#I’m hoping to make this a mini series lol
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wehaveimagineshere · 1 year ago
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Ghost w/ civilian!reader
Reader is afab tho it’s not mentioned here. And also I’m going to try out adding a little bit of dialogue and see how I feel about it for future fics :)
Part of the Little Bunny series
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You worked at the grocery store Ghost occasionally shopped at when he realized that his fridge and cabinets were empty after being gone for months at a time.
It was a Monday morning and the store wasn’t busy. He quickly grabbed the items he needed, all the while getting some stares from other shoppers. He was wearing his normal skull balaclava, but without the hard mask. Dressed in all black with his hood up. The only skin showing was his hands.
He looks scary. He knew it, he preferred it. He was tired, it was too early and he could feel his bed calling his name. But he knew he needed to fill up his fridge now so that he doesn’t have to leave his house anytime soon.
You were the only register open. Talking to the elderly lady in front of him while scanning her items. Your face bright and cheerful.
Ghost had immediately caught your eye as soon as he walked in. It was hard for him not to. He was big. Clothes baggy but not enough to hide the sheer mass of his muscles underneath. You were intrigued.
You snuck a couple glances his way while finishing up with the elderly lady. Bidding her a nice day with a smile as Ghost walked up.
“Good morning,” you say to him with a smile. He mumbles a reply back to you as you start scanning his items.
You take notice that all of his food items are for quick meals. Tv dinners, a jug of juice, and a case of beers. It makes you wonder if he lives alone. And if he eats like this, how is his body so muscular?
You try to make some small talk. Asking him how his morning has been so far. Occasionally glancing up at him, only to find him staring back at you.
“ ‘S fine,” his voice gruff. Tired. If you’re intimidated by him, you don’t show it. He’s a little surprised. You remind him of a little bunny. Small, significantly smaller than him. Bright eyed and energetic. Too energetic for a Monday morning, he thinks.
You’re done bagging up his items, and as he places them into his cart you catch a glimpse of his tattoos. His hands look strong. You wonder what it would feel like to hold them. Would they be rough? Or would there be a softness to them?.
You feel a slight blush creeping up your neck and quickly turn to grab his receipt.
You look him in the eyes and smile as you hand him his receipt. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”
He takes the receipt from you and he turns to walk away. Stopping for a second, before turning his head towards you. “Thanks. You too.”
As he leaves he thinks about you, a small smile appearing under his mask. You really do remind him of a little bunny. He walks out the door and thinks that maybe, maybe he’ll come back tomorrow.
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kkst0904 · 2 years ago
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muniimyg · 1 month ago
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (24) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*
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series m.list // taglist request closed
note: hihi ,, sorry this update took so long (>'-'<) hope u like it <3 personally think it could've been freakier but also planning on another extra of pregnant oc n bbydaddy jk fucking LOL so i wouldn't worry abt it... ch is lengthy fyi … also,, bby2’s name reveal 😝
warnings: pregnancy mood swings, hot tub sex (oc is in her 2nd trimester) pregnant oc, jealousy, dirty talk, breast play, some slapping, kissing, and fucking
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo
//
so much happened before the wedding. 
for instance, you two pulled zion out of daycare and enrolled him in preschool. with all your leave time from work, this allowed you to spend more precious moments with him and while still having time for yourself. another thing is that you and jungkook finally pushed through packing up and moving homes. truth be told, you two bought the penthouse a few years ago but paused on the mini renovations due to your busy work schedules and personal circumstances. on top of that, when jungkook came back from new york he talked about leaving the company to start something of his own. 
if that doesn’t feel like a lot… you two got married. 
married. 
in the midst of the aftermath of your wedding and moving process; you and jungkook are expecting another. and wow, does it feel like you two can’t catch your breath. the timing of everything has truly never felt more chaotic yet so right. 
you and jungkook deserve every bit of this new chapter.
this new life. 
so, with everything in motion, you two decided to take a take a moment and slow things down.
to catch your breath, step away, and spend some intentional time together before the next wave of change rolls in. a cabin trip, tucked away from the noise, just the two of them and the growing baby you carry, is the perfect escape.
when the car slows to stop, you take a moment to admire the soft snow that coats the cabin’s rooftop and blankets the surrounding pine trees. jungkook turns off the engine and gazes out the window. as he marvels at the sight, he turns to you and thinks; 
there’s no comparison. 
you catch his gaze and scoff at him. 
“don’t look at me like that,” you warn. “we haven’t even made it inside the cabin. i’m 5 months pregnant, jungkook. i can’t fuck in this audi like—”
“you’re so beautiful,” he leans over and kisses your forehead. “that’s all.”
you tighten your lips and nod. 
he’s been awfully good at making your heart flutter these days… could be the pregnancy hormones. could be the fact that you married the right man. somewhere in between, you can’t even find it in yourself to question it or think any deeper. you’re just thankful. you’re so grateful for him. 
jungkook steps out first.
he inhales deeply and stretches. taking in the stillness of the mountains, the snow beneath him crunches under his boots. he hurries around to open the car door for you. offering his hand, you smile and take it. your gloved finger curls around his as you carefully step out of the car, one hand instinctively resting on your round belly. 
"oh.. wow. honey, this is beautiful,” you murmur in awe. 
jungkook tugs you close and kisses the top of your head. "it's aight. i think you're—"
"oh, my love..." you look down at your belly and pout. "your daddy is so annoying. he's such a yapper. i hope you take after me and know when to shut up."
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the first day passes faster than you expect.
after settling into the cozy cabin, you and jungkook decide to explore the small downtown area. it’s a charming place, with snow-dusted streets and twinkling lights in every shop window. you wander hand in hand, stopping to sample street food—warm, savory bites that fill the crisp air with delicious smells. then there’s dessert, sweet enough to leave you both way too full but completely satisfied. by the time you finish, the sun is setting, and you head back to the cabin before 6pm, ready to settle in for a cozy evening.
the two of you curl up on the couch, binge-watching bad romcoms. between the predictable plots and over-the-top drama, you’re both laughing harder than you have in weeks. every ridiculous twist has you snorting, and you spend half the time arguing over the characters’ choices, tossing playful jabs at each other’s taste in movies. you haven’t felt this light, this refreshed in each other's company, in what feels like forever.
it’s a stark contrast to the year before, which was filled with more ups and downs than anyone should have to endure in a lifetime. even now, it’s still hard to look back at those difficult times without a weight settling in your chest. but it’s moments like this—when you’re playing a board game with jungkook, battling over a meaningless win—that make your heart soar.
jungkook, of course, refuses to let you win, which might be the funniest thing he’s done in a while. he’s always been competitive, but when it comes to you, he usually doesn’t mind losing, letting you take the victory just to see you smile.
but tonight?
tonight’s different.
you’re both teasing each other mercilessly, throwing out fake strategies and dramatic groans every time someone gains an advantage.
“you’re really gonna make me earn this, huh?” you laugh, shaking your head as he shoots you a smirk.
“you better believe it,” he replies, eyes gleaming with playful determination.
"does the fact that i'm carrying your baby—"
"no, no, no—d-don't pull the milf card," he panics. "don't be a cheater like that."
"what's it to you? if i'm a milf, you're a dilf."
the back-and-forth banter fills the cabin with warmth, the kind of joy that’s rare and precious.
every time he tries to outwit you, you only love him more for it. this is the jungkook you fell in love with—the one who knows how to make even the simplest moments feel special.
as you look at him mid-game, you think to yourself; you win no matter what.
this is the love you fought for, and right here, in this cozy cabin, surrounded by snow and laughter, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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when the next morning comes, you and jungkook wake up slow together.
over the past 5 months, you’ve been so nauseous, your feet have been swelling (you cried the other day because your old snow boots wouldn’t fit), and your body just... feels less like your own every day.
between the sleepless nights and aching back, you’ve been longing for a break, something to help you feel even just a little bit more like yourself again.
he’s constantly touching your belly and making sure you aren’t bending your knees or lifting a finger. you’ve always known him to be an acts-of-service type of guy, but he surely is a different man when you’re pregnant.
he’s so fucking clingy...
but you are too.
jungkook knows how much you’ve been struggling; he sees it in the way you wince when you stand up too fast, or how you press your hand to your lower back after a long day. when he suggested a babymoon—an escape to a peaceful spa retreat—you didn’t hesitate to agree.
he planned everything perfectly, even down to booking a specialist renowned for her prenatal massages. you both have been counting down the days, excited for the chance to unwind together.
before heading to the spa, you and jungkook decide to grab some coffee.
today, the weather is cool with a crispness in the air that feels refreshing after yesterday’s warmth.
jungkook parks the car at a nearby café on the corner of the street and helps you out. the small bell above the door jingles as you walk in. the vibe inside is laid-back and peaceful—wooden tables, soft lighting, and a chalkboard menu that gives it a homely feel, but the low hum of conversation fills the space with a quiet buzz of life.
you both are a little more sensitive this time around, but who could blame you? between the pregnancy hormones and the life changes, things have been tough. but it’s okay. things are better now.
life has never felt more full.
jungkook squeezes your hand before heading up to the counter to order, while you take a seat by the window, a few tables away from the barista station. from your spot, you can watch him as he approaches the counter, where a young woman with bright eyes and an easy smile greets him.
"good morning! what can i get for you today?" she asks, her voice chipper and smooth, a little too warm for your liking.
maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but… truly, there’s something in her voice you dislike.
she leans slightly against the counter, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, her attention fully fixed on jungkook. you tilt your head and sit back in your chair a little more. this is interesting.
jungkook offers his usual friendly smile. "one iced americano, and one matcha oat milk latte, please."
the barista starts punching in the order, her eyes flicking up to meet his. "iced, even in this weather? bold choice. i like that."
jungkook laughs softly, the sound filling the quiet space and making you smile unconsciously as you fiddle with the napkin in front of you. you can hear snippets of their conversation from where you sit. the barista's tone shifts just slightly—casual but laced with subtle flirtation.
"so, aside from iced coffee at 8am, do you ever drink coffee at 4pm?" she asks, her eyes lingering on him a bit longer than necessary. "my shift ends at 4pm. how do you like your coffee then?"
you feel your shoulders tense, a little twist in your stomach forming as you watch. it’s harmless. you know it’s harmless, but something about the way she’s looking at him makes your heart squeeze uncomfortably.
jungkook, ever the oblivious sweetheart, glances toward you. his gaze softens when your eyes meet. without missing a beat, he grins and says, "with my wife."
the barista falters for a moment, caught off guard. her smile tightens, and she forces a laugh, quickly recovering.
"well, aren’t you… committed. that’s nice to see."
you catch the way jungkook's lips twitch, clearly proud of himself for the quick response. he gives you a little wink, and despite the initial rush of warmth from his words, the insecurity starts to creep in again. you glance away, pretending to be interested in the view outside the window, but you can’t shake the way your stomach churns. it’s a familiar wave of self-consciousness washing over you.
it’s stupid, you think to yourself.
but... why does this bother me?
even if he always says the right things... fuck.
your hand then drifts down to rest on your belly, the growing baby inside serving as a constant reminder of the changes you’ve been going through. the swelling, the mood swings, the way your clothes don’t fit the same anymore—it’s all there. it bubbles just under the surface. seeing someone so effortlessly pretty and carefree—someone who hasn’t been carrying another human for months—playfully flirting with your husband only magnifies that feeling.
jungkook pays, grabs the drinks, and walks over to you, placing one in front of you as he takes a seat.
"got your favorite," he says, flashing you that same smile that always melts your heart.
you force a smile back, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
"thanks, honey."
he narrows his eyes slightly, reading you like a book.
"everything okay?"
"yeah, i’m fine," you reply, taking a sip from your cup, hoping it hides the tiny lie. the weight of your feelings lingers, leaving a heaviness in the air that jungkook can sense, even if he doesn’t fully understand.
for now, he lets it slide, though you know him well enough to recognize that he’s not going to leave it alone for long.
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the spa day is as luxurious and blissful as you imagined it to be. 
you tried your best not to let your waves of jealousy and insecurity get in the way of experiencing this with jungkook… but it’s a lot easier said than done. 
you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious the entire time. you couldn’t help but notice the longing gazes the staff had as jungkook walked by your side… it made you feel sick to your stomach. 
… like, yes! he’s handsome. 
but he’s also mine? so close your eyes. 
aside from that, you and jungkook had a great time with the massages and truly felt relaxed. it was so nice to spend time with him like this… which is why a part of you immediately feels guilty when he helps you get dressed at the end of the session. 
“honey, you okay?” jungkook says, as he helps zip up your jacket. 
you look at him, trying to blink the thin layer of your teary eyes. “y-yeah.”
he blinks at you. 
“is your body feeling okay? was the massage too much—w-what’s going on? why are you about to cry?”
“no,” you step closer, your arms slowly sliding around his neck and draw him in. your fingers lace gently at the nape of his neck, brushing against the soft strands of his hair. “it was perfect. thank you so much for bringing me here, honey. i love you.” 
“i love you too.”
instinctively, jungkook leans into you, your forehead almost touching. his gaze softens, and there's a tenderness in the way you hold him. he loves this. it’s like you’re grounding yourself in his presence. even though he knows you’re withholding some truth, he’ll take this for now. 
“you sure?” he attempts once more. 
“mhm,” you nod, making an effort to lighten your tone. “let’s get some dinner, yeah?”
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dinner was lovely. 
it was the kind that left your heart and stomach feeling equally full. jungkook had made you laugh so much, telling stories and cracking little jokes that slowly but surely melted away the weird mood from earlier. you’d almost forgotten about the lingering unease as his laughter filled the cozy cabin, a warmth settling between the two of you. 
now, as you both lounged comfortably in the soft glow of the fire, jungkook’s playful grin returned.
“you know,” he said, nudging your knee, “we’ve got that hot tub just waiting for us.” his eyes sparkled mischievously. "let's take advantage of it."
you tighten your lips.
"come on," jungkook grins, tugging gently at your hand. "the hot tub’s waiting for us. you know you want to."
you hesitate, glancing out toward the balcony where steam rises into the cool evening air. the idea of sinking into the hot water sounds tempting, but the lingering weight of your jealousy from earlier makes you feel uneasy. you haven't said anything about it yet, but it sits at the back of your mind. 
jungkook’s eyes search yours, his expression softening as he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. 
“you deserve to relax, honey. this whole weekend is for you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "let's enjoy it."
you want to tell him. 
you want to explain the knot in your chest, the little twist of insecurity that made you feel silly. but instead, you just smile—small and tight—because he's right. this trip is supposed to be about unwinding, about feeling good again, and you can’t bring yourself to ruin the mood.
“okay,” you say, your voice quieter than usual. “let’s do it.”
jungkook’s face lights up instantly, a boyish grin spreading across his lips. 
“love you, mama.” he pulls you in for a quick kiss, his excitement infectious as he heads toward the balcony to get the tub ready.
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the outdoor hot tub and sauna sit on the edge of the property, steam rising into the chilly air. as you stand at the edge of the hot tub, you strip down your robe. jungkook, who has been sitting in the hot tub mentally preparing himself for you—is more than delighted to watch you lower yourself into the bubbling water. 
jungkook looks up from the water with soft, adoring eyes. his expression is completely relaxed yet focused, entirely captivated by you. the steam rises around him, but it’s the warmth in his gaze that stands out the most. a kind of quiet affection that radiates with every glance. his lips are slightly parted, and though he says nothing, the way his gaze clings to you speaks volumes. he's utterly consumed by you. every detail of your presence pulling him deeper into that gentle obsession. (gentle… yeah right). his tattooed arm rests casually on the edge of the hot tub, but even with his laid-back posture, there's an intensity in the way he watches you. 
truly, you're the only thing in the world that matters to him. 
offering him a small smile, you finally sink into the water and sit. jungkook moves from his spot to in front of you. he opens his arms and you let out a giggle as he wraps himself around you. you can’t help but giggle… you aren’t blind. 
jungkook comes to you—wet, tatted, and toned. 
as his arms envelop you, the warmth of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine. you can’t help but admire the way the water glistens on his skin and how hot and bothered his tattoo sleeve is making you. for a second, jungkook pulls away to smirk at you… when he does so, it ignites a flutter in your stomach. you find yourself lost in the depths of his eyes. 
you’re convinced that the glint in them can heal your soul. 
in this intimate space, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in your own little bubble. you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he pulls you closer, a reminder of the love you share, a bond that only grows stronger in moments like this. the steam swirls around you, but it’s the connection between your souls that truly warms your heart, making you more and more aware that this is where you belong—right in the center of his gaze.
"this was a good idea," you breathe. “i needed this."
jungkook kisses the top of your head before he moves and slips in beside you. his arm naturally rests around your shoulders. 
“anything for you, mama,” he whispers, breath visible in the cool air. he tilts his head, sneaking a kiss on your cheek. you smile as he does so, feeling like you could melt. “i’m so happy you’re happy.”
you laugh softly, resting your head on his shoulder. "you make me happy.”
jungkook’s face lights up. 
it’s moments like these where he feels his heart is lifted. there’s nothing better than hearing you say shit like that. it’s so simple but it wholeheartedly gives him the will to live.
jungkook’s hand drifts to your belly. 
“i miss zion.” 
you laugh. “even though he’s your number 1 hater?” 
jungkook scoffs at you. though what you said is true, he refuses to accept it. 
“he’s gonna have to learn to love us equally… or at least, need me a little more,” he sighs. “to be honest… i’m kind of worried about when you go into labour and the entire new shift in our family. don’t get me wrong—i think zion is a great kid. as unbias as i can be, he truly is kind. he’s curious and understanding at the same time. he’s funny and sociable… but i’m concerned that if he isn’t into me right now and he’s been awfully clingy with you… w-well, i’m not sure how we’re gonna navigate through that. our baby is going to need you and i want to protect your peace of mind and recovery… but i also want to be an accessible father to zion and leave enough time and things for myself. i d-don’t know if i’m making any sense but—”
you nod, listening to him. everything he mentioned makes sense to you. you feel the same way and have also worried about how zion will be as a brother. he’s completely capable of it and he has shown excitement regarding your pregnancy—but it’s different when it happens.
“i feel the same way,” you admit, taking your hand and resting it on his cheek. “everything is so new and there’s so much more than just welcoming a new baby… all your feelings are okay and i appreciate you being able and willing to talk about them even when they don’t make sense to you. see, when you do and say things like this—it eases me. we’re not going to get everything right. we’re going to mess up and there will be times where our priorities rearrange and the adjustment sucks… but we’ve been through worse and made it through. this is our life together, honey. we’re going to make it work. we’re going to be okay.” 
jungkook takes your words in. 
they give him a rush of comfort and feels instantly better. there’s no other way of describing the kind of relief you give him.
he believes in you so much. 
you reach over and kiss him. he kisses you back, happily and deeply. when you pull away he lets out a sigh of relief.
“in other news… yoongi and his new girlfriend? don’t they remind you of us?” jungkook begins. “like when we were dating and how dramatic we were about always being together? she lives two cities away and he’s constantly driving back and forth.”
you laugh, recalling all the lovestruck texts yoongi sent you. not too long ago, he asked for anniversary date ideas and it made you feel funny. with his past girlfriends, he never bothered to ask for help or even get his friends involved. he was usually quiet about them… but with this new one, he’s on blast. 
you and jungkook met yoongi’s girlfriend a few months ago. just before the wedding actually. she was really warm and brought a brighter part of yoongi out. you’ve never seen that side of him. he would glow while she smiled. it was decided then and there that she would be invited to your wedding.
“yoongi is falling in love again," you say with a laugh. "maybe a little fast but it’s also really nice to see him passionate about someone… and he’s grown.”
jungkook chuckles, nodding. "yeah, he’s head over heels this time."
you pause, then casually add, “she’s really pretty and kind… so i understand why he’s lovestruck.”
the silence that follows is enough for jungkook to realize there’s more on your mind. you glance over at him before finally asking, “she’s pretty right?”
“i’m married.”
“you’re allowed to think other women are pretty… l-like the barista from this morning. she was pretty, right?” you repeat. 
jungkook’s eyes slightly widen. his body stiffens, not expecting the shift. 
“i think you think she’s pretty.”
you bite your inner cheek. “because she was pretty—”
“no.”
“it’s okay,” you attempt to sound cool. “you can admit it. i won’t be mad—”
“i think my wife is pretty. the prettiest.”
“she was pretty—”
he shrugs, eyes beginning to panic. “honey, i couldn’t tell ya—“
“jungkook,” you groan. “be serious—“
“i am,” jungkook lets out a harsh scoff. “are you?”
you feel a little sick. 
not because of the pregnancy but because you know you’ve provoked him. suddenly, his gaze lowers and the unbothered expression he had on a second ago is long gone. 
“___, my love—my wife… you know you’re carrying my child, right? not only have you carried my first, second, and now third—holy shit. i don’t mean to sound so angry right now, but if what you’re insinuating is that i haven’t fucked you deep enough to feel the love i have for you then—fuck. we have an issue here. i am angry.”
you heart stops the moment he mentions your second pregnancy. “no. that’s not what i—“
“tell me now,” jungkook demands. “have i not kissed every inch of your body enough for you to understand how in love i am with it? with you? have i or have i not, huh? or should i fuck you right now so i can prove shit? fuck, ___. am i not a grown-ass man that falls at the feet of his wife—no. don’t look away. i want you to fucking look at me when i’m talking to you.” 
you tighten your lips and look up at him. for a moment, you look down and away. he caught your look and pulled you back into reality. his reality. 
the atmosphere shifts. 
“are you okay?” he asks for the nth time today. “are we okay?”
jungkook chases for your eyes. you look at him and feel overwhelmed. you can’t help it. before you know it, tears stream down your face. 
“i d-don’t know,” your voice shakes. “i don’t mean to pick a fight. i don’t know why i’m so insecure right now—i just… i didn't mean to be so sulky the entire day. please, jungkook... i love you and appreciate everything you've done for this babymoon... and i know that the barista flirting with you this morning was nothing. i know it was nothing. girls have hit on you way more than that but i think because i’m pregnant and she was so pretty—”
you let out a sob. “i know you love me and there are more important things in our life than to be crying over stupid shit like this… but i can’t help it. w-why do you have to be so handsome?” 
you hit his bare chest and he moves back, pretending like it hurt. pouting, you cross your arms at him.
“a-and you can’t blame me. you always flirt with me and get me all hot and bothered but haven’t actually fucked me in 2 months. 2 months, jungkook! what the fuck! this is literally your fault. i look and act like this because of your fucking cum—”
“oh my god,” he hisses. “honey, do you know how hard it’s been for me to not rip your clothes off? do you have any idea how i feel when i touch you and all you do is glow? as much as this makes me sound like a pathetic loser—i’m scared to. if i fuck you while you’re pregnant, i’m literally going to cumbust. i’m going to fall in love with you even more. i don’t know if i can handle that—can you? god, do you know how much this all means to me? you think it’s just me being inside you again—which, fuck, i miss that too—but to me it’s so much more. i can’t even find the words to say how utterly sick my mind gets when i think about us fucking with you pregnant like this.” 
you stare at him blankly.
“you’re pregnant—your body is changing,” he pauses. “... and i’m so grateful for you. for this divine body. you can be insecure all you want and i will do anything and everything to prove them wrong—but the truth is… i’m selfish right now. ___, i love how needy you are. i love how your boobs overflow in my hands. i love the bump. i love how flush your cheeks are. i love that you can’t bend and i get to do more things for you. i love that you want me more. so fuck. sorry if i don’t give a shit if a young barista hits on me or if yoongi has a girlfriend—i’m captivated by you. i only know you and your beauty. i only want you.”
jungkook has always loved you.
over and over again, he has shown, fought, and waited for you with his love like no other. to be frank, it feels like every day there is a new reason for him to love you. 
when you became pregnant with zion, he didn’t know how to function. he was genuinely mindblown and breathless from how much he loved you. then, as you two went through your second pregnancy and continue to heal together from the circumstances, he thinks; this must be it. 
because there is no way he could love you any more than this. 
… but he does. 
there’s something about seeing you pregnant that makes him fall even harder. seeing you in this light—happier and safe… it strikes him differently. the feeling plunges right into his heart and fills it with more admiration and appreciation for you. 
you see, it’s in the little things. 
how you absentmindedly rub your belly when you talk about the baby, or the way your eyes soften when you feel a kick. he’s in awe of how strong you are, how you’ve adapted to every change with grace, even when it’s tough.
watching you carry his child, seeing the way your love has grown to make room for this new life, has only deepened his devotion. to him, you’ve never looked more beautiful, more radiant—more divine.
the steam swirls around you and jungkook. 
instead of saying more, he leans closer. his eyes lock with yours and you gulp. he brushes a damp strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering against your skin. 
it feels like he’s taking forever to kiss you. 
he looks at you needy and desperate. leaning in, he tilts his head and closes in on you. time stops when his lips met yours. he kisses you with such demand.
opening your mouth ever so slightly, you allow him in. he deepens the kiss, melting away any lingering tension. he pulls you closer, his abs touching your bump. jungkook moans into the kiss and you smile. then, he slides his hands around your waist and his fingers play with the hem of your bikini bottom. you let out a gasp when he pinches your ass. he pulls away from the kiss and laughs, before placing a kiss on your shoulder. 
then, he lifts his face and kisses you again. pulling away once again, you giggle as his fingers tug down your bottoms. 
“need you.”
you scrunch your nose at him.
it’s so strange to you because pregnancy isn’t that glamorous. you aren’t blind and jungkook doesn’t exactly do much to wipe the drool that dribbles down his mouth when he sees you paddle like a penguin… but seriously? the hot tub?
“in the hot tub?”
“in the hot tub?” he mocks you. 
you squirm as he successfully takes your bottoms off. he smirks as he tosses them to the side. jungkook then squats and lifts you to switch positions. as he sits, he settles you on top of him. he bites his bottom lip as he concentrates on taking his shorts off. 
"come on," he whines. "it's sexy."
“im pregnant,” you remind him. “i don’t know if i can—”
“you can,” jungkook assures you. “you will.” 
just like that, you fold.
you trust him. 
when he takes his shorts off, he helps you get more comfortable. as you sink into his cock, you plant both of your hands on his shoulders. you wince as you hump and grind on him. 
he feels so big. 
jungkook playfully pouts. “what’s wrong, mama? you were crying about not having me inside you—now that i am, what? what is it? too big?”
you nod as you come down. 
“should’ve prepped.” 
jungkook’s pout turns into a mischievous smile.
“why? this is for me. i like that you’re so sensitive. don’t you? you feel it, right? you’re so tight, mama. can feel you clenching. your fucking pussy has grip… and look at you. fucking yourself onto me like a good girl cos you love this fat cock so much. you love this.”
you nod, feeling his length in your guts. “yes, daddy. love this cock so much. thank you for my baby.”
he inhales sharply before wrapping his arms around you. jungkook rips off your bikini top and stuffs his face into your breasts. he kisses them, taking his time to lick and suck your nipples. when he pulls away, he brings his hands to them. 
he squeezes them tightly and watches the way your flesh spills in between his fingers. your breasts got so fucking big—he loves them. 
“god bless these breasts,” he hums. “you like that, mama? you like it when i play with your tits like this?” 
slap.
“say thank you to me,” he insists. “with my fucking cum, your tits wouldn’t be this delicious.”
you ride him slower. 
“thank you, daddy.”
slap. 
“again. say it like you mean it.” 
you moan as he smacks them once more. 
“thank you, daddy—oh,” you pant as he twists your nipple. he looks at you, mouth slightly opened and eyes darted at you. “t-thank you for my tits. thank you for cumming inside me and always stuffing me full. you’re so big and i’m so thankful. thank you, thank you, thank you—mmfphh—”
jungkook pulls your hair, tilting you back.
he shoves his face back to your tits before licking his way up to your neck. you feel him throb inside you and suddenly think that the jets and led lights in this hot tub add to the tension. it feels so good. 
pleasure is an understatement.
the way jungkook fits inside you is incredible.
it’s near indescribable actually. you must have saved an entire nation in your past life to deserve dick this good. you ride the high, feeling the tightness in your stomach knot more and more. then, finally, jungkook tells you to get off. 
as you do so, he lets go of your hair and takes you by the waist. he bends you over. you plant your hands on the edge of the hot tub as he hisses, smacks your ass, and shoves himself back inside your pussy. 
he fucks you, making sure to have a handful of your boobs as he does so.
it’s what he deserves.
jungkook bites your shoulders as you moan. cheek to cheek, you both begin to pant. he digs himself deeper and deeper, you swear the curves of his dick have engraved themselves into your pussy. 
“f-fuck yeah, mama—t-that’s it,” jungkook murmurs into your ear. “my dirty fucking slut. so needy and bratty when you’re pregnant. you’re my fucking princess.”
“n-not a princess—”
“you are though,” he breathes our sharply. “my babymama… god, i love you. i love this fucking cunt so much. i’m sorry i haven’t been fucking it. practically fucking self sabatoge… didn’t wanna obsess over you even more—f-fuck. you feel so good. i was a fool. i’m sorry, mama. i’m s-so fucking—nghh—”
jungkook slams himself into you harder and harder. the water splashes and the sounds of the hot tub jets are put into second place. you whimper and moan, matching his pace. he feels like he’ll lose his mind soon. 
you sound so pretty.
you are so pretty.
right then and there, jungkook reaches for your clit. he rubs on it, elevating your pleasure. 
"my pretty mama."
"oh my god—"
jungkook lets out a big exhale. “mhmm. feel good, mama? you like the way i touch you? so fucking pretty. the prettiest. f-fuck, ___... daddy’s got you.” 
he lets you enjoy for a few more seconds before bringing his wet hands to cup your cheeks. he tilts your face up and squishes your lips together. he kisses you before moving back to your neck. there, he nibbles on your skin to leave marks. 
“i love you,” he pants. “i love you, mama.”
“i love you too, daddy.”
what bliss. 
jungkook cums first and feeling the way his cum shoots inside you finishes you off. you cum seconds after and reach for kisses. jungkook lowers his face and kisses you. against your lips, he murmurs;
“10 minute break. can we have sex inside for round 2?”
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the babymoon turned out to be everything you needed and more after you and jungkook talked (fucked) through your feelings. truth is, all you can really recall is cumming so much you were afraid your water was going to break. for the past 2 months where you two didn’t fuck—he’s made up for it.
once the air was cleared, any lingering tension melted away, and the rest of the trip was filled with small, intimate moments that made you both fall deeper into this new chapter of your lives. there was that one morning when jungkook woke up early, made breakfast, and brought it to bed with the most endearing, sheepish grin. 
“thought we could start the day off cozy,” he said, climbing back into bed beside you. his warmth immediately soothing. you spent that morning feeding each other bites of fruit between soft kisses, the world outside feeling distant and irrelevant.
every night, you two facetimed zion. watching his bright little face light up the screen as he excitedly told you about his adventures with his grandparents. 
“look, daddy, i made a painting for mommy!” he shouted, showing off a messy splash of colors that had you both smiling. 
of course it was a painting for mommy. 
jungkook asked for his and zion said; “i don’t know. maybe baby will make you one.”
during those quiet nights—heads close together, watching zion through the phone or lying side by side, soaking in the peacefulness—you realized just how "married" you felt. this trip wasn’t just a getaway; it was a reminder of the life you were building together, the love that had deepened through every challenge.
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as the sun began to set on the last day of your babymoon, the golden light streaming through the windows bathed the cabin in a warm glow. you and jungkook had spent the afternoon doing nothing in particular—just enjoying each other’s company. lounging in comfortable silence, sharing lazy conversations, and occasionally stealing soft kisses.
“hard to believe it’s almost over,” jungkook murmurs, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back as you rested against him. you hummed in agreement, feeling completely at ease as if all the worries and stresses from before had melted away during your stay.
“i could stay here forever,” you replied with a soft smile, half-joking but meaning it more than you’d care to admit. “but i miss zion and the mom guilt is hitting so hard right now.”
jungkook chuckled and kissed the top of your head.
“do you think he misses me?”
you laugh and then cover your mouth. “did you get funnier or something?”
“haha,” jungkook rolls his eyes. “i really fucking hope this baby likes me more.”
you laugh again, sinking further into him. you rest your hand over your belly. your eyes widen when you feel a kick, you grab jungkook’s hand and place it on top of the spot. 
“i think baby will.” you say softly. "hey, we can talk about baby names on our way home! i’m excited.” 
and just like that, the babymoon comes to a quiet, contented end. nothing dramatic or grand—just the two of you, basking in the love and peace that had surrounded you for the past 10 days. 
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as jungkook drives, the soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the car windows. jungkook hums to a the music playing. the gentle melody soon turns into him singing softly, his voice filling the car with a soothing warmth.
your hand rested on your belly, and almost as if on cue, you felt a tiny kick. the baby reacts to his singing, little movements following the rhythm. you laugh quietly, placing your other hand over his. "someone’s already a fan of your voice," you said, glancing at him.
he grins, continuing to sing as he squeezes your hand. "oh? i guess i’m the favourite. in your face, mama," he jokes. “finally…” but there’s a hint of emotion in his eyes. as though the simple act of singing to your baby makes everything feel even more real.
you laugh and gaze out the window. 
"yeah. baby likes your voice," you reply, giving his hand a squeeze. 
“you okay?” jungkook asks. “what’s with that look? what’s on your mind, honey?”
"i was just thinking... about names."
jungkook raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "oh? got any ideas?"
you hesitate for a moment, then the name just slips out. 
"zia,” you reveal. “what do you think of zia? i saw it a few times online and in the baby name book… i called her zia once last week and she kicked. the name itself connects to light, family, and brilliance… radiance."
he repeated it under his breath, testing it out. 
"baby zia… i like it." jungkook smiles warmly, taking your hand and kissing it.
you smile back, feeling a sudden surge of love for both jungkook and the tiny life you were bringing into the world.
the name feels right, like it had been waiting for you all along. you can’t wait to get home and share the news with everyone. you can’t wait to go home together, hug and kiss zion, and fall asleep next to your husband.
everything has fallen into place and life is truly so beautiful.
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monzabee · 27 days ago
Text
diet pepsi - ln4 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where you and Lando have a rather interesting way of resolving an argument. 
Pairing: lando norris x fwb!reader 
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: kinda cute ass fighting so fluff??, sex in a car, fingering, penetration, manhandling, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it!!), cursing, minords dni!! 
Request: “okay but what about good old car sex with lando pleaseeee” 
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, who knew addison rae had the power to make a song that made me write this whole thing under 3 hours?? i certainly did not. secondly, i thought it would be nice to take a little break from the charles-carlos drama, and before i finish the third and final part to that little mini-series, i thought you guys would enjoy a little treat in the meantime! i have to admit writing for lando again was an interesting experience for me, but who knows, maybe i'll do it more often (i have one request that i'm obsessed with so that’s definitely coming your way as well!) also, i have an oscar fic in the works as well, so maybe the sudden change in mclaren also started to affect me lol. a quick psa, i know many people asked me in my last fic, but i do NOT have a taglist and i won’t be making one any time soon either! anywaaays, i hope you guys enjoy this fic, and feedback is welcome as always! thank you to the anon for their request, and good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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“I can’t believe you’re drinking that in my car.” Lando complains, shooting you a sideway glare as you sip your choice of beverage contently.  
You tilt the cup slightly in his direction, grinning. “Relax, it’s not like it’s going to explode, nor it is your car.” 
“It might as well,” Lando mutters, eyes back on the road. “Knowing your luck, the second I hit a bump, that thing will be all over the place and I’ll have to explain what happened to Zak. Do you even know how much it costs to clean these seats?” 
You laugh, swirling the drink in the cup. “You’re being dramatic, it’s not like you are the one to detail the cars you use. It’s fine, I’ve got this under control.” 
“Famous last words,” Lando grumbles. His grip tightens on the steering wheel as if he’s preparing for impact. 
You glance at him, amused. “Are you always this paranoid about your car, or is it just me?” 
“It’s you. Definitely you.” He shoots you another look, this one laced with mock suspicion. “You have a history, you know.” 
“Oh, puh-lease,” you drawl, rolling your eyes as you turn your upper body to face him. “Tell me one time I actually made a mess in your car, and I’ll throw away this can right now.” 
Lando doesn't hesitate as he answers quickly. “Monaco. Last year. You remember that smoothie incident, right?” 
You blink a couple of times, taken aback. “That doesn’t count! That was your fault for speeding around the corner like a maniac. How was I supposed to hold on to it?” 
He smirks, clearly enjoying the memory. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh? You were the one who insisted on bringing a smoothie into my car five minutes before a race.” 
“You didn’t even have to brake so hard,” you mutter, crossing your arms defensively. “I had it under control until you decided to turn it into a F1 race.” 
Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter. I still won, throw it away now.” 
“That doesn’t count, it was clearly your fault!” You complain, holding the can protectively. “There’s no way I’m tossing this because of your bad driving.” 
Lando laughs, shaking his head. “Bad driving? I think I’d take that up with the people who hired me to race professionally.” 
“Professionally doesn’t mean you’re not reckless,” you quip, a playful glint in your eyes. “Especially when there’s a smoothie involved.”  
“Fine,” he contends, shrugging, “how about that time I made you come too hard, and you leaked onto the seats?”  
This manages to shut you down for a moment, with eyes nearly bulging out of your head, you gasp at Lando’s sudden choice of words. “Lando!” You exclaim, reaching over the console to hit him on the arm gently, “That’s vulgar!” 
Silently chuckling at your reaction, he reaches over as he places a hand on your upper thigh, his hand tightening as you hold his wrist in warning. “It’s the truth,” he reminds you with a smirk, “don’t go shy on me, now, you were the one to get the seats all messed up because of how wet you were.” If you weren’t blushing before, your face most definitely resembles a tomato now as he continues his stream of consciousness, “Not that I’m complaining, though, I’m pretty sure I came in my pants when I made you cum just from my fingers.”  
 “You– you did?” The question flies from your mouth before you can stop yourself.  
The smile that overtakes the smirk on Lando’s face is almost sweet, and he coos at the innocence of your question as he squeezes your thigh again. “Oh baby,” he coos, “it was the hottest thing ever.”  
Your thighs attempt to trap his hand as you inadvertently press them tighter together, your nose scrunching up in confusion. “But it was messy.”  
“That was the best part,” Lando confirms, his thumb caressing your skin. “I loved getting to clean you up afterwards, didn’t I? Almost as much as you loved it.” 
“Sure.” You mumble, shrugging as you do your best to ignore his burning stare. You’d be worried about the fact that he was supposed to be driving if it was someone else, but considering he’s a F1 driver, you don’t comment on Lando’s lack of his surroundings as he pushes your thighs apart. “What are you doing?” You ask, confused as he moves his fingers further up your skirt.  
“You just focus on finishing that drink, okay?” He mumbles as his fingers pull your underwear to the side. “I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet myself.”  
“Lando, I don’t think we should do th–hat.” Your voice waivers towards the end as his fingertips press on your clit, drawing lax circles on the bundle of nerves. “Lando,” you try to warn him, but your voice comes out as a high-pitched whimper.  
He shushes you gently as his fingers spread your wetness around your skin, causing you to bite down on your lip to silence yourself. Lando lets his dissent known by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling, “Don’t silence yourself, let me hear you, baby.” And when you give him what he wants and let out a loud moan as your hips involuntarily buck against his hand. Grinding the palm of his hand against your puffy clit, Lando uses your wetness to slowly push two of his fingers into you, drawing out another moan as you lean your head against the headrest. “My God, baby, look at you. You’re already making a mess on the seats.”  
“N-no,” you manage to whine, shaking your head as you give him a pleading but stubborn look, “I’m not making a mess.”  
“No?” He asks, mocking the pout that has found its way onto your lips. “Then who is so wet against my hand that it’s dripping, huh?” You're not sure if it’s his words or the way his fingers keep moving in and out of your cunt, but in either case, the overwhelming need of just something more causes you to attempt to put the can in your hand down, when Lando tuts again in warning, “You don’t get to put your drink down until you first come on my fingers.” 
After his words set in, you finally come to your senses, suddenly opening your eyes as you give him a shocked look. “Wha–what?” You ask, “What if I spill?” 
He shrugs, an innocent smile on his lips as he throws you a glance, “I guess you’ll just have to be careful and not spill it.” The smile on his lips grows as you let out a frustrated sound, and he responds by moving his fingers in a come-hither motion to git the spot, which causes your body to arch into his touch. “Are you going to give me what I want?” He asks, his concentration still on the road as he tries to find a secluded spot to park the car.  
“Uh-huh,” you mutter, voice shaky as you focus on not dropping the can in your hand, “I will, Lando, just keep doing that.”  
“Doing what?” He asks in a faux-innocent tone, as he goes back to simply continuing the pistoning movement of his fingers. “Like this?” He asks, with a shit eating grin on his face as you whine. “Or, like this?” He asks again, but this time, he repeats the movement of his fingers previously as he hits your g-spot again.  
You can’t control the scream that gets released from the back of your throat as your body shakes violently. “That,” you breathe out, your free hand holding onto the seatbelt so tight that you can feel it starting to cramp your hand a little bit, “don’t you dare stop doing that.” 
Lando lets out a low chuckle, clearly satisfied with your desperate plea. His fingers continue their relentless pace, teasing and coaxing you closer to the edge. “Oh, I won’t stop,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet commanding. “Not until you give me what I want.” 
Your entire body feels like it's on fire, the combination of his skilled fingers and the impossible task of not spilling your drink has you teetering on the edge. The car feels smaller, the world outside irrelevant, as Lando’s attention is focused solely on you. Being so consumed by the way Lando’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, you don’t even know that the car you are in at the moment has been abandoned in the side of a deserted road. You grip the can tighter, your hand trembling as the tension builds in your core. “Lando,” you gasp, a hint of desperation seeping into your voice. “I— I can't—” 
He smirks, enjoying your struggle. “You can,” he counters smoothly, leaning slightly closer while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “You can do it, just let it go, baby.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, drawing another loud moan from your lips. 
“Lando, please,” you beg, your voice almost cracking under the weight of your impending release. “I’m going to—” 
“Good,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening. “Let go for me, baby. And don't you dare spill that drink." 
His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 
His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 
You hear Lando’s satisfied chuckle as he eases his fingers out of you, giving your thigh one last affectionate squeeze. “Good girl,” he murmurs, glancing over at you with a proud smile. “Look at how good you look.” He shamelessly holds his fingers in front of your face, then without missing a beat, he brings his fingers into his mouth. The way he moans is nothing short of sinful, and you watch him with your lips parted as he mumbles around his fingers, “I think you spilled it a little bit.” 
“E-Excuse me?” You stutter, looking at Lando with the horrified look on your face. “No, I didn’t!” 
Lando raises an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering as he glances down at the mess on the seat. “Oh, but you did,” he teases, licking his lips after savoring the taste of you on his fingers. His eyes gleam with amusement as he points at the spot between your legs. “Not the drink, though… you.” 
Your face burns with a mix of embarrassment and desire, your breath still uneven as you try to process what just happened. “That’s not what I—” you stammer, crossing your arms over your chest, but Lando just laughs softly. 
“Relax, love. It’s nothing a little cleaning can’t fix.” He leans back in his seat, eyes never leaving you, his hand returning to the steering wheel like what just happened was the most normal thing in the world. “Besides, I’d much rather clean you up later.” 
You feel the heat spread through your body again, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel a wave of arousal wash over you. Lando’s confidence, the way he handles you with such ease, is almost intoxicating. But as much as you’re enjoying the moment, a small part of you knows this is ridiculous. 
“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, trying to regain some composure, though your flushed cheeks give you away. 
Lando just grins, completely unbothered. “You love it,” he says casually, shooting you another one of those playful sideway glances that makes your heart race. “Admit it. You like when I make you lose control.” 
You bite your lip, fighting the urge to throw a retort his way. But you can’t deny it, not after the way your body reacted to his touch. “You’re lucky you’re good at this,” you finally concede, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Lando’s smile softens, just for a moment. “Good at a lot of things,” he says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. Then he pulls the car to a stop, turning off the engine before leaning toward you, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “And I’m just getting started.” 
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whimsiwitchy · 3 months ago
Text
Controversially Young Girlfriend (part five)
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Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 
series masterlist & main masterlist
summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 
warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes.
warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3
authors note: the wait is over. yay! This isn’t how I expected this part to end but I let my mind take charge…plans change. I hope the end is okay, i’ve never written anything like that before so i’m a little nervy for y’alls reactions lol. let me know what you guys think! Enjoy <3
part five: new york changes you
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The whole ‘friends for now’ deal you set with Hugh has been an enthralling experience so far. A month has passed since that night in your living room, a month of struggling to resist the charisma of Hugh Jackman. Right now, your two lives couldn’t be more different: your album had dropped three weeks ago, one week after the deal was made. It has been an absolute success with four of your songs sitting in the top ten since the drop. You were doing interview after interview and rehearsals for your tour started up this past week. Meanwhile, Hugh was living the simple life. He has been done with his Deadpool and Wolverine promo for some time now and he’s been enjoying his free time. That was something you didn’t have much of as of recent- free time. You were trying to balance the few moments of freedom between all of the people you cared for, which mostly consisted of Ashley and Hugh. It’s gotten to a point where you were inviting your friends to the tour rehearsals just to be able to see them. When the idea first popped up, you had been afraid that they would be too distracting but the outcome was the opposite. Having a mini audience that weren’t part of the tour team, allowed everyone to make changes to things with the input of outside opinions. Ashley and a small group of your other friends were rehearsal regulars now.
You’d been seeing Hugh more privately, both of you agreeing to stay out of the public eye for a little bit while the dating rumors died down. Ashley had been a little too enthusiastic about your decision to be Hugh’s friend and nothing more. You loved reminding her that it was hopefully a temporary situation while we decided if being together exclusively was the right choice for both of us. She liked to ignore that part. Her despisement towards Hugh has been a mystery to you. She was always a little protective over you, as any normal friend would be, but it had never been to this extent. 
“Ash, do you wanna come to rehearsal tomorrow. We’re finally putting the choreography on the actual stage. I think you’ll like it. It’s gonna be fun.” You ask. The two of you were currently at Target shopping for her new apartment. “Uhhh of course. I need to catch up on all of the songs I missed. Then maybe you’ll consider putting me up on stage.” The last sentence comes out more singsongy than usual as she tries to convince you. She has brought up being on stage so often, you were beginning to feel bad, but she was a shit dancer. You didn’t have the heart to tell her. “Cool. I have to be there at seven, but I was thinking you guys could show up at noon. That’s when we’re scheduled to move over to the stage.” Her eyes light up. “Ooo. Who else is coming? Please tell me you invited Taylor again, she’s fun.” She rambles on as she pushes the cart through the lamp aisle. “Oh. I didn’t invite the girls again. It’s uh…it’s just gonna be you and Hugh.” She puts the lamp she’s been observing back onto the shelf. “Actually, I just remembered I have plans tomorrow.” She states flatley and starts to push the cart again. You follow her, waiting until you enter an aisle that was free of people before confronting her. “Ashley, don't be like that.” You whine. “I’m not being like anything y/n. I just forgot I had plans.” She shrugs as she busies herself by looking at the bathroom decor on the shelves. “What do you have against him?” You blurt out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Cut the shit Ash. You know exactly what I'm talking about. I can’t even mention his name without you trying to change the subject. I can’t even talk to my best friend about the guy I like because of this weird fucking grudge you have against him.” She stares at you, giving you a few slow blinks before speaking again. “Fine. I’ll be there but I can’t promise I'll be civil.” 
You didn’t push her any further, her answer was good enough for now. Target wasn’t the right place to fight with her about this and it probably wouldn’t do any good anyway. As much as you loved Ashley, she had a tendency to do and say wherever she pleased but when it came back to her, she played victim. It was becoming harder to deal with now that you weren’t children anymore. Later that night, while on facetime with Hugh, you decided to warn him about the shitshow which he was bound to end up in tomorrow.
“I’m not really sure what her deal is honestly. She won’t tell me why she doesn’t like you.” You pout. “It’s okay baby, not everyone is going to like me. I can handle it.” 
The endearments had been something that Hugh didn’t drop after the ‘just friends’ talk. You thought about talking to him about it but the words sounded too good rolling off of his tongue. You argued that it wasn’t any different than your other friends calling you ��babe’- it wasn’t the same at all but you didn’t care. You knew it meant more to both of you. 
“I know, but it would be really nice if you two could be friends, ya know? She just gets too overprotective I guess…” You tell him, not really believing your own words. “You don’t have to come tomorrow if you don’t want to. We can pick another day for you to come if you feel like it’ll be too awkward.” “Tomorrow is fine y/n. Everything will be okay. Don’t think about it too much, I’m sure I can charm her a little bit, get her on my side.” He assures you.
Ashley was on her worst behavior and it was pissing you off. It felt like you had covered Hugh in blood and thrown him to the sharks- when you think about it, he probably would have had a better shot at fighting off the sharks. The entire day so far had been full of eye rolls and snarky comments. When you had a moment alone with Hugh, all you could do was apologize for her behavior and he swore it was fine, it wasn't your fault. Ashley was acting weird towards you the entire morning. When you offered her to get up and learn some choreo, she brushed you off saying that she still needed to wake up. You glanced over at Hugh and Ashley every few minutes as they talked. It looked civil. The music was too loud to hear what the conversation was about and it was making you nervous. Hugh kept his eyes mostly on you as he spoke but Ashley’s were set on Hugh, never looking your way. You tried your best to ignore it, focusing on doing your job.
 For one of the songs, you would be giving one of the dancers named Ethan a lap dance. He had become a good friend over the past year you had known him and he made the whole grinding on him thing a lot less awkward than you thought it would be. “Are you and eye candy over there still playing friends?” Ethan asks as he gestures towards where Hugh and Ashley sat. “Yes..but it’s more lenient. Kinda like dating but nothing exclusive.” You explain, eyes on Hugh. He’s looking back at you and you’re sure he can tell that you’re talking about him. “You should do the dance for him, since he’s a special guest today and all.” He offers, smirk present on his face. “You don’t think that would be too mean? I want him to want me but I don’t wanna ruin the man. At least not yet anyways.” A similar smirk to Ethan’s was rising to your lips at the thought of Hugh being flustered over you. “I think you should do it.” You think about it for a moment and shame yourself for how quickly you made your decision. “You’re a bad influence.” You tell Ethan. Hugh’s eyes are still on you and you point your finger at him and wiggle it, motioning him to come here. 
“I’m gonna go sit down, have fun.” Ethan says and goes down the stairs to the stage as Hugh walks up them. “What’s up sweetheart?” He asks. “Ethan isn’t feeling well right now, would you mind standing in for him? You don’t have to do anything, just sit in that chair.” You point to the metal fold up chair that sits in the center of the catwalk. “Yea I can do that.” His smile is authentic, happy to help. “Thank you baby.” You say and you reach up to leave a quick kiss on his cheek. You pick up the mic that you sat on the stage floor earlier and turn it on. “We’re ready to go for the next one.” You announce through it so the sound crew could hear you. They announce ‘places’ and Hugh sits down in the chair. You walk over to the marker on the floor that indicates your starting position for this song. It’s about five feet behind Hugh’s chair, leaving him clueless on what’s happening. 
The song starts and you strut to the beat until you reach the chair. Your hands are on either side of Hugh’s chest and you move your hands around the same way that you had practiced many times before. His chest was hard and you could feel the muscles of his pecs. You slide your hands up to his shoulders and walk slowly around the chair until you're right in front of Hugh. The song slows at this point, giving the perfect moment for you to slowly drop yourself into his lap, arms around his neck. There’s three quick beats and you bounce up and down. Hugh’s eyes are wide in surprise. He’s a lot taller than Ethan and his thighs hold more muscle. It took a moment to get used to as the routine went on. The entire dance was pretty stereotypical: a lot of grinding, ass popping, and touching. You spent a good majority of the song whispering the words quietly to Hugh. He kept his hands to himself, not wanting to interrupt whatever move you had to do next. When the song ends, you’re out of Hugh’s lap and standing a foot in front of him for your ending pose. The crew gives you the okay to move and you turn back to Hugh, mischief present in your face. “Thank you Hugh!” You squeal, giving him a quick hug once he stands up. “Yea. yea…You’re such a tease.” He says the second part low enough so only you hear. As he walks back to his seat, you could have sworn you saw him trying to discreetly reposition whatever was happening in his pants. 
During your lunch break, Ashley’s strange act continued as she made up some excuse for her to leave- you could tell she was lying. Hugh and yourself ended up ordering subs from some local deli and ate in your dressing room. “So what do you think about everything so far?” You ask, referring to the choreo you’d been learning for the past three hours. “It’s…fun.” You huff at that. “You’re so terrible at describing things Hugh. Oh my god.” You complain. “I’m sorry…It's good.” You give him a blank stare, not satisfied with his answers. “Okay okay, don’t give me that look. You’re phenomenal…watching you dance and feeling you dance on me is making it really hard to just be your friend.” He shrugs, taking another bite of his sandwich. His answer makes you blush, familiar butterflies fly around your tummy. “Oh.” It’s all you could say. “You don’t have to accept my invites if it’s too hard on you.” “Hm. That’s not it, babe. I definitely want to be here. Wouldn’t have wanted to miss that little stunt you pulled earlier.” He winks as he refers to the lapdance. 
Comments like that had been frequent throughout the past month. Hugh Jackman was a natural flirt. That was a fact you had the pleasure of learning from personal experience and the displeasure of learning from the internet. You had seen countless videos of him being a flirty slut- as a married man. It worried you and had been something you’d been thinking about nonstop since the discovery. Him flirting with you was one thing, but you didn’t like the idea of him flirting with others when he was ‘yours’. You’d also seen videos of him mentioning multiple times that he liked older women, which had become another concern that ate at your brain. Last week, Hugh had come over for a movie night and you planned on casually mentioning the apprehension you had around the issue. 
“Sooo, I heard you liked older women?” 
Casual had never been your thing. 
“Uh..yea. It’s a preference of mine.” You could tell that the question made him uncomfortable. The tiny little toxic part of your heart was happy about that. You let out a short hum. “What was that for?”
 “What was what for?” 
 “Your little ‘hm.’.” You shrug as you speak your next words. “It’s just interesting.” 
 “What’s interesting.”  “You having a preference for older women.”  
“How is that any different from you liking older men?” He asks genuinely and you could honestly smack him right now for not seeing the issue and you would if he wasn’t across the couch. “Hm. I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’m currently interested in an older man and you’re straying quite far from your preferences Mr.Jackman.” He lets out a deep belly laugh. “Why are you laughing at me?” You cross your arms, a small pout sits on your lips. “You're jealous.” He smirks. “I’m not jealous. I’m skeptical.”  “There's no reason to be.” His eyes are gentle.  “If you say so.” You didn’t want to damper the mood but your mind was filled with ‘what ifs’ and you needed reassurance.
 “Hey. Come here sweet girl.” He motions for you to sit closer to him. You crawl over and his arm drapes over your shoulder. Your head rests on his chest and his cheek is resting on the crown of your hair. “I promise you have nothing to worry about. I like you and only you.” “Pinky promise?” You look up at him, holding out your pinky. He lets out a chuckle and links his pinky with your own. “Pinky promise.” He was looking down at you. You were staring in his eyes, watching the reflection from the flame of the pumpkin pie scented candle that sat on the coffee table flicker. He slowly leaned down, allowing his lips to softly touch yours. It was a lazy kiss, lips moving every few seconds. You could feel every part of Hugh’s lip slide against yours. The slowness of it all was arousing- the heat from his body wasn’t helping. The upward stretch of your neck became sore after a few minutes,  giving you the perfect excuse to climb into his lap. The makeout session lasted about thirty minutes, never speeding up, both of you enjoying the intimacy of the demure, slow kisses. You ground your hips into his in an undemanding manor, not wanting to rush the moment, just needing to feel him against you. A few whispered moans were thrown about, a few neck kisses here and there. The rules were beyond broken that night. You liked to imagine what would have happened if there wasn’t a knock on the door from the food you ordered earlier. 
Your cheeks heat up at the memory as you pick an onion off of your sandwich. Hugh was right, you were a tease. That night, he had initiated the kiss but you turned it into so much more. You could've stopped it, blaming it on the pain in your neck, but you wanted more. With Hugh, you always wanted more. It was your stupid idea to be his friend first and it was torturing you. “What’re you thinking about, pretty girl?” Hugh asks, dragging you out of your thoughts. “Nothing...These onions are too strong.” You flick the onion you picked off onto the paper that was once wrapped around your sub. “You sure that’s it? You can talk to me babe.” He’s sincere. He’s always so patient and caring towards you. It makes your heart swell. “I was thinking about our movie night.” You admit. “Anything in particular from that night?” He asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking about, the wide smirk on his stupid perfect face makes that obvious. “I wasn’t thinking about that, you perv. I was thinking about how I forgot to tell you that I’m going to New York next week.” He didn’t need to know that you were for sure thinking about every detail of his dick that you could remember and you really did forget to tell him that, so you weren’t technically lying. “Hm. I wonder what made you forget?” Smirk still plastered on his face. “I’m gonna ignore that comment.” And you did ignore it, immediately talking about your upcoming trip. “It's kinda gonna be my first time there. I performed a show there but I was gone the next day. I have an entire four days to explore this time. Well except for when I work but whatever.” You shrug at the end, voice filled with excitement ready to see the city in its full glory. “What do you have scheduled when you’re out there?” 
“I have a photoshoot, meetings, then the Tonight Show.” 
“First time on Fallon?” you laugh. “First time on any big talk show, I'm so fucking nervous.” 
“Don’t be. Jimmy’s a great guy and you’re good at talking. It’s easy to pay attention to you.” 
“Do you pay attention to me because I'm a good talker or do you pay attention to me because you think I'm pretty.” You were completely fishing for a compliment and you carried no shame for it. “Both.” 
Hugh had become a really good friend and not just because the two of you shared an occasional kiss. He was there for you when you had no one else. The next day, Ashley came over and you tried to ask her why she lied about needing to leave rehearsal early. She either gave a vague answer for each question or completely dodged it. You never asked Hugh about what they talked about, wanting the answer from your best friend, but it was looking like you would have to turn to him to get closer to the truth. You invited her to New York the second you found out you were going. Trying to get her out of her funky mood, you brought it up, asking if she was excited that it was coming up so soon. She quickly agreed to the excitement but each word came out flat and uninterested. About an hour after she left your house, you got a text. 
bestie boo: hey. i’m actually not gonna be able to make it to new york. sorry, ttyl. 
The text caught you off guard but it wasn’t a total surprise due to Ashley’s behavior while she was at your house. That didn’t mean it hurt any less though. The consistent dodginess from her made your throat tighten up. Your first instinct was to text Hugh, so that’s what you did.
You: hey, are you busy rn? 
Hugh <3: Hi baby. No, I'm not busy. What’s up?
You: can you come over? :(
Hugh <3: On my way! 
When you opened the door for him, worry was written on his face. “What’s wrong?” He takes off his shoes, the same way he has the past few times he’s come over. “I feel like you’re always asking me that.” You slump over slightly. “I gotta make sure my girl is okay.” All of the sadness you had over Ashley almost vanished entirely. “I’m your girl?” You ask looking up at him. “Of course you’re my girl y/n. Just waiting for the day you wanna label it.” He smiles down at you and offers his hand. “Now c’mon, tell me what’s got you all blue.” You grab his hand and he follows the familiar route to your living room couch. He sits down and pulls you down towards him. You’re sitting next to him, your side against his. He pulls your legs up so they lay across his lap and he rubs slow circles into your thigh.
 “What’s got that pretty face of yours frowning?” He pinches your thigh lightly as he asks the question. “It’s Ashley, she’s being really weird Hugh. She always tells me things and now she’s just…not.” He has his own frown now. “I’m sorry baby….Is this about me again?” 
“Kinda but not totally. I just wanted to know why she doesn’t like you. You’ve become so important to me and I plan on having you around for a while. She’s been my best friend since we were kids, I want her to like you and be able to be around you.” You put your hands over your eyes, your palms applying  pressure on them to prevent the tears from falling. All the pent up frustration was starting to reach its limit. “Hey, look at me.” He grabs your chin, a gesture he’s done more times than you can count. “Don’t let me come in between your friendships.” You sigh. “It’s not your fault Hugh.” 
“I…I think it might be my fault a little bit.” He admits with a guilty expression, making your heart sting. “What do you mean?” 
“She uh… Ashley might have flirted with me yesterday. I shut it down but…” He sighs nervously. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how to tell you to be honest..” The room around you both felt stuffie and too small. The tears that were held back by the palms of your hands just a few minutes ago, spill out. You were feeling too many emotions: hurt, anger, betrayal. 
This wasn’t the first time Ashley had done something like this. She’d done it with Pedro when the two of you were already together. The only difference is that she felt so guilty that she confessed. This time, Ashley was too much of a coward to tell you what she had done to your face. You didn’t want to lose your best friend but you couldn’t keep her around when all she seemed to do was hurt you. Hugh holds you as you cry, not saying a word. He leaves little kisses on your head and tells you that ‘it’s okay’ over and over. He let you cry without knowing what it was you were crying about. You felt so stupid to have let this slip past you. It had been almost the exact same situation before. Ashley acted weird towards Pedro, she starts being vague, and then you find out what she did. Déjà fucking vu. You couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s funny sweetheart?” Your mind had been racing so fast, you almost forgot that Hugh’s was still here holding you. He had gone still, the only reminder of his presence was the weight of his arms around you. “I just can’t believe she did it again without me noticing. I feel dumb.” His body jerks in surprise. “Again?” 
It was Saint Patrick's day and you were at Ashley’s place getting ready for a party. It was a weird holiday to throw a party for but people used any excuse to get drunk. Leading up to this day, Ashley has been yapping non stop about going to her first celebrity party but tonight, she couldn’t have been more quiet. You excused her behavior for nerves, not questioning it more. Her demeanor has been different for a few days. Ashley wasn’t one to open up quickly or talk about her problems. You only pried as much as you could before being shut out and right now you had been completely blocked off. You tried your best to ignore it, trying to focus on the night ahead of you. 
Billie is who had invited you to the party as the two of you grew close. Being the same age, doing the same job, and experiencing the same things made it impossible for the two of you not to be friends. The party was going to be filled with people you’d never met before, so you asked her if you could bring a person or two- Ashley and Pedro. It was when you told Ashley that Pedro would also be coming, that her prior eagerness for the party dissipated. 
Just as you sat down to start your makeup, Ashley finally spoke. “Y/n…I think I’m gonna skip out on the party tonight.” You lift your head to look at her through the mirror.“What, why? We’ve been talking about this for weeks.” 
 “I just don’t feel like going anymore.” She’s scrolling through her phone. “You’re such a shitty liar, Ash. What’s up? Why don’t you wanna go anymore?” You turn the spinny chair your in to face her. She put her phone down and the look on her face was one you wouldn’t ever forget. It was a look full of guilt, shame. You were trying to comfort your best friend while she was about to tell you the most heat shattering words. “I don’t think it’s smart to be around Pedro.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “Why not. I thought you guys were good now, that you liked him?” She’s fidgeting with her hands. “Y/n we kissed.” 
“Who kissed?” You ask, hoping you were misinterpreting what she was saying. “Me and Pedro.” You hadn’t misunderstood her words. 
Your heart shattered. Pedro has only been your boyfriend for a little over a month but it still hurts. You were still in the honeymoon phase, where everything felt like love even though it was just over infatuation with the new relationship. Without thinking about it, you started collecting your things to leave, gathering the makeup you just placed onto the table back into its bag. “What are you doing?” Ashley asks nervously. “I’m leaving.” She didn’t try to stop you. 
When you got home, you felt numb. There was a strong ache in your chest where your heart sits but there wasn’t an ounce of emotions flowing through you. The betrayal of the person you trusted most in this life was worse than any other pain you could think of. You spend hours laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, when a knock finally pulls you out of whatever trance you were in. “Hey baby. Ashley texted me saying I should come check on you.” He steps into the house and follows you down the entry hall. “Oh I didn’t know you guys were on texting terms now…” You trail off for a second, not leaving Pedro enough time to say anything before you speak again. “Huh…You know, I guess it would make sense, seeing as you guys are apparently on kissing terms.” You stop and stare at him, looking dead in his eyes. He winces. “She told you about that.” The statement pisses you off. “What the fuck do you mean ‘she told you about that.’? Were you planning on keeping it a secret?” Your voice gradually rises alongside the anger in your body. “No, but I-” 
“but fucking what Pedro? You kiss my best fucking friend and then hide it from me??” Your finger hurts from the pressure of pointing it into his chest. “I didn’t kiss her.” You ignore him. “When did it happen?” “Baby, listen to me. I didn’t kiss Ashley.” He ignores you. “WHEN DID IT HAPPEN?” You scream at him, all of the emotions spilling over. You sink down to the floor, abandoning your prior standing position, and you cry. 
“I didn’t kiss her babygirl. I would never hurt you like that.” He sits down next to you, his back against the wall. You don’t speak. “It was last Tuesday, when she came over to talk to me like you asked her to. She said it was because you wanted her to like me, for us to be friends. She started acting differently and before I knew it she was kissing me. That’s all that happened baby.” He explains as he runs his fingers along the baby hairs on your forehead. “You didn’t kiss her?” You look into his big brown puppy eyes, searching for the truth. “I didn’t kiss her.” He affirms. “I promise, babygirl.” 
“Pinky promise?” He interlocks his pinky with yours. 
You didn’t speak to Ashley for two weeks after that incident. You wanted so badly to know why she did it, but in the end you didn’t think it mattered, each outcome still ended with her being a selfish person- a bad friend. You didn’t really talk things out either but you decided to forgive her. The friendship was too important to you at the time to give up but you wouldn’t let her be anywhere near Pedro again. The idea of them being friends was out the window. 
 “What a bitch.” His thick accent shining through extra hard with his own anger.- it makes you laugh. “I don’t even know what to do at this point. I don’t think I can trust her anymore.” he nods in agreement. “I know sweetheart but I'm here for you, no matter what you decide to do. Okay?” it's your turn to nod. “Okay. Thank you Hugh, really. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You look up at him, giving him a small smile and a quick kiss on his side. “You know what sucks more than possibly losing my best friend for good?” You ask, humor shines in your eyes. “What’s that?”
“Losing my New York tour guide.” He laughs. “You’re laughing now, but it’s serious. She created these crazy itineraries for us to be the most obnoxious tourist. Now I have to rely on my own planning skills, which aren’t great.” Hugh goes quiet for a moment. You search his face for his thoughts and he seems unsure of what he’s about to say. 
“I could..uh. I could go to New York with you. I kinda need to go anyways, been meaning to go.” He says and when you don’t speak right away, he panics. “You don’t have to say yes. I know we’ve been spending a lot of time together and I understand if you want some time for yourself..” You giggle at his overthinking. “Hugh, I would love for you to come to New York with me.” He lets out a breath you didn’t know he was holding. “Okay good. That’s great! I needed to go back a few weeks ago actually so this works out for the both of us.” 
“Why didn’t you go back when you needed to?” His cheeks go red. “Oh my god! You totally stayed because of me didn’t you?”
 “Maybe..” He admits. “I was scheduled to fly back to New York before your album party, but then you texted me. I couldn’t pass that up.” 
“You keep acting like this and you’re gonna make me fall in love with you Hugh Jackman.” A smug smile falls onto his lips. “You better.” 
The few days leading up to you leaving for New York were short. Hugh left for the city the next day, promising he would see you the moment you landed, sealing the promise with a quick kiss. You busied yourself with tour rehearsals and interview prep. It had been a lonely few days. Hugh was gone and you weren’t talking to Ashley, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You and Hugh texted daily but it wasn’t the same as being in his presence, a presence you had come to enjoy having around. You were close to saying ‘fuck it’ and be fully committed to him but a part of you was still hesitant. Too much has happened recently, it feels like you can’t think straight half the time. Your last relationship was only a few months ago, your best friend was trying to steal every man you liked, and you’re at the peak of your career. You needed a mental breather. 
LAX airport was cold and stuffy. People were walking casually towards their destination with a few runners here and there. While you loved traveling, airports made you feel uneasy. There were so many people going to the most random places on the most random days and random times. It was uncomfortable to think about. You sat there in silence, too afraid to wear headphones. You liked to know what was happening around you at all times, a freak peeve. When it was finally time to board the plane, you were already exhausted from it all. Almost seven hours later, you landed at JFK airport in New York City. Once you turn off airplane mode on your phone, you see a few texts from Hugh. He insisted that he could pick you up from the airport and take you to your hotel. Your ‘personal chauffeur” he jokingly called himself. You texted Hugh back as people hurriedly grabbed their belongings and scurried down the thin aisles. 
You: just landed! see you soon hot stuff ;)
He told you beforehand that he made arrangements to pick you up in a private area, away from prying eyes. You weren’t nearly famous enough to know what that means, so you simply followed the instructions he gave you. It was a little confusing at first, having only been in the busy airport once before. With some help from workers, Hugh was finally in your view. He had a big smile on his face with his arms open wide for you. You walked with a little pep in your step, suitcase rolling behind you. When you got close enough, you let the handle go and ran the rest of the short distance to Hughs arms. His embrace was warm and welcoming, a familiar place. 
“Missed you sweet girl.” He mumbles into your hair. You pull back slightly, arms still holding him. “Missed you too.” Your voice is shy, almost forgetting how it felt to have his attention on you. You had missed him, more than you thought you would. Hearing his voice again made life feel real again after the past mundane days you’ve endured. The walk to his car was intimate- his arm sat atop your shoulders as you walked side by side. He insisted on rolling your luggage for you and wouldn’t take no for an answer when you protested. A true gentleman. He opened the passenger door for you, making sure you were in before putting your suitcase in the trunk and hopping into the driver's side. He looked a lot more presentable than you did. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt that hugged his biceps in a way that almost made you drool. It was simple but he looked delicious. Your sweats and hoodie couldn’t compare. His beard had finally grown in, no longer the prickly stubble that rested there a month ago. It was full and you hoped he would let it grow to that length that made him look even more expensive. 
“The option to stay at my place is still on the table if you want it babe.” He says, resting his hand on your thigh as he begins to pull out of the hidden parking lot. There was something so attractive about a man driving. Hugh’s side profile was godly and him driving really did something to your brain. “That wouldn’t be very friendly of us Hugh.” You rest your hand on top of his. “I think that’s the friendliest thing I could possibly do. Offer you a place to stay while in town instead of staying in a dingy hotel.” He eggs on trying to convince you. He first pitched the idea the night he offered to come to New York with you. You immediately declined, not wanting to invade his space. You wouldn’t know how to handle it, it made things too real. He had been over to your house countless times, but you had never been to his. You thought it best to keep it that way. You weren’t sure you could control yourself around him when you were surrounded by all things him. “Nothing is ever friendly between us Hugh.” He squeezes your thigh. “I have to argue with you there baby. In my humble opinion, we are too friendly.” He glances over to you and gives you a wink. He hasn’t been afraid of letting his intentions known. To let you know that he wants you, not as a friend. You’ve seen just how bad he craved you and it was tempting. He knew he had a dangerous effect on you, one that you worked really hard to control. 
“You’re always so horny.” You mumble. “It’s hard not to be when I have a gorgeous girl like you around all the time.” God he was so good with his words. His voice and his way of speaking. It was no mystery as to why he had people swooning for him left and right- you included. “Whatever.” You open your phone to text Stacy, letting her know you landed and in good hands. It was weird flying solo. You got so accustomed to flying along Ashley or Stacy. You weren’t particularly mad at the change if it meant you got to see Hugh’s face light up just at seeing you again. “Will you at least come over once?” He asks, hopeful. “I’ve seen your house, I’d really like you to see mine. It’s where I live most of the time. It would mean a lot.” The squeeze on your thigh lingers, his grip lasting longer than the previous one. You didn’t know how to explain that you really didn’t want to do that- be in his house. You didn’t think he would understand what you mean when you say ‘it’s too much’. The desperation in his voice, the yearning he felt to have you in his home. You couldn’t say no. “Yea I can do that.” The small smile that rested on his lips grew, his face lighting up. It made your stomach twist up in knots. 
The hotel that Stacy booked for you was grand. The elegance and class in the places you’ve stayed at while traveling has never failed to amaze you. Growing up, your family didn’t have a lot of money. When you went on family trips, the cheapest hotel, usually a motel 6, was your usual nightly accommodations. The places you stayed in now would have little you screaming and running around. The whole ‘entering fame’ process had been a huge culture shock that you were still learning to navigate appropriately. 
“Hm. Not too shabby, my house is better though.” Hugh says as he sits your luggage to the side. He had put a hat and sunglasses on, trying to make it less obvious that it was him- trying to hide that it was him who was with you. The hat, sunglasses, and beard combo was doing a number on your body. It took a lot of strength to keep yourself from dragging him to the bed and riding him until you were satisfied. Though, you’re not sure that you could ever be fully satisfied with Hugh. Not because you were scared he wouldn’t be good in bed but because you knew once he had you, you would need him again and again until you physically couldn’t handle him anymore. You  felt him that one night on the couch, movie night, you knew that man was packing and that it wouldn’t take much for him to bruise your cervix.
 “Hugh, please.” You warn him. He puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry, sorry…Just don’t forget that it’s an option.” “I don’t think you’d let me forget..” You let out a breathy laugh after. Hugh sits down at a small table and watches you as you walk around, exploring the room. You unpack a few things to make it easier on yourself later. “Are you up for exploring today?” He asks as he walks into the bathroom, where you’re placing your toiletries along the vanity counter. “Oo! I’d love to explore. I have one weird request though.” You're still facing the mirror when Hugh comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, sitting a little higher due to his height. “What’s that baby?” He’s watching you through the mirror, as you organize your skin care. “I wanna go to Trinity Church to see Hamilton's grave.” You say nonchalantly. Hugh laughs and questions you. “I need to sing the ‘he’s buried in Trinity Church near you’ line from Hamilton.” Hugh continues laughing. “What!?” He barely gets the words out. It somewhat offends you.  “I thought you’d understand, being a theater nerd and all but I guess not.” You cross your arms and try to break through his hold to walk away. “Mhm. I’m sorry, come back. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. You’re just full of surprises.” You relax in his hold. 
“Does that mean you’ll take me?” You look at his eyes through the mirror. “Yea i’ll take you.” He smiles. You look at Hugh in the mirror, observing how the two of you look together. He looks really good holding you and not to toot your own horn, but Hugh and yourself made an attractive couple. He looked good on your arm and you looked good on his. “You're so pretty, baby.” He whispers. “Every time I look at you, I’m blown away that you’re hanging around with me.” His arms tighten around you. “Hmm. I think we look good together, don’t you?” You reach your neck up to look at him as best as you can given the angle. He studies your two bodies in the mirror before agreeing. “Yea we do.”
Walking around with Hugh felt freeing. You’ve been trying so hard to keep things private lately that every time you weren’t in the secure confines of your house with him, you felt panicked. It was something that crossed your mind before the two of you left the hotel but he assured you that it wasn’t very likely that someone would notice both of you. You were a little doubtful in his words, opting to dress in a way that protected you from the early fall breeze and from making it too obvious of who you were. Hugh had been right though, you both were able to walk around pretty freely, undisturbed. He brought you to trinity church first and reluctantly filmed a video of you dramatically singing the line from Hamilton. To you it was peak comedy and Hugh was being a big hater. He took you to a few of his favorite places, hidden gems. It was perfect. You wanted to hold his hand, bodies brushing against each other as you walked, but you couldn’t. The night ended by Hugh taking you to get traditional New York pizza. He ordered a large pepperoni and you both walked back to the hotel. The moment your room door was opened, you were pulling your heeled boots off. The walking destroyed your feet but you’d gone beyond your daily step goals- a win is a win. Sitting at the table with Hugh, you both grabbed a slice of pizza. He waited for you to take a bite first, looking for your reaction. When you took a bite, you let out a moan- you weren’t sure if it was because it tasted that good or because of how hungry you were. “That good?” Hugh asks in amusement. “Yes, I was starving.” He chuckles and takes his own big bite. The two of you down the entire pizza at an embarrassingly fast rate. “Did you have fun today?” He asks you. “Yea, I really did. Thank you Hugh.” 
When Hugh left, you scrolled through all of the pictures and videos you had taken today. You snuck a couple of Hugh and you might have stared at them a little too long. You watched the Trinity Church video so you could post it on TikTok. As you uploaded it into the app and were giving it one last watch before hitting post, a sound caught your attention. You grabbed your headphones and connected them to get a better listen. As you were singing, you could hear Hugh quietly laughing in the background. The sound brought a smile to your face, replaying it over and over just to hear it again. You hit the ‘post’ and called it a night. 
The next morning was an early one. You had to be at the photo shoot at five am to get ready, meaning you were out the door at four. Stacy met you down in the lobby and led you to the car she had waiting for you. “How was your first day in New York? You and Ashley have fun?” She asks as she buckles her seatbelt. “Oh, Ashley didn’t come, we aren’t friends anymore. My first day was good though, really fun.” You smile at the memories of the day prior, ignoring the small pain from hearing Ashley’s name. Stacy gives you a questioning look. You sigh before explaining, “She was being weird and it turns out she was flirting with Hugh the other day when they came to rehearsals. She didn’t even have the decency not to do it in the exact same room.” Her expression turns to an understanding one. “Well, good riddance. I knew after the first time that the girl was nothing but trouble. Good for you babe.” She types on her phone for a moment before turning her attention back to you- your staring out the window, taking in the somewhat empty streets that were full of people the night before.
“So, what did you do yesterday that was so fun?” You don’t look at her when you respond. “Hugh took me exploring, showed me the city.” She snorts. “Hugh, huh?” You look at her sheepishly. “Yea. He felt bad that I didn’t have someone to go with me so he offered.” You shrug. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “I told you.” 
“Told me what?” 
“That you wouldn’t be able to stay away from that man.” She shakes her head. You sometimes forgot just how well Stacy knows you after years of her by your side. The car comes to a stop outside of a short building, shorter than the other ones around it anyway. You sat in hair and makeup for a while, talking to the artists as they worked. You always liked making conversation with the people that helped you, it was always interesting hearing everyone's stories. The photo shoot wasn’t anything crazy. It was a well known photographer that had worked with major stars, her most recent model being Zendaya. It was a huge compliment that she wanted to work with you. It wasn’t like other shoots you had done before, this had been way more artsy and free. You were so used to doing things for brands or for your own music, where everything needed to be a certain way. It was nice to work on projects where you didn’t have to think but just be you. 
When the shoot was over, you sat in a small lobby with Stacy as you waited for the car to come pick you up. You opened tiktok to see what people were saying in the comments of your latest post. Most of them were freaking out over the laugh in the background, over analyzing it to find out who it was. There were a few comments that speculated that it might be Hugh and it made you laugh, shocked by the crazy detective skills your fans had. You kept scrolling when you saw a comment that caught your attention.
‘Y/N GET YOUR MAN UNDER CONTROL SDJFJSDF’ 
You clicked on the ‘view replies’ tab under it trying to figure out what they were talking about. Thankfully, other people were just as confused as you were with multiple ‘context?’ comments under it. 
‘look at hughs recent instagram post 😭’
In curiosity, you closed Tiktok and opened instagram. You went to the search bar, clicking on his username from your recent searched section. You click on the most recent picture making it enlarge and you let out an audible gasp. “Are you okay?” Stacy asks. You almost forgot where you were for a second. “Yea i’m fine…funny tiktok comment.” You tried to play it off, hoping she’d buy the excuse. It seems to work as she gives a small nod, looking back down to her phone. You look back down at your own device, in complete and utter shock. You knew he was built, seeing other pictures he had posted and endless edits of his greasy hawaiian rolls from Deadpool and Wolverine. 
This however seemed so much slutier. He was in, what you assumed was his home bathroom, taking shirtless pictures of himself. You could tell it had been recent because his beard and hair were the same length that it’s been for the past week. You felt frozen, not knowing what to do. He looked absolutely scrumptious. Pulling out your airpods from your purse, you put them on to listen to the attached audio. You had no fucking clue how you were supposed to look him in the eyes the next time you saw him. His voice was something special. It had the ability to make your knees weak at the sound. This was no different. It felt like he was teasing you subtly. You quickly screenshot the picture and swipe out of instagram, opening your message app. 
You: I leave you alone for less than 24 hours and you’re over here posting thirst traps for the internet… 
Hugh <3: I just wanted to thank my team. As the caption said…I am grateful. 
You: hmm you say it’s being grateful, I say it’s being a SLUT!! 
You: you look really fucking good though…
Hugh<3: 😂😂😂
Hugh<3: Thank you baby. Do I get to see you today or are you still busy? 
You: I have meetings the rest of the day :( 
Hugh<3: It’s okay sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow? 
You: I have fallon tmrw night but i’ll be free at 8pm if you wanna meet up then? 
Hugh<3: That works for me. Text me when you’re done for the day, okay? Talk to you later baby
The car finally stops signaling that you were at the first meeting of the day. There were endless introductions, hand shaking, and smiling. It was a lot more tiring than it sounded. Stacy was doing most of the work, covering major details for whatever was being discussed- again you mainly sat and listened. There were a few times when you really had to pay attention as key points were being made but nothing would be final until your team and lawyer looked over whatever deals were being discussed. There was a short two hour break of freedom that Stacy and yourself used to grab some food. Then it was right back to work. You were somewhat grateful for Stacy scheduling all of the heavy work stuff on one day because it meant you didn’t have to do this again on the remaining days of your trip. Stacy liked to set it up that way, giving you more time to be free from work, you loved her for it. The two of you had dinner together and went your separate ways after. You got back to your hotel at ten and to say you were worn out was an understatement. Your head was hurting from all the talking and bright fluorescent lights of each office you sat in today. 
You: I’m finally freeeee!! 
After hitting send, you hopped in the shower. The best thing about staying in an expensive hotel was how great the water pressure was. The hot water felt like heaven against your sticky skin, the thick body glitter from the photoshoot finally slipping away. You let your mind wander back to the picture that had been in your mind all day. Running your hands down your body, teasing yourself while imagining that it was Hugh’s wide hands instead. You let your hands disappear in the place that ached the most, working as your mind played the fantasies that ate away at you. You could almost feel Hugh’s mouth whispering against your ear as the feeling of ecstasy washes over your body, the running water muffling the sounds of your pleasure. 
Hugh still hadn’t texted you back when you had gotten out of the shower. It was unusual for him to take so long to respond but given the time- and his age- he was probably asleep. The downside to dating older men was their need to be in bed so early. You giggled to yourself thinking about the thought of Hugh being knocked the fuck out in bed after yawning since the clock hit 7pm. Laying in bed, you whipped out your phone opening twitter. You tweeted a quick post, reminding your fans to watch Jimmy Fallon tomorrow night. You scrolled lazily for a while, feeling the sleep take over you but when you saw one post in particular, you felt wide awake. 
‘Hugh Jackman and ex-wife seen walking around New York together a year after separation.’ 
You had no right to feel the jealousy and anger that sat tight in your chest. His ex-wife was something you were completely aware of but it was a subject neither Hugh or yourself had talked about. You understood that she would always be around, after being married to her longer than you’d even been alive. You laugh in disbelief. It sounded so stupid when you put it like that. The age gap never bothered you until you put it in perspective. You couldn’t help who you liked though. The overthinking hit faster than you could stop it. You wondered why he didn’t tell you that he was seeing her today. His smile in the picture was a little too wide, he looked too happy. He wasn’t even yours to claim, yet you wanted her to know that he had you now, that he wanted you. The vile thoughts that danced around your head were making your temper rise. You set some alarms and tried to get some sleep. Most of the night was tossing and turning, thinking about Hugh’s ex-wife. 
Hugh<3: Good morning sweet girl. I’m sorry for not getting back to you last night. I fell asleep on the couch waiting for you to text me lol 
It was what you saw first when your alarm went off. It was sent a few hours ago since you gave yourself some time to sleep in, given the trouble you had getting to sleep last night. You ultimately decided that you wouldn’t be mad at him for it, you didn’t have a reason to be. If the two of you were official, things would be different, but you weren’t. You were going to try your best to swallow the jealousy and let it be. 
You: good morning baby! I figured that’s what happened lol
Hugh<3: Are you excited for Fallon tonight? 😄
You: yea…only a tinsy bit nervous 
Hugh<3: You’re gonna crush it babe, I know it. I still get to see you after yea? Miss you
You: I miss you too :(
You: do you wanna meet at the hotel after or…?
Hugh<3: I can pick you up and we can go to my place? 
You stared at the message contemplating it. Hugh’s house was already a fear of yours but his house at night seemed a lot more intimate. You felt the need to be that intimate with him though- it was fueled by the pictures from last night, you knew it was. If that hadn't happened, you’d be saying no, making up excuses not to. You needed the validation too much to think straight. 
You: yea we can do that :)
Once you get to the Tonight Show studio, you barely have time to put your things down before you're being guided around. Thankfully, you warmed up your voice before leaving your hotel room just in case you didn’t have time to do it here. The crew had you and your dancers do a quick run through of the song to make sure everything was working before you were sent to your dressing room to get ready. Kat, your stylist, and Amari, your makeup and hair artist, were already in the room ready to get to work. You took the time to catch up with both of them, the three of you falling into a familiar routine. Your nerves started to build up as it got closer to the filming time. About twenty minutes before you were called to stage, Jimmy came back to introduce himself. He was a really sweet guy, super bubbly and humble. It eased your mind a little bit but they shot right back up when your name was called. “Y/n L/n everybody!”. The studio audience erupted in cheers as you walked to Jimmy’s desk. “Welcome to the show, how are you doing tonight?” He asks. “I’m doing amazing, thank you so much for having me.” The cheers finally slow down. “So, I got told that this is your first late night show interview, is that right?” 
“Yes, it is!” 
“I’m honored to be the first.” 
“I’m glad it’s you who popped my late night talk show cherry, Jimmy.” You joke, using your song's title as a pun, which he does his famous laugh at. The interview was going really well, most of the questions being ones you’ve answered countless times before.
“There have been a few rumors going around after a tiktok you posted the other day and I have to ask.” You nod ready for whatever question he’s about to ask. “Is the laugh behind the camera Mr. Hugh Jackman?” Your smile falters for a second before you put it right back on. This was something you weren’t prepared for at all. You let out a laugh. “The fans can keep speculating. A girl never kisses and tells.” It probably wasn’t the best answer- you know it wasn’t the best answer- but it’s all you could come up with in that moment. You just hoped no one noticed the split second your calm facade slipped, that it felt longer than it had actually lasted. 
Hugh was already there when you were free to leave, having texted him in the spare moment you had while getting changed into your performance outfit. Once you were in the car, he didn’t hesitate to ask how it went. “It was good. He uh…he asked about you.” You don’t why you were concerned about how he would respond, but you were. “About me?” He glances at you quickly before focusing on the road again. “Uhh..yeah. I posted the Hamilton video on tiktok and you can hear you laughing in it. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal but people started to guess it was you. I’m sorry.” You slump down into the seat, waiting for his anger to come but it never does. “Don’t apologize baby. I want people to know I’m with you.” He never fails at knowing what to say, his words always flow out of his mouth effortlessly. “I kinda redirected the question though, not really giving a solid answer. I don’t know, it really threw me off.” He nods. “They like to do that, be sneaky.” 
It took a little longer than expected to get to his place, New York traffic moving at a snail's pace. When you do finally arrive, he’s pulling into an underground parking garage that sits under a skyscraper that you can’t see the top of. The elevator ride up was easily the longest one you’d ever been on, his penthouse being on the 56th floor. He opens the door and turns on the light switch that is conveniently placed in the entrance. “Welcome to my home. Mi casa es su casa.” He jokes and you let out a short snort at the stupid joke. “Would you like the official Hugh Jackman house tour?” Excitement was radiating off of him and you thought it was cute that he was this worked up about you being here, in his space. “I’d love one.” He offers his hand and you take it. Your once icy hand being warmed up instantly from his large, warm one. 
As he dragged you to the living room, you started to feel that uneasiness again, like you shouldn’t be here. It kept nagging at you in the back of your head but you refused to pick at it. This was making Hugh happy, you weren’t going to ruin that because of whatever issues you were hiding. After showing you the living room, he pulls you into a large kitchen. A vase full of bright pink flowers, balloons, and a cookie cake that reads ‘congrats’ sits on the counter. You let go of his hand and walk over to the island while he stays put. You run your fingertips over the soft petals of the flowers, peonies- your favorite. “Do you like them? I uh..wasn’t sure what your flower preference was, so I chose peonies because of your song.” 
The gesture makes you emotional. You’d never had a man go out of his way for you like this. He hadn’t known what flowers you liked but he remembered your song title to fill in the blank. A song where you had one line that says: ‘you got me roses when you know I like peonies’. A song from your debut album. “I love them. I love this.” You gesture to the display. You walk back over to where he stands and reach up to grab his face, bringing it down to give him a quick peck on his lips. “This means a lot to me, thank you Hugh.” The previous perturbation vanishing from your head, that cherished easiness you felt with Hugh slips back in. You were meant to be here. 
“Shall we finish the tour?” You ask, spirits high. “Of course my lady, right this way.” He leads you room to room, giving you a mini explanation for each one. It was an average home, well average for a millionaire. It was obvious that a single, older man lived here but not in a bad way, there just wasn’t a woman's touch on the place. “This is bathroom number two, the one I use most frequently.” Something about the room seemed familiar as you looked around. There were a few art pieces on the marbled wall, a large mirror across from them. You were looking at the suspiciously large mirror when it clicked. 
“OH MY GOD!! This is the thirst trap bathroom! I can’t believe I have the pleasure of being in such a sacred place.” You move around the space in a theatrical way, pretending you were in a place of true importance. 
“Oh god…shut up.” He groans in embarrassment. “Could you reenact the moment? It would really help me get the full feel of the room.” You’re still teasing him but that question came back to slap you right across the face. You see a smirk on Hugh's face and he’s reaching his hands down and starts lifting his shirt off- but not in the practical way but in the super sexy crossed arms way. “WAIT! I was just kidding.” You practically scream at him, not mentally prepared to see Hugh shirtless in person. He stops and shrugs, turning around to leave the room. Before you can stop yourself, the horny part of your brain is speaking. “Wait no, keep going.” He slowly turns around with that stupid sexy smile of his and the raised eyebrow thing he does. The atmosphere of the small room changed instantly. He’s pulling at his shirt again, painfully slow in your opinion. As he inches it up, you analyze each slither of skin that’s freed. There is a patch of hair below his belly button leading down into his pants. A strong v-line and a thick vein practically popping out of his skin, begging to be traced with your tongue. The shirt goes higher and higher, revealing more of his chest. Each ab pops out and it’s like a gift from God right in front of your eyes. He pulls the shirt over his head, biceps flexing slightly, and drops the shirt onto the floor. You're frozen in place, not believing that this is real. 
You never have been one to believe in karma but you must have been a saint in your past life to deserve this. You see his mouth move but don’t hear a word he says. All you see is the hairy chest you’d been thirsting over, moving closer until it’s right in front of you. He grabs your cheeks between one hand and faces your eyes up towards his own. “Are you okay y/n?” He has a worry behind his eyes. 
“You’re like really hot. It’s actually frustrating how hot you are.” His grip on your face loosens as you speak. “You asked to see, I was only fulfilling your wishes.” You felt dizzy. He hadn’t even touched you and the way your whole face sits in his one hand and the way his abs are begging to be licked, had you flustered. You were drunk on Hugh. “You're wandering again…maybe I should put my shirt back on.” He goes to reach for it but you reach out, lightly grabbing his arm to stop him. “Not yet.” It’s mumbled and quiet, aimed more towards yourself than it was to him. 
Hugh stands back up, his height towering over you. You couldn’t decide if he had always been so tall. Towering over you in a way that made your heart beat faster. Your mind was battling itself: the arousal wanting nothing more than for Hugh to do whatever he wanted with you while the more reasonable side knew that there were too many things that needed to be talked about before crossing this line. The line had been crossed many times before with the kisses, touches, hand holding- the night on the couch… Sex was different. You weren’t fond of casual sex, it was too intimate an act to categorize as such. Whatever was happening between Hugh and yourself was far from casual though and you trusted him not to hurt you.
“You’re kinda scaring me here, pretty girl. Are you okay?” You couldn’t tell him that seeing his chest had sent you into a horny dazed confusion. You looked up at him, into his worried eyes. He was always so concerned about your well being and he cared so much about everything going on in your life. God, you prayed that this wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass.
“Kiss me please.” Your voice is shaky, unstable. “Are you sure baby?” His hands rest on your shoulders, eyes searching yours for any doubt. 
“Please Hugh. I need you to kiss me.” His once troubled eyes turned dark as he bent down, kissing you like he never had before. The kiss was messy, full of hunger. His hands trailed down your sides until they cupped under the base of your ass. He effortlessly picks you up to sit you on the bathroom counter, lips never breaking contact. You could feel his tongue prodding at the entrance of your mouth as it asked for permission to enter. Granting access, your lips open, a throaty moan draws out as you feel his tongue swipe against yours. He pulls back for a moment. “Can I take this off? Is that okay?” He asks, referring to your shirt. His usual thick australian accent was soft in his breathy voice. You nod shyly and he doesn’t hesitate to reach down. You put your arms up to aid him as he gently pulls the shirt up and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck baby…so fucking pretty.” His hands cup your bra covered breast, thumbs softly trailing over your stiff nipples causing you to drop your head back with a moan of pleasure. “We never finished the tour, sweet girl.” His hands are still fondling you and you lift your head back up to look at him. “What?” 
“There’s one more room I didn't get to show you.” His hands finally drop from your chest and he’s grabbing your hand, leading you towards whatever room it was that you hadn’t seen. He opens the door and the air surrounding you smells like Hugh. It was almost enough to make you pass out, head already light and fuzzy. 
You don’t have time to look around, Hugh immediately turning you to face him, attacking your mouth once again. His hands are reaching for the button of your jeans, pulling them down slowly once he’s got them open. Hugh’s lips escape yours and trail down your neck, your chest, the sides and your body, and finally your stomach as he slowly lowers himself to sit on his knees. He lifted each of your feet, helping you out of each pant leg. At each lift of your leg, he also pulls each sock off, kissing your calves as he does so. You're left in nothing but a black bra and thong. “Mhm. Can I touch you baby?” He asks looking up at you. You nod, the position he was in, all too arousing. He practically growls at your answer and starts leaving messy kisses on your thighs, his hands gripping the back of them. His lips trail up higher, ghosting over where you needed him the most. You could feel his breath through the thin cotton of your panties. Your own breath hitches as he licks a long teasing path between your two folds, the cotton dipping into them from the weight of his tongue. He looks up at you through his lashes, asking for permission. You mouth a small ‘please’ the only word that seems to be in your vocabulary at the moment. 
His thick fingers slip between the fabric and the skin on your hip on either side of your body, pulling the soaked thong down your legs. Before he continues, he’s standing up and guiding you to the bed. “Get up there and spread that pretty pussy for me baby. Wanna see it.” You waste no time doing what he asks, climbing up the unusually tall bed and laying on your back. You don’t open your legs right away, shyness creeping in. You were almost fully exposed to Hugh, the only thing still covered being your boobs, while he was almost fully covered, only his shirt being off. “Don’t go all shy on me now baby.” He says, guiding your legs open, pussy on full display. “Fuck..look at you sweet girl, all wet for me.” His thumbs pull back each fold, exposing the pink that was partially hidden. He leans town and licks from your entrance to your clit. “Mhmm fuck.” You moan out at the feeling. His tongue felt hot against your warm center, beard tickling your skin as he moved. The sound encourages him to continue. He dives down again, tongue lapping around your needy clit. The constant pressure causes your body to jerk voluntarily. Hugh brings both of his hands to hold you down at your legs, tongue still abusing the small bud. Loud moans escape your mouth as his tongue trails down to your entrance sliding in. “Oh fuck me.” You moan out. “Your pussy taste so fucking good.” He mutters against your skin. His right hand moves from its position on your hip, his middle finger sliding down to your opening. He slowly slides it in, the small stretch feels too good. He starts moving it, hitting the spongy bundle of nerves over and over again. “Fuck baby, i’m gonna cum.” You warn him. His head dips back down, tongue returning to your clit and one suck is all it takes for you to come around his finger. You let out a string of moans and curses, Hugh never letting up until your climax is over. He does one more lap around your pussy with his tongue, cleaning everything up before moving up the bed next to you. 
“Been wanting to do that forever baby. Knew you’d have a perfect little pussy.” His words make you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. Even with your own orgasm washing the need out of your body, you were still turned on. The sight of your slick in Hugh’s beard and the very noticeable tent in Hugh’s jeans made it worse. You sit up and go to move. “Where are you going?” Hugh asks, sitting up on his forearms to look at you. You don't respond, instead you reach for the button of his jeans. “You don’t have to do that baby.” He assures you. “I want to.” It was the first coherent sentence you’ve been able to muster and it makes Hugh fall back into the bed. You pull his jeans and boxers off in one go, too impatient to wait. His cock springs free, red and angry. It was long, thin, and veiny- exactly as you imagined it being. It made your mouth water. He had a thick patch of pubic hair and it turned you on even more, you were such a whore for hairy men. 
You sat yourself between each of his thighs, running your hands up and down them. He’s watching you as you take your right hand, wrapping it around the base of him. He sucks in a breath. You're looking him in the eyes as you lean your head down, letting your tongue swirl in slow circles around his tip. “Fuck…” You take the tip slowly into your mouth, sucking on it while your tongue still circles. Your left hand replaces the right on his dick, right hand moving down to cup his balls. “Shit..” He hisses out. “Haven’t done this in a while baby, not gonna last long at all.” He confesses but men coming fast had always been something that excited you, so you got to work. Your head dipped lower, taking more of him in your mouth while hollowing your cheeks, creating a dangerous suction on him. Your pace was steady as he moaned. “Yea baby, just like that…mmm fuck.” He was a talker and you loved it. You took him out of your mouth, moving down to his balls instead. You sucked on them as your hands worked his shaft. He was breathing rapidly. “I’m gonna cum baby….ohh fuck baby don’t stop.” You immediately moved your mouth back to his tip, sucking every drop of cum from him, not letting any go to waste. You can feel his thighs clenching next to yours. When you're confident that he was done spewing, you swallow it down happily and smile up at him. 
“You’re a dream, you know that? So fucking perfect for me.” He sighs in content as you crawl up to lay on his chest. “You really believe that?” You ask. “I really believe it, y/n. Haven’t felt this way in a long time..” You didn’t want to ask him what that meant, he would tell you eventually. “You wanna stay here tonight?” You look around, seeing the time on the digital alarm clock he had on a bedside table. It read 11:30pm. “Yea, if that’s okay.” You didn’t want to inconvenience him, even if he’s the one who asked. “More than okay sweet girl.” 
The two of you took a quick shower together, the main goal was to get clean so you could hit the hay. Hugh strayed from that a little bit at the sight of your boobs, which he hadn’t seen fully during the fun you had earlier. He gave them small kisses, worshiping them as you washed your hair. He gave you a shirt to sleep in and you opted to go commando, not wanting to put your dirty underwear back on- Hugh didn’t complain about this. His own pajamas being his boxers and nothing else. The two of you laid in Hugh’s bed, you cuddled on his side running your fingers through the hair on his chest. A silence fell over the room, sleep creeping its way in.
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thank you for reading!
part six
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harryslittlefreakk · 6 months ago
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favourite crime
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summary: a chance meeting between y/n and her professor leads to a dare… which leads to a forbidden affair neither of them will forget
wordcount: 8k!!!! can you even believe it!!
warnings: smut (exhibitionism, foreplay) , inappropriate relationship (lol)
a/n: i love professorry & you guys voted for this one so i hope i’ve done him justice! this was going to be a one shot but i wrote so much more than i planned lol so it will be a mini series. please let me know if you enjoy <3
my masterlist and taglist can be found here 🥰
“I’ll give you £50 if you go over there.”
“Not a chance, Courtney. I’m not sacrificing my education for £50.”
“I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the year then.”
You wrapped your hands around your glass, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your eyes had been glued to the back of your professor’s head since he arrived, jitters coursing through your body. He’d stayed frozen at the bar the entire time, a neat whiskey in one hand and his nose deep in a book.
“He’s so fucking sexy,” you muttered, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you watched the way his tongue jutted out just slightly, wetting his finger so he could turn the page. “Alright, wish me luck,” you beamed at your friend, sliding out of the booth.
You wove through the crowd around the bar, making sure to stay out of Harry’s sight. Your voice was barely audible as you ordered two drinks, a spicy marg for you and a neat whiskey for him. Even the roar of music and chatter was dimmed as your heart pounded in your ears, still watching Harry like a hawk in case he was suddenly joined by a girlfriend.
The coast was clear when you got the drinks, the barstool next to him still invitingly empty. You turned back to your table, pulling a mock nervous grimace as you held the drinks up in the air. After a final check for anyone heading towards Harry, you decided to make your move.
“What would a handsome young man like you be doing here alone?” you teased, slipping into the seat next to Harry as you set down a new drink in front of him. His eyes lingered on his book for a second before looking over at you, an expectant smirk quickly replaced by a frown.
“Miss y/l/n,” was all he managed to say, his mouth drying up as he scanned your body, green eyes lingering just a second too long when they met your cleavage.
“Professor Styles,” you replied, tapping the rim of your glass against his. “Cheers.”
“It’s wildly inappropriate to buy your professor a drink,” he told you, voice stern but a small smile playing on his lips.
You turned away from him, craning your neck to look around the bar. His eyes followed yours, brows knitted when you eventually looked back at him with a satisfied grin. “Just checking. No university higher ups here, so you’re free to act inappropriately.”
“Thank you for the drink,” Harry smiled, folding over a corner of the page he was reading before reluctantly closing the book.
You snatched it from his grasp, a mocking gasp falling from your lips as you flicked through the tattered book. Almost every page was dog-eared, the spine broken and sellotaped back together, half the book bent out of shape from water damage. “You’re an English teacher. And you treat your books this way?”
He chuckled, stretching out an open hand to silently ask for his book back. You clutched it close to your chest, hands splayed across the book to protect it from his touch. “You can’t be trusted with it anymore.”
“This is so inappropriate,” Harry muttered, covering his smirk with a tanned hand as he shook his head. Every second you spent at his side felt like a step closer to unemployment, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn you away. After all, you were in a bar out of town, and the likelihood of anyone seeing you was low.
You grabbed a napkin while he mused, pulling him out of his thoughts when you shoved a hand into the pocket of his slacks. Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise as you pulled out a pen, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He couldn't help the rush of adrenaline he felt at your touch, sparks tingling where your fingers had brushed against his thigh, the silk lining of his pocket suddenly warm.
He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure as he leaned one elbow against the bar. "I think it's time you head back," he said, his husky voice tinged with a mix of amusement and apprehension. The tension between you was palpable, and he knew he needed to put some distance between you before things went too far.
You scribbled something on the napkin, folding it in half and slotting it into Harry’s book, taking time to lovingly smooth out the crease he had folded into it before handing it back to him.
“Nice seeing you, Professor,” you winked, downing the remainder of your cocktail and setting the glass down next to his book before making your way back over to your table.
Harry watched as you sauntered back, your hips swaying in time with the music. There was an air of danger about you that lingered just out of his reach, intrigue creeping through his bones. He’d noticed your natural charm from the day you joined his class, the way you were a friend to everyone who gave you as much as a glance, and an enemy only to the girls who cared more for their looks than their popularity. You’d always submitted good papers, asked important questions, and listened when he asked you to stop your incessant chatting to the people around you. But he’d never noticed this side of you, and now that he had, he didn’t think he could go without it.
With a final glance over in your direction, Harry finished his whiskey and stalked out of the bar, desperate to cool off before he got carried away with the idea of you.
By the time you looked over at him, he was gone, and your friend was interrogating you about what had happened.
“Nothing,” you mumbled, drawing on your greatest acting skills to feign a pout.
“I don’t buy that for a second,” Courtney poked, grinning excitedly as your frown morphed into a smirk.
“You can’t tell anyone, I mean it.”
“Swear on my life.”
“I gave him my number,” you grinned, unable to keep your cool for even a minute.
Courtney gasped, banging her hand down on the table. “You didn’t!”
“I did. But I don’t think he’ll use it,” you laughed, silently hoping that he would.
You’d checked your phone the entire way home, waiting for a text that might never come. But the second you climbed into bed, reluctantly accepting your love affair had died a premature death, your phone let out the most glorious little ding it ever would.
unknown number: did you get home safe?
You thrashed around the bed for a second, jaw snapping so low it could have smacked against the floor. You read and reread the message, eyes wandering over every letter.
y/n: safe and alone if that’s what you’re asking
You watched as the little white dots appeared and disappeared, over and over again, until they finally vanished for good.
But you’d already taken it further than you’d ever planned to, so you added Harry’s number to your contacts, and called him.
He answered after a few rings, his voice low and husky when he finally spoke. “You shouldn’t be calling me.”
“And you shouldn’t be answering,” you teased, giddy at the realisation that you were now having a late night phone call with the hottest man on the planet.
“How else am I going to tell you how inappropriate this is?” Harry sighed, though you could hear the reluctant amusement lacing his words.
You rolled onto your front, grinning at your phone like a love drunk teenager. “You can tell me to back off if you really want,” you offered, fingers crossing in a desperate plea for him to do the exact opposite.
He stayed silent for a minute, the cogs almost audible as he weighed up the pros and cons. “It’s already gone this far,” he murmured eventually. “Thank you, by the way. For the drink and the bookmark.”
You bit down on your lip in a desperate attempt to control your grin from splitting your face clean in half. “That’s two gifts from me now, what do I get from you?”
“You get to keep your education and not be reported to every higher up there is,” Harry laughed.
“And what else?” With every word you felt like you were falling deeper into cuckoo land. It was so out of character for you, never the one to blindly make your move on a man. And not just a man, the professor you’d harboured a juvenile crush on for the entire academic year.
“Nothing else. You’re bad news,” Harry replied. You pictured him sitting with his phone in hand, a stern frown and warm smirk juxtaposed on his chiseled face.
“Am I really?”
“Definitely.” Even the sound of his voice had you weak at the knees. You’d never make it through tomorrow’s lecture, melted to a puddle in your seat within five minutes.
“Maybe you should delete this number then.”
“Bold of you to assume I’ve saved it,” Harry replied, his turn to tease now.
“Well then what are you worried about? There’s no evidence of your crime,” you mocked.
“Don’t call it a crime.”
“Can I at least be your favourite crime?”
Harry sighed again, a real exasperated sigh this time. Your grin fell as he stumbled over what to say, the potential repercussions of your chase suddenly weighing heavy on you both. “Look, I’ll be honest with you here y/n, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Harry confessed, his voice soft as he spoke.
“Can we not just worry about it later?” It was a plead you hoped the both of you would take notice of.
“Not when my career hangs in the balance.” He went quiet again, only shallow breaths and the drumming of his fingers audible from the other end of the line. “Meet me in my office at the end of the day tomorrow,” he finally muttered. “And not a word of this to anyone.”
“Goodnight, professor,” you smiled, heart pounding so violently you feared it could burst through your chest as you ended the call.
Either he wasn’t done with you yet, or he was really done. And if the tone of his voice and the reluctance that laced it gave you any clues, you had your money (and hopes) on the former.
You spent the whole morning in a daze, pulling your phone out every few minutes to check your message history in case you’d made the whole thing up. It felt like a bizarre fever dream, an alternate reality you’d stumbled into. Every time you saw the read the text from Harry your heart skipped a beat, doing nothing to calm you. Whatever he wanted to see you for was eating away at you, your fate resting in his hands. You didn’t even notice the campus barista calling your name, over and over again as your head and your heart argued loudly in your mind.
When you finally snapped back to reality, grabbing your coffee with a stream of apologies tumbling from your lips, you saw Harry watching you, an amused smirk curling the corners of his mouth.
You winked at him as you left the cafe, unnoticeable to anyone but him, but just enough to make him uncomfortable.
“He looks good today,” Courtney mused, pushing open the lecture hall door and leading you towards the nearest empty seats. They were too near the front for your liking, especially today, but at least Harry couldn’t miss you.
“How do I look?” you asked Courtney, glancing down at your outfit. You’d tried to be cute, in case that swayed him towards fulfilling your dirtiest desires, but not too over the top. You weren’t going to force him into bed if that isn’t where he wanted to end up with you.
“Like the little slut you are,” she teased, grinning as you rolled your eyes.
“He told me to go to his office at the end of the day. What if I get there and he’s sitting with the head waiting to grass me up?”
“Then you can blame me,” Courtney smiled, always ready to shoulder your academic and personal failures.
“What if he’s not?”
“Then you can thank me.”
You rested your chin in your hands, eyes glued to the head of whoever was sat in front of you as you grumbled and groaned. You were too busy freaking out to notice Harry coming in, his eyes continually flicking to you as he set up the projector.
“I really want him,” you groaned, just loud enough for the words to reach Harry’s ear, a tiny blush creeping up his cheeks as he read your lips.
“Silence, please,” he called out, eyes still locked on yours with his lips curled into a barely noticeable smirk.
He kept his eyes trained on you the entire class, not even attempting to look away whenever you caught him staring. If you were crazy, you’d notice that he’d paid a little more attention to his appearance that day. His brown curls were pushed back with a little gel, his ringed fingers falling to his side every time he reached up to brush a hand through his hair. He’d ditched the v-neck sweater for a crisp white shirt, hints of tattoos you didn’t know he had poking through the material.
-
You didn’t even notice it was the end of the day until your subconscious carried you out of the crowd of students heading for the exit, and you found yourself knocking on Harry’s door.
He called you in, straightening up as you pushed open the door and looked around expectantly. The university higher ups weren’t there to escort you off campus immediately, and you felt a little weight fall off your shoulders.
His office was quaint, littered with books and notes. Harry sat behind a tower of papers, an old fashioned table lamp illuminating his desk in warm orange hues. He waited for you to sit down in front of him, grinning as he handed you an uncapped pen. “I thought you could help me with some marking since you’re so desperate to harass me outside of lessons,” he smirked, nodding to the stack of papers.
“Any excuse to spend time with me,” you muttered, grinning as you dropped your bag down next to you. Harry handed half of his pile to you, and you work silently for a while, your mind running a million miles an hour. He hadn’t shut you down, hadn’t made any effort to tell you to stop. And he found a way for you to spend more one on one time together.
Harry cleared his throat suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Need to ask you something,” he murmured, setting his pen down on top of the paper he was working on.
You looked up at him silently, brows knitted and pouted lips falling open as you waited for him to continue. He was shifty, eyes squinted as if he didn’t want the words to come out. “You’re not trying to get something, are you?” he paused, tensing up in his seat. “Like… I don’t know. ‘Let me get some dirt so i can blackmail my professor for good grades.’”
His mouth hung open as he waited for you to reply, watching you go from confusion, to anger, to hurt in the time it took you to comprehend what he said.
You rubbed a hand over your face, trying to maintain your composure as you took in the weight of his words. “If that’s what you think then-”
You stood up, pulling your bag onto your shoulder. Harry jumped to his feet, circling around his desk as he read the hurt in your eyes. “It’s not, I have to ask-”
He reached out, grabbing a hold of your sleeve as you turned to walk away. Part of your brain willed you to stay, to not cause a scene and show him the immaturity that came with being tangled up with a younger woman. But you couldn’t stay there, not with him and his absurd view of you.
You pulled out of his grip, shrugging your sleeve back into place. “That’s not who I am,” you murmured, heading for the door as quickly as your shaky legs would take you. You left Harry standing there dumbfounded, face screwed up as you tried to make sense of him.
-
“Come on, please. Just one little boogie,” you pleaded with Courtney, already rifling through her wardrobe for something to wear. You’d promised each other to slow down with the nights out this year, try and use your evenings for important things like studying, or swiping through each other’s Tinders. But you were still a little pissed off, just enough that you required a best friend boogie to shake it off.
“Fine.” Courtney rolled her eyes, dragging her body off the bed to get changed.
The bar was busy when you got there, as noisy and as crowded as it was on the weekends. You groaned as you sunk into your seat at a corner booth, too irritated to deal with handsy men and having to shout about your problems over loud music.
unknown number: are you home?
Your phone lit up as you pulled it out your bag, a scowl taking over your features as your eyes gazed over the words.
unknown number: ?
“Who’s that?” Courtney asked, searching your frown for answers as you turned your phone face down on the table.
“Who do you think?”
“What the hell happened in his office?”
“Nothing, seriously nothing. He asked me if I’m trying to get dirt on him. So I can get better fucking grades.”
“It’s a valid question,” Courtney shrugged.
You groaned, holding your head in your hands. “I know it is. I’m just offended that he thinks I’m that kind of girl,” you explained.
“I’m sure he doesn’t. But if anything were to happen, there’s more for him to lose.”
“Well I don’t think I’d be finishing my education anywhere near here if it ever got out.”
“No, you’d be the town whore. Young women would come from all over the world, desperately seeking advice from their hero. Professors would fear even looking you in the eye,” Courtney teased, well prepared for your dramatics.
“You’re making me regret it before it’s even begun.”
“Stop pursuing him then.”
“You’re the one who dared me in the first place!”
Courtney patted your arm fondly, swilling the last of her drink around the walls of the glass. “While you’re brilliant company, I’d rather have a full glass while I talk to you. Same again?”
You picked up your phone hesitantly, as if it would detect your fear and automatically message Harry. He was too confusing, messing with your head already despite having spent less than an hour with him. You didn’t want messy, but somehow you needed him.
You threw your head in your hands, groaning as you peeled through your fingers. Courtney was taking too long, and naturally your eyes found her twirling her hair and grinning in the direction of the man with his arm around her waist.
He was cute, the exact kind of beachy blonde man you knew would leave Courtney in love after five minutes. She turned to look back at you with wide eyes, her excitement palpable even through the crowds between you.
You gave her a thumbs up, smile only faltering when you spotted a familiar face behind Courtney, the same brown curls that seemed to haunt your every move. Harry looked up from his phone at just the right moment to catch you staring. Busted. His warm gaze met your frosty glare, his cheeks tinged pink as his eyes focused on you.
You couldn’t exactly continue to ignore his texts now, especially with your phone quite clearly placed in front of you, so you broke eye contact, glancing down to type out a text to Harry.
y/n: no, busy riding the university head at the minute. thought i’d do go for the big dog 🤷🏻‍♀️
unknown number: come outside .
You watched as Harry slipped out of his booth, stalking towards the entrance. And like a little lap dog, you followed, eager to know what he had to say.
You slipped an arm around Courtney’s waist as you passed her, whispering in her ear about getting some fresh air. She nodded, but her eyes were glazed over, too deeply interested in this man to really hear what you said.
Harry was leaning against the wall outside when you reached him, head turned upwards towards the late evening skies. You stood next to him, back pressed against the brick with your eyes resting on him. Scanning over his features like it was the first and last time you’d ever see his face. The little mark of his glasses on the bridge of his nose, curls in tatters after a full day of running his hands through them every five minutes. He was attractive from the second you first set eyes on him, but most of his pull was in his personality. You didn’t know much of him, but what you did know was charming. He always told a stupid dad joke at the start of class to draw everyone in, his feedback was always positive even on the worst essays. No one ever felt stupid or less than around Harry, he made that his mission. And yet somehow now you felt like the most ridiculous little girl, chasing after someone she can’t have just for any benefits it might bring.
Harry had turned to face you at some point during your musing, silently watching your features soften and then change, moulding into different emotions as the cogs turned in your mind.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he started, shifting his body slightly as you looked back out onto the street.
“Then you shouldn’t have asked an offensive question.”
You knew you were showing your age, only aiding his perception of you, but you couldn’t help acting petty for a minute. You weren’t the adult in this situation, not the one who needed to be mature.
“I’m sorry. I just needed to know your intentions before-”
“You had every right to ask.”
Harry frowned, mouth opening in preparation to disagree with you before your rambling cut him off.
“No, you did. A lot more is at stake for you, I should’ve thought about that before I- I didn’t think you’d accept the drink, but you did, so I pushed, I was-”
“Testing the boundaries,” Harry finished for you.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t think we’ve hit them yet,” Harry mumbled, pulling his gaze away from you. You kept making him shy, painting an uncomfortable blush upon his skin, trailing goosebumps down his back. He was supposed to have the power here, yet he felt completely surrendered to you.
“Do you still want me to help you with marking?”
“If you want to. Was actually really helpful for me today.”
Your phone started buzzing in your hand, a stream of texts flashing up on the screen. “Courtney says she wants to go home with her new boyfriend, he has a roommate who can ‘have’ me,” you told Harry, face screwing up as you read the last words.
“That sounds nice,” he chuckled dryly, glancing down at his watch.
“Sounds horrific, no thank you. Haven’t even had my boogie yet,” you groaned, quickly tapping a similar yet softer message to Courtney.
Harry turned on his heel, stalking back towards the entrance of the bar as you dawdled behind him, eyes still glued to your phone screen.
“Where are we going?” you asked, following him to his table. Courtney was leaned against it, the new drink she’d meant to bring you long forgotten next to her. Her new lover was attached to her like a conjoined twin, his lips hitting places you’d dreamed of finding Harry’s. “Your table’s been taken over,” you mumbled, watching as Harry interrupted the snogging session with a firm tap on the back of the beachy blonde’s head.
“Y/n, Josh. Josh, y/n,” Harry beamed, inwardly cringing at having to explain his connection to you and Courtney.
You shot her a puzzled look, mouth hanging open as you looked between the three of them standing across from you. Courtney’s face mirrored yours, smile morphing into a smug smirk as she realised. “He’s your roommate?” she asked Josh, thumb pointing towards Harry.
“Yeah. How do you-?”
“Story for another time mate,” Harry laughed, patting down his pockets to check he had everything before leading you out of the bar.
“Did you plan this?” you laughed, cocking your head in mock suspicion. Josh and Courtney had disappeared into his bedroom before you’d even taken your shoes off, leaving you and Harry alone for the evening. In his house.
It was cute, a tiny but spacious two bed. He had books littering every surface, all as tattered and worn as the one he’d been reading in the bar. And the shut of him fixing you some dinner, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder… it was a good job you were propped up against the breakfast bar for how weak your legs had become.
Harry held his hands up in defence, turning round to look at you. “I swear on my life, no. I invited Josh out for one, he went to get our drinks and they must’ve bumped into each other at the bar.”
“Why did you go back to the same bar?”
“Why did you?” Harry countered, the pasta water bubbling dangerously high as he abandoned the jumble of pots and pans on the hob, leaning on the countertop in front of you.
“I asked you first,” you smirked, reaching out to swat at his face. He caught your wrist in one quick movement, pinning your hand down between you both.
“I’m older.” Harry cocked his head to the side, a playful curl tugging at the corners of his mouth. There was something soft about him, an air of domesticity that you dreamed about in a man but rarely saw.
You wrapped your fingers around his, pushing your hand against his until they sat just between your faces. “How old are you?”
“I am… old enough to be your teacher,” Harry grinned, pulling his eyes from your face to frown at your hands. “Are you seriously trying to arm wrestle me?”
You felt his arm tense up, his grip on your hand tightening as he slammed your hand back down on the countertop, a laugh rising out of him. “Seriously,” you frowned, making no attempt to loosen your grip on him as he rounded the breakfast bar, stopping when his face was only inches from yours.
The food was long forgotten, the pasta water sizzling as it overflowed onto the hob. Neither of you noticed, too enthralled by your proximity and the crackle of tension in the air.
“Thirty four,” Harry replied finally, his breath tickling your skin.
It didn’t matter anymore. He could’ve been fifty, seventy even and it wouldn’t even reach your ears. You couldn’t think with him this close to you, couldn’t force your brain to do the mental maths when the scent of his last coffee of the day lingered on his breath, the woody notes of his aftershave clinging to his shirt, deep grey ink drawn onto the inches of exposed tan skin.
“Dinners ruined,” Harry murmured, nodding his head back towards the hob, eyes still glued to yours.
“I’m not hungry,” you whispered, breath hitching as Harry moved closer. He cupped your jaw, running his thumb along your lower lip. And then he was moving around the corner, stepping into you as you opened your legs to let him closer. Your heart was hammering in your chest, eyes wide as you stared up at him.
Harry’s lips had barely met yours before the smoke alarm set off, barely given you a taste of him before he was across the kitchen, stabbing at the smoke detector with pain etched into his features.
Your eyes met when the wailing finally stopped, his frustration turning to amusement as he looked up towards the ceiling. “Maybe that was a sign,” he smirked.
You rested your head in your palm, brows knitted as you watched him lean against the sink, too far away from you. “Maybe we should follow the universes rules,” you whispered. “So you shouldn’t cross this,” you pointed to the breakfast bar.
“What if I need to get to that side of the room?” Harry countered, throwing his head back on his shoulders.
“You can ask me to pass you something.” But he was already moving closer, already rounding the countertop. And then his lips were on yours again, your makeshift barricade already forgotten. He was stronger this time, his tongue faster as it wrestled against yours, the sweet nectar of his mouth like honey as he kissed deeper into you.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, pulling away for a second to catch your breath.
“No, we shouldn’t,” Harry echoed, pressing fervent pecks to your swollen pout.
“It’s really bad.” The words were tumbling out like a reminder to you both, your brains final plea for some display of sanity before it went too far.
Harry’s hands were wandering over your body, his eyes locked on yours as his mouth trailed down your neck. “I fear the line is too far behind us now,” he murmured, husky voice muffled against your throat. You were sure he could feel your heart working overtime to try and calm itself down, thumping against the walls of your ribs as if it were about to break free.
“I can’t see it”, you mumbled, tangling a hand in his hair. You were panting, your mouth gaping open as Harry’s fingertips clawed and kneaded at your doughy hips, his other hand cupping the nape of your neck. His mouth was magic, his tongue grazing over the spots his teeth would nip as he moved further down your body. It was as if he’d been starved for years, your skin his lifeblood, the food he so desperately craved.
But footsteps at the top of the stairs broke your spell, you and Harry forced to tear yourselves away from each other like repelling magnets. You could see the regret in his eyes, the hesitance of his touch as it left your body. He stumbled across the room to the sofa, throwing himself down as if physically pained to be out of your reach. You forced a smile onto your mouth, straightening out your skirt as Courtney rounded the corner into the living room.
“Nice night?” you smirked.
“I was just explaining to Josh that we’re being responsible now. Which means no sleepovers with boys you meet in bars, especially when you have classes the next day,” Courtney shrugged, putting on her best puppy dog eyes for you.
“I’m not your mum,” you laughed, turning to face her properly. “If you want to stay then stay.”
Courtney’s eyes flicked to Harry, as if waiting for him to tell her to leave. “Stay,” he told her, raising his eyebrows suggestively to Josh. “Even if it’s a bit weird,” he mumbled, low enough for only you to hear.
“Text me!” you called after Courtney, though her and Josh were already running back up the stairs for round god-knows-what.
“You can stay too if you like,” Harry told you, settling back into the sofa cushions.
“Mmm, maybe not. One boundary crossed in a day is enough, no?” you shrugged, busying yourself by fiddling with a loose thread on your tights.
“Who said anything about crossing boundaries?” Harry smirked. He passed your jumper to you when you rolled your eyes, grabbing his keys from the side table as he stood up.
-
The air was tense when you got in the car, only speaking to direct Harry to your flat. His fingers danced along your thigh at every red light, his eyes lingering on you every time he glanced to the left.
“It’s just here,” you murmured, gesturing to the building ahead of you. You didn’t know why you kept talking yourself out of something you so clearly wanted, something that came to you both so naturally. It was right with a hint of wrong, wrong with a little right. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of his lips on yours, the taste of something you so desperately craved.
Harry pulled into your driveway, questions written all over his face. You looked at him wordlessly, setting your hand on top of his.
“Do you trust Courtney?” he asked, rubbing his temple with his free hand.
“With my life.” It wasn’t Courtney finding out that bothered you, and he knew that. If you were sloppy, anyone could see you together and realise what was going on. Or worse, other students could find out and use it against him in the very way he’d accused you of. Or worse still, you could be only one of many students he did this with.
“Then as long as we’re careful, there doesn’t have to be consequences,” Harry murmured, somehow knowing exactly how to dispel all of your worries. “Unless you’d rather leave it where it is. No harm, no foul,” he offered, squinting slightly as he tried to gage your reaction. He so desperately didn’t want to leave it, to put it aside as a twenty-four hour romance, never to be spoken of again. But it was clear that neither of you wanted to suffer the consequences.
“I don’t know if I can just close that door,” you sighed, the thrill too addictive to put aside. “Keep an eye on Courtney for me, please,” you whispered, slipping out of the car before you could manage to confuse yourself further.
He stayed outside until you get in the door, a small smile playing on his lips. You hadn’t wanted to leave it, and you weren’t trying to get something out of him. It was still dangerous, still as threatening to both of your lives, but you were both in it.
You’d barely met Harry’s eye for the entire class, willing yourself to forget he was that hot before your foolish desires turned into something unforgivable. Even still, your legs had carried you to his office at the end of the day with urgency. The warm glow of his lamp was too familiar, the woody aftershave you could smell from outside the door too inviting. You stepped into his office silently, pushing the door closed behind you.
“Hi,” Harry smiled from behind a stack of papers. He watched as you pulled out the chair in front of his desk, dropping into it with a content grin. “I had a very fun chat with Josh this morning.”
“I bet. What did he say?”
Harry halved the papers in front of him, placing the smaller pile in front of you. His fingertips brushed against your hand as you reached for the top one, lightning bolts streaking through your skin from the point of contact.
“That I’m a creep. And someone should’ve told him yesterday,” Harry grinned, reluctantly moving his hand away from yours.
“Did Courtney not say anything?” you laughed, screwing your face up as you imagined that conversation. Harry shrugged, running a hand through his tousled hair.
“I can’t believe she’s stayed at your house,” you cringed, nose wrinkling as you thought about it. It was enough of a boundary crossed to stay there if you were sleeping with him, but to have your professor know you’d been having sex under his roof… eurgh.
“You could’ve stayed too,” Harry murmured, shifting his marked papers to the empty space beside him.
“You know I couldn’t, Harry.”
“Remind me of your reasons.”
You turned the name plate on his desk round to face him, pointing at the word ‘professor’ with raised eyebrows.
“That didn’t stop you kissing me.”
“It was an act of charity!” you protested. “How can you turn down an old, lonely man who keeps trying to kiss you?”
Harry chuckled, leaning his forearms on the desk. “I’m old and lonely now?”
You nodded, a tiny smirk emerging as you chewed on the end of your pen. The more you got to see the playful side of Harry, the more you needed him. He seemed to have just the right dose of everything you wanted, your perfect man right in front of you and yet just out of reach.
“If that’s what it takes to kiss you, I’ll gladly be the oldest and loneliest man in the world,” he mewled, eyes sparkling as he leaned closer, his grin only centimetres away from you.
But then came a knock at the door, leaving you both springing away from each other once again. Harry cleared his throat as he walked over, straightening himself out as he tried to come up with a million plausible reasons why you would be in his office.
You craned your neck to see who had chosen to interrupt that moment. It another student from your class, asking about the assignment he’d set that day. You’d never spoken to her much, and from the way she was flicking her hair at Harry, you probably wouldn’t push for a friendship. Something lit up inside of you when you watched how professional and curt he was with her, a far cry from how he’d ever acted around you.
He got rid of her fairly quickly, wishing her a good weekend. Harry slammed the door behind him, giving it a second before walking back towards you. He stopped in front of your chair, crouching down just centimetres away from your face.
“I have a proposition. I think my house will be occupied this weekend, and it doesn’t seem like luck is on our side here. Why don’t we go somewhere? Out of the city obviously. If you’d like,” he was blushing slightly as he spoke, his fingers anxiously tapping on the armrests of your chair.
“That would be nice,” you smiled, the fire inside of you only growing warmer at the thought of spending proper alone time with Harry.
He leaned forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to your lips before flashing you a grin. “Sorry. Just had to do that once,” he mumbled.
You watched as Harry circled around his desk, hips swaying in mock seduction when he felt your eyes on him. “Did you ever notice me before?” you asked, curiosity lacing your words.
“Of course I did.”
“No, like, notice me, notice me,” you were gesturing wildly, hoping he’d catch on to your insinuation. Asking a man if he ever fancied you was embarrassing even for you, never mind if you had to physically spell it out for them.
“I never thought about you that way, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re my student, it never crossed my mind,” Harry told you, placing his glasses at the of his nose as he resumed grading.
“But now?”
He paused for a moment, gaze dripping with lust as it dragged over your face. “Now… I am beginning to think about you that way.”
‘Beginning’ was good enough for you. You leaned back in your chair, lips curling into a satisfied smile as you fiddled with the pen cap, anticipation coursing through your veins.
“You realise you’re supposed to be helping me? You’ve only graded about four papers,” Harry teased, head nodding towards his towering ‘finished’ pile.
You thumbed through your pile, counting under your breath as Harry watched with an amused smirk. “Five, actually,” you shot back.
Harry’s only response was to raise his eyebrows, arms folded across his chest as he leaned back in the seat. “You shouldn’t be rushing me anyway. The longer I take to grade, the more time you spend with me,” you grinned.
Harry stood up again, circling around the desk to tug your chair - with you still in it - next to his. You looked over at him as he sat back down, his eyebrow raised as an amused giggle bubbled out of you. “You’re clearly distracted by looking at me,” he shrugged, grinning as you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop the laughing fit.
“Now I’m more distracted by my proximity to you,” you grumbled, tearing your eyes away from Harry to stare back at the paper. That lasted all of 5 seconds before you were turning to face Harry again, knocking your pen against his shoulder to get his attention back on you. “Since you never replied, do you not want me to take forever, so you get to spend all that time with me?”
“Do you think I’m ever going to run out of papers?”
“You could always stop setting assignments,” you shrugged.
Harry swatted at the tip of your nose, his eyes bright behind his tortoise shell glasses. “You are just full of suggestions that all end in me being unemployed.”
“You chose this career,” you murmured, voice faltering as Harry placed a finger under your chin, pulling you up to face him properly. “I wouldn’t mind if you took forever,” he smiled, his eyes dark as they landed on your mouth.
Harry’s thumb was running across your bottom lip, swiping a tiny bead of spit over it until the rosebud skin was reflecting the glow of the lights. Your heart was hammering in your throat, almost willing someone to catch you in such an innocent yet inexplicable position. You stayed frozen for a few minutes, eyes caressing every shape on the other’s face, until Harry sucked in a deep breath, springing to his feet. “Let’s go,” he grunted. “Walk over to the bus stop and meet me there.”
-
“Are you kidnapping me?” you laughed as you slipped into the passenger seat.
“Damn. You got me,” Harry grinned, his smile not quite hiding the frustration in his eyes, his eyebrows knitted as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Couldn’t take one more second in that fucking office,” he groaned, tires squealing as he sped away from the bus stop.
He was a man on a mission as he raced across town, desperate to put as much distance as he could between you and the university. You stayed silent, the anticipation threatening to burst out of you if you dared open your mouth.
You couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment as he pulled up in a secluded car park, any signs of life obscured by overgrown bushes and trees. You so desperately wished for Harry to take you home, to do the things that you’d dreamed about.
He lead you over to a bench just behind the trees, wildflowers and unkept grass tickling at your bare legs as you set next to him. He was still silent, brows still knitted in frustration as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, flicking open the lid and holding it out to you. You took one, eyes flitting between the box and Harry’s face as he watched you.
“Only when I’m stressed,” Harry murmured, answering your puzzled look. You handed the lighter back to him, turning to face him fully as you exhaled the first drag. “And you’re stressed why?” you asked, watching the frustrations fall from his face as a wisp of smoke trailed over the pair of you.
“Because you’re dangerous,” he smirked, watching the ash fall as he tapped the cigarette. The remnants of chipped nail varnish on his fingertips, the prominent veins in his strong hand. You never thought watching someone smoke could turn you on, but the growing wet patch in your panties was proof that there wasn’t a thing Harry could do that wasn’t overwhelmingly sexy.
“How?”
Harry turned his attention back to you after a beat, resting an arm behind you on the bench. “Because you look at me like that,” he groaned, his voice husky as he spoke. “You sit there with something so filthy yet innocent in your eyes, making me want you when we both know you’re out of reach.”
He dropped his cigarette at his feet, stumping it out as you took a final drag of yours before mimicking him. “I’m not out of reach,” you whispered, reaching up to push a curl from Harry’s face.
“I can’t have you,” Harry murmured, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling until you were straddling his thighs. His hands found your hips as you settled on top of his bulge, the cotton of his trousers melding to the slick coating your panties. You wrapped your arms around his neck, relaxing into his touch.
“You already do.” You knew what Harry was saying. You just couldn’t bother caring any longer about who might see you, or what would happen when you’d given him your all and yet couldn’t take it any further. He was exactly the kind of person you shouldn’t get involved with, and if you were a better person, you would have paid attention to that rather than finding yourself perched atop his thighs, leaning into his mouth as he pressed urgent kisses to your neck.
His fingers traced a question along the neckline of your jumper, his green eyes pleading with yours to let him uncover more of you. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t function for a second longer unless Harry released some of the energy built up inside of you. All you could do was grab a hold of the curls at the nape of his neck and hope what Harry saw in your eyes was permission.
He wasted no time in yanking down the top of your jumper, taking your bra with it until your nipple was exposed, inches from his lips. You ground down on his hips as he took you into his mouth, breathy moans clawing their way out of your throat as his tongue swirled around the pink bud. His hand was squeezing as he suckled, the perfect blend of hard and soft. Your whole body was electric, lightning bolts sending shudders through your system from where he touched you.
Harry’s lips popped off your nipple, his fingers still groping and massaging the exposed skin of your breast. He kissed his way back up to your jawline, his free hand slipping under your skirt. “Gonna do so much to this body when I have the time,” he murmured against your lips, pushing his hips up against yours. The moan that slipped past your parted lips was animalistic, your fingertips clawing for a hold on Harry’s crumpled collar.
You let his forehead push against your cheek, putty in his hands to be molded to whatever he needed you to be. His lips met yours with pure desire, your whole body limp as you succumbed to him. His lips, his touch, his cock throbbing under your core, it was too much to bear. The evening breeze that trailed over your exposed skin barely made a dent in cooling you down, did nothing to alert you to where you were or who you were with.
You reached down, leaning back until your shaking hands met the cool metal of Harry’s belt buckle. His hips bucked, nudging his clothed tip closer to your core, drawing a deep moan out of him when your fingertips brushed over his length. “Not here, princess,” he groaned, sinking his teeth into your swollen bottom lip.
You wanted to touch him, to make him feel as needed as he did to you, to feel the burn as his cock broke through your walls. The disappointment that throbbed through your core was short-lived though as his fingers moved to your entrance, plucking your panties to the side as your slick coated his lap. You were soaked through, ready for him in a way that you’d definitely be embarrassed by later. His fingertips had barely grazed you, yet you were writhing and panting as if you’d never been touched before.
You dipped your head onto Harry’s shoulder, reluctantly pulling your hands away from his hips as he presses his thumb against your clit. Your gasp was quietened by your lips pressing into his collar, your teeth tugging against the material as he rubbed slow circles over your sweet spot.
You barely managed to croak out a plea for more, your voice failing you as every muscle in your body contracted, your walls begging for Harry to touch you deeper.
He answered with a groan, shifting you in his lap until two fingers sunk into you, piercing through the tension in your core. You were rocking against his hand, lips ghosting along his jawline as you chased the high you were already so close to. Every buck of your hips pressed your clit into his palm, the contact making your hair stand on end. He was electric, his fingers fucking into you with a power that almost had you fearing what he could do in bed.
You were burning, your heart pounding in your ears. It was too loud, the sound of your slick, your moans and Harry’s breathless pants mixing together in a filthy symphony spurring you closer to your release. You wanted more of him, for him to fuck you in every way possible, but it was overwhelming. You couldn’t focus, pleasure rolling through your body in waves as his mouth found your nipple again, the added sensation pushing you over the edge. You were too weak too hold on, too close to do anything other than succumb to your high, tensing in his hold as you cried out his name.
It echoed around your mind, your eyes screwed shut as he rode you through it, your inner walls clamping down on his fingers. Your thighs were still trembling as he pulled his hand from your core and pushed his fingertips past his lips, sucking every bit of your come from them.
You were frozen, staring at Harry through heavy eyes with the ghost of a smile curling the corners of your mouth. You felt lifeless, trapped inside a body that didn’t feel like yours, even as he tucked your exposed breast back into your jumper and pulled you into his chest. You’d given him everything you had, and you’d happily stay on that bench in your blissful bubble for the rest of your life.
“Should get you home,” Harry murmured, his voice as he pressed a kiss into your hair. You hugged him tighter, unable to get up and walk away even if you wanted to.
eee guys what did you think ?! this was a bit choppy and weirdly written but 🤪 it will all come together in the next part
taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever @stylesbrock @harry-nialllover @fanfic-whore
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yelenasbraid · 1 month ago
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the view between villages — joe burrow
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mini series summary — it’s been years since you’ve seen your high school & college best friend, joe burrow. you went to high school together, went to ohio state together, but separated when joe transferred. distance wasn’t kind to you, and the total difference in careers stretched you further apart. when you reunite with him unexpectedly, you’re not sure you have an explanation. you’re not sure if he’ll take your explanation. little do you know he’s been ready and he’s been willing.
warnings — fem!reader, best friends to strangers to lovers, whole lotta angst, fluff, language, eventual smut
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playlist (so far):
strange by celeste
cardigan by taylor swift
the view between villages by noah kahan
you’re gonna go far by noah kahan
ceilings by lizzy mcalpine
please don’t go home yet by stephen sanchez
style by taylor swift
the roads by jonah kagen
something to remember by matt hansen
delicate by taylor swift
little preview of part one 🤭
he took out his phone, an idea popping into his head. it’s been a while, he knew that, but he’d try it. he typed in your name into his text messages, and found you. your contact still had you making a stupid face as the contact image. he smiled, remembering how you found yourself in that predicament. he would never delete your conversations, even if it’s been years since you’ve seen or talked to each other. he couldn’t let go of you, even if all he had were the text messages sent years ago. he opened the messages and typed a message.
you felt your phone buzz as you situated your sister in the passenger seat of the car. you looked at it, seeing a text from none other than joe burrow himself.
‘does this number still work?’
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hey hey! this is my first ever mini series and i’m so excited for it! there’s a lot still up in the air, but for the most part i know what’s happening lol. if you ever want to give me ideas PLS DO! i love any and all ideas. i hope you guys are as excited for this as i am! hehe i’ll post it when i post it 🤫
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yooniivrse · 3 months ago
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subtle changes | myg
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summary. your carefully structured mornings takes a heartwarming turn when yoongi becomes a welcome part of your days, leaving you unexpectedly craving more.
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pairing: yoongi x f!reader
word count: 3.9k
warnings: none :3 (i think, plz tell me if i missed something)
a/n: the end of summer hit me like a truck, which is why this took super long 😭 i'll try my best and have an update schedule to keep me on track, but no promises! idk how i feel about this chapter but you guys have been waiting for too long lol. i hope you enjoy <333
!!! this is the second part of a mini-series. you can read this as a stand alone, but things make more sense if you read the first part !!!
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< prev • next > | series masterlist | main masterlist
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You were very fond of routines.
You liked knowing what would happen next; liked being able to go into auto pilot as your body steered you through the morning, liked leaving it up to your routine to anchor you back to reality whenever life took a toll on you.
Usually, you hated change. You hated its unpredictability; hated the way it slapped at you abruptly like a whip, hated the queasy feeling that bubbled in your stomach whenever it occurred.
But the change that snaked into your strict routine was welcomed with warm, open arms. He slotted into your mornings and evenings with ease, like a jigsaw piece that fits perfectly into the space in a puzzle. A puzzle that happens to be your life.
Yoongi was the first person you greeted every morning before leaving for work or classes. He left his home at the same time as you—something you only noticed in the last fortnight—and would wave at you from his door. You returned the gesture with a bright smile, one that was starting to feel almost too natural.
He waited for you every day without fail, with hands shoved deep into his pockets as he leaned against the wall. When you finally managed to reach his door, he would make small talk with you as you descended the elevator.
You’ve always hated the awkwardness that lingered with small talk but those feelings dissipated when it came to Yoongi. He always listened attentively when talked, chuckling whenever you complained about the lady living opposite you as he agreed. It made you feel comfortable about rambling on about whatever it was that swam through your mind, leaving no space for awkwardness to bubble.
Today, your topic of conversation was the music he claimed to make.
“At this point, I’m starting to think you’re a fraud,” you said.
You both stood outside the elevator of your apartment complex. Yoongi leaned in front of you to press the bottom button, and a ring of red light awoke along the sides of it.
Yoongi’s music has always been a topic of mystery. You’ve practically begged him to share a snippet of his songs with you ever since he mentioned being in a band, and each time he has refused. Though your words were playful, you had no idea if he made music at all. You recently realised how little you knew of him as a person too.
“And why would I lie to you about making music?” he asked.
You shrugged your shoulders. “I dunno. You could’ve been using it to make me fall in love with you or something. Pretending to be some cool, mysterious person in a band when you’re actually the opposite.”
“Well, did it work? Are you in love with me yet?”
You turned to look at him, narrowing your eyes as if to analyse him.
“Nope. You’ve got to try harder than buying me food and walking me to the lobby every morning.”
Yoongi let out a sigh, feigning disappointment. His lips pressed into a thin line that did little to hide the growing smile on his face. “Damn, I really thought I’d have you by now.”
A giggle escaped your lips just as the elevator doors slid open with a ding. You stepped in and returned to your position beside Yoongi, who clicked the second last button. Faint music played in the background, a soft ballad that you instantly recognised.
“I love this song,” you said. Yoongi turned his head to look at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“You do?”
You nodded. “Mhm. I’ve been having it on repeat for the last week.”
“Oh- I love this song too. Well- I’ve only listened to it once or twice whenever my friend plays it, but it’s really good.”
“I know right!” You were grinning as you looked at Yoongi, enthusiasm spilling from your tone, eyes wide with excitement. “It’s so- like- cosy? I don’t know.” A laughing breath escaped you.
“No, you’re right. It has that nice, cosy feel to it.”
You gesticulated wildly as you rambled on about the song and why you loved it so much, while Yoongi watched you with a wide smile. It was nice seeing you talk so passionately about something so mundane, how a simple song could brighten your entire day.
Yoongi didn’t interrupt you once, listening to your every word attentively. He wished he could stay with you, maybe even walk you to your college, just to hear your pleasant voice. There was just something about the smile on your face that made his heart beat a little faster.
But alas, he was forced to part ways with you as you reached the lobby doors. You waved goodbye and walked down the pathway. Instead of going his own way, Yoongi stayed as you grew smaller in his view.
Just before turning a corner, you looked back at him. You threw your head back as what Yoongi assumed to be a giggle—he was too far away to hear—left you. You brought your hands up and swatted them in his direction as if to shoo him away. He moved his hands to rest over his heart, feigning a hurt expression. He failed miserably, earning more laughter from you.
He liked making you laugh. It made his skin feel warm, the mere sound of it causing butterflies to erupt in his stomach.
It was stupid how much of an effect you had on him. He was absurdly comfortable around you, something he found difficult to accomplish around people he’s known for the better half of his life, let alone less than a month.
You lit up his day, your everyday routine giving him a reason to get up and be productive each morning. He never woke up before noon; there was simply no need to because anything to do with the band was held in the afternoon, and he usually did the night shift at his part-time job.
So why was he sacrificing the comfort of his blankets just to see you for ten minutes? Why was he debating on whether to change to a day shift because he didn’t even have anything to do in the morning other than seeing you? Why was he smiling to himself as he walked down the street, earning looks from passersby? And why didn’t he care, all because you were the only thing on his mind?
Honestly, he didn’t have an answer. It was too soon to conclude that he liked you. You were just a genuine friend, someone he happened to click with.
Right?
────
“I wrote a new song. I need you guys to sing it.”
Yoongi threw a leather notebook to the side, where it landed on the brunette who lay sprawled across the couch.
“Ow! Hyung, what the fuck?”
Taehyung plucked out his wired earphones, eyebrows furrowed in exaggerated pain as he took the notebook into his hands. He flicked through the pages meaninglessly before landing on the newly written pages.
On the couch opposite him sat Jungkook and Seokjin, completely immersed in some sort of game they played together. They yelled out profanities and shared movements intended to sabotage the other’s gameplay. Yoongi sighed.
Calling the room a mess was an understatement. A multitude of empty energy drinks, a few random sticky notes—reminders from the members to each other that would end up being forgotten anyway—and a stack of empty plates littered the coffee table. A hill of clothes sat neglected in the space beside Jungkook and Seokjin, and Yoongi automatically crinkled his nose despite the lack of any unpleasant odour.
He would have attempted to tidy up the room, but the long day weighed down on his shoulders. He moved Taehyung’s legs off the couch and slumped down beside him.
“Since when did you write love songs?” Taehyung asked. It was comical how fast Jungkook and Seokjin’s attention turned to Yoongi.
“It’s not a love song, it’s a ballad, idiot,” Yoongi mumbled.
“Same thing,” Taehyung replied, rolling his eyes as he flicked to the next page.
“Aw, Yoongi’s in love,” Seokjin piped up, feigning a sympathetic expression. He brought his hand up and added with a whisper, “Don’t worry, it’ll go away soon.”
“Fuck off, hyung.” Yoongi flipped him off and Jungkook chuckled at the exaggerated gasp that fell from Seokjin’s lips. Before he could start rambling on about how you should respect your elders, the youngest spoke up.
“So, who’s the girl, hyung?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“I told you, it’s not a love song. There’s isn’t any girl.”
“Yeah, right. Just tell us wh—.”
“Is she the one that lives a few doors down?” The new voice emerged from the side of the room, and everyone’s heads snapped up in its direction.
Jimin shut the bathroom door softly as he vigorously rubbed a towel over his hair. The ink tattooed under his chest was displayed in his shirtless form, grey sweatbands lying low on his waist.
“Who?”
“Why was I not told about this?”
“Yoongi has a girlfriend?!”
“She’s not my girlfr—.”
“No, she’s just the only reason you wake up at ass o’clock to see for like- ten minutes.” A teasing smile played at the corners of Jimin’s lips as he propped down between Seokjin and Jungkook. Yoongi shot him a glare.
“She’s a nice person. So what if I wake up a little earlier to see her? I’d do the same for you guys if we didn’t live together.”
Everyone in the room turned to look at him with a deadpan expression.
“Okay, maybe I wouldn’t, but it’s not that big of a deal!”
“Clearly is if you’re writing love songs about her,” Taehyung added. He threw the book over to the three who sat on the opposite couch, and Jungkook caught it with ease before eagerly flicking to the page with the lyrics.
“I’m not writing love songs about her! It’s not even a love song, it’s a ballad!”
“Okay, maybe you’re right. But there’s no way she’s not even a tiny bit of the reason why you wrote this,” Jimin said.
Seokjin nodded in agreement. “You’ve been struggling with writer’s block for like- the past week. And now you’re suddenly writing a song that’s a complete 180 of everything we’ve made so far?”
All four of their beady eyes stared at Yoongi, waiting for an answer. It felt like an interrogation.
“This isn’t fair, this is bullying. If Namjoon was here, he would’ve stuck up for me.”
“Yeah, cuz you’re a big baby that can’t even stick up for himself,” Taehyung mumbled, though Yoongi heard him loud and clear. He opened his mouth to curse at the younger when Jimin interrupted him.
“Uhm, no he wouldn’t. How’d you think I knew about the girl?”
“Asshole,” Yoongi muttered under his breath.
He told Namjoon about you around a week ago. How it had slipped into the conversation, Yoongi didn’t know. But his mind had been foggy from his intoxication that he found himself eventually telling Namjoon everything; about how you met, how you helped him, the dinner you shared. He didn’t even spare the details; how he thought you’re eyes were the most beautiful things he’d ever seen, how your laugh made his heart leap, how he hadn’t felt like this is years—if ever—and it was scaring him how fast he was falling for you.
Yoongi was frustrated at Namjoon but was also grateful that he didn’t reveal everything he had told him that night. If he had, the members wouldn’t be questioning him right now because they would already have a clear answer.
Yoongi sighed, leaning back his head.
“I- Last week, she mentioned this song that she loved ‘cause it was playing in the elevator. And- I don’t know- I don’t think our usual music is her taste. She’s been asking me to play her some of our songs for weeks and I’ve just avoided the subject. I just- I want her to listen to something that I know she’ll love.”
Because he loved seeing you happy. He loved the way you’re face lit up and he wanted you to have the same reaction when you listened to his songs. But he didn’t say that, of course. Just treasured the thoughts deep in his mind because he hated the truth they carried.
“That’s so cute, hyung,” Jungkook said.
“Whatever,” Yoongi mumbled, becoming more aware of the warmth spreading across his ears. “So, will you guys sing the song? I don’t think any rap verses would fit it, so it’s completely up to you.”
“I don’t think we’ll be able to get it finished fast enou–,” Jimin started, but was abruptly cut off.
“Of course, we will,” Taehyung said, throwing a hand over Yoongi’s shoulder. “When you guys get married, tell her that we’re the only reason she fell for you. You know, with our angelic voices an-.”
“Taehyung, I swear to fucking God-.”
────
Snowflakes poured from the sky, clinging to your clothes for a brief second before disappearing into the fabric. The cold air bit into your skin, slowly seeping into your bones and numbing your face.
You were delighted when the snowfall first began a few weeks ago. It had been the only thing that marked the start of the holiday season, and you found yourself giving into the festivities of it all despite the reminders of your finals looming over you like an angry, dark cloud.
Now that your exams were buried in the past, you realised what a hassle the weather was when it wasn’t the only thing cheering you up.
Your nose was stuffy and an angry shade of red. Your limbs ached, weighing down on you. It took you double the time it usually took for you to walk home due to the black ice that coated the sidewalks. You made the mistake of trudging through it carelessly once, and that ended up with a sprained ankle and complete humiliation. No way would you let that happen again.
No one would willingly go out in such weather.
So why was there someone standing outside your apartment? Why was he choosing the bitter cold instead of the heated lobby that stood a mere three steps away? And why was it Yoongi?
A thick scarf hung around his neck, obscuring most of his face with it’s deep, red fabric. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his black jacket, his head turned down to the floor.
He didn’t notice you as you approached his figure.
“Are you trying to freeze to death?”
His head snapped up. He stared at you blankly for a second before his cheeks rose up ever so slightly, the signs of his rare smile that always made your heart flutter.
“Hi. No—.” He chuckled softly, the sound quickly lost to the busy city. “—I was waiting for you. Didn’t know what time you came back, so...” His voice got quieter as he spoke, trailing off into a mumble.
“Oh, that’s so sweet.” Your words brought a smile to his face, his expression no longer holding a sense of hesitancy. “Why were you waiting for me though?”
“Right. I had to give you this.” He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a square-shaped envelope. Sensing your confusion from your puzzled expression, he added, “It’s a CD. You wanted to hear some of our songs, so I put together my personal favourites.”
All the words of thanks and appreciation died on your tongue as you took the cover from his hands. It was incredibly light, and you could trace the circular outline of the CD that lay inside.
“Yoongi, I– you really didn’t have to,” you finally managed.
“I wanted to.”
Your eyes crinkled to accommodate the smile growing across your face. “This is literally the best thing anyone has ever gotten me. You could’ve sent me a playlist online, y’know, instead of putting so much effort into it.”
Yoongi hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“I thought you’d like a CD more.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, of course I love the CD. I was just wondering why you chose the harder way.”
“I thought you deserved something more than just a few texts.”
You hoped that Yoongi would overlook the heat crawling across your skin as a result of the cold instead of his words.
“I- Thank you. Seriously, thank you so much.”
He nodded. “You do have something to play it on, right? I actually didn’t think about whe–.”
“Oh yeah, no don’t worry. I have an old laptop that I can put these into.”
Another nod. Yoongi’s eyes darted away as soon as they met yours, glancing around everywhere but you.
“Do you wanna go inside and not risk hypothermia?” you said with a small laugh.
“Uh– I actually have to visit a friend today.”
“Oh, okay.” Had he noticed the way your shoulders deflated at his answer? You hoped not. “I’ll see you around then?”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
You stepped past him and fished out your keys from your pockets. By the time you opened the door and turned back to wave goodbye, he had already walked away.
────
Click.
The CD slid into the side of the laptop with ease. Files popped up on the screen, casting shadows across your skin. You could feel the quiet hum of the machine beneath your fingertips, a steady, calming rhythm that contrasted with the sudden quickening of your heartbeat.
Your eyes wandered over it, soaking in the half a dozen songs Yoongi had chosen. You’d already listened to them all once, but you wanted to hear them again.
There was something about the way they played in your ears, something almost magical in the way the melodies intertwined with your thoughts. Each note seemed to resonate with a different part of you as if Yoongi had handpicked them to speak to your soul.
The songs were beautiful. Despite it not being your usual choice of music, you found yourself treasuring each song close to your heart. You hadn’t expected to feel this way, hadn’t anticipated how deeply you’d connect with the music that was so different from what you normally listened to. But here you were, replaying them over and over, savouring each lyric like a secret only you and Yoongi shared.
Maybe it was because you got to see a new side of Yoongi in his music. A confident, almost arrogant version of him that sang each lyric with pure passion. You could feel the intensity in every word, every note as if they were laced with emotions he could never quite express in person.
Or maybe he just knew you well enough to pick out songs he knew that you would like. Songs that would make you think of him, songs that would linger in your mind long after the last note faded away.
Whatever it was, it failed to stop the giddy feeling that enveloped your skin. A warmth that spread from your chest to the tips of your fingers, leaving you lightheaded and dizzy with emotions you weren’t quite ready to name. You couldn’t remember the last time something—or someone—had made you feel this way.
Your fingers scrolled down on the mouse, a habit that had formed ever since you first got the laptop. You hadn’t expected the screen to move. But it did. A subtle movement that caught you off guard, your breath hitching slightly as you leaned closer to the screen.
A seventh file revealed itself at the bottom of the screen. It didn’t have a name. Just a small, blank icon that seemed to stare back at you, as if daring you to click on it.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Yoongi had probably added it by mistake, but you couldn’t help but wonder if this was something he had intended to keep hidden, something private that you weren’t meant to see. You clicked into it.
Someone cleared their throat.
“Uh, hi. I don’t know if you’ll see this or not, but I hope you do.”
Yoongi’s voice was low and smooth, just like you’ve always known it. But nervousness curled around his words, the hesitance before each one clear as day. It was a stark contrast to the confident, almost cocky tone in which he carried himself within all his other songs.
It made your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
“This is a cover.” He chuckled softly before his voice turned to a mumble. “God this is mortifying.”
You didn’t even realise that you were smiling. The corners of your lips had curled up almost involuntarily. There was something incredibly endearing about the way he sounded so vulnerable, so unsure of himself, and it only made you want to hear more.
“So–uhm. I hope you enjoy, ___.”
Oh, how you loved the way he said your name. The way the word fell from his tongue; like he was born to utter your name over and over again. It felt like a caress, soft and gentle, wrapping around you like a blanket on a cold winter night. You could almost see him there, sitting in front of his microphone, his eyes closed as he let your name slip past his lips.
He plucked the string of a guitar, the high-pitched sound quickly lost to his voice as he began to sing.
The familiarity of the song washed over you, a wave of nostalgia that tugged at your heartstrings. It was a cover of the same song you heard in the elevator a few days ago. The same one you had mentioned to him in passing. The same one he remembered to be your favourite.
He remembered, and it was almost pathetic how such a simple gesture had you feeling things that hadn’t been awakened in your heart for a dreadfully long time.
His voice filled the space with a melodic warmth that seemed to wrap around you like a comforting embrace. You leaned into the embrace—leaned in closer to the laptop in an attempt to be as close to him as you could so that you wouldn’t miss a single word. It felt as if he were singing directly to you as if every note was meant for your ears only.
His voice reminded you of honey; smooth, sweet, clear, and so fucking addicting. You could feel yourself getting lost in it, letting it seep into your very being, soothing parts of you that you didn’t even realise needed healing.
Unfortunately, the song was short. He had only sung half of it, lasting only around a minute and a half. But the enchanting melody lingered in the air long after he finished. You found yourself replaying it in your mind, trying to hold on to the feeling it gave you, not wanting it to fade away too soon.
“I hope I did the song justice.” A breathy laugh. “If I ended up ruining it for you forever, I’m sorry.”
If only he knew how much you would treasure his cover of the song in your heart, or how you would play the CD almost every day because you liked listening to his voice. How you would wake up every morning and–for the first time in a long while–would find yourself looking forward to change.
Looking forward to him.
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miviaceleste · 4 months ago
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A Blackrock Story: A Boy with Turquoise Eyes
Happy 12th Anniversary to Blackrock Chronicle!
This comic ended up being 47 pages long (when I first sketched it, it was only 20 pages long). Since I can only upload 30 images in a post, I had to combine 2 pages into 1 image so hopefully it's still visually fine and not annoying to scroll through!
I wrote this mini-story more than 10 years ago, so I figured it was time to finally make it into a comic (after editing the writing a lot because I became a much better writer since lol).
Be aware of the TWs, and I hope you enjoy this comic!
TW: Violence || Blood || Injuries/Scars/Burn Marks || Kidnapping || (Temporary) Death || Loss of Limb / Amputation
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Thank you all for reading one of my most insane projects ever!
Now, here’s another long story:
About 8 years ago, my life became so busy that to stay on top of my studies and activities, I stopped watching a lot of YouTubers, including the Yogscast.
I’ve grown up throughout the years. I had to stop acting like a kid to figure out what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I’m still an artist today, but I haven’t drawn in this way for about 3 years to pursue my real passion. I love to draw, but I didn’t have the time or inspiration to make something grand.
About 3 months ago, I suddenly got curious about how all those YouTubers I stopped watching were doing, so I checked out their channels and watched a video or two before moving on. When I got to the Yogscast channel, on the other hand, I quickly fell in love with the new content and with everyone again.
It was insane to see how immediately my love for them came back. In 3 months, I’ve watched so many videos and streams/VODs. It’s all so comforting, funny, and uplifting. Clearly, I missed so much content in the past 8 years, but at least I don’t have to worry about running out of things to watch for a while.
What made me most happy was that despite changing a lot, I never stopped being that kid who laughed at the Yogscast’s shenanigans. It just goes to show that no matter how much the world tries to push you around, you never lose that sense of joy you had as a child.
Now, about Rythian:
Since I started watching the Yogscast in 2011, Rythian has always been my favorite. I loved his series so much, especially with how he got into character to give us an immersive experience. It was an escape for me as a kid. When difficult moments were thrown at me, I watched Rythian’s series to find a sense of comfort.
So when I started watching his and Zoey’s Blackrock series, my mind was blown. The storytelling, acting, humor, and drama of the series were so immersive and touching that my creativity exploded.
I mainly use art to express myself and my interests because I struggle to talk about it. But funny enough, Blackrock was the only interest of mine that got me to not draw, but to write. I wrote a lot of short stories about the series—even how I envisioned the series would end. I was so inspired to create all the time from this series.
And what’s crazy is that at the beginning of this summer, I found all of those written drafts and notes from when I was a kid. I kept them all for 10+ years and found a very loose (and not that good) draft of this comic and I felt really inspired to finish it.
It was roughly when I was first watching Blackrock too when I realized that I can be creative in the future. The Yogscast helped me understand that I can do whatever I want for the rest of my life. If they could do it, then why can’t I?
What’s also wonderful is that even after so many years, Rythian never stopped being my favorite. When I started watching the main channel again a few months ago, I immediately found myself rooting for him whenever he was in the group videos. I just remembered how much happiness he brought me when I was younger and it makes me so happy that I still get so much joy whenever I hear his voice.
While working on this comic, I watched all of Kirbycraft and caught up on Kirby Farm. I can’t help but smile the whole time Rythian, Briony, and Kirsty interact with one another. The dynamic of these three brings me so much laughter and comfort. A part of me is upset that I didn’t get back to watching everyone when Kirbycraft was still live, but better late than never, right?
I also originally started this comic without the intention of posting it. But then I figured, Hey, it’d be great to share it with everyone who’s also been impacted by this series and the Yogscast in general, so I made this blog to post it here. Honestly, I’m not sure when the next time I’ll be able to draw is (who knew building a career takes away a lot of your energy and time?). But I think that’s what’s so wonderful about my love for Yogscast and particularly Blackrock: I didn’t make this comic for the likes or views. It was just because I wanted to, and I’m so happy to see there are so many people on here who feel the same love for them as I do.
This series and the people who made it, along with the people who supported it and loved it and continued to love it, impacted me for the better. I learned so many years ago that I can be creative for a living, and have been working hard towards doing that since.
Happy 12th Anniversary to the Blackrock Chronicle. To Rythian and Zoey who put a smile on this kid’s face even during the toughest of times.
And to the Yogscast, thank you for being there for me when I needed you all the most and for still being here when I came back. Your ability to inspire me and make me laugh never disappeared throughout the years I was gone, and I’m ready to laugh some more.
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wandaspup · 4 months ago
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Sinners Part 3
 
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Summary: In a small town, you try living up to your mother’s expectations while encountering Wanda Maximoff, a mysterious woman and a childhood friend of your mothers. It leaves you questioning her intentions and your beliefs.
parings: Wanda x Fem!R
Warnings: None 
Author Notes: I decided to post because It’s been almost two months and I don’t like making a chapter extremely long! So next chapter will be full of smut! And the truth about what happened with Wanda.  Thank you for everyone’s support! I’m never doing a mini series for awhile or maybe just keep it on the down low next time lol I can’t wait to share my other ideas! I got so many dark Wanda and Natty stories floating in my gay ass brain.
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The sound of the bell chimes as you enter the coffee shop you’re well familiar with, your body shifting towards your favorite spot in the café. Dark circles beneath your eyes and the pulsing pain in your arms and legs are reminders of the exhausting morning you had. Your mother woke you up early to help with boxes and cleaning the church for the upcoming Sunday. You’d told her an hour ago that you were taking a break, leaving quickly before she could protest, but you already knew she’d give you a piece of her mind later.
You rolled your neck from left to right, hoping for a satisfying pop. It was only twelve in the afternoon when you snuck a glance at the clock. Deciding to rest your head on your arm, you closed your eyes for a moment. A flurry of thoughts swarmed in—college, the possibility of leaving this town. Though you enjoyed it here, you hopelessly hoped you’d get to see more than the same people and the same stores you passed every day. But the arrival of one specific person was messing with your plans, as if they were being scrambled like a crumpled piece of paper, with only her laid out as the perfect piece of paper right in front of you.
Wanda Maximoff had been on your mind ever since that night. Her presence confused you. When you went to sleep that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about her hand on your thigh. You convinced yourself that she was just being friendly—a comforting gesture, right? A simple touch from one woman to another, like you see all the time between girls and their friends. Wanda was just being friendly, that’s all.
Looking down, you noticed your hand resting on the same leg Wanda had touched. You stared at it for a long time, lost in thought, before someone or something pulled you out of your daydream.
“I’m being ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, trying to shake off the lingering feelings.
You waited until the line was empty and slipped past the small tables surrounding the area, muttering an apology when you accidentally bumped into someone in front of you. Before you could say anything, you heard that familiar voice.
Wanda stood right there, a delicate smirk on her lips and her arms crossed over her chest. “We have to stop meeting like this,” she said, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.
You couldn’t decide whether to be amazed or cautious around Wanda. It felt like she always knew exactly where you’d be. Maybe your suspicion of being followed wasn’t so crazy after all. Scratching the back of your head, you chuckled softly.
“I was hoping to see you again. Taking a break from your mother, I see?”
Surprised, you blinked rapidly. “How did you know about that?”
She rolled her eyes and glanced at the menu above the cash register, shrugging her shoulders. “I just assumed, silly. Your mother always loved working and running the show back in high school. I remember she made another classmate her little minion.”
There was a brief pause before you answered. “Oh, I see... well, yeah, she’s got me packing and unpacking a bunch of boxes at the church.”
Wanda nodded and approached the woman at the counter with a warm smile. She gestured towards you and said, “It’s on me.”
You insisted on paying for yourself, but ultimately, she won the argument. Feeling your knees threaten to buckle, you quickly sat down, careful not to spill your coffee. Wanda hid her smirk as she took a seat across from you.
“So how have you been?” You cringed. That sounded much better in your head. Wanda reached across the table and squeezed your hand, her touch cold yet gentle.
"No need to be nervous, sweetheart,” she reassured you. “After all, I’m a friend of your mother’s. We’re basically family.”
“Right.” You let the tension in your body dissipate and stared down at your coffee.
“Thanks for the coffee by the way.”
“My pleasure darlin.”
You carefully considered your next words. The diner became much quieter than it was when you got here. There was something you desperately wanted to know, and she was the only one able to tell you the truth. Your stomach clenched with nerves as you released it and took a deep breath. Wanda patiently waited but deep down she was relishing in the way you acted around her. You were after all just a sweet and polite girl who goes to church every Sunday and does whatever people tell you. Wanda was about to bask in the afterglow of it all.
“What happened between you and my mom? How come she never mentioned you?”
Wanda’s expression shifted, a shadow creeping beneath her features. “We drifted apart,” she began, her voice sounding dry and dull. “It was our senior year of high school. Your mom got pregnant with you, and everything changed. She decided to move here, to start fresh, I suppose.”
There’s a nagging feeling that something was off, but you chose to let it go. Wanda’s eyes stared blankly at you for a moment before a smile crept onto her candy lips. “I had a great time at dinner, by the way.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself Ms.Maximoff”
Wanda waved and dismissed you, patting the top of your hand resting on the table. “No need for formalities, sweetie. Just call me Wanda.”
The hour went by fast. You gazed up at the clock and thought of your mother having a freak-out that you weren’t back at the church by now. Wanda noticed this and smirked. Everything was going according to plan, and she wasn’t about to let it stop now. “Is everything alright dear?”
You gave a tight smile and checked your phone for messages. Wanda watched you intently. You felt you could trust her and hoped she’d understand. After all, she knew your parents since high school. She was family.
“I know it’s not my place, but I understand what you’re going through with your mother,” Wanda said softly. “I’ve been there with my own.”
“Really? Are you still in contact with her?” you asked, leaning in.
  Wanda chuckled and grabbed a napkin, dabbing the corner of your mouth. “Let’s just say the only way I can contact her now is through prayers. She passed a few years ago.”
You head dipped as you apologized for asking. Wanda dismissed your apology right away, claiming her mother wasn’t everything she hoped for. “I loved my mother, even I often felt I was never enough for her. But I’m sure your own mother doesn’t feel the same way about you.”
“My own mother controls everything I do. It’s infuriating. I can never any decisions without her approval.”
“Sweetheart.” She patted the top of your hand, looking at you with those wide green eyes. She breathed in and out, licking her top lip before smacking them with a pop. “If you want to live your life, you either need to do that on your own or forever live under your mother’s reality. It’s your choice, but remember, whatever you decide, I’ll always be here for you.”
After your talk, you hurried back to the church, your mind racing about what Wanda told you. When you entered, the air hung heavy with packed boxes, neatly lined up and some stacked in preparation for the upcoming parade. And then there she was—the woman you had dreaded seeing—standing in the aisle, clutching a clipboard with a smudged expression written on her face.
“Glad to see my own daughter can remember something,” she remarked sharply. She pointed towards a couple boxes on the left. “I need those boxes unpacked and everything organized properly.”
Moving towards the boxes, you began to carefully open them, her words still dawned heavy on your mind. You gripped the box tightly, feeling the veins in your wrist strain against your wrist. Taking a deep breath and shutting your eyes as you focused on something to prevent yourself from lashing out. Yet, no matter how hard you tried to think of anything else, Wanda’s image kept intruding into your thoughts.
Her voice echoed in your mind, urging you to do what was right and stand up for yourself. Thinking of her and the reassuring sound of her voice visibly relaxed you. As you scanned the church, your gaze settled on the podium, a sudden realization of where you stood struck. You gently inhaled and exhaled, silently whispering forgiveness. If you were honest, you didn’t fully understand why you had asked--or perhaps it was to brace yourself for her. There were times when you feared you give in, and you clung to anything that keep you sane.
But you also didn’t want to be sane and Wanda can see right through you more than anybody has in this town. Even your own parents.
With a steady hand, the knife ripped through the tape sealing the top with little crinkles and the flaps spread out. Carefully grabbing the contents inside and setting them down on the floor by you. You did that to another five boxes till you got ready on organizing and stacking the contents in order.
“Thought you’d be done by now.”
You shrugged and kept your eyes focused on the task. “Want this done or not?”
She scoffed and tilted her head. The anticaption growing every millisecond, waiting for her to explode. Wanda’s words mimicked in her head, almost engraved once your mother spoke her words.
“Watch your mouth. I’m your mother and you will talk to me with respect. Do you understand me?”
The knife slams down on the broken boxes. You pounced towards her with your fingertips digging in your palms. Opening and closing your mouth, the words you wanted to say were on the tip of your tongue begging for release. As you chuckled, you looked between your mother and the podium. “I’m going to be off to college soon and I’m not going to need you anymore.”
You headed towards the doors not bothering to even acknowledge the shock on your mother’s face.
“These boxes still need to be unpacked.”
“Unpack them yourself.”
Just before reaching the door, you paused with your hand on the handle, hesitant to turn it. You waited for her to speak, knowing she wouldn’t let the moment pass. Finally, you turned back to face your mother. She wore a stone-cold face. “You’re never going to make it into college or anywhere for that matter. Why do you think I’m hard on you?”
You scoffed, your voice radiated with disbelief. “Than why pay for college? Why let Dad waste your precious money?” The words hung heavy.
She took a few steps forward, her expression was unreadable. She stood still, searching in her delirious state of mind for words she wanted to say. Silence stretched out, everything tense and only angry rifted through it. You shifted uncomfortably, your mind racing and waiting for her to speak.
“I want to see you succeed,” she began, her tone measured, “but I know in my heart you’re going to fail, and you’ll be crawling right back to us.”
After her words were done and out in the open. You clenched and unclenched your hands, wishing Wanda was here to support you. “So you’re giving me false hope? What kind of mother are you.”
“A mother who loves her child enough to keep her from making stupid mistakes and don’t even lie... I know you spend time with Wanda.
In a swift motion you pulled yourself together and crossed your arms over your chest.
You wondered if she saw you two at the coffee shop or someone opened their mouth. It is a small town after all. “What if I am? She’s been a better mother figure then you’ve been for 19 years of my life.”
“Wanda is an old friend who I love dearly but she is no position to replace me.”
You swore, feeling the heat rise within you like steam leaking from a kettle. “I never said she was,” you asserted firmly, your voice edged with frustration. “And how come you never thought to introduce me to her? Why haven’t you guys spoken for years?”
She sighed than almost hesitating, the nature of your words determined for answers and the truth floated like specks of dust. You stood and waited patiently, looking right into her eyes to see if she was lying. Your mother had always lied on multiple occasions, so you picked on her tactics long the way.
“I do not know why. Life happened and everyone drifted apart. Only God knows the answer.
You lingered for a second before turning back and opening the door, leaving your mother standing alone in an empty church and sun rays blasting through the stained windows. The fresh, earthy scent of recently cut grass and the gentle breeze brushing against your skin momentarily eased your mind. You took a few deep breaths, placing your hands on your hips as you gazed up at the sky.
Thoughts of Wanda suddenly filled your mind. She seemed to be the only person who had been truly honest with you. You began walking with the hope of running into her, as you often did. As you moved further from the church, which was now just a distant blur, you noticed a car slowly trailing behind you. The tinted windows obscured the driver’s identity, so you stood still, hands in your pockets, maintaining a cautious distance.
“Hey sweetie... need a lift?”
A relieved sigh escaped your lips. You reached for the door handle, and it swung open to reveal a cabin with neat brown leather seats and red interior. “Thank you, Wanda,” you said as you slid into the seat and buckled up, your hands trembling slightly. The sweet scent of peaches filled the air as you settled in.
“I did say I’d always be there,” Wanda chuckled, tapping her fingers lightly against the steering wheel as she started driving. “So, how’s everything with your mother?”
“I don’t want to talk about her right now,” you said calmly, though a trace of frustration lingered in your voice. You reached for the button on the door panel, pressing it firmly. As the window rolled down with a soft whir, the breeze gently flowed into the car, mingling with the lingering scent of peaches.
“Can I come over to your place?” You hesitated for a moment before adding, “If that’s okay with you.”
Wanda grinned from ear to ear, briefly glancing at you with a knowing look. “I’d love the company. Your mother is always caught up in work, and I’m the one visiting.”
“She always chooses work over everything else...” you murmured, your voice tinged with a mix of angry and sadness. Sometimes, you found it hard to care at all when it came to her.
Wanda’s gaze lingered for a moment, though her attention remained on the road. She turned a corner and parked the car, shifting the gear into park and turning off the engine. With a gentle squeeze of your thigh, drawing your attention to her.  Large, doe-like green eyes seemed to hold you in their gaze, making you hesitant to move a muscle. “Let’s get you inside darling.”
taglist;
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@thursdayygrrrl @falloutboy-lover @obsessedwjill @ksandraxox @scarletnatsblog 
@bbbyliv0202 @peyt-n @wandaswife13 @criticsstuff @kimlipimsingle @sam-h-69 
@rowiebear @thalia-is-not-ok @immclovinmilfs 
@aemilia19 @jazzabebev @ksandraxox @starynn
@lottiemistsgf
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adonis-koo · 2 years ago
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sweet nothing • 1
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( in which you prove to be far more trouble he thought you'd be )
↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.
His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader
↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!
Word Count: 4.6k
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Note: the crowd is booing so loud at the sight of pregnancy but I don’t care!!! slice of life makes my head go brrr. lol in all seriousness I hope you all enjoy this lil story! It’s just a mini series that is super domestic and light hearted! it popped into my head and I had to write it down so enjoy! also this hasn't been proofread, we die like men
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The room was suffocatingly silent. 
Jungkook had ignored it promptly though, leaned back in his leather chair, hair dusting over his eyes slanting his view, but his sight couldn’t be more accurate then it already was. 
This was not what he had asked his men to do. 
“I…” Your voice scratched, trying to find something to say, not only had you been kidnapped a mere hour ago, but now you had been brought into your captor's home and taken to him directly.
Your throat tightened as your heart beat frantically, you couldn’t be scared right now, you needed to take action before it was too late, “I understand why I’m here but please,” You looked up at him earnestly, “I…I’m due in early December. You can sell me off, keep me here, do what you want with me but please, Mr Jeon, give my baby a chance."
Your eyes blurred at just the thought, your hands hugging over your swollen stomach. You had been so shaken up the whole time that it hadn’t even occurred to you how fast this had all happened. 
It was late and you had been worried your brother found himself in trouble again, one minute you were getting ready to phone him, the next the door was smashed open to men in suits, guns in the air and tearing the whole apartment up. 
You were taken as…what you could only assume was collateral, you knew who Mr Jeon- you had informally met before.
Your brother had been paying him ransome for protection against…well…You supposed there was no reason to bother recounting everything. You were here now, in front of Jeon Jungkook, who looked less than pleased at the moment. 
What made you worried however was his continued silence, he was never a man of many words, or at least that's the impression you had always gotten when your brother and him would meet. 
Jungkook shifted in his chair, his lip visibly twitched before he muttered, “Get her out of here.” 
You felt your stomach lurch as you were yanked out of your chair with a yelp, “In one piece.” Jungkook added with an annoyed glint in his eye. 
The grip on your arms was relaxed immediately before you were jostled out of the room leaving it in silence once more. 
“It was the best we could do Sir,” Yeonjun spoke, crossing his arms behind his back, “We searched the whole apartment but Wonho was gone. We took her for collateral until he’s found.” 
Jungkook looked more visibly angry, “You brought me a pregnant defenseless woman.” He stood up in his chair, “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” 
Yeonjun lifted his hands, “Send a message out to Wonho, tell him we have his sister and we’ll see if he actually has a soul and gets the money to save her.” 
“And if he doesn’t?” Jungkook challenged, his eyes brewing hellfire as he inhaled sharply, Yeonjun had wisely chosen to not engage in his questions anymore, “I’m not going to kill her for fucks sake, even I have my limits.” 
Jungkook tucked his tongue into his cheek as he leaned against the desk. 
“Well we can't just release her now,” Yeonjun replied, “So what do you want me to do with her?” 
Jungkook crossed his arms, his jaw clenched in anger as he shook his head in thought. Who’s bright idea was it to take her ransome? Truly? Because he knew Yeonjun wasn’t that stupid. 
“Put her in a nice room, draw her a bath, offer a foot massage. She’s fucking pregnant, do I have to keep reminding you?” Jungkook hissed out as he waved his hand about.
“Noted.” Yeonjun sighed, “Anything else you wanna add to that list?” 
“Yeah, if I hear about one bruise, one little fucking scrape on her, I’ll have everyone lined up and shot in the living room.” Jungkook replied, before turning around to sit back down, “Now go. I don’t wanna see anyone unless they have something about that rat that isn’t a waste of my time.” 
Yeonjun nodded and said no more, leaving while his head was somehow still intact. Jungkook collapsed in his seat as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Wonho had fucked up more then just not paying his debts, he had leaked sensitive information to the Kim’s and it had him on extremely thin ice right now. 
He didn’t need a bystander involved in this situation. Jungkook crossed his arms in thought as he leaned back in his chair, you were a familiar enough face for Jungkook to recognize, you had only met a handful of times and was never involved in more dangerous dealings your brother dealt with. 
Quiet, you were considerably quiet, though Jungkook can recount a few small harmless conversations you had both made while waiting on your brother or in other circumstances that would call for something as such. But it had been awhile since he had seen you. 
Obviously long enough for you to get knocked up and in the middle of a pregnancy. Jungkook exhaled as he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the stress induced headache he had. 
Yeonjun was right, now that they had you it would be better to just keep you here and out of the line of fire, if they let you go now there was no telling what you would do, would you warn your brother? Would he sell you out? 
Would the Kim’s have kidnapped you as well? 
Jungkook had made the decision that yes, it would just be easier to keep you here at his estate, more as a guest than actual collateral because he honestly didn’t believe the idea that your brother would actually care about anyone but himself, he had proven that countless times. 
Jungkook may have not known you personally, but given your display of groveling, it was evident you felt the same.
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This…was not what you had expected.
Your lips parted in shock as the door shut behind you, the rooms were easily bigger than your little apartments living room, a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling and plenty of spare space, large windows were next to the bed with tall hanging curtains and a writing desk was on the wall next to it. 
Then there was the bathroom, a claw foot bathtub and fluffy towels all folded up with various shampoos and soaps on display. You had to rub your eyes twice to figure out if you had been hallucinating. Everything was…nice…
You weren’t sure what you had expected but this wasn’t it. The water was hot against your skin as you showered, a little paranoid albeit, waiting for the door to bust down once again and for them to drag you into a less nice room. 
But the men never came as you laid in bed, shifting constantly to try and fall asleep.
One of the downsides of being pregnant was not being able to sleep on your stomach the way you had been, your side felt uncomfortable and your back kept cramping anytime you laid for too long on your back. 
Your hand gently brushed over the bump with a sigh, you didn’t understand why Jungkook would do this. You had spoken to him a handful of times, and while you wouldn’t describe him as a charismatic person, he was polite. But you had heard the stories about him, rumors of something much darker than who you had talked to that lurked beneath. 
Jungkook was a CEO of a small export company, big enough that he had well established connections in the upper socialite world but small enough that he evaded being in the spotlight of hollywood and its nosy media reporters. 
He refused photoshoots or magazine interviews at whatever cost and only attended parties unless it was absolutely necessary. Or so he had somewhat jokingly recalled one evening when you both were sitting at a club bar, somewhat awkwardly waiting for your brother who had gotten busy with a prostitute after Jungkook had come later then he said. 
Whether this was all true or not was beyond you. 
You supposed at the end of the day you should be thankful he’s chosen to keep you alive, for now. But dread filled your stomach, after all, you were only alive on borrowed time. 
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It was a beautiful day outside, it was early morning but the sun was shining bright with billowy thick clouds and it was still cool outside, but within a few hours the heat would once again be scorching hot just as it was yesterday. 
You had taken an extensive amount of time to take in the gardens as well, marigolds, tulips, buttercups and so many more were all around, well taken care of by the looks of it. It was gorgeous. 
This, of course, was all in an effort to avoid the gaze of the person who sat in front of you on the small table on the terrace. 
“You should eat,” Jungkook finally spoke, his hair was tied out of his face, giving you for the first time ever, a good look at his face. It was well sculpted with a chiseled jawline that oddly suited his rounded button-like nose. 
His thick brows were pinched as if he were angry as he ate, but you at some point realized the food must've just been that good, “You’re eating for two after all.” He added, “Nothing’s poisoned, if you couldn’t tell by now.” 
He gestured to his own plate, which had a serving of just about everything on the table on it, this made a weak smile tug on your lips, feeling oddly reminiscent of the few conversations you had shared before.
But this was very different. 
You were definitely hungry though, you had been craving syrup and fried chicken since four in the morning and while there was no chicken on the table, there was definitely syrup that could cure one of your cravings.
Hesitantly you put a few crepes onto your plate, adding some sausage as well before drizzling syrup over them.
“How was it?” 
You glanced up at him, not intentionally ignoring him, but to say you were still terrified of him was a bit of an understatement, “...What do you mean?” You finally asked, your voice no more than a whisper.
Jungkook wiped his mouth with an intricately decorated napkin, “Your room, it was rushed last night. They didn’t have time to put everything in there, you’ll be getting a wardrobe today but I didn’t know your size for maternity wear- or if that’s something you even wanted. You’ll have to discuss it with Jimin regardless.” 
You stared at him blankly for a long moment as he met your eyes, “What?” 
“Mr Jeon-”
“Jungkook.” His brows pinched, though this was not because of what he was eating. 
You stuttered, “...Jungkook,” You corrected yourself, still somewhat uneasy, “Um…I don’t understand, anything that’s going on.”
Jungkook sighed, as if he were expecting this as he leaned back in his seat, the buttons on his black shirt clinging for dear life as his chest puffed a little to stretch, “I doubt you know anything about your brother’s where abouts,” He replied, “And truthfully I’m sure you know he could give less then two shits about you or your baby.” He paused for a moment at the smallest sight, your lips briefly quivering and then your eyes darting to your plate. You were upset, but trying to hide it. It made him internally wince, perhaps his wording wasn’t the best. 
He cleared his throat as he continued, “So until this is all resolved you’ll be staying here, it’s the easiest thing to do with you at this point now that you’re involved. With your consent or against it. That’s up to you. But if you want to keep your baby safe then you’ll be smart and not try to escape.” 
You glanced up at him for a long moment before your hands curled, “You’re the one that kidnapped me. And it’s somehow my fault that I’m involved in my brother's affairs that I never wanted to be a part of to begin with?” 
Jungkook only curved a brow, quickly reminding you that you’re not in a position to be chastising him. 
However his lack of anger surprised you, in fact he sounded the opposite, “I did not kidnap you, my men did, without my knowledge of the whole situation. They made a split second decision in bringing you here, and indirectly involving you in the matter. It was a mistake on my behalf and I apologize for it.” 
You stared at him now in disbelief at his sincerity as he continued, “I’m trying to make up for it as best I can now by having you stay here. If you leave now it’s likely the Kim’s will take you hostage and see what information they can get out of you, or hell I wouldn’t put it past your brother to just sell you to them.” 
“My…my brother wouldn’t-”
“We both know the truth,” Jungkook cut you off with a frown, “There’s no point in trying to comfort yourself with a lie. There’s no telling what could happen if we let you walk out that door on your own. So like I said, if you’re smart and you want to keep your baby safe, you’ll stay here. How miserable you want to make this experience is up to you, but I have no plans of making you a hostage or holding you prisoner.” 
You slow began to eat, though having to hold back the urge to devour your whole plate, one bite had unleashed the monstrous appetite that had been lurking inside for the last six hours. 
“And I don’t suppose you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart,” You replied, “You have to want something in return.” 
Jungkook took a large bite out of his bratwurst, “You’re right,” he nodded before taking a drink of champagne, “I want you to stay out of trouble and not make this any more difficult than it needs to be. Two requests, you think you can manage that?” 
You both stared at one another for a long moment before you glanced at your plate, “I don't suppose there’s much choice is there?” 
Jungkook shrugged, “Depends on your perspective, you could easily raise hell if you wanted, but I’d prefer you not. Where’s your husband? The last thing I need is someone nosing about trying to look for you. It would be better to just inform him and get things settled right away.” 
Jungkook paused though at the sight of you stiffening a little, your jaw clenching as you grabbed your flute of water. 
“I don’t have a husband,” You finally spoke after taking a long drink, “Or boyfriend. I work at the Bakery on main street though, they’ll want to know why I’m unable to come in to work.” 
Jungkook looked curious, but he didn’t ask questions, “Very well, consider it taken care of.” 
He didn’t want to pry but he was undeniably curious about your circumstances, caught up in all of this, pregnant without a husband or partner. Jungkook had never considered you the type of woman to sleep around, having always been rather shy around him but then again, perhaps it was because you had always known who he truly was. 
Still though, it was rather curious indeed, and there was nothing more Jungkook enjoyed in his past time than a good mystery.
Rather than let the silence linger Jungkook asked, “How far along are you? This could be resolved in a few days, or it can take months. I’d rather make arrangements now for the later rather than be caught unprepared.” 
“Twenty two weeks,” You replied, your hand pressing against your stomach as you looked down at your baby bump, a brief smile tugging on your face before it fell at the sight of Jungkook’s face, a bit confused before you weakly smiled once more, “Five and a half months. Like I said yesterday, my due date is December 13th
You had been anxious before about delivery your baby, after all, you had never done it before. But you're definitely anxious now at the idea of having to do it while being held as a guest in the Jeon Estate. 
Labor was already a painful experience, you don't want to have to go through it alone in an environment like this. Jungkook only nodded though, “I’ll have my personal doctor come by and fill in the role of your practitioner for check ins with the baby. A midwife will also be on staff for check-ins as well. If you need anything else just let me know. I’ll find time during the day to see you at least once.” Jungkook checked his watch as he sat upright, “But I have to go now, business to do. Yeonjun will show you around and then Jimin will be around to talk to you in further detail about your wardrobe.”
Jungkook grabbed his satin black jacket off the back of his chair as he stood up before leaving you alone. With a sigh of relief you sunk into your chair, having not released the breath you held in until you let it out before feasting on your breakfast while thinking about his words. While this was not an ideal situation, you couldn’t deny Jungkook’s kindness.
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You had been settling in for the last week and a half with an odd amount of contentment, your days were filled with a lot less physical labor then before, though you did miss going out and seeing your coworkers and interacting with regular customers. 
There was a certain sense of peace the estate gave you though, you still took your daily walks in the garden accompanied by Yeonjun who had been personally assigned to oversee you and he was a rather funny person. 
His humor was dry and it was even funnier watching him interact with Jungkook. 
He served as good company as did a few other people you had met, Jimin being one of them, he oversaw the finances of the estate and basically kept the place running while Jungkook was off doing business, only ever bothering him when something of substantial financial sum was needed for something.
And true to his word you saw and spoke to Jungkook at least once a day as he said, either in the morning for breakfast or in the afternoon for dinner. But the talk was usually the same, either about this or that, small talk.
You supposed it wasn’t that bad, considering the situation you were in you should consider yourself lucky that Jungkook is who he is. Regardless, you didn’t feel comfortable asking him about your brother.
First off what had he done for you to be put in this position and more importantly, where had your brother disappeared to? You had no doubt many of Jungkook’s days were spent searching for him, which made you wonder, just what had your brother done?
You dismissed it from your mind, you had been trying to detach yourself from whatever consequences would eventually find your brother, after all Jungkook had a point- no matter how much it stung to hear.
You loved Wonho, you just wished for once he would put you first, that he would put anyone first, you couldn’t even remember when he spiraled down this destructive path of dealing in narcotics that got him all tangled up in gangs and inevitably, the mafia. 
Just that somewhere along the way your brother had turned into a total jerk that was willing to sabotage anyone to save his own skin. 
Just the reminder of the argument you had about this very topic had run through your head when talking to Jungkook, it was the reason you had chosen to stay here giving him no problems. 
While you still didn’t feel comfortable because again, you weren’t exactly staying out of complete free will, you did feel safe here. For once, you felt safe. Your hand rubbed over your stomach as you aimlessly walked through the halls. 
Yeonjun had an online meeting he was attending in his office which meant you were free to roam the inside of the estate of your own meanwhile, he had given you the grand tour when your first morning and yet it seemed like you were still finding new rooms. 
Curiously you walked through the ballroom, or the equivalent to one, it was a grand room big enough to host an expensive party for sure. Poking your head into different doors you never knew what to expect. 
Closing the last door you walked a little further before you let out a breath, grabbing your stomach at the small kick you just felt. 
“You’re a little sucker aren’t you?” You winced out, the little kicks themselves weren’t painful, it was mainly your sudden back pain that had you leaning against the wall for support. 
What you hadn’t expected though was for the wall to press inward before back out, revealing a hidden door. 
You quickly straightened up right, back pain forgotten as your lips parted. Of course mobster Jeon Jungkook would have a hidden door in the fancy ballroom of his estate, you shouldn’t have expected less. 
You opened it up as you peered inside before delight filled your face, it was filled to the brim with books and the entire wall was made up of glass giving an expanse view into the garden, and there was a wide window sill with soft cushions making up a seat. 
Sliding as best you could inside the door shut behind you as you stepped further in, it looked magical in here easily, lights were strung up though they looked dusty, as if they hadn’t been used in years. 
How had you never noticed this during the walks in the garden before? Sitting down you curiously nosed through books, mostly children's books oddly enough. You smiled however as your hands constantly rubbed over your tummy, a soothing habit you had developed as the bump grew.
While you still weren’t fond of the idea of giving birth here, if you had too, you were relieved to know there were supplies here that wouldn’t be horrible to utilize for your baby. You could just imagine holding them swaddled against your chest, laying against the soft pillows reading here on a rainy day. 
Standing up you groaned as you grabbed your back, Yeonjun would be wondering where you were at soon, after all he said his meeting wouldn’t be long. But you would certainly keep this place in the back of your mind as somewhere to go during quiet moments in the day. 
Walking back up to the wall you pressed on it before your happy expression slowly shifted. 
There wasn’t a door handle.
You pressed on the wall once more, a little more forceful hoping it would latch open again but unfortunately it didn’t budge. Your heart rate immediately spiked as you tried to calm yourself down.
This is fine. 
You sat back down on the cushioned window sill trying to think rationally. Yeonjun would be sure to look for you and if he couldn’t find you which means he’d call Jungkook which would mean…
Somehow the idea of that happening brought you less comfort than before. Jungkook would assume you had made a run for it and would probably not even bother to look for you. 
In fact, he’d probably be relieved that you were gone and he’d no longer have to deal with you. 
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“What the fuck do you mean you lost her!?” Jungkook hissed out venomously and not a single man dared speak up as he glared daggers at Yeonjun who held his breath for a moment, “She’s six months pregnant how the fuck do you just lose someone who’s six months pregnant!?” 
Jungkook was damn near ready to rip out his hair, he was already dealing with multiple loose ends on his part and now you were magically gone? 
“Where’s the CCTV at?” Jungkook growled as he ripped his jacket off, tossing it at his chair, he was burning up and his hand was itching to grab the gun that was shoved in his back pocket. 
“It’s been fried,” Jimin winced a little at Jungkook’s livid expression, “I went to check the moment I heard she was gone but it looks like someone sabotaged it just an hour ago.”
Jungkook’s lips twitched, “So what you’re saying is not only did all of you lose her, but she got fucking kidnapped in the process?” His hands curled into fists as he paced back and forth trying to not lose his cool any further as he viciously smiled, “This place is a goddamn fortress with over forty men guarding it and somehow, my CCTV footage got fried and guest got kidnapped within an hour and nobody noticed? Nobody!?” 
“There’s been no signs of breaking and entering though.” Yoongi, his business partner who had been sitting there watching the whole thing finally spoke up, “If somebody got in, we would’ve got the word. It’s like you said, you have over forty men on staff here.” 
Jungkook seemed to cool down a bit at his words but his tone was still sharp, “And the CCTV? What else could’ve fried it?” 
“The fact that you haven’t replaced it in the last five years?” Yoongi shrugged before snorting, “Maybe a bird chewed through the wiring, maybe it shorted. Hell if I know, what I do know is that it’s not normal for you to get this worked up over something.” 
Jungkook’s nostrils flared, “Because somebody’s life is on the line here. What about Y/n!? If she had left on her own there would be at least something indicating she left.” 
“Then maybe she didn’t leave.” Yoongi shrugged, causing Jungkook to pause his pacing as he stared at Yoongi accusingly, “What? It’s the truth, the estate is big Jungkook, she’s only been here a week, she probably just got lost. There’s no reason to make a big deal out of this when there’s no indication that points to it being a big deal.” Jungkook looked annoyed but said nothing to him, only muttering for them all to spread out and search the estate. 
It had been three hours of searching, every nook and cranny, under every bed in every closet and Jungkook had just about lost all hope as he gazed out the tall windows in the ballroom when he noticed something odd. 
The door to his childhood library was stuck in an odd position, it was old and he hadn’t been in here in ages, the door used to get jammed if it wasn’t closed properly. 
Luckily all it took was a little force to get open, he gave it a good shove before it clicked back into place and propped open as he peered inside. Mouth gaping at the sight of you jumping up in surprise, looking half asleep with a book in hand. 
Your smile was just as guilty as the rest of you as you said, “Hi…I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever find me.” 
“Out. Now.” Jungkook looked mad, but he was secretly relieved that you were safe. He’d rather you be stuck in the library by accident than having tried to make a mad dash on your own out of the estate.
Just the sight of your sulky pout let him know one thing for sure; you were absolutely not going to be able to follow his two requests, for better or worse. 
2K notes · View notes
muniimyg · 1 year ago
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6.5: baby 》 series m.list
note: oh my gawd ,, my friends !!! i’m so sorry for the wait! i was in my finals szn & tryna figure things out w my courses for my next sem … meanwhile ,, this entire ch has been brewing and consuming my mind like crazy! hope u guys enj ,, pls pls pls lmk what u guys think !!! i’m so glad i can finally push this ch out so lets fcking tawk abt it 😫
warnings: making out, mini fingering moment, raw sex, grinding, thigh humping ? ass slapping, pussy eating, 69, doggy style, cum shots & filming / sex tape vibes……… dirty talk / name calling <3 lol !!!
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main
fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook
//
Jungkook was afraid of this. 
From the moment he first made you laugh—oh, he knew he was fucked. Something inside him twisted and turned until his mind found ease from your very touch. Then, suddenly and all at once, every fiber in his body surrendered. Though he didn’t do the best job, he still tried. He tried his best to resist you and the feelings his heart felt. As his heart found rest with yours—it was then he realized that it was no use.
He was addicted to you. 
It’s like he’s a child all over again, tasting his favourite chocolate bar for the first time. It’s like he’s a timid high schooler trying weed and getting so high, that he’s already making plans to do this again tomorrow. Or, it’s like he’s a man falling in love for the first time. 
For real. 
No bullshit, just the plain and boring truth. No, he wasn’t only addicted to you… Jungkook is falling in love with—
“Cute room.” You step into his room and shut the door behind you. The room is dim, only lit with his warm lamp light and a few candles placed around. It looked romantic and for some reason, it did not scare you. If anything, it entices you. 
He was so thoughtful. 
Before you can look around any further, you feel Jungkook’s body embrace yours. He wraps himself around you, holding you tight by your waist and digging his face into the crook of your neck. He kisses you behind your ear, causing you to giggle from the ticklish feeling. At this moment, you take in the scent of his freshly washed hair.
Is it odd to say this has to be one of your favourite scents? You’ve grown to like it. If anything, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed when you see him and his hair isn’t a little damp. Something about him being freshly showered makes your heart race. His damp hair is a symbol of his priorities… And that priority is you. Not to mention, wet hair has got to be the most romantic look any boy could have… You’ve always told yourself that as a child. Now, here you are: standing in a room with a damp-haired boy clinging to you. 
Nothing makes you happier than this. 
“I think Yuna saw me—mmfphh,” your words are interrupted by Jungkook’s lips. He greets you with a peck before continuing to kiss you like it’s his last dying wish. 
His hands find their way to your hair, cupping your jaw as you kiss him back. Your lips sync together as if it’s been a lifetime since you two last did this.
Only it wasn’t—it hasn’t been.
It feels like it though. 
“Miss me much?” you ask, breaking away from the intense kiss. He leans his forehead against yours, wasting no time and letting his hands travel inside your shirt. You feel his fingers trace over your bra, quickly finding the clasp and undoing it with his one hand.
Impressive, you must admit.
Should you be mad at that? 
Jungkook smirks, “fuck around and find out.”
A small laugh escapes your lips as you raise your arms. He lifts your shirt over your head, leaving your top exposed. Your bra is barely hanging on and Jungkook can’t keep his eyes off your breasts. 
“How about a hi first?”
“Hi ___,” he obliges. Then, he taps his fingers together, bringing them close to his lips. Like a menace, he grins. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?” 
Playfully, you roll your eyes at him and respond by taking the bra off yourself. You fling it at his face, just enough for it to land perfectly on top of his hair. One cup covers his face and he takes a breath in. 
“Smells like you.”
“Smells like my boob sweat, you pervert.”
He takes the bra off from his face and licks his lips at the sight of your bare chest. “I can keep it in my pants… You on the other hand… A few nights ago? Drunk? You were coming on to me. Hard.”
You huff. “I was drunk.”
“You also said you’d hold my hand… Without arguing with me.”
“What? That doesn’t count. I was drunk.” Your words come out fast. It almost sounds defensive and harsh. “Jungkook, I was drunk.”
“Oh, I know.” He shrugs, taking the high road. “No need to be so uptight about it. It’s okay to hold hands, you know? The same way it’s okay to be obsessed with me, baby… This is a safe space.” 
The audacity! More than that, you wince at the pet name. “Who the fuck is baby?”
Jungkook ignores your question and takes a step closer to you. As he does so, he takes his shirt off. He then tosses his shirt to the side of his room where his laundry hamper is. As you turn your attention back to him, your eyes fall on his pelvis area as he begins to undo his pants. Then, he pauses when he notices your gaze. 
“Do it for me.”
You raise a brow. 
“Pardon?”
“Take my pants off,” he points at the floor. “Get on your knees and take my pants off.”
For a split second, you hesitate. Earlier tonight, as you made your way over, you thought about what kind of mood he must’ve been in. You’ve seen Jungkook happy, irritated, tired, and even hangry… But horny in a needy and demanding way? Boarder-line desperate? Never. His doe eyes and goofy attitude can’t fool you… You’ve wondered about this. 
You’ve waited for this side of him. 
Perhaps it was your curiosity that answered for you because, without breaking eye contact, you fell to your knees. Jungkook’s gaze lowers as you bring your hands to his crotch. You palm him, feeling his cock and gulping at how hard it already was. Faintly, you hear him snicker at your submissiveness. 
He likes this. 
Slowly, you undo his pants and tug them down. In his Calvins, his raging boner greets you. Just as you slip your thumbs in between the fabric to pull them down, Jungkook grabs your wrists and pulls you to stand up. You follow his lead, confused. 
“I thought I was going to—”
Jungkook undoes your cargo pants buttons and tugs them down. He gives you no warning as he licks his thumb and slips his hand inside your panties. You feel his wet thumb rubbing your clit. Your breath hitches as he draws circles and then adds another finger into the mix. He deepens his rubbing, slowly but surely dragging his fingers around your folds. Jungkook then shifts his hand placement, quickly inserting a finger inside of you. The shock sends shivers down your spine and completely takes your focus. He adds another finger and it earns a lewd moan from you. 
“Ooh my god—”
Then, he stops. 
He takes his fingers out and examines the wetness. Your eyebrows furrow together, completely unsure of the pace he’s going at. How long would this last? Why couldn’t he just continue?
“Sorry, were you enjoying that?” Jungkook asks innocently.
It’s official: you hate him.
Dumbfounded, you shoot him a glare. “Maybe I was. Who knows? I wasn’t finished.”
Jungkook exchanges with laughter. “Finished? Five minutes in? Pookie, you give me way too much credit.”
You stick your tongue out at him, annoyed at how cocky he is. Truth be told, this suited him. The nasty comments and the edging… It feels like this should’ve happened before. It’s hard to explain but he just looks so comfortable with control. In a more unexplainable way—you can’t help but feel comfortable with it.
“Come on,” he nods towards the bed. “If you wanna finish, you should do it sitting on my face.”
His words make your tummy flip. Was he serious? The texts he sent prior to this.. You were so sure it was all talk. The most you expected was a quickie and a few nasty exchanges… But this? You don’t know what to think.
Jungkook lays on his bed first, gesturing you to follow. 
“Are you serious?”
With a flat tone, he answers: “Why would I joke about this?”
To be completely honest, he was a little offended you weren’t taking him seriously. Of course, he’s serious about eating you out. This was no joke to him.
Crossing your arms, you look at him in disbelief. “You want to do everything you texted me? Jungkook, there are people downstairs. Our friends are downstairs and—”
“I know,” he groans. “That’s why you need to shut the fuck up and sit on my face already. The longer we take, the more they will wonder where you are. Didn’t you say Yuna saw you come up here?”
“Y-yeah,” you recall. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”
He hits his bed with his fist like a child. “Why do you always deprive me?”
You gasp at his dramatic question. “Deprive you? It’s just my body, Jungkook. Do you crave pussy this bad?”
Tilting his head, he looks at you softly. “You,” he breathes. “I crave you.”
A silence falls between you two, followed by a heavy sigh. 
“Look, I’m never going to make you do things with me if you don’t want to. I’m only demanding tonight because I just—I really need you right now. If you want to go downstairs and find Yuna, go ahead. We can do this another time… I just thought you missed me just as much as I missed you.”
“Gaslighter.”
He chuckles, attempting to hide the smile on his face as you get on the bed. Moving closer to him, he watches your hands roam from his abdomen to his jaw. Placing chante kisses on him, he stutters his words. “I’m s-serious. It’s fine. It’s just pussy.”
“But it’s my pussy.”
“True,” Jungkook agrees, leaning back and watching you place yourself on his thigh. “So fucking true, pookie.”
You lean in to kiss him. His lips chase yours when you pull away, only to grind your hips. He feels your wet pussy on his thigh and he feels like he could choke on air. It’s torture watching you throw your head back at the sensation. You can’t help but embrace the feeling of relief.
“You’re not finishing on my thigh,” he mutters, placing his hands on your waist. He lifts you just enough for you to get off. Laughing, he squiggles down the bed so you have more space. Before you know it, you’re making yourself comfortable on his face. As you straddle yourself on, you make a confession.
“W-wait, I’m scared! I don’t want to suffocate you—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Jungkook snaps, unable to watch his tone. “This is literally all I’ve ever wanted so you need to shut the fuck up and let me have this.”
“Okay, okay,” you snicker lightly, as you sink into his face. “But seriously! I don’t want to crush—“
You don’t even finish your sentence. You’re cut off by the feeling of Jungkook’s hot breath against your pussy. Then, you feel his nose against your clit and the texture of his tongue brush against your folds. The feeling shocks you, causing you to lift yourself out of reflex. Just as quickly, Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you to stay. 
“J-Jungkook, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. You can and you will, got it?” he hisses. “Hold the fucking headboard if you need to. You aren’t going anywhere until your cum is on my tongue.”
You do as he says.
You lean forward, grabbing a hold of his headboard for support. 
Just as those thoughts immerse your mind, you feel him dragging his tongue across your folds. It begins slow and soft. It feels like kitten licks and if the word cute was a feeling… This was it. Then, he flicks his tongue and it’s everything but cute from here on out. You want to jolt, but you keep what Jungkook said to you in mind. Besides, there is no place in the world you would rather be at than here. Jungkook eats you out like he’s a starved man. He doesn’t miss an inch of your pussy and tightens his grip around your thighs each time your body twitches. 
Biting your bottom lip, you hold in your moan. 
He feels so good. His tongue against your wet pussy feels so fucking good—it’s almost comical how you were so hesitant to do this. Soon enough, you let go of the headboard and search for his hands. Like second nature, you and Jungkook intertwine your fingers together and finally, you close your eyes and give in. 
You can have this.
You can have him.
“Y-you feel so good,” you confess shyly. “You make me feel so good.”
Jungkook smiles against your pussy as you begin to roll your hips against his face. He knew it would take some time, but you’d eventually come around. No pun intended. 
“C-close,” you utter in between heavy exhales. “Jungkook—I’m close! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
You hold his hand tighter and push your weight on him harder. You feel him quicken the pace as he licks you and—holy shit.
Are those stars?
You cum.
Messy, wet, and hard. 
Jungkook moans against your pussy, taking a moment to bite your inner thigh. Your legs practically shake, causing you to completely rest your weight on his face. After a few moments, you gather whatever energy you have left and shift your position. You turn your body around and line yourself with his cock. Jungkook stretches his neck out to figure out what you’re doing. Before he can comment, your lips are already placing kisses on his dick. Your fingers dig into his Calvins and pull them off. 
“W-what are you doing?” He asks, voice shaking from anticipation. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what you were doing—he just couldn’t believe it. He’s so fucking lucky. 
“34 plus 35! Do the math,” you tease. “Keep it up, okay?”
Jungkook laughs, pinching your ass in response. “Keep up with me then.”
“Is that a challenge?”
He rubs the spot he pinched your ass and shakes his head. “I already have one point… Doubt you’re gonna catch up.”
“You could nut twice,” you suggest. Then you turn your head and shake your ass in his face. “For me? So we’re even.”
Jungkook bites his lips. “Then it wouldn’t be a completion.”
“I hate losing.”
“So do I.” Jungkook then wastes no time. He digs himself in you again, flicking his tongue at all the right times and places. 
You groan, hating how much you love this. You try to focus. After pumping him a few times, you stuff his cock in your mouth. Moaning from how thick he is, you suck him off. Your cheeks begin to feel a little sore after a few minutes, but by then his dick is up. He’s as hard as can be and you can even feel his veins come out more and more. Every time you pull his cock out, you make sure to be as loud as you can. The pop sound makes Jungkook’s blood rush to his dick and the way you suck him so sloppy and hard only reminds him of the time you did this in his car. That night, Jungkook had never felt more attracted to you. 
Your jealousy had consumed his every thought for days after. 
Just like that, Jungkook’s stomach twitches. He feels a rush and it goes straight from his dick and out.
Like a loser, Jungkook cums and whimpers loudly. 
“F-fuck yes. Holy shit, ___.. Just like that… Mhmm,” his breath hitches. “Fuck!”
Lips pressed against his dick, you let his cum spill on your face. Mostly, it hits your nose bridge and your upper lip. You shift off of Jungkook and kneel in front of him. He gulps, watching you with longing eyes. You stick your tongue out, bring your fingers to where his cum landed and taste it. You lick your lips and swallow with a cute moan. 
“Yummy.”
He hisses, and immediately takes you by the waist. You giggle, unable to stop it from becoming a laugh. “Did that turn you on, pookie?”
Jungkook glares at you, swiping a bit of his cum with his thumb. Without warning, he then shoves his thumb into your mouth. As you suck, he cups the rest of his hand around your jaw and ravishes at your beauty. 
A layer of sweat makes you shine, and the strands of your hair on your forehead never made you look so beautiful to him before. Your lips are perfect—puffy and tainted with his cum. Your eyes—god, your eyes… They’re smiling at him and he swears he has never felt his heart flutter like this ever. 
As you sit on top of his dick, you roll your hips against it. When you do this, both of you watch it happen. You lean back, planting your hands on each side of his legs. Jungkook watches as your folds drag and split open against his cock. You can’t help but let out hitched breathes as you take in the feeling of his member. How his veins feel against you. How his soft skin feels as you soak it with your wetness.. All of it. 
All of him. 
“You like that, hmm? You like grinding on my cock with your pussy all wet?” He pries, turning up his dirty talk. “Come on, baby… You know how I like it, right? Why don’t you be a good girl and put it in? Sink into it like the little cockslut you are… For me?”
You moan, hissing his name. “Jungkook, shut the fuck up. Just enjoy this.”
As punishment, you rub yourself on him harder. Each roll of your hips has more pressure and his dick feels like it’s going to explore. He watches, hating you more and more as his head turns red. You hump his cock, moaning at the sensation.
“Holy shit,” Jungkook whines. “I’m not gonna last even if you ride me.”
“Loser.”
He chuckles, too lazy to put up a fight. “Let’s go doggy, please.”
You think about it. “Beg for it.”
“Very funny.” Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He tosses you over and gets on his knees. You arch your back and get taken aback when Jungkook swiftly places a pillow under your stomach. You turn back to give him a confused look. 
“You might cramp.” 
Huffing, you bite back. “I won’t cramp. You’re gonna nut before I cramp.”
He rolls his eyes at you and tells you to shut up. You bite your bottom lip, even more excited and eager to feel him. Doggy style isn’t your favourite… But for some reason, it feels hot. Doing this with Jungkook makes your mind spin and you aren’t sure if your playful remarks are masking how nervous you are. Underneath your teasing, you have no idea how you’re doing or saying any of these things. How are you even doing this with him right now? It’s fucking wild. 
“Gonna put it in now,” Jungkook’s voice sounds a little parched at this point. “If you cream my dick, can I film it?”
His question catches you by surprise.
“Your face wouldn’t be in it… And y-you don’t even have to say yes. I just… I miss you sometimes and I think about fucking you a lot so a video would be—”
“I trust you,” you say, flipping to face him. “Honestly? I’ll film a bit of it. Bet it’ll get you off in the future.” Then, you reach over his nightstand and swipe on his phone to the camera icon. You hold it and press record. Jungkook smirks and you zoom into his face. 
“Cute,” you laugh. 
Again, Jungkook rolls his eyes but loves every moment of this. You go back on all fours and hold the camera out. It captures half of your face, a bit of your boobs, and your ass. Jungkook places himself at your rear. You watch from the screen as Jungkook spits on his dick before he pushes himself inside you. He thrusts a few times before you let out a moan. 
You bite your lip for the camera and let a giggle escape in between Jungkook’s thrusts. His breathing gets heavy as he picks up the pace and fucks you harder. 
“J-Jungkook,” you whimper. 
“Louder,” he commands as he fucks you. You close your eyes, taking in how good he feels inside you. He’s throbbing. He’s so fucking big.
“Oh my god, Jungkook! Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder! Please, please, please!”
“Say my name,” Jungkook growls. “Say it louder.” 
“Fuck me,” you ignore his request. “You’re so big. I’m so fucking lucky. I love it. I love your cock so much!”
He slaps your ass. 
“Say my fucking name.” Jungkook pushes himself deeper into you, taking his time doing so. You hate how slow it feels now. “Whose making you feel this way? You’re so wet taking my cock in. Don’t be a bad girl… Are you a bad girl?”
“N-no,” you cry, feeling each thrust intensify.
“What are you then? My little slut? My fucking cock hungry slut? You won’t even say my name… You’re just a dirty bad girl. Fucking disrespectful at this point.”
“No, I’m not!” you feel tears begin to jerk in. “I love your cock too much to disrespect it—I,” you catch your breath, “I’m not a dirty bad girl!”
“What are you then? Because if you were a good girl, you’d say my fucking name… Say it. Be a good girl and say whose fucking cock you’re going to cream.”
“J-Jungkook!”
“Louder.” He pauses, leaving his cock to twitch inside you. 
“Please… Fuck me so good I cream your cock…”
“No. My name. Say my fucking name—”
“Oh my god, Jungkook!”
He smirks.  
Jungkook loves this so much. It does more than feed his ego—it ignites it.
He loves the way you say his name. He loves the way you call for him and how soft your tone gets when the sentence gets to his name. He absolutely fucking loves it.
“Yes, yes, yes!” you sob as he continues to fuck you. He fucks you rough, sloppy, and messy. You feel his dick slip in and out so easily that the friction is pure pleasure. 
“Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook,” you chant. “I’m not a good girl—I’m just…”
“You’re what?”
“I’m your girl,” you exhale. “R-right?”
Jungkook loses it. 
He fucking loses his mind.
Hastly, he leans over and grabs your tits. He fucks himself into you more and more, while biting your ear and kissing your neck. You moan and whimper, watching how hot it all looks on camera. Jungkook then rides his orgasm, not leaving you behind. He takes his phone from your hands and begins to film himself fucking you. The camera captures his dick going in and out of your pussy. How your ass bounces each time it hits his pelvis. It captures his breathy moans and his hushed, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” 
“J-Jungkook—I’m gonna cum! Oh my god, oh my god.”
And you do.
You cream his dick. As he pulls in and out of you, the camera catches your creamy release on his dick. 
It doesn’t take much after that. He isn’t sure if it’s just the heat of the moment or the fact that your brain is all fucked out by now—it doesn’t matter. The words that escaped your lips were enough. Jungkook cums hard and loud. He groans, hissing as he spills himself. You gasp when you feel his cock pull out of you harshly. Jungkook slips his one hand under you and flips you on your back. As you lay there, you watch as he pumps himself. He then aims his squirts of cum at your tits, and films as they land over your nipples. His breath is shakey from the relief and tiresome act and yours is the same. Except, you can’t help but let out a lewd giggle. 
Holy fuck, this was such a workout.
Like earlier, you take your finger and swipe some of his cum off your breast. Bringing it to your lips, you lick it and smile sweetly at him. He chuckles as he films it and you laugh. Really, you laugh for real. Then he laughs and offers you high-5. 
You laugh even harder, especially as you recall this being your reward. Even though it’s childish, you accept his gesture and feel special. Slamming your hand onto his, you lock them together and tug him towards you. He ends the recording just before he collapses on you. 
After all that, finally, you two share a kiss. 
A deep, soft, and much-needed kiss. 
The addiction to you was no different than an adrenaline junkie getting ready to jump off a cliff. No, there was no turning back. 
Your lips were addictive. The sweetness of everything your body would give him—it was like a fucking reward. Every saliva exchange, every drip from your pussy, to every tear shed while he digs himself deeper and deeper into you… He wants them all. 
As sick as it sounds, he’d lick it all up just to have you in him even more. Just to be close to you. Just to be closer. 
Every inch of you, he wants to devour. 
Like a starved man, he’d fall to his knees and beg for an ounce of kindness. A chance to satisfy you—a simple kiss, deepened by the second. Hands intertwined as you spread your legs for him as he places himself in between. 
As he leans his forehead against yours, he sneaks in a few pecks. “I can’t believe we have a sex tape.”
You roll your eyes. “Perv.” 
“You consented,” he sings happily. “Do you want me to delete it?”
You shake your head as he makes himself comfortable. “No… Send it to me later though. I miss you sometimes too.” 
A hearty chuckle escapes his lips as he snuggles into your embrace. You wrap your arms around him. Jungkook digs his face into his favourite spot—aside from your pussy—the cook of your neck. 
Sometimes. 
You miss him sometimes?
That’s a funny way of saying always. 
The muffled sound of music blasting downstairs and people chatting becomes evident. Yet, you two stay silent. Laying together, fingers and legs intertwined. Naked. 
When was it ever this easy? Why did this feel so right? Being with Jungkook has never been difficult—but when was it like this? When did things change? The sudden realization of the words you said while you two were intimate hit you. Were you really his girl? Did you want to be? Would he accept you if you asked?
Not only that but—when did you… When has it…
When did this begin?
These feelings.
There’s a tightness in your chest you can’t explain. Something that has been around for a while now. Long enough that you don’t remember when it first occurred and began to glow whenever he was around. What the fuck is up with that? 
As he fucked you tonight, that’s all you felt. Your heart was glowing. The closeness with him—regardless of how nasty—it was so special. It felt so good and like nothing you’ve ever felt. As you trace random things on his back with your nails, you hear him murmur, “mhmm… Yup. I love it when you do this, ___.”
It startles you.
When did you begin doing this? Being so intimate with him? Scratching his back, drawing hearts with your fingernails… When did this all happen? He says it like this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. Then, it gets hot. Suddenly, you notice how sweaty you two are and how it’s way too comfortable in his bed with him. You sit yourself up, causing him to follow. 
“I’m glad you came.”
“Pun intended?”
Jungkook pinches your cheeks and presses a kiss on your nose. “Whatever you want.”
You shove him away and get up from his bed. At least, you attempt to. 
Your legs feel shaky. He quickly holds you by the waist and catches your stumble. Looking up at him, you huff. “Look at what you did!”
“What?” he panics. 
“Jungkook, I can’t fucking walk!” You begin to freak out. “How am I supposed to go downstairs and act normal? Yuna is gonna ask so many questions and—”
“Relax,” Jungkook sets you down on his bed. “I got you.”
You sit and pout as he heads to his bathroom. When he returns, he has a black shirt and pants on. He holds a damp towel and collects your clothes off the floor. Jungkook kneels in front of you and begins to pat wipe your sweaty skin. First, your forehead, neck, and then he uses a face towel to wipe his cum off your breast. Then, he continues to pat dry your arms and in between your legs. 
Without exchanging words, he helps dress you. The entire time, he was careful and used a soft tone whenever he did speak. For the most part, he just looked at you lovingly. That look in his eyes… You know in your heart you will never forget. 
When you’re all dressed, a good enough time has passed for you to recover. Not fully, but just enough. Jungkook helps you get up and you hiss at the initial soreness. 
“Round two?” 
You hit his chest and roll your eyes. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”
“Insanely hot?”
“Whatever you want.”
He isn’t sure what to do. 
You laugh it off, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know how. As you two look into each other's eyes, he feels his heart race. 
He should just say it, right? It’s easy. 
Spit it out.
___, do you want to go out with me?
Or should he do a whole confession?
___, we’ve been doing this for a while now… And I think I’ve grown an unhealthy attachment to you. I miss you when I’m not with you. When I’m with you, I never want the moment to end. Being close to you has to be my favourite part of living. 
But when he opens his mouth to speak—
“Should we go downstairs? I need water.” 
He blinks. 
“Y-yeah,” Jungkook reaches for the door. Then, as he turns the door knob, he stops himself. “One more kiss, please.”
Without a fight, you tiptoe and kiss him. Smiling into the kiss, he leans more into it and gropes your ass. You hit his chest playfully, signaling him to pull away. With great sadness, he does so. 
“I’ll go out first.”
Your words cut him deeper than a knife. 
Right.
You two aren’t dating.
You two are just fucking—in secret, at that. 
“Why can’t we leave together?” he asks, sounding a little desperate. “You said it yourself. You don’t really care if people know or not… I doubt anyone will even care.”
Shrugging, you nod. “Sure,” you answer him. “I’m not trying to hide us or anything… I just don’t really want to be questioned… But, considering I can’t really walk right now…”
He laughs, feeling like he saved himself from sadness. 
“Can we hold hands?”
You give him a face. “Don’t push it.”
“But you said—”
“I was drunk!”
Jungkook laughs, as he opens the door. Stepping out together, he locks his bedroom door as you continue bantering. Pushing past everyone in the hall, he can’t help but feel a sense of relief. 
It was a small thing. Leaving the room together and even suggesting to hold hands—it was a long shot but here he was.
With you.
Lingering fingertips and all. 
As you two head down the stairs, you’re immediately greeted by the smell of alcohol and sweaty bodies. Jungkook leans into your ear and whispers, “ahh… See? We’re blending right in.” 
He’s talking about smelling like sweaty sex. 
You bring your hands to your face, covering yourself and the shyness that rushes to your cheeks. He laughs and you hit his chest for the nth time tonight. 
“Why are you covering your face? It’s like I didn’t just see you naked. Like I didn’t fuck you—”
“Oh my god!” you cover his mouth and look around to see if anyone heard what he said so bluntly. “I know I said I don’t care if people knew but can you relax? Don’t be so proud you fucked me.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Jungkook says sincerely. “Do you have any idea how admired you are?”
“So I’m a prize?” you laugh. “What a joke.”
Jungkook gawks at you. 
“Do you have any idea how hard I’d try to win you if this was the fucking hunger games? I’d die for you.”
You snort. “Did you even read the series—”
“No,” he snickers. “But you get what I mean, right?”
“Not really…” you trail, turning your head in an attempt to avoid eye contact. You aren’t too sure where this conversation was heading and perhaps you aren’t ready for whatever he has to say next. “Can we—”
“I won’t get all gushy and all because you’re going to get all self-conscious and then retort by saying I have post-sex feelings—but just know you’re it. The standard. A prize. Endgame.. All of it. You’re it.”
Too stunned to speak, your lips curve into a small smile. “Jungkook—”
“___!”
You and Jungkook turn your heads and see Yuna approaching with Taehyung. She smiles brightly, practically throwing herself at you. You catch her, hug her, and tilt your head in confusion as Taehyung whispers something in Jungkook’s ear. 
Jungkook lowers his gaze at you, gulping as Taehyung finishes his exchange and steps away. Then, Taehyung offers you a short lived smile. 
“Hey, ___. How are you?” Taehyung’s voice is calm and sweet… It’s so opposite from how suspicious he’s acting.
“Good…” you say with your eyebrow raised. “What’s going on?”
Yuna tugs on your arm. “Nothing!” She sneers at Taehyung and gives him a warning look. “Way to be discrete.”
“You said to follow your lead! You aren’t doing much so I—”
“You’re the worst partner in crime ever!” Yuna scolds him.
You shake your head at the two, feeling at home with their bickering. Taehyung and Yuna act like such a married couple most of the time they’re together—you were used to it at this point. In between their bickering, you glance at Jungkook who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. 
For some reason, you can’t make out what the look on his face is. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look sad either. He wasn’t angry… He looked… Eager? Worried? In agony?
“You okay?” you ask, moving away from Yuna and to Jungkook’s side. He slides his arms around your waist. You let him. 
Pulling you close, his lips shape into a pout. You cup his cheeks and squish them together. “Jungkook?”
“Wanna go back upstairs?” he suggests, resting his face on the palm of your hands. “Wanna get out of here? I’m suddenly not in the mood.”
“To what? Party?”
“To be anywhere without you.”
“But I’m here.” You reason.
He shakes his head, insisting something else. “But not you’re here with me… You know?”
You do know. 
“S-sure,” you agree even though a part of you feels hesitant. Not that you don’t want too.. More like you’re nervous and afraid of what it’ll lead to. More feelings? More sex? You don’t think you can go another round. “Where should we—”
“___ baby!” 
Your head turns to your name being called by a familiar voice. 
From the corner of your eyes, you see Taehyung and Yuna exchange disappointed looks. Just as you’re about to ask what’s going on, Seokjin and Eunwoo approach you. 
“Eunwoo,” you greet warmly. You step away from Jungkook and hug him. 
“You haven’t been answering my texts… Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” he whines like a child. You laugh lightly and tiptoe to ruffle his hair. Though it’s only been a few months, he hasn’t changed. He still acts like a lost puppy. “Jungkook, what’s up?”
Jungkook dabs Eunwoo up with low effort. You give him a confused look, wondering why he was acting all sulky all of the sudden. From what you recall, these two are friends. As Eunwoo greets Yuna and Taehyung, Seokjin greets you rather drunkenly. Then, he excuses himself to piss. Everyone rolls their eyes at his behaviour but let him do what he needs to.
“Can we talk?” Eunwoo asks bluntly. His question breaks the ice, but wins a wide-eyes from you all.
You tilt your head. “What about?”
“Us.”
Instantly, Jungkook feels like he’s being punched in the face. No, he wishes he was being punched in the face. Being punched in the face would be more enjoyable than standing here in between you and Eunwoo.
He has only tried a handful of times to ask and understand what happened between you and Eunwoo, but he never pressed it. Right now, he wishes he had. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t feel so threatened right now. But he didn’t and he does. Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying his best to mask his feelings. 
Was there still something between you and Eunwoo? Were you still texting him? Is Eunwoo who you’re with when you’re not with him?
All these thoughts and self-doubt flood Jungkook’s mind. 
It sinks and his insecurities make a home as you nod politely and follow Eunwoo away from the crowd. Away from him.
Not even a goodbye?
As you slip away, Jungkook sighs. How did you do that? He feels disappointed and hurt—offended even. How dare you pick someone else over him? Though no feelings between you two were expressed or exchanged in a way where commitment and exclusivity would be the trade-off—still, this wasn’t fair.
How could you walk away? Like it was easy? Like you weren’t just with him seconds ago?
It aches.
It hurts so bad that it even his anger is weak. 
No matter how much he wants to—he can’t blame you. 
He never asked you out.
“I like the way you look at her,” Yuna comforts Jungkook by patting his back. 
“Huh?” Jungkook snaps out of his thoughts. “What do you mean? Look at who?”
Yuna nudges him and gives him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me,’ look. Then, she explains herself. “I always knew you were nice. Taehyung talks about the shit you put up with and the things you do to please people… Like how you joined the team again after they begged you to even though you felt burnt out… How you always limit your drinking so you’re sober enough to walk ___ home. How you come over and take care of her when she’s piss drunk and probably gave you a hard time—”
Jungkook’s eyes get shifty. “How do you know about that—”
“Doesn’t matter. She didn’t tell me shit, though. She doesn’t know I know and we’re going to keep it that way.” Yuna pokes Jungkook’s chest. 
He furrows his brows. “Why does everything have to be a secret when it comes to ___?”
Yuna doesn’t have an answer for him. Instead, she continues her little speech.
“You’re a nice guy… But to ___, you’re kind. It’s in your gaze. It’s in the way you always offer yourself to her. It’s in the way you’re her friend above all else—I’m so thankful you’re who you are when you’re with her. You look at her like she’s your entire world… I don’t know if you even know that—but that’s how you look at her. You look at her and it’s… It’s like she’s the only person in the world.”
Jungkook hates the words Yuna speaks. Partly because they’re all true and partly because he doesn’t know what to do after. Yuna squeezes his shoulders and he feels like he could cry. 
“Can you tell her I’ll be in my room? Waiting for her?” Jungkook pleas.
Yuna nods and excuses herself to find you in the crowd. You’re throwing your head back, laughing at whatever Eunwoo whispered in your ear. When Yuna approaches you and passes the message, you find Jungkook’s eyes from across the room. 
You smile at him and wave. 
He stands still, not knowing what to do. Before you know it, you watch him pick up his feet and head back upstairs. He doesn’t look back.
Yuna did tell you he’d be in his room… So that’s probably where he’s headed. In your mind, you make a mental note to go upstairs and figure things out with Jungkook in ten minutes. 
You’ll give Eunwoo ten more minutes... The rest of the night can be for Jungkook. 
Upstairs, Jungkook sits on the edge of his messy bed. Knees to his chest, he thinks about how fucked up everything got in a matter of moments. Did it really just take one conversation with your ex to lose you as quickly as he got you? Is this the reality of being a fuckbuddy?
He hates it. 
Jungkook clenches his fits, recalling the words Taehyung said to him. 
“Eunwoo’s tryna get back together with ___… I don’t know why it’s so important to Yuna but she said she tried to talk him out of it. Yuna said to get ___ out of here? Again, I don’t know why… I thought Eunwoo was Yuna’s favourite for ___ but I’m guessing not anymore…”
It was comforting to know that Yuna was on Jungkook’s side… But did it matter if you weren’t? You’re downstairs, talking and probably making plans to get back together with your ex.
Meanwhile, Jungkook sits in his room and waits until his eyes betray him. They flutter shut, falling asleep to the faint sound of your laugh downstairs and to the hope of you fulfilling a promise you never made.
In the morning, Jungkook wakes up and cries. He cries out of frustration and hurt. His heart feels heavy, like it could collapse and be broken. He has never felt so betrayed before.
And it’s pathetic because even then—especially then—he still waits for you.
2K notes · View notes
httpdwaekki · 10 months ago
Text
milky green | l.f.
summary: felix asks you to paint his nails
wc: 1.4k
warnings: nothing, just the usual, fluff w alot of pet names lol
a/n: guys, i gotta be honest, really got lost in the sauce with this one LMAO. definitely did not need to make it as long as i did but we're here now lol. i'm gonna make this a mini series w all the boys, i'm thinking hyunjin or han next. but regardless, i hope you all enjoy this one. remember to drink water, take ur meds and ur loved <3
my library
chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | seungmin | jeongin
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(pictures not mine! credit to owner!)
you were sitting in your living room, nail polishes strewn about, as you watched your boyfriend inspect each one. “woah, these are so pretty, angel.” he cooed in fascination. you giggled at his awe, “right?” he leans back, a light sage green nail polish in hand. “can i use this one?” he asks, holding it up.
“of course,” you smiled. “do you want me to paint them for you?” you ask. his eyes light up, with a smile so bright it almost blinds you. ”yes please.” he says, handing you the bottle. you set the bottle down, next to the base and top coat and grab a cuticle stick and trimmer.
“i’m gonna clean up your cuticles, if that’s okay?” you ask, putting your hand out for him. he nods eagerly, putting his left hand in yours. “what does that mean though?” he asked, confused look painted across his features. 
“so this,” you hold up the skinny wood stick, “ is called a cuticle stick.” you lay his hand on your thigh before showing him your hand. “you take it and you softly push back your cuticle.” you say, taking the stick and lightly pushing your own cuticle back.
“then, you take this,” you hold up the almost tweezer-like object, “and you trim the cuticle you just pushed back.” you explained, carefully trimmed the pushed back skin. “woah,” he carefully watches your technique. “why do you do that?” he asks.
“just makes the nail polish go on smoother and your nails look nicer.” you shrug, wiping off your nail, holding it up to him. “ta da!” you smile. he grabs your hand, and examined your work. “woah, that looks so nice, baby.” you giggle, grabbing his hand again,
“okay, okay, your turn bub.” picking up the stick you start pushing back the first one. “let me know if i hurt you, okay?” you glance up and catch him nodding with a soft smile on his lips. you’re intensely focused on the task at hand, your tongue sticking out slightly, glasses slowly slipping down your nose.
so focused in fact, you didn’t notice felix taking out his phone and snapping a sneaky picture of you. as you switched hands, your glasses were barely on your face. felix reached up and gently pushed them back up the bridge of your nose. “oh!” you squeak in surprise. your face heating up slightly in embarrassment. “thank you.” you murmured, hiding your smile by getting back to work.
but felix wasn’t gonna let that slide, he taps your chin, forcing your attention back to him. “hm?” you hum, face still warm, looking into his boba-colored eyes. “you’re so cute when you’re focused, you know that?” he asks, a smug smile painted across his face.
you groan, “felix!” his smile widens, “what, can i not appreciate how cute my beautiful girl is?” he asks, feigning innocence. “you’re being cheeky, mister lee.” you squint your eyes at him. he giggled, grabbing your face, placing kisses all over it.
“lix!” you exclaim, giggling, “come on,” you pushed him back slightly, “ i’m trying to run a business here!” you fake annoyance. he immediately put his hands up in surrender. “oh! you’re right i’m so sorry miss l/n.” he clears his throat, giving you his hand to continue your work.
“thank you.” you huff, before giggling and placing a kiss on his freckled cheek, causing a smile to bloom on his face. you get back to pushing back his cuticles and then trimming them, cleaning them carefully.
“okay, base coat time.” you smile, placing the previous tools on the table, grabbing a clear bottle from the table, giving it a quick shake. you gently grab his hand getting to work on the freshly trimmed nails. as you finish the first hand, you carefully lay it on your thigh before grabbing his other hand, repeating the process.
“alright baby boy,” laying his hand next to the previous one, “you gotta let them dry for a bit then i’ll put the color on okay?” switching out the base coat for the soft green bottle. you glance over, catching the slight blush, dusting his freckled cheeks.
“thank you.” he smiled, blowing on his nails. a shy smile made its way onto your lips as you got the color ready. “did you want a design or anything?” you asked, looking at the rainbow of colors spread out in front of you.
“whatever you wanna do bub.” he responded, continuing to lightly blow on his nails. “ however, i wouldn’t be opposed to a flower.” he said, glancing over with an unsuspecting look on his face.
you giggle at his antics, preparing the other colors to do a design or two. you grab one of his hands, mindful of the potentially wet paint. you lightly tap the top of his nails, checking the dryness. once feeling the smooth dry surface, you grab the green bottle once more, shaking the bottle before applying the color.
once you finish applying the color, you show felix your work, gauging his reaction. “well, what do you think angel?” you ask softly, examining his features. a small smile made it’s way onto his face before he shoots forward, placing a kiss on your lips.
you let out a noise of surprise, pushing him back slightly. “lix!” you chastise him, “your nails, be careful!” swiftly and carefully grabbing his hand, making sure the polish was okay. letting out a sigh of relief seeing the nail polish in the same condition as when you painted them.
you look up, catching the pout on your pretty boy’s lips. “what’s wrong?” you asked, matching his pout. “you didn’t kiss me back.” his frown deepened, looking at you with his boba eyes. you giggle, “i’m sorry bub.” you leaned over, placing a hand on his cheek, placing your lips on his. you feel his lips curl up into a smile, as he deepens the kiss.
“okay, okay” you giggle against his lips. “let me finish this and then you can kiss me all you want.” you pull back, thumb brushing his soft skin. he playfully rolled his eyes. “fine.” smirk making its way onto his lips before he stole one last kiss. you narrow your eyes when he pulls away, “you’re on thin ice, mister lee.” you jokingly threaten, pointing your finger in his direction.
he giggles,”okay okay come on.” putting his hands in front of you, allowing you to finish your work.
you diligently and precisely finish two coats of the soft green color, allowing the fresh paint to dry. you start on the design, deciding on a simple sunflower (duh) doing 5 dots in a circle of a bright yellow and a mellow brown dot in the middle. 
you grab his middle finger, bringing it close to your face, getting to work on the delicate design, tongue poking out once again as your focus intensifies. you hold your breath as you place the first few dots, releasing it once you pull back his finger, admiring your work. 
satisfied with your progress you continue, placing the last few dots, finishing the design. you inspect your work one last time before showing the design to felix. he’s engrossed in an anime playing on your tv, not even realizing you finished your design.
“lix.” you say, grabbing his attention immediately. he whips his head in your direction, a hum falling from his lips. “yes, bub?” you gently push his hand into his vision. a soft gasp leaves his lips. “jagiya,” he breathes, “it looks so good.” he looks over, eyes bright and filled with love. 
your face warm once more, “thank you.” you mumble, a shy smile on your lips. he takes notice of your timidness, places his hands back on your thighs, cautious of the wet paint this time, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. he smiles, looking back at his nails. “my jagi’s so talented huh?” he asks himself.
“thank you angel, i love them. “ you nod, smiling, “good, i’m glad you like them.” you grab another clear bottle, giving it a shake before grabbing his hand, painting the last layer of paint, sealing in the color and your artwork.
once you finish, you place his hands on your thighs one last time. “okay, just let them dry for a couple minutes then you’re all set. “ you smiled, tucking a bit of his hair behind his ear. he smiles widely, nodding his head.
you pick up his hands, laying your legs across his lap, placing his hands back in their respective places. he grins at you, giving your leg a loving squeeze.
and that’s how the rest of your night goes, you relaxing next to your favorite boy, watching anime, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
*feedback is always appreciated as are likes/reblogs!*
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moon-lit-petal · 30 days ago
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From Chaos to Comfort Pt 4
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George Weasley x Fem!Hufflepuff!Reader
Summery: George becomes acutely awear that sometimes, people aren't the biggest fans of his and Freds pranks.
Warnings: Enemies to lovers(?), angst, george fell hard and fast, I tried to do a slow burn but you can tell I gave up lol, also Y/N is a little mean to George ngl
Word Count: 3.9k
Notes: This is the last part I'm gonna do for this mini series lol, I said I didn't wanna make it too long and I got impatient sorry 😅 feel free to submit an ask if you wanna see me write about your favorite character!^-^
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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Days passed since the kiss, each one stretching into an eternity for Y/N. She found herself slipping into the familiar routines of her life—studying in the library, tending to her plants in the greenhouse, and spending time with her fellow Hufflepuffs—but the world felt different. Each time she entered a room, her heart raced at the thought of encountering George.
Avoiding him became a full-time job. She deliberately chose the far side of the Great Hall at meals, strategically positioned herself at the edge of the library, and spent countless evenings wandering the grounds, always making sure to steer clear of the Quidditch pitch where George and Fred often practiced.
Y/N’s feelings were a tangled mess, and she didn’t know how to sort through them. She was still angry at George for his part in the pranks, yet there was something undeniably magnetic about him. The memory of his warm lips against hers haunted her thoughts, a constant reminder of the connection they had shared. She felt both drawn to him and terrified of what that meant.
Meanwhile, George respected her need for space, though it pained him deeply. He watched her from a distance, his heart aching every time he caught a glimpse of her laughter with her friends or the way her brow furrowed in concentration as she read. Each day without her felt like a missed opportunity, and he longed for a chance to explain himself fully—to show her the depth of his feelings and how he was willing to change.
As the days turned into a week, their friends began to notice the tension in the air. Whispers started circulating among the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, with speculation running rampant about what had transpired in the library. “Did you see Y/N? She hasn’t spoken to George in days!” one student remarked. “I heard they had some sort of argument,” another added, eyes wide with intrigue.
Y/N could feel the pressure mounting, the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on her. It was hard to focus on her studies or enjoy time with her friends when every conversation seemed to pivot toward George and the kiss.
“You okay, Y/N?” one of her housemates asked during lunch, concern etched on their face. “You’ve seemed a bit off lately.”
Y/N forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine, just… busy with classes,” she replied, hoping to deflect further questioning. But deep down, she felt far from fine. The uncertainty of her feelings and the pressure of the rumors left her feeling more isolated than ever.
As she sat there, pushing her food around on her plate, she caught a glimpse of George across the hall. He was talking with Fred, laughter in his eyes, but the moment their gazes met, everything fell silent. George’s smile faltered, and for a brief moment, the world around them faded away.
Y/N’s heart raced, her pulse pounding in her ears. She quickly looked away, panic rising in her chest. She wasn’t ready to face him—not yet. The thought of addressing what happened between them felt insurmountable.
“I just need more time,” she whispered to herself, feeling overwhelmed.
But deep down, Y/N knew she couldn’t avoid him forever. The connection they had forged—though fraught with confusion and anger—was real, and it demanded acknowledgment. As the days wore on, the conflict inside her grew louder, urging her to confront her feelings head-on.
Back at the Gryffindor table, George felt the weight of the silence that enveloped them whenever Y/N was near. He wanted nothing more than to bridge the gap between them, to reach out and tell her that he was still there, still waiting. But he didn’t want to pressure her; he wanted her to come to him when she was ready.
With each passing day, George resolved to find the right moment to speak to her again. He just hoped that when that moment came, Y/N would be ready to listen. The thought of her staying in turmoil was unbearable, and he silently vowed to do whatever it took to show her that he was sincere in his feelings.
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The library was quiet, the only sounds being the rustle of pages and the occasional creak of the wooden shelves. Y/N found herself wandering through the aisles, drawn to the familiar haven of books and solitude. But tonight, her mind was elsewhere—she was here for George.
After days of avoidance, she had finally mustered the courage to seek him out. It felt like a leap into the unknown, but she needed to confront the turmoil inside her. With each step toward the back of the library, her heart raced, anticipation and anxiety twisting together in her chest.
As she rounded the corner, she spotted him at a table, hunched over a stack of books, his usual grin replaced by a look of deep concentration. He seemed lost in thought, and for a moment, Y/N hesitated, unsure if she should interrupt. But the weight of her unresolved feelings urged her forward.
“George?” she called softly, her voice breaking the serene atmosphere.
He looked up, surprise flashing across his face. “Y/N,” he said, quickly sitting up straighter. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Taking a deep breath, Y/N stepped closer, her hands nervously twisting together. “I… I wanted to talk.”
George nodded, his expression serious as he gestured to the empty chair across from him. “Of course. Please, sit.”
As she settled into the chair, Y/N felt the tension crackle between them. She knew what she needed to say, but the words felt heavy on her tongue. “I’m sorry for how I reacted the other day,” she began, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I was angry and confused, and I took it out on you.”
George’s eyes softened, and he leaned forward slightly. “It’s okay. I understand. I never meant to hurt you.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I should have stopped the pranks a long time ago. Fred can be relentless, but I should have done more to protect you. I’m really sorry.”
The sincerity in his voice touched her, and Y/N felt some of the tension begin to ease. “I know it’s not all your fault, but I guess I just… I didn’t want to feel vulnerable. I’ve spent so much time hiding from everyone, and your pranks made me feel exposed.”
“I get that,” George replied, his tone earnest. “I didn’t realize how deeply it affected you until it was too late. I promise, I’m done with the pranks for good. I just want to be someone you can trust.”
Y/N took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and lingering uncertainty. “I want to believe you, George. I really do.” She hesitated, her heart pounding as she continued. “I’ve started to feel something for you too, but it scares me. I don’t want to be hurt again.”
George’s expression shifted, hope flickering in his eyes. “I’d never want to hurt you, Y/N. I care about you, more than I can put into words. I’ve fallen for you, and I’m willing to be patient, to show you that I’m not like that.”
She felt a warmth spreading through her, a cautious hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way forward. “I appreciate that,” she said, her voice softening. “I just need time to process everything. To learn to trust you.”
“I can wait,” George assured her, his sincerity washing over her like a soothing balm. “I’m here whenever you’re ready.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of their conversation settling around them. Y/N felt the walls she had built start to crumble, a flicker of connection igniting between them. The tension that had once felt suffocating began to transform into something hopeful, something worth exploring.
“I’ve always admired your strength, you know,” George said quietly, breaking the silence. “You have this quiet way of standing your ground, even when it feels like the whole world is against you. It’s something I really respect.”
Y/N felt her cheeks heat at his words, a shy smile creeping onto her lips. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”
With that, they shared a moment of understanding, two hearts gradually opening up to the possibility of something new. The fear still lingered in the corners of Y/N’s mind, but George’s presence felt grounding, like a promise of support amid the chaos.
As the night wore on, they talked about everything and nothing, laughter gradually returning to their conversation. The bond between them began to shift, transforming the tension of the past into a tentative but hopeful future. And while Y/N knew she still had a long way to go in learning to trust, she felt ready to take the first steps alongside George, together navigating the path toward something more.
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With each passing day, Y/N and George began to carve out a new rhythm together. Their interactions were a delicate dance of tentative steps and unspoken emotions, as they gradually rebuilt the trust that had been shattered. It felt both exhilarating and terrifying, but each moment brought them closer to something that felt real.
The soft evening light filtered through the library windows, casting golden hues across the tables and shelves. George sat beside Y/N, his gaze flickering from his notes to her profile as she read, oblivious to his attention. He didn’t even know how they’d ended up studying together—somehow, after their kiss by the lake, their paths seemed to cross more naturally, as if the universe itself wanted them to be near each other.
The silence between them was comfortable, with only the occasional sound of a page turning or a quill scratching across parchment. Still, George couldn’t shake the flutter in his stomach, a quiet thrill every time their shoulders brushed as they leaned closer to share notes.
He watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, her brow furrowing as she scribbled a correction on her page. Without thinking, he whispered, “You look adorable when you’re concentrating, you know.”
Y/N glanced up, a hint of a blush rising in her cheeks. She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “And you look ridiculous when you pretend to know anything about Potions.”
George chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guilty as charged. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to sit here with you.”
Her cheeks reddened even more, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, the laughter fading into something softer. It was like they were both testing the waters of this new closeness, careful not to push too far but unable to ignore the magnetism between them.
Finally, she broke the gaze, focusing on her parchment again. “You know, I didn’t think you’d be interested in spending so much time in the library.”
“Neither did I,” George admitted, leaning closer. “But maybe it’s growing on me.” He glanced down at her notes, nodding as if he understood. “Or maybe it’s just the company.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re terrible at studying, you know.”
“Ah, well, maybe you can teach me a thing or two,” he replied, his voice light but his expression earnest.
A comfortable quiet settled over them again, but this time, George felt a warm satisfaction. There was a new ease between them, a budding friendship colored by the thrill of something more. And though neither of them said it out loud, they both felt it—the steady pull drawing them closer, bit by bit.
In the corridors of Hogwarts, small encounters became charged with electricity. There were days when Y/N would walk past George, their shoulders brushing just enough to send a thrill through her. She’d glance over her shoulder, catching his eye for a split second before her heart raced and she looked away, a smile tugging at her lips. George would return the gaze, his expression softening, a silent understanding passing between them.
In Charms class one afternoon, Y/N found herself seated beside George once again. It had become a familiar arrangement, as if some invisible force always pulled them into each other’s orbit. Today, Professor Flitwick was lecturing on wand techniques, and although Y/N tried to focus on his instructions, the warmth of George beside her was impossible to ignore.
As Professor Flitwick turned to demonstrate on the blackboard, George leaned in close, his voice a soft murmur. “Reckon he’s going to make us try that spell next?” he asked, his breath tickling her ear.
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, her heart beating a little faster. “Probably,” she replied, forcing herself to sound steady. “Though I don’t think you’re paying attention enough to pull it off.” She smirked, her own quiet bravery surprising her.
George’s eyes sparkled, his grin widening. “Cheeky,” he whispered back, pretending to take exaggerated notes in response. His arm brushed hers, and though it was barely a touch, it sent a jolt through her.
A moment later, both of them reached for the Charms textbook between them. Their fingers collided, lingering for just a second too long before she pulled back with a shy, “Sorry.”
But George didn’t flinch, his hand remaining steady on the book, his gaze warm and reassuring. “No need to apologize,” he replied softly, his voice carrying a gentle sincerity that made her heart flutter. “I don’t mind.”
The words lingered between them, heavy with an unspoken promise. Y/N dared a glance up at him, finding that his eyes held something deeper, something that made her wonder if he felt the same invisible pull she did. For the rest of the class, their hands would brush occasionally, and with each touch, the world around them seemed to fade just a little bit more.
In the library, their shared study sessions turned into something more. They’d sit close together, their heads bent over the same book, and George would occasionally let his arm rest against hers, a silent invitation. Y/N felt a mix of excitement and caution, her heart fluttering at the proximity. Each time she caught George looking at her, a warmth spread through her, though she quickly brushed it off as mere friendship.
“Are you always this distracted during study sessions?” he teased one day, his voice low, playful, yet filled with a sincerity that made her stomach flutter.
“I’m just trying to focus,” Y/N replied, trying to sound serious but failing as a smile broke through. “It’s hard when you keep talking.”
George leaned a little closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I could help you with that. Less talking, more studying?”
Y/N laughed, the sound light and free. “Maybe you should try it, then.”
Their shared moments were interspersed with lingering touches—George would hand her a book, their fingers brushing, and Y/N would feel a spark. Or he’d help her adjust her bag as they left class, his hand resting on her shoulder a beat longer than necessary. Each small interaction was filled with a weighty significance, and with every shared laugh or stolen glance, the connection between them deepened.
Yet, amid these moments of growing intimacy, Y/N remained guarded. She often found herself wrestling with the fear that she might be setting herself up for heartbreak again. There were flashes of doubt that crossed her mind, reminders of the pranks and the humiliation that had come before. Would George be able to prove he was more than just a prankster? Would he stay once the novelty wore off?
But George, ever patient, didn’t push her. He understood that trust couldn’t be rushed and was willing to wait for as long as it took. He knew he had to prove himself to her—not just with words but through actions that demonstrated his genuine care and respect for her.
One afternoon, they found themselves taking a leisurely stroll around the lake, the sun dipping low in the sky, painting everything in warm hues of orange and pink. The air was filled with the scent of autumn leaves and the distant sound of laughter from students playing Quidditch.
“Do you ever miss being just a regular student?” George asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.
“Sometimes,” Y/N admitted, glancing at him. “But I think I’m learning to appreciate the chaos.”
George chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s not all chaos, you know. Some of it’s… fun.”
“Fun for you, maybe,” she shot back, but there was no bite in her words, only a hint of teasing.
They reached the edge of the lake, and George picked up a small pebble, skipping it across the water. “What about this?” he asked. “Just you and me, no pranks, no chaos.”
Y/N smiled, feeling the warmth of the moment wash over her. “I like that idea.”
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in a breathtaking display of colors, they stood side by side, their shoulders almost touching, hearts racing in sync with the rhythm of the world around them.
In that tranquil moment, Y/N realized she was slowly starting to trust him, bit by bit. And though she still held reservations, the promise of something deeper began to bloom within her—a tentative but undeniable hope for what could be.
“George,” she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah?” he replied, glancing at her, his expression attentive.
Y/N took a breath, feeling the weight of her words. “I think I’m ready to see where this goes.”
A smile broke across George’s face, lighting up his features with genuine joy. “Really?” he asked, the hope in his voice unmistakable.
“Yeah,” she said, her heart racing. “But just take it slow, okay? I don’t want to rush into anything.”
“Absolutely,” he assured her, his voice steady and sincere. “We’ll take it at your pace.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over them, Y/N felt a new sense of clarity. She was ready to embrace this slow-burning romance, to explore the depths of their connection, and to finally allow herself to be vulnerable. And as they stood there, side by side, Y/N realized that she was no longer afraid of what lay ahead. With George by her side, she felt ready to step into the unknown, together.
As the days turned into weeks, Y/N and George settled into a rhythm that felt comfortable and genuine. Their relationship flourished in the quiet spaces they carved out for themselves—away from the prying eyes of Hogwarts, where they could truly be themselves without the weight of expectations or the shadow of past pranks.
The two of them often found solace in the nooks of the library or under the sprawling branches of the ancient trees around the Black Lake, where they would share laughter and secrets. George had traded in his mischievous pranks for thoughtful gestures that spoke volumes of his affection. He’d surprise Y/N with her favorite sweets from Honeydukes or bring her a rare book he thought she’d enjoy, his eyes lighting up with joy whenever she smiled.
On this particular evening, as the sun dipped low out of the sky, painting the horizon with shades of purple and blue, they found themselves sitting on the edge of the lake again. The air was crisp, the gentle lapping of the water creating a soothing backdrop to their conversation. The lake had become a safe space for the two, especially after dark. It was quiet, private, no one to disrupt them.
Y/N leaned back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the shimmering surface of the water. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m actually starting to enjoy being around you,” she teased, glancing sideways at George.
He chuckled, his face breaking into a warm smile. “You know, I take that as a huge compliment coming from you.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips. “Just don’t get used to it. I’m still cautious about all of this.”
George’s expression softened, and he turned to face her more fully. “I get it. Trust takes time, and I’m not going anywhere. I want to be the kind of guy you can count on.”
She nodded, her heart swelling with warmth at his sincerity. “I really appreciate that. You’ve been so patient with me, and it means a lot.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sounds being the rustling leaves and the distant chirping of birds settling in for the night. The sun’s last rays cast a golden glow around them, creating an intimate cocoon of warmth that made Y/N feel safe and cherished.
“Can I ask you something?” George said, breaking the quiet.
“Sure,” she replied, curiosity piquing.
“What’s been the biggest surprise for you in all of this?” He gestured between them, his expression serious.
Y/N took a moment to ponder. “Honestly? I think it’s how easy it is to be around you now. I was so caught up in the past—your pranks, my frustration—that I didn’t see the kind person behind it all. You’ve changed.”
George looked pleased, but he also seemed to be searching for something. “I’m glad to hear that, but I also want you to know that I’m still a bit of a prankster at heart. It’s just… I’ve learned when to tone it down.”
Y/N laughed softly. “You can be playful, just not at my expense, okay?”
“Deal,” he replied, grinning. Then he grew serious again, leaning closer. “But seriously, I want to show you that I’m not just some prank-loving fool. You’re important to me, and I want to be someone who makes you feel valued.”
“George…” she started, unsure of where her thoughts were leading.
But he interrupted her gently. “I know I’ve messed up in the past, but I want to make it right. I want to be a part of your world, Y/N.”
And just like that, all the walls she had built around her heart began to crumble. It was still a cautious step forward, but Y/N felt a wave of trust wash over her. The ache of past hurt didn’t disappear completely, but with George’s unwavering support, it became easier to envision a future without that burden.
“Okay,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s take this one day at a time.”
With that, George’s face broke into a wide grin, his joy contagious. “I can do that.”
They spent the rest of the evening basking in the warmth of their connection, sharing stories and dreams for the future. Each laugh and shared glance brought them closer, a sweet reminder that they were building something beautiful together—a foundation of trust, respect, and undeniable chemistry.
As the stars twinkle overhead, Y/N leaned against George’s shoulder, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. The weight of her past began to fade, replaced by a sense of hope for what lay ahead.
In that moment, with George by her side, she finally felt at ease, ready to embrace the unfolding journey of their relationship. Together, they were no longer just a quiet Hufflepuff and a mischievous Gryffindor; they were two souls discovering a deeper understanding of love, trust, and companionship—a new beginning filled with endless possibilities.
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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theyhavetakenovermylife · 8 months ago
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Love your bay children series! Can you please write how the bay turtles are as uncles and how their nephews and nieces are with them <3
Du skriver även jätte bra! Puss och kram
The Kids and Their Uncles (Fluff)
Bayverse!Turtles x reader
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A/N: I’ve made these with the focus on you and said turtle’s childrens’ relationship with one of the uncles. Hope that makes sense, lol. Oh, btw, the advice Leo gives Mini is actually one my psychiatrist gave me. Hopefully it also works for others💚
Og mange tak! Jeg har også øvet mig længe💚
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(D/W/N) = Donnie’s wife’s name.
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Warnings: None💙❤️💜🧡
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Leonardo:
“Uncle Mikey!”, 16 year old Romeo called out, holding his odachi high above his head, gleaming with pride when Michelangelo entered the dojo. “See what I can do!” What followed was a series of fast movements that ended with him posing with his odachi just in front of him, shining in the light.
Gerardo let out a sound of amazement, while Marcello rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Show off”.
“Wow, when did you learn that?”, Mikey smiled, knowing how hard his oldest nephew had trained, since Master Splinter first gave him his odachi at the age of 15.
“I learned it myself”, Romeo said proudly, before swinging the odachi in a manner that reminded Mikey of a teenage Leonardo. No doubt that was the oldest son of the fearless leader. “I’m going to show dad later. Do you think he’ll like it?”
“You’re asking if your father will be happy to see something you have learned yourself?”, Mikey asked, his serious tone breaking with his smile as he ruffled the top of Romeo’s head, letting his nephew know that he was joking. “Of course he will. That’s the kind of stuff that will make your old man proud”.
“Me too!”, Gerardo yelled out, mimicking his oldest brother’s moves, but without any weapon in his hands.
“Leo! Is that you?”, Mikey asked jokingly, making the 10 year old laugh loudly, before Romeo put his weapon away, so he and Gerardo engaged in some light hearted sparring, their laughter echoing loudly through the dojo.
Mikey turned to find his other nephew sitting in the corner of the room, watching his brothers run around with a small scowl. Mikey was no stranger to Marcello’s tempered episodes, having been present to many of them, or at least within ear shot. So as he made his way over to the 13 year old Marcello, he knew exactly what was going on. But he would let the young half mutant have a chance, at explaining what he was feeling.
“Hey there, big guy”, Mikey said, taking a seat on the floor next to the grumpy teenager. Marcello shot him a look and greeted him with a small hey, resting his chin in his hand. “Why are you sitting over here?”
“Because those two are taking up the whole dojo”, Marcello mumbled, nodding to his brothers. “A guy can’t get space around here”.
Mikey watched Marcello have his brothers for a moment, before he decided to stand, turning to his nephew with a smile. “Well, guess we then have to make some space”, he said, Marcello looking at him in curiosity. “Ever tried nunchucks before?”
“No”, Marcello answered, unable to hide his smile as he stood up. “Can I try yours?”
“Of course you can”, Mikey said, pulling his nunchucks from his belt, holding them out in front of Marcello, watching his face light up even further. And Mikey’s next words only served to make him smile even brighter. “Time to show your father something the others can’t”.
Raphael:
Raph had never really been good at meditating. He had never really liked it, and he generally had a hard time keeping his mind calm for so long. But he did really want his children to learn it. Or at least get familiar with it, should they ever get to a position where they would need it. And therefore Raph asked Leonardo for help. Leo had always been a natural at meditating, and had for the most part successfully taught his own children to do it, so maybe he could teach Raph’s children the same.
And that was how Leo ended up in the dojo with his nephew and two nieces, helping them clear their minds, the same way that had worked for his own children. But Leo soon found himself facing a difficult situation - these were his nieces and nephew, the children of his hot-tempered and at times inpatient brother. And that much was obvious, from the way the three children had a hard time sitting still, almost refusing to go too far into their own heads.
As Leo spoke about slow breathing, keeping their eyes closed, and bringing their thoughts to focus on the said breathing, only Joan seemed to be able to sit still, wanting to get this over with, so she could go back to whatever a 13 year old teenage girl liked to speed her time with. But her younger siblings weren't finding it as easy. 6 year old Ragnar had a hard time concentrating, his attention being grabbed by every sound outside the dojo, creating all sorts of images in his head. All from his mother and father watching television, to a monster breaking through the entrance of the lair, making him uneasy. Minerva however, just couldn’t sit right. Her legs kept falling asleep and her skin kept crawling, her knee impatiently bouncing in its bent position, pushing up against Joan, drawing an irritated sigh from the frustrated teen, who had just managed to empty her head for a short moment.
“Mini, stop moving your leg”, Leo said without opening his eyes, causing Ragnar to look at him in amazement. How did he do that?
“But, uncle Leo”, Mini said, laying down onto her back, stretching out on the dojo floor. “Meditation is so hard and boring”.
“If you shut up, it maybe wouldn’t be so hard”, Joan mumbled, shooting her little sister a look that made Mini sit back up.
Leo opened his eyes, taking a moment to study Mini as she still couldn’t sit still. “Can you say why it's hard and boring? It’s okay, there’s no right or wrong answer”.
Mini sat for a moment, chewing the inside of her cheek, thinking her answer through. "It's hard to empty my head”, the 9 year old mumbled.
Leo looked at Mini and thought for a moment, before he finally smiled at her, noticing the relieved expression on her face.
“That’s okay”, Leo said, adjusting his legs. “It’s very hard to just empty your head, especially when you’re used to thinking a lot. What you can do instead, is to notice your thoughts. Take note of them and let them be. Don’t fight them, but let them flow naturally. Hopefully that will feel easier”.
Mini nodded with a bright smile, before folding her legs once more, actually being able to sit still this time. Smiling at the sight, Leo turned his attention towards Ragnar, noticing how he kept throwing glances at the dojo doors.
“Do you want to sit next to me, Ragnar?”, Leo asked, holding out his hand to the small boy. Ragnar nodded before making his way over next to Leo, taking a good hold of his hand, before he sat down next to him with his legs crossed, for once not looking towards the door, when he heard the small sounds coming from the other side.
Donatello:
Sometimes it just happened, and Raph wasn’t really sure how. He would walk into a room, find his nephews and nieces playing with something, either with or without his own children, and suddenly he would be sitting down with them, playing along, all full of life and energy. And today wasn’t any different.
Raph had found his 10 year old nephew, Galileo at the kitchen table, scribbling away at pieces of paper with thick colorful crayons, and a concentrated expression on his face - one that very much reminded Raph of Donatello, whenever he was in deep concentration inside his lab.
Raph had asked Gali about what he was drawing, and soon he sat with his nephew at the kitchen table, drawing all sorts of stars and action heroes, causing Gali great amusement, as they took turns adding to the drawing. However, as the two of them continued their drawing game, they were soon joined by Marie and Dorothy.
The two 5 year old girls sat at the table, grabbing their own pieces of paper and a handful of crayons, only for their attention to be fully caught by Gali and Raph’s drawings. And of course, the two girls wanted in, wanting to join their older brother and their uncle.
“Can we play too?”, Dorothy asked, trying to touch the paper with her pink crayon, only for Gali to turn to her with a dirty look. A look that even Raph has seen many times, whenever Gali felt like his sisters crept in on his personal space.
“No, me and uncle Raph are busy”, Gali said, doing a hand movement, as if he was trying to shoo his sisters away.
“But we want to play!”, Marie whined, her green crayon in hand.
“I said no”, Gali said, turning his back on his sisters, pushing his paper further away from them. And of course, this action caused tears to gloss over the girls eyes, looking longingly at the paper he and Raph had been drawing on.
“You know what?”, Raph suddenly said, catching the attention of the three children once more. “I have a better idea”.
Standing from the table, Raph grabbed the stack of paper, before splaying them out over the kitchen table, until the whole surface was covered in the white paper. The three kids, seeming to understand what Raph was doing, looked up at their uncle with wide smiles, grabbing onto the crayons with excitement.
“Let’s draw the biggest drawing ever!”, Raph said, watching with a happy smile, his nephew and niece smiled at each other, before turning their attention towards the many papers in front of them.
As Raph and three kids continued their drawing, the other kids slowly came to the table, taking a look before adding onto the large piece themselves. It didn’t take long before all the kids of the lair sat around the kitchen table, drawing until there was almost no crayons left.
Michelangelo:
1.5 year old Luis had been sick for a few days now, crying for both you and Mikey at all times. The poor little guy was teething, and with that came sickness and pain, and so, you and Mikey was hung up, spending most of your time with your crying child, trying to soothe the pain in his gums. And this left Sunny BORED. Ever since Luis had gotten sick due to his teething, Sunny had been a bored and sighing mess. She wandered around the lair, waiting for the moment Luis got better, so either you, Mikey or maybe even Luis could come play with her. But until then, she would have to entertain herself, or find someone else to do so. And that was how she ended up in the lab with her uncle, draping herself over a small table on the other side of the room, with a small installation of the solar system on it.
Donnie saw his niece enter the lair, and spoke to her without looking away from his work. “Hey, Sunny. How’s it going?”
“Bored!”, Sunny groaned, resting her chin on the table, her eyes staring at the small earth in front of her. “Luis’ sick, so there’s nothing to do”.
“That doesn’t sound good”, Donnie said, turning his chair so he could watch Sunny, making sure she wasn’t getting her fingers into something she shouldn’t. She had a tendency to touch whatever she found interesting. And just as Donnie had thought, she was now poking at the miniature solar system. “Have you asked Gali if he wants to play?”
“He’s reading with aunt (D/W/N)”, the girl mumbled. However, her flighty attention and curiosity was very soon taken by the miniature she was playing with. “What is this?”
“That?”, Donnie asked, rolling his chair over to her. “That’s the solar system. The one you’re touching right now is earth”.
“Earth”, Sunny repeated, her attention jumping to the small white ball beside it. “What’s this?”
“That’s the moon”, Donnie answered.
“The moon?”, Sunny asked, her eyes shining with excitement. “Like the one in the sky?”
“Yes”, Donnie smiled. “Like the one in the sky”.
“Do there live fairies on the moon?”, Sunny asked, pushing the moon spindle, so it made a rush of circles around the earth.
Donnie chuckled at her question. She was truely Mikey’s daughter.
“Do you want fairies to live on the moon?”, Donnie asked, watching Sunny study the solar system. His niece looked at him and nodded. “Then in that case, there lives moon fairies on the moon. But they are hard to find. They neither like robots or beings that aren’t fairies themselves”.
“But I’m a fairy!”, Sunny exclaimed.
“You are!?”, Donnie asked, acting surprised. He looked around, acting as if he was thinking, making Sunny laugh. “But we’re in my lab! There are robots! Come on fairy, let’s get you out of here and find some of your fairy friends!”
And with a loud giggle, Sunny ran out of the room, waiting for Donnie to close the door to the lab behind him, before they continued their fairy game in the living area.
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sorrowsofsilence · 11 months ago
Text
Faster • Karlsson
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Pairing: Jolly Karlsson x Fem!Reader
Words: 2.1k
Warnings: Smut (18+, fingering, female!receiving), choking, derogatory term used (slut).
Prompt: you know what they say, guitarists finger faster.
PART TWO HERE
Author note: I swear these got even dirtier as they went on… AWOOGA lol. But here is the last one under this prompt!! I hope you enjoyed this “mini-series” as much as I did.
THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!
Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @th4t-em0-k1d  @lans-angels @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking
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Well, you know what they say, guitarists finger faster.
You swallowed harshly as you watched Jolly’s fingers grazing across the guitar strings, your mind travelling to various unholy thoughts.
The two of you were sat in the studio, producing some solo work Jolly wanted to try doing on the side. It surprised you when Jolly asked you to join him since the two of you only become friends a few months prior due to Noah, whom you had met at a Bad Omen’s after-party and talked about producing music yourself.
You and Noah had hit it off immediately, sharing interests in curating different styles of sounds and imploring each other’s creativity. You two were so invested in the conversation you hadn’t noticed the man looming behind him who was watching you with curious eyes, until Noah turned, almost bumping into him.
“Oh! Jolly!” Noah had said, his smile wide, “This is Y/N, she’s also a producer!”
You held out your hand instinctively, not even seeing the man properly until Noah stepped away, revealing the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.
You were ready to melt at his mysterious smile alone as he shook your hand, tattooed fingers slipping around yours enigmatically. It was your breaking point when he spoke, the deep Swede accent that left his lips had you completely captivated, ready to surrender everything to the stranger.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Joakim, but everyone calls me Jolly.” His chestnut hair was half up in a bun and half down, the scruff of facial hair carved through his features just right. Your eyes had trailed to his piercings, the cross dangling from his lobe invigorating, and the piercing of his nose sending your stomach into spirals. Any man with a pierced nose knows how to fuck.
You were hooked the moment you met him, but you remained ignorant of his feelings being reciprocated. You told yourself he could be with anyone, and that he couldn’t have any interest in you- but Jolly was fixated that very same day.
Jolly had gone home from the party with his mind dominated by your image. He was consumed by thoughts of what could be; the smile you gave him when you two parted after talking to each other for hours during the event leaving him swooning.
For months the two of you stole glances at one another, both of you smiling in greeting when you got together with the band to work on their new album. Behind each grin was a plea for one another to make a first move; the fantasy of completely devouring each other.
Jolly wanted you more than anyone he’s ever crossed paths with. He loved the way your s/c skin radiated through the sun, your perfect h/c hair accompanying your e/c eyes. He wanted all of you. Needed all of you.
The more time you spent with the boys, the more the tension would build. You would let your fingers graze across his skin when you passed each other equipment, and would purposefully wear certain clothes you knew drove him wild. You’d walk past with a sauter in your step, bending over in front of him to pick up cables or reverb pedals after a recording session.
Jolly would watch with hungry eyes as he licked his lips, readjusting himself through the pocket of his pants as his mind undressed you. He imagined bending you over the studio couch, holding back your arms as leverage to fuck you deeper and faster; touching himself over a dozen times to the thought of how good you’d feel, wrapped around himself- desperate to send you onto your knees, praying his name.
You sat across from him in the studio, sitting cross-legged on top of the leather rolly chair placed by the computer screen. You listened to Jolly’s strumming through the headphones plugged into the amp, bobbing your head to the music. Flickering your eyes to Jolly, his own were closed as he bit the inside of his cheek, focusing on the riff.
Your eyes wandered back and continued to watch as his hands danced through the harmony he created, his fingers picking through the strings with ease; your stomach spiralling with thoughts of what his fingers could do to your own body. You wanted to think about anything else, but your heart began to race, face flushing.
Jolly watched you admire his hands working along the neck of the guitar, and you didn’t know that he caught on to the effect his playing had over you. He strummed a few more cords before sighing, taking off his headphones and placing the guitar on the stand next to him.
“I don’t know if I liked the sound of that,” Jolly said, standing up. Your heart hammered as he got closer to you, staring up through your lashes towards the man towering over you as you sat below him.
“Can you play it back for me?” He asked, and you nodded quickly, swallowing away your lustful desires as he spun your chair around. You clicked your way through the computer, looking for the riff. You unplugged your headphones so you two could hear it aloud, and Jolly frowned once he listened to it back.
“No no,” he hummed, before leaning down over the back of the chair, face inches away as he placed his hand over yours on top of the mouse, “Here.”
You let out a shaky breath at the proximity, as he guided your hand to click the part he wanted to listen to.
“What?” Jolly whispered, turning to look at you now. You felt his warm breath cascade over your ear, “Are you nervous?”
Your face warmed as you turned to look at him, “no, why would I be nervous?”
He smiled, his lip finding its way between his teeth as he looked towards the computer, exiting the program.
“I’m tired of playing this game,” He said, standing back up and turning the chair around so you were facing his body, head barely above his waste line.
“Wh-what game?” You laughed nervously, but your stomach erupted into spirals of excitement.
Jolly’s hand gripped underneath your chin as he forced your gaze towards his own, holding you in place, “You want me-”
You almost choked on your saliva at his bold words, even if true.
“-And I want you.” He finished, eyes searching your face for any doubt. His grip tightened on your jaw for a moment as your chest rose heavily before he leaned forward, placing a hand on either side of the armrests of the chair. He hovered over you, waiting for an answer.
“Am I wrong?” His head cocked to the side, and your lips parted briefly, before shaking your head.
“No,” you bit the inside of your cheek, avoiding his eyes. Jolly’s heart raced when you agreed with his words, the realization that you felt the same way causing his breath to hitch.
“So kiss me,” He demanded, leaning closer towards you, noses almost touching. You looked at him now, eyes wide as your chest hammered with nerves.
“I said, kiss me,” He stated again, and you analyzed his expression, reading his stern yet titillating gaze.
You didn’t even nod before closing the gap between the two of you, Jolly sighing in complete relief as your lips met. Jolly kissed you firmly, immediately licking at your lip to open the kiss, devouring each other.
You almost began moaning into his lips as you vibrated with excitement, your ears warming through the heat of the moment.
Jolly himself had to restrain himself from taking you right then and there on the chair, ready to mercilessly pound into you with no constraint. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around your neck, pulling you to stand up beneath him, gripping your body as though he owned you.
You barely held yourself up against Jolly’s grasp, letting your own hands roam beneath his t-shirt and trail along the covered skin. His free hand ran down your back, memorizing your hips through a repetitive pattern as he reached beneath the short black skirt you wore.
Jolly’s hunger for you was lascivious, the grip on your neck proving so; but it wasn’t until he dipped beneath your collarbone, placing his tongue at your nape before licking his way up to underneath your jaw. His mouth moved against yours ruthlessly, afraid to miss any inch of your being, sucking along the spot behind your ear. A breathy laugh escaped your lips in disbelief at his yearning caress against your skin.
Your hands trailed to the waistband of Jolly’s jeans, tugging at the fabric, dipping your fingers dangerously close, before running them along the hem of his underwear, teasing him. Jolly was already hardening as your lips melted against his own, but he was no longer able to stop himself as he pulled you by the neck towards the studio sofa; famished and lewd.
The pent-up tension of the last few months eased as the two of you watched each other while he pushed you into the leather, replacing the anxiety with heated desperation.
“You have no idea how many times I have touched myself to thoughts of you,” Jolly shared a suave smile, and you grinned back, satisfied at his words.
“I’ve wanted you since the day we met,” You said as Jolly sat beside you, hands roaming over your body again. You slouched your body into the cushions, resting your heels on the edge. Jolly kissed you again, his hands wandering between your legs as he rubbed them up along your skin, clawing and squeezing before spreading your thighs apart. He lifted the fabric of your skirt, exposing your underwear. You thanked fucking god that you chose a slutty pair of lace ones this morning.
Jolly’s lips trailed down your neck as his fingers began to dance along your covered core, and you winced once they grazed over your desperation. You stared at him, pleading with him to do something, anything.
Jolly pulled your underwear to the side and he spread your arousal along your folds with the pads of his inked fingers. Your breath picked up pace as you watched how they grazed over you delicately. Jolly eventually began circling over where you craved him most, and you moaned into his lips with furrowed brows. You tried not to buck your hips for more friction.
“Please, fuck me with your fingers,” you pulled away from him, begging.
Jolly chuckled, “So that’s why you always watch the way I play guitar.”
He watched you intensely with parted lips as he teased you a moment more, before sinking his fingers through you. Jolly ravished in the moment you looked back at him through hooded eyes, succumbing to his touch.
“Fuck,” you cursed, refusing to break eye contact with Jolly as his fingers pumped in and out, curling upwards as he beckoned for you to moan.
“Say my name,” Jolly said, pushing into you with force, the speed of his fingers flicking against your spot leaving you blinded with incitement, “Who’s fucking you with their fingers? You’re going to come on them like the good little slut you are.”
“You,” You cried, holding your thighs into your chest as you exposed yourself fully, surrendering, “Jolly.”
The shit-eating grin plastered on his face said it all, pleased at your submission. Jolly’s other hand reached to stimulate the top of you for a moment, pushing your body over the edge.
You screamed as he remained fixated on your pleasure, pumping his fingers with immense speed through your orgasm until you pushed him away, catching your breath.
Jolly smiled proudly through hooded eyes, sliding his fingers along you one last time before bringing his fingers up to your lips.
“Suck,” He demanded, and you obliged, opening your mouth as he pushed his fingers towards the back of your throat. You moaned, tasting yourself against his fingers, sucking along his digits.
A guttural groan emanated from Jolly as he envisioned your lips wrapped around him, taking all he offered, saliva dripping from your tongue. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you aimlessly into his mattress, leaving you a withering mess.
“Let’s go back to my place,” Jolly said, kissing you desperately again before standing up, adjusting himself in his pants and grabbing his keys.
You stared at him, wanting to please him, “But- it’s your turn?”
Jolly gave you a low laugh, throwing his jacket over his shoulders as he pulled you up off the couch, smacking your ass to push you forward.
“Where else do you think I’m going to fuck into you senselessly?”
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Part Two ;)
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