years until Eddie is born, but the picture is already there.

“Atta boy,” Wayne cheers to himself.

Eddie’s sitting with you, and sharing a cigarette. You’re not sleeping either. Dried black makeup you haven’t smudged off is stuck under your eyes. He wants to swipe it away, but he doesn’t know if he should.

“Is your mom in tonight?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head. “No, but my dad is such a deep sleeper. He’s nothing to worry about.”

Eddie worries about your dad catching him there with his only daughter, then your mom who likes to call you both “crazy kids.” Your dad is stern. Overprotective. He’s jokes about having a gun locked away somewhere, but Eddie still has no idea if he is joking. You won’t tell him because truthfully you don’t know.

“What’s got you up?” Eddie brings the blanket closer to you because he sees your shoulders dance.

You shake your head blowing out smoke to the left where Eddie isn’t.

Eddie takes a drag from the cigarette after he says, “I don’t think I’ve been all that honest with you.”

He reads your face.

“Not like that,” he can’t look at you, so he counts the floorboards of your porch. “I said we’re okay, but I don’t think we are.”

Your heart skips in your chest. “What do you mean?”

While Eddie might not be able to look at you, your eyes are all on him. In the moonlight, he’s like this shiny thing. You can’t put your thoughts into words, but he’s carved by the shine of the moon. He might hide his face with his hair, but when he hunches over you relax a bit.

You haven’t been able to put yourself in bed. Knowing that Eddie was there had wrecked your mind. You’re itching to be near him.

The whole day you thought about nothing, but him. How unsatisfied you are with your earlier conversation. You thought being the one to take charge in the conversation, and assert yourself, might make the blow easier. Truthfully, it hurt even worse.

You spent the evening sobbing in your room like a baby. Friends. You signed your name at the bottom of that contract. But, then, you thought about the day you’ll find a nice boy that will like you back. You’ll get married. You’ll get a house. Everything will be okay. But, as you thought about your life, your mind wondered about Eddie. What happens when he finds a girl? He’ll have a wife and he’ll have a house too.

You’ll be at that wedding. Sitting in a chair that’s not too close to the front, but also not all the way in the back. The band sits in front of you. They might not be able to pronounce the brand name, but their check cashes on their suits. All of your friends are his friends.

Eddie’s fiancé is faceless, but her gown is breathtaking. They’ll say ‘I do.’

You’ll cry along with them, but the tears you shed are ones you let out at a funeral. Are you just supposed to sit there and pretend like you don’t want to throw up?

Because that’s not you standing at the alter.

That’s some chick he’s met on the road while he tours with the band. Sure she’s great. But, the sight sickens you. Maybe that means your selfish, but you can’t do this. You can’t see Eddie with another woman. You refuse to see it because Eddie’s always been with you.

“I’m sorry?” You’ve spaced out while Eddie is speaking.

He begins to say, “please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Throwing the cigarette to the ground, you stamp out the flame. You wrap your hands around his neck, and you pull him forward. Eddie's lips meet yours in an awaited embrace. Longing and passionate. His hands burrow into your hair pulling you ever closer. The tender touch of his fingers fall to your waist to tell you he's not going anywhere.

You can't be sure which one of you pull away first. But, when your eyes open you breathe a sigh of relief. Eddie is still there, and he's about as hot in the face as you feel. You let out a breathy laugh, and he hides his grin behind his hair.

It doesn't take long for him to ask,

"Can I take you out sometime?"

And, of course, you say. "Yes!"

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia @sofaritsalrightt @thisisktrying @somethingvicked @sebastiansstanswhore

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Pt 3: October Surprises and Secrets Slurred ✨

dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

-Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

-Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

-Word Count: 13.2k

- Tags: Porn with Plot, dbf! Joel, fingering, oral, face riding, dirty talk, dom! Joel, (reader is 25, Joel is mid 40’s)

- Chapter Summary: Your relationship gets more heated with a lot more intimacy going on between you and Joel, but will you finally get caught?

- A/N: I love this series so much and can’t wait to bring you more filthy scenes between these two 🤭 Sorry not sorry this chapter is so long, it’s worth it 😉 Reblogs are appreciated and I always love seeing your comments ❤️

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

October rushes through Austin as the cool, autumn breeze whisks through your soft curls. The campus is buzzing with focused, anxious students who rush to get last minute papers and assignments in for midterms. You have been diligent and already turned in your law papers, so you’re now free of midterm anxiety, unlike the other students in your classes.

The historic, massive library is filled up with laptops splayed all over tables and empty Starbucks coffee cups that sit next to their cramped hands that struggle to keep writing in notebooks. Sunlight beams through the stained-glass windows as you pass through the library, making your way out into the cold to go find your car somewhere in the mix of all the campus traffic.

As you open the library doors, you get a shot of cold air that blows right through your purple cardigan, and you wrap it around yourself to try to keep the chill from seeping down into your bones. When you cross campus, your mind wonders to Joel and how much you want to see his handsome face right now. The thought of his massive hands cupping your chin and those pretty coffee colored eyes staring down at you make you shiver with anticipation.

Joel, Joel, Joel. He’s always on your mind, never letting a minute pass without him there. You both can’t leave each other alone, not able to go a day without speaking to one another. He always asks if you have plans after school or when your shift gets over at the coffee shop off Main Street. It’s almost like you’re a normal couple. Almost. There’s just that itch behind your ear that’s always buzzing when you’re with him. That loud, annoying ringing in your ears that reminds you that you’re sneaking around your parents, mostly your dad. You honestly have no idea how he would react to the news, so you’d hide it for as long as you could. Your mom might take it lighter, but your dad. He might actually lose it, and you do not want to see that happen.

When you get to your shining Nissan Rouge and hear the click of the unlocked door, you jump in and slam the door shut, throwing your belongings over in the passenger seat. As you put the silver key in the ignition and turn, it barely hums to life and then dies again. The glowing orange check engine light blinks in front of you, and you pound your hands on the sleek steering wheel.

“No, fuck! Please, work for me,” you beg as you turn the key and try again, praying for a miracle. The engine spurts out a pathetic, muffled sound and then magically starts up as the car hums to life once again. “Oh, thank God,” you sigh as you wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Joel. He’d know what to do. You pull out your phone and dial Joel’s number in a hurry, trying to keep your patience as you tap your nails on the black steering wheel. Joel picks up on the third ring.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he drawls into the phone, his voice sounding like thick honey and sinking its way down into the pit of your stomach where warmth spreads.

“Hi, handsome,” you respond, a small smile spreading quickly over your face as the sound of his deep voice automatically soothes you.

“How was school? You get all your essays turned in? I don’t even have to ask, you already did. Didn’t you?” he asks with the sound of a light, raspy laugh on the end of the line.

“Just got them in today, actually,” you smile.

“Look at you gettin’ them in early. Such a smart girl, aren’t ya?” he purrs, making you bite your lip in response to the audible praise.

“Mhm,” you hum, your voice suddenly turning shaky as you look at the glowing engine light that warns you you shouldn’t be driving the car right now. Joel notices your shift in tone and responds with an edge to his voice.

“Everything alright, darlin’?” he asks concerned. It gives you goosebumps the way he’s always so protective, so careful of you.

“Umm-I’m fine, it’s just my car. My check engine light came on just now, and a few minutes ago I couldn’t even get it to start,” you respond back carefully with furrowed brows.

“Oh, shit. That ain’t good. You need a ride home? I can come get you-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “No, no. You’re at work, and my car came back on.”

“Darlin’, I don’t care that I’m at work. I don’t want ya drivin’ if it ain’t safe,” he says with a serious tone. You can tell he’s getting worked up, the way his breath falters and his sighs come out deep and clipped.

“Joel, really. I’m not that far from campus. I can make it home. Promise,” you respond with a more lighthearted response, hoping that Joel will settle with that answer.

“I don’t know if-”

You cut him off again. “Really, it’s fine. I’ll make it home,” you push.

You hear a long sigh and you can visually see him running his thick fingers through his patchy salt and pepper scruff. The vision of it makes warmth spread against your thighs as you squeeze your legs shut tight. “Fine, but I’m lookin’ at your car tomorrow and fixin’ it. S’not safe for you to be drivin’ it with your check engine light on,” he says with a raspy huff.

“Oh, you’re gonna fix it for me?” you ask with a stupid grin planted on your face.

“Mhm, gonna try my damn hardest to,” he replies as he clears his throat.

“And what do I owe you for your services, Mr. Miller?” you ask in a flirtatious voice.

You hear his low chuckle in the receiver, and it makes you giggle in response. “You don’t owe me nothin’, sweetheart. Just wanna make sure you’re safe,” he says with a light laugh. The sound makes your heart pound against your chest. Sweetheart. Safe. The words nearly take you out. He’s such a gentleman.

“Alright,” you say with a giggle. “I guess I’ll let you get back to work,” you sigh, not wanting to hang up on the handsome man that has your heart beating erratically for those gorgeous honey brown eyes.

“You be careful goin’ home, darlin’. Text me as soon as you make it there. I mean it,” he says with a serious, clipped tone.

“I promise,” you say back in a non serious tone.

“Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you later, beautiful. Remember, as soon as you get home,” he reminds you with a knowing tone in his voice.

“You got it. I’ll talk to you later,” you slur into the phone.

“Alright. Bye, gorgeous.” With that he hangs up the phone as you hear the line click dead. You throw your phone in the passenger seat and turn up the radio as Breaking Benjamin blares through the loud speakers. You nod your head to the beat and start to drive off, praying the car gets you there in one piece.

The glowing check engine light stays on the entire drive home, but you make it back safely. You park the car in the hooded garage and turn off the engine, letting it sit idle in the cool room. Whenever you make it through the door, you run straight into your dad as he almost spills his hot coffee all over his pressed white shirt.

“Shit, sorry dad! Didn’t see you there,” you apologize with frantic hands that steady the coffee cup in his hand.

“Careful now, I have a Zoom meeting in five minutes!” he sighs with the hint of agitation in his voice.

“Sorry, dad,” you apologize again.

Before you head to your room, you turn and tell your dad about your messed up car. “Oh, dad, before I forget to tell you. Joel’s coming over tomorrow to take a look at my car. The check engine light came on, and he’s gonna try to fix it for me,” you say lightly.

“Why didn’t you just ask me first? I could’ve taken a look. You sure asked Joel pretty quick there,” he says with his eyebrow raised and the hint of suspicion in there.

You gulp and try not to let your widening eyes give you away. “Oh, uhhh. I just thought you’d be too busy to take a look at it, and you know how good he is with fixing cars,” you shrug innocently.

“And you thought he’d be less busy than me tomorrow?” he asks with the tic of his jaw and wondering eyes staring questionably at you.

Your heart is in your chest and you feel the faint drops of sweat forming on your forehead. “I mean, I just didn’t want to bother you is all. Figured once I told you then you’d just tell me to ask Joel anyways,” you lie with a straight face, keeping your composure together.

He looks at you a few seconds and then nods, face relaxing a little. “Yeah, you’re definitely right, hun. That’s exactly what I would’ve done. Alright, well I need to hop on this call, so I’ll see you later.”

He turns into the direction of his office and you round the corner into the entryway and relax against the wall, breathing out a long sigh of relief. That was close. Too close for comfort.

You head up the stairs and back into your bedroom filled with lilac walls and scents of vanilla and citrus hanging in the air. Apartments. You need to find an apartment and fast.

The air is stuffy and hot in the garage, even though the autumn breeze blows gently outside as it carries red and golden leaves across the driveway. You’re wearing a light blue hoodie and cut off black denim shorts while you sit atop the wooden workbench in your garage. You gently kick your dangling legs off the side of the workbench and stare at the most gorgeous man working on your car. Joel Miller.

You watch the way he picks apart every single wire and car part he can get his hands on. His tousled dark curls sit slicked back against the top of his head by sweat that cakes his forehead, his grey t-shirt bunches around his thick arms every time he flexes and reaches under the hood, and his hands stay covered in grease and dirt from tearing apart your car piece by piece.

You can’t help but gawk at how ridiculously hot he is right now, can’t help the way you bite your lower lip seductively and run your tongue across the bottom of your lip in hopes to get a taste of him. You start to wonder what it’d be like to be bent over the hood of your car while he takes you from the back, start to imagine how good it’d feel to have his thick cock between your slick center as he fucks you senseless into oblivion. Can’t help the burning need in between your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and choke down a moan as slick starts to pool in the center of your lacy underwear.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he asks with concern hinting in his voice as he washes his hands in the garage sink, stepping closer to you as he wipes his hands off on a bunched up rag. “You look a little flushed there,” he says as he steps in front of you, just a few inches from meeting your knees.

“Umm, yeah. I’m fine. Just got a little hot, I guess,” you gasp out, nervously panting as your jaw drops open.

He slides up to you and stops right in front of your thighs, locking his knees up with yours as his t-shirt sticks against his broad chest and bulging biceps. You can’t help but stare at him and his pretty brown eyes with flecks of gold that sneak out and catch you unawarely. You want to run your fingers through his messy greying hair, want to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him until you taste every single part of him as you unravel yourself around him.

“Why don’t you close your jaw, sweetheart. Gonna start drooling if you keep it up,” he smirks as he cups your chin and helps you close. You swallow away all the heat and try to calm yourself as he stands before you, but you can’t. He’s too much, too fucking much.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” you say flirtatiously as you bat your long eyelashes at him, feeling your blush paint the edges of your cheeks crimson.

“You gonna tell me what you were thinkin’ about?” he asks with the tic of his jaw, leaning his weight against the bench as his hand gently brushes your hip.

“I was just thinking how hot you looked leaning over the hood of my car. And your messy curls, how I want to run my fingers through them right about now,” you smile as he leans against you, taking his other hand and placing it against the top of your thigh as he gently runs his rough hand down to your knee.

“Oh, yeah? S’that right?” he laughs as he takes his other hand and pushes your thighs apart, stepping in between them as he runs calloused fingers up and down your smooth skin, turning your breaths ragged from the heat of his massive hands on you.

“Mhm,” you choke out, already worked up from his light flirting and the weight of his thick fingers on you.

“What else were ya thinkin’ about, hmmm?” he hums out, his eyes growing darker by the second.

“I was thinking…” you start as you run your fingers through his damp curls, making him groan as your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. “How good it’d feel if you fucked me on the hood of my car,” you purr, whispering into his ear seductively. You feel the bulge in his jeans already starting to form, feel how turned on he’s getting at the thought of you spread wide open for him on the top of your car.

“Christ, baby. Such a dirty girl, aren’t ya? Wantin’ me to fuck you senseless while I make you cum all over my cock. That’s what you want, ain’t it? To make you scream my name while I make you cum again and again and again…”

His voice lowers with a growl as he wraps his hands around your hips and drags you forward, ending right on the edge of the workbench as your legs clench around his back, his hands moving over the denim of your shorts as he snakes a hand up under the material, finding your soaked lace absolutely ruined for him.

You choke out a moan as he dips his fingers under your lace, slowly spreading your folds as his thumb finds your clit and circles you meticulously, stifling another moan out of you as you dig your fingers into his back and wrap your legs tighter around him.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Such a good girl. Always ready for me. Always so needy, ain’t that right?” he smirks as he continues circling you, making your heels dig into his back as you slide a hand through his messy curls and drop your lips to the shell of his ear. Ragged moans leave your lips as he pushes two fingers inside your dripping hole while his thumb continues dancing over your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Feels so good, daddy,” you pant, biting down on his earlobe as you hold in a loud moan while he circles you faster, getting you all worked up over him. You hear the sloshing noises of your wetness and his fingers pumping in and out of you, and it’s so fucking hot that more slick slides down your center as you start to come apart around him. You’re so close, almost there already.

“That’s right, baby. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he coos, curling up his fingers inside you as he hits the spongy part of your walls that elicit another moan deep into his ear as your toes curl in your Converse.

“Joellll,” you whine into his ear, dragging your fingers against the curls that sit matted to the back of his neck.

“What is it, baby? Can’t handle daddy’s fingers, huh?” he teases as his lips ghost across yours effortlessly. “Tell daddy what you want,” he smirks, speeding up the shift of his thumb against your aching clit.

“Want you…. oh, God,” you moan as he curls his fingers inside you nice and slow, moving them up further as you latch around him tighter.

“Go on, finish your sentence,” he smirks with clenched teeth as he works you over nice and thoroughly.

“Want you to fuck me,” you whine against the shell of his ear.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Can’t fuck you here, sweetheart. Don’t want your father findin’ you with my cock buried deep in that wet pussy now, do ya?”

You whine out as your breathing becomes hard to control, tattered moans filling his ear like a choir of angels. “No, don’t want that,” you gasp out, your fingers tangled in knots against the back of his soft t-shirt. “I want you though. Want you so fucking bad,” you groan as he continues building slick around his thick fingers.

“Wanna put this hard cock inside that pretty pussy of yours. Wanna fuck you so hard over this bench right now that you won’t be able to stand for the rest of the night. Wanna cum inside that drippin’ pussy while you moan my name as I take you from the back,” he growls as he fucks his fingers up inside you deeper, hitting the spongy area again and again as you feel your orgasm about to take flight.

“Want you to moan my name so loud when I make you cum that everyone in the neighborhood knows just who you belong to,” he growls with clenched teeth as he presses down harder on your clit, rubbing it in just the right area that you feel yourself start to spill. You feel the white hot heat start to take over as your eyes roll back and you clench up against his fingers that continuously curl up inside you.

“Joel, I’m… I’m coming,” you moan as you bite down on the scruff of his jaw, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you close your eyes and bite back your moan as you let him have it.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl. So good for me,” he praises as you take a few seconds to come out of your blissed out daze, his fingers gently releasing out of you as he brings them up to his mouth and sucks, staring at you with blown out pupils. Your eyes go wide as you watch him drink down your cum, humming to himself as he licks them clean.

“Taste s’good, darlin’. Can never get enough of you,” he purrs as he pulls your drenched underwear back over your cunt and straightens your shorts out again. You grab the back of his neck and pull him toward you, planting your lips over his as the taste of sweat, black coffee, and you enter your mouth. He wraps his hands around your hips and slithers his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste all of him as his senses envelop you, sweat and all.

Before you can get lost in him anymore, you hear the jostle of the doorknob and the squeaking hinges as the garage door starts to open. Joel jumps back out of your reach and grabs the bottle of synthetic oil off the back of the shelf, drawing his dark eyes away from you as you compose yourself with a quick breath and legs that clash together.

Your dad looks up at you with concerned eyes and purses his lips. “Honey, you feeling okay? Your face is all flushed and your eyes are so wide they look bloodshot.”

Your blood runs cold as you gulp down your nerves and flick your eyes over to Joel, watching as he stares at your idle car as he runs a hand nervously up the back of his neck. “I’m okay, dad. Just got a little too hot is all,” you say as you fan yourself with your hand, trying to get rid of the flush of your crimson cheeks.

“Oh, sorry about that sweetie. Want me to get you a bottle of water?” he asks with a gentle nod your way.

“Yeah. Thanks, dad.”

“Alright, honey. Be back in a minute.” He turns to Joel and slaps him on the back in a way that best friends only do. “How’s the car looking? Figure out what’s wrong?” he asks as he looks around the open hood of the car.

Joel loosens the top of the oil and sets it down beside the front wheel. “Yeah, there seemed to be some loose wires that got tangled around each other. I fixed ‘em. The serpentine belt looks to be pretty worn out, so I can stop at the hardware store tomorrow and get a new one. Should be an easy fix. And the car needs an oil change, so I’ll get that done real quick. Then it should be good to drive smoothly,” he says as he plays with the used towel in his hands.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Joel. You sure do take care of my little girl,” he smiles in thanks.

Joel smiles back and chuckles. “Anything for your daughter, George. I always got her back.” He turns your direction and winks at you secretly, making your cheeks turn bright red at the secret meaning behind his words.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller. Maybe one of these days I can get you to go on a date with one of Claire’s friends. Trust me, some of her friends already drool over you. Should ask one of them out. Could use a woman around the house. Maybe get you laid one of these days,” he teases as he claps a strong hand over Joel’s back.

Joel’s fists clench and his lips twitch at the mention of dating other women. You won’t lie, you feel a heavy weight against your chest and the tinge of jealousy runs hot down your throat. Joel would do no such thing. Mine.

“Nah, man. Thanks for the offer though. I’m good,” he responds. A breath you had been holding blows out, the wave of jealousy washing away as soon as he says the words.

“You sure? Wouldn’t hurt to at least have a night in with one of them. How long has it been, huh?”

“Dad!” you say forcefully, making both of them look your direction as you dig your nails into the wood, jaw locked into place. “Water?” you ask as you raise your eyebrows.

“Right, sorry. Be back in a minute.” With that he races back inside and slams the door shut.

“So, my dad’s trying to hook you up with one of my mom’s friends?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, mostly joking around with him.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. Already have my best girl right here,” he nods your way, curling his lips into a crooked smile. You can’t help but smile back at him and melt at his words. My best girl.

“That’s right. I’m your girl,” you say possessively.

“Damn straight you are,” he smirks, making butterflies flit through your stomach.

Your dad comes back with a cold bottle of water and leaves the two of you alone again, closing the door to go answer a phone call. As you let the fresh water quench your thirst, you watch Joel meander his way under your car, taking his time to change your oil out. You watch his soft t-shirt lift up just a tad, exposing thick dark hair that trails underneath the waistband of his jeans.

It takes everything in you not to go over and straddle him as he works, slipping your hand underneath his jeans as you pull his hard cock out and go down on him, taking him in your mouth nice and slow as you make his ropes of cum slide down the back of your throat. You hold back the temptation, knowing you can’t do that here. Not when your dad’s lurking around the corner of the house.

You sigh and watch him work, making light conversation with him as he puts the cap back on and crawls out from underneath the car. Grease stains his grey t-shirt, and he has a smudge of grease across his nose.

“Joel, come here. You’re a mess,” you giggle as you grab a towel from the metal shelf and jump down off the workbench, going over to stand in front of him. You wipe off the grease from his nose and wipe off his hands next, making sure you get off as much as you can.

“Baby, I could’ve done that,” he smiles as he grabs the towel from you, wiping off what he can from his ruined shirt.

“It’s fine, I wanted to help,” you shrug.

He looks at the grease stain on his finger for a second then back up at you, mischief written all over those hazy brown eyes.

You back up against the wall and raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning, Miller?” you ask suspiciously, holding in a laugh as you see the playful smirk pulling at his lips.

“Me, planning? Never,” he scoffs, the smirk planting firmly against the corners of his mouth. In a flash he cages you against the wall with his thick arms and smears some grease on your jawline. Your eyes go wide as he does it.

“Joel!” you whine as you push against his chest playfully. “That’s not funny,” you say as a giddy laugh escapes your throat.

“It ain’t funny, huh? Then why are you laughing?” he asks as a deep chuckle ruptures from his chest.

“Get it off, now,” you demand playfully as you try to grab the used tan towel from him. He grabs it back from you.

“I got it, I got it,” he laughs as he uses the pristine end of the towel to clean off the grease from your jawline. When he promises he got it, he throws the towel up on the workbench as you reel him in for a kiss. His lips are soft, plush, and they taste like Joel.

“Oh, that reminds me. I got somethin’ for ya,” he says as he breaks the kiss, digging around the back pocket of his dark faded jeans.

“You got me something?” you ask with a surprised lilt to your voice.

“Mhm,” he hums as he grabs his leather wallet and opens it up, digging around to find what he’s looking for.

“What’s the occasion?” you ask curiously, watching him dig around excitedly as his thick fingers push around old receipts and folded up papers.

“Don’t have to be an occasion to get ya somethin’, darlin’,” he chuckles. “But this is kind of an early birthday present, since your birthday’s next month.” He finally finds what he’s looking for and pulls out two tickets that have a matte gloss covering both sides. You flip them over and your eyes go wide at what the tickets say. Two general admission tickets to see Ghost at the Moody Center on November fourteenth sit carefully in your hands. You gulp back tears as you stand frozen in awe as you stare at the glossy tickets.

“Joel…” you gasp out, your eyes probably as wide as an owl right now.

“Thought you’d like ‘em. I know how much you’ve wanted to see ‘em for a long time. Took me a while to find out when they were gonna come to town, so I jumped at the chance when I saw ‘em post new tour dates. And Breaking Benjamin is gonna be their opener. I know how much you like them too and…”

You jump into his arms and wrap your hands around his neck as you thank him over and over again for the best gift ever. You grab his shirt and pull him in for a long kiss as you run your hands through his tousled curls. When you break the kiss, you stand back to look at him in his pretty face as your arms stay wrapped around his neck.

“You’re gonna take me to go see Ghost?” you ask sweetly with big eyes that water faintly.

“I’m gonna take ya to see Ghost,” he nods with a crooked smile as he looks down at you with brown doe eyes that you want to sink right into as they swallow you whole.

You pull him in for another long hug as his strong arms wrap around your waist. “You’re the sweetest, Joel,” you say as you plant your lips on his cheek, staying in his embrace for as long as you can.

“Anything for my girl,” he smiles as he cups your chin, bringing his lips down on yours again. When he pulls back, he keeps his calloused thumb trailing against your jawline, making you dizzy with lovesick thoughts.

“Hey, what’re you doin’ for Halloween?” he asks as he keeps his coffee eyes focused on you, his thumb trailing light circles across your cheekbone.

“I didn’t really have any plans. Sometimes my friends will drag me out to the bars or we’ll find a Halloween party to go to. How come?” you ask, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Umm well, you wanna come over to my place? We could watch some scary movies, make some popcorn, order a pizza. I know how much you like those classic horror movies. Would be nice to have some company,” he smiles shyly as the corners of his mouth rise up into a crooked grin. He’s perfect, so perfect.

“Joel Miller asking me to watch scary movies? You don’t even really like them,” you laugh as you hang around his neck, his left hand digging deeper into the side of your hip.

“Yeah, well. You rub off on me a lot. And besides, anything to make my girl happy. I jus’ like spending time with you is all, darlin’,” he drawls, his eyes glistening with flecks of light and dark brown mixing together to make a pretty coffee color. His crooked smile makes a dimple press against his cheek, and the lines against his eyes crinkle into complete warmth that fills the hard lines in his face. You think he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life. Because he is.

“Joel… you leave me speechless. Truly. I’m so, so lucky to have you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” you gush to him as you rest your forehead against his.

“No, darlin’. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

You stifle out a laugh and bring your lips down slowly over his, this kiss more slow and romantic than all the other ones. Who would’ve thought you and Joel Miller would’ve ever been a thing? But here you are. Completely and utterly wrapped up in each other, and you just can’t get enough.

You hear the jiggle of the door handle and see the door opening fast into the garage. You jump out of Joel’s grasp and take a few steps back, separating the distance between him even though it’s getting harder to act like the two of you aren’t completely crazy for each other. You’re out of breath, still dizzy from all the emotions of the last few minutes with Joel. And he looks the same, pupils dilated and a flushed face as he looks up at your father.

Your father stops and puts on his glasses to take a closer look. “Joel, you feeling okay? Your face is flushed too. You good?” he asks as he hands Joel a water.

“Yeah. Just got up too fast from under the car. Should be fine,” he nods as he flicks his eyes over to you, the look of affection returning to his brown doe eyes you can’t get enough of.

“Alright, well dinner’s ready if you wanna stay. She made chicken enchiladas tonight, so pretty sure you’ll wanna stay,” he laughs.

“Sure, wouldn’t miss those,” Joel nods as your dad smiles back at him.

“Well, come on. Come and get it while it’s hot.” Your dad turns toward the door and goes through, leaving it open for you and Joel to follow.

Joel takes your hand in his discreetly and leads you through, rubbing the pad of his calloused thumb against the back of your hand, making you feel all tingly and giddy inside. Before he drops your hand, he brushes your knuckles with his lips and places a slow kiss against the back of your hand. You blush on the spot and smile up at him as he returns one back, and then he drops your hand as he walks into the light of the dining room.

Fuck. You have it bad for Joel Miller and you’re falling fast. Very fast.

Halloween Night

You spend the entirety of the afternoon getting ready for your night in with Joel. You shower, douse yourself in Victoria’s Secret Bombshell perfume, and pick out the perfect Halloween costume to wear. You go with a short black mini dress that barely grazes your thighs, the long sleeves hanging off your shoulder that leave your neck and the tops of your shoulders exposed to the cool air.

You carefully fix your hair into loose spiral curls and secure a long pink bow in the back of your silky hair. You apply shimmery pink eyeshadow to the hoods of your eyelids, draw perfect cat eyes with liquid eyeliner, and purse your lips after applying the shiny pink lip gloss. After slipping on a pair of black heels, you look at yourself in the full length mirror and grab the pair of fuzzy black cat ears as you top off your costume. Joel’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this getup.

After nervously driving over to his house, you now stand on the front of his porch and wait for him to come open the door after you ring the doorbell. You pull on your sleeves, your legs shaking as the cold evening wind hits your bare legs. After a few seconds he opens the door and pulls it back.

“Hey, sweetheart. You…” His voice cuts off as his brown eyes go wide as he lets out a low whistle, slowly taking in your figure from head to toe.

You twirl around slowly for him, letting him see all of you and watch him fall apart. “Trick r treat,” you smirk. “Gonna give me something sweet to eat?” you purr, batting your dark lashes up at him sweetly.

You hear him curse quietly under his breath and watch him rake his hand slowly over his patchy beard. “Goddamn, darlin’. Such a pretty little kitty cat. And that dress, fuck,” he bites out as he gazes his dark eyes over your long legs. “Prettiest girl that ever stood in my doorway, that’s for sure. C’mere,” he calls as he grabs your waist and pulls you into his broad chest, pressing his lips against yours as you chase the taste of his black coffee scent you so desperately love.

When you pull away you click your tongue at him. “Thought you were supposed to have a costume on today?” you say with a raised brow, playfully pushing at his chest.

“This is my costume,” he replies with an amused expression on his face.

Your eyes trail down him slowly. He wears a Halloween black t-shirt, an open red flannel, and dark blue jeans that form against his muscular thighs. You shake your head and pull off your cat ears, placing them over his tousled dark curls as you position it to balance on his head perfectly.

You laugh as you take in the big, strong man with the fluffy cat ears on. “There. Now you have a costume on,” you giggle as he just shakes his head and pulls you inside while he shuts the door behind him.

“Funny, very funny,” he chuckles, a dimple forming against his cheek which makes you only melt more for him. “Wanna take ‘em back now?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, holding a laugh in as you watch him examine his face in the mirror, sighing as he takes in the fuzzy ears atop his head.

“I look ridiculous,” he groans, crossing his arms over his chest as his biceps pull at the red flannel, making you anxious to curl up against them on the couch.

“No, you’re adorable,” you respond, lingering your hand against his soft t-shirt as you curl your hand around it.

“Don’t think so, darlin’. That’s all you. You gorgeous girl,” he says with a low drawl, his caramel eyes honing in as he backs you up against the wooden staircase, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. Before he leans in, the front door twists open and he pulls away from you in a hurry, putting as much distance between the two of you before Sarah walks in.

Your eyes grow wide as you weren’t expecting her to be here tonight. Sarah gasps as her eyes flick from you to Joel, clearly confused on what’s going on. Her long curls fall over her shoulders as she stands in a Cowboys jersey and black yoga pants with war paint smeared across her cheeks.

She says your name with questions ringing in her tone. “What are you doing here? On Halloween? Shouldn’t you be at a party or something?” she asks as she looks over your outfit carefully, her eyes going over to Joel as she takes in the cat ears that sit perched atop his head.

“Uh dad, why are you wearing those?” she asks as a giggle sounds loudly across the lit up hall.

He throws the ears off and hands them back to you, running a hand through his messy curls as he works to stay composed. “Don’t worry about it,” he says defensively. “And she came over so I could work on her car,” he confirms.

“But you just fixed her car a few days ago?” she says with raised brows, her eyes flicking back and forth between you and him.

“Uhhh yeah. But the light came back on this morning, so I brought it over. Joel said he could take a look real quick. I was just about to head back out. Shouldn’t take too long,” you say with a calm, collected demeanor, giving nothing away.

She eyes you both suspiciously and finally nods. “Okay then. Whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “But anyways, look at you! That outfit is so hot, my dad would never let me wear anything like that,” she pouts, crossing her arms over the orange jersey as it scrunches up underneath her.

“Maybe when you’re thirty,” he teases. She just shakes her head and sticks her tongue out at him. He chuckles out a deep laugh in response.

“Whateverrrrr,” she drawls out. She turns back to you and beams her pearly white smile as her curls bounce up and down as she moves. “Bet you’ve got all the boys wrapped around your finger in that outfit,” she smirks out. Joel’s eyes grow a shade darker as he focuses on you, trying his best not to say a word in response.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Maybe just one,” you smirk, your eyes flicking over to his brown irises as you face Sarah again, careful not to give anything away.

“Oooooo you have a boyfriend? Why haven’t I met him? Is he cute? Is he a good kisser?!” she yells excitedly as she hounds you for information.

“Sarah!” Joel warns, telling her to calm down as his eyes narrow over her.

“Sorry,” she whines, giving you a small smile as you return one to her.

“What are you doin’ back here? Thought you were goin’ to your friend’s to go trick r treatin’?” he asks with raised brows, hands on his hips as his jaw clenches up.

“I am. Just forgot to grab my purse,” she says as she reaches around you and grabs her purple over the shoulder purse and heads back to the door. “Alright, heading back out. Guess I’ll see you sometime soon?” she asks as she looks over at you behind her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will,” you nod her way, waving a quick goodbye to her.

“Sarah?” Joel calls before she heads out the door.

“Yeah?” she asks before closing the door.

“Not too late, alright?” Joel says with his brows furrowed together.

“Yeah, be back before midnight,” she promises.

“Sarah?” he calls out again, making her groan at the name.

“Huh?”

“Love you,” he says softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his face relaxes into happiness.

She smiles gently and nods. “Love you too, dad.” With that she closes the door and runs off to the burgundy Cadillac that awaits her out front.

You can’t help but smile at Joel, butterflies flitting through your stomach as you take in his soft side. He’s always so careful and gentle with Sarah, always telling her how much he loves her. He’s such a softie, and you can’t help but fall for him even more as you watch him.

“What?” he asks as he snakes his arms around your waist, backing you up against the stairwell again.

“You’re such a softie,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck while you run your fingers through the scruff on his neck.

“Only for Sarah and you,” he grins, dropping his lips down to yours as you drink him in again, feeling every surface of his plush lips against yours.

He breaks the kiss after a few seconds and pulls you into the living room. “C’mon. I’ll get the movie started then I’ll call in a pizza for us. Pepperoni?” he asks as he leads you over to the cream colored couch and sits you down against the soft cushions.

“Pepperoni,” you nod. He turns on the tv and pulls his phone out, heading into the kitchen as he calls Pizza Hut and places an order to be delivered to the house.

You take in your surroundings of the darkened room. Vanilla candles sit sprawled against the glass coffee table, the large display of the tv glows in the near distance as the menu comes up for the movie Scream. You hear Joel in the other room hang up the phone as he places it down on the counter.

“You want some popcorn, baby?” he asks from the other room, his voice carrying into the living room like a song you want to put on repeat.

“Mhm and a Dr. Pepper, please,” you call back.

“I gotcha, baby. Be right there.”

When the popcorn is done popping and the cans of soda are taken out of the fridge, he joins you on the couch and places one hand on your thigh as the other one presses play on the remote, making the movie hum to life as the beginning titles show across the lit up screen.

You take a sip of Dr. Pepper and pop some popcorn into your mouth as the buttery taste slides down your throat conveniently. You curl your legs onto the couch and fold yourself against Joel, letting your arms wrap around him as his arm flexes behind you. He pulls you tight to his side as his hand runs gently up and down your arm, causing your body to fully relax against him as you breathe in his cologne and woodsy scent. He smells like a piece of heaven, your piece of heaven.

He takes a drink of his Dr. Pepper and places it on the coffee table, leaning back into you as he adjusts himself into the back of the cushions and lays a soft kiss against the top of your head, making you melt beneath him.

When the scene of Ghostface asking Casey what her favorite scary movie is comes up, Joel mimics his voice and asks you the same thing in a more southern, non scary tone. “What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asks mysteriously as you giggle into his chest.

“You should know this one,” you answer back, eyes flicking up to his as he looks you over carefully before responding.

“Halloween,” he answers automatically.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner,” you yell out, pulling a laugh from deep within his chest as you hear it rumble against your ear.

“Knew it,” he says proudly. “And what’s mine?”

You lay your head in his lap and look up at him, deep brown eyes staring down at you as he awaits your answer. He’s so pretty that it physically hurts. “Joel, The Lord of the Rings does not count as a scary movie,” you laugh out as he smiles down at you.

“Sure it does. It has spiders, orcs, dark themes.”

You push his chest playfully. “It’s fantasy. This is a scary movie,” you remark as you point to the tv, watching Ghostface chase his victim across the yard.

“Yeah, well. Still,” he vocalizes with a sigh. “Would you watch all of ‘em with me?” he asks faintly, his chocolate eyes glazing down to yours.

You turn to him and nod. “Of course I would. I’d watch amything with you,” you reply with a smile.

The corners of his lips curl up into a soft smile and he leans down and kisses you without holding back at all. He tangles his fingers in your curls and you open your mouth up, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth as he finds your tongue, dancing around as you drink down the taste of him slowly, passionately.

One hand slides down to your thigh as he grazes calloused fingers up and down your inner thigh, making you breathe heavier as he bites at your lower lip, heating up the room as the two of you start to get lost in each other. His hand reaches up, up, gently sliding the edge of your dress up your thigh, working his way nice and slow to where he wants to be. To your aching center that yearns for his touch.

Before he can make it any further, the doorbell rings, forcing the two of you apart as you lift up off his lap. He sighs as he pushes off the couch, muttering something under his breath that sounds like a complaint of interrupting him when he was busy with you. You giggle at his ramblings and wait till he comes back.

You hear the exchange of pizza and money and can smell the fresh cheese and pepperoni that wafts through the air of the dark living room. After another minute, Joel comes in and sets the pizza on the coffee table, telling you to eat up. You grab a slice and take a bite, letting the warm goodness fill your stomach as you set your eyes on the movie again, trying to keep focus on that instead of the handsome menace of a man that sits next to you.

“So, what’s so attractive about a killer that wears a mask? I don’t get it. With all the viral videos of masked men goin’ around, I don’t get the fuss. I even catch Sarah’s friends talking ‘bout it sometimes.” Joel shakes his head and takes another bite out of his pepperoni slice.

You giggle in response. “I don’t know. Guess that’s kind of a part of the dark romance culture now and can be kinda thrilling? A masked man in the bedroom. I mean, I get why they like it. It’s just something new and intriguing, a little dangerous, exciting even…” You stop there, not wanting to give away that you too might have a mask kink.

“Oh, is that right?” Joel smirks deviously, one of his eyebrows rising higher as he looks directly at you. “You into that shit, too?” he asks curiously as he takes his last bite, lapping his tongue along his lower lip and wiping away the last evidence of red sauce from his mouth. You try your best not to bite your lip, wanting to lick every single scrap of sauce off him slowly.

“I mean, I get the hype. Guess it would be kind of hot,” you blush, looking down at your lap to hide the crimson of your cheeks.

“I knew it,” he says as he claps a big hand on his thigh in knowing. “So you’re saying if I ever bought one of those dumb masks, you’d want me to wear it in the bedroom?” he asks as his eyebrows go up curiously while his hand digs into the back of the couch forcefully.

“I think I’d just prefer to see your handsome face, Joel. Besides, I don’t see you doing that anyways,” you laugh and hit him playfully in the shoulder.

“You’re right, darlin’. Don’t think I’d do that either,” he chuckles.

“But,” you lean into his chest and press your glossy lips to the shell of his ear seductively. “Think I’d let you put me in some handcuffs though,” you purr out as you tug on his earlobe and pull back with a sly smirk on your face.

You see the way his pupils expand and the way his chest rises and falls deeper as the blood flows thicker in the veins of his neck. You see the way he adjusts himself on the couch and clears his raspy throat. You started something, and now he’ll have to finish it.

You smile to yourself triumphantly and turn to face the tv, scooting up to the edge as you reach for your Dr. Pepper and take a refreshing sip, setting it back down on the glass coffee table when you’re done.

You hear Joel’s voice come out raspy and deep behind you. “Is that right, sweetheart? You’d let me handcuff those pretty wrists to my headboard?”

You squirm on the edge of the couch and press your legs together, feeling the heat start in your center like a volcano that’s about to rupture. “Mhmm,” you hum out carefully, trying to suppress a moan from coming out of your throat.

“Hmmm.” He leans over and presses his lips against the shell of your ear, his hot breath breathing down your neck and making you feel things you can’t control. “Think I need to go buy a pair of handcuffs then, sweetheart. Show you all the ways I can make you cum while you’re tied to my bed. What do ya think of that, huh? Sounds… erotic as hell,” he whispers darkly in your ear, leaving you panting for more as you keep your eyes focused on the movie on the big screen, watching Ghostface run down the stairs after his next victim mercilessly. He presses a gentle kiss against your cheek and scoots back into the couch, leaving you breathless and wanting.

Just when you think he’s done teasing you, he starts playing with your pink ribbon and runs his hands through your long waves, making your heartbeat gallop like the hooves of a racing Clydesdale against his touch.

“Such a pretty pink ribbon in your hair, baby,” he teases, starting to tug on your hair harder now as he pulls lightly on the curls.

“Mhm, it is,” you reply with a breath held.

“You know I love when you do your hair like this, in these curls. So long and soft to the touch. Can easily do this.” He tugs your head back and pushes you down into the couch. Your hands grip the side of the couch while your ass is up in the air, exposing all for Joel to see.

You feel his hands raise your skirt up to your hips, exposing the meaty flesh of your ass as you feel the cool air brush against the backs of your bare thighs. You hear Joel hum out in approval as he fixes his massive hands over your ass, one hand trailing down as his fingers brush the soaked material of your lace which makes a groan escape your lips.

“White lace, huh? Looks s’good on you, sweetheart. Already so wet for me, ain’t ya? Look at you drip, so fuckin’ wet, baby. Goddamn,” he whistles as he takes his thumb and trails a long line down your center, gathering more slick against the material. You whine out and he chuckles lightly.

“S’right, baby. Gonna make you really whine in a minute,” he murmurs as he slides the wet lace down your legs, gently unclasping your black heels and dropping them to the floor as he unhooks the lace from around your ankles and disposes them on the ground, leaving you completely bare for him to look at.

He slides his calloused thumb over your wetness, and you shiver with need. “Joel, please,” you beg, another whine purring out of you as you feel the pad of his thumb ghost across your clit, leaving you with a pent up cry in your chest.

“What do ya need, baby? Tell me,” he asks, barely touching your folds with the tops of his fingertips which makes you clench up over nothing.

“Need your fingers, your mouth,” you beg, your voice high-pitched from want. With need.

“That so, darlin’?” he teases as he spreads your folds with the tips of his index and middle finger, sliding them up until you can feel them pressed against your clit, drawing slow, meticulous circles as you hear the wetness gathering on his fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as you dig your fingers into the side of the couch, clawing your light pink fingernails as a way to get ahold of yourself before you’re lost into a sea of lust.

“S’right, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need,” he coos.

Before he takes it any further, he drops his hand from your center and lays back against the couch, leaving you out of breath and waiting. “Why’d you stop?” you whine as you turn in the direction he’s in and see him smirking up at you with trouble written all over his face.

“C’mere,” he calls as he curls his index finger in his direction, beckoning you to come over to him.

You look questionably at him and raise a brow. “What?” you ask as you slowly scoot your legs over his, dropping down on his hips carefully.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Not there, sweetheart. Up here,” he smirks as he points to his face. Your eyes go wide at the meaning.

“You want me to…” you trail off, unable to finish your sentence.

“S’right. Want you to sit on my face. C’mon now,” he smirks, a devilish grin taking over his face as his eyes grow dark. He places his hands on your hips as he slides you up his broad chest, stopping just before you get to his neck. You pause right there, blushing as all of a sudden you get extremely nervous.

“Joel…” you choke out, unable to finish your sentence.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he says gently, lifting your dress above your hips as it exposes your bareness for him. He drags his eyes down your center and licks his lips, his eyes blown out as you feel his breath pick up beneath his chest. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. Drippin’ and screamin’ my name,” he groans as his eyes devour you in full. “C’mon now. Sit on my face,” he demands.

You gulp and scoot your hips up, hovering just above his mouth as you stay there, nervous and turned on at the same time.

“I didn’t say hover, sweetheart. I said sit,” he demands, digging his hands into your hips as he tries to lower you down, but you hold back, afraid to crush him.

“But won’t I crush you?” you ask with your breath caught in your throat.

“The only thing that’s gonna crush me is if you don’t sit the fuck down and ride on my face. Now sit!” he growls as he forces your weight down on top of him, the curls above your mound sitting atop his curved nose as he breathes you in deeply.

He inhales your savoury scent and drags his rough tongue all the way from your dripping hole to the tops of your folds, catching the end of your clit as you whine out with need.

“Goddamn, baby. Taste and smell s’good, darlin’. Hold on tight. Not gonna stop till I make you cum all over my face, not gonna stop till you moan my name, not gonna stop till you’re all mine,” he growls as he hooks his arms around your thighs and dives back in.

He slowly drags his tongue over all of you, slotting himself between your folds and lapping meticulous circles around your puffy clit. You feel more slick spill out of you and feel him take your bundle of nerves into his mouth, sucking and slurping as every single nerve ending comes alive against his mouth. When he releases, he shoves his tongue into your wet hole, plunging into your core as you vibrate and fall apart against him.

You twist your fingers into his tousled curls and moan his name with a lull, lost in complete bliss as he works his tongue up and down up and down, making the room foggy with the smell of your arousal and the loud moans you’re giving him. “Joellll, fuck,” you moan as you pull at his hair, sliding yourself up and down his mouth as you ride his face exactly like he wants you to.

He groans at your movements, groans at the way you tug on his curls as his tongue works and works to make you fall apart around him. He slaps your ass hard and digs his nails into your thighs as he speeds up his hot tongue.

He’s pulling, sucking, munching at your clit as you feel the building orgasm. You feel it start in your spine, sliding down to rest in the pit of your stomach as you’re almost there, feel it about to take flight as your toes curl and your fingers slip deeper into his wild locks. He knows you’re close, knows exactly what he’s doing. He can’t speak, too far gone in pleasuring you with his mouth, too deep with sucking your throbbing bundle of nerves again and again as his nail beds prod into your flesh.

He loves to feel you come apart, loves to taste your arousal drip down his throat, loves to hear you moan and thrive while you’re about to come undone, and loves when you pull his hair and moan his name while he has his way with you.

You grind your pussy against his mouth, feel how soaked you’re getting him, and it just makes you that much closer to spilling yourself all over him. You feel him groan against your folds, hear him practically whisper the words into your ear as he licks and sucks you repeatedly into his drooling mouth.

Atta girl. There ya go.

Say my name, sweetheart.

C’mon. Give it to me. That’s a good fuckin’ girl.

He pulls your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks hard, setting off every single nerve ending in your body. He sucks nice and slow and you feel yourself fall apart right there on his hot tongue. You roll your hips and feel the heat slide down your body as you clench over nothing and spill yourself all over his mouth, hearing his groan as he laps up all your slick while you fist his hair roughly through your fingers.

You take a minute to let your panting die out and wait for your body to come back down to earth after your intense face riding orgasm. When you slide back to rest on his chest, you see just how drenched and glistening his mouth and beard are from all your slick and cum. And fuck is it hot.

He smiles up at you as he catches his breath, his blown out pupils relaxing into pure brown warmth as he watches you with admiration on his face. It’s probably the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“Rode me s’good, baby. Love the taste of you,” he hums, his crows feet crinkling up at the corners of his eyes as you get lost in those pools of warm honey.

“Yeah, well, I have an excellent instructor with an experienced tongue,” you purr, winking down at him with a big smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles and responds, “Always happy to put my tongue to good use. Especially for you.”

You bite your lower lip and grin down at him, completely entranced by him. You’re so lucky, so fucking lucky. The luckiest girl in the world.

You shift off him and start to turn the other way as you move your legs away from his chest. Before you can crawl to the other side of the couch, he grabs your calves and pulls you back toward him. “Now where do you think you’re goin’, sweetheart?” he asks with an edge to his voice.

“Huh? What do you mean?” you ask as his large hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you back up to him as he tangles you around the roots of him, firmly planting you to his chest.

“M’not done with you yet, baby girl. You’re gonna give me another one,” he purrs, his deep voice thundering out of his chest like a bear ready to attack.

“Another one? But I’m… I’m so sensitive and…”

He shuts you up quick. “No, you’re not too sensitive. I know what you can handle, and you’re gonna fuckin’ take it like the good girl I know you are,” he growls as he drags you back up to him, hovering just over the edge of his mouth as you feel his hot breath connect with your wetness that’s already dripping for him again.

Fuck.

He wraps his strong arms around your hips and tugs you down where your folds are connecting with his plush lips, and the feeling is already overwhelming. But you need it, need him. You suck in a breath as he licks a long stripe up the entirety of you and you moan out for more.

“Need you so bad, daddy. Please,” you beg, digging your hands into the thighs of his dark jeans as your nails embed in him.

“I’m gonna give it to ya, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna lick every inch of that pretty pussy,” he purrs as he licks another stripe up your folds, spreading you out to devour your needy clit.

You groan out and dig into his jeans, needing something to latch onto. When you open your eyes and look down, you see his bulge pressed against the thick fabric of his jeans, begging to be released.

You take your hand and grab around his thickness, working him through the denim of his pants. You hear him groan under your touch and bite your lip at the idea that dances through your mind. You’re going to sixty-nine with him. This is what’s going to send you over the edge.

You carefully unzip his zipper and free his bulging erection, taking him in your hand as you see the precum release from his slit and lap over the edges of his tip, working your hand nice and slow over him to spread the precum over his entirety.

His skin’s soft in your hand as you slide it back and forth over his large length, feeling the thick veins that spider around him that end just underneath the tip of his head. His head is red and swollen and screaming for you to taste him, and you’re happy to oblige.

Just as you meet your lips at his head and slide your tongue across his drenched tip, he shutters underneath you and lifts your hips just enough to speak as you feel the salty precum slide down your throat all hot and bubbly like.

“Fuck, baby. What’re you doin’?” he says with clenched teeth as you squeeze his cock, gliding your hand up and down his shaft as you turn to face him, smirking down at him with a devilish grin forming on your lips.

“What do you mean what am I doing? Isn’t it obvious? We’re sixty-nining,” you purr, licking your lower lip as you watch his pupils blow out into big black pits.

“Sixty-nine, is that right? You’re a dirty girl, kitty cat,” he smirks as he takes his index and middle fingers and pushes them inside you nice and slow, curling his fingers up to hit that spongy soft spot that makes you clench up against him and moan out slowly.

“That’s right, right there. That feel good?” he asks as you bite your lip and nod at him, choking out another moan as he curls his fingers higher, setting a wildlife throughout your entire core.

“Yes, daddy. Feels incredible,” you groan as you rock against his fingers, letting your own hand twist up and down his hard, wet length in your hand. You want to taste him, now.

“Fuckin’ sixty-nine. And with the prettiest girl in the world? Shit, baby. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger like that pretty pink bow in your hair,” he says with a gentle laugh that sounds a little like unbelief in his voice.

You giggle out a laugh as you stare at him as he smiles up at you between your legs. “Got you wrapped around my finger, do I?”

“Mhm, that’s right, sweetheart. All mine,” he says with a crooked grin curling up over his lips, sending your heart into overdrive.

“All yours,” you confirm with a soft smile.

He takes a minute to look at you, warm eyes focused on your face softly. Then his eyes shift into something dark and carnal as he brings you back down to his mouth.

“Well, go on, darlin’. I’ll take care of this needy pussy while you show me how good you can suck my cock,” he smirks, letting his fingers release from you as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down on him again. You choke out a moan as his tongue presses deep into your folds and up your dripping hole.

You focus back on his hard cock in front of you and go back down, circling his head as you lap up his salty precum and then dive down on him, taking his long length in your mouth as your hand slides up and down him slowly, savouring his taste on your tongue.

You take him as far in your mouth as you can, making sure you hit the back of your throat and choke on him while tears spill down your face as you take him deep in your throat over and over again.

You hear his moans fill the room as his tongue circles your clit, hearing your own moans get washed out by the sound of you gagging on his thick cock as your spit drips down his length and into the coarse hairs that cover his base.

The wet, sticky, messy sounds of Joel eating you out and the gagging sounds of you deep throating his massive cock again and again mix together, forming a wet, harmonious melody that reverberates off each other. It causes more slick to slide down your center as he licks and sucks and pulls on your needy clit. It’s too much, too fucking hot. This is the best, most intimate thing you’ve ever done. But you have a feeling this won’t be the end of it because he’ll want more, you’ll want more. It’s only going to get hotter, more primal, more possessive as you continue.

Joel Miller may be a fucking menace, but you’re no better. You’re a temptress spinning your web as you trap him, seducing him to you, pulling him and making him yours. Both of you wrapping each other into a complete tangle until both of you are completely, irrevocably bound to one another. Just like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to him as he is to you. Two hearts beating wildly for the other just the same.

The room is hot and sticky as both of you get lost in each other’s ecstasy. Moans echoing off the walls as you both are close to orgasm, both so fucking high off each other that you never want to come down. You just want to stay where your bodies are panting in sweat as you continuously get lost in each other’s bliss and euphoria. You’ve never experienced a high quite like this before. Never experienced anything ever like this. It’s just you and Joel, two bodies completely consumed in the other with no plans of ever slipping away from each other. It’s just Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You start to clench up, feel your walls fluttering as they’re about to spill, feel the way he sucks your clit into his giving mouth as his tongue travels up the entirety of you, covering you in his own spit and drool. And it’s so fucking hot.

“C’mon, baby girl. Give it to me. Cum for me. Wanna feel it,” he groans as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks hard. And that’s when you come apart for him, that’s when you feel yourself let go.

You release your lips from his cock and feel a string of drool fall from your lips and attach to the tip of his head, thinking of nothing as you throw back your head back and moan his name as it echoes across the room. “Joellllll, fuck,” you moan as you release white hot liquid all over his mouth. He’s greedy and takes it all, licking you clean as you hear his mouth drink you up, leaving nothing behind.

You rub up and down his cock faster, feeling him stiffen underneath you as his breath goes shallow. Ragged moans leave his chest as he grips your thighs tight and moans out your name slowly.

“Oh fuck, oh shit,” he slurs as you lap at his tip, teasing him before you take him again.

“That’s it, daddy. Go on and cum for me. Wanna take you all in my mouth,” you purr as you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing up and down as you deep throat him, hearing the gagging noises that send him over the edge. He’s right there, just on the edge. You go down again and hold your mouth there as you take him deep, feeling your throat constrict around his thick cock.

“Baby, m’gonna… gonna cum… oh, fuck,” he moans as you feel thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throat, swallowing his large load down as the salty, delicious taste dances down your tastebuds.

You work over his length nice and slow, not stopping till he’s finished cumming. And just when you think he’s done, he surprises you and pours out more inside your mouth.

You see his hand shoot to his sweaty forehead as he grabs at his messy curls, see his eyes roll back as he moans your name again and again. It sounds like music to your ears, something angelic and addictive sinking into your soul at just the sound of him cumming. It’s your sanctuary, your favorite tune in the world. And you’d never get enough of it, never.

When he’s finished sending his spend down your throat, you slowly release your mouth from him as drool cakes your chin. His cock is so messy with spit and drool that you blush at the job you just did on him.

You feel his chest heave up and down underneath you, his breathing gradually slowing down little by little. You take a second to catch your own breath, gulping down breaths of fresh air that smells like him. There’s something beautiful in the rhythm of both of your breaths in sync. It’s almost like you share the same heartbeat, something so intimate about it that you can’t even shake the euphoric feeling. It’s the best thing you’ve ever experienced. He’s the best thing. Joel is.

After a few minutes he helps you sit up as he pulls his briefs and jeans back up over his softening cock. When he sits up, he grabs your lace panties from the floor and pulls them up over your legs, securing them back into place over your overstimulated pussy. He pulls down your dress over your thighs and lays back down against the couch, bringing you down with him.

You sink into his side and wrap an arm around his chest as he cradles you in his arms gently. He takes his hand and runs it up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps over every square inch of skin he marks as his own. And this feels right, all of this feels right. He feels right.

He presses a kiss against your forehead and showers you with the perfect aftercare cuddles. He’s so good, the absolute best at aftercare. It’s always been your favorite ever since the first time he did it with you in this very living room that you sit in now. Joel Miller might be dominant in the bedroom, but he’s a big softie underneath it all. He’s the perfect combination of rough around the edges and pure honey everywhere else.

“Did s’good for me, sweetheart. Always do s’good for me,” he purrs as he places another gentle kiss over your forehead. “My perfect girl,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words. My perfect girl.

“Mhm, your perfect girl,” you whisper back as you snuggle into him more, sinking into his chest as his soft t-shirt scrapes along your jawline.

“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, his raspy chuckle that sounds like a symphony of guitars in your ear.

“Me too,” you whisper back.

As the movie comes to an end, Joel grabs the controller and puts on Halloween as you hear the theme song play from the speakers. He relaxes his arm back down around you and pulls you closer to where your cheek is nestled in the crook of his neck as he takes his other hand and runs his fingers through your waves. And this might be your favorite thing ever. Being in his arms. You never want him to let go. Never ever.

You feel yourself start to slip into unconsciousness, feel yourself relax into him as the darkness pulls you under. You don’t know when, you don’t know how, but after a few minutes of cuddling you and Joel fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth as sleep takes you down fast.

And then something happens, something unexpected and unwelcome.

After what seems like hours of sleep, you’re woken up to the harsh lights of the living room being turned on. You jolt awake and sit up, blinking a few times to get your eyes situated to the fluorescent lights above. Joel rubs his eyes and follows your lead, adjusting to being woken up from a deep sleep. Your jaw drops when you see who’s standing in the corner of the room. Sarah.

Oh, fuck.

“I knew it, I knew!” she jumps up and down as her long curls bounce up and down along with her, a big smile spread across her face as she can’t seem to keep her excitement down.

“Shit,” Joel mutters under his breath as your eyes go wide in panic. You try to speak but you can’t. You’re frozen, not knowing what to do or say. You’ve been caught red handed.

“I knew it all along! This is so exciting! You and dad? Oh my God, I’m a genius,” she squeals as she jumps again.

“Sarah! Calm down,” Joel warns as his eyes narrow slightly. Sarah stops jumping but continues beaming at the both of you. You feel like your heart is about to come out of your throat. Your dad. What if she tells your dad?

“Sarah, you’re not gonna tell my parents are you? They’d kill me,” you rush out with your breathing uncontrolled. It feels like you're about to throw up with the knot that’s in your stomach. Joel notices your panic immediately and does what he can to calm you down.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he urges as he cups your chin and turns you toward him, his deep brown eyes almost calming you down. Almost. “She’s not gonna tell them. Right, Sarah?” he asks as he turns to her, giving her that knowing look.

She imitates her lips being a zipper and acts like she zips them tight. “My lips are sealed. Promise,” she nods as she looks back and forth between the two of you, your anxiety slowly calming down at the confirmation.

“See? She won’t say a word. It’s gonna be okay, darlin’,” he confirms as he soothes you over, one hand rubbing your thigh to calm you down. You nod in acceptance.

Sarah calls your name and you look up. “I’ve noticed the way dad’s looked at you for a while now. Been wondering when he was going to make a move,” she laughs, shaking her head. “He’s liked you for a long time, even if he never told me. I could see it in his eyes.”

You just look over at Joel and smile at him. “Yeah, I’ve liked him for a long time, too,” you say quietly. Joel meets your eyes and smiles at you, the corners of his lips curling up to form those perfect dimples again.

“This is so cute, I think I’m gonna throw up,” she says as she claps her hands together.

“Alright, alright. Go on up and go to bed, it’s past your bedtime,” he says as he points at the clock that says five past midnight.

“Okay,” she groans. “Night, love birds,” she sings as she leaves the room and heads up the stairs.

“You sure she won’t say anything?” you ask nervously, anxiety still swirling through your gut.

“If there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s keeping secrets. So, think we’re safe,” he confirms as you blow out a breath you had been holding.

“That’s a relief. I guess she was bound to find out at some point, right?”

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” he says as he nods his head. His calloused thumb shifts against your jawline and he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You lean into him and get lost in his scent, in his abundance of warmth. When you hear the creak of the stairs, you pull apart from his lips fast.

Joel leans over the couch annoyed and peeks up at the stairs. “Sarah?” he asks in a deep voice, warning her to stop spying.

“Uhh, yeah?” she asks nervously.

“Bed. Now,” he growls. She obeys and runs up the stairs, not wasting a second of time. He sighs in annoyance. “She’s never gonna let me live this down,” he groans.

“Hey,” you say as you grab his hand and entangle your fingers in his. “I’ll be right there with you through it.”

He rasps out a chuckle and looks you in the eyes, calm brown eyes returning to look at you. “You want me to take you home? I can drop your car off tomorrow.”

You shake your head no. “Can I stay here tonight? Don’t really want to go home. I’d rather stay with you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. You always have a place here.” He pushes a curl behind your ear and pulls you back in, planting his lips against yours as a warm wave of peace and serenity cloud your mind.

“C’mon. Let’s get you up to bed.” He pulls you up and picks you up bridal style as you squeal out and wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss his cheek and tuck your head against the crook of his neck as he carries you up the stairs. And somehow you know it’ll be okay. Things will turn out okay because you’re with Joel.

So when he pulls you tight against him under the sheets and you're wrapped in his t-shirt with his arms around you, you know you’re in good hands. Nothing can ruin what you and Joel have. Not even your dad. Joel has your whole heart and nothing can change that now.

Tags: @amyispxnk @janaispunk @blueseastorm @joelmillersblog @joelalorian @heartstoptrying @littlevenicebitch69 @getitoutofmymindwrites @akah565 @keylimebeag @dugiioh @laurrrra @untamedheart81 @roostersforevergirl @itsokbbygrl @pedrostories

Part 4

[wethotcrazy]

SYMPATHY IS A KNIFE

pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 3727

this is loosely based off of sympathy is a knife by charlie xcx, it’s a lot of world building please bear with me i have a vision (-﹏-。) also expect cursing. this is quite a long one (im working on multiple parts), i'll try to post as much as can.

part ii part iii part iv

All children are encouraged to do their best, dream big, and reach for the stars. But let's be honest: how many kids actually achieve that goal? How many adults can say they have been fighting for their place for far longer than they can remember?

Not a lot.

That kind of passion was rare. But perhaps it was more than passion; maybe it was the sick sense of wanting something bigger than yourself. Maybe she was just a workhorse that never learned when to stop. 

Growing up karting was where Yn found a love for motorsports, it was her dad that introduced her to it. A part of her felt for the older man; this had been his dream as much as it was hers. Back then, it had always been just a hobby, even though she had already achieved multiple wins. She never thought it would come this far.

At 16, she was picked up by the Red Bull junior team to race in various junior categories, eventually making it into Formula 3 and then Formula 2. Even then scoring points and race wins came easy. Years of hard work and dedication had done her well, with many saying that a Formula 1 career was surely in the cards for her.

And if she was being honest, Yn was hungry for that Formula 1 seat.

Yn’s laptop lit up with an email, enclosed was her contract with VCARB. She was going into Formula 1.  Was it arrogant to say she had been expecting this? Could you blame her for asserting it wasn’t a matter of if, but when? 

But signing the contract should have felt like a victory, a promise fulfilled, a chance for everything she’d worked toward to pay off. But as the seconds flew by, Yn could already feel the weight settling over her, heavy as a storm cloud. The stakes had never been this high, and the whispers were already there, quietly accusing, scrutinizing. Her entrance into F1 wasn’t just a testament to her skill and ambition; it was a flashpoint, a reason for some to undermine her achievements and question her right to be here.

F1 wasn’t just a men’s world—it was a battleground where “passion” for her felt dangerously close to “obsession,” and her relentless pursuit of victory was both her strength and her vulnerability. Yn knew that she couldn’t just be good; she had to be perfect, ruthless in her pursuit for wins and podiums, and undeterred by every sly remark and skeptic. Sympathy, after all, was nothing but a knife in disguise, and she’d long since learned not to expect it from anyone, even her team.

Her first day at VCARB was a whirlwind of meetings, briefings, and countless faces both excited and skeptical. The engineers studied her, sizing up the girl who was stepping into a seat she’d earned, but one they seemed to question if she could keep. Her jaw tightened with determination—she would prove every one of them wrong, and not out of spite but out of an unyielding hunger to carve her name in F1 history.

Yuki arrived in the afternoon, a familiar face in a sea of unknowns. With an easy grin, he crossed the garage, his demeanor effortlessly lighthearted as he joked with the engineers before catching her eye. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you here so soon,” he teased, a glimmer of pride in his eyes that he knew she’d earned.

She let a small smile slip, and for a moment, the walls she’d erected came down. “Surprised? I thought you’d know better,” she quipped back, crossing her arms.

“Not surprised,” he replied. “Just excited. Maybe I’ll finally have someone here to keep me on my toes.”

But behind their friendly exchange was an edge, a reminder that this was a competition and that teammates or not, they were both vying for survival in the world’s most ruthless racing series. They had both clawed their way here, and no amount of camaraderie could change the fact that every second on the track was a chance to prove they deserved to stay.

Underneath Yuki’s easygoing nature, she knew there was a fierce competitor. She’d seen him race, seen the raw talent that made him as unpredictable as he was quick. Yn knew they’d push each other to the limits, that their friendship would inevitably become a duel of ambition. And she wanted that—it made her hungrier, sharper.

But there was something different about her fight. Being the first female F1 driver in years meant her wins were never just hers; every success and failure became ammunition for those who doubted women in motorsport. There was no room for mistakes, and any slip-up would be amplified, dissected in the press, on social media, even in private conversations she was never meant to hear.

One night, as she stared out at the empty track after hours, she felt Yuki’s presence beside her. “They’re going to be watching everything I do,” she said, voice low, a rare admission of vulnerability.

“They watch all of us,” he replied softly, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I know how hard you’ve worked to get here. And… well, if they think they can beat you down, you’re gonna prove them wrong. Just… stay hungry, yeah?” He nudged her shoulder gently.

“Hungry?” she scoffed, steeling herself. “I’m starving.” 

Yuki chuckled, but it was laced with respect. “Good. Because that’s what it takes.”

The season had started on fire for Yn. Her first four races saw her consistently in the points, an impressive feat for any rookie, let alone one under as much pressure and scrutiny as she was. Headlines praised her talent, with journalists and fans alike marveling at her ability to keep up with more seasoned drivers. Her team, too, seemed to start letting their guard down, seeing her not as a gamble, but as an asset. But as is often the case in Formula 1, the success didn't last forever.

Her fifth race began with promise, but Yn knew almost from the start that something was off. The car felt different, twitchy around the corners, each lap feeling more and more like she was on a knife’s edge. Halfway through, she could feel her grip on the track slipping, but she pushed harder, unwilling to lose ground.

With just a few laps remaining, the inevitable happened.

The crash was swift and brutal. The car spun out in the third sector, her back tires skidding as she lost control. She hit the barriers hard, the sound of carbon fiber breaking echoing through her helmet. Her vision blurred as the world spun, then finally stopped, leaving her breathless in the cockpit, staring at the wreckage around her.

Her engineer’s voice came through her headset immediately. “Yn, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly, trying to steady herself, adrenaline still pumping as she felt the sting of defeat sink in. “I… I’m sorry. I lost it. The car just—slipped.”

There was a pause on the other end, a moment that felt like judgment even through the crackling radio. “We’re glad you’re okay. We’ll get you back to the garage. We’ll review the data,” her engineer replied, his voice careful.

Yuki’s voice came through on her personal channel moments later, after seeing her crash on his onboard. “Yn? You alright?” His tone was laced with concern, stripped of the usual playfulness.

She swallowed, fighting the frustration building in her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… pissed off.”

“You’ll be back next race,” he assured her, but she could only respond with silence. The shame of letting her team, her fans, and herself down weighed heavily on her.

In the post-race interview, Yn struggled to find the right words. The cameras focused on her, the flash of lights overwhelming as journalists fired questions, each one cutting a little deeper.

“Yn, it was a tough day. Do you think the pressure got to you out there?”

She clenched her fists, forcing a composed smile. “I don’t think it’s about pressure. Today just… wasn’t my day. The car was giving me some issues, and I did my best to control it. Sometimes, that’s just racing.”

“But after four races in the points, are you worried this is a sign of things to come?”

The question sliced through her like a knife, and she could feel the weight of the implication: that she was fragile, a fluke who’d just been lucky.

“No, I’m not worried,” she replied, her voice steady but tense. “One race doesn’t define my season. I’m here to compete, and I’ll be back even stronger next race.”

When the interviews ended, she caught Yuki’s eye across the paddock. He gave her a nod, a silent show of support that reminded her she wasn’t alone, even if it felt like she was carrying the world’s judgment on her shoulders.

The news coverage the next day was ruthless. Headlines screamed with exaggerated disappointment: “Yn Cracks Under Pressure?” and “First Female F1 Driver in Years Falters After Promising Start.” A few outlets were kinder, chalking up the crash to typical rookie mistakes and downplaying any concerns over her ability to handle the car. But most took the crash as an invitation to dissect her every move, doubting whether she could handle the demands of the sport.

Social media was ablaze, fans and critics alike chiming in, and Yn could barely stand to look. She knew this was part of the game, that everyone in F1 was under scrutiny, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that for her, the stakes were higher. Every failure she faced felt amplified, a reason for the world to question her right to be here.

Yuki called her that night, his voice calm and soothing against the chaos swirling around her.

“I’m just so pissed,” she admitted finally, her frustration cracking through her voice. “I wanted to prove that I belong here, and now… it feels like all anyone sees is this one mistake.”

“You know that’s not true,” he replied, a hint of warmth in his tone. “Everyone makes mistakes, even the greats. They’ve all crashed at some point. Don’t let them take that fire from you. Because once the season’s over, they’ll see what you’re made of.”

She took a shaky breath, comforted by his words. It was strange—she’d started this journey expecting every teammate to be a rival, another barrier to overcome. But in Yuki, she’d found someone who understood the relentless, hungry drive that fueled her, and who respected it.

The next morning, her team’s engineers ran a debrief, analyzing the telemetry and tire data from the crash. They assured her that she’d made the right call in pushing the car, that the twitchiness wasn’t imagined. Yn felt a flicker of relief; maybe she hadn’t just cracked under pressure, maybe it had been an unfortunate mix of circumstances. But no matter the reason, she knew she had to rise from this stronger than before.

It had been a long race, Jeddah was grueling and relentless, yet Yn had been on the verge of a breakthrough. She was fighting tooth and nail for P8, going wheel-to-wheel with Fernando Alonso in the final laps. She’d been holding her own, each move calculated, each corner taken with the precision she’d been honing for years. This was her shot, her chance to show everyone she wasn’t a fluke or a face in the crowd. She was ready to prove herself.

Then it happened.

They clashed in the final sector, both fighting for space. Fernando took the inside line, edging her out, and she, desperate to hold her position, stayed close, too close. Their wheels touched, and in a flash, her car lost stability, skidding and spinning before colliding with the barrier. The jolt left her breathless, her hands gripping the wheel as the rage took over.

Her engineer’s voice cracked through the radio. “Yn, are you okay? What happened?”

She clenched her jaw, trying to control the fury building up inside her. “That fucking guy, Alonso! He squeezed me—left me no room!” Her voice was shaking, frustration and adrenaline spilling over. “I had that position!”

There was a silence on the radio as they processed her words. “Copy, Yn. We saw the incident. Just stay calm.”

Stay calm? She’d given everything, and now, twice in a row, her race had ended in ruin.

After the race, Yn felt the press of cameras and microphones on her as she trudged toward the media pen. She could barely contain the frustration bubbling inside her, a storm barely held back as reporters closed in, questions already on their tongues.

“Yn, this is the second crash in a row. Are you feeling the pressure of Formula 1?”

“What’s your take on the incident with Alonso? Do you blame him?”

Yn took a steadying breath, but the calm she'd usually conjure wasn't there. “Look,” she said, voice tight, trying to keep her tone steady, “I know what happened out there, and Alonso gave me no space. I was holding my line, fighting for position like we all do. I’ll review the footage with the team, but if people think I can’t handle the pressure—they’re wrong.”

The next question felt even more loaded. “Is it challenging to maintain focus, given the scrutiny you’re under as the first female driver in years?”

She forced a smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not here to be a spectacle; I’m here to race. Everyone’s under pressure in this sport. It’s what makes us competitors. The scrutiny just makes me hungrier.”

Her words were pointed, but she could already feel the twisting of her words forming in the reporters’ minds, their pens scratching away, headlines already buzzing to life in their notebooks.

The news the next morning was merciless. Some articles analyzed her crash with Alonso, calling it a “rookie miscalculation,” while others openly questioned whether Yn’s composure was “cracking” under the scrutiny. The worst were the opinion pieces, suggesting she might be better suited to junior categories if she couldn’t handle the rigors of F1.

Yuki found her in the paddock later that evening, her expression set as she packed up her things, clearly wanting to avoid any more eyes on her. He walked over, hands in his pockets, a gentle smile on his face.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Rough race out there. I saw the footage—Alonso really gave you no room.”

She shot him a look, her expression unreadable. “Thanks, Yuki, but I don’t need anyone to say it wasn’t my fault. I should’ve handled it better.”

“It wasn’t about fault,” he countered softly, unfazed by her edge. “It was a close fight. You held your ground. Besides, you’re doing something none of these people could even dream of.”

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shoving her race gloves into her bag. “Spare me the pep talk. I don’t need anyone’s sympathy. Especially not yours.”

He took a step closer, not backing down. “This isn’t sympathy, Yn. You’re one of the best rookies on the grid. Every one of us has crashed. I know what you’re going through, and I know how much you want this. But maybe don’t let their voices drown out what you already know—you deserve to be here.”

She wanted to tell him to stop, to remind him that it was different for her, that every mistake was fuel for those doubting her existence in this sport. But instead, she looked away, unable to bring herself to speak. She didn’t want to be seen as weak, as someone who needed reassurance.

Yuki sighed, catching the conflicted look in her eyes. “Alright,” he said quietly, his gaze softening. “Just… don’t forget that you’ve got people here who believe in you. No matter what the headlines say.”

She gave him a brief, reluctant nod, her voice a whisper. “Thanks, Yuki. But belief isn’t going to get me P8.” She turned and headed for the exit, leaving him behind as the words hung in the air, heavy with the reminder of just how high the stakes were.

Yuki knew things had changed since those days in the Red Bull junior program. Back then, it was just him and Yn, two kids pushing limits, sharing laughs and late nights studying data, feeling like the world wasn’t so big, like maybe they’d take it on together someday. She’d always been determined, sometimes stubbornly so, but she’d had that spark, that glint in her eye when she talked about F1 like it was the only thing that mattered. But now, standing at the pinnacle they’d dreamed of, Yuki could feel the distance growing between them, a wall she was building with every race, every misstep, every setback. 

He tried to remind her of those lighter times, even when the racing got intense. On weekends, he’d linger in the garage with her, cracking jokes, trying to coax a laugh out of her, like they used to do after tough sessions back in Formula 2. But it felt different now. She had this look, as if there was a weight pressing on her that no amount of lightheartedness could lift. 

The night after her crash with Alonso, Yuki tried again, catching up to her outside the paddock as she was leaving. “Hey!” he called, jogging to catch up. “Thought maybe we could grab a bite together. There’s this place nearby that serves ridiculous ramen—reminds me of the spot we’d hit after races.”

She hesitated, her gaze distant, before letting out a sigh. “Yuki, I’m tired. I just want to go back to the hotel and review the data. It was a messy race, and I don’t think I have much appetite.”

Yuki’s shoulders dropped, but he shrugged, forcing a smile. “We could just hang out, then. No data. Just us. I mean… it’s been a while since we’ve really relaxed, you know?”

She gave him a weary smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I appreciate it, really. But I need to focus. I can’t afford to mess up again, not with everything they’re saying.”

He could hear the bitterness in her voice, the resentment barely hidden beneath. It killed him to see her like this—so hardened, so guarded. She was always the toughest of the rookies, fearless, but now it seemed like her own passion had turned against her, trapping her in a never-ending battle against herself. 

He tried again the next day, lingering by her side during their briefing, sending her a grin every chance he got, trying to bring back that easy dynamic they used to have. But it was like she was somewhere else, somewhere far away where his words couldn’t reach her. She’d nod along, respond, but always with that distracted air, her eyes flicking back to the screen, the telemetry, the data, anything but him.

By the time they were heading out after debrief, Yuki couldn’t hold back anymore. “Yn,” he said, his voice softer, catching her arm as she went to turn away. “I know you’re frustrated, I know it feels like everything’s on the line, but… this isn’t like you. You’re carrying everything on your shoulders alone. Let me be there, like we used to.”

For a moment, her expression softened, a glimpse of the Yn he remembered, the one who used to nudge him in the ribs and joke about who could get pole on the practice track. But it faded just as quickly, replaced by that same stony determination.

“I appreciate it, Yuki. But you don’t understand. It’s different for me.” She pulled her arm back gently, looking away. “Every mistake I make gives people more reasons to think I shouldn’t be here. Every crash, every missed point. Sympathy’s a knife in this sport, and I can’t afford to need anyone’s help. I just… I have to handle it.”

He let her words sink in, feeling the sting behind them, realizing that every race, every session was turning her into someone he barely recognized. But he understood, maybe better than she thought. Yuki knew that in F1, there were those who supported you, but there were also those who’d gladly let you fall, especially if you didn’t fit their mold.

“Maybe it’s different for you,” he said quietly, keeping his voice steady. “But you don’t have to do it alone. We’re teammates. We’re supposed to be here for each other. I’m… I’m supposed to be here for you.”

She looked up at him, and for a second, he thought he’d broken through. But she just shook her head, a faint, sad smile on her lips. “Thanks, Yuki. Really. But I need to be strong enough on my own. If I rely on anyone too much, they’ll use it against me. I have to prove myself, no matter what.”

Yuki watched as she turned away again, shoulders squared, that unyielding resolve back in her posture. He knew there was no convincing her, no getting her to see that it was okay to lean on someone every now and then, that it didn’t make her weak. But as she walked away, he felt the weight of her words settle on him, a sadness mingling with frustration. This wasn’t the Yn he knew—this was someone who felt like she had the world against her, like every race was a fight to justify her existence in F1.

Later that night, Yuki found himself with Pierre, staring at his untouched bowl of ramen, his mind churning. He’d always known Yn was strong, maybe even stronger than him in ways he didn’t fully understand. But it was painful to watch her shoulder that strength like a burden, pushing everyone else away, including him. 

He thought about what he could say next time, some way to convince her that she didn’t have to do this alone, that he wasn’t there out of sympathy, but out of respect and genuine friendship. But deep down, he knew that as long as she felt the world’s expectations pressing down on her, she’d keep her guard up. For now, all he could do was be there, waiting, hoping that one day she’d let him in, let him remind her that even in the ruthless world of F1, there was room for someone who’d stand by her side, win or lose.

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter ten

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . not proofread sorry, i had to take a break from writing my dissartaion to write this and i cannot fathom looking at my laptop for any longer tonight. also this chapter is v v angst so prepare yourselves <3 )

Y/N stared at her buzzing phone, her heart pounding in her chest. Mason's name flashed on the screen, a stark reminder of the tangled web of emotions she found herself caught in. She knew he must have seen Max's unexpected PDA on the TV, and she could only imagine the turmoil it stirred within him. 

Part of her wanted to answer, to offer some kind of explanation or reassurance. But another part, the part that had brought her to Monaco in the first place, urged her to leave the call unanswered. She wasn't sure if talking to Mason would only complicate things further, or if it would bring some clarity to the chaos swirling in her mind. 

So, with a shaky hand, she silenced the ringing phone and tucked it back into her purse, her decision made but her uncertainty still lingering like a shadow in the back of her mind, but she tucked her worries away the best she could and went to watch Max’s press conference.  

After Max finished his press obligations, he diligently scanned the bustling area, his keen eyes searching for Y/N amidst the crowd. When he spotted her, patiently waiting for him, a genuine smile stretched across his face, illuminating his features with a warmth that mirrored the affection he held for her. 

Approaching her, he caught her eye, his gaze softening as he reached her side. "Hey," he greeted, his voice laced with genuine appreciation. "Thanks for being here." 

Y/N returned his smile, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "You were fantastic out there," she complimented, her voice a blend of pride and affection. 

Max's smile widened at her words, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thanks," he replied sincerely, his appreciation evident in his tone. "It means a lot to have you waiting for me as I step out of the car" 

As the press area buzzed with activity around them, Max's expression shifted slightly, his demeanor taking on a more serious tone. "Listen," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of concern. "I have to stay late for a few meetings with the engineers. It might take a while." 

Y/N nodded understandingly, though a flicker of disappointment flashed across her features. "Okay," she acknowledged, her tone tinged with understanding. "I'll head back to your house then." 

Max's eyes softened at her response, his gratitude evident in his gaze. "Thanks," he murmured appreciatively. "I'll join you later." 

Just before he turned to leave, Max leaned in, his movements gentle yet deliberate, and planted a quick, casual kiss on her lips. The unexpected intimacy sent a shiver down her spine, leaving her momentarily stunned as she watched him walk away. 

As Max disappeared into the throng of people, Y/N stood rooted to the spot, her mind whirling with a myriad of emotions. The brief encounter left her feeling both exhilarated and bewildered, unsure of how to process the sudden surge of intimacy between them. It was so quick and casual, like it was something they had done a thousand times before. 

Feeling a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her, Y/N decided to divert her thoughts by immersing herself in a familiar task. With a determined stride, she made her way to the nearest supermarket along the route to Max's house. As she perused the aisles, memories of the cozy café in London where she and Max had shared hot chocolates flooded her mind. 

Gathering the ingredients for the comforting drink, Y/N found solace in the routine of selecting the perfect items. She carefully chose the finest cocoa powder, the creamiest milk, and a sprinkle of cinnamon for that extra touch of warmth. With her purchases secured, Y/N made her way to Max's house, the weight of the bag in her hand a reassuring anchor. She greeted Max's two cats, Jimmy and Sassy, with a fond smile before retreating to the kitchen to prepare the hot chocolates. The routine of the task brought her a sense of calm, the rhythmic motions soothing her frazzled nerves. 

As she waited for the milk to warm and the chocolate to melt, Y/N couldn't help but replay the moment of the kiss in her mind. It had been so quick, so casual, yet its impact lingered, leaving her with a flurry of questions and conflicting emotions. She pushed aside the uncertainty, focusing instead on the simple act of gratitude she wanted to express to Max for his hospitality and kindness. 

When Max walked through the door and caught sight of Y/N standing in the kitchen, a wave of warmth flooded his chest. The comforting aroma of hot chocolate enveloped him, filling the air with a sense of home. Yet, as he approached, he noticed a hint of uncertainty in Y/N's demeanor, her eyes flickering with a touch of insecurity. 

Before she could overthink it, Y/N launched into a ramble, her words tumbling out in a rush of nervous energy. "I, uh, wanted to do something to say thank you for letting me stay here, but I can't cook, and I just didn't know what to do. But I know how much you liked the hot chocolate from that café in London, so I thought I could try and remake that, but I'm sure it won't taste the same, and I th—" 

Max gently interrupted her rambling with a soft smile, stepping closer to wrap his arms around her. "Hey," he murmured, his voice warm and reassuring. "You didn't have to do anything. But I love it, really. Thank you." 

His words washed over Y/N like a soothing balm, easing the knots of insecurity that had tightened in her chest. With a shy smile, she poured them each a cup of hot chocolate, the familiar ritual grounding her in the moment. 

As they settled on the couch to watch a movie, Y/N felt a sense of contentment wash over her. The warmth of the hot chocolate and the comfort of Max's presence enveloped her, lulling her into a sense of relaxation. Soon, she found herself drifting off to sleep, the steady rhythm of Max's heartbeat a soothing lullaby. 

When she stirred slightly in her sleep, Max gently lifted her in his arms, carrying her to her bed with a tenderness that made her heart flutter. As he laid her down, she murmured softly, her words barely audible in her half-asleep state. 

"Stay," she whispered, her voice tinged with vulnerability. 

Without hesitation, Max nodded, his heart swelling with affection as he settled in beside her. Y/N snuggled close to Max, seeking refuge in his comforting arms. He held her tight, their bodies entwined as they melted into the warmth of each other's presence. In the soft glow of the moonlight, they found solace, their breaths synchronized as they succumbed to the tranquility of sleep, their hearts beating in unison. 

As the sun rose over the horizon, casting a warm glow through the windows of Max's apartment, Y/N gradually emerged from the depths of sleep. She reached out instinctively, her hand searching for the comforting presence of Max beside her, only to find the space next to her empty. Blinking away the haze of sleep, she noticed a neatly folded note on the nightstand, Max's handwriting scrawled across the page. 

She unfolded the note, the words written in Max's familiar script inviting her to help herself to breakfast and join him at the track whenever she was ready. A soft smile graced her lips as she absorbed his thoughtful gesture, a warmth spreading through her at the reminder of his presence. 

Rising from bed, she made her way to the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Max had left everything she needed for breakfast, from cereal and fruit to freshly baked pastries. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she savored the quiet solitude of the morning, the gentle hum of the city outside a soothing backdrop to her thoughts. 

After a leisurely breakfast and a refreshing shower, Y/N dressed quickly, anticipation building with each passing moment. Grabbing her bag and Max's spare pass, she made her way to the track, the excitement of race day tingling in the air. The paddock buzzed with activity as teams made final preparations, the energy contagious as she navigated her way through the crowd. 

Spotting Heidi among the throng, Y/N waved eagerly, her spirits lifting at the sight of her friend. They exchanged warm greetings, their conversation flowing easily as they made their way to a prime viewing spot. As the race began, Y/N found herself swept up in the exhilarating spectacle, the roar of the engines and the thunderous applause of the crowd filling her with excitement. 

With each passing lap, Max's car surged ahead, his skill and determination evident as he battled for position. Y/N cheered him on with fervor, her heart swelling with pride at his remarkable performance. Beside her, Heidi shared in her enthusiasm, their shared love of racing forging a deep bond between them. 

Amidst the chaos of the race, Y/N's phone began to ring, the sound interrupting the roar of the engines. Surprised to see Ben's name flashing on the screen, she stepped away from the crowd, the noise of the garage fading into the background as she answered the call, a sense of curiosity piquing her interest. Her and Ben never really speak to each other outwith the time they spend with Mason or Reece, so she wasn’t sure what Ben could want. 

As Ben's panicked voice relayed the troubling events, a knot of worry tightened in Y/N's stomach. "Y/N, it's Ben," he began, his voice urgent. "You need to hear this. Mason... he... he snapped during the match today. Tried to start a fight, punched someone. He got a red card and just stormed off. Reece and I went to his house right after, but he won't answer the door or his phone. We're really worried about him." 

Y/N's heart sank at Ben's words, her mind racing with concern for her friend. "Oh my god, Ben. Is he okay? Where is he now?" she asked, her voice trembling with worry. 

"We don't know," Ben replied, his voice strained. "His car's outside, but he won't let us in. If there's anyone he'd talk to, it's you. Can you try calling him, check if he's okay?" 

With a sense of urgency, Y/N assured Ben that she would do everything she could to check on Mason. "I'll call him right away, Ben. Don't worry, we'll find him," she said, her voice determined as she ended the call and hurried back to Max's apartment, her mind completely forgetting about the race and Max. All she wanted to do was get to a quiet, private place to check on Mason 

As she made her way through the city streets, her thoughts were consumed by concern for Mason. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her since Ben's call, her mind filled with questions and worries about her friend's well-being. 

Finally reaching Max's apartment, Y/N wasted no time in dialing Mason's number, her heart pounding with each ring. "Mason, it's me," she said urgently as the call connected. "Ben told me what happened. Are you okay?" 

As Y/N arrived back at Max's apartment, her fingers trembling with anxiety, she wasted no time in dialing Mason's number, her heart pounding in her chest. "Mason, it's me," she said urgently as the call connected. "Ben phoned me. I'm really worried. What happened?" 

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line before Mason finally spoke, As Y/N listened to Mason's voice on the phone, she could hear the raw emotion in his words, his voice hoarse and strained as if he had been crying. It pained her to hear him like this, knowing that he was hurting. "I don't know what to do, Y/N," he confessed, his words heavy with despair. "It's like everything's falling apart. I don't want to lose you, but... I don't know how to fix this mess. It's all my fault." 

Her heart ached at the sound of his distress, her own worry deepening. "Mason," she said softly, trying to offer him some comfort. "I'll be back soon, okay? We'll figure this out together. But no matter what happens, you won't lose me. You're my best friend, and that will never change. I promise." 

There was a moment of heavy silence before Mason spoke again, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "I saw Max kiss you on TV," he admitted, his tone filled with anguish. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, and after a moment of silence, she sighed deeply, the weight of his words settling heavily upon her. "I know," she said solemnly, her voice tinged with sadness. 

"I wish... I wish I could go back a few weeks ago. I wish it didn't take me so long to figure out how I feel about you. I had you, and I threw it all away" 

Y/N's heart sank at his words, unsure of how to respond to his confession. "Mason," she murmured, her voice laced with sadness. "Let Ben and Reece in. When I’m back in London I’ll come and we’ll talk about all of this okay. I’ll be back before you know it okay. But you can’t do that on the pitch okay. Don’t throw your career away because of all of this, it’s not worth it. 

When Mason asked her to stay on the phone for a bit longer, Y/N couldn't refuse. She understood his need for some semblance of companionship in this turbulent moment. "Sure, Mason," she replied softly, her heart aching for her friend. "Just go let Ben and Reece in, and we'll chat for a while." 

Mason agreed, and soon the three of them were engaged in a conversation that danced around the unspoken tension lingering in the air. They talked about anything and everything, deliberately avoiding the elephant in the room. Ben shared a hilarious story about a disastrous date he once had, and they all laughed together, if only to momentarily escape the weight of their troubles. 

However, as the conversation flowed, Y/N's attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of a key turning in the door. Reality crashed back in, reminding her of Max and the fact that she had left the race midway through without a word to him. With a heavy heart, she interrupted the conversation. "Guys, I... I need to go," she said, her voice tinged with regret. 

There was a moment of silence before Mason spoke up, his voice filled with concern. "Everything okay, Y/N?" 

Y/N hesitated for a moment before replying, "Yeah, everything's fine. I just... I have to go. Take care, okay?" Without waiting for a response, she ended the call and prepared herself to face Max, her mind racing with uncertainty and anxiety. 

Max entered the apartment with an unmistakable storm brewing behind his eyes. His expression was a mixture of anger and concern, evident in the tight set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. "Where were you?" he demanded as soon as he saw her, his voice laced with frustration. 

Y/N felt a pang of guilt as she faced him, knowing she had caused him worry. "I... I had to go," she stammered, feeling the weight of his disappointment bearing down on her. 

Max's frustration spilled out in a torrent of words. "I got out of the car looking for you, and you were just gone. No message, nothing. Heidi had no idea where you were. She said one minute you were there, and then you weren't," he recounted, his tone laced with frustration. 

He took a breath, his anger softening slightly as he continued, "I brought you here because I wanted to show you what my life was like. But you just left. I was really worried. Nobody knew where you were. I tried to phone you a hundred times, and it kept saying your phone was engaged." 

Y/N felt a pang of remorse wash over her at the realization of how much she had worried him. "I'm sorry, Max," she apologized, her voice laced with regret. "I didn't mean to cause you any worry. But, Mason needed me and i nee-” 

Y/N felt a pang of remorse wash over her at the realization of how much she had worried him. "I'm sorry, Max," she apologized, her voice laced with regret. "I didn't mean to cause you any worry. But, Mason needed me, and I needed to be there for him." 

Max's brow furrowed deeper, his frustration evident in the way he clenched his jaw. "Mason, Mason, Mason," he muttered, his tone tinged with exasperation. "It's always about him, isn't it?" 

Y/N recoiled slightly at the sharpness in his voice, her heart sinking with guilt. "It's not like that," she protested weakly, her words faltering under the weight of his accusation. 

Max's anger flared once again at her response. "Isn't it?" he retorted, his voice rising in frustration. "We spent an amazing week together, and I was feeling really positive about us. But one word from Mason, and I'm dropped." 

Y/N's heart ached at his words, the truth of them cutting deep. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I care about you, Max, I really do. But Mason is... he's my friend, and he needed me." 

Max's frustration was palpable, his anger radiating off him in waves. "I don't know what to do," he continued, his voice strained with emotion. "I want to be with you, but I can't keep competing with him for your attention. What do I have to do? Is there anything I can do or will Mason always come first.” 

Max's question hung heavy in the air, filling the room with an unbearable tension. Y/N felt the weight of his words pressing down on her, but try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to respond. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat, suffocated by the suffocating silence that enveloped them. 

Max watched her intently, his eyes searching hers for any sign of reassurance, any glimmer of hope. But as Y/N's gaze fell to the ground, avoiding his, he felt his heart sink with a profound sense of disappointment. He had laid his heart bare, baring his vulnerability for her to see, but her silence spoke volumes. 

"F- fuck this," Max muttered, his voice thick with emotion as he turned away, his footsteps heavy against the floor. With a sharp exhale, he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him with a resounding thud. 

Left standing alone in the wake of his departure, Y/N felt a surge of anguish wash over her, swallowing her whole in its bitter embrace.  

After everything Y/N couldn’t help but think that this what she deserved, to simply be alone.  

Tag List

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[eightyonekilograms]

I went to the Apple Store yesterday to try the scripted demo of their VR headset. My overall impression is that it's the best possible execution of what might be a fundamentally flawed idea.

The passthrough video is pretty incredible. It's somewhat dimmer than reality, and the color accuracy is just OK, but it's more than good enough to feel like you're looking through clear displays at the real world. I'm told the passthrough on the Quest 3 is even better, but haven't tried that and can't comment. One thing is that there is a weird motion blur effect when you turn your head, I'm not sure if that's a display tech limitation or introduced deliberately by the software as a workaround for a different display tech limitation.

The resolution is 4K per eye, which, as mentioned, is more than enough for a powerful sense of presence in the real world. One of the nifty bits of the demo was when you turn the dial to tune out the world and suddenly you're sitting by a mountain lake, and the feeling of actually being there is overwhelming. The dystopian implications of needing a VR headset to sit at a mountain lake aside, it would be cool to have one just to have your office be anywhere you can imagine. Not $3500-before-tax cool, but cool.

Wow sports leagues are going to love this thing. I don't give a shit about sports and even I was thinking, "If the NBA put a stereoscopic camera courtside and sold you games for $50 a pop, I'd absolutely buy that"

But 4K per eye is not enough to do work, not even close. The experience of using normal computer-y applications on this was not unlike plugging your laptop in to a TV that's at the normal TV distance. You can do it, it works, but it's not anyone's preferred way of working. Text is amazingly legible, but only at sizes that are equivalent to having a single webpage take up your entire 4K monitor at normal monitor distance.

It is not particularly comfortable. Part of this might be that the store demo makes you use the "catcher's mitt" strap, which only goes around the back of your head and so gravity has to be countered only by the pressure of the thing against your face. Reviewers have said that if you use the other band that goes over your head the situation is better, but still.

A lot of early comments were making fun of Apple for having the battery be an external thing you put in your pocket and attach with a wire, but I think that's just fine: we all walk around with giant batteries in our pockets anyway, and anything you can do to have less weight on your head is a Good Thing. But then Apple took all those weight savings and spent them on making the stupid thing out of metal and glass instead of polycarbonate. It's nuts! It's like if you made a car that was 500kg lighter because you invented magical tech for keeping the engine somewhere else, and then went "great! with all the weight savings now we can build the body out of lead". Apple, you don't need to fear plastic. Plastic is good! Plastic built modern civilization.

You control it with a combination of eye tracking and pinch gestures. This is the main piece of evidence of my "best version of a bad idea" thesis: it works really, really well; so well that I can tell this is probably an evolutionary dead end. It's just fine— miraculous, even— for dragging windows around and doing the basic stuff the in-store demo has you do. It's amazing that you can more or less have your hands anywhere, including on your lap, and the recognition works perfectly (by contrast with the HoloLens I tried 5 or so years ago where the gesture recognition was total crap). But it's immediately obvious that you can never do serious manipulation of your computing environment with this.

The takeaway is that it's incredible for passive consumption of specifically-made media, assuming that ever exists at scale. But it will be a long time before we're gogged in like Hiro Protagonist to do our office jobs this way.

[mvlvrr]

⋆｡°✩ melodic mayhem ⋆｡°✩

guitarist!kaiser x f!reader <3

summary; kaiser, the lead guitarist of some stupid garage band, makes it big and leaves you in the dust. finally seeing him again after years, old feelings bubble up between you two and nothing short of mayhem begins to happen, in the confines of a public bathroom.

. . . .

“kaiser, your food is at the door!” you yelled from upstairs, but to no avail. kaiser and his ‘band’ used your home’s garage to practice, and they were as loud as they were good. “fucker.” you sighed, getting up out of bed and leaving your phone on your pillow. trudging down the stairs, the cold floor practically freezing your bare feet (you wished you’d put on slippers), you approached the front door and huffed again.

reaching for the doorknob, you opened the door a bit, looking at the man who was holding two bags of chinese food.

“sorry for the wait,” you said softly, taking the bags from him and handing him money. your money. money that should have been kaiser’s. once the door shut, you grumbled to yourself. “fucking freeloader.”

hoisting up the bags of food, you walked into the noisy garage, and yelled over the sounds of the drums and guitar.

“kaiser! shut the fuck up for a minute, will you!?” he finally heard your voice, and stopped playing, along with his few other friends. the only one you knew was ness, nicer than kaiser but a bit awkward around you.

“oh, it’s you,” kaiser grinned stupidly, before eyeing the food in your hands. “that’s mine, right? thanks, pretty.” he set down his guitar gently, walking towards you and taking the food from your hands with narrowed eyes and a shit eating smile.

“uh,” ness mumbled, before speaking up to kaiser. “don’t you think you should pay her back, man? she always pays for our food and she lets us use her garage.” kaiser shot a glare to ness, eyebrow raised.

“pretty girl over here doesn’t mind,” kaiser answered, speaking for you before setting the food bags on a nearby folding table.

your hands clenched into fists. this bastard, always taking advantage of you. never paying you back. filled with frustration, you turned on your heel and stormed back into the house and upstairs, flopping onto your bed and screaming into your pillow once his stupid guitar was playing again.

. . . .

over the course of months, kaiser continued to use you and your kindness to his advantage, using your feelings for him as a stepping stone. kaiser knew you liked him, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t like you at least a bit. but he wasn’t going to let you get in the way of his dream of getting it big someday.

everything was normal, boring, even, until kaiser got a call saying they wanted him and his band to preform at a gig. one call turned into three. three turned into seven. until he was being asked by producers to sign a record label with them.

kaiser never texted you thank you, never called, or visited. you heard his music, saw him on the news, articles, everything.

it hurt, knowing he’d just left you by yourself after everything you’ve done for his stupid ass. scrolling through yet another article about him on your laptop, you decided it might be good for you to get out tonight. after all, you’d been cooped up in your house the past year while kaiser’s been famous, moving on while you’re stuck in the same place.

after a nice, hot shower, you dressed yourself up in your finest dress, heels, and did your hair and makeup. you were going to look your best tonight, no matter what. it was something you needed to feel confident.

you snatched up your purse and phone, walking out of the house and locking the door behind you. making your way to your car, you couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward in your own skin. when was the last time you’d actually tried to look your best? whatever. that didn’t matter now.

driving to one of the biggest bars in your city, you parked in the parking lot and shut off the engine.

around the parking lot, couples and groups were scattered, smoking, making out, popping pills, and drinking.

you sighed. you desperately needed a drink or two. walking into the bar, the first thing that hit you was the music playing in the background. you froze. live music. but..

it was kaiser’s voice. kaiser’s song. kaiser. kaiser and ness and those other shitheads who messed with your head. walking through the crowd and brushing shoulders with countless people, you stopped right in front of the stage, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed as you saw him.

. . . .

kaiser had to admit, when he saw you he was shocked, pleasantly surprised, and annoyed. he had wanted to get over you, that’s why he never called. he wanted to focus on getting famous, not on a girl. but you weren’t a girl, were you? no, not anymore. you were a woman, that’s for sure.

once his performance was over, kaiser pushed his way through the crowd and found you, about to leave.

he gripped onto your wrist, yanking you back towards him.

“long time, no see, pretty,” kaiser said slyly, grinning cockily and ignoring the girls swooning over him behind. “how’ve you been holding up?”

“let go,” you said sharply, trying to pull out of his grip, and failing. “kaiser, i’ve been shit. not like you give a fuck.” he paused. you were really that affected?

“of course i ca—”

“if you cared you wouldn’t have left me in the dust,” you interrupted him, glaring up at him with anger. despite his better judgment, his cock stirred in his jeans as he looked down at the fiery expression on your face and the scowl on your lips.

“you’re sexy when you’re angry, pretty,” kaiser muttered. your cheeks turned a bit pink, and he relished in the pride of flustering you. that is, until you snapped back.

“if you’re just trying to get in my pants, i’m not interested,” you grumbled back in reply, sighing heavily. “look, you left me by myself after i gave you food, paid for your shit, and let you play in my garage. can your tiny brain wrap around why i might be a bit upset you ghosted me after all of that?”

kaiser did not respond right away. he thought about what you said. he knew you were right, and he did feel like a bit of a dick, but he didn’t just want to get in your pants. he did, but he wanted to have a relationship with you again. just seeing you brought those old feelings back to the surface..

“kaiser?” you snapped in his face. “pay attention when i’m talking to you.”

kaiser nodded obediently, sighing dramatically. “yes ma’am, no need to get angry. please, let me take you to the bathroom? it’s not like anyone would hear us!”

you were completely stunned. “do you have no shame?” you asked, flabbergasted, while he just smirked and dragged you with him to the family bathroom and locking the door. he turned to you.

“let me make up for lost time. let me treat you.” kaiser’s voice, for once, was sweet and genuine, and you practically melted. with a curt nod, kaiser smiled, pushing you gently against the wall. he kneeled before you, pulling your panties down and off of your legs completely, before lifting you up with ease, one hand holding you up by your ass, the other putting one of your legs on his shoulder, squeezing the fat of your thighs and looking up at you as he nudged your dress above your hips, admiring your puffy folds, already slick for him.

“pretty girl,” kaiser praised, before leaning in and licking a stripe along your clit. you twitched, eyes shutting and hand going into his hair, pulling on the strands as you whimpered shamelessly.

kaiser prodded his tongue into your cunt further, feeling your walls clamp down on his tongue like a vice. he continued to lap at your pussy, and when you began to grind on his face, your clit rubbing on his nose, and your whimpers more frequent, he knew you were close.

with a small cry, you came undone on his tongue, yanking on his hair as your juices coated his face and dripped down his jaw. he finally pulled away, smirking up at you.

“do you forgive me now?” kaiser asked with a sultry tone, gently thumbing at your clit while you whined and trembled from the overstimulation.

“no,” you said mockingly, voice trembling. kaiser smiled warmly at you, placing a kiss on your thigh.

“considering how wet you are, i think she forgives me.”

. . . .

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 3

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Gif creds to @bestintheparsec

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.5K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

Sorry this took so long. Work :( But I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think. :) Thanks for reading!

-Pedro's POV-

The warmth of the midday sun beamed through the window as Pedro glanced nervously at his watch. 12:55PM. Finally, he grabbed his laptop and lay down on his couch with a soft *flump*. He quickly typed in "The Jazz and AllyKat show" into the search engine and opened up the website for your interview, just in time for it to begin broadcasting live. He knew you wouldn't be visible, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't been waiting anxiously since they announced it two days ago.

He was interested in hearing more about you. Hearing your voice speaking instead of just singing. Hearing the passion and levels of expression you may portray. Do you have an accent? A high or low voice? A lisp or a stutter? A rasp? You were such a mystery to him and the world, yet your shared conversation over Instagram the other day was so heartfelt. He appreciated your candor and vulnerability, especially in show business.

He couldn't figure out why… but ever since he heard your song, he couldn't stop thinking about you. There was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He was impressed with your lyrics and swooned at your voice. That voice! But with everyone contemplating who you were and who you liked, Pedro didn't want to be another one of those people, making you feel pressured. But he was certainly curious. 

The video began and he listened intently, not wanting to miss a single word. When your voice chirped a hello to the interviewers and listeners, his heart skipped a beat. He swore it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He was drawn to you and wanted to learn anything he could, so he listened, trying to keep his breathing as silent as possible to not miss it. Why am I feeling like this? We've only had one conversation. Why am I so drawn to her, especially when she's already in love with someone?… he interrogated himself.

The interview discussed your favorite color, animals, and books, which Pedro vowed to read as soon as he could get to a bookstore. You listed off your favorite films and shows. However, although you had a great taste in cinema, he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that none of his roles were on your list. Clearly it's not you she loves, so you can put that out of your head now. He should feel relief, but instead he feels hollow at that realization.

When asked who your best friend is, you gush about your guy bff. You talk about how much you love him. How cute and sweet he is. Pedro can't help but feel a bit jealous of this guy who you love so much. But he listens on, his heart perking up and bubbling over when he hears you finally explain that your best friend is your dog.

Not only does she have a dog, but he's her best friend. And the way she talks about him is so…adorable, he thinks, gushing over your shared love of the fuzzy animals. He wonders what your dog's name and breed is, but you refuse to answer that question from the interviewers, for fear that someone may recognize his name and breed, tying him to you. The interviewers make a joke on your paranoia, which you ignore and Pedro scoffs at, their lack of understanding poking a protective instinct inside of him.

The conversation suddenly rolls into celebrity crushes and his chest tightens. But before they can ask you, he hears the air horn signaling the amount of viewers. Although he's disappointed to miss the potential answer you may have given, he also feels that strange protective feeling over you again, making him feel annoyed at the interviewers, knowing your desire for privacy. His thoughts only shift into a possessive manner for a millisecond before Ally proposes the possibility of your crush potentially listening to the show. His heart and emotions are on a bumpy roller coaster and he's practically jittery at the anticipation. He's leaning in to hear your answer when the door to his house barges open and a frustrated Oscar Isaac walks in, complaining in Spanish.

Startled, Pedro slams his laptop closed and flings it towards the coffee table, nearly spilling his drink. He yells questioningly, wondering why his best friend is barging into his home unannounced. Oscar is fully in the living room now, hands on his hips and ready to rant again. But before he has a chance to continue his argument with Pedro, he squints. His eyes look to the laptop, then to Pedro, now standing and looking frazzled after jolting up from the seat. He looks at Pedro's face again, eyebrow raised questioningly, and points to the laptop. "Were you watching porn?"

Pedro is dumbfounded, and if he wasn't on such high alert, he would've thought to lie and say he was watching porn. Instead he blurts "NO, I was not watching porn." It sounded like a lie. Oscar looks again from the laptop to Pedro, noticing his flushed cheeks and giving him a once over from head to toe, looking for any tells, other than the blush and the panic. "Yeah right, you slut. Let's see then."

Oscar reaches for the laptop, and Pedro grasps for it too, just a second behind. Too slow. Pedro argues "I wasn't. Not that it should matter, seeing as I'm in my own HOME… alone. Or should I say previously alone." Pedro throws his hands up in frustration. Oscar just laughs. "Okay let's see what you're so interested in then, that you don't even hear me knocking on your door or trying to contact you." He cracks open the computer.

"You're watching…an interview?" Oscar looks at Pedro, confused at why he would be so wigged out over a talk show. "I told you," Pedro replies, pointedly. Oscar glances back at the computer again, his brow suddenly relaxing and his lips turning into a mischievous smirk. "Ohh. I see… This is that girl you defended in your interview, huh? Someone got a little crush?" 

Pedro rolled his eyes and scoffed, trying to push away the warmth grazing his cheeks. "No. I don't have a crush. I was just looking for something to do and saw it pop up on my page…" Pedro rambled on, "plus it's just curious how much she's keeping a secret, you know? Everyone is wondering about these things." Oscar listened, amused, and Pedro continued. Please stop talking, Pedro thought to himself. "Plus I don't even know her. A crush? That's ridiculous."

"She doesn't know that guy in her song either and she managed a crush… and you defended it," Oscar said matter-of-factly. Pedro rolled his eyes, and Oscar continued. "Are you hoping her crush is on you?" 

Pedro sputtered out a quick answer. "Please. She sounds young... it's probably on someone like Harry Styles. Why would she have interest in an old man like me?" Oscar patted Pedro's shoulder. "You're too hard on yourself." Pedro ignored him and continued, "plus you know how I feel about relationships." 

"Yeah yeah…" Oscar continued in a mocking tone, hand pretending to be a sock puppet while he recited, "I don't have the time to properly grow a relationship, I don't want to get hurt, I'm focusing on my career…" Pedro ignored his mocking tone and simply agreed with the recitation. "Yes… now… Why did you feel the need to barge in here unexpectedly?"

"It wouldn't have been unexpected had you checked your messages. I texted you four times and even messaged your Instagram when I didn't get a reply," Oscar defended. 

"You know I'm not a texter," Pedro disputes.

"Yeah, no shit, abuelito. How many messages are unread on your phone? 600?" Oscar banters.

Pedro hastily defended himself. "No! I call them back! And abuelito!? Really?" He tuts. "You're not far behind me, pendejo. Plus you know I never check my Instagram messages either. I hardly even log on. You should've called me instead."

"I did. Twice. Anyway, I wanted to see if you were still available to watch the kids later. Buuuut, after not hearing back, I just decided to check on you. Glad to see you're alive, and clearly just distracted." Oscar wiggles his eyebrows.

Pedro crosses his arms, ignoring Oscar's last remark. "Yes, of course I'll watch the kids. Go enjoy yourselves!"

"Thanks P. You're the best… and I know I'm picking on you, but I just want you to be happy. I think if you like this girl you should try and talk to her. Dust off the cobwebs of your Instagram and actually message her or something."

I already have… Pedro thinks, running his thumb across his bottom lip. "Thanks, man."

Oscar left with a friendly pat on Pedro's shoulder. "See you later tonight then with the kids!"

Upon closing the door, Pedro sped over to his laptop again, hopeful that your interview hadn't ended yet. Fortunately for him, it was still recording. He hoped he hadn't missed anything.

The interviewer named Ally spoke. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Pedro's heart pounded so loud he feared he would miss your answer. If she says yes… his mind entertains, not knowing the answer to the rest of that thought.

You spoke, hesitantly, and he felt the protective urge creep over him again. He wanted to know the answer but he hated hearing you uncomfortable . "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

He swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat.

The interviewers replied excitedly. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

There's a long pause. The silence is deafening, apart from the booming timpani of Pedro's heartbeat.

You answered, so softly he almost missed it. "Yes. We've talked."

He stopped breathing. 

"Did you tell him it was him? Did you admit you love him?"

"Absolutely not. It was just a nice conversation," you laughed.

We had a nice conversation…

"Will you tell us who he is? At least a description? An initial?" Jazzy asked, desperate for answers.

Ally chimed in "anything! We're starving here."

You giggled before answering. The most beautiful laugh he's ever heard. "I won't do that much, but I will say… he has brown curly hair... Gorgeous brown eyes… And he seems really funny and nice."

I have curly brown hair and brown eyes.. maybe it could be me, his heart offered the idea. I try my best to be funny and nice too.

It could also be Tom Holland. Or Dylan O'Brien. Or some other young actor, his self-doubt chimes in. But he also knew based on your eye color descriptor, that it wasn't Harry Styles, shutting down his earlier guess.

Ally lets out a huff. "That's a pretty broad answer but I guess it narrows out a few people.."

"Well we have another surprise. A way to narrow it down a little more…" Jazz proposes.

"Oh? What's that?" You replied. Pedro could hear the nervousness in your tone.

Jazz continued "I asked our tech to work his magic, and he managed to pull a list of our viewers during the highest number of people tuning in…"

Pedro's heart picked up speed.

"Then, since he's so good at working a computer, he was able to filter it further, running the names through the web and pulling out any celebrities. We have a list here and all you have to do is read through and say if he's on the list of viewers. The only ones who would know are the three of us. Of course if he's watching, he will also know if he's in the running or not."

You stuttered out, "o-okay.."

There was a long pause on your end while you read, and Jazz and Ally filled in the space with chatter.

Pedro sat, waiting nervously for your answer.

"Uhm… no. None of these names.." you finally answered.

His heart sank. It wasn't him. You didn't love him.

"That's disappointing," Ally answered. "I had really hoped he was listening. I'm sorry. I thought when we filtered through the viewers with our celebrity listener filter, we'd have some luck."

"It's okay.. he's probably busy or something.." you answered, though your disappointment was hard to hide. "Maybe he will listen later when he has time."

Pedro was logged in on his account. His name would've been on that list, and you just confirmed, without calling him out personally, that he wasn't the one you loved.

The interview soon ended and he closed his laptop with a sigh, flopping back onto his couch. He had hoped to message you and tell you he watched the video. But now he didn't see the point in it. You already knew he watched it, and you probably didn't care. He closed his eyes and eventually decided to try and ignore his feelings. You don't even know her. Don't be stupid. It's just a crush.. a stupid, hopeless crush..

Looking out the window, Pedro noticed the sun setting outside and glanced at the clock on his stove. Realizing Oscar would be back soon with the kids, he decided he needed to snap out of it. Put on a happy face before babysitting duty. He began straightening up the house and getting things ready before finally turning on a cartoon movie just in time for them to arrive. 

Oscar greeted him, and sat the kids in front of the movie. He knew his friend well enough to see through his smile and know he was upset about something. But he also could tell Pedro needed some space to sort things out in his mind first before he was ready to talk. So he left the kids with a profuse thank you, and headed out the door, leaving Pedro alone with his thoughts and two small bundles of energy.

Unbeknownst to Pedro, you looked through the list of celebrity viewers, scanning for his name. But thanks to his friend's intrusion, at the time that they filtered the list, he was disconnected from the live video. He wasn't on the list you saw.

Kept busy with the kids, it wasn't until they were back home with their parents that Pedro was forced to think about his feelings. Maybe he would still message you either way. You probably needed more friends and allies in this business, and he did enjoy talking to you, even if he wasn't the one you loved. If you didn't want to form a friendship with him back, that was fine too. But he would try. Still, his disappointment was settling in his heart. He didn't realize how much he was starting to care about you until you said he wasn't on that list.

So with the shared belief that neither of you cared about one another, you both went to bed, you both felt heavy in your hearts, and you both couldn't help but feel light tears spilling onto your cheeks as sleep eventually took over.

Equally unknown to you, he was watching, and he planned to watch it again when the video was posted, just to hear you talk a little bit longer. Just to learn more about you. Learn the tiny personality quirks he could pick out from your voice. Things that make you who you are, until maybe he could meet you in person. 

That's all for this chapter!! Thank you again for reading and let me know what you think.

Looking for the next chapter? Here!

Taglist: (Let me know if you want in!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson

[bellewintersroe]

Sebastian Vettel x RBDesignEngingeer! Reader.

Set in 2013 during the GP, Jennifer is fresh out of uni and has made a name for herself within the F1 world. She joins Redbull-Renault as one of their engineer designers and easily fits into the team, forming friendships easily. Most of all, she captures the attention of three time world champion, Sebastian Vettel.

Part 4 - here is the LINK to the previous part. Warnings: mentions of prior abuse, but I’m not going into detail, some swear words, Sebastian comforts Jen and he’s very open about how he values her and feels towards her. Basically Seb is just a huge softie. Taglist: @rainerax - comment if you wanna be added at all &lt;;3

Shanghai, China, April 2013.

When I arrived in Shanghai for the Chinese Grand Prix I felt completely on edge. The last time I’d seen many of these people was after a drunken exchange with my ex boyfriend which left me with a slowly fading bruise to my left brow bone. My usual concealer had been layered over the mark and my caramel coloured hair had been pushed in front of my eye, just to add an extra concealment.

Despite the nerves and anxiety of coming back, I still did feel good. I was excited to be in China, it was overwhelmingly hot, a different kind to what it felt like in Europe, I avoided sweating at all costs by staying in the garages, doing my best to keep at work whilst the engineers outside worked hard to put together the last of the track and surrounding areas. My head set was on and I was extremely focused on the report from Mark’s car performance in Malaysia. So many numbers, so, so many numbers…

I was blind to the people around me. I had to remain so focused that I didn’t even realise when a blonde man was sat besides at me, smiling away whilst I squinted back to the vibrant of the computer screen. “2…3, 50 Kilo-” “Two, three, fifty?!” A voice startled me, I jumped back in my chair, hand simultaneously pushing back my headset as I raised my brows to see Sebastian sat in the chair besides me. I gasped audibly out loud as he snickered, waiting for my response. “Sebastian! Hi! I’m sorry, you shit me up!” I cursed, holding my hand to my chest. “Sorry.” He teased, moving forwards with his arms out. My heart was in my throat for a reason other than being startled, the fact he was here, right besides me after two whole weeks. “How are you?” I pressed a hand to the back of his shoulder, his warmth radiating through his fireproof shirt. “Very good, better if you replied to my text…” my voice hitched, my jaw was slack as I casted my mind all the way back to the taxi ride. “Oh my god, Sebastian!” Again, I gasped, rummaging for my phone. “Fuck, I was in the taxi. I’m so sorry, that’s so rude of me!” I fumbled but Sebastian just laughed putting a hand on mine to settle the clumsy movements.

“There you go breaking my heart again, Jennifer.” Seb dramatically sighed as I slumped slightly, watching back to him with an amused smirk. “Shut up.” I glanced back to my computer. “Maybe I didn’t reply to you for a reason.” I teased as he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “Your feisty boyfriend had something to say about it?” He, again, smirked as I felt something pang in my upper stomach. Turning back to my laptop, I began awkwardly laughing. “Ex- boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Seb sounded like his breath was heavy as I gnawed on my bottom lip gently. “Yeah..” I inhaled through my teeth awkwardly. “I’m really sorry about how he acted in the club before we left. That was so embarrassing.” I cringed even thinking about it. “You don’t need to apologise.” Seb lowered his voice to a more serious tone, resting on the desk besides me as he played with his fingers, the two of us making eye contact again. My stomach was fluttering from a mixture of nerves and the fact his shoulder was brushing against my own.

“It wasn’t you that did anything. I think he was just threatened, after all. Are you surprised?” He then teased causing another smile to grow on my lips. I nudged into him, feeling him laugh and place a hand on my upper back briefly. “I hate you, Seb.” I joked.

“That’s not nice.” He pouted as I playfully rolled my eyes, nudging into him once more, just a little more lightly before I turned back to my computer screen with a smile. After a few more seconds, I could feel Seb’s gaze on me, and when his finger reached out to brush my hair away from my eye, I flinched back in response. “I’m clumsy when I’m drunk.” I pushed my hair back over my eye as Seb’s smile faded ever so slightly. “I know…” It seemed like he forced his lips to twitch back up again, but when he did I just pretended like nothing else had been noticed and got back to my work. On the inside I was screaming, my heart was pacing and I was for some reason worried he’d put the piece together of where the bruises actually came from.

An hour or so later I’d bumped into Hannah again, greeting her excitedly with a hug and kiss on the cheek. “It feels like ages since I’ve last seen you!” I giggled.

“I know! It feels like months! How are you?”

“Good thank you! And you?” “Good, good to be back! Your eye okay?” She frowned, nudging my hair back slightly. “Oh yeah, my nephew accidentally knocked it the other day. Looks worse than what it is.” The lie fell easily off my lips. “Is he young?” She smiled. “5, his sisters 1 and they’ve already got another on the way.” That wasn’t a lie, and bringing up my nephews and nieces was a good way to get out of any topic of conversation about anything uncomfortable. “Cute!” Hannah grinned as I turned to my right slightly, noticing Sebastian lingering. My smile faltered, putting two and two together. I’d told him something completely different about how I injured my face. Forcing another small smile, I was quick to spin back around to my computer, acting busier than ever as I continued to make random small talk with Hannah. I just prayed to god he wouldn’t bring it up or he’d forgot, and for the next few minutes I had gotten away with the little white lie. The thought played on my mind for the rest of the day. I knew Sebastian heard me loud and clear, so as soon at 5PM hit I was ready to get the hell out of there and back to my hotel room. “Hey, Jen! Are you coming out for food later?” James called out just as I got to the door. “Oh, sure, what time?!” The delay caused me to stumble clumsily forwards and two hands to grab my shoulders. Sebastian stood, steadying me. “Oh! Seb, sorry!” I giggled, gazing up to the man. His hair was covered with a RedBull cap and he for some reason was looking better than ever.

“That’s ok. Could I grab you for a minute?” His brows twitched slightly as I struggled to make eye contact. Fuck. He was going to bring it up. I knew he was. “Yeah, sure.” I breathlessly spoke, seeing him nod as he left a gentle hand on my upper back.

“Text me, James! I’ll be there.” I called back out to my fellow design engineer before heading out of the garages into the space between paddock and grid. “It’s coming together nice out here.” I nervously spoke, clutching my bag tightly over my shoulder.

“Yeah, it is.” Sebastian sighed from behind me as I pursed my lips anxiously. I felt like I was delaying the inevitable by walking two steps ahead of him, so I paused, turning to face him.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

“I just…” Sebastian began with a frown. My heart began drumming against my ribs, “you know how much I care for you.” He began as I tightened my jaw, staring down to the ground.

“I just wanted to see if everything was ok.” He managed to blurt out as I stole a glimpse up to him again. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” I lightly asked as he let out a gentle sigh. “He shouldn’t lay a finger on you.” The German man finally spoke as I felt cheeks warm in embarrassment. “I heard him yelling at you, I’m sorry it’s none of my business, but- I-I know he’s done that to you. I should’ve followed you out.” I paused completely now, standing face to face with him. My heart crumbled at the regret on his voice, his brows were furrowed and he had a blue expression lingering over his features.

I inhaled to begin speaking, but the words fell flat again. “I’m sorry.” Sebastian muttered.

“You just… deserve better than that, somebody who would value you, I would value you.” The last sentence of his words, again, struck something deep inside of me.

“Seb-“ I began. “You don’t need to put up with that, I won’t allow it.”

“Seb, I’m- I’ve left him. Right after that night.” I voice was a little breathless and I did feel slightly uncomfortable talking about the topic.

There was a look of relief that covered his face, I offered him a gentle smile. “I would treat you how you deserve.” He then stated as I felt a little confused with his words. “And I would kill him for laying a finger on you.” He continued as I sucked in my bottom lip, gaze falling to the ground. Was he admitting something to me? Whatever it was it felt like the complete wrong timing, I hated myself for feeling a sense of happiness at what he was admitting.

“It’s okay.” I reassured, gazing back up to him. Sebastian again, had a saddened look on his face. “Let me take care of you.” He stepped forwards gently as my heart began fluttering. I couldn’t, something else washed over me, panic? Guilt? It was too early and I couldn’t believe I was about to say it- “I-I don’t need taking care of. I just need some time.” I explained as he gulped, nodding as he followed along with my words. What exactly was he trying to tell me?

“I’m sorry-”

“No, no I understand. Completely, Jen.” He rubbed at my arm as I offered him a sad kinda smile. He looked slightly deflated, and every time he’d glimpse at the bruise on my eye I could practically see his stomach churn in anger. “I do appreciate it though.” I slipped forwards, easily into his arm. The hug was the first major close contact I’d had with him, it felt so good. “You know I’d say yes I just need a little time.” I rubbed at his back, sighing into the contact as he grazed a hand down my hair. God, I’d needed this hug so badly. “I can give you all the time in the world…” Oh Sebastian, he was breaking my fragile heart…

[melancholy-of-nadia]

love u lately (m) #7 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately​ chapter title: #7 - People (Pt. 2)​ pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: a camping trip in the middle of January does not prove to be ideal at all. for many reasons. and you'll blame taehyung for suggesting this! with high tensions and emotions simmering beneath the surface as you, the beta tau sigma boys, and your girly besties go on a weekend getaway, someone unexpected decides to confess to you, leaving you to wonder what your heart even wants? warnings:  camping, reader being obviously jealous, AND STRESSED, smut, deep talks, shower sex, consensual groping, v in p penetration, unprotected sex (well she's on BC), swearing, kissing...A LOT, fingering, yoongi smoking cigarettes, hwasa the drama pot stirrer, ANGST, INJURY, eventual CONFESSION, yoonminjoon on high tension, jungkook carrying reader = jealousy, ft. Hwasa, IU, Adora, and Soyoon note: as always thank you to @daegudrama for editing this chapter and giving me smut ideas!!! total word count: 12.6k drop date: February 9th, 2024 3:00PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #6 | Series Masterlist | #8 →

January 19 [Saturday]

The rhythmic hum of the engine and the soft purr of the tires on the pavement accompany your focus as you sit shotgun in Yoongi's car, en route to the campgrounds. Winter break ended earlier that month, and reality is setting in as you find yourself juggling the remnants of relaxation with the impending demands of university life.

Yoongi decided to bring his car to campus this semester, knowing that he would need it for the camping trip to be able to fit everyone. Each car housed a portion of your close-knit group:

Jin's car: Hoseok, Hwasa, Soohyun Jimin's car: Namjoon, Soyoon, Jungkook Yoongi's car: You, Taehyung, Jieun

Seated beside Yoongi, you diligently work on a writing assignment, your laptop open on your lap. Yoongi cast a sidelong glance, noting your dedication despite his concern for your motion sickness.

"Are you seriously working on your homework in the car? You get bad motion sickness, Honey." He sighs, worry lacing his words as he continues looking at the road.

You finally lift your gaze, meeting his eyes after a focused 25 minutes. "I took a dramamine before this, so it’s not too bad. I just need to get this assignment done before Tuesday. I know I’m going to fuck around and not work on it much this whole trip, so I’m doing all I can to get it done within the next 3 hours."

Yoongi hums, understanding the struggle. "Damn, that business comm class has you hustling hard this semester, huh?"

You groan in agreement, "Yes! I was so close to dropping it because the professor is so stingy, but I need to take it now so I can graduate on time." This spring semester is going to be a lot harder so you have to stay focused. Though, this camping trip offers a temporary escape with your friends before you start calling the library your new home for the rest of the school year.

As the car rolls along the highway, your mind wanders back to a few weeks before the semester started. The course load is much more formidable than Fall, now taking some upper division courses like psychology, business communication, international economics, and market analysis. That business comm class is going to kill you though. You sigh at yet another twist of fate of Jaebeom's presence in a class, which somehow leaves you feeling uneasy.

He struck up a conversation after the first class, asking for your phone number to discuss homework and projects. While you agreed, sensing something off, Yoongi appeared behind you as if summoned from thin air. His dark expression and the firm grip on your wrist conveyed a silent warning to Jaebeom.

Before leaving, Jaebeom couldn't resist a sudden sarcastic remark, "Wasting time? You better finish that mixtape if you want to get signed before me, Agust."

At the time, you didn't fully grasp the implications. However, his words linger, and you wonder if Yoongi has recently been struggling with his music and if that somehow was connected to you. The mixtape project, once a seamless process for him, now seemed to be hitting roadblocks.

You decide to try to pry into Yoongi’s mind and see if your suspicions are correct by continuing the conversation. "What about you, Yoongi? I know you’re taking that Recording Production Process class this semester to release a mixtape by the end of it."

"Yeah, yeah, it's going well,” Yoongi nods shyly, offering a few affirmations.

"Right, hyung is working on an album!" Taehyung chimes in from the back seat where he sits with Jieun, your upperclassman friend you'd invited on the trip.

"Oh really? That’s really cool, Yoongi!" Jieun compliments, her eyes sparkling at the mention of Yoongi producing music.

"And if you need a vocalist feature, you should ask Jieun. She’s in the university’s acapella group." you suggest, thinking it could add a unique dynamic to Yoongi's music. Yoongi has asked you to sing a couple parts in the past for his songs, though you always try to gently refuse. You don’t think you’re much of a singer and don’t want to ruin his works. However, Yoongi always thinks differently.

"Really? Jieun, if you don’t mind helping me out with some of my projects, I would greatly appreciate it." Yoongi proposed.

"Sure! I sing as a hobby, so I don’t know how great I would be, but I’ll do my best." Jieun responds, her willingness evident in her tone.

You met Jieun last year when she was a 2nd year TA in your Psych Statistics Analysis class. After several office hour sessions of trying to understand how Tukey’s Honestly Significant Difference worked (which you don’t want to explain how it works), you ended up befriending her and becoming good friends. You found out she’s an amazing singer outside of her pursuing a psychology degree and even a theater major. You think Yoongi would get along really well with her (cue Yoongi’s obscure interest in broadway musicals).

The car continues its journey through picturesque landscapes, and after two hours, you finally arrive at the campsite. Nestled in the embrace of nature, the site sprawls out with a serene lake nearby, and scattered cabin lodgings surround the area. You note the promise of a hot spring spa somewhere around here, creating a mental checklist for exploration later on.

As you step out of the car, the crisp January air hit you, carrying remnants of moisture from the previous days' rain. It is undeniably cold, and you question the wisdom of camping in the middle of winter. Everyone starts unloading the supplies from the cars for the next 2-3 days. Jin, Yoongi, Soyoon, and Jungkook take charge of building the tents, their collective efforts combating the chilly breeze.

After everyone settles down, you all decide to have a group meeting to discuss what you guys are going to eat for lunch.

Taehyung, who is always down for something random, proposes a cooking challenge that divides everyone into two teams: Team Red and Team Blue. The plan involves creatively preparing lunch and dinner using the BBQ grills and sinks at the picnic area, as well as utilizing the supplies Jin and Namjoon bought the night before. Everyone will decide on the best meal after dinner.

Team Red, consisting of Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon, Soyoon, Soohyun, and Jimin, strategize their approach.

Jin, surveying the available ingredients, rubs his hands together, ready for the challenge. "Alright, team! We have premade dough, broth, veggies, meat, fruit, side dishes, bread…ideas, anyone?"

Hoseok, ever the enthusiast, suggests, "I’m tempted to say we should make the barbecue feast for lunch. I’m craving BBQ so bad. Please, Jin."

“No! We’re doing that tomorrow night!” Jin lightly argues, earning a groan from Hoseok which makes everyone else laugh.

Namjoon, exchanging glances with Soyoon, feels a spark of inspiration. "What if we do something a bit different? Pizza. We can make pizza outdoors. It's a bit unconventional, but we do have the premade dough. I think the result will be worth it."

Soyoon giggles and nods in agreement, adding, "Yeah, I actually brought the dough because I thought we could use it to make something cool out here. Pizza would actually be fucking cool." Namjoon smile widdens knowing she understands him so well.

"I'm down for pizza!" Jimin, excited by the idea, chimes in.

"Let's make a giant combo pizza. That way, we can feed everyone." Soohyun, examining the ingredients, suggests.

Jin, impressed with his team brainstorming thoughts, declares, "Fantastic! Let's get to work. Hoseok, start the fire. Namjoon, you and Soyoon work on rolling the dough. Soohyun, you and Jimin can handle cutting the ingredients for the toppings. We've got this!"

The team disperses to their designated tasks, banter and laughter fills the air as they toss around more ideas. Amidst the cheerful chaos, your attention involuntarily drifts to Soyoon and Namjoon.

You steal glances at them, observing how they playfully engage with each other while improvising rolling pins from random cylindrical objects. The rhythmic motion of rolling dough becomes a backdrop to their shared laughter, and you can't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable.

It's different. In the past, Namjoon would get close with girls you didn’t even know, like Jihyo. This time, it hits a bit closer to home—Soyoon is your friend, and Namjoon is your childhood best friend. You remember the first time they met is when Namjoon came by to pick you up after a late night library shift during finals season last year. But you’re not even sure when they started talking to each other more without you knowing. Could it have been through one of their art history classes?

Lost in your thoughts, you're snapped back to reality when Yoongi playfully flicks your forehead, jolting you back to reality.

“Get your head in the game, Y/N.” He grumbles and you wince slightly in pain. Jerk.

“I am!” You retort as you go back to facing him and looking at the ingredients in front of you. “I was just trying to see what they were plotting for lunch.”

Yoongi can’t help but shoot you a questioning expression. You wonder if he knows that you were looking at them. It wouldn’t be the first time he catches you staring at Namjoon being with another girl. Whether he knows or not, he doesn’t decide to pry and instead looks back at the ingredients on your table.

“You can do that later, we need to start making something so we can have more time to not do shit later.”

“Just make some of your good old kimchi jjigae and have some rice on the side. It’ll keep us feeling warmed up for the night.” You see some packaged pork belly and hand it to Yoongi, “Add a little protein too.”

You’ve helped Yoongi cook in the past, so you have a sense of his cooking process when he decides to make stuff, specifically stew. This won’t take too long to prepare.

“I hate that this is such a good idea.” He groans, grabbing the meat as you smirk right back at him cheekily. “Everyone else on board? I just need the onion and green onions cut, then the pork belly stir fried before I put it all in the big pot for the stew.”

Everyone nods, followed by a “Yes Chef!” from Taehyung. As you get straight to chopping onions, you notice Yoongi looking at you with admiration. You want to know the thoughts that blossom behind his cat-like eyes, but you decide not to ponder it right now.

Taehyung takes a suspicious glance at you two, seemingly wondering about something. Though he remains silent, and instead goes to assist Jungkook and Jieun in preparing ingredients.

++++++++++++

The sky paints hues of orange and pink as the sun begins its descent, casting a warm glow over the campsite. You, Jimin, and Hoseok venture towards a pile of firewood behind the shower houses to build a cozy campfire for the night.

Jimin, ever perceptive, notices the contemplative look on your face. "Hey, Y/N, everything okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face.

You hesitate for a moment before replying. Did he notice you looking at Namjoon and Soyoon earlier? Shit, this is embarrassing. He must be thinking about how ridiculous I’m being.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just stuff on my mind, you know?"

Jimin shoots you a curious glance, silently questioning if you were ready to share what was bothering you.

Before he could delve deeper into your thoughts, Hoseok, his eyes darting around nervously, chimes in, "Guys, let's pick up the pace. It's getting dark, and I'm not really a fan of the dark in the woods. Gives me the creeps!"

You take this interruption as a chance to avoid answering him and focus on the task on hand. Jimin doesn’t push you to continue and you all walk back to the campsite.

+++++

The campfire casts dancing shadows on the faces of your friends as laughter and chatter fills the night. The aroma of the delicious kimchi jjigae lingers in the air. Yoongi and Jungkook busied themselves with slicing fruits and getting out the ingredients to make some s'mores.

Jimin goes to his trunk to take out several boxes of soju bottles, sparking a cheer among the group. The soft strains of music emanate from Hoseok's compact speaker, adding a melodic backdrop to the festivities. Crackling fire, music and the clinking of soju bottles set the perfect ambiance for the end of the B.T.S. member trip day one.

"Alright, why don’t we share some confessions around the campfire to bond with one another. Jin, you wanna kick it off?" Hwasa settles down on the picnic blanket around the fire and grins.

Jin nods, a mischievous glint in his eye, "Huh?! Me? Why don’t you start it off since you want to do this.”

“Give me like three minutes to think of something. So please go for it, Seokjin?”

“Agh, fine. Just don't judge me too hard,” Jin looks around and clears his throat before he continues. “Back in middle school, I tried to impress my crush with a card trick. It didn't go as planned, and I ended up looking like a dumbass magician. Needless to say, she wasn't impressed."

“That was kinda a lame confession.” Hwasa tells him and you try to stifle your laughter next to her.

“I said don’t judge me!” A bit of laughter ripples through the group. “You also didn’t add any rules!”

"If Hwasa wants to hear about embarrassing shit, let me share.” Hoseok eagerly volunteers, “I accidentally liked my crush's old Instagram photo while stalking their profile. It was from two years ago, and there was no way to undo it. I hoped they wouldn't notice, but they did."

“Oh see! That’s what I want to hear!” Your girl bestie yells in excitement.

Soyoon follows after, "Something to confess…I have this quirky habit of talking in my sleep. One time, my roommate caught me in the act and recorded. I talked about kissing girls for a good five minutes."

Namjoon chuckles a little too hard at that. "Funny you mention sleep-talking. I've been told I do the same thing. Apparently, I give motivational speeches about pursuing dreams in my sleep."

“No, you just ramble about shit that sounds like it makes sense when it doesn’t!” Jimin opposes. Namjoon tsks, narrowing his eyes at the younger man.

The round table of confessions continues with Jieun, "Alright, brace yourselves. I had a massive crush on my neighbor when I was in high school. Turns out, he's now a famous actor in every Netflix show imaginable. I had no idea back then."

“Wait who?!” Everyone exclaims.

“I can’t kiss and tell.” She pretends to seal her lips, leaving everyone sighing and groaning.

The stories lighten the mood, but as Hwasa shifts the rules to be only dating confessions, a tension hangs in the air. You decide to tread carefully as your turn, "Well, I had this experience just once… you know, with someone. It was interesting, but things didn't exactly pan out."

“Come on, give us more juicy details! I haven’t heard you talk about this much.” Hwasa presses.

The gazes of Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon linger a bit longer, as you navigate through your words, leaving certain details in the shadows.

“Me and that guy were basically academic rivals. Always trying to one-up each other. I beat him and got the Salutatorian honor when I graduated. Jimin was Valedictorian. We never thought we’d date until I asked him to be my fake date to a wedding–”

A collective gasp and “oohs” escapes the group, and Hwasa clasps her hands together, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“It was my brother’s wedding.” Jin adds matter of factly.

“Yes, your brother’s wedding. Then one thing led to another and we dated for about 3 months until we broke up right when I moved for college.”

And now there was suddenly a bit of silence. Did I make the mood awkward? Oh god, maybe I should’ve made something up. You look around and see a bit of disappointment after a short rom-com summary of your first dating experience.

“Why did you need a fake date?” Namjoon was the first of your three best friends to speak up and ask. This catches you off guard.

“I…Er…”

Your hesitant response left an air of curiosity hanging around them. Namjoon's question touches on a chapter of your life you haven’t shared with anyone at all, and now, with the flickering firelight revealing the subtle expressions on everyone's faces, you feel a mix of vulnerability and uncertainty.

Why were you insistent to get a fake date back then? Even thinking about it now, it seems so silly of an idea. What were you trying to prove by having arms linked with a man, who you didn’t originally like, in front of your male best friends?

"It was to spite us. She didn't want to show up alone and have us think she couldn't find a date." Jimin interjects. He must’ve sensed you struggling to answer.

"Spiting us at a wedding? We could’ve just all gone as friends like we did for prom." Namjoon teases, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Was it really spite? Aimed at Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi for taking other girls instead just going with you? What does that really say about you? Why do you feel unhappy when they don’t have you at the center of their attention? This isn’t a good time to spiral into this.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't the best idea." you chuckle nervously, glancing quickly at Yoongi and Jimin. Their expressions are unreadable, and the silence that follows your story lingers a bit too long.

Hwasa, not one to let awkward moments fester, leans in with a playful smile, "Okay, spill. Was he a good kisser?"

"I…uh, I think this is getting a bit too personal, isn't it?"

The group erupts into laughter, dispersing the tension that momentarily settled. As the night continues, the stories shift to lighter topics, the crackling fire providing a comforting backdrop.

+++++++

The campfire's warmth lingers on your skin as you gather your things from your shared tent, preparing to head to the shower building. The night is settling in, and the laughter of your friends still echoes in the cold air. As you pass by the dwindling group still gathered around the fire, you catch Jimin's eyes for what feels like a minute. There is a depth in his gaze that leaves you wondering if he, too, is navigating through a maze of emotions from earlier today.

It’s been two months, when will you finally make up your mind instead of leaving them hanging?

Your attention is momentarily diverted by a scene that tugs at your heart. Namjoon and Soyoon are sat close, giggling animatedly about an unknown topic in the glow of the firelight. The sight of Namjoon's deepened dimples and the warmth in his smile captivates you, the flames casting shadows on them.

And there it is again. A twinge of an unknown, yet familiar feeling sparks within you. It is a feeling you couldn't entirely shake off, even though you tried to bury it beneath layers of rationality. A mix of emotions swirls as you continue on your way to the shower building.

The path to the shower building is dimly lit along the way, and the sound of laughter at the campsite slowly fades behind you.

Upon reaching the shower building, you notice Yoongi sitting by a picnic table, a dim glow from his cigarette and phone lighting up the darkness around him. It is a sight you haven’t seen in a long time, and concern creeps into your mind. You thought he stopped smoking a while back. Without hesitation, you call out to him and take a seat.

"Hey Yoongs," you begin, studying his expression, "Are you good?"

Yoongi looks up at you, caught off guard by the sudden question. He hesitates to speak, opting instead to take a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls into the night air, carrying with it a sweet yet bitter scent, reminiscent of cherries.

“Why do you say that?” He finally responds, with a question, however.

“I haven’t seen you smoke since that time.” You refer to the month right before college when Yoongi got word that his father had fallen ill and was admitted to the hospital. Yoongi doesn’t smoke unless he feels like he needs something to keep him afloat while his mind is conflicted in chaos.

“Just felt like I needed it right now.” He explains shortly.

You sense his reluctance to provide context. While you normally don’t like to pry too much when it comes to him, you feel like you should right now. Aside from whatever transparency or honesty rules you have as fuck buddies, you are his best friend at the end of the day.

You sigh softly, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Yoongi. But, you know, I'm here to listen to any of your worries. Anything. That's what best friends are for."

Yoongi's eyes widen a little from your reassuring words. It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, the ember of his cigarette glowing in the darkness as he begins to speak. "You truly are an angel that comforts me when the world has gone to shit."

You feel your cheeks heating up a bit before following it up with another question, “What’s been troubling you this bad?”

Yoongi scratches his temple anxiously before putting his phone down. “It's just…the mixtape project is weighing on me more than I thought.”

"But you always come up with something amazing when it comes to music. We literally call you the hands of Midas."

He exhales a sigh, the smoke dispersing in the air. "Yeah, but this time it's different. Professor Kang is pushing us hard, and he's been emphasizing how crucial this project is if we want him to recommend us to work for Mr. Bang."

The gravity of his words sinks in. "The Mr. Bang from that one major record label in LA you told me about?"

Yoongi nods, and you can see the anxiety in his eyes. "Exactly. But he’s only recommending two mixtapes out of our 10-person class.” He takes a minute to assemble his next thoughts, finding it hard to speak out the potential outcomes. “This could be a game-changer for my career, but it feels like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff. One wrong move, and everything could just crumble."

You remain silent, absorbing the weight of his concerns. Yoongi told you awhile back that Professor Kang is actually another big producer named Pdogg. The man is incredibly close with Mr. Shihyuk Bang, who is a part of a major record label that Yoongi has been dreaming of joining since high school. You know Yoongi doesn’t want to disappoint anyone, and that carries even more magnitude and pressure to his creative process.

"I've been working day and night, trying to create something that stands out. But with every passing day, doubt creeps in. What if it's not good enough? What if I disappoint everyone who believes in me?" Yoongi admits, his vulnerability laid bare. “Jaebeom really hit a nerve when I saw him a few weeks ago. He’s been working on good stuff too, especially with the help of some upperclassmen. I have Yijeong and Sammy giving me some feedback from time to time, but this is all done by me.”

He extinguishes the cigarette with a firm stomp, the embers scattering in the night air. Discarding the remains into the trashcan next to the table, he releases a heavy sigh, the weight of his thoughts etched on his features.

You recognize the heavy burden he carries. The expectations, the fear of failure, and the desire to prove himself in an industry that can be unforgiving – it's a lot for anyone to handle.

"I get it, Yoongi," you begin, your voice adopting a soothing cadence that seems to meld with the ambient night sounds of the forest around you. "It's a big opportunity, and it's okay to feel overwhelmed. The music industry can be relentless, and there is a lot on the line for your future.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes at you, “Thanks for confirming my fears.” He chuckles.

“Wait! But here's the thing—you're not alone in this. We're all here for you, supporting you every step of the way."

You pause, letting the words linger in the crisp night air. Yoongi looks at you, his gaze a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

"You've got an incredible talent, Yoongi," you continue, your expression earnest. "I've seen you pour your heart and soul into your music since we were in high school. Your dedication is inspiring, and it's about time the world recognizes it. The journey you’ll take will be tough, but remember, you're not just carrying your dreams. You're carrying the dreams of everyone who believes in you, and that's a powerful force."

Yoongi takes in your words, a subtle nod acknowledging the truth in them. The flickering light from the light post dances in his eyes, reflecting a renewed sense of determination.

"And, hey," you add with a soft smile, "even in the face of challenges, don't forget to savor the process. This journey is as much about the growth and experiences along the way as it is about the destination. Embrace it, and you'll find strength even in the toughest moments." You hold Yoongi’s large hand against your face, comforting him. He always likes his hands being held.

He exhales slowly, as if releasing a burden he didn't realize he was carrying. "Thanks, Y/N," he says, his voice genuine. "I needed to hear that."

Yoongi looks at you, gratitude and a touch of relief in his eyes.

As the heaviness of Yoongi's concerns lifts with your words of support, a more casual conversation takes its place. Yoongi turns to you, his gaze softening, and asks, "What have you been dreaming of lately, Y/N?

You ponder the question. As a second year in college, you haven’t spent much time thinking about it. "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure yet. Maybe a corporate job somewhere nice, stable. I don’t really have much of a dream.” Yoongi looks at you, wanting to dive deeper on that, but you chose to divert the question. “But, no matter what, I hope to be close to you and everyone else until the end of time!"

His eyes widen, filled with admiration and awe at your sincerity. It's a sentiment that seems to touch him, and you feel a sense of warmth between you two. Emotions linger in the air, as if inching closer to understanding something profound.

Suddenly, as if propelled by an internal decision, Yoongi gets up. He extends his hand towards you, his touch gentle as he grabs your wrist. He looks at you with a hint of anticipation and eagerness in his eyes.

You don’t know what he has in mind, but if you’re with Yoongi, you have nothing to fear.

Intrigued, you follow him to the shower building which was empty at this hour in the night. Without a word, he pulls you into one of the shower stalls, closing the curtain behind you both. He starts kissing you, making you gasp into his mouth. As you close your eyes, you feel yourself slipping away, and in the process, accidentally turning on the shower. The water begins to flow, causing your clothes to get wet. In response, Yoongi starts undressing you, peeling off your clothes and tossing them to the side to keep them from getting too soaked. You didn’t mind though. You were going to shower anyway.

The soft sound of running water creates a soothing ambiance. The air fills with a mix of steam and electricity as your lips keep meeting each other again and again, while the world outside the shower stall fades away.

The sounds of water droplets hitting the tiled floor mixes with the soft hum of your shared breaths. There's a delicate dance between you and Yoongi, a silent exchange of emotions that words can never capture.

As the kiss deepens, you find a certain comfort in the connection, a reassurance that goes beyond the worries and pressures of daily life. Yoongi's hands, tender and deliberate, trace a soothing path across the expanse of your back.

He pulls back slightly, his dark eyes fixed on yours. "Y/N," he breathes, his voice a soft murmur that's almost lost in the sound of running water. "Do you want me to keep going?"

All thoughts in your brain are clouded by the horny brain rot brought about by Min Yoongi. This man is probably the most dangerous out of your three best friends.

“Please.”

This is the cue Yoongi needs to suddenly unchain his desires. His hands continue to explore, tracing patterns on your skin, and the heightened awareness of where you are adds a layer of excitement. The sound of the shower and the muffled noises from outside create a cloak of privacy, but at any moment, an impending intrusion could get you both caught. You don’t want to know what consequences await that.

The pure thrill of the situation and the delicate touch of Yoongi’s hands gets you wet with little effort. He breaks away from the kiss, leaning down to swirl his tongue around one of your nipples before turning you around. He kneads your ass in his hands then slips one hand between your thighs. Without warning he pushes one finger inside you with ease.

“So wet for me already?” He whispers into your ear sending a shiver down your spine. He uses his other hand to cup your soft breast.

The sound you choke out is not intelligible which brings a low chuckle to Yoongi’s throat. He slides the finger in and out of you slowly like he’s trying to drive you insane.

When he adds another finger you can’t help the sound that espaces your lips. He moves more quickly building the pleasure inside of you. Yoongi rests his head against your shoulder putting his hands on your waist.

“I don’t have a condom with me.” He groans, mentally beating himself. You turn around to see a pout gracing his lips.

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control now.” You pause looking into his eyes.

“Really?” He says excitement lighting up his face before you can continue.

"Yup," you confirm with a playful wink. "I had been thinking about going on it when we made the deal to include Jimin, and I finally did it over winter break."

Yoongi chuckles, reaching to hold your chin gently with his fingertips, ensuring your eyes stay locked on his. "Such a little minx. You planning to do something scandalous with that?"

You eye him mischievously. "Maybe… but no risks tonight. Let's take it steady for now."

He turns you back around and gently guides your shoulder until you are bent over. He unzips his pants, revealing his hardened cock and holds it in his hand. With no resistance, he glides inside you and groans at the feeling.

You’ve never done this before. Not with Wonwoo. Not with Yeonjun. Yoongi is the first to go raw in you, and it feels so damn good. Every vein and curve of his dick is felt in your pussy, molding itself as the perfect fit. You don’t know if you could ever go back to the feeling of a condom-covered dick, but you’d have to. Though you’d hope that you’d get to be safely creampied at least once before going back to double coverage of condom and BC protection. That’s one of your ultimate goals, though you won’t let them know.

Yoongi traces his fingers up your side as he thrusts into you with long slow strokes. He is enjoying the thrill of being this close to you in such a risky environment and savoring every moment.

You find yourself lost in the intense pleasure he brings, each thrust a wave of delicious sensation that floods your entire body. You arch your back, allowing him deeper access. The slight pain from his movements intertwines with the pleasure, making this experience all the more unforgettable.

Yoongi's gaze never leaves your face, his eyes locked on you as he pushes deeper into your warmth. Your own eyes are wide with passion, the fear of getting caught replaced by the thrill of the moment. His fingers dig into your hip, his expression a mix of raw lust and pure adoration.

"Look at you," he growls, "You're so wet, and so tight just milking me.” He whispers against your ear, driving you slow to become viscerally animalistic. You’re so close.

Suddenly, as if the world wanted to manifest your worst fears, the door swings open. The voices of Hwasa and Soohyun echo through the shower building. Panic sets in, and you tense, trying to stifle any telltale sounds of your current sexcapade. Yoongi, ever the master of composure, holds back a laugh at your panic without halting his movements. How is he not worried?!

"Steam? Oh, someone’s already in here? Is it you, Honey?" Hwasa's voice calls out.

You struggle to respond, caught between pleasure and the risk of exposure. Yoongi's movements pause briefly, awaiting your cue. "Y-Yes," you manage to stutter out despite feeling how good his dick feels stuck inside of you.

Hwasa, seemingly oblivious, starts a conversation with you about the night as the two girls do their nightly skincare at the sinks behind your showers. She begins touching on the earlier confessions and how it was a fun activity. You struggle to act like you're paying attention, but all you can muster in response are muffled "Mhms." Each of them start to sound like moans, which scares you even more. Yoongi looks like he wants to laugh so bad. This won’t end well. Can the girls tell something is off?

The proximity to getting caught adds a thrilling layer to the encounter. Yoongi decides to continue several strokes mid conversation, “A-Ah..”

Hwasa's concern grows. "Are you okay, Honey?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," you manage through gritted teeth, looking back at Yoongi looking smug. You desperately hope they won't linger. Another noise escapes, and you quickly try to cover it up, pretending it was you dropping your shampoo bottle on your toe.

The girls, unsuspecting, leave not too long after, and you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The tension lifts, and a soft, shared laugh between you and Yoongi echoes in the confined space.

Without warning, this is Yoongi’s cue to go faster. He grips your hips tightly holding you into place as he thrusts into you harder and faster leaving you.

"Y-Yoongi!" He grips your hips tightly holding you into place as he thrusts into you harder and faster leaving you.

Your eyes flutter, a lustful grin pulling at your lips lost in ecstasy. Gripping the shower wall for support, you meet Yoongi's thrusts with equal intensity, your hips bucking back against him in perfect rhythm. The pleasure is overwhelming, the tension and fear of being caught only adding fuel to the fire.

His name from your lips was music to his ears, and that was all he needed. He moves deeper, relishing the tightness of your body around his member. You feel the pleasure coursing through your own body, your orgasm nearing.

Yoongi's eyes never leave your face, his expression showing that he's drinking in each detail of this moment.

"Come for me, baby," he growls, his tone changing from a mix of lust and adoration to something more possessive. "Let me feel you come around my dick."

His words are the spark that lights the fire, and you feel your body reacting to his touch. The waves of pleasure crash over you, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your nails hold onto dear life, and you cry out his name, your voice echoing in the shower stall.

“F-Fuck.” Yoongi soon falls to his own pleasure, pulling out quickling and cumming on your ass. Drops of his cream drip down your thighs and soon washed away by the shower downpouring on you two.

You both try to control your breathing as Yoongi holds you close in an embrace.

“T-That was…oh my God.” You can’t find the words to explain the whole experience, added with the adrenaline rush of getting caught.

“Good to know my cock feels better without the condom.” He smiles in a goofy way, still high on the orgasm. You smack him in the hip with your hand.

When your orgasms subsides, you send Yoongi to go retrieve your toiletries, towel, and pajamas that you left outside by the picnic table you two sat. You two bid goodbye to each for the night, and he leaves. You don’t know how he’s going to explain why he’s soaked from head to toe, but you pray he’s slick enough to avoid any eyes.

+++++++++

As Yoongi walks back from the shower house, water droplets cling to his tousled hair and drip down onto his damp clothes. His steps are sluggish as he wearily tries to wring out the water. In this moment, Namjoon suddenly strides up, his curiosity piqued, eyes narrowing at the unusual sight.

"Yoongi, why the hell are you all wet?" Namjoon questions, checking out the shorter man up and down.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just checking out the shower building, man. One of them was broken and here I am." He cheekily points to his wet attire. He feels a euphoric confidence after his rendezvous with you. So much so that if anyone tries to challenge him right now, he will not back down.

Namjoon narrows his eyes, finding it a little hard to believe. "Really? I thought I saw you go smoke alone back at the picnic area."

Oddly, this observation pisses him off.

"Didn’t know you liked stalking my whereabouts too." Yoongi is quick to rebuttal, bitterness lacing in his voice. Namjoon is taken aback by his best friend’s response.

"What are you even talking about? Aren’t you the one hiding—" Just as Namjoon is about to press further, Jimin appears, interrupting the conversation.

“What are you guys up to?” Jimin puts his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders, which makes him relax slightly. He knows Jimin can manage to get Namjoon off his ass. He might even say that Jimin is his second angel tonight.

Namjoon glances between both of them, the tension palpable in the air. Yoongi's demeanor seems a tad defensive, and Namjoon feels there might be more to the story than he thought before.

“Just trying to figure out why Yoongi here looks like he went for a swim."

Yoongi rolls his eyes, dismissing Namjoon's inquiry. "Shower issues, Jimin. Nothing to worry about."

"Come on Joon, let's not make a big deal out of this. It's cold, and we're out in the middle of nowhere. Let’s just get him a towel and help him get a change of clothes." Jimin says casually, diverting Namjoon's attention away from Yoongi.

As Yoongi gives Jimin a subtle nod of gratitude, Namjoon reluctantly lets the matter go, deciding to drop the interrogation for now to help. Jimin seems to have an idea about Yoongi's whereabouts in the last 30 minutes, and he's not spilling the beans to Namjoon.

“If you think I haven’t caught on to you guys getting closer to Y/N in the last few months, you’re wrong.” The taller man says, warning heeding his voice.

The shorter men glance at him, not saying anything and enter Yoongi’s tent. They do share one thought at that moment though. You have to give them an answer once they come back to campus.

+++++++++

January 20 [Sunday]

The second day of the camping trip unfolds, and the group embarks on a hike through the scenic surroundings early in the morning after breakfast. The weather, though chilly, is pleasant, and the crisp air invigorates everyone. Conversations ebb and flow as the trail winds its way through the tree-filled landscape.

Jieun, a few steps ahead, animatedly shares memories of visiting this place during her childhood. "I remember catching fireflies by the lake in the summer." she reminisces, her eyes reflecting the nostalgia. Seokjin, walking beside her, chimes in with a grin, "I used to come here a lot too when I was a boy scout.”

Hoseok, Taehyung and Jungkook snicker in response to this.

“You guys can laugh all you want, but these boy scout skills come in handy."

"I don't know about them, but for sure Jungkook can fight a bear barehanded." Yoongi playfully remarks, the group erupting into even more laughter. Jungkook, sporting a lighthearted grin, flexes his muscles jokingly.

As you walk, you notice Namjoon and Soyoon strolling together. Soyoon, despite the chilly weather, wears a form-fitting pine green turtleneck that lacks the expected thermal warmth. Namjoon, ever the gentleman, notices her discomfort from the cold and offers his jacket. She initially refuses, probably mindful of the potential interpretations of their exchange. But after Namjoon continues insisting, he finally accepts with a gracious smile.

Behind Namjoon, you see Hoseok also catches the scene and shoots him a disapproving look.

Further back, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin seize the opportunity to tease Namjoon about his chivalrous gesture. "Look at Mr. Romantic over there." Jimin smirks, nudging Taehyung and Jungkook.

"I bet he practices that move in front of a mirror." Taehyung chuckles with them.

Namjoon, momentarily caught off guard by their reactions, glances at them and then immediately at you. He seems to be searching for a reaction. You know you struggle at being fake. It’s not in your nature to hide your feelings. Though, you feel like he does sense a subtle frustration from you. He wonders if you have been feeling like this for some time. Why is he starting to see it only now?

Before he even has the chance to go over to you and question it, the sky suddenly transforms, heavy raindrops plummet from the clouds and onto the earth. Great. It's as if the weather gods have decided to test you and see what you would do. However, panic sets in when you realize you left your laptop in the tent, vulnerable to the impending downpour.

“Holy fuck! My laptop!”

“Wait, Y/N!”

Hastily, you dash back down the path toward the campgrounds, your footsteps echoing in the mud leaving behind a voice that calls out to you.

You worked on your assignment last night in the tent before going to sleep. Once you finished for the night, you left your laptop next to you and that was where you last saw it this morning before you left on the hike as well. There are no signs it was going to rain this weekend. Yeah, the soil seems moist from rainy days from the prior week, but everyone should’ve been safe now. How could the weather change so suddenly like this?

You recklessly sprint, fueled by worries of your irreplaceable laptop and paper, amongst other things. Like reality. And the irritation you feel seeing Namjoon keep giving his attention to— Your thought process cuts as you notice the uneven terrain beneath your feet become treacherous. The realization of the potential catastrophe awaiting you propels you forward, a surge of adrenaline pushing you beyond reason.

In your haste, disaster strikes. A misstep, a slippery surface, and you find yourself sprawled on the ground.

No sound from you, but pain radiating from your scraped knee and throbbing ankle. The once jubilant group following behind is now consumed by concern seeing you on the ground, injured and covered in mud.

Jungkook and Jieun are the first to reach you, genuine worry etched across their faces. "Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice carries a note of genuine concern. Wincing in pain, you shake your head, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "I left my laptop in the tent, and I can't let anything happen to it, so I rushed off." you explain, your words rushed and pained. You feel yourself about to sob as you try to get yourself to stand and your legs are not cooperating.

“Hey, hey, be careful.” The younger man advises. However, the pain makes walking nearly impossible. Before anyone can offer help, Jungkook immediately leans down and decides,“You know what, just get on. I’ll take you somewhere safe.” Jungkook offers, gesturing you to get on his back.

The unexpected gesture catches you off guard.

“O-Okay…thank you Jungkook.”

“I’ll help retrieve your laptop as well. You’ll be okay” Jieun says, and you thank her.

However, as Jungkook carries you through the rain-soaked trail, glances are exchanged among the group. Jimin and Yoongi share a look laden with unsaid sentiments, a subtle pang of jealousy lingering in the air. It should’ve been them to help you, they think to themselves. They are the ones that like you after all. Though for some reason, they froze in that moment.

Namjoon, still grappling with the aftermath of his earlier actions, feels a tinge of disappointment in his own inability to respond swiftly too.

You, Jungkook, and Jieun are the first to make it back to witness the mess. The campsite now lies in disarray. Flooded and muddy soil squelches beneath Jungkook’s feet, and the aftermath of strong winds has left tents in tatters. Items that were once neatly arranged outside the tents now scatter across the ground, casualties of nature's sudden fury.

Amidst the chaos, Jieun takes charge, her quick eyes scanning the wreckage. Miraculously, your laptop emerges unscathed, protected by the cocoon of your sleeping bag. With a relieved smile, she carefully places it in its bag next to it and hands it to Jungkook, who holds it securely.

"We can't stay out here like this," Jin remarks, his practicality cutting through the disappointment that hangs in the air. "It could rain again and we could also get sick."

A collective sigh ripples through the group. The abrupt turn of events forces them to confront the reality of their situation. Plans of an idyllic hike and spending a weekend outdoors have been derailed by the unpredictability of nature.

"I can go check the cabin lodging next to the campsite to see if they have any available," Soyoon suggests, her willingness to take charge evident. Namjoon quickly volunteers to accompany her, the two of them lightly jog toward the lodging office.

In the meantime, everyone takes shelter under the picnic area until the downpour turns into light showers. Once it does, everyone starts packing up and cleaning the campsite in the meantime.

++++++++++++++++++

Luckily, Soyoon and Namjoon manage to book a large cabin by the lakefront.

“It was the only largest one available that could fit all of us. It’s also a little expensive…” Namjoon stated earlier. Seokjin shrugs, saying he’ll cover majority of the cost as long as everyone is able to chip in a little. We all agree. You thank god that Seokjin is the rich friend in the friend group during times like this.

The cabin charms with its cozy allure. A fully stocked kitchen was just what everyone needed right now. The gas BBQ included will definitely be useful to the meats that survived the storm. The upstairs living room invites relaxation with comfy seating and a Smart TV. Everyone immediately takes advantage of this and sits around.

Outdoors, the upper deck beckons with stunning views. Downstairs, the master bedroom offers luxury, a California King bed, and a sliding door to the lower deck overlooking the lake.

Four rooms in total provide ample sleeping space, including a bunk room with two sets of twin bunk beds. Practicality meets convenience with a fully equipped laundry room and an upstairs half bath.

Jungkook carries you into the master bedroom and lays you down on the bed, elevating your head with the pillows. Seokjin grabs a first aid kit he found in the kitchen and takes out bandages, disinfectant and other supplies to tend to your scraped knee and sprained ankle.

“See, told you my boy scout skills will come in handy!” You giggle at Jin’s attempt to cheer you up. As he works, Namjoon hovers nearby, his concern evident.

"You should’ve been careful." Namjoon murmurs, a gentle scolding in his tone.

You manage a sheepish smile, acknowledging his warning. Seokjin finishes the impromptu first aid session, making sure you're comfortable before stepping back.

"Thank you, Jin," you express your gratitude, relieved that the injuries aren't as severe as they could have been.

Seokjin waves it off, "No problem. Just take it easy for a while."

Jin and Jungkook disperse to join the others upstairs. Jimin and Yoongi, lingering at the doorway, exchange a glance.

Jimin steps forward, concern etched on his face. "How are you feeling, Honey?” he asks, sincerity in his eyes.

You nod, offering a reassuring smile. "Alright now, thanks to Jinnie. Thanks for worrying, Jimin."

Yoongi, standing a bit more reserved, adds, "Do you need anything? I can whip up some food."

"That would sound really good right about now."

"Give me about 20 minutes, and I'll come back with some sweet rice porridge. Sounds good?"

"Yes!"

Namjoon remains standing there watching your interaction with them. He feels somehow intimidated by how they're so much closer to you despite you all having the same title of "best friends".

He glances at your laptop on the nearby table trying to find a reason to remain here. While part of him wants to join the others upstairs, he lingers. Maybe he needs to let you know about his feelings soon before his relationship with you strains any further.

He sighs loudly, making you all look at him, “I’ll come back to talk to you later.” He excuses himself and follows Yoongi upstairs, leaving Jimin alone with you.

Aside from the fact that he’s upset that you got hurt, you’re not sure what else could be fueling an unknown frustration behind his eyes. You guess you’ll find out later.

Jimin has some thoughts about Namjoon’s behavior, but decides not to voice them right now and gives his attention back to you.

“You need to get out of these clothes, love. They’re really muddy and gross.” He comments, looking at you with a disgusted expression, making you laugh.

“I would try, but I literally can’t move much.”

“I’ll help you.”

Huh? Did Jimin just say he’ll help you undress yourself? You find yourself feeling very flustered suddenly. What if someone walks in? Locking the door seems suspicious but what else can you do?

“I-It’s fine! I’ll just try removing my clothes slowly one piece at a time!” You wave your hands frantically, creating a makeshift barricade against Jimin's helpful hands.

“Why are you being so shy right now? I’ve seen you naked at least 15 times by now.” he remarks, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

“H-Hey! Shut up! What if someone hears you?”

“Everyone’s upstairs, probably playing board games in the living room. Yoongi won’t be back for another 10 minutes or so. Plus he’s seen you naked too.” He checks his phone. “And he just texted the Sanctuary chat to say that he’ll come in whenever I’m done.” He flashes the text messages Yoongi sent.

You can’t continue arguing with a concerned Jimin, so you decide to surrender.

“Fine, just be quick.”

Jimin's eyes turn into crescents, satisfied he won this battle. He carefully removes your lilac puffer jacket, followed by your black converse sneakers and then your medium washed jeans covered in mostly dried mud and blood from your knee scrape. When he finishes gently unbuttoning your cropped long-sleeve polo shirt and removing it, he starts giggling. Perplexed, you shoot him a puzzled look, unsure what’s so funny to him. I mean, sitting here half naked is humiliating, so maybe you deserve it. You’ve been acting reckless.

“You’re just so pretty, Y/N. Never thought I’d be in a situation to even see you like this before the deal we made.”

Heat fills your face and you can’t even find words to rebuttal his claims. Why have those two men been saying things that make you feel like you’re going insane?

Jimin knows you feel embarrassment, but pays no mind as he unclasps your black bra, removing it and leaving your breasts bare. He decides to tease you a bit more and softly grasps your breasts, squishing them with his hands. Your eyes widen, suddenly feeling a surge of heat radiating elsewhere due to your chests’ sensitivity.

“I really never realized how beautiful you look naked before.” he admits with a playful tone. He continues with his massage until you finally fight back the horny demon that he awakens in you. Not today, Satan.

You playfully smack his arm, urging him to stop. “O-Okay, Jimin! I get it! Just give me that oversized t-shirt from my duffle and leave before I go crazy.”

He chuckles, relinquishing his playful antics and retrieving the desired t-shirt from your bag. “Glad I was able to cheer you up a bit, darling. We’ll have fun another time.”

Once he ensures you're comfortably tucked in, he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead before exiting the room.

Oddly, that felt a lot more intimate than all the sex you two had before. It feels like you two are inching closer to a new territory beyond whatever fuck buddy and best friend relationship you have. You feel a little scared, but somewhat excited.

Before you can dwell on it further, you feel your body become heavier and you gradually drift into a peaceful slumber. You make just a small mental note to apologize to Yoongi for falling asleep before he can feed you some of his porridge.

+++++++++++

Several hours have passed and it is 2:30PM by the time you wake up from your nap. You were hoping to sleep for the rest of the day to avoid whatever confrontation Namjoon wants to have. You are still feeling tingles from the interaction you had with Jimin, but it proved too difficult with your sprained ankle getting in the way. There is also a group of your friends upstairs that will get suspicious at his sudden disappearance if that did happen.

Hwasa has sent you text updates regarding what everyone else is doing upstairs.

Hyejinnie [12:00PM]: I’m going to send you updates so you don’t feel FOMO Hyejinnie [12:01PM]: Wait you might.. I’m sorry bestie. ;( Welp, we are playing board games and eating snacks! Hyejinnie [1:22PM]: I’m helping ur boyfie make lunch with jieun eonnie. Oh and we’re all going to eat kbbq for dinner. Don’t miss out Hyejinnie [1:25PM]: wait not your boyfie i forget he’s just your fwb right now oops. pls ignore. Hyejinnie [2:07PM]: also you need to catch me up on whatever is going on with you and your.. friends. Don’t think i haven’t caught on ;p Hyejinnie [2:14PM]: I think we’re going to watch a movie now. Jieun said she’s going to show us a movie her old crush was in and we have to guess who it is lol Hyejinnie [2:25PM]: idk if you’re up from your nap, but let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the living room watching the movie with everyone else. Some of the guys are on their phones though haha

You appreciate her consistent updates while you remain MIA from the trip festivities. Maybe you should take this quiet time as a chance to get back to working on your paper. You just need a few more paragraphs and a final revision before submitting it on Canvas.

Just as you plop your laptop on your lap, a strong knock is heard at the door. You yell to whoever is on the other side of the door that it's okay to enter. It turns out to be Namjoon.

You don’t feel mentally ready to talk to him yet. You’re honestly not sure if you can come up with any cohesive thoughts as you remember that you haven’t eaten since this morning. You glance around and see the bowl of porridge Yoongi must’ve left on the bedside table while you slept.

“I wanted to come in sooner, but Yoongi told me you fell asleep.”

You nod. “I felt really exhausted after that hike, the run and injury, so I knocked out once I felt safe enough to do so.”

“So is now a good time to talk?”

You feel hesitant to say yes, knowing another lecture from your tall, beefy best friend awaits you. You’re so over this trip. Despite all these feelings, you decide just to do it and get it out the way so you can eat.

You nod. “Okay, what did you want to ask me?”

“Why have you been acting really weird lately?”

He doesn’t hesitate to get straight to the point, which doesn’t surprise you much. Okay, so you’ve been caught. But what about you has been weird to him though? Does that mean the others have caught on to your behavior too?

You feign ignorance. “Can you elaborate by what you mean, Namjoon?” Your voice sounds deadpan, with a hint of coldness.

“Can you stop acting like you don’t know what you’re doing when you’ve been staring at me and Soyoon throughout this whole trip?”

Oh.

You shrug. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He ignores your remark and continues, “I already told you before. There is nothing going on between me and her, so you can just stop feeling jealous or whatever.”

Jealous? What?! How dare he make that accusation. You’re not jealous. You’re just worried for the sake of your friendship. There’s no other feelings tied to that…is there? Memories from the party in October where you saw Namjoon and Jihyo flash in your mind.

“No the fuck I’m not!” you immediately deny, a little too quick at that.

“Yes, you fucking are.” he smiles, knowing how right he is based on your defensive response.

“You’re sorely mistaken, Joon.”

“No, I’m not, Y/N. I noticed this even when I was seeing Jihyo and the girl before that. For some reason, you’re always acting off when another girl is involved with me.” He explains further.

Fuck. He really caught on to that a little too well. You know what, maybe he is right. Maybe you’re not jealous out of concern that these girls that keep showing up in Namjoon’s life will take him away from you. It’s really because you wish you were in their place. Being so intimately closer to him than you have ever been. Another flying thought of Yoongi’s questions that caused you to spiral comes to mind.

“You literally do that to me! I couldn’t even go somewhere without you acting weird and accusing me of hanging out with other men who do not live in our house.”

“That’s different.” He rubs the crease between his brows, you press your lips even tighter in frustration. “Plus, I don’t even think I trust some of the ones that do live in our house.”

Namjoon’s comment has you puzzled. What is he trying to imply?

“Why do you think that?”

“I’ve just had a feeling that something weird is going on, and everyone seems to know except for me.”

Shit, everyone? You’ve been cautious this whole time except when you first slept with Yoongi, leading Jungkook to find out. But Jin, Hoseok and Taehyung? Have they somehow realized and have been quiet about it. There’s no way to address something you don’t even know. You have to redirect the conversation.

“You say that, but you’re the one being so vague about why you've been so buddy buddy with Soyoon lately.” You mutter with an attitude, crossing your arms. “You don’t have to hide it and lie to me if you’re interested in her. Just go date her already.”

Namjoon scoffs. He walks closer to you, outstretching his arms on both of your sides, caging you. He’s so close, smelling like the fresh wood sage cologne he sprays on after a shower. For some reason, this smell is more intoxicating right now than ever before. Your heartbeat feels like it’s increasing from the close proximity. This isn’t even the first time you’ve been this close to him, but there’s some kind of energy making you feel anxious than before.

“Because I don’t fucking want to.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“You.” Namjoon mouths out, words so quiet feeling like only you two are meant to hear.

“Huh? Me?” You scrunch your eyebrows while whispering at him. “Is my jealousy really getting in the way of you being happy?”

“You’re one of the smartest people I know and you still want me to spell it out for you?” He chuckles bitterly, seemingly feeling like he’s going to regret the next sentence that’s going to come out of his mouth.

You nod, “Yes, because I’m still confused about your actions and I’m tired of the constant misunderstandings and fights— ”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

The world suddenly goes silent for what feels like a thousand minutes.

Your mouth is left agape, unable to find any reason to continue speaking. Whatever thought bubbles filled your head with anger and anxiety are now gone. You find it hard to gather the next words you say from looking right into Namjoon’s dragon eyes, mesmerizing you.

“Y-You’re in l-love with me.” The realization escapes your lips, rather shaky, The words hanging in the air, charged with an unexpected gravity.

Namjoon takes a deep breath, his eyes holding a mix of determination and vulnerability. "Yes, I've been in love with you for a long time. Soyoon was in the process of helping me confess to you on Valentine's Day, but with you acting jealous and making up scenarios in your head, I couldn't keep it a secret any longer."

Your mind races, processing his confession. Namjoon, your best friend, has just declared his love for you. The first one out of your friends… but is he? You vaguely remember Yoongi saying something similar during that one party, but you brushed it off. There’s also Hwasa’s observations… Jimin’s kiss on his birthday…

Oh no.

The gravity of the situation sinks in, and your internal conflict intensifies. You're entangled in a complicated fuck buddies deal with Yoongi and Jimin, who potentially may be in love with you too. And now a lot of these things are starting to make sense,

Then there’s Namjoon's words adding a new layer of concern. How will this confession affect your shit with Yoongi and Jimin? You like all of them but do you love them? You also do not live in a perfect universe to be dating all of them. Would they even want that?

Namjoon must sense your anxiety skyrocketing, because he leans in and kisses your forehead. And for just a bit, you go back to feeling floaty. You want to feel like this all the time, but it’s not going to happen anytime soon. You have things to resolve.

“You probably have a lot on your mind. I do too.” He cups your cheeks, sincerely staring into your eyes. “You don’t have to answer me right now. I just wanted to ease your mind before anything else happens.”

You nod back slowly, waiting for him to continue.

“I might be gone for the fall semester.” He starts, moving over to sit on your bed.

Oh.

“I applied for a study abroad law program in New Zealand and Korea. I’ll be in my last year and my parents told me over winter break that they want me to go abroad and gain some new experience. I see Yoongi working so hard and I feel like I haven’t been doing much at all.”

This new information comes as a shock to you, and you feel excited for him, yet sad for several reasons

Namjoon had fought with his parents last summer about wanting to pursue a career as an archivist or art conservator. They said it wasn’t ideal and that he should focus on being a civil servant and then become a politician. He came over to your house once and stayed the night in your room, shedding tears about how his parents didn’t understand him.

The second reason is more selfish: You’ve never been apart from Namjoon for a long time since you first met him. Sure, since you guys have a one year age difference, there were times that you weren’t at the same school together. Though, it’s not like you never saw each other at least some point in the week. You’re neighbors after all. This would be different. Maybe there will be an occasional facetime call or texts sent during different time zones from him retelling his adventures. Though it won’t be the same as having him with you. You’re not going to admit that right now though.

“So you’re not going to pursue art and become an archivist or art conservator anymore?”

“I…I am. I’ll find a way to prove to my parents that I can do this and be successful. I’ll network, find a way to get into that space more. Studying abroad would be a great way to do that.” He explains softly.

You remember the question Yoongi had asked yesterday about your dreams. You still feel like you don’t have a concrete answer, but seeing the way your older best friends try so hard makes you think you should start focusing on that as well. You wonder if Jimin has any thoughts of his own regarding the future too.

Namjoon continues to converse with you about his future plans and why he had to confess to you now, as he didn’t want it to be “too late” and regret it later on. While you don’t ask him what he meant by that, you kind of had an idea.

++++++++

Once Namjoon leaves your room to rejoin everyone upstairs, the floaty and relaxed feeling inside you fades away and you immediately start to feel like shit.

The truth begins to bear down on you: Yoongi and Jimin's friends-with-benefits arrangement might not be just a casual fling. They probably like you too — well, more than a best friend. The deal was probably to act as a trial period, a way for them to express their feelings without the complexity of a formal confession and for you to realize some repressed feelings. Although now, with Namjoon's direct and sincere confession, you just simply don’t know what to do anymore.

Things were easier when you didn’t have to think about this much originally with Yoongi. Just have sex from time to time and still remain best friends. When Jimin managed to seduce you, awakening something within you, and get added as fuck buddy #2, you had stepped into a dangerous zone. Now the thought of Namjoon getting added to that…

No! He’d never do it. He’s not as open-minded and insane to become your third fuck buddy. If he found out, you don’t think he’d be happy. He’d probably murder Yoongi and Jimin for hiding and doing such an insane thing. Then you’d be next. And even if you’d add Namjoon to this fuck buddies trial deal, you don’t think anyone would be happy in the end.

You love them all. No favoritism for one over the others. They all have something that makes you feel butterflies, whether you realized it before or not.

Is this the perfect time to talk to Hwasa about your dilemma? You don’t even think you’ve told her about you and Jimin, but she’s perceptive. She probably saw some signs, but hadn’t commented on them.

You [4:03PM]: Hey Hwasa, we need to have a girl talk time. Hyejinnie [4:04PM]: Say no more! I’m telling Jungkook to come carry you up so we can talk in my room.

And just when you received that message, Jungkook shows up at the door and bows to you.

“I have been requested to bring up the Honey Princess to Hwasa’s room.”

You laugh. He’s adorable, you think. “Yes? Please take me up, Sir Jungkook.”

Jungkook carries you on his back once again, up the stairs. You take a glance of Yoongi, Jieun, Jin and Namjoon in the kitchen, preparing dinner before you are in Hwasa and Soohyun’s shared room at the end of the hall. Jungkook comments that he’s getting you ice to make your ankle’s swelling go down, leaving the room. You faintly hear him scolding your guy besties for not doing that earlier, making you guys laugh. He comes back with a bag of ice and then exits the room, closing the door in the process.

Hwasa greets you with a warm smile as you settle onto the bed, propping yourself up against the pillows. This bedroom is adorned with fairy lights, creating a cozy atmosphere that contrasts the turmoil in your mind. Hwasa, perceptive as always, senses that something serious is on your mind.

"So spill, what's going on?" she asks, her eyes filled with concern.

You take a deep breath, contemplating where to begin. "Remember my thing with Yoongi…” You whisper, hoping no one outside could hear. The TV is pretty loud playing someone’s Spotify playlist though.

“Yes, of course! Are y’all still…”

“We are.” Hwasa nods in response. “I’ve been keeping things lowkey so I haven’t told you much advancements, but I also started doing that with Jimin."

Her eyes widen, not in surprise, but more in confirmation of her past observations. “I figured that might’ve been the case when I kept seeing you be a little more touchier than usual in class last semester."

Your face reddens as you remark. “Nothing really passes by you, does it?” Hwasa can’t help but laugh at your reaction.

“You’re literally living the dream!” She holds both of your hands, intrigued at your ‘love life’. “They’re two of the finest frat boys on this campus. I don’t see how there can be a problem.”

"Except there is…" you admit, unraveling your overall deal with Jimin and Yoongi, your thoughts about them probably liking you and the argument you had with Namjoon earlier. As you share the details, Hwasa listens attentively, offering occasional nods and empathetic expressions.

"Wow, that's…a lot," she remarks when you finish. "And now Namjoon dropped the bomb? He’s equally as hot too."

You nod, feeling the weight of the situation. "Exactly. I never expected him to confess. I didn’t think he felt that way about me. Now, I'm stuck in this mess, and I don't know what to do!" You fall back onto the pillows, looking at the ceiling in frustration.

Hwasa places a comforting hand on yours. "First things first, take a deep breath.” You do. “It's a lot to process, but you'll figure it out. Now, tell me how you feel about each of them. Let’s start with Jimin"

“Jimin is someone who I feel comfortable with to try new things. He’s always managed to get me out of my shell and without him, I don’t think I’d be the person I am today. He’s also really kinky in bed so…Soft dom vibes?”

“Okay, spicy, I see! And Yoongi?”

“Yoongi feels like my soulmate…even Jimin pointed it out. We’re so in tune with one another that I don’t feel so on edge around him. I feel more relaxed. But I’m so emotionally driven and sometimes he doesn’t get that. Though he does try. Always does.”

Hwasa coughs repeatedly, “How’s the sex?”

“I… It’s really fucking good. Getting fingered by a man who plays the guitar is another worldly experience. Ten out of ten.” Hwasa squeals hearing this, but quickly covers her mouth to avoid anyone coming in concerned.

“Well holy shit. I guess that leaves Namjoon?”

“Namjoon, right.” You haven’t thought about it much before, but it was mainly because you’ve tried not to see him like that. He was obviously attractive with his muscles and tall height. His brains are another thing. “Aside from how obviously hot he’s always been, his mind is just so eloquent. He’s such a big brother at times and while I get annoyed at his lecturing, he makes me feel grounded and keeps challenging me to work harder. I don’t know what else to say?”

You find that articulating your emotions brings a sense of clarity. Hwasa provides thoughtful insights and asks probing questions, guiding you through the maze of your own emotions.

Once you've laid out your feelings, Hwasa leans back, pondering. "Alright, here's what I think. You need to have an honest conversation with all of them. Start off with Yoongi and Jimin, then somehow get Namjoon in that conversation. Lay your cards on the table, and let them know where you stand. It's the only way to avoid misunderstandings and hurt feelings."

You sigh, realizing the truth in her words. "But what if I can't choose between them? What if I ruin everything?"

Hwasa smirks, "Then, my dear, you need to consider a different kind of arrangement—one that works for all parties involved. But that's a discussion for another day. For now, focus on being open and honest with them. You owe it to yourself and to them."

“You’re right. Thank you Hwasa for hearing me out on my crazy dramatic life. I appreciate you so much.” You gesture her to get closer so you can give her a hug, and she does.

+++++++++++

After your heart-to-heart with Hwasa, Jungkook comes in to let you know that dinner is ready and that he’ll be taking you over there. You appreciate his kindness.

The delicious aroma of the meat wafts through the air as you enter the kitchen, where the group is gathered around the table, engaged in lively conversation.

Jin, always the culinary maestro, tells everyone to take their seats. As you settle in, you can't help but glance at your three best friends at different points during the meal.

Yoongi is focused on grilling meat, his brows furrowed in concentration. The subtle scent of his cooking skills fills the air, momentarily distracting you from your internal conflict. You catch his eye, and there's a silent understanding between you two.

Jimin, sitting across from you, steals occasional glances your way. His gaze is warm and comforting, reassuring you that no matter the complications, he's there for you. A small smile passes between you that speaks volumes.

Namjoon, busy discussing something with Hoseok, occasionally looks in your direction. There's a mix of emotions in his eyes—longing, and perhaps a touch of hope.

The dinner is filled with laughter and camaraderie as the trip ends tonight. You try to savor the meal and the company, but the weight of the unspoken hangs in the air.

As the night progresses, you find yourself more restless. The uncertainty of your situation gnaws at you. Once dinner concludes, you and the other girls go to the living room to watch some youtube videos on the smart TV. As they busy themselves talking about stuff, you grab your phone and open the group chat with Yoongi and Jimin.

You [8:45PM]: Valentine’s Day. I’ll give you my decision.

Sending the message, you brace yourself for the conversations that lie ahead. Whatever happens, you face it headstrong.

–

–

tbc :O a/n: uh-oh we're getting to the conflicting part hehehehe !!! i apologize for the delay getting this chapter out. i am currently working on some big things and doing some interviews so the fic had been neglected for a month or so, but i am back for a bit and already working on CH 8 as well! Anyone have any thoughts or theories on what Y/N will decide to say? i'd love to hear about them so lmk hehehe thank you all for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist! ➸ love u lately series masterlist

[chrisdr3]

Win, win ~ CL16

Charles x Mechanic!Reader

Fluff

Summary: Charles starts to fall for Y/n and one late night he decides to confess.

A/n: This is the first fic with a driver's pov I've ever written, and I think it turned out really good. Enjoy

This is not my first language, so don't judge mistakes.

Monza 2024

Charles was beyond happy with himself, beyond satisfied with the car and team. In just one single season he won the two races he always dreamt of winning. His podium was unforgettable, the crowd was ecstatic. He managed to give Ferrari a home win, he managed to win for the 2nd time in Monza, the Temple of Speed.

He was ecstatic too. He had months to feel so good, so satisfied with himself. He felt like he was reborn, all the problems and fails felt like a bad dream. The team was in a good mood, the air filled with happiness.

They celebrated for hours, singing, dancing, drinking and spraying champagne. But something, someone was missing from this wild party. His race engineer, Y/n.

He excused himself without saying it to anyone, besides they were all too busy celebrating to notice. He made his way through the garage to go to the debrief room, guessing she might've be there. Indeed she was, sitting in front of her laptop with a cup of coffee in her hand. He was relieved, because he was feeling too lazy to search the whole garage.

Charles approached her carefully, being as quiet as he could, trying not to startle or distract her. She didn't seem to notice him, not untill he spoke. "What are you doing here all alone, hm? You're supposed to be celebrating." He said, voice soft.

She was slightly startled by his voice, not expecting him there. "Oh...eh... working." She responded, placing the now cold coffee down on the desk. "You're always working, you should take a break." He said, slightly worried. She ignored him. He couldn't just stand there and watch her do nothing but work all night, so he decided to take this into his own hands.

He took her laptop and saved her work, then shut it down, ignoring her complaints. He placed it into her backpack and sat down next to her. "Well, now it's just the two of us, I wanna tell you something." Charles started, his voice calm. Y/n just looked at him, her eyes showing she was curious about what he was gonna say.

Charles then continued. "It might not have been long till we met, before the Monaco GP, but I think you've been my lucky charm. I mean, I won my home race 3 days after I met you." He then paused for a bit, before continuing.

"You're a funny, kind person and you love your job. And except that, you're very pretty and you are always finding a chance to express your opinions, and they're damn good." Charles stopped again. She was looking a bit caught off guard. "Charles y-you..." "Like you, yes." He finished her sentence. His hand touched hers.

There was an awkward silence before she finally broke it. "I like you too..." Charles didn't expect it. "Really?" "Yes." He didn't find words, so he dragged her from her chair and kissed her softly, their hands intertwined.

There was them, lost in the feeling of each other's lips, the feeling of pure love. Then there was cheering. The team was squeezed in the little room, now having another reason to celebrate for. This day was a double win for Charles. He got the trophy and the girl. He remembers it as his best night for many reasons 😉

Taglist: @changetyre @margaritad1 @dilemmaontwolegs @norizz-nation