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mi55delulu · 3 months ago

Text

movie goers

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

synopsis: starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.

genre: enemies to friends to lovers (e2f2l)

wc: ~16.4k

cw: not so cute meet, slice of life, slight angst, fluff, mature language, mean jk and mean oc — they get better though, cheating (not main characters), fwb (not main characters), mutual pining, oc is lowkey a hopeless romantic, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🔞, smut, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, love love love. if i got any rules/regulations wrong, i didnt. leave me alone, it’s fanfic 😇✨also written in lowercase bc that’s just how my phone setting is and i’m too lazy to go back to capitalize … ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

a/n: yuh … inspired by real life events. anyways, this is the first time i’ve posted a fic on this page. i’ve been an avid reader (still am) but i’ve been wanting to put something out too. so here’s my gift to close out 2024. also, i miss jk. I MISS BANGTAN. ;-; enjoy and lmk your thoughts!

—

if you had to describe your ideal neighbor in three words, it’d be: mindful, quiet, and kind. cause that’s what your neighbor, mrs. lee, was to you in the last three years you’ve lived in this apartment complex. she kept to herself, walked her small crusty (but cute) senior white dog, and brought you leftover cookies when she baked too much for her grandkids. you always had a feeling she made just the right amount with you in mind, but of course she’d never tell you.

so when she broke the news that she was going to move into her son’s home because they’ve been worried about her living alone, you were happy for her — happy that she’s going to get taken care of, but sad that you’ll be losing a great neighbor.

you tell her whoever moves in after her probably won’t be as good of a baker. she simply laughs and tells you to be nice.

three months pass and you hear footsteps outside your door one afternoon. when you try spying through your peephole to get a glimpse of the commotion, you see boxes stacked on the side of apt# 305.

finally, someone was moving in.

some of the boxes were spilling onto your welcome mat, but that didn’t really bother you. you were more curious about your new neighbor … er, perhaps neighbors. so any clue on whether it was going to be an individual or a family moving in would give you an idea of who you’ll be living next to.

unfortunately for you, all the boxes were neatly sealed off.

“dang it.” you mutter to yourself while squinting at the labels on the boxes. clothes, kitchen, shoes … workout? well, okay no indication of toys so you can safely assume there aren’t any kids … yet.

you look at your clock, it’s about time you head out to get your mail anyways. maybe you’ll bump into your new neighbor(s).

except, it wasn’t as easy to spot who exactly was going to be moving in with all the different movers. you sigh and sift through your mail as you walk up the stairs to your apartment. most of the boxes that were outside had already been moved inside the apartment by the time you returned from the mailroom.

as curious as you were of who your new neighbor could be, you had better things to do … like binge watch your kdramas before your shift starts. maybe if you’re feeling extra nice … you’ll say hi later. no one wants to start off on a bad foot with their neighbor. you fumble around your pockets for your keys and eventually hear your locks click open when you’ve successfully unlocked your door.

“hey, neighbor.”

you turn. now, in all your 28 glorious years of living, you can easily count the times you’ve been starstruck on one hand. seeing the northern lights by accident on your way home in 2024, meeting your favorite youtuber at a late night diner when you were 15 years old, and being noticed by one of the highest ranked players in maplestory’s world chat.

the person in front of you? a sight to behold. tall, killer smile, numerous piercings, and a forearm adorned in tattoos. yeah. you don’t think starstruck would fit for this occurrence, but what you do know is that they’ve gotten you tongue tied.

“welcome!” you blurt out and give a tight-lipped smile before barreling through your entryway. you don’t give yourself another second to study his expression once the door shuts behind you. were you lame to run away from your new neighbor? sure. will you regret this? well, the cringe is already seeping in. you’re probably branded as the weird girl now … whatever.

what’s done is done.

you don’t know if 305 is mindful, quiet, or kind.

but fuck, he’s hot.

—

305 was not quiet.

you know it’s a housewarming party with a couple of his friends. he didn’t have to tell you … you heard them loud and clear through the walls several times as they clinked their shot glasses for the 11th time that evening.

you’re texting your frustrations to dohwan, your boyfriend (?) er … someone you’ve been talking to (and fucking) these last 2 years. he hasn’t quite put a label on the relationship just yet and claimed that he is only seeing you. labels didn’t really matter to you but as time grew, you’ve come to like him a lot and wished for something more. he’s career-driven, great in bed, and knows how to whip up a good breakfast the morning after he stays for the night. he was supposed to come over tonight, but told you he got caught up with work. it’s times like these where you feel a level of uncertainty with dohwan. you spiral and don’t feel as secure as you want to be.

you shouldn’t feel hurt or disappointed … but you do, because hell, alright … maybe you didn’t just like him.

you love him.

you’re not embarrassed that you told him 9 months into seeing each other. has he said it back? no, but that’s okay! everyone has a different timeline when it comes to feelings. you could only hope he meets yours soon enough. why else would he stay for this long?

back to the situation at hand.

you’re not an irritable person, but the least 305 could’ve done was given you a heads up that he was going to have a celebration. you would’ve asked to stay over at dohwan’s in that case.

another round of laughter erupts through your walls and you grit your teeth in annoyance.

“fuckin’ hell,” you throw the covers off your body and march out of your apartment. you find yourself glaring at 305’s door — a juxtaposition from how you usually looked when mrs. lee used to reside here.

god, you missed her.

you knock on the door a few times, taking note how the chattering from the inside decreases and some footsteps grow close to the door.

again, you almost want to want to run back to your apartment when you’re face to face with 305’s handsome confused face.

realizing it’s you, 305 smiles, “oh, hey—“

“it’s nearly 12 a.m. do you mind?” you cut him off.

his smile drops and he leans one shoulder on his doorway.

“sorry,” he says, “we’ll wrap up soon.”

you’d usually drop something this trivial by now, but you’re in a foul mood. unfortunately for 305, this is will be his official first impression of you.

“how much longer is ‘soon?’ it’s been like this for 4 hours,” you really don’t mean for it to come out that way, but the damage is done.

little did you know, 305 wasn’t going to backdown either. he may be new to this complex, but he’s not privy to obnoxious neighbors. the only difference is that he thought you were going to be quiet and shy, much like the first meeting.

“don’t know.” he shrugs.

“i really don’t want to involve property management.” you cross your arms. it’s a half threat — you’ve never called because you never needed to … but you’ll flip through your 50 page rental agreement if you have to.

he mirrors your stance and looks out to your apartment’s door.

“well, sorry to burst your bubble, 307.” he says and you see red, “but management is aware of my get together. it’s not my fault they didn’t inform the other residents.”

“asshole.” you mutter under your breath.

he smiles again, a little less friendly and more condescending this time, “we’ll finish soon, 307. good night.” he shuts his door on you before you can formulate a sentence and you’re left outside in the dark.

—

“yo, jungkook … were we being too loud?” hoseok asks while popping a handful of m&m’s into his mouth.

“yeah, cause your laugh can be heard from all throughout korea,” jimin mocks, earning him a shove from hoseok.

“nah, don’t worry about it. just my neighbor saying hi.” jungkook plops down on the sofa with the rest of his friends.

“oh? should’ve invited them in. we have enough pizza to feed a village.” taehyung nudges his side.

jungkook laughs and shakes his head, “just scale down on the volume and we’ll be golden.”

jungkook loves good company, having lived with his friends for most of his college years, he was a bit reluctant to move out. it’s a little bittersweet, but all his friends are happy for him and his new journey in adulthood. he won’t have to deal with messy roommates and random guests … vice versa. as fun as it was to live in a house full of your best friends, at the end of the day, men will be men. gross, loud, and obnoxious.

not jungkook though, so he thinks.

“ha! called it,” jimin snorts, “you were being too loud, hyung.” this earns jimin a punch to the arm and hoseok’s booming laugh when jimin dramatically falls off the chair.

jungkook knew it was useless to request this of his friends, so he took it upon himself to give the property manager a heads up. lucky for him, the lady seemed more than happy to accommodate. she even left her business card with him after he signed the lease … something about calling her if there’s ever an issue with the apartment — any time of the day.

weird.

what’s weirder was his neighbor. from running away during the first meeting to demanding he end his housewarming on the spot. okay, to be fair, you didn’t, but you might as well have. it didn’t help that jungkook was hotheaded and gets a little irrational when something involved his friends.

so what if he thought you were pretty in your black pajama set? you called his friends loud, when in honesty, they could’ve been much worse. seriously. he knows jimin’s taunting held some truth. hoseok has been responsible for some noise complaints in the past. so this was considered manageable. plus, it’s not like he’ll be inviting them over every weekend.

but if it meant pissing you off, he might consider it.

alright, he wasn’t that cruel and he definitely doesn’t want to make living next to you unbearable. he’ll apologize first thing in the morning tomorrow, but for now, he just wants to enjoy his time with his best friends.

—

jungkook was going to murder you.

not literally, but he could if it wasn’t for the major hangover holding him back. he blinks twice, looks at the clock on his nightstand, reads 7:01am, and lets out a big sigh after another round of drilling vibrates against his wall.

fuckin’ hell.

it feels comical now that he’s in front of your apartment, face still swollen from sleep, but so visibly upset at being woken up at the ass crack of dawn.

“are you serious?” he asks, voice still laced with heavy sleep.

you, on the other hand, look put together and almost too happy this early in the day. jungkook can only rule you out as a psychopath — a pretty psychopath. your hair all in place, lashes kissing your cheeks when you smile at him, and not a single wrinkle on your clothing in sight.

“what’s up,” you peer outside your door just as he did last night, “305?”

he wants to let out a groan, but that’d give you too much power.

“drilling at 7 in the morning? that’s gotta be a violation.” his voice still laced with sleep, though, he’s sure to sound assertive.

“nope! here,” you smile and pull out your phone, the level of brightness makes jungkook squint, “county regulations allow work as early as 6:30am.”

“yeah, if there’s justification. there’s no reason for you to be drilling this early.” jungkook argues back.

you pout, evidently not sad at that revelation, “but my mental health. i was kept up all night by my neighbor and his friends … i need some wall decor to cheer me up. surely you could sympathize, right?”

you don’t allow him to formulate another thought as you’re shutting the door, “i’ll be done soon, have a good day!”

jungkook almost wants to laugh at how irritated he is, but all he can do now is try to get some shut eye before his shift starts. that is, if he can even go back to sleep.

should’ve asked his friends for some earplugs as a housewarming gift.

—

the drilling eventually came to a stop. only because you could not be bothered to wake up earlier than you had to and you think you made your point pretty clear to your neighbor — don’t fuck with me.

honestly, you’re not sure what came over you. you never liked causing issues for people and you’re also well liked by your work peers and friends, so this was out of character of you. it also didn’t help that your friends spurred you on and praised you for one upping him. as the rage dissipated from your system, you’ve come to the conclusion of why you acted out.

your new neighbor was a conventionally attractive man. he probably knows this too judging from the way he spoke to you — like you’d back down just because he said so. he probably was able to schmooze the lease manager into giving him a better rent deal and get pardoned for all the noise he made during his housewarming party. sucks for him; you’re not a fan of pretty privilege.

you had to set him straight, so drilling into a random piece of wood every morning right near his bedroom wall was the perfect revenge. you expected some backlash from him; surprisingly, he didn’t say a word to you after his first confrontation. so, you stopped the antics after the third day.

weeks later, you learned his name is jeon jungkook. not through a formal introduction … only because his mail got mixed in with yours and you tossed it onto his welcome mat. he eventually came to realize your name through the same way too.

though, he’ll always be 305 to you and you’ll always be 307 to him.

that’s fine.

you’ll scowl every time you see him and he’ll stick a middle finger up to you as well.

the feeling was mutual.

“so, are you still battling it out with your new neighbor?” dohwan asks one evening. his head was actually between your legs at the moment. you like having random conversations during sex, but talking about your annoying neighbor wasn’t on the top of your list.

“mm, yeah,” you moan lowly when he flicks his tongue on your clit. “well n-no, not anymore.” you correct yourself, “oh fuck, keep going.”

“good, i’m tired of hearing about him,” he chuckles against you and continues his ministrations between your folds. if you were caught off guard by his comment, you weren’t anymore. the pleasure coursing through your body is enough to make your head spin.

he moves away from your body once you’ve come by his mouth. without warning, he slips inside you and you hiss from the overstimulation, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“gonna fuck you so well.”he’s thrusting relentlessly, “it’s what you need, huh princess?”

you nod, too overcome by the power of his thrusts hitting all the right spots. dohwan is a little more vocal tonight — it makes you feel special but you’re also a little self conscious about your nextdoor neighbor hearing things. you’ve always kept it down even when mrs. lee lived next door, jungkook would be no exception.

people fuck, it doesn’t mean you can’t be courteous. you sure as hell don’t want to hear your neighbor fucking given that you’ve seen him bring back several different girls to the apartment these couple of weeks.

one thing you’ll commend jungkook for is not being a loud fucker in the bed.

“baby,” you whine as he pauses a little to listen to what you have to say, “we should keep it down.”

he tilts his head, reaches in between your bodies and circles slowly on your clit with his thumb while he resumes rocking into you. you keen and almost let out a moan.

“why? let the asshole hear.” he grunts when he picks up the pace again. dohwan kisses down your neck and leaves a red hickey on your collarbone. you let out a pretty sigh and wrap your legs around his waist.

“y-you,” he moans particularly louder and it throws you off slightly, “saw the way he looked at me today, right?”

you didn’t, but you definitely saw the way dohwan glared at jungkook and tightened his hold on your waist before entering your apartment. meanwhile jungkook had just come back from his evening run — at least that’s what you assumed since he was wiping away his sweaty hair from his flushed face coming up the stairs.

“baby, are you really going to talk to me about another man while we’re fucking?” you laugh and cup his face in your hands. he huffs in frustration but his eyes soften, it’s opposite to the brutal pace he’s set on your pussy.

“sorry,” he continues fucking into you and the room is filled with wet noises and his panting once again. even though he apologized, he does nothing to lower his volume.

knock-knock. the sound definitely did not come from the frontdoor, it was far too close to hear.

another series of knocks come and you realize it’s your bedroom wall. dohwan pays no attention to those sounds and is far into chasing his own high, but you move your hands over his mouth to muffle his grunts.

jeon jungkook is knocking on your wall.

he knows you’re having sex and you’ve become that obnoxious neighbor. if that wasn’t enough of an instant mood killer, you hear him blasting one of akon’s featured hits “i just had sex” to mock you and dohwan.

yeah, sexy time is over. you push dohwan off you and head into the bathroom to nurse your embarrassment.

shortly that night, dohwan leaves and it’s the first time you’ve gotten into an argument with him where you think he’s in the wrong.

—

people find it daunting to go to the movies alone. you’d agree until you were forced to go alone after no one wanted to go watch twilight with you in high school. it was awkward at first, but once the light dimmed and the movie started, no one cared about their surroundings.

that’s why you liked going alone. no one will pay attention to how alone you were. everyone in there will be focused on the big screen in front — you included. there was always something liberating about doing things alone too. ‘like yeah, stick it … i don’t need anyone.’ kind of energy.

the only thing you wished was to have someone to discourse with after the movie ended. it’s not a dealbreaker though. you could have easily asked dohwan to come with you, but you’ve been ignoring him since last week after the loud sex fiasco.

regardless, you’re watching moana 2 today. you’re sure it’s going to be a full house given that it’s the opening week. you can only pray that you won’t be surrounded by snotty (literally) kids. nonetheless, you’re excited and the theater was getting filled up as more movie goers come in during the preview. your row was nearly full, saved for the single empty seats on your left and right side.

score, no seat partners or snotty kids. you’ve won this time around.

you’re texting your friends and telling them your luck—

“ahem.”

you look up and you see two people standing in front of you. you’re sure it’s for the seats on your left and right side cause you double checked your ticket before sitting down and everyone else in your row has been seated for quite some time.

“can you move?” one person asks. weirdly enough, the voice is familiar.

even though the lights are low in the theater, you can see that it’s a man and a woman. and when you squint a little more at their figure, that’s when something catches your eyes. a tiger lily tattoo, the same one that your neighbor has.

no fucking way.

“hello?? can you move?” he asks again a little more aggressively. there’s no way he can’t recognize it’s you being that the movie screen is bright enough to shine a light on you. doesn’t matter. you weren’t going to move before and you definitely aren’t going to move now. hell, you’ve been asked plenty of times to move by both families and couples in the past — the difference was that they asked nicely. some were generous enough to offer you snacks when you did move for them.

jungkook? nah. no thank you. you’ll stay right where you are.

“nope.” you hold out your ticket to show your seat number and refocus back on the previews playing.

the girl behind him grabs his arm and gently asks him what seat numbers he got.

“k11 and 13.” he mumbles.

yeah, cause you had bought k12.

“oh, um, it’s okay! we wouldn’t even be talking during the movies anyways,” she reassures with a kind smile. “let’s sit so that we’re not blocking anyone?”

jungkook gives her a tight lipped smile and plops down on k11 while the girl takes k13.

“you’re fucking annoying for that.” he says only loud enough for you to hear. he’s angrily eating his popcorn and it makes you want to laugh mockingly. he’s dressed in all black with a silver chain dangling loosely around his neck. his hair is neatly styled and he smells nice. perfect for a first date … minus you being the factor to ruin it.

“i’m not the one that booked shit last minute. do better.” you shrug.

the previews are still playing and you look over at the girl. she’s so pretty and probably too sweet for jungkook’s good based on how she handled the seating situation.

you feel a little guilty, but that feeling leaves you the moment jungkook hands over the popcorn to the girl, spilling a couple on your lap. you glare, he smirks, and the girl unknowingly takes the bucket from him.

well, two can play that game.

“your nails are so cute, where’d you get them done?” you ask.

she beams and shows you her set, “a little shop called banger nails down myeong-dong! they’re great.”

“oh, your nails are so pretty though. where do you get it done?”

truth be told, you haven’t had your nails filled in over 3 weeks … you know they look rough, but you assume she’s just trying to maintain a conversation being that her actual date was a seat away.

you tell her your shop and she tells you she’ll definitely try out that location when she has the chance. she offers you some popcorn and you unashamedly take some, making sure jungkook sees.

he clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes, but makes no move to turn to your direction.

“oh, how rude of me. what’s your name?” you reach out to shake her hands.

“nayeon,” she answers and takes your hand in hers, “you?”

you tell her your name and she nods with a sweet smile. yeah, she’s definitely too good for jungkook.

the movie starts and you’re whispering commentaries and giggling with nayeon. you both held hands during the intense scenes and teared up at the ending. it felt really nice to connect with someone like this right off the bat. she was kind and funny throughout the entirety of the movie too.

you can’t say the same for jungkook. he had his arms crossed with a deep frown stamped on his face for two whole hours.

when the movie credit rolls, jungkook stands up and holds out his hand to help nayeon up. huh, chivalry isn’t dead you suppose. nayeon stands up and waves at you.

“it was so nice meeting you! we should definitely hang out. here, let’s follow each other on instagram!” she fumbles through her purse for her phone and you notice how jungkook closes his eyes in frustration behind her.

you and nayeon exchange contacts and as you’re reclining your seat upright, you hear jungkook ask her, “would you wanna get some froyo? my treat for messing up on the tickets.”

“aw, it all worked out though! i met a new friend,” she gestures over to you. jungkook doesn’t really acknowledge nor claim he has already met you.

why would he?

“i’m glad,” he replies, “still though, i feel bad that we didn’t really hang out. still up for that sweet treat?”

nayeon nods and looks back at you, “would you like to join us?”

unbeknownst to nayeon, jungkook looks at you in desperation this time and shakes his head pleadingly. you think you’ve tortured him enough this evening and you don’t want to subject yourself to hanging out with jungkook. seeing the couple link hands in front of you, you’re sorta missing dohwan a little now … so you’ll reach out to him and see what he’s doing.

“no, it’s okay. you both should enjoy that sweet treat together. i’ll text you on instagram!” you wave and jungkook lets out a breath of relief.

“let’s go?” now, what shocks you is his soft smile towards nayeon. it’s almost a 180 to the attitude you’ve experienced with him. then again, maybe it takes a special kind of person to bring that side out of you. nayeon can definitely do that.

she waves at you again and this time jungkook also waves at you (begrudgingly) too. it’s not a goodbye, but a ‘see you later … unfortunately.’ type of wave.

—

you come back from dohwan’s place a little after midnight.

nothing special happened, just hung out like normally. he didn’t bring up the argument and you didn’t feel like talking about jungkook either. this was a regular occurrence in your relationship with him. fights were always difficult, but the mend was easy … cause you guys tend to just sweep the issue under the rug.

clean slate.

“jesus christ!” you jump at the sight of a tall dark figure when you reach the top of your floor. your hand flies to your chest to hold down your hammering heart.

“relax, 307. just me.” jungkook says.

“scared the shit out of me.” you murmur to yourself. you proceed to open your door just as jungkook gets his keys out too.

“fitting for a piece of shit like yourself.”

“excuse me?” you raise your brows in question.

“you heard me,” he steps back out from his door, “loud for no reason, fuck like you’re the only one in the complex, and don’t even have the decency to move a seat over. it’s no wonder the previous resident moved away.”

you really want to argue back, but he read you for filth. you really have been an asshole, still, the comment about mrs. lee hurt. you’re not what jungkook makes you to be, but you’ve given him every reason to perceive you in this manner.

“look, i’ll apologize—“

“nah, save it. i’m tired of being nice too. have the night you deserve.” with that, he goes into his apartment and you’re left contemplating how you let things get this bad and awkward with your new neighbor.

there’s no point in trying to talk to your neighbor now. it’s late. you’ll process everything first and try talking to him tomorrow.

—

the talk never happened.

because for the next 27 days, you’ve been woken up by a blender at 5 a.m. you let that slide for the first 5 days thinking it was jungkook’s way of venting out his frustrations, but by the end of the week, you were back on hating your neighbor.

today marks day 28. you’ve had a long day at work and dohwan has been dodgy with you this week. you call him during lunch to ask him why he’s been so distant and he immediately goes off on you saying that he feels suffocated and that he likes his space. it hurts. because you thought that when you really like someone, all you want to do is fill your day with them.

it’s the evening after your shift and you barely make it up the top of the stairs before you sit down and cry into your hands. it’s so fucking embarrassing crying over a man, especially for one that you really like. majority of the time, he really does make you feel like you’re on top of the world, but then take you down to the pits of hell.

highest of highs, lowest of lows.

it fucking hurts, but you also don’t want to be more alone than how you are.

you hear footsteps come closer and you immediately wipe away your tears and look to the other side of the railing. the person coming up doesn’t stop and walks up past you.

you know them. you know it’s him. you can tell by his cologne and the black converse he fancies.

when you think he’s far enough and in his apartment, you let yourself cry some more.

little did you know, jungkook stands at the top of the stairs, contemplating on whether he should talk to you. he thinks you’re crying because of the blender. or maybe you’re crying because you have to go home to a shitty neighbor. feels bad and guilty. hates to see women cry or anyone cry for that matter …

you hear footsteps from behind and sniffle into your hands.

“uh, 307?”

“what?” your tone is biting but that’s understandable. you’ve been under a lot of stress.

he sighs, sits down right next to you on one of the steps. his legs are long so his knees fan out a little to brush yours. you scoot away and look at him with your bloodshot eyes.

ah, shit. he feels even worse.

“i know i’ve been a dick to you from the start.” he begins.

you scoff and look away.

“you didn’t make things easy either, okay?” he rolls his eyes, “but if you’re crying about the blender …”

“oh for fuck’s sake! no, this isn’t about the blender, 305.” you huff.

“ah.” he opens his mouth and closes it to think what to say next, “lemme guess … boy trouble?”

“shut the fuck up.”

he does so this time for a few minutes until you start talking.

“look, i’ve been meaning to say this but i’m sorry for being an asshole to you. you’re new here and i gave you a bad impression of me. i don’t want to continue making this a hostile living situation for the both of us.” you meant every word you said and whether jungkook accepts your apology, that’s for him to decide. at least you were the bigger person to apologize and take accountability.

“thanks. i’m sorry for being rude too. clean slate?” he reaches his hand out for you to shake. you look at his tattooed hand and a part of you feels relieved at the prospect of a resolution. you shake his hand in agreement. his hand was warm, a little calloused, but the hold was firm and promising.

“you’ll stop with the blender now?” you muse.

“aw man, i was getting used to the daily fresh green smoothies … but i think the blender is on its last leg. i’ll spare you for now and buy premade smoothies,” he grins and winks jokingly. his smile was friendly, similar to the one he gave to nayeon that one date. speaking of which, you’ll have to text her when you get home … she’ll definitely want to hear this update. you’ve been religiously in contact with her since the movie date and she’s been your person when it came to complaining about jungkook.

you and jungkook stare out at the sunset and breathe in the autumn air. it’s nice and just what you needed.

“hey, 307?” jungkook breaks the silence after a while and you hum in response, “for what it’s worth, he sounds like a dying gorilla when he fucks.”

it was the first time you laughed all day.

—

things have gone back to normal between you and dohwan surprisingly. he apologized to you the next day and said he acted out because work has been on him lately. you accepted his apology.

on top of that, you and jungkook are … getting along? he’s actually not that bad. he greets you every morning and makes small talk with you about the weather when you are both at the mailroom.

oh, and the blender at 5 a.m. have stopped completely. he does complain that he misses his green smoothie, to which you reply that he can still make it … just not when you’re still in deep sleep.

“no thanks, the prep is annoying.” he brushes it off.

so one morning after grocery shopping, you pick up a cup of green smoothie from your favorite shop and drop it off at his door before he’s back from his usual run.

‘drink up, 305. - your lovely, sweet, favorite neighbor 307 ♡’

to which, he dropped off a matcha pastry to you the next day after you mentioned how you’ve been craving it lately.

‘peace offering to the demon. ps. you’re my only neighbor LOL - 305’

needless to say, this started a ritual between you and him dropping off snacks and drinks to each other.

so yeah, things have been good.

tonight, dohwan is taking you out on a movie date to watch wicked. it’s not your first choice, but you love a classic so you’re open to see this modern-day remake. plus, he’s been extra sweet to you too.

you’re standing near the ticketing area waiting for dohwan to get snacks when you suddenly hear, “307?”

you turn your head and it’s jungkook with a girl you’ve never met before. he waves and asks what you’re watching.

you point at a nearby wicked movie poster and he nods.

“we’re seeing the same movie too. sorry, forgot to introduce you both — this is jinah,” he gestures at the girl next to him and she nods at you in acknowledgment, “and this is my neighbor.”

“ohhh the one that drilled for a week?” she marvels at you and you flush at her question.

“three days,” he corrects, “but felt like an eternity.” jungkook looks back at you like it’s an inside joke and you feel warm under his gaze.

“he’s exaggerating. eternity is waking up to a blender for almost a month.” you fire back casually and it earns a laugh from everyone.

“well, you’re here with someone this time right?” he teases since he notices your makeup is done extra nice tonight and you have on a shorter beige skirt that cuts right at the top of your thighs. you looked beautiful whether or not this was for an actual date.

anyways, it’s all said in pure jest and he knows you take no offense in it when you laugh. knows he can joke around with you now — you’ve both established a good rapport.

“mhm. you bought tickets right next to each other this time?” you retort and he snorts at your question.

jungkook stares off from a distance and his gaze changes. he takes hold of jinah’s hand in front of you.

“i’ll catch you later, 307. enjoy the movie, ‘kay?”

“oh, okay,” you stare at jungkook in confusion, “it was nice meeting you, jinah. hope you both enjoy the movie.”

they both turn and head to the the concessions first and you’re back waiting alone again, but not for long.

a hand touches your lower back and you know it belonged to dohwan.

“ready?” he hands over your drink and you both head to the screening auditorium.

there’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you push it away once you’ve found your seats.

—

jungkook feels sick.

he’s seated behind you and dohwan. that was fine — wasn’t the problem.

the issue was seeing him be overly affectionate to you once he took notice of jungkook outside the auditorium. he doesn’t want to assume, but that’s the energy he gets from dohwan. it’s too much. though perhaps that’s how he usually was to you — he should be doting to you as someone you’re romantically involved with.

jungkook has a bad feeling about him.

jungkook has been on multiple dates this year, nothing ever leading to more because there wasn’t a spark beyond physical attraction. he doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time or hurt someone in the process if he were to continue something he sees no future with. which brings him to wonder why you still entertain that man when he clearly comes and goes as he pleases.

the sex can’t be that good … based on what jungkook was forced to hear that one evening. plus, he made you cry. that man can’t be good.

well, what does he know about relationships? he’s the “serial dater” while you’ve been with the same person. obviously jungkook is doing something wrong. maybe jungkook was just projecting.

he lets out a sigh when dohwan slips his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

“you good?” jinah whispers.

“yeah, sorry. didn’t realize how long the movie was. ass is starting to go numb,” he smiles apologetically.

she nods and refocuses back to the big screen. jinah was nice, but a little too uptight for his liking … she would stare back blankly at him when he tells a joke and it makes him question his own humor. he’s sure he’s a funny guy — you always seemed to laugh at his remarks.

shit.

why was he thinking about his neighbor when he’s on a date with another person?

he shakes away those thoughts and zones in on the movie. just a couple more hours till he can go home and relax. a bitter part of him hopes he doesn’t have to see you and dohwan enter your place together tonight.

—

you and jungkook have this thing where you go on walks and get your mail at the same time on fridays. that’s the day you work from home and he’s off.

you never liked walks but jungkook called you out one day for walking extra stiff up the stairs. you can’t help it … sitting for long hours at a desk job wasn’t ideal for your body, but it got the bills paid. by the end of your shifts, you’re too burnt out to do anything. you’re not like him who goes on routine runs at the ass crack of dawn. not everyone was fortunate to have a … wait, you’re not sure what he really did for work.

“305.” you deadpan, trying to maintain your big steps to match his long strides.

“hm?” he takes notice of your walking form and slows down his pace so that you can catch up. his dimples are on full display when he looks at you and it nearly makes you forget what you were going to ask him.

“what do you do for work?”

“what’s it to you, 307?” his brows raise in question and he chuckles when you scowl.

“just wondering. you seem to have a good work-life balance.” you shrug. he has to be making some form of income to afford the cost of living in this part of the city, so if it’s not an office job like yours, you’re curious what his line of work could be in.

“currently a tattoo apprentice, but i do art commissions on the side.”

“oh?” it makes sense. he had this artistic aura to him … tattoo apprentice also made sense too with his sleeve of tattoos. you wonder how many of those he designed himself.

“that’s very cool,” you mean it. you wish you could draw but your art skills could only rival a preschooler at best.

“yeah?” he scratches his behind his head, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he gets a little shy or flustered. “parents were super against it up until they saw what i made on my first commission.”

“it’s always like that with parents, huh? if you’re not a doctor or lawyer, nothing is ever enough for them,” you shake your head. it’s a small revelation, but jungkook feels the weight of your words. he can relate.

“you like what you do?” he tries to change the topic.

“it’s okay, gets the bills paid but honestly i’m developing a shrimp back from sitting at the desk all day.” you confess.

“good thing we’re going on these walks, miss hunchback.” he quips and nudges your arm with his elbow.

you stick your tongue out at him and his smile widens. jungkook takes out his phone and shows you some of the tattoos he’s assisted with on some clients these past months. you zoom in and stare in awe — the line work and colors were beyond beautiful and clean.

“they’re amazing, jungkook.”

his nose crinkles when he smiles at your compliment and cheeks flush at the usage of his real name.

“whenever you’re free, you can come over to check out my commissions.” he offers.

“yeah? you promise this isn’t some secret invitation to get murdered?” you smile cheekily at him and he playfully rolls his eyes.

“no promises,” he says and grins when you dramatically stop in your tracks.

“come on, 307. your lunch break is almost over and i gotta get my mail.”

—

you and jungkook return from the mailroom with stacks of envelopes and coupon advertising from random companies.

he’s behind you looking through his stack. among his many bad habits, one is not having the patience to open his mail in the comforts of his own home. typically by the time you both get to your respective doors, he already has the majority of his envelopes torn open.

men.

you stick your key into your door and hear jungkook gasp.

“shit!” he lets out a string of curses and you glance over where he’s at in front of his door … absolutely decked out in glitter.

“what the hell is this?” he’s dusting himself off, but that only serves to worsen the damage.

all the lights in your head go off. fuck. you had forgotten about the glitter prank order you made during the time jungkook was being a little shit with his blender. you totally forgot to call the company to cancel it …

you feel bad, but you can’t help but let out a series of giggles.

“oh my … jungkook, i’m so sorry,” you say in between your fits of laughter.

he looks at you in confusion but it doesn’t take long for him to piece things together. he tips his head back and looks at you incredulously.

“you did this? 307 … this is too much. how the fuck am i gonna get rid of all this glitter?” he opens his arms out and it makes you laugh even more to see him in this state.

“‘m sorry, i …” you try to catch your breath, “forgot to cancel the request and you were being such a dickhead that time.”

“i fuckin’ look like edward cullen.” he groans, looking at you with a serious expression and that has you doubling over.

he eventually joins you in your laughter, hands clutching his stomach.

“h-here,” you say in between tears, “i’ll help you.”

you dust off some flecks of glitter on his shoulders and reach up to smear it over his cheeks. this has got to be the highlight of your week.

jungkook pulls away and laughs at your antics.

“you think this is funny, huh?” he opens his arms again and you nod while stifling away your giggles, but your demeanor changes when he smirks deviously.

his arms circle around you and presses your face into his hard chest. jungkook is cackling just as hard as you are. he’s rubbing his body on your frame and you’ve accepted your fate cause you’re no match for his strength. you’re both even now. all glittered up, laughing, and having so much fun with this “misfortune.”

you won’t admit you’re enjoying his embrace. you won’t admit you fancy his cologne and aftershave. you won’t admit how you feel so soft against the hard ridges of his torso.

you definitely won’t admit how starstruck you got when he finally lets up and stares at you cheekily, unknowing of his doings and how pretty the glitter flecks frame his cheekbones and nose bridge.

he really was perfection.

little did you know, jungkook was also completely enamored by the way your eyes sparkle despite the crazy amount of glitter now stuck on your face and body.

did time freeze? no one has said a word but you can hear and feel your hearts pounding against each other in this close proximity.

“what the fuck?” a voice pulls both you and jungkook out from that dream-like state.

you look and it’s dohwan. confusion and anger is etched and evident on his face. he’s holding a bag of takeout, for what you assume was going to be your lunch. he stalks over and grabs your wrist and yanks you away from jungkook.

“hey man, it’s not what it looks like.” jungkook says. jungkook’s expression is neutral with a hint of annoyance in his tone. dohwan pays no attention to him and looks at you instead.

“are you cheating on me?”

“the hell, dohwan?” you stare back in shock at his accusation.

realizing how awkward this situation was, you start pulling dohwan towards your apartment. you quickly turn to jungkook where he was still standing, he looks concerned for you, “sorry, jungkook. uh, i’ll catch you later.”

he nods and moves around you and dohwan to get to his apartment door.

when you and dohwan are finally in the privacy of your home, you turn and he’s setting down the takeout on your coffee table. you can tell he’s still upset because he makes no move to sit down — he leans against your wall with his arms crossed.

“well?”

“well, what? it really wasn’t what it looked like, dohwan.” you roll your eyes, making your way to your sink to wash off the glitter on your skin. glitter was a bitch to get rid of, but you’ll do just about anything to distract you of dohwan’s awful attitude. you have about 10 minutes till you have to get back to work and don’t have the time to be arguing.

“don’t fucking lie. you’re always raving about how nice he is to you now. and i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that’s not some ‘friendly neighbor’ shit,” dohwan raises his voice in frustration.

you toss the kitchen rag onto your counter and turn, “what’s so wrong about me talking about how someone is nice to me?! at least you know about the people in my life, but i don’t know jack-shit about yours. i don’t know what you’re insinuating, but you need to check yourself.”

“don’t try to spin this on me. whatever is going on with you and your neighbor, needs to stop.”

“literally nothing is happening between us??” you run your hand over your face, “i can pick and choose who stays in my life, dohwan. you can’t control that.” you try to level your breathing. you hated feeling like your partner laid claim on you as if you were some sort of property and had ownership.

don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry.

his eyes soften after realizing what he implied and he comes closer to you. he rubs your forearms and pulls you in for a hug. you let the tears fall now.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just … i was insecure.” he confesses.

you sniffle into his chest, “why?”

he chuckles, “my girl hanging around a good looking dude? who wouldn’t be insecure?”

his girl.

“wasn’t aware i was your girlfriend.” you pull away from his warmth and regret seeing the glitter you’ve transferred onto his clothing in the process.

“well … i mean, you’re technically not. who needs labels?” he brushes you off and sits on the couch now. you’re left standing there, another wave of uncertainty washes over you. 5 minutes till you need to start working … do you really want to open the can of worms right now?

fuck it.

“i don’t know. people who love each other?”

he snorts then rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re back in serious mode.

“here we go again. we’ve been through this plenty of times—“

“do you even like me?”

“yes, of course.” he answers quickly.

“do you love me?”

he’s silent.

“then what are we doing, dohwan?” the real question was … what were you doing? it’s hitting year three of this situationship and nothing more has progressed.

“hey, hey … i thought you enjoyed spending time with each other … we agreed that it was just me and you,” he comes close to you again, but you hold a hand out to keep some distance.

“i need to get back to work. can you give me some space?” you mumble, “thanks for the food.”

—

the fallout between you and dohwan was anything but amicable.

you both boiled it all down to two things: you want more. he wants things to remain the same.

you requested for space and a break in the meantime while you figure things out. during that time, you felt yourself distancing from jungkook too. he tried to greet you like normally after dohwan’s confrontation, yet every time you see him, you make a beeline into your apartment.

guess old habits die hard.

you took this time to focus on you. you spoke to a therapist, got in contact with some girlfriends, visited your family, and busied yourself with work. self improvement, if one could call it. your therapist recommended to decentralize men in your life for a while so that you can focus on yourself. which meant no dohwan.

… and no jungkook.

you’ve been keeping nayeon posted on your life and she calls you out for being inconsiderate to jungkook. funny, because she was on your side when he was being rude to you and immediately ghosted him after the movie date (you still haven’t told jungkook you’ve been in contact with nayeon because things have gotten a little crazy). you promised to her you’ll talk to him soon though. he was just unfortunately caught in the crossfire of your messy relationship.

honestly? you missed your neighbor — your friend. but you needed to get your head sorted out and you’d be terrible company either way.

jungkook didn’t deserve that.

the break between you and dohwan meant that you don’t talk to each other till you figured things out.

breaks meant for a reset.

he kept texting you and telling you how much he missed you.

you had to keep reminding him of the boundaries.

he eventually obliged.

thinking you were finally ready to talk weeks later, you went over to his place after work, only to find him in shock, hair disheveled, red scratch marks all over his chest and shoulders.

“oh, um, i—“ you panic, feel your heart drop to your stomach when the realization settles in after you hear another voice call out his name from behind.

dohwan took that break and fell into bed with another woman.

“w-wait, let me explain,” he follows you out his door and nearly topples over you when you turned abruptly to face him.

you feel betrayed — so much for ‘me and you.’ the anger bubbling in your chest has a way of migrating through your body. you tremble, tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and your teeth dig hard on your bottom lip … you can taste metallic.

“we’re on a break,” he says as if you weren’t aware of the terms you originally initiated.

“okay? so that means you go and fuck someone else?” your voice is shaky but you push on, “you cheated.”

“no! i mean, fuck, what did you expect me to do? we stopped talking and it was fucking lonely … i— you can’t put all the blame on me,” he stammers.

so, it was your fault?

“i didn’t make you sleep with someone else. a-all—,” you choke on a sob, “all i asked was for some space and time. you couldn’t even give me that.”

the thing is, dohwan hasn’t given you anything beyond what he was willing to get from you. he liked your company, thought you were a sweet and funny girl, and god were you good in bed. he didn’t feel ready to settle down in a relationship … felt that being with someone officially took the spark out, but he also wasn’t willing to let you go.

so he held out for as long as he could. as a result, you did too in hopes that he could find it in himself to change his feelings for you.

love is patient, love is kind.

you’ve been patient, you’ve been kind. if this is love, why does it break you down?

maybe this love wasn’t for you; but rather, he isn’t for you no matter how long you wait and the number of pennies you’ve thrown into the wishing well.

“goodbye, dohwan.”

—

jungkook hates overly loud sex.

it’s the reason why he takes the extra precaution to put socks on his bed frames to muffle any potential noises. if his partner was a huge moaner, he’d do what any sensible person would … stuff his fingers into their mouth. what? the girl usually doesn’t mind and it minimizes the noises. plus, it was hot.

win-win.

sex didn’t have to be over the top to show that you’re passionate. jungkook knows that very well.

it’s also why he originally lost a lot of respect for you when he overheard you and dohwan having sex that one time. well, mainly dohwan.

fuckin’ gorilla.

jungkook has been worried for you ever since that awkward glitter situation. he wanted to apologize and even talk to dohwan if it’d make things less stressful on your end.

you’ve ghosted him for weeks. no more walks, small talk, snack trades, or trips to the mailroom.

he has a feeling it has something to do with dohwan.

just like how he knows the sobs emitting through his walls tonight has something to do with him.

jungkook hates overly loud sex, but more than that, he hates the sounds of your cries.

—

‘cheer up, 307. you deserve some sweetness in your day. ps. i’m gonna make you run if you keep missing our walks. also? stop avoiding me, it’s annoying - jk’

you smile and sip the banana milk jungkook left outside your door.

he always had a way with cheering you up despite being a headache for some time in your life. your therapist recommended to decentralize men from your life for a while … sure, jungkook fits in that category, but he’s also your friend.

you slowly let him back in.

he’s been good to you. though, you can’t say the same for yourself. you’ve been a shitty neighbor and a shitty friend.

yet jungkook shrugs it off and treats you normally.

you’ve been mending a broken heart and jungkook has been a great company meanwhile.

“you really need to work on your conflict avoidance, 307.” jungkook says one evening. he’s sprawled out on your couch with a bag of chips in his hands. it’s movie night — a tradition he forced upon you because you’ve apparently never watched the movie trolls.

you peel your eyes from the screen and tilt your head, “what do you mean?”

“any time something gets tough, you run away. gotta stop that, say what’s on your mind and work it out.”

“hm.”

“what?” he presses.

“nothing.”

“see? you’re doing it again. just say what you wanna say,” jungkook rolls his eyes.

“fine,” you chew on your bottom lip, “i hate this movie.”

jungkook had picked trolls 2 and it was so much more awful in comparison to the first one you were forced to watch last weekend.

“fuckin knew it. you’ve been spacing out all night,” he laughs, “see, doesn’t it feel good to be honest bout your feelings?” he reaches for your remote to switch to another movie. you watch him. really take him in and almost want to laugh at how horrible your first couple of months was with him and now he’s in your apartment watching awful movies with you to nurse your brokenheart.

you really had read jungkook wrong. he wasn’t just some conventionally attractive man that used his pretty privilege to get his way. he was genuinely a good person.

which makes you think … why the fuck is he hanging around someone like you on a friday night? he could be hanging out with some friends or going on a blind date with a pretty girl. better yet, why isn’t he in a relationship with someone?

was he just like you?

his voice brings you out of your thoughts, “alright, spill it 307. you look like you have something else to say.”

you sigh.

“how are you still single? just … i know you’re always dating different people. it can’t be that bad for you right? i mean, if you’re struggling … i feel kind of hopeless for myself.”

jungkook looks at you, dimples on display as he contemplates on what he wants to say next. the thing about jungkook is that he looks like he belongs in your circle — fits perfectly, actually. has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable about asking hard questions. he may tease you, but he’ll never judge you.

he ruffles your hair.

“just haven’t found the right one. it takes time and i’m in no rush. you shouldn’t either.” you feel yourself soften from his remarks until, “or else you’ll end up with a gorilla again.”

—

jungkook is treading in dangerous territories.

aside from trying to potty train his new doberman puppy, bam, he’s faced with another issue.

he may have developed a small crush on his neighbor. he can’t pinpoint exactly when he started getting that fuzzy warm feeling around you. it was a telltale sign when he’d wake up and sleep to the thought of you.

you can’t really blame all of this on him though. you’ve been a little more open about hanging out with him since your breakup with dohwan. jungkook has gotten used to your presence as a result. some people would see it as using jungkook as a rebound, but he feels anything but that.

you’re a breath of fresh air to hang around after a long day of work. which is funny cause there was a period of time he considered hexing you. now? he longs to see you and fill in gaps of his day with you. when he doesn’t see you, he thinks of you.

that just might be his demise.

even bam has taken a liking to you and often refuses to let you go back home when you are over.

like dog, like owner.

“aw bammie,” you kneel down, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

bam whines and follows you to the door.

“you can stay if you like, the guys won’t mind.” jungkook reasons. he’s having a small get together with some of his friends and extended the invite to you. you declined, telling him you don’t want to intrude and he should spend some quality time with them.

“just say that you want to be with me 24/7 and go,” you joke. jungkook won’t admit to you he does.

“nah, just need someone to watch bam while i have some bro time.” he teases back.

“hire a dog nanny then,” your hands automatically reaches down to scratch behind bam’s ear. there’s no need to hire one cause you’d willingly take care of bam for free. it’s all fun and jokes, jungkook knows this. he laughs and holds bam back from following you out the door.

“be on your best behavior tonight for your daddy, ‘kay?” you talk to bam like you’re his mom and jungkook’s stomach does flips at the mention of ‘daddy’ leaving your lips, “if it gets too much, you can sleep over at my place.”

bam has a sleeping mat at your place too. you’ve gotten it for him when jungkook comes over to watch movies — insisted that the pup should have a comfortable space in your home.

jungkook feels like he’s sharing custody with you. everything feels more domestic and it’s fucking with jungkook’s head and heart. which is why he asked you to dog sit bam while he goes on a date next weekend with some client’s friend he met at the tattoo parlor. thinks this date would be a good reset from you.

you wave goodbye to him, a playful grin adorning your lips, “have fun tonight, 305. if it gets too much, you can also come to my place too.”

he hates when you tease like this. makes him feel like he holds a space in your life more than he already should. knows you’re joking, but can tell there’s some truth in your statement. you’re attached to him just as much as he is to you.

“also, try not to be too loud tonight.”

“no promises,” he laughs, “hobi-hyung will be over.”

you giggle, you’ve met hoseok in the passing and also teased him too for causing a ruckus at the housewarming party. all his friends like you — it’s no surprise jungkook would eventually too.

so yeah, he’s treading in dangerous territories.

—

you’ve really been focused on yourself and your friendships. on your hardest days where you yearn for intimacy, you force yourself to be okay with the idea and concept of being alone. there’s a lot of bad days, but they get better.

it’s not always about being in isolation though.

it’s about not being dependent on someone to fill a void.

with dohwan, you realized you fell in the pattern of needing to be around him and when he wasn’t there, the world crumbled beneath your feet. over time, you realized he wasn’t good for you.

wrong person, wrong time.

because the right person will always make you feel safe and seen.

jungkook was right. it’ll take time to find that person — there’s no rush.

yet, you have this disquieting feeling when you see him rustling through his home to get ready for his date tonight. what do you do when you feel like the right person might be slipping away under your nose?

right person, wrong time, you suppose.

bam, his not so small puppy, lays his head on your lap and would occasionally lift it when jungkook walks close. if bam is doting with you, he’s completely devoted to jungkook.

doesn’t realize that his dad is gonna leave you both until he puts on his shoes at the door.

“ah-ah, bammie, stay,” you hold him and he whimpers for jungkook.

“well? how do i look?” jungkook does a quick 360 and you wanna poke fun at him, but you can tell he’s on edge for whatever reason. he has no reason to be. he’s charming, handsome, and knows exactly what to say or do to make someone’s heart skip a beat as he’s done so to you numerous times — you’d never admit it.

he’s your neighbor and most importantly, your friend. it’s a sacred relationship and boundary you’re hesitant to break. so you swallow down whatever you’re feeling and smile reassuringly to him, “you look great, jungkook.”

he beams and extends his hands out for a high-five, “thanks, wish me luck.”

your hands make contact with his and it feels electrifying.

“no luck needed, mr. 305 worldwide.” he absolutely hates the new nickname you’ve given him, doesn’t argue back though, simply scoffs and looks at the time on his phone.

“now go before you’re late and bam bolts out the door for you.” you shoo him out his own apartment.

he reaches down to pat bam on his head and give him some tender smooches.

“call me if there’s an emergency or if you’re bored.” he tells you with his hands shoved in his pockets and some of his bangs fall onto his forehead. there’s something so boyish about his mannerisms … you swallow thickly when you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. a part of you wonders if you tell him to bail on the date, would he? you’re not cruel enough to do that to him and his date. they could be soulmates for all you know.

“and what? you’ll come entertain me?” your eyes squint, “go enjoy your date, 305. we’ll be here.”

before you know it, he’s out the door and you’re left wondering what if.

—

jungkook didn’t realize how much of a disaster the date was going until his date seated across from him rolls her eyes.

“i’m sorry … am i boring you with my story?” he was telling her how he had to help you break into your own apartment because you forgot to bring your keys in the middle of the night.

“it just seems like you’re wasting both our times.” she says and places her drink down. her red manicured fingers circle the rim of her cup.

he’s confused. jungkook has been doing his best to keep the date afloat by talking and asking questions. he thought it’s been going well, minus the couple of times he checked his phone to see if he got any emergency texts from you about bam.

“i mean, why are you here when you clearly like someone else?”

“i don’t get—wait, what?”

“your neighbor 007 or whatever.” she says. it’s the wrong number and she knows it, but wants to see if jungkook reacts, “you’ve been talking about her all night.”

has he? he was just making light conversation … you’re a part of his life so slipping your name here and there feels natural.

“look, you seem like a nice guy. you’re obviously good looking too. if you’re not looking for anything serious, we can go back to my apartment right now for some fun. but long term? it feels like you have someone waiting at home for you.”

and the mood goes sour. jungkook is used to this. used to his dates objectifying him as a quick and good fuck — granted, he’s played this to his advantage when he was younger. now? it feels meaningless. he isn’t upset at that.

it’s the utter realization that he does have someone special to him and you’ve been right under his nose all this time. he’s always telling you to be honest with your feelings, yet he can’t even bring himself to uphold that advice for whatever reason.

jungkook apologizes to his date again, pays for the tab, and rushes home.

—

home can be a place, but for jungkook, it’s seeing you on his couch and greeting him with a sleepy smile.

bam jumps off your lap to nudge jungkook’s leg for attention.

“has he been good?” jungkook asks while scratching bam’s head, though he stops momentarily at the sight of you stretching and your shirt lifts a little to reveal the curves of your hips.

“mhm, an angel. how was the date?”

he contemplates on lying, but knows better. needs to practice what he preaches.

“bad.”

“oh? wanna talk about it?”

“uh, i kinda fucked it up,” jungkook toes off his shoes and avoids your eye contact.

“classic, first impressions have never been your strongest suit.” you put on your jacket and jungkook panics at the thought of you leaving early. he exhales a breath he’s been holding when you plop back down on his couch where he soon joins you.

“i’m not always that bad.” he mumbles.

“i know, i’m just teasing you.” you reach over to pinch his cheek.

when he doesn’t reply, it gets you a little worried. you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.

“sorry—“

“i kept bringing you up during the date.” he cuts you off.

“oof, no girl wants to hear about another girl …” technically, you’re hoping jungkook doesn’t talk about this one … let alone his previous dates or exes.

“i know,” he murmurs, leans his head back, and sighs, “she … called me out on it.”

“good, as she should.”

jungkook hesitates with his next words, but pushes forward, “said it’s cause i liked you.”

you pause. you could hear a pin drop in the room, minus bam’s paws making contact with the hardwood floor.

“oh … um,” you’re not dumb, you understand what he’s implying. you just don’t know how you’re going to run away from this conversation.

“i know you’re already planning your escape, 307,” he chuckles. his laugh sounds a little melancholy and an instant flood of guilt rushes through you.

“what! no! i-i just don’t know what to say,” you nibble on your lips. you’re fucking scared for what’s to come.

“just hear me out, okay?”

you nod, listen to him clear his throat and exhale a shaky breath.

“i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. maybe it’s cause i’m a creature of habit or whatever … well no, i don’t think it’s that. i like being around you and i’m thankful you’re in my life.” he looks and smiles at you fondly, as if he is preparing himself for the biggest rejection, “i like you … a lot. you don’t have to accept my feelings nor do anything with it. these feelings are mine and i just wanted to be honest with you. at the end of the day, i’d still like to remain friends as long as you’ll allow me.”

you want to fucking cry. he’s always been better at words and expressing himself. you see it in how he treats his friends, his dog, his profession and art … most importantly, you. you also want to be honest with him, but it already seems like he’s accepting the fate of nothing more.

you owe him the truth at least.

“jungkook … i—“ you begin, “i like you a lot too.”

jungkook lets out an exasperating grunt — he thinks you’re pitying him.

“please don��t feel the need to sugarcoat, 307. i just wanted to be—“

you press your lips to his. the kiss was too quick for anyone to process anything. you’ll remember though. you’ll remember his strawberry flavored chapstick, the cold lip piercing barrels, and the way he leans in slightly to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon. jungkook’s eyes widen at the realization that you just kissed him. all too short and he doesn’t think he can stop thinking about you after this anymore even if he tried.

“your feelings are yours,” you hold his hand, “but these are mine too.”

he whispers your name lowly and you shake your head.

“i’m no good with words,” you confess, “i just know that i like you too. but … i’m also a fucking mess, jungkook.”

“huh? no, you’re—“

“yeah, i am. i just got out of something long term … it wouldn’t be good for me to jump into another relationship. i don’t think it’s fair for you to deal with all my baggage when i haven’t sorted myself out.”

he nods, a little dejected but he understands what you mean.

right person, wrong time.

“okay,” he finally says, “nothing will change. friends?”

“friends,” you agree.

it’s a promise out of respect for you. will you regret this? possibly. though, everything feels normal when he walks you to your door later and wishes you a goodnight.

“don’t be fucking weird after tonight. if you avoid me, i’m making you run 10 laps every friday, 307.”

“rude,” you roll your eyes, “i should be saying that to you. don’t be fucking weird or else you’re getting another glitter bomb in the mail.”

“that shit was the worst to get off.”

“funny as hell though.”

“yeah, for you.”

everything feels so natural and safe with jungkook. how he looks at you, laughs at your jokes, eyes twinkle when you do the same for him. you don’t need the night sky when you got galaxies staring back at you.

—

“with all due respect, you’re being stupid.” nayeon says through the speaker.

“how? we both agreed that staying friends would be the best.” you reply a little louder over your sink. your kitchen was overdue for a cleaning and the weekends were the perfect time to catch up on chores.

you’re on the phone with nayeon and it’s a good distraction while you busy yourself with other things at the same time. though, you’re sort of regretting the call now with nayeon berating you for your decision to remain friends with jungkook a month ago.

“people can still date and work on themselves. it’s not a linear thing.”

“yeah, but—“

“you’re just scared. i know you.”

“nayeon …”

“jungkook and dohwan aren’t the same. anyone can get hurt in a relationship, but you shouldn’t deny yourself of something out of fear.”

“yes, but … i don’t think i’d be able to face jungkook if something bad does happen.” you’re serious. running away is your strong suit and you’d move out immediately if shit hits the fan.

“so you’d have no regrets staying like this?”

you don’t reply and that was an answer in itself.

“why are you so hellbent on me and jungkook? i thought you hated him …” it’s sort of funny to be talking to nayeon of all people about jungkook. hell, it’s thanks to jungkook’s mess up on their first tinder date that helped you land your friendship with nayeon.

everything happens for a reason.

“i only hated him cause you did. that’s what friends do, silly. also, if you’re feeling awkward because he and i dated … don’t. there wasn’t anything more. anyways, stop avoiding. you always do this.” she’s right. you’re the queen of avoiding hard conversations.

“i don’t want to lose a friend, nayeon.”

“you won’t. but you’ll lose your chance at experiencing something beautiful, sweetie,” she says, “you owe it to yourself. but hey, i gotta go to my pilates class. i’ll text you later, okay? i love you!”

“okay, love you too. i’m sorry for being difficult. don’t pull a muscle in class!”

“if i do, will you give me a massage?” she laughs, “and no, you’re never difficult. just you being you.”

the call ends and you’re left alone once again with your thoughts. things haven’t really changed between you and jungkook. he’s still his chipper self. you just yearn for more time with him these days. every subtle touch … whether it be his hand on your lower back guiding you upstairs, his fingers brushing yours during the walks, or when he massages your feet upon request sends you into a place where you feel yourself succumbing to your deepest desires.

you want more.

you can tell jungkook does too. he’s unashamed in his affections towards you but he’ll never pressure you or cross that boundary you’ve set.

you realize it hurts to deny yourself of wanting someone who wants you just as equally.

—

you’re at jungkook’s place again one evening. bam is all tuckered out from his walk and jungkook is fixing a bowl of popcorn to snack on while you search through netflix for something to watch.

it’s your pick tonight and you wanted to watch a crime documentary. ghost and thrillers don’t interest you, but crimes? yeah, full body chills because they’re real.

you turn to see jungkook in a big white t-shirt with grey sweats — he looks so comfortable. he’s seasoning the popcorn and catches you staring at him. he shakes his head and smiles back down bashfully at his bowl.

he looks like home … no, he feels like home.

fuck.

you really are torturing yourself.

when jungkook settles onto the couch and the documentary starts, you scoot closer to him. you don’t know if you’re making a fool of yourself, but jungkook pays no mind. his arm circle around you effortlessly and you nestle your cheek into his chest.

so warm — he smells so nice. jungkook sports on a lax expression, yet you can feel and hear the rapid thumps of his heart.

“you sure friends cuddle when they watch shit together?” he mumbles, eyes trained on the television.

“no,” you look up at him, “do you not want to?” you start to move away, but jungkook holds you in place.

he feels your smile through his shirt. yeah, you’re torturing him and he’s enjoying it.

as the documentary plays, jungkook gets immersed in the story. he looks a little silly with his big eyes and mouth slightly ajar as he soaks in all the crime details and backstory. his hand involuntarily moves to massage your scalp and you feel yourself lulled to sleep under his touch.

after a while, he calls your name and gently shakes you awake.

“hey sleepyhead. had a good nap?” he muses.

“mhm, sorry … was so tired from work. did i miss a lot?” you look at the dark television screen and feel guilty.

“just the entire documentary,” he teases, “it’s alright, you wouldn’t be traumatized like me now. i know i’m going to be having nightmares.”

“‘m sorry,” you snuggle closer to him and his breath hitches, “anything i can do to help?”

“hmm …” he holds his thinking pose, “i don’t know, maybe a kiss?”

“just kidding, 307. it’s late, so let’s get you hom—”

“yeah? think a kiss will make you feel better?” you press on.

you knew he was joking, but there’s a surge of confidence coursing in you when you push up on him and he swallows hard. he says your name in warning but he makes no effort to move or push you away. he wants this badly too. been thinking about you and your lips since you last kissed him — never stopped.

“don’t do something you’ll regret.” his hand cradles your cheek.

“i’m not,” your nose brush against his, “i wanna kiss you. please, will you let me?” you ask with pleading eyes and jungkook lets out a shuddering breath and nods.

you look down at his parted lips and back at his hooded eyes. you’re not sure who moved first — it doesn’t matter.

when your lips meet, it’s like heaven and hell collided and made earth — waves crashing onto land, blue horizons, and the smell of pinewood after rain. you don’t think you can let go of this feeling any time soon and when you finally do give into your longings, life feels a little more salvageable … freeing.

jungkook slots his lips between yours, pulling you up to straddle his lap. he moans when your hands tangle in his hair and pulls you in closer if that was even possible.

you lick into his parting mouth when he pants, indulge in the way he sounds as he’s kissing you back. the kiss is hard and passionate — so much more different than the first one you had. there’s a sense of urgency here … like there’s a time constraint or limitation to your affections. you wish you could reassure him; though the best you can do at this moment is to drink him in as much as he allows you to. his hands roam all over your body and you shiver in pleasure when one of his hand travels to the front of your throat possessively. there’s no pressure in his hold, but it’s telling you that you belong here with him.

when you finally do pull away, you plant dainty kisses on the corner of his lips and jaw. he giggles at the tickling feeling and brings your face back to his to give you a much gentler kiss. though you are no longer kissing, your foreheads stay connected in place.

“there, much better, right?” you say breathlessly.

“mhm,” he replies, “should’ve used the trauma card earlier if i knew i’d be getting free kisses.”

your brain is going a mile a second, but you’re sure of this.

“you don’t need to,” you say a little uncertain. jungkook straightens himself in his seated position when he realizes you’re about to say something serious.

“you can kiss me whenever you want … if you want! i know i said we should stay friends, but i think i like you too much to just stay that way. i want to see where things go and i’m fucking scared. i mean, fuck, am i making any sense? please say something,” you’re rambling and jungkook can only smile as you unravel through your confession.

of course he wants more with you.

“just say you want me and go, 307.” he laughs when you pull away cutely. he has no intentions of letting you go and you had no intentions of leaving. it’s too comfortable in his embrace.

“we’ll take things slow, okay?” he kisses your nose in reassurance.

“okay.”

—

fast forward three months, you and jungkook have been dating each other — slow and steady as promised. no official title (yet) but you know he’s exclusively seeing you. you’re enjoying his company and there’s no rush. when there’s something special and secure, it’s all smooth sailing and calm tides. you never have to guess with him.

he feels the same with you.

this marks the 13th weekend date with you and he’s going to do it. jungkook is going to ask you to be his girlfriend. he’s fucking nervous … has a whole date planned: dinner, movies, then back to his place where he’ll officially ask you.

part of him wants to wait for the next weekend because the number 13 was bad luck, but he’s felt nothing but luck with you. luck in the chances of meeting you in this apartment complex, luck in your friendship, and now luck with the prospect of love.

so when your door swings open to reveal you in a short black satin dress, hair done prettily, and your skin dewey and sparkly from your makeup, he knew was going to make 13 lucky no matter what.

“you look beautiful,” jungkook compliments and holds out his hand to walk you down the stairs.

“you don’t look half bad too,” you taunt, taking his warm hand. there’s no malice cause jungkook knows how you feel about him. notices how your eyes rake over his form, has caught you checking him out plenty of times before, felt the way your lips moved on his skin to praise how hot he looked one evening despite him coming back looking like a sweaty hog that’s been run over by a train.

if you’re curious … aside from making out and heavy petting paired with some dry humping sessions here and there, no, they haven’t had sex. probably for the better, it’s already hard enough to separate from each other after every hangout.

slow and steady. you are both fine with that.

“sooo, you gonna tell me where we’re going or is this where you murder me?” you check your lip gloss in the rear view mirror. jungkook’s right hand naturally find its way to your thighs while he drives.

“you’ll find out soon,” he gives you a little squeeze and it sends a little tingle to your core.

—

it’s going terribly.

traffic was absolutely ass for no reason, so they get to their first destination 45 minutes later than anticipated. the restaurant he had reservations for let him know that the kitchen caught on fire the moment he parked in the lot.

okay, fine. to the movies it is.

except, the movie stopped halfway through due to some technical difficulties. he was going to lose his mind, but you were a good sport through it all. jungkook still had one final trick up his sleeve for you.

when you both finally get back to his place with bags of takeout, jungkook lets out a wail of frustration.

“bam, no!”

all the balloons he blew up have been popped. you look past his shoulders to see a torn up sign with the words: wil u e my fren?

bam prances to you and jungkook with his wagging tail, unaware of jungkook’s inner anguish and turmoil. jungkook runs his hands over his face and freezes in place.

“aw baby,” you try comforting jungkook, “it was an accident. bam didn’t know.”

“i know, i just … fuck, gimme a minute.” jungkook stalks over to his bedroom and closes the door. you place the bags of food on the dining table and crouch down to pet bam.

“you really upset your dad, bammie. he worked really hard on this,” you know bam doesn’t understand a single word you’re saying, but you’re disappointed for jungkook too. jungkook really put in the effort and you’re touched by it all. he really wants you and you want nothing more than to be his.

you feed bam his dinner and set the takeout in the fridge, unsure of when you and jungkook will be ready to eat.

hesitantly, you knock on jungkook’s door. know you don’t need his permission to come in — you’ve slept over plenty of times, but still do it out of courtesy.

“can i come in, kook?”

a moment of silence ensues before you hear a little, “… yeah.”

jungkook was on his bed, feet still on the floor with his arms sprawled out. poor boy.

you climb onto bed next to him and lay your head on his shoulder.

he’s visibly upset — not at you of course. he just wanted to make this special.

“that was fucking cute. no one has ever done that for me before.” you say. the best you got from dohwan were a bouquet of roses sent to your workplace. jungkook’s efforts superseded your expectations.

“which part? no dinner, no movies, or the shit show of a sign?”

“all of it.”

“pff, don’t lie.” he sulks.

you throw your leg over his torso to straddle his waist.

“i’m not! you’re so fucking sweet,” you move down to kiss his cheek when he doesn’t look up at you.

“come on, don’t you want my answer?” you place his hands on your hips, wanting him to touch you somewhere.

he cocks his brow at you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“fine fine, i’ll be your ‘fren’ if that’s what you want.”

he covers his face in embarrassment, “ugh, that shit was so humiliating. bam isn’t getting any treats for the next three days.”

“hey! don’t punish my baby. it was an honest mistake.” you reassure him, “plus, i gave him an earful.” yeah, and his dinner right after. it’s no wonder bam likes you a lot more these days.

“okay, okay … i’m still sorry about today. nothing went accordingly.” jungkook sighs and rubs soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“you’re not allowed to punish yourself either,” you say a matter of fact, “did you mean it though?” you look at him through your lashes.

“hm?”

“want me as your girlfriend?” when you finally say those words, it sets off a bundle of butterflies in your stomach.

jungkook quickly sits up, holding you securely so you don’t topple over, “of course, i do. just wanted to make it special for you.”

you felt fucking special.

so fucking special in how you said yes, saw how he beamed at your answer, kisses you silly, tongue running down your neck, the little bites on your collarbone — you’re on cloud 9.

he involuntarily drags your hips over his clothed length and you whimper upon contact.

“you hungry, baby? we didn’t have dinner yet,” jungkook asks innocently through his heavy breaths, but you’re too busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt. how could he possibly think about food at a time like this? then again, you have to remember he’s the biggest foodie known to earth. he’s caring of your wellbeing so of course he’d worry if you’re hungry.

he’s also your boyfriend now.

you shake your head. you don’t just want him — you need him.

you slide off of him and are on your knees in between his legs. he looks at you through his heavy lids when you clock your head to the side, waiting for the green light to take off his pants.

“you’ve been so good to me, planning this date … lemme show you how thankful i am.”

jungkook loves being praised and rewarded. he especially loves it even more coming from you. he lets out a moan when you run your hand down his clothed bulge. yes, jungkook has had sex before — honestly, don’t ask him about his body count … he’s not sure either. what he’s sure is that he loses all senses when you touch him — like a virgin touched for the very first time.

his pants are down and kicked off to the side, shirt unbuttoned haphazardly, and head thrown back when you settle between his legs to give his hard length a squeeze.

he’s so fucking big in your hand and your mouth nearly waters at the sight of his precum leaking from the slit of his cock. fuck, you don’t know how he’s going to fit in your mouth, but it doesn’t matter. you’re going to make him come undone one way or another.

“baby, i’m literally going to nut if you keep squeezing me like that.”

you laugh, “how long are you going to last inside me then?”

“fuck, you can’t say shit like that.”

“why not?” you press a small kiss on his hip bone and pump his cock with your hand. his eyes closes and mouth drops open at the change of movement.

“gonna nut even faster,” he chuckles.

jungkook hisses when you lick a long stripe underneath his shaft without warning. one of his hand reaches behind your head for support while the other one grips his bedsheets.

“oh god,” he lets out a small moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to bob your head at a pace that has him seeing stars.

his cock was lathered with your spit and his precum. the sounds you made while you sucked him off were nearly pornographic. his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when his cock hits the back of your throat.

“shit, oh f-fuck,” his fingers are caught in your hair and your moans vibrate against him when he gently pushes your head down while he fucks up into your mouth.

if you keep going like this, he wasn’t going to last long and he really wants to … can’t bring himself to cum in your mouth just yet. he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to nut quick, so he pulls you away when he nearly cums. you breathe heavily through your swollen lips. jungkook runs his thumb on your cheeks where some mascara has smeared as a result of your doing.

you’re still so fucking perfect.

he lifts you from your kneeled position back onto his lap and kisses you slow and tenderly. jungkook whines into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. your dress has ridden up on your waist, the the thin straps are loose and off your shoulders.

“i somehow fucked up the entire night and you still decided to give me the best head? must really like me or something,” jungkook looks at you endearingly and takes notice of how you’re rutting yourself onto his length.

“you know i do. my boyfriend deserves the best.” jungkook’s heart soars at hearing the word boyfriend leave your lips.

yes, he’s yours.

you shake in pleasure as you roll your hips deliciously slow on him. you’re practically soaked through your thin panties.

“did you get this wet just by sucking me off, baby?”

you nod and trail kisses on his cheeks and jaw, “all for you, kook. you always make me this wet.”

he takes so much pride in how he’s able to get you all worked up like this.

jungkook wasn’t expecting to have sex with you tonight, but it’s like you said … it’s special. the rest of your clothing join his in a pile on the ground. he rolls you onto your back and drinks in your naked form. you shy away from his stares and kiss up at him.

your hand reach between you both while he continues to kiss you and you position his still-hard cock in between your folds for that additional friction. the wet clicks mixes in with both your pantings and synchronized moans. every time the head of his cock slides and catches onto your swollen clit, you shudder and arch your back in pleasure.

“want you to fuck me,” you kiss his pouty lips and down his neck, “please?”

jungkook leans back a little, sits on the heels of his feet, and pushes your thighs close to your chest. the angle lets him move and slide your hips up and down his length even more. you gasp and call out his name in wanton.

he drops your legs down and closes the distance between you both again. his bare chest brushes against yours and he lines his cock at your entrance.

“you’re so perfect,” his breath fans over your face, “so lucky to have you.” jungkook swoops his arms under you in a tight embrace. you look at him through your glassy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck.

your heart swells at his words.

there’s little to no resistance when jungkook finally enters you.

it’s a mixture of sweet, nasty, loving, and primal desire how jungkook fucks you into his sheets. he hates loud sex, but he wants to hear all of you. the way you mewl, whimper, cry, and breathe — all of it.

and when you wrap your legs around him and coax him into cumming inside you while your fingers trace the planes of his back, he knows he’s done for.

you giggle, nudge your forehead on his, hold his hand, and kiss all over his face. the afterglow on you both is stunning.

“you’re right, you didn’t last long at all.” you hum. jungkook raises one of his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. it’s a fucking lie since jungkook knows he made you cum at least twice in the span of fucking you, but who would you be if you didn’t try challenging him a little?

he doesn’t have to say anything before slipping down your body and burying his face in between your legs. he licks up your slit tentatively, watches your brows furrow and mouth part, and moans into your heat when your hand travels to his head to push him down as he did to you.

“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere,” jungkook means it both literally and figuratively. doesn’t understand how anyone could part from you. it’s their loss.

he continues lapping up your mixed essence, nipping at your inner thighs on occasion when your hips jerk away from the pleasure.

“kook, mmph- yes! just like that,” you encourage when he wraps his lips around your clit. he sucks, soothes, and makes out with your messy cunt. he wanted to draw out the night longer, toy and dangle your pleasure in front of you as a punishment for your teasing. knows he’s the reason you’re this wet, can’t bring himself to edge you on a special night like this — maybe another time when he’s feeling more mean. he has all the time in the world with you; there’s no rush.

tonight is all about you, his girlfriend — his.

“so close, baby,” you look down, hips stuttering under his hold as he doesn’t let up with his ministrations on your clit. he trails his fingers at your entrance, coating them with your juices before entering you slowly.

“yeah? won’t you give me another one? come on, i know you can do it,” he says between bated breaths. you shake and arch your back, mouth parts open but no sound comes out as you let the waves of pleasure ride over. the squelching sounds increase as his fingers fuck into you faster.

“i-i’m fucking cumming,” you cry out and jungkook nods in acknowledgement, moaning with you to draw out your orgasm. when you come for the third time that night, he wants to paint the image in his memory and revisit it on a rainy day. no promises that he won’t sport a hard on every time. the sight of you quivering, hands squeezing your chest and rolling your nipples between your fingers to prolong the pleasure, has his head spinning. jungkook trails kisses down your pussy, takes his fingers out and licks them clean before spreading you wider to clean you up with his tongue. he only part ways with your cunt when you whine for him.

he comes back up your body slowly, presses his lips on your tummy and giggles when you squirm from the sensation. however, when he is finally face to face with you again, jungkook has on this determined look.

he can’t seem to get enough of you and your body. addicted, he is.

“you’re not done with me, aren’t you?” you give him that pretty post-orgasmic smile.

never, he thinks.

jungkook was about to reply until the rumbles of your stomach cuts through the silence. it should be embarrassing but you feel close enough to jungkook that you both laugh at how unserious the situation is.

“come on baby, let’s go eat our dinner.” he pulls you up and puts you in one of his oversized t-shirts.

you still believe your ideal neighbor should be mindful, quiet, and kind. jungkook was certainly not mindful, quiet, or kind with how he entered into your life.

though, he wasn’t just someone who’d be your neighbor by the law of attraction and the cosmic pull of the universe.

love is patient, love is kind.

you know you’ve found your home — you just never expected it to be right next door.

fin.

—

a/n: tadaaaaaa. what’d you think? 😜

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #bts fanfic #jeongguk smut #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook friends to lovers

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charliemwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Hahahaha good morning I had the wildest dream last night so I’m going to inflict it on all of you:

(I’m not done with keeper/kept. Just had to get this out)

Warnings for obsessive/possessive behavior, unhealthy and semi-one sided relationship, not-quite-dark John price.

John Price who decides it time he has a wife. Not retiring, god no! He’s not done yet. But his home is lonely when he’s on leave; he’s getting sentimental as he gets “older”. So, he wants a wife.

In theory, it sounds like just what he wants. A pretty warm thing snoozing in his bed when he gets home at ass o’clock in the morning. Someone to fret over new scars and fresh bandages. Someone to fuss at him for “taste testing” meals and wrinkle their nose at his cigars.

In practice, it’s not so easy. If it was, he reckons he would have been married by now. Good thing he’s already got the perfect candidate picked out.

You own a small business in his town. Not fabulously wealthy, but comfortable and independent. Something to keep you busy while he’s away but you make your own hours so your schedule it flexible to see him when he has infrequent leave.

And he adores you, knows that you’ve got more than a little crush on him. You smile and blush and reciprocate his interest, have only refrained from perusing anything because you didn’t think he was serious. But oh, he is.

One day you say something particularly charming and he says, “marry me.”

He’s been dropping these little jokes for a while now and you always start laughing because it’s just the kind of dramatic humor you love. Today you say something different than your usual overdramatic “oh but it could never work, captain.”

Today you say, “if only.”

How pathetic is it that you’re holding a candle for a man you’ve never even gotten a coffee with? Your family laments that your can’t spend your whole life married to your job. That they want grandchildren and nieces/nephews, someone to tell embarrassing stories about you to on holidays. You used to roll your eyes, but the prospect doesn’t feel so obligatory anymore.

Anytime you imagine it, it’s John Price there. You’ve stopped trying to imagine it for your heart’s sake.

Except a week later he’s sweeping into your shop and dropping a kiss on your cheek. An unusual greeting, but maybe he’s in a good mood. His hand lingers on the small of your back while you show him the new product that just came in.

You live above your shop and one day he shows up at the door with a bottle of wine, telling you he could use some good company. You’re shocked and confused but he looks like an amalgamation of every heartthrob in a hallmark or romcom you’ve ever “ironically” enjoyed. You invite him in.

By mid morning, he’s had you in every room of your apartment. Ate you out slow and greedy on the counters. Bent you over the dining table. Bounced you on his cock on your couch. Fingered his cum out of you in the bathtub. And absolutely ruined you twice over in your own bed.

He even changes the sheets before the two of you pass out that final time. And when you finally do wake up, he’s taken the initiative to brew coffee and make breakfast. It’s like a dream.

He fucks you against the door before he leaves.

When he’s deployed again, he calls you every night. You don’t expect it the first time, but it’s a sweet gesture to show things aren’t ruined. You’re not expecting the second time either and have to call him back when you climb out of the shower. The third time you wait for it, but still startle a bit when his name pops up on the screen.

He calls you every night he can while he’s away. You don’t know what to make of it.

Then one day you come back from errands to see movers in the yard. You think it’s some kind of mistake until John meets you at your car.

“Fire in the next building over,” he explains. “Their insurance will cover all the damages but it’s not safe to stay in your place. Mine’s just up the road. Figured you could stay until it’s sorted out.”

You want to be annoyed, and you almost are. But the overwhelm of nearly losing everything - only to have all the stress already handled and the important, nerve wracking decisions smoothed over? You just take the good luck.

To thank John for his generosity (and to fill the void of not running the shop) you bustle around his too-big house. Cook meals, keep things tidy. Keep John company when he manages to snag you from your gratitude-induced work.

He spends hours fucking you nice and slow, whispering things you barely remember in your ear. That you’re perfect for him, so sweet like a little wife, that he’d come home to you for the rest of his life. You kiss him quiet and rock back against him when it starts sounding too tempting.

Eventually, the repairs on your shop/apartment are done. It feels like a rude awakening to a pleasant dream. Instead of moving your things back, John moves more things in. When you tell him that you appreciate his kindness, but you should probably get back to your own space, he gets an odd look. Asks what you mean when this is your space.

And the trap springs closed.

“John,” you half-laugh, shaking your head. “We’re not actually married you know?”

“Not last I checked.”

The marriage certificate gets framed in the bedroom you’ve been sharing for a month. You storm out and stay in a hotel. He lets you for three days before coming to retrieve you. When you try to be stubborn, he gives you an exasperated look (as if you’re the one being unreasonable) and politely asks that you not make a scene by forcing him to carry you of there.

For your own reputation, you comply, glowering out his car window the whole ride to his house. Try to give him the silent treatment which lasts about 30 minutes before he’s got you moaning and whining on his cock.

He drives you to the shop in the morning and picks you up at night. Anytime you try to put your little foot down, he just scoops you off them. The neighbors start cooing that he’s such a good man. You try not to scream.

When he’s finally deployed again, you try to move all your things back to your home. Except the movers apologetically tell you that they can’t trespass on John’s property.

Fine, you’ll do it yourself. Somehow.

You pack two suitcases and some of your cookware. Load it all up in a rental - because John sent your damn car into the shop - and trying to get comfortable in your own flat again.

Except it’s all wrong. The scent of smoke still lingers, it’s cold because the heating hasn’t been turned on yet this year. Half your things are gone and there’s no food in the fridge or pantries. You tough it out. Buy a ready-made meal and new bed linens and pillow. Sleep in a bed too cold even with the heat finally on.

When John calls, you don’t answer. He sends a text that simply reads “I love you.” You toss your phone across the room.

The next night, when he calls again and you don’t answer, he sends a “stay safe, love.” You spend twenty minutes with fingers poised over the keys. Chug a glass of wine and send back a neutral “you too, John”.

When he calls on the third night, you pick up, bark a sharp “knock it off” and hang up. Another text that he was so happy to hear your voice.

Another call, you pick up and demand “what are you doing?” He chuckles on the other end. “Calling my darling wife. I miss you.” You believe him. That’s the worst part.

When he gets back, you ride the long, long river of denial right up until he’s at your door, eyebrows arched. “Really, love,” he hums, “you didn’t have to come all the way over here just because you missed me.”

You want to hit him. You storm off to your bedroom instead. He wanders the house. You hear him clattering in the kitchen and wandering around the living room. When you hear the door close, you think he’s finally left and given all this up.

Twenty minutes later, he’s casually removing the door (sans hinges) and gathering you up. When you get back to his house, he carries you inside and fucks the tantrum right out of you in the shower, growling that you don’t smell like home anymore.

When you wake up from your three-orgasm induced nap, he’s washing the clothes you took to your old flat. On your left hand is a pretty diamond with “JP” carved into the band.

At the store, people start calling you “Mrs. Price”. The neighbors (John’s neighbors) invite you over as “the Prices”. You glare at him when he starts looking too smug about it.

When he’s set to deploy again, he sits you on the kitchen counter, caging you in with arms.

“Don’t make me come get you this time,” he warns, pressing kisses along your jaw. “This is gonna be a rough one. I just want to see you when I get home.”

It’s a warning that you know to heed. You don’t try to leave this time. When he calls, you answer, rattling off stupid details about your day. You’re shocked to hear him remember names and dates and tasks with everything else hes got going on. Promises he’ll deal with the creep at the post office when he gets home.

“And… you are coming home… right?” you ask.

“Nothing could keep me away, love.”

He doesn’t call for three days straight. You tell yourself the tightness in your chest is just anxiety over how the hell to handle his assets if he’s dead.

At 3am, the bed dips, a warm body pressing up against your back. You recognize John’s arms wrapping tight around your waist. You stir.

“Are you alright?” you ask.

“Perfect now, love.”

“Mm welcome home.”

“Good to be home, gorgeous.”

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #john price x reader #john price #captain john price

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shelbygraces · 6 months ago

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i wanna thank everyone who came to my subathon, and all my friends that raided or came to chat! the support was insane and i’m so so grateful. with my recent and sudden move, this was so helpful and brought me so much peace, because i didn’t move under the greatest of circumstances.

it was in a matter of days that i found a new home, hired movers and packed up all my things. and it was because someone, who got my address from the people who had doxxed me, got into my building and came up to my apartment.

so obviously it was not safe for me to stay. i spoke against the behaviors of people sending death threats and doxxing online several times but unfortunately my voice alone isn’t enough to stop every horrible person from doing a horrible thing.

i’m so thankful to my friends who offered me a place to sleep and who made sure i felt safe again. things haven’t been exactly easy, but they’ve been getting tremendously better. i have a beautiful new home that’s everything i could have dreamed of. there’s more space for me and my cat. i’m safe, i’m loved, i’m cared for.

i wasn’t sure i would share that this happened at all because i didn’t want anyone to feel like they “won” by forcing me to move. but the truth is i left behind a place where i experienced a lot of pain, and that was something i needed. now i’m somewhere new and my soul feels so at peace. and i’m really excited for things moving forward!

i just want to continue encouraging kindness from others. meeting each other with a little more compassion and understanding. and to know it is never ok for anyone to take away a persons safety in this way ❤️

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sp0o0kylights · 2 years ago

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Indie horror filmmaker Eddie Munson, high off his first big (underground but notable) success, knows the movers and shakers of the film world have their eyes on him.

They're just waiting to see if he was a one hit wonder before they open all the doors he's been trying to kick down.

His next upcoming film is his chance, his shot at finally making it. Of being like Rob Zombie and the other creators he looks up to that masterfully blended metal and horror.

This is his golden ticket.

The project starts off smooth. His last success has greased the wheels, and things fall into place faster than ever before.

He's got the best idea for this insane haunted house story, a true "mazes in mazes" type of deal with a queer twist. A real look at how a place can haunt a person just as easily as a ghost can.

Everything's going swimmingly--until one of his leads drops out the day they're due to start shooting.

No call no show's, and later, Eddie will find out the guy got a last second call back to be a contestant on one of those Love Island bullshit romance gigs (and laugh his ass off when the main love interest takes one look at Billy Hargrove and goes on a five minute rant about ugly mullets on national television) but right now?

He's fucked.

He's called in every favor he has for this film. Maxed out every credit card he owns, tapped every contact, got on his hands and knees and begged his rising star journalist best bud to help him market it. (Which Nancy agreed too, for way less cash than she should have.)

Eddie can't get anyone on the phone, much less find a replacement actor and the amazing place they rented, that is so dark and wonderfully eerie, is booked out the rest of the year as an AirBnB.

If he doesn't film now, he loses it all.

Cue the other lead, unknown theater actor Steve Harrington, watching his hair pulling, tire kicking, 'cursing and hopping while holding a toe' mental breakdown and asks why Eddie himself doesn't act in it.

"Just go full Kevin Smith man. Act and direct." He says, with an easy grin.

Jeff, Eddie's tried and true videographer, trades glances with Gareth and Grant (Eddie's long used special effects and makeup team, who double for about twelve other jobs because they're also his best friends and they're all in this together, make or break.)

"We don't really have a lot of other options." Gareth hedges. "You're already using me and Grant as background characters."

Eddie, hands fluttering around his face as though trying to wave away this entire situation, squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a pained hiss.

"Fine, fine!" He announces with the air of a man running towards a fire. "Fuck it, this is our one shot and so help me I will be shooting it!"

Steve politely hides a laugh with a cough.

"Chuckle all you want big boy, I'm going to tragically romance you so hard people will forget both of our characters actually live." Eddie snarls.

Steve, the handsome bastard, just winks. "Looking forward to it."

Eddie blushes, but hides it with a surge of frantic energy, conveyed by lots of yelling and moving and getting the ball rolling.

Two days later, Steve would give the performance of a lifetime down on his knees, covered in a literal pound of fake gore, booty shorts and nothing else as he sobbed about how a lover could become a home. His hands clawed at Eddie's jeans before resting a tear stained face on a slim leg as he bent his body towards Eddie like it hurt to be away from him.

Eddie would later receive equal praise in his own acting during the scene, with the world and every reporter in it asking how he conveyed an otherworldly panic so beautifully throughout Steve's performance. What was he thinking, to evoke those expressions on his face?

The way his own pale hand, unmarred by blood and acting as a metaphor for the plot, would come to stroke Steve's cheeks.

Eventually he'd come up with a smooth polished answer that cheekily pleased his audience, but nothing would ever come close to the truth.

("Eddie I've known you since grade school." Jeff said that night, a scant few hours after they'd wrapped. "You can act man, but not like that."

Eddie made a wild "shut up" gesture, looking frantically over his shoulder before admitting; "You saw how close his face was to the prince of darkness!? I was seconds away from popping a boner next to his lips, in front of the 4K camera!”

Eddie bounced into Jeff’s face so he could hiss: “He fucking had his chin on my thigh, Jeff, and I am only a man. A mere mortal!"

"So we're gonna unpack all of that later." Jeff said finally, when he'd managed to get his mouth working and Eddie back out of his personal space. "But dude, we've talked about you calling your dick the prince of darkness."

Eddie flipped him off.)

One year later and critics named Corroded the best horror film of the year, praising the camera work, practical effects, and how there wasn't a soul alive who was surprised to hear Eddie and Steve were dating after their explosive on screen chemistry.

No one ever quite understood the prince of darkness jokes or why Steve mentioning it made Eddie blush, but that was a secret to find out later.

Today on WIP’s I have no intention of writing, indie horror movie AU!

#at some point this became a warmup for the warmup #and it feels very silly #LOL #steddie #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #horror movie AU #no upside down #eddie would have the STUPIDEST names for his dick #I will die on that hill #that is a man who has put googly eyes on his third leg #and then cried because they wouldn't come off #its why he loves steve bc steve would talk to it like a beloved pet #daddy misssess youuuu #corroded coffin as a unit hates them so much when they do this shit its the bane of their existance

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yelenaslyubov · 5 months ago

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Be My Baby

main masterlist || florence pugh || requests

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: florence pugh x fem!reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: MINORS DNI (18+), smut, reader receiving, fingering, reader starts story married to a cis man!, cheating

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: (inspired by florence’s new shoot with vogue and set in the mid-to-late 1900s), after moving to the suburbs for a quieter life, your next door neighbor turns out to be a sweet surprise. infatuated by her personality, you make it your mission to get to know her better, even if that means breaking the rules.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 2.8k

A thinly paved road and bushels of trees flew past on either side of the car. Being away from the city was a dream at last, as you had begged your husband for years at the opportunity. Now, he had the chance and he took it.

It was just as you had pictured it; perfectly wooded with plenty of neighbors around to keep you company. Your husband would work in the city, which was about an hour drive, but it was what you asked for with easy living.

As you neared the end of the road, you passed a large house coming up on the right. The sharp home was white with plenty of wood finishes. It seemed to fit just right in front of the trees.

Just like you remembered, your house was the last on the road and it looked just like the pictures you had seen in the mail. The accents of stone and black trim were to die for, and you knew the inside would be an even better satisfaction.

The car pulled into the driveway and it stopped with a squeak. The smile on your face could not be disguised. Your husband opened his own door but regretted not opening yours as well. Your smile faded as you helped yourself out of the car.

“Well, I hope it is everything you’ve dreamed of because I spent a pretty penny on it.” Even the sound of his voice repulsed you more than you could ever imagine.

Truthfully, this was all for you. You knew that getting the dream house you wanted allowed you to be in peace for most days. Your husband traveled for a living which left you in solitude to your heart's content.

When you walked into the house, boxes of your belongings littered the floor. The movers had gotten there the day before you and dropped everything off. The only thing put together was your bed, thank goodness.

“Hopefully this can all be unpacked by the morning, I need to leave tomorrow early for the airport,” your husband said.

“So soon?” you asked with an undertone of happiness.

He shot you a glare. “Yes, so soon. I couldn’t imagine you would understand.”

And so, the night was spent listening to records on vinyl after you were able to find the turntable, while each of you made a silent effort to unpack your life. By about midnight each of you called it quits and decided to go to bed.

Your bed felt just like it always had, but with a new view. Your eyes fluttered shut as you watched the tall pine trees dance in the breeze swooping by. How lovely it was to finally be surrounded by nature.

By morning your husband had already left with no trace but a simple note at your bedside that read “car delivery this afternoon. I will see you later.”

Later. Later could mean anything, so you anticipated hours or even days that he could be gone. Without a car until the afternoon left you stranded at home with no food, which seemed just like him.

You stumbled out of bed and threw your green, silk robe around you as you shivered. You nearly jumped at the sight in front of you in the mirror. The move had clearly been rough, with your disheveled hair and mascara smudges painted under your eyes. Luckily, with the unpacking you did last night you had just enough collected to take a shower and make yourself more presentable.

You made your way into your new bathroom that was covered with baby pink tile, along with a toilet and bathtub to match. You reached for the dial in the shower, but just before you were able to turn the water on you heard the doorbell ring. You waited a moment just in case you misheard, but it rang again.

Living in a new place called for precautions because you did not know what you would find behind the front door. You hoped for the car delivery, but you assumed that was slim.

You approached the door and peaked out the window beside it; no car. You walked closer to the door and jumped when the doorbell rang again.

“Hello?” a sweet voice spoke from the other side of the door. A woman.

Your chest became a bit lighter when you realized it was a woman. You wrapped your robe tighter around you since you did not know exactly what to expect when you opened the door.

The lock snapped to the left with a pop and you opened the door to reveal a blonde haired woman.

“Good morning! Oh, I’m sorry if I woke you up!” she exclaimed.

“You didn’t wake me, it’s no problem at all,” you responded.

You felt severely underdressed standing in front of her. She was wearing a light blue dress with white trim and shoes to match. Her hair was cut shorter but you could see the curls that were meticulously curved above her forehead. You became very distracted by the way she presented herself and the pretty smile she had.

“I saw you get in last night and thought I would just bring something over for you from my family. My husband and I live in the house on the right through the trees.” You looked in the direction she was pointing and it turned out to be the house you noticed when on the road last night.

“Oh my, well thank you very much, I appreciate that!” Your new neighbor handed you the glass dish of food. “My name is y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you.” You held out your hand for her to shake.

“My name is Florence Pugh, it’s wonderful to meet you. It’s nice to have a friendlier face around here, most of the women I’ve met have been absolute vultures, but I can tell that we’ll get along just right,” she giggled and it warmed your heart.

“I appreciate you coming and introducing yourself to me. I’m new to the area and don’t know a soul, so having some company around here will be so lovely,” you expressed.

“Anything, my dear. Well, I best get back home and leave you to your day.”

You hesitated to protest her departure. “Well, my husband travels for work and I’m not sure when he will be back, so if you’re not up to anything…”

“I’ll be back in an hour to help unpack!” she said.

“You’re too kind, I appreciate you, and this food,” you laughed.

“It’s no problem at all! I’ll see you in a flash!”

She was gone just like she had come and you couldn’t help but watch her leave. The flow of her dress rocked back and forth with her hips and her hair bounced as she walked.

You went back inside and tried to resume as you were. You put the food in the fridge and tried to contain your excitement for the dinner you would be having.

That day, Florence came back over and helped you unpack for the rest of the night. You shared your stories with one another and laughed until your stomachs hurt. A real friendship began to blossom between the two of you, which helped with your boredom.

A couple months went by and your husband had been back to the house a couple times before traveling again for work, and Florence never left your side. You saw your friend almost each day and adored every second spent together. She made your world feel less lonely just by being there.

One morning while your husband was gone, of course, you decided to take a walk over to Florence’s house to see her. You noticed her husband stomping to his car with a look that could kill. He got in the car and drove away with only dust behind him. You tried to stay hidden until he was down the road, then you approached their house.

You knocked on the door and heard footsteps hurrying towards you. She opened the door and she was crying.

“Oh Flossie, what’s the matter? Is everything alright?”

She sniffed and wiped away her tears. “Yes, I’m alright.”

“You’re not alright and you know it.” You slid inside past her, closed the door, and took her hand while dragging her over to the couch. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“We’re just having marital problems, that’s all. Just a rough patch.”

“You’ve seemed off the last couple weeks, so I wouldn’t say it’s all marital problems,” you said.

You poured the two of you a glass of white wine and brought out your box of cigarettes, offering one to Florence as well.

“Y/n, it’s 8 in the morning, we can’t drink yet!”

“Says who?” you smiled, which made Florence smile back.

The two of you talked for a couple hours and Florence poured her heart out to you, all of it that she could at least. She explained the indifferences between her and her husband, as well as her own personal indifferences.

You placed your hand on top of hers and squeezed it. “I’m sorry you have to do that all on your own,” you said.

“Believe me, you being here helps more than you will ever know.” Florence smiled at you, her kind eyes meeting yours and getting lost in each other.

She had been looking at you longer than anticipated, but you couldn’t seem to look away. Florence looked from your eyes to your lips; back and forth, and back and forth.

Before you could control either one of your impulses, each of you were leaning in close, meeting each other in the middle. Her lips found yours so easily and you closed your eyes. You couldn’t believe the comfort and softness you felt for her, even in this unexpected moment.

You were so wrapped up in the moment that you hadn’t realized what was actually happening. Florence seemed to gain consciousness the same time as you and you both pulled away quickly.

“I- I’m so sorry y/n, I don’t know what overcame me!” Florence said frantically.

“Please, don’t apologize, Flossie, it’s alright. Just calm down.”

Florence was pacing around the room, anxiously picking at her hands not knowing what to do. “This is so unlike me, I’m so sorry,” she kept apologizing.

“Florence!” you tried to get her attention. “It’s alright, I promise. No harm done.”

You grabbed her hands so she would start to calm down a bit. You smiled at her to reassure her that all was well.

“I believe you then,” Florence smiled. “You better be going, I’m sure you have things to do.”

“When do I ever have things to do?” you laughed.

“Well, you know…”

You could tell that one way or another, Florence was trying to make you leave, so you decided to go ahead and go before she kicked you out.

“You’re right… I should get going. I’ll see you later on, Flossie. You take care of yourself, you hear?” She nodded in response and you left her standing in the middle of the living room.

As you got home, you felt confused and disoriented as to what happened. You had to admit, you didn’t hate it, but you knew it was wrong. You both had husbands and you were both… women. Even with the doubts and differences in your mind, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Florence didn’t leave your mind all night, or for several days for that matter. You figured you were better off leaving the two of you with some space after what happened. Florence was clearly shook up about it and you didn’t want to push her. You wanted her to come to you first; and that’s exactly what she did.

One day, a couple weeks after the incident between you and Florence, you had just finished up cleaning the kitchen and vacuuming the house, so you decided to hop in the shower to clean up.

It happened almost the same as it started between the two of you. Before you had the opportunity to shower, your doorbell rang. You answered it to find Florence waiting for you.

“Hello, I thought I would stop by and see how you’re doing, but I can see that you’re busy-”

“Flossie, please don’t go,” you begged.

Florence stopped before she could leave. “I’ve missed that— ‘Flossie.’”

“I’ve missed you,” you smiled. “Come in.” The two of you made your way to the couch and sat down.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been by, I’ve just been… thinking a lot and I just feel bad for that day.”

“Please, don’t apologize anymore,” you told her. “It was just something silly in the moment, it meant nothing.”

Florence’s head dropped and she looked down at her hands. “Right, it meant nothing.”

You looked at her and saw the sadness that she expressed. You took her hand and she looked back at you.

“Unless… it did mean something?” you asked. Instead of sadness, her eyes were hopeful, just like yours.

“I know it’s not right, but I can’t seem to help it. I can’t stop thinking about you,” Florence said.

It was more forced this time, much more indeed. Florence crashed herself into you, knocking you down on your back against the couch. These two weeks left you hungry for each other, leaving you starved and grabbing for anything you could touch.

Her hands grasped your blushed cheeks, your tangled hair, and the spaces of your neck. You held her flush against your body, not wanting this secret moment to end.

Each of you couldn’t stop yourself, which is how you found yourself in the position of your robe being taken off. Your body was exposed to the brisk air, but you didn’t seem to mind.

There was no time for Florence to get a good look at you because she was too busy touching every part of you. She was quick to drag her hand down your front half and stopping down before your stomach.

Hesitation was not an option because you both knew you may never get this moment again if anyone were to find out. Without thinking, Florence drew her fingers through your center which caused you to squirm.

You let her do whatever she desired with you simply because she was Florence. Part of you had waited for this moment, but another part was taken by surprise that it was happening at all.

She began rubbing her fingers all through your cunt. It didn’t seem to matter what she did to you, your body was completely euphoric.

Florence’s fingers rubbed circles on your clit while you cried out of pleasure. You had never felt anything that had been quite of this measure, and you didn’t think you ever would again.

She picked up the pace while her lips were still all over your face and body. You couldn’t stop moving and reacting to the touch you were receiving from her, so Florence had to take matters into her own hands.

She barred down and put her weight on your body, preventing you from squirming too much.

“It’s so cute how much you move under me,” Florence said, turning your cheeks hot. Her words didn’t help you move any less.

You could feel yourself getting closer, as it didn’t take much for you to relinquish yourself to her completely.

“Flossie, I think I’m-” you tried to get out.

“I know, my dear. You can do it,” she whispered to you.

All it took was her words and the gentle but hot kiss she left by your ear that did you in. Your moans could be heard loudly over Sam Cooke who was playing from the turntable across the room.

You felt in a daze as your high came to a close, and all you could see now were the hazy eyes of Florence staring back at you. She rubbed the side of your face and swiped the hair out of your face.

You sat up out of surprise. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

“Me neither,” Florence giggled.

You stood up and got your footing before looking at Florence. She looked so naturally ethereal with the white pleated dress she had on, along with her messy royal looking hair. She stared at you and covered her mouth with her hand, laughing at you.

“What’s the matter?” you smiled.

“I didn’t even realize I did that much damage.”

You walked over to the mirror and gasped. There were dozens of lipstick marks all over your face and chest.

You smiled at her in the mirror. “That only means you have to help me clean it all up again.”

You took Florence’s hand and pulled her towards the bathroom while a trail of each of your clothes littered the hallway.

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freedomfireflies · 2 years ago

Text

Take Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

The one where you and your best friend, Harry, decide to move in together.

And christen every inch of the new apartment.

Word Count: 4.6k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Harry, you can’t be serious—”

“I am. Sit.”

With a huff, you step closer to where he’s lying on the floor, those beautiful, big green eyes peering up at you. “We have a ton of work to do, okay? And the movers will be here any minute—”

“Don’t care.” He shifts a bit, back arching from the carpet as he smooths his shirt down, getting ready. “Sit.”

Your hands find your hips and you toss him an amused frown. “Harry—”

He grabs your ankles. Tugs until you lose your balance and go crashing to the ground. And he catches you, palms on your waist to make sure you’re steady before sliding them down to your thighs.

“Harry—”

“Shh. I’m busy.”

He pulls you to his face, fingers slipping around the crotch of your large cotton shorts until he can pull them aside. He smirks when he sees there’s nothing else underneath.

“Well, well, well,” he tsks, and you could smack the dimples off his face. “Seems you forgot something.”

You snort. “All of my underwear is packed, okay—”

“Sure.” He grins. “Yeah, no, I’m sure that’s it. I’m sure you definitely didn’t think to leave any out for today. Especially since we’re doing so much packing. And moving. And running around.”

Your expression gives you away. As does the subtle whine that rips free when he lets the tip of his nose ghost across the tender skin of your leg. “Harry…we can’t—”

“We can.” His voice is resolute as he trails his lips closer to your cunt. Tongue licking his bottom lip in anticipation. “This is our place, baby. We can do whatever we fucking want.”

Our place. It makes your heart as warm as your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile.

It’d taken a bit of convincing from Harry to get you to move in with him. But after some extensive apartment hunting, you both found the place you wanted to call home.

And now, here you are, in your new home. Surrounded by boxes and somewhat empty rooms as Harry insists on christening this new adventure with you by having you sit on his face.

In fact, you’d no sooner walked through the door and set some of your stuff down before he suggested it.

And proceeded to throw himself onto the ground in wait.

“Harry,” you try again. A desperate whimper that seems to urge him on.

“Darling,” he retorts, fingers curling around your skin as he plants you above his mouth. “Just let me have a taste, hm? Wanna remember today like this.”

And you’re barely able to reply with a fatigued nod before he yanks you down and sucks you between his lips.

He starts fast. Quick licks to your folds and clit. Just enjoying you. Enjoying how easily you fall apart. Your hands in his hair, scratching and pulling. The pain.

He loves the pain.

Teasing you is far too easy. Circling your hole, feeling you out, flicking the delicate nerves. But the sounds of his lapping at you like a dying man with a drink of fresh water is excruciating.

It echoes around the empty room and it’s so very loud. But it’s everything. And he’s beautiful. And he’s doing this to you purely for his own enjoyment. He loves to taste you. Loves to make you squirm on his face as you plead with him for mercy.

Everything is wet. So goddamn wet. Your pussy, his mouth, his face. He's not trying to remain poised. Not trying to keep clean. He wants all of it. Wants to share his saliva with your already soaked pussy and drink you down until there's nothing left. Let his tongue slip in, out, and through you until you can't breathe. Until he can't breathe.

His hand suddenly smacks your thigh. Once. Twice. Three times, and the sting makes you clench around the little bit of his tongue he’s taunting you with.

He grins. “Keep going, baby. Ride my tongue. Go.”

So, you do. Hands finding the floor beside his head as you roll your hips over his face. Over and over until you feel dizzy. Until his hold on your body is the only thing keeping you upright.

It’s sinfully sweet, but before you can really lose yourself in his lips, you hear the giant moving truck parking down below. Hear the men opening the large door as they begin unloading your furniture and carrying it inside.

However, Harry doesn’t seem to be stopping, and the idea that these men will hear you as they approach is mortifying. But just when you think it’s game over, he nips your clit with his teeth and pulls.

Dazed, you smack your palm over your mouth and cry out, the orgasm ripping through you. You feel weak, nearly wilting in his hold as he struggles to keep you up right. Smirking with endless amounts of satisfaction as your thighs squeeze his head.

The moment you’ve caught your breath, there’s a knock on the door, and Harry chuckles as he calls, “Just a minute.”

He gently pinches your leg and readjusts your shorts before he’s dragging you down for a kiss. Palm around the back of your neck as he slips his tongue in beside yours. Allowing you a taste and then some.

And you whimper through every second of it before he’s suddenly popping off your mouth with a gleeful hum and jumping onto his feet to answer the door.

Leaving you to sit on the apartment floor with your heart in your throat.

“Bee, shit…fuck, I can’t…I can’t—”

“You can. Know you can, baby. M’so close…just hold on a little longer for me, okay?”

Harry’s eyes roll back while his arms tug on the heavy rope keeping him tied to the headboard.

His expression is pained but blissfully fucked. Sweat collecting in his hairline as his swollen lips part for a desperate groan.

You figured this was the best way to break in the new bedding you’d purchased for the room. The beautiful king-sized mattress with a sturdy headboard.

And after seeing him flop down onto the freshly washed duvet, you knew what you wanted to christen next.

So, you’d grabbed the restraints and wrestled his wrists to the bars. Keeping him stuck as you begin yanking his pants down his legs.

He was intrigued, to say the least. And more than willing to put the control in your hands once you grabbed the cock ring.

But he had no idea what you really had in store.

“Bee,” he tries again, gasping the closer he gets to his orgasm. Watching as your tits bounce directly in his face. “Bee, please…please, lovie—”

“I know,” you coo, one hand scratching down his chest while the other squeezes your nipple between determined fingers. “Soon, I promise. Doing so fucking good—”

“Shit.” His head drops back as his hips buck up. Body wrecked with inescapable pleasure that he can’t seem to find.

You’ve kept him edged for almost an hour now. First by taking him into your mouth and sucking him right to the brink before leaving him there.

Then by fucking yourself with his cock, hard and with fervor only to pop off just when he was about to cum.

And finally, to really make sure he got the most of your torture, you’d slid on the vibrating cock ring, and began bouncing on him again.

He’s felt you cum around him twice already, and each time, it’s nearly killed him. Because it’s brought him that much closer before abandoning him there.

You have to admit, he’s doing incredibly well. Even when he had the chance to cum, he held back as best he could. Obeying your instructions as you got the most of his prolonged erection.

And he loves it. Loves when you use him as your own personal toy. Perhaps even more than you love it.

“Can’t…fuck, can’t hold it,” he pants, eyes pleading with you before he looks down at where your cunt is sliding down his incredibly hard cock. “Shit…shit, please. Bee, please. Do anything…anything, please—”

“Anything?” you hum, biting back a smile as you roll your hips forward just to hear him whimper.

He nods quickly. “Yes, anything. Fucking anything you want, swear…I swear…”

He sounds so depraved like this. A submissive tone of voice that breeds a certain yearning deep in your stomach.

You love this man. Love how beautiful he sounds when he’s begging. Love that you get to live with him and start a new chapter of your lives together.

You’ve never felt so lucky.

“Okay, baby,” you murmur, lifting yourself off as he whines quietly and glances down at the arousal you've left behind on his cock. “M’gonna take the ring off, okay? And I want you to tell me where you wanna cum—”

“In you,” he says before you can even finish the question. “Fucking please, Bee. Please let me cum in you. Please…be so good. Need…need to cum in you.”

You grin. “In me where, hm? You want my throat?”

His head shakes, lips pushed into a pout.

“No?” You slide the toy up the length of him, making him hiss through gritted teeth. “Do you wanna cum in my pussy, then, sweet boy?”

He makes another noise that nearly breaks your heart as you toss the ring to the other side of the bed and return to him. “Yes…shit, yes. Please…please—”

“So pretty when you’re polite, you know that?” you hum, reaching out to cup his cheek.

In turn, he nuzzles into your palm, seeming to settle gratefully. Looking at you like you paint the stars in the sky.

You take hold of him in your other hand and guide him back to your fluttering hole. “Okay, baby. Want you to cum for me, yeah? Give me all of it.”

He steels himself, attempting to straighten up despite the way he’s bound. Placing his feet flat on the mattress while your knees come down beside his hips.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach that inevitable end. Only a few thrusts up into you as you clench around him until he’s finishing. And you don’t even mind because he feels so good. Fucking love the way he spills inside of your cunt. The way it drips back out the minute you lift up. The way it looks, smearing across your thighs and the tip of his cock.

You both moan rather lewdly, surely horrifying your new neighbors, but you don’t mind. Because this is everything you’ve ever wanted.

Everything.

“Har? You awake?”

The perpetually sleepy man hums as he nuzzles his face further into your neck. One arm draped over your stomach while the other is tucked beneath your neck. “Yeah.”

You smirk. “Are you sure? You seem a little out of it. Do you wanna go to bed?”

His head shakes slowly as he takes another deep breath, lashes fluttering against your skin. “No, m’fine. Just comfortable.”

You reach out to brush your fingers through his curls, smiling when you hear him sigh contently. “We can finish the movie another time, H. Come on, let’s go to bed—”

His grip constricts around your hip as he keeps you planted to the sofa. “No,” he repeats, lips disappearing into your shoulder. “No, we spent all day getting the TV and speakers set up. Wanna sit here with you and enjoy it.”

“But you’re not enjoying it. You’re sleeping,” you insist playfully. “We can finish it tomorrow, really—”

“No,” he breathes. Unrelenting. “This couch is really comfy and if you move, I’ll cry.”

You grin a bit bigger. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

The next couple of minutes are quiet. His face is still nestled just beneath your jaw. Happy. But he’s not watching a single thing that’s happening on the screen and you have to bite back a laugh.

You love a lot of things about Harry, but one of them is his inability to admit when he’s tired. He’ll keep himself awake all night before he’ll acknowledge how sleepy he really is. In fact, he could be mid-yawn and still insist he’s fine.

However, just when you think he’s begun to drift off, you feel the hand on your hip smooth down your stomach. Stopping near the band of your sweatpants—almost innocently—before quickly dipping inside.

Warm fingers dance beneath the lace of your underwear until they can find your folds. A mindless action. Stroking softly and without devious intent. Almost as if touching you just to touch you.

You press your cheek into the top of his head. “Whatcha doin’?” you whisper.

“Nothing,” he hums. “S’just comfortable.”

“Touching me is comfortable?”

He nods once and continues gently moving his digits up and down. “I like playing with you. Makes me feel relaxed.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Like a stress ball but better.”

You lightly scratch your nails down his scalp. “You’re cute.”

“And you’re soft,” he murmurs, taking a deep, content breath. “Always so soft, Bee. And warm. Have no idea how good you feel.”

“I mean, I have some idea,” you tease. “It’s not like I haven’t touched myself before.”

“Funny.” His movements are lazy. There’s no alternative motive, he simply wants to feel you. “M’very happy.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as you glance down. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He rolls his head back to meet your eye. “Wanna warm my fingers in you…can I?”

There’s a racing in your chest that can’t be contained as you nod and spread your left leg a little further. Allowing him the room he needs while he pulls his hand out and sticks two fingers into his mouth.

He sucks on them slowly, coating them just so before dipping back in and smoothing the soaking digits down to your hole.

You exhale shakily at the feel of him stretching you slowly. The way your body draws him in, bends to his intentions. Clenches around him and keeps him warm.

He makes a satisfied noise of approval before nuzzling his face back into your neck, seemingly oblivious to the way you’re beginning to squirm.

But after a moment, the ache begins to dull. And you feel happy to merely lay with him like this, one of his legs tucked over yours, his fingers sitting deep in your cunt.

It’s serene, this moment. Perfectly blissful and endlessly safe.

Here in his arms.

“Harry…if you don’t stop—”

“What?” His grin is cheeky as he aims the showerhead down at the tile floor, allowing the water to dance down the drain. “M’just helping you get clean.”

“No, you’re being a menace,” you correct with a smirk. “I told you, no funny business—”

“I’m not being funny.” His finger taps along the cord, almost as if readying himself. “I mean, what’s the point of having a handheld showerhead if you don’t use it?”

You can’t argue that he has a point. After all, this was one of the features that drew you to the apartment in the first place, but you also know that he’s deliberately trying to tease you. “Harry, we came in here to shower because we have to leave in thirty minutes—”

“So—”

“So we don’t have time,” you remind him, handing him the loofa. “Okay, so clean yourself off, and we can try it out another time.”

However, he doesn’t accept the sponge, instead stepping even closer to you as the stream of water begins to rise. “That was before I saw how pretty you look…all soaped up and wet.”

You shoot him an amused yet playful frown. “Har…”

“What?” His eyes travel down your dripping torso and toward your cunt, the stream seeming to follow his line of focus. “I’m just helping you rinse off. S’what you wanted, right?”

The warm water feels amazing against your skin, but the pressure feels…

Your lashes flutter as you reach back to press your hands against the shower wall, needing something to brace yourself with as he continues stepping closer. “Harry…”

“What?” he says again, but it’s soft. Dangerous. Keeping the water on your inner thighs before moving up to your clit. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

But you couldn’t tell him even if you wanted to. Because the sensation of the pointed stream hitting you just right is turning your muscles to jello. Your vision is hazy, and your head is spinning, and your body is trembling—

“Har,” you whimper, undone by the look of adoration on his face as he loops an arm around your lower back. Holding you steady as he angles the water a bit lower. “Please…”

“Please what?” His voice is a soft purr. Sexy and silky and you feel powerless to resist him. “What do you want, Bee, hm? Tell Daddy what you want.”

Your head falls back against the tile, needing some stability. You’re too far gone, too lost in his eyes. In his need to unravel you. Legs shaking as the water does everything you need it to.

Slowly, he begins to lower himself into a crouch. Now eye level with your pussy as he readjusts his grip on the showerhead. Studying you with purpose as he works you closer.

“Come on,” he coos, glancing up through wet lashes. “Come on, lovie. Let me take care of you, yeah? Just wanna make you feel good—”

Your fingers reach for his freshly washed curls, tugging hard on the soaked strands as you whine. “Don’t stop.”

He smirks. “Never.”

With that, he lowers the water, and surges forward. Lips wrapping around your clit until you gasp out his name and thrust your hips toward his mouth.

He rotates between using his tongue and the showerhead. Pushing and pulling you toward that sweet release as all other thoughts and cares melt away.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, one hand reaching back to knead your ass in his palm. Practically tugging you down before landing a firm spank to the wet skin.

The sound echoes around the small room, the sharp contact making your pussy clench as you nearly lose your balance.

“That’s my girl.” He massages the flesh before smacking it again, and your eyes nearly roll out of your head. “Gonna cum for me, Bee?”

You nod quickly, chest heaving as you settle into the steam rising around you. “M’so close, Har…please…”

“I know,” he says, dipping down to nudge his nose against your clit. “Can see your pretty little hole fluttering for me. Just so…fucking…empty.”

Two wet fingers slip inside you, and it’s nearly impossible to remain steady with the way he beckons the orgasm out of you.

The pressure of the water against your clit, the fingers in your cunt, the goddamn smirk on his face. It’s everything and everywhere and you lose your grip on reality as you’re dragged through such euphoric harmony.

He rides you through for a couple minutes more before he’s standing back up and pressing his body into yours. Chest to chest, wet and flushed. His lips effortlessly capturing your own as you whimper against his tongue and throw your arms around his neck.

And maybe being late isn’t the worst thing.

Harry is beautiful.

In every way. And it’s not just his face or his body. But his heart. The way he speaks to you. Speaks to others. The way he carries himself, carries you. Protects you, loves you, fights for you.

The way he betters himself for you.

And now, you get to wake up to this man every day. In this beautiful new room with large windows and sunshine and promise. A moment of tranquility reserved just for you as you count the faint freckles across his nose. As you press your finger into the dimple on his cheek. As you study the rogue, messy curls that are matted to his forehead.

You could watch him sleep for hours. Would happily lay beside him until morning turned into afternoon.

But today? You have other plans.

It doesn’t take long for him to realize, eyes shooting open as you take him further down your throat.

He chokes on a strangled breath before glancing down, mouth dropping open with the sound of your name.

You pop off long enough to smile and whisper, “Morning, baby,” before you’re dragging your tongue along his tip.

His head falls back into the fluffy pillows, too heavy to stay upright. Streams of golden light dance through the curtains and hit the side of his face in the most magical way you’ve ever seen. Setting that beautifully structured profile aglow in the warm hue as he sighs gratefully.

Your hands curl around his thighs, squeezing gently as you scoot closer. Getting comfortable while you bob your head up and down the length of him.

His stomach is beautiful. Muscles quivering and skin soft. Littered with a few tattoos. The same tattoos you love to run your hands down. Your lips. Your pussy.

You could stare at him for a lifetime. And your heart feels like it’s going to burst inside your chest as you suck the man you love further into your mouth.

You love waking him up like this. Granted, it’s a rare occurrence, but each time, it’s ceaselessly enchanting.

And it’s another kink the two of you have found you adore. After giving each other consent to use the other’s body as a wake-up call, you found that there was something…safe about the experience. About knowing you trusted each other enough to allow them to decide for you.

It might not happen often, but you’re grateful for the times it does. Like now. When you get to see him look at you with lust and appreciation.

“Bee,” he whispers, reaching out to brush his hand along your head. Cupping it gently and without force. Letting you choose how much of him you want to take. “God, m’so lucky.”

You hum around him, and he groans. “Taste so good, Daddy. Just had to have a taste.”

His thumb brushes along your cheek, feeling the way it swells with his cock. “Can have anything you want, baby girl,” he sighs. “You know that. I’m all yours. Can take whatever you want, whenever you want it.”

You’d smile if you could, instead squeezing his thighs three times to tell him you love him.

“There you go,” he grunts when you lean back to spit on him. “Fucking just like that…shit. So fucking good, baby—”

Your hand works the base of him while your lips and tongue focus on the tip. Spreading the extra lubrication around until the room fills with the sound of your pumps.

His hips are bucking up, but you can tell he’s resisting the urge to drive himself into your mouth. He wants to be gentle for you. Wants you to have the control, but he’s losing the battle quickly.

So, you shoot him a soft grin, and murmur, “Fuck my throat, Daddy. Just wanna feel good for you.”

Which is all he needs to hear in order to weave his fingers through your hair and tug.

“Is that right, hm?” he whispers deviously. “Then be a good girl…and fucking take me.”

So…you do.

The paper towel roll goes flying to the floor, along with a bag of coffee grounds and the mail.

Harry has you bent over the kitchen island, cock deep in your cunt while his hand tugs on your hair.

“That’s a good girl,” he groans, forcing your cheek into the marble. “Fucking take me, Bee. Just like that.”

Your tits are pressed to the cold counter as you whimper something that resembles his name. Followed by a very lascivious moan when he angles his thrusts up.

He’s been insatiable all afternoon. Starting with eating you out at the breakfast table, just to edge you with seconds to spare.

Then, the firm smacks to your ass every time he walked by. Along with sneaking up behind you to scatter hickies along your exposed neck.

And now this.

You’d been unpacking some of the kitchen utensils and newly bought groceries when the idea hit him. Wild eyes watching you closely as you sat atop the island and rummaged through a box.

He’d slipped his way between your dangling legs and began to kiss you. Hand dancing down to your shorts to feel you out. Toying with you until you realized what he really wanted.

Not long after, he had you down on the ground. Your panties shoved around your ankles as he took you from behind.

And you figured unpacking could wait.

“Har,” you whisper now, attempting to meet his rhythm with gentle rolls of your own. “Please…”

“What, baby girl?” he coos, feet kicking your legs further apart. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

And it is. It has been ever since he started eating you out on the newly built table. Warm and deliciously skilled mouth on your cunt as the dishes and plates rattled beside you.

You’d cursed him to hell for stopping before you could finish but you’re more than grateful for his remedy now. Because while his lips and tongue are divine, his cock is what you really crave.

He pulls out and lands a firm spank to your dripping and sensitive cunt. The sensation and the sound nearly making your knees buckle until he has to slip an arm around your stomach and keep you still.

Then, he does it again. And once more for good measure before he’s driving himself back in.

“Fucking hell,” he murmurs behind you, his palm still pressed to your head to keep you down. “S’fucking pretty. This sweet little hole just takes me so well, you know that? Gets me all nice and wet. Lets me fuck it the way I want. Fucking begs for me, doesn’t it?”

You nod beneath his hold, nails scraping down the counter in bliss.

“So fucking pretty.” His other hand comes back to your thigh to squeeze it harshly before moving for your ass. Spreading you even further so he can see the way he disappears into you. “God, just like that. So cute when you’re desperate. Know you aren’t gonna last much longer, are you, lovie?”

“No,” you whimper, gasping when his cock brushes the perfect spot. “Shit, no. Can’t…can’t hold it.”

“Then you better fucking ask, hm?” he taunts, quickly yanking on your hair to force you up. “Ask me to cum. Beg me to let you cum on my cock—”

“Please,” you obey without pause. Desolate and deranged. “Please, H, please—”

“Do better,” he hisses, spanking your ass in retaliation. “Know you can do better than that, Bee. So come on, let’s hear it—”

“Daddy, please,” you correct, tears in your eyes as you try to hold back the pleasure threatening to escape. “Please, I’m so close…can’t hold it—”

“No,” he grunts, landing another smack to your skin. “Again.”

You choke on a moan and work to find the right words. Or any words at all. “Please, Daddy. Please let me cum on your cock. Need it so bad, can’t…can’t fucking stand it. Just need you, Daddy. Need you, please…”

You feel him twitch inside you before he’s growling through a clenched jaw and murmuring, “Good fucking girl…go. Right now, Bee. Fucking cum—”

And you do. Only seconds before he inevitably follows, and the overwhelming rush nearly breaks you. The way he spills inside you, the way he holds you upright, the way he presses his fingers to your clit in order to drag you even further.

He ignores your whimpers and cries for mercy, tugging your squirming frame back into his chest until you go quiet. Lips nuzzled to your cheek as he whispers, “There you go, you’re all right. Deep breath, baby. You’re okay, just want one more—”

“Daddy—”

“Shh. Just one more.” His voice is gentle although his touch is anything but. Pressing and rubbing against the overused nerves until you’re actively arching in his hold. “One more, baby girl, you can give me one more. Know you can. Doing so good—”

It doesn’t take long for the second one to find you, and you feel him smile against your jaw as you come down from his fingers.

“There you go,” he praises quietly before taking his hand away and crouching down. The tip of his tongue ghosting up your inner thigh as you sigh.

You feel him smirk.

“Now…let's do something about this mess.”

Next Part:

~ Break Me*

Previous Part:

~ Guide Me*

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream

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easyhomemovers-blog · 2 years ago

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cookie-crumblr · 9 months ago

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Chubby F! Housewife Reader X M!Yandere Streamer OC Jasper

Part 1?

next part!

(idk i might continue it?? should i? i know it’s more niche)

MINORS DNI

CW: Chubby F!reader, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, cheating themes, reader in a dress, pet names for reader(darling, ) not smutty yet! slow burn possibly

keep thinking about a chubby housewife reader to like a really shitty but rich man, and they move next door to Jasper………………. MMMMM

Anything in Red reader isn’t aware of

Your husband moved you both into a beautiful mansion in a gated community. It’s amazing, and everything you could ever need, he’s providing.

You fell in love with him a year and a half ago.

It’s not like he lied, but you wouldn’t have married him had you known what he was really like.

He drinks all day and complains all night, and when he fucks you, he finishes in a few seconds. And that’s when he does fuck you! He’s hardly ever even touching you let alone getting it in.

You are standing outside overseeing the movers as they take boxes and furniture into your brand new house. your skirt dances against your legs in the warm, gentle breeze.

Your husband swirls an amber liquid in a short crystal glass, watching you from the doorway. When you wave excitedly, he skulks back into the mansion.

Your heartstrings tug painfully.

He’s taken you far away from all of your loved ones, somewhere where you’re all alone and afraid… And he can’t even be there for you at least little bit? Before a stinging tear fully can form-

“Evenin’” You hear a lazy male voice from nearby, and spin toward your hedges. There’s a wrought gate between yours, and your neighbors’ yard directly… The old neighbors must’ve been their friend. A young looking guy stands on the other side of it, waving kindly to you. His posture is easy, one hand in his jean pocket, the other up in the air, his head tipped back exposing his pale neck. Long black hair frames his face, loaded with piercings. He looks out of place, but perfectly at home standing out.

You approach, figuring that your husband can lead the movers just fine on his own. You don’t notice your slight pout, but Jasper finds it adorable, he bites his lip, eyeing you up.

“Sorry I didn’t bake ya a pie, didn’t know the place would be sold so soon.” He laughs and lazily scratches the back of his head, his shirt pulls up revealing his hip bone.

“Why? ‘s it haunted? OooOo” You wave your fingers to mock something spooky.

He laughs at your cute demeanor, “Eh maybe, last owner did die,” he shrugs.

“Oh my, I’m sorry, I didn’t know….” You idly run your fingers over the cold, slightly bumpy textured gate.

“Nothing to be sorry for, didn’t know them” He shrugs.

“Oh phew! I thought— Anyway!” You shake your hands and head to reset the convo, “What’s up? why’d you call me over here?” You tilt your head and fold your hands in front of you.

“I was just greeting my pretty new neighbor, that’s all,” He grins.

“Oh stop! I’m married!” You shyly laugh and turn your head so that he can’t see you’re flustered.

“happily?” His grin grows as does his suspicion.

“Oh!” You think of an excuse to quickly leave, “I think the movers are calling me!” You rush off back to at least pretend to delegate again.

His brow raises curiously as he smiles after you, watching your curves sway as you walk away.

The stranger watches you for a few minutes longer, and you feel his eyes on you, but you don’t dare turn around and encourage him.

You are a good wife. Regardless of who you ended up marrying. You stomp, steadfast in your decision.

He chuckles before walking back to his home.

Inside you finish setting the table with the house workers, and arranging the flowers on all the marble pedestals around the dining room. Your husband is having some business partners over for dinner.

As the door rings you rush to answer the door, and an employee beats you to it, taking their coat and everything.

You aren’t really sure what you should be doing… And your chest tightens with nerves.

“What are you doing out here? You should be with me.” Edward grabs your elbow and drags you along. He’s being rather rough but you can’t help feel a little grateful to be lead. It doesn’t stop your eyes burning in embarrassment.

He sets you down in the seat next to his at the head, and your heart flutters with pride, emotional whiplash aside.

A few men enter the dining room one after the other, and then dinner is served. you’re dissociating for most of it, just nodding along to their dull conversation, until your husband’s hand clasps around your thigh. “Huh?”

“You’re excused now, darling,” he has a cold look in his eye that startles you.

“What?” What he said hurt your feelings, he doesn’t want you around now? did you do something wrong?

“Leave, let us grown ups talk now” He laughs with his business friends joining in.

You feel that far too familiar sting in your eyes, how could he!? that’s so embarrassing! You’re his wife.

Doing your best, you stand without making a scene and give them all your most polite and proper departing smile.

It’s cold on the patio. Your evening dress doesn’t cover very much and where it does, the fabric is cool. You’re quick to shiver, but you remain.

There’s a security camera above you and you feel watched, so you decide to go for a walk around the block instead of staying stationary. Maybe that will warm you up a little too.

You creep out the front gate, feeling like you’re a teen again, sneaking out when you aren’t supposed to… But this is your home! you aren’t disallowed from taking a walk!

“Hah!” You laugh to yourself, how silly of a feeling you just had.

As you round a corner adorned by an iron lamp post with glowing twin lanterns, you start dwelling more and more on your predicament. You already felt lonesome before, where Edward had made you feel special, and told you you’d never be alone again. Yet here you are, walking down the dim street, alone.

An engine coming towards you snaps you out of your thoughts, you turn to see a large van slowing down as it approaches you. Your heart thumps and your mind races before the driver side window rolls down revealing your neighbor’s laid back, and smirking face.

You let out a shaky sigh, “oh goodness you scared me for a second!” followed by a nervous laugh.

“You alright? Want a ride?” He asks.

“Oh no, don’t worry about me! I was just taking a stroll,” You let your words hang, wanting to accept but being a little too frightened or nervous to outright accept.

“C’mon, we can have some coffee or tea at my place, ‘sides, i’d feel terrible if i just left ya out here at this time, sure it’s gated but a tasty lookin’ treat like you’d get snatched up in a heartbeat.”

Your face feels hot but you nod and mangange to get out an “mhm!”

He watches you round the front of his van, and reaches his body over the center console to open the passenger door for you.

He offers his hand to help you up, when you take it, it’s cold! “What have you been up to? You feel like death! here!” You bring his hand up to your face and blow warm air over his knuckles.

Crimson fills his cheeks for the moment and is swift to clear back out before you can really admire it.

You pull back away a little embarrassed yourself, you aren’t sure why you did that to a stranger! “Oh! I don’t even know your name! I’m Y/N!” You stick your hand back out in offer to shake his.

He takes it, “Jasper,” a small smile tugs at his lips.

The drive isn’t long, but you realize how far from home you actually were, and wonder what he had been doing to find you.

You step out onto his driveway and anxiously look through the gate connecting your yards. It feels as though this is something you really shouldn’t be doing… But this Jasper guy could be a friend, and then you won’t be so lonely anymore!

Your home is still lit up inside, so you’re assuming they’re still talking in there.

Jasper’s space on the inside is dimly lit, but brightly coloured retro fantasy, all soft shapes with rounded sides. Mostly pinks and purples. Very vaporwave. The kitchen tiles, though the typical black and white checker board, warp and look like waves on the floor. Plants cover most all the surfaces.

He makes you your preferred tea, or coffee, he doesn’t make himself a cup of either. Instead he grabs a pale blue, and silver can from the fridge.

“Oh i see how it is,” You say with sarcasm.

“I figured you’d need to warm up,” A smile crosses his lips that has your body feeling hot.

You sip your drink nonchalantly.

“So what were you doing out there by yourself?”

“My husband— Nevermind, sorry. I shouldn’t talk bad about my husband behind his back…”

“Well I know something we could do if you don’t wanna go back yet…” his brow raises in a challenge.

#my oc #yandere #oc x reader #oc x you #yandere x reader #yandere x you #my fic #streamer oc x reader #x reader #x oc #x you #male yandere #chubby reader #fem reader #f!reader #streamer x you #streamer x reader #streamer yandere #streamer yandere x you

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natashaslesbian · 7 months ago

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Another Mother (Pt 2)

Summary: it’s your first morning in Scarlett’s house and after an argument with your dad you find yourself leaning on Scarlett

Word Count: 2.1k

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You flopped down dramatically onto your mattress, hitting it slightly harder as it was only laying against the floor. “Thanks Dave” you said as you rolled onto your back “no problem darl” he smiled. Dave was one of the movers helping you and your dad move into his girlfriend’s place, he had single handily got all your furniture up to your new bedroom on the second floor. In just a few hours you had got to know Dave well, it was nice to talk to someone who didn’t see you as the girl whose mom had died. Dave picked up the last of cardboard boxes on the floor “welcome home darl” he said. You smiled politely but couldn’t quite thank him, because this wasn’t your home. It was Scarlett’s home. Yes, Scarlett Johansson. “Bye Dave” you waved as the mover gently closed your door. You sat up slowly on your mattress, looking around at all the furniture you would have to re build tomorrow. In reality, the size of the room made it look like a lot less work, you were worried about how you would fill all this empty space. You heard laughter from downstairs, reminding you of the two love birds down on the first floor. Colin, your dad had managed to fill his empty space, but you weren’t quite so open. You didn’t want a new mom, you wanted your mom.

It was late by the time everyone was someone settled and Scarlett decided to treat the three of you to takeout, as if it was a dent in her purse spending $30. You decided to eat in your room, wanting to be alone for a while. Your dad had tried to convince you to sit with them but you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop the gag in the bag of your throat seeing them so lovey dovey. “Ok Kid, we’ll come say goodnight in a bit” Colin said as you trudged back up the stairs. “She hates me” Scarlett sighed, looking down at her engagement ring. “She doesn’t hate you, she just doesn’t know you that well yet” Colin said as he wrapped an arm around his partner. “It’s not been easy since her mom, she’s not as adaptable as me. It’ll take time but one day you and her will be the best of friends” he said. “Do you think so?” Scarlett asked “I know so. She’ll never admit it but when she was little I tried to get her into superhero’s. Black widow was her favourite before she watched Harry Potter and decided that that would be her entire personality” Colin smiled, Scarlett smiled as the little story. “I know deep down she’s excited to get to know you, she’s just scared. She thinks I’m replacing her mom, I just wish I could tell her that would never happen. But I have moved forward, and I’m happy. I’m so happy with you” Colin said as he lent forward to kiss Scarlett’s forehead. “Let’s eat, then we can say goodnight to y/n and snuggle up in OUR bedroom” Scarlett said with a wide smile.

Waking up in a new unfinished bedroom felt strange, what felt even more strange was the sound. At your old house, you would wake up to the birds singing, no matter the time. Living next to a large field had its perks and you loved the fresh air that came rushing into your bedroom every morning. You felt stiff having slept on a thin mattress against the bare floor, stretching out your sore muscles felt so good. You checked your phone briefly, seeing it was still very early. Your stomach growled as you looked over at the untouched takeout from last night, food had been the last thing on your mind sitting in your new room. You figured it would be a bad idea to eat next day cold chicken, so you ventured down to the kitchen in search of breakfast. It had only just gone 6am so you were surprised to hear cluttering coming from the kitchen. Shuffling in slowly, you saw Scarlett at the stove, pouring what looked to be pancake mix into the pan. Your heavy footsteps alerted the blonde to your presence “morning y/n” she said as she turned around to give you a warm smile, making you cringe internally. “Morning” you said as you crossed the room.

Scarlett continued her actions until she noticed your confused glance “thought I’d whip up a little something for breakfast, I’m a bit of an early riser so was gonna surprise your dad with breakfast in bed” she said as she flipped a pancake. The sweet tone of her voice infuriated you and without thinking you spoke your true thoughts “my mom used to do that for dad, she made her pancakes from scratch though” you coldly said, not missing the slight frown in Scarlett’s features. “Well I’m not the best at cooking” she said as she painted a smile back on her face “I did get a vegan mix tho, your dad told me you don’t eat dairy” she finished. “You’re making me pancakes?” You questioned, feeling slightly guilty at your earlier outburst. “Oh if you want something else feel free to help yourself. I have oat milk for cereal and there’s some eggs if you’d like those” Scarlett said, delicately moving the hot pancake from the pan to the plate. “I could make you some bacon if you’d prefer or perhaps some sausages?” Scarlett continued as she listed off the long list of breakfast items she had. “Can you just stop!” You yelled out suddenly, Scarlett froze at your outburst. “You don’t have to do…all this! I can take care of myself ok. I know you weren’t expecting some random teenager to be dumped with you when you got involved with my dad but I wasn’t exactly expecting a new mom. And just so we’re clear, I’m not looking for one either!” You yelled as you stormed out of the kitchen and stomped back up the stairs.

The noise from downstairs had woken Colin up and you brushed past him on your way back to your bedroom. “Y/n?” He said as you stormed past him with tears coating your cheeks. Your dad decided not to press you straight away, he’d learned early on after your mom passed that it was important for you to let out your emotions. Colin headed downstairs to see if his fiancé might be more open to talking. Walking in slowly, he saw a saddened looking Scarlett standing by the stove “honey?” He said softly. “You’re supposed to be in bed” she said as she turned to Colin “I was making pancakes for you” she said sadly. “What happened?” Colin asked as he made his way over to Scarlett. “Does y/n think I’m gonna replace her mom?” She spoke quietly. “Is that what she said?” Colin asked “well sort of” Scarlett said with a large frown. Colin ushered his fiancé over to the kitchen island where they sat together hand in hand. “She just said that she’s not looking for a new mom. She got upset when I was giving her some ideas for breakfast” Scarlett said. “Oh my god she’s so dramatic” your dad sighed “I’ll have a word and get to her apologise, she’s not gonna get away with being so rude” Colin said angrily as he rose from his seat. “I don’t think she meant it like that” Scarlett called, pausing Colin’s movements “she just got…overwhelmed. Maybe I came on too strong, I just wanted her to feel welcomed” the blonde frowned.

Back in your room, you sat in silence letting the guilt consume you. It was only when you heard the thumping footsteps outside your door did you finally return to reality. “What the hell is the matter with you!” Colin shouted as he threw open your bedroom door “I told you that you would be respectful to Scarlett and then you go and talk to her like that!” He yelled. “I’m sorry” you whispered under your breath “I’m not finished!” your dad screamed as he interrupted you “I am running out of options with you y/n, this behaviour has to stop! You are not the only one who lost your mom and it would be nice if you could just appreciate that I am happy. You may not like it but I am with Scarlett now and you are just gonna have to get used to it because this is reality now! I’m getting sick of you.” Colin said as you just sat and took your medicine. He didn’t even give you a chance to explain or apologise before he was out the door, bumping into Scarlett on the way. “You’re supposed to be taking a shower” she said with a disappointed glance. “I’m now going” Colin said in a huff as he brushed her off. “If that’s how you talk to her it’s no wonder she gets riled up so quickly” Scarlett said softly “what would you know? You’re not a mother are you” Colin said as he slammed the bathroom door closed.

Your door was gently pushed open and you glanced up cautiously to see Scarlett carrying through a tray of food. “Brought you some pancakes” she said brightly, slowly depositing the tray atop your desk. You could see the glimmer of sadness behind Scarlett’s eyes “I heard what my dad said to you, I’m sorry” you said. “It’s not your fault y/n” Scarlett said as she sceptically came to sit with you. “If I hadn’t made him angry he wouldn’t of said it, so I’m sorry” you sheepishly said “and I’m sorry for what I said too” the blonde placed her hand on your shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting touch “does he usually speak to you like that when he’s mad?” She asked. “You heard?” You said in an embarrassed tone “could hear him from downstairs” Scarlett replied. “He expects a lot from me, especially since mom died” you frowned. Scarlett had never seen such an angry side to Colin, she found herself feeling somewhat protective over you, despite her unconditional love for your dad. “He shouldn’t have yelled at you like that” the older woman said “he’s just going through a lot” you said, trying to find excuses for your dads behaviour. “So are you” Scarlett said as she rested her arm around your shoulders. You felt tears well up in your eyes and couldn’t resist but to lean into Scarlett’s embrace. You didn’t expect it to be so warm and so comfortable, something that felt almost like home. You forgot for a second that you weren’t basking in the comfort of your mom and sat up quickly to wipe your eyes. “Sorry, you shouldn’t have to deal with me being all hormonal and teenagery” you said while rubbing at your nose with your sleeve “thank you for breakfast” you said ending the conversation. Scarlett smiled as she stood up and left your room.

It was lunchtime when you next dared to venture out of your room, once again in search of food. Silence followed you throughout the large house as you journeyed towards the kitchen. You helped yourself to an apple from the spotless fruit basket on the corner counter. “Hey kiddo” your dad said from behind, startling you slightly. “Hi” you said questioningly over your shoulder, you watched as Colin took a seat at the island counter and assumed he wanted you to do the same. “Y/n I’m sorry about this morning, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that” Colin said “it’s no excuse but I guess the move has been harder on me than I thought it would. I know you miss your mom sweetie and so do I but I just want you to get along with her” he finished with a face full of regret. “It’s okay, I forgive you” you said quietly before taking the first bite of your apple. “Scarlett said you got a bit upset, it was her who made me realise I was wrong, she was really mad at the way I spoke to you” Colin said with an uncomfortable laugh. “Oh mother of the year everybody” you said sarcastically, making your dad raise his eyebrows at you in a warning way “sorry” you huffed. Assuming the conversation was over you made a break for your bedroom “fancy a movie night later?” Your dad said pausing your movements “the 3 of us, your pick first?” He said as he walked up next to you “I think Scarlett might like another little hug” he said with a cheeky grin. you watched as he went into the living room, slightly annoyed that he knew about your slip up. Deep down, you knew the hug felt nice, but you remained decided - Scarlett isn’t your mom, she never will be.

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Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904 / @strange-night-owl / @kkreader78o / @hatergirl-69 / @asv-xx

#scarlett johansson #colin jost #scarlett x reader #colin x reader #scarjo

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saintslewis · 1 year ago

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❝ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc

summary: truly, nothing can break Nadia’s soul.

warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, slight angst, typos, it’s a long one 😭 click on the links, i’m watching you 🤨

wc: 6.4k

saint’s team radio 🎀: don’t beat me up y’all! this took more than forever and i am really sorry. hopefully this chapter brings you guys joy 🤭 thank you so much for all the love on renaissance so far! 🥹 i also want y’all to know that Nadia is a thick babe, when she wears shorts or mini skirts/dresses, it’s mini!!! just wanted to remind y’all!!!!

pls like, comment and reblog! 🫶🏽

renaissance: the series masterlist • general masterlist

The thin white thread from the duvet cover couldn't be any longer as Nadia continued to pull on it, clicking her nails together in the process. Her buzzing phone sat on the bed in front of her with the voice of her mother pressing her about the past week.

"I'm sure it wasn't easy being the trophy wife this weekend, people were going crazy this side." Her mother chuckled from the other end.

"Ma, you haven't spoken to me since I signed on that dotted line, you haven't checked up on me yet this is what you have to say to me after nearly 3 weeks without contact?" Nadia said with a strain in her voice.

"Oh come on. I was just giving you time to adjust to that fame you've always wanted and for the love of all that is good, cover up more. Do not need to see more than what I've already seen." Thembi said, not understanding how much she was hurting her daughter.

Quietly wiping her tears with her wrist, she thought back to how much peace she had before she called her mother.

The journey from South Africa to the uk had been a tough one when Nadia was much younger. Although the mother daughter pair had gone through hardships, they were as close as they could be. Residing in South London at the time had been a rollercoaster, from trying to fit in with the other kids to adapting to the new culture around her, it became easier thanks to friends she made along the way.

Within a year and a half of moving countries, Thembi announced to her daughter that they would be moving in with a new man, her 'friend' for the time being all the way in Stevenage. Nadia saw her mother's entire personality change the second the last box was dropped off by the movers, a new demeanour being shown off to the neighbours and a less kind version of her was shown to Nadia.

Conversations were barely there, hugs were rarely given and reassurance was never enough as opposed to the affection she would previously receive from before the move. Wanting to keep the positives on the surface, Nadia decided to distract herself from her feelings and continued to go to school with her old friends even if it meant travelling distances just to get away from her mother.

As Nadia grew older, so did the sudden change of attitude from her mother, finding the need to comment on everything she found wrong with Nadia. In rebellion, the girl would wear whatever would make her happy, get the tattoos she felt she needed and not spending as much time with her mother as she did before. When university opened, she hurried to move out, already planning her life out and visited her home country to find comfort in her family back home, her cousin Rea becoming a younger sister to her.

However after uni, Thembi seeked therapy to better her relationship with her daughter. Happy to go back to the way it was before, their relationship became healthier and happier after years. What changed?

Sighing out, Nadia ignored her mother's harsh words. "When is Rea going to get there? You've cancelled her flight three times already."

"Only next week Thursday. Ooh tell me, has he bought you anything fancy yet?" Anyone could imagine the smug look on her mother's face as she asked the question.

"Bye mom. Greet James." Rolling her eyes, Nadia hung up and gently rubbed her eyes, getting rid of the tears with her knuckles. Texting Rea that she should rather move in with her, she let out a sigh at the thought of her mother's sudden phone call the day after the race.

Walking into the en-suite bathroom, she fixed up her light makeup with music playing from her phone. Lewis had texted her earlier that he would be going on a run, not too sure what Nadia would want to do during the day before their trip to Malibu. She blinked the tears back whilst tilting her head backward to avoid them falling once again.

The cold tiles of the bathroom were cooling off the high temperature of her body, mainly from all the emotions and the overall heat in Miami. All she wanted to do was leave Miami and curl up in her bed - her old bed. The one she would lay on after an incredibly long day of teaching high schoolers. The one that had her plushies that she was gifted by her students. The one where she could be lying in at that very moment but she decided to drive to her mom's house that fateful day.

Deactivating her social media accounts was a no go as instructed by Tia, saying the engagement was good and for her to keep it up, the public unfamiliar with the concept of a WAG speaking to people as if they've been friends for decades. Having not gone too far into the mean and hateful comments, Nadia gets chills just thinking about it. How she's perceived by the world now with her newfound fame. One she did not ask for but she was willing to help her new friend.

That's all he was. A friend. Right?

Not realising she had zoned out and begun picking on her old acne scars, she hadn't heard her hotel room door open, a slightly breathless Lewis stood in the bathroom doorframe watching her pick at her skin whilst looking at a specific tile.

"Nads?" He called out but the girl still hadn't heard anything. Wiggling his neon sneakers on his feet within her vision, she snapped out of it, her eyes widening at the sight of him there. "Oh, hi." She greeted, voice as soft as silk as she looked at the man once then back to the mirror to avoid eye contact. "Everything okay?" He asked, wiping his forehead for any sweat left.

Nadia nodded, packing up her mini makeup bag from the marble counter, jewellery jangling as she zipped it up. "Just woke up a little weird and hungry, that's all. Are you good?" She responded, giving a half smile and she finally maintained eye contact with him.

"Yeah. Yeah, the run was good and ready for the day." He answered, feeling her energy yet just not sure where to put it between sadness or anger. "Still very proud of P2 yesterday, it was insane to see that live." She added, the gold grills matching her jewellery perfectly. Very casually dressed with a tired look in her eyes.

"Nads, are you sure you're good? Have you had breakfast?" He moved to the side as he watched her leave the bathroom with heavy footsteps. "The heat is killing me, not used to such and I was going to wait til the plane for something. Got too nervous to order room service." She slightly chuckled to herself, feeling a slight twist in her stomach.

Not wanting to upset her, he just gave her a look with his eyebrows a little raised and that made her crack. "Oh my days, don't look at me like that. We can go for lunch or something, I don't know." She suggested, looking away from Lewis to avoid looking into his eyes.

"What if I was going to compliment your hair?" He joked and crossed his arms with a slight chuckle.

"Please, I know that look from anywhere. I give it to my kids all the time." Nadia said while rolling her eyes, a soft smile on display. "Now let me change. The room's got stuffy air so we need to take a step outside." She shooed him away as she walked into the bathroom once again and closed the door with a huge smile.

Left standing in awe of her, Lewis shook his head as he headed out of her hotel room to change up for their outing.

The cold granadilla slushy had been freezing up Nadia's hand but she couldn't care less, the heat in Miami unbearable to no end. The pair sat in the back of the Escalade on the way to any mall nearby where Nadia could get some sandals, her feet suffocated by her sneakers.

Tia had advised them to travel by their allocated security cars because the streets of Miami were still buzzing with F1 fans, hungover or sober, hunting around for any f1 drivers that were around.

"Not that it isn't weird, it is, but I have to live with the fact that the women I have dreamed of styling one day know I exist and Pharrell too! Like my colleagues are blowing up my phone like crazy." Nadia emphasised, the slushy swishing around in her hand as she was talking.

Lewis could watch her talk for hours, even more when she was excited about something. He had thought that this weekend would be too much for Nadia with all the attention on her much more than the Grand Prix itself but the way she handled everything from the instagram posts to the multitude of introductions was incredible to watch.

She was graceful but with a spunk to her, expressing her personality to the friend group but not yet to the f1 media, wanting to get a bit more comfortable in that vicinity with Lewis by her side. Already seeing how she could get when someone were to wrong Lewis, the man was certain that they will get through this fake marriage with ease and fun, gaining a friendship within it.

"So what's your biggest goal with being a stylist? I haven't seen your work yet but I feel like it's phenomenal." He asked, smiling once he saw her roll her eyes at him.

"Phenomenal is a stretch but I'm trying to get like Law Roach or even work with a fashion house to be honest. I always wanted a way to show my work but I just never knew how to." She shrugged, taking a sip of the slushy.

"How about you style me for a few events and for a race or two?" He suggested.

"And take Eric's job? Are you crazy?" She stared at him with widened eyes and furrowed eyebrows but all he did was chuckle. "It'll be fun plus Eric knows already, he's more than excited for it." Lewis continued smiling, Nadia stared at him before releasing a sigh.

"When do I start?" She shook her head in disbelief, not believing what just happened. "Friday but the main brief is that we're sitting courtside." And like clockwork, he gave her a smile that she couldn't resist.

"You're just so full of surprises, aren't you? Let me find out there's more events you're hiding from me." Nadia said squinting her eyes at him, his cheeks eventually hurting from smiling at her.

"A magician never tells his tricks."

"Yeah yeah, Hamilton." Nadia replied, shaking her head once more as she got her purse ready, seeing the Miami Fashion District come into her view.

Pulling the bottom of her dress down constantly, she looked around at all the luxury stores that were never ending.

This wasn't the norm for her, she was hoping to see a much cheaper alternative than what was in front of her but she had to remember who she was in that very moment. She felt safe with two security detail walking stealthily behind them, her hands staying at the hem of her sundress.

"Your dress is okay, don't have to worry." Lewis leaned a little closer to her shoulder to whisper, sending back a reassuring smile. All she responded with was to hold his ring-clad hand in sign of appreciation.

Reaching Gucci, Nadia's first thought were those platform sandals she had seen on social media and in that exact moment, her mind went to the comfort she had been wanting since she hadn't packed any open shoes. Pulling him towards the store, everything in that store went quiet.

Sale associates just stopped and stared whilst costumers began whispering and muttering to themselves. Immediately spotting the sandals from afar, they walked slowly towards the shoe section of Gucci, trying to ignore all the eyes on them. From her peripheral vision, she could see someone speed walking towards them, fixing her uniform and her appearance once she reached the couple.

"Hello, welcome to Gucci. I'm Roni and I'll be your sales associate today." The woman introduced herself, looking straight at Lewis as she did.

"Nice to meet you, Roni. I'm Nadia and really we just came for a quick visit, hopefully get a few things whilst we're here." Nadia had on a bright smile as she spoke, the worker's smile fading as she looked at Nadia.

"Of course," Roni said, licking her teeth. "Where would you like to start? Perhaps dresses. It is a hot day in Miami." Looking at Nadia up and down with the slightest hint of disgust shown on her face, the woman continued to smile in her face.

Taken aback by the tone of her voice, Nadia just smiled and averted her gaze back to the shoe section. "It truly is but I have to pass. I'm much more interested in the shoes right now." She said, still holding onto Lewis' arm, who was enjoying every moment of this. "Alright, let me go get some champagne for you guys, racing must be tough in this heat." Roni smiled, turning around to walk in a different direction.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Nadia sighed out as they sat on the large velvet green couch. "Is this the crap i have to deal with? Her eyes said it all." She complained, rolling her eyes and placing her purse down. Following suit, he sat next to her and did not keep a friendly distance between them, relaxing his arm behind her.

"Don't worry about her or anyone else for that matter. People will purposefully piss you off for their enjoyment so let's just have a good time and we'll get ice cream later." He advised, not bothering to look around the shop but had focused all his attention on Nadia.

"Stand on your promise, Hamilton. I don't play about my ice cream." She joked, both chuckling after a beat of silence. Eyeing the store, she saw a few pieces that she knew would look good on Lewis and a few on herself. This one particular top was screaming her name, the Gucci monogram sticking out but it had a level of class to it, already imagining outfits with it on.

"The top is quite nice, I don't know what you could match it with to make it work but it seems cool." Lewis said, staring at the same top, unaware that their heads were tilted the same way. "You think so?" Nadia pondered. "Well you can't not be stylish around me so." He shrugged jokingly, earning another laugh from her. "Okay whatever you say, pookie bear." She patted his knee, watching a completely different sales associate head their way with a tray of champagne.

"Hi, I'm Tracey, my colleague Roni just decided to not help a couple because she didn't like the wife. Crazy I think she's talking about the Hamiltons because they came in here the same time." The new associate rambled off, placing the tray onto the small table next to them.

Finally looking up, Tracey's breath hitched. "Oh shit, that's you guys. Oh god, I'm sorry for my words." The younger girl apologised, eyes widened at the couple who just smiled at her.

"It's okay, lovely to meet you Tracey." Nadia smiled, amused at her actions. "What can I do for you today?" Tracey asked.

After a rather pleasant sales interaction with Tracey voicing how much she loved the both of them as a couple and as individuals, there they stood at the counter waiting for their items to be fully scanned. Lewis was very content with the pieces that Nadia had picked out for him, confident that every single one was going to look tailor made. When it came down to payment, Lewis had no problem in swiping his card as Nadia dug through her purse to find hers.

"Thank you for spending your time with us here at Gucci, Mr and Mrs Hamilton." The lady at the till said, handing the the large green bags that felt so good in Nadia's hands.

"It was really fun and tell Roni we said goodbye." Nadia smiled wickedly as she waved and walked out of the store with Lewis laughing at her words right behind her. "Damn that felt good. Gotta keep it cute and classy until it's not." She smiles as they walk to a different shop.

LOS ANGELES

"I swear, the powder I used for my under eyes is just super cakey." Natalia complained as she walked down the plane stairs onto the asphalt, Nadia following close behind with her carry on bag on her shoulder.

The Californianian air was different from that of Miami, less humid but a little hotter. It was late in the afternoon when the group landed, greeted by a beautiful sunset behind the Los Angeles skyline. After the impromptu shopping session, the plane was already for takeoff so everyone had hurried to be in the air by lunchtime.

Taking the time to catch up with everyone, the group shared laughs and their stories from Miami although it was less than a week that they had spent in the eccentric city. There was a gnawing feeling in the pit of Nadia's stomach, unable to get the guilt of spending Lewis' money as if it was hers. Although he reassured her multiple times that he was more than okay getting her whatever she wanted, she still felt uneasy about it all.

The all too familiar Escalades were parked on the ground, Lewis waiting patiently for Nadia to get down so that they could go to their destination. Seeing her confused face as Natalia, Miles and Daniel waved goodbye to them as everyone went to their respective cars, Lewis then spoke up. "Everyone's going their places, we're going to our house."

Snapping her head to look at him in bewilderment, she almost stopped in her tracks just to recall what he had said. "Another one?!" She whisper yelled, not wanting anyone near them to hear. He nodded with a closed smile as they reached their car with all their luggage inside, all similar to when they landed in Miami.

The morning came quite quick as the rest of the day ended with Nadia yet again exploring a new home, almost screaming when she saw the garage full of cars she only wished she could drive and you can imagine the shock when Lewis told her that in hindsight, they're her cars. In his words, "I don't really like to drive as much so you can use them as freely as you want."

Climbing out of the huge bed of the even larger guest bedroom, Nadia was careful to not wipe her eyes too much because of her extensions. Stretching every limb on her body, she walked towards the bathroom to splash water on her face to fully wake her up. The birds were still chirping from beyond the closed curtains and the sun was shining through the slivers of the curtain, creating a peaceful aura throughout the room.

Her bonnet luckily stayed on through the night, grabbing her glasses from the night stand along with her phone, she walked out of the room with her fluffy slippers on her feet. The trip downstairs was quiet and the aroma of something sweet wafted through the air, making her wonder where Lewis was.

Reaching the last step, she saw something move in the corner of her eye. Rather small, the thing moved towards her with its feet patting against the floor. Looking in its direction, the first thing she saw was the droopy mouth belonging to the short dog and her heart almost stopped, the fear running through her body as she continued to stare at the dog.

"Oh my god, please don't come close." She whispered out loud, hoping the dog would listen. Nadia was frozen in her place and she was too afraid to look anywhere else in case the dog moved towards her. "I see you've met Roscoe. Hope he's been kind." Lewis' voice spoke from behind her, crouching down to pet the dog lovingly. The silence from Nadia was odd, he turned his head to see her frightened state as she didn't move her gaze from Roscoe.

"Nads? Nads? Okay, let's get Roscoe out of here." He called out then whispered to himself, carrying the dog out of the living room then hurrying back to Nadia.

"Well that was my dog, Roscoe. I'm sorry he scared you." With a worried expression on his face, Lewis placed his hands on her arms to snap her out of her frozen state. Finally making eye contact with him through her glass lenses, she spoke up. "I-it's okay. Just have to get used to seeing him." She nodded, wanting to end the awkwardness right there.

"Anyway, good morning. Did you eat yet?" She said, slightly smiling and making her way towards the marble kitchen island, the two plates on top of it were filled with stacks of waffles with a side of fruit next to it. "Uh no, waited for you to wake up so I just took a run in the meantime." He mentioned, following behind her and took his seat across from her.

In that very moment, her heart fluttered at his words. It was so simple yet so sweet of a gesture to do for her. "Thank you for that, Lew. Let's eat up then." She replied, a shy smile on her face as she felt his eyes on her. The two dug in to their breakfast that Lewis had made for them earlier in the morning, wanting the logistics of their relationship.

"So, I need to know how you feel about pda and how much you're willing to show to the public. We have to make this look real." Nadia said, biting down on a slice of apple. "I don't have an issue with it, just as you're comfortable with it." He responded. Just nodding along, she continued to eat the fruit.

"This is just so weird to me. Three weeks ago I would've been in my apartment trying to think how i'm gonna get groceries for the month and now i'm in Los fucking Angeles eating fruit with 5 cars sitting in the garage. It's crazy." She blurted out, everything now properly dawning on her as they sat down in peace.

"Life works in mysterious ways for sure, never thought I would be sitting in my kitchen with my wife on a Wednesday morning." He said, the smallest of chuckles escaping him. "You are very good with your words, sir. A lil too good." She joked, pointing the fork at him.

"What's the plan today? I don't think I can handle anything hectic." She asked, her accent changing when she said 'hectic' . Giving her a cocked eyebrow at the sudden change of accent, Nadia looked smug.

"A little history on me. I moved to the uk at 8 years old and this south african accent stuck with me for a while until I reached high school. By then my mother decided to send me back home with my aunt and cousin to complete high school that side then year 12, I went back for university. The slang and accent never left me along with the 6 languages I know." She explained, almost bursting into laughter after seeing his face morph from curiosity to shock.

"Six?!" He vocalised. "And counting, my kids don't call me Superwoman for nothing." Biting into another piece, she smiled as her phone vibrated multiple times. Looking at the name across the screen, she immediately sighed and got up off her seat and signalled that she would be back.

The school's name flashed across her screen as she walked into the familiar hallway towards the guest bedroom.

"Hello Ms Brown! I hope this doesn't disturb your holiday." Lisa, the headmaster of the school, greeted with such enthusiasm.

"Well, it slightly is but what does that matter. Anything you need? Has the parents evening been postponed?" She scratched her head as she held the phone up to her ear.

"Uh, no. There's something I wanted to discuss with you and I thought it would be great for a one on one. We as the school has noticed you are quite the star these days, bringing much more traction than what you get from school already." Lisa chuckled at the last sentence, seeming to quiet down when she realised Nadia wasn't laughing.

"Oh, yes Ms Crawford. This was a subject I had wanted to discuss with the rest of the staff when we get back from the holidays. Of course this isn't something minuscule, all the media attention has been quite intense." Nadia responded, watching as Roscoe walked closer to her and sat by her feet.

There was a beat of silence from the other end of the phone call. "That was what I wanted to actually talk to you about, Ms Brown-"

"Its Mrs Hamilton." Nadia corrected.

"Ah yes, my apologies Mrs Hamilton. As much as we do appreciate your ways of teaching here at our school, we as the board have been thinking of releasing you from your position as the history teacher. Now I know it's all sudden but we feel it's good for our school." Lisa announced, voice filled with pity.

"Now excuse my manners, Ms Crawford, but I would like to know who all decided to quote on quote, fire me. Furthermore, when signing the work contract, you personally had assured me that you would stand behind your teachers through it all. Am I correct?" She started, standing up straight with Roscoe following suit.

"You are correct however this would ruin the reputation of the school and our relationships with other schools in the district. It truly pains us to do so." With the same false pity tone, Lisa spoke.

"I hope you do realise that we are about to start the second term of the school year after these two weeks and I do not appreciate the current dismissal you are going through with just solely because I married a prominent figure. Neither do I wish to leave my flourishing students because the board does not agree with my marriage." Nadia indicated.

"Not to mention prior to this conversation, no one had contacted me in regards to a possible sacking. So I would like for you and the rest of the board to rethink your approach on this matter. I do not accept this and this issue can be taken to court if you prefer to continue with this. And through a phone call? Really?" With that, Nadia knew she had won upon hearing the sigh on the other side of the phone.

With a few moments passing by, Lisa sighed out. "You are correct about this, I do apologise. See you after the holidays then, Mrs Hamilton." And with that, the headmaster said her goodbyes in defeat.

Crouching down to pet Roscoe, she held his face in her hands. "We fucking did that, boy. Thanks for being there, you not so bad after all." She smiled at the happy dog, standing up straight to back downstairs to finish her breakfast.

"And? What was that?" Lewis spoke up, putting his phone down next to his fruit bowl.

"These bitches tried to fire me so I said no. Can't get rid of their only history teacher." She wiggled her shoulders with the biggest smile on her face, biting down on the remaining fruits.

"And your dog's cool. Sat with me the whole time."

"Damn. Remind me to never get on your bad side. Let's get celebratory croissants?" Lewis giggled, taking both of their plates to wash them off.

"You read my mind, Sir!"

Standing in front of the open garage door, Nadia stared at the two cars in front of her. The sun in the courtyard was hitting her back but she didn't mind, as long as she continued to look at the cars.

Lewis' words rang in her head, unable to shake off the fact that technically, these were her cars as well. The Urus was very tempting to drive but she knew she didn't trust herself with that type of speed yet. The Mercedes GLE however, looked so classy and seemed like a joy to drive.

The decision took so long that she didn't notice that Lewis was taking pictures of the scene in front of him, his wife stuck between choosing cars to drive on the sunny streets of LA. "Can I drive today?" She asked once realising that he was next to her, wearing a comfortable outfit.

"You can drive whenever you want." He smiled, handing her the keys of the suv he knew she was going to pick. "Okay, cute. You'll be my passenger prince." She smiled, pinching his cheek then happily walked towards the driver's side.

Just sighing in content, he walked to the passenger's side, hopping in to see Nadia exploring the interior of the car, matching that of the black exterior. "This shit is huge." She muttered to herself as she leaned over to look at the backseats and all its intricate details.

"And before you say anything pookie bear, Tia made me do an international license when we didn't see each other. So you're safe driving with me." She reassured, putting her now blonde hair behind her ears.

"I think i like this passenger prince business." He expressed, already making himself in the seat, pushing it back and relaxing.

"Let me search up a bakery and we'll be on our way." Nadia started the car up and was geeked by the roar of the car.

And on their way they were. Blasting Beyoncé as Lewis suggested they go to a vegan bakery in Malibu, the two sang both old and new songs during the drive. Barely through her hip hop playlist, she found parking in front of the surprisingly popular bakery.

"Now you know I don't play about Beyoncé. I did not expect this place to be busy right now." Nadia pointed out, fixing the sunglasses on her head. "You'd be shocked at the amount of vegan people in Malibu alone. If you want, I can go in by myself and get the treats." He offered, unbuckling his seatbelt and holding his phone in his hand.

"We're going in together, I do not look this cute to sit in the car." She flipped her hair, dramatically exiting the car, making him laugh quite loud at her antics. Holding his hand out, Lewis connected his with Nadia's, feeling a chill when he felt her ring touch his skin. He led the way into the bakery, the sweet smell of the treats was a bit of a treat in itself.

Gasping at the baked goods on display, she didn't hesitate to greet and place an order, mouth salivating at the sight of the treats. Once Lewis also made his order, Nadia brought out her card to pay, wanting to test that it actually worked and it definitely did.

Enjoying the chocolate doughnuts in the bakery, the two laughed at the whole ordeal of the phone call this morning. "I've never had a good relationship with this new headmaster at all. She has been on my case since she joined two years ago." Nadia informed, drinking a bit of her pink lemonade.

"The courage of just saying no is so endearing to hear. Can't believe she wanted to sack you in the middle of a term. Again, the courage is so cool, Nads." He complimented her and he watched as her shoulders started to rise as a way of blushing.

"Thanks, pookie bear. Means a lot. So where to from here?" She asked, ignoring his gaze on her the whole time.

"We've got lunch with friends of mine, then home time." He said so calmly, not noticing Nadia's eyes widening at the information.

"I'm not dressed for lunch with your friends, Lew! Could've warned a girl first." She stressed, looking down at her outfit. "Wanted you to be comfortable the whole day hence I didn't tell you our plans today." He showed his full smile, wanting so badly to laugh at her facial expression.

"You are so lucky you're sitting across me right now or else I would've bitten you." She rolled her eyes at his giggles.

Within a matter of time, the Mercedes suv entered through the high black gates of their destination with a press of a button on the intercom outside. Nadia drove in the driveway quite slowly, unfamiliar with her surroundings as she saw a cars parked in the courtyard. The sound of the waves crashing could be heard when stepping out of the car.

"Damn your friend's got bank." She commented, opening the backseat door to get her purse. "And by the sea too? I just know it's a different world here." She added, closing her door and locked the car when she saw Lewis walk closer to her with a smirk on his face.

"Yeah, Bey and Jay wanted serenity next to the sea." He said, looking back at Nadia who was frozen in her tracks.

"Did you just fucking say Bey and Jay?!" She whisper yelled as she pulled Lewis closer to her. He nodded with the same expression he had from before. "Are you fucking crazy? I can't meet Beyoncé, Lewis! I'm not ready!" Nadia's stress levels were sky high as she held onto his arm tighter, standing by the car.

"Wanted to tell you earlier but when you started playing her music in the car, just knew I had to surprise you." He smiled. "Look, if it makes it any better, she's excited to meet you as well." Lewis told her and if her eyes couldn't get any wider, she looked behind her husband's broad arm to see the woman of the hour walk towards them.

"There you two are! We were scared y'all weren't coming no more!" The happy southern voice rang through the courtyard and Nadia was scared shitless. "My goodness, Lewis! She's a beauty. Hi, I'm Beyoncé." The woman introduced herself to Nadia and she quickly snapped out of it once she realised her favourite artist was speaking directly to her.

"Hello, I'm Nadia." She managed to speak up as Beyoncé extended her hand out to shake hers. Surprisingly enough, Nadia's hands weren't sweaty neither did she stutter over her words like she thought she would. The woman went on to greet Lewis with a side hug then invited them inside.

"It was so lovely meeting you guys, a full circle moment on my end." Nadia smiled, holding onto her purse and onto Rumi's hand, the little girl so interested in everything that has to do with Nadia. "No, it was our pleasure to host you guys. My God, a couple I never saw coming. Y'all welcome back here anytime." Beyoncé said, the group of 4 walking towards the front door and into the courtyard once again.

"We'll definitely take you up on that offer, thank you for inviting us into your lovely home. Better get home before it gets too dark." Nadia replied, leaning into the hug between her and Bey whilst looking at the sunset over the horizon.

"We'll catch y'all in Paris." Jay Z smiled with a toothpick in his mouth. He dapped Lewis up as everyone said their goodbyes after a successful lunch. Now sitting in the passenger seat, Nadia held her head in her hands as he swiftly drove out the long driveway.

"I just met Beyoncé, I don't think you understand the damage you just did." She turned to Lewis, who kept the same smile as before. "And that is?" "I'm never going to stop talking about it."

"I'm glad you're happy. Saw an opportunity and I ran for it." He voiced, patting her thigh before putting his hand back on the steering wheel. "Remind me to give you the biggest hug when we get home." She smiled, becoming comfortable in the seat, not knowing how much Lewis' heart raced after hearing her refer to the house as home.

FRIDAY

"Stay still! I need my vision to come to life." Nadia ordered, holding his face in her hands. There were two different earrings on his ears and she was trying to decide which better suited the outfit. "Okay, wear the first pair then go to the mirror and tell me what you think." She requested, standing back to let him look at his outfit.

"Oh this is really good. Ooh, this outfit is good." He admired his outfit in the mirror, impressed by her styling and how she kept it simple yet so him.

"Glad you love it. Let me go get changed so that we won't be late." She rushed, almost running out of his room to hers, luckily her hair and makeup was done. Nadia quickly put on her outfit and made sure to take pictures in the big mirror in the closet.

Soothing over her top, she then places her sunglasses on her head and spritz her perfume for the last time before stepping out the room. At the same time, Lewis stepped out of his room and glanced at her outfit before doing a double take.

Everything sat so perfectly, the outfit had really simple colours that weren’t too loud but her silhouette accentuated it all. Both outfits complimented each other greatly whilst showing their own style individually. “Wow.” He blurted out, hoping that she didn’t hear that.

“Damn I did good.” She muttered to herself as she looked at him as well, very proud of her styling.

“You ready to go?” Lewis asked, finally focusing on her face and fidgeting with his rings. “Yeah, yeah.” She said in a light voice, carefully walking towards the stairs then feeling his hand slip into hers to help her downstairs.

“Remember, this isn’t real,Nadia.”

“Remember, this isn’t real, Lewis.”

nadiahamilton • 15 min ago “great day to be a lakers fan”

dividers by: @cafekitsune

nadia’s faceclaim: @/unclewaffles on ig!

all pictures are from ig and pinterest!

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#saint writes #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fic #f1 x oc #f1 x black!reader #f1 fic #renaissance: the series

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gojomamashouse · 1 year ago

Text

I certainly can. And I did. Well, sort of. I took some creative liberties with this one. Crossposted on Ao3.

Warnings: 18+ Content Vaginal sex, Praise kink, Loss of virginity (both reader and Mike), soft!dom Mike.

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader

Summary: From the name written on your sneakers to the hickey on your neck, Mike had left his mark on you in more ways than one.

Words: 5.8k

According to fandom wiki, Mike is 25 in the movie. The timeline of this story is based on this fact.

In Permanent Marker

1995

Mike has a problem. An even bigger problem than his annoying younger sister, or the bills he cannot pay that keep piling up. That problem is you, his new next-door neighbour.

It all began when he had been unloading the boxes from the car, calling out to Abby as she disappeared to explore the new house. The place was small, but enough for the two of them. More importantly, it was as affordable as it could get, given the savings his parents left behind, the money from the government, and his new job. That was all he really needed.

"Need help, there?"

A voice broke him from his thoughts, a voice belonging to you. He did a double take as he looked to his side towards you, nearly dropping the box in shock. He blinks as if you're nothing more than a hallucination, induced by his lack of sleep, dehydration, and the summer heat. Because there was no way that you were standing there. Someone his age. Someone so attractive. Someone exactly his type and talking to him. You take notice of his shocked expression.

"My folks and I saw you from the window," you point to the house left of his, "thought I could lend a hand.”

"Yeah. Yeah, uh," he nods eagerly, breaking eye contact as he fumbles over his words. He looks back towards the house, "If you could watch my little sister while I unload these. She’s somewhere inside…”

“You’ve got it,” you flash him a smile.

—

He’s sweating and close to passing out as he places the last box down in the front hallway, bracing himself against the wall as he catches his breath. He then looks around. There’s no furniture yet. He couldn’t afford movers to help move the couch or the kitchen table from his parent’s old house, instead opting to sell the furniture and find cheaper options once moved in. That meant he’d be eating on the floor until he had time off work again. This also meant he’d have to take Abby table-shopping and listen to her complain every time she picked something out of his price range, then cry the whole drive back home. He groans to himself, annoyed by his endless stream of thoughts. He supposes that’s just adulthood, now. There’s always something to think about.

He hears giggling from down the hallway, grabbing his attention enough to raise himself from the wall. He creeps towards the sound, peeking past Abby's door. A box was open on the floor, toys and crafts scattered across the carpet. You sit cross-legged in the middle of the room at Abby’s side and she’s pointing to her drawings, chattering away.

He wonders how you make it look so easy.

—

"I don't like it here." Abby tugs on the leg of his jeans, "Can we go back?"

It’s the last thing Mike wants to hear the morning after moving in, his back and arms still sore from all that he carried. He looks down to see her lips were pulled into a frown, her brows furrowed. He's leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking instant coffee from a mug he'd managed to dig out from one of the kitchenware boxes, staring at all the shit he has left to do. And, of course, his sister could never let him do that in peace.

"This is where we live now."

"Why?"

"Because it is."

"I don't want to live here."

And I don't want to work shitty hours for shitty pay just to afford this dump, he thinks to himself.

Still, he can't blame her. The place is a downgrade. The toilet in the main bathroom doesn't really flush, her room is half the size of the one at their parent's old place, and he’d discovered more than a few suspicious stains on some of the walls and carpeting around the house.

"Well, that's just too bad."

"I want to go back!" She shouted, her little fingers digging harder into the fabric of his jeans, now trying to tug his leg. He tries to nudge her off, shaking his leg just enough to make her lose her grip, but she doesn't budge. He sighs to himself.

She's at that age. Five years old, and a complete menace. She was smarter than she looked and had begun to realize that sometimes creating a fuss could get him to bend the rules for her, which now meant she was constantly defying him. Constantly picking a fight. Constantly whining about something. And as much as he loved her he could not stand to hear another tantrum, especially not this early in the morning.

"Stop it, Abby. I'm not dealing with this today."

"Nu-uh!"

She screams when he tugs her away with his hands, lifting her in the air while she tries to kick and shove him away. He knows he's bound to have bruises from where she kicks his torso and scratches where her nails dig into his skin. Had he any energy left in him, he might have been tempted to raise his voice at her. That's one good thing to come out of his restless nights, at least.

The doorbell rings and she's still whining when he places her down on the floor. He kneels to her level, hands on either of her little shoulders.

"We can talk about it later, okay?" He lowers his voice, desperate for her to be quiet. Anything for her to be quiet. "Behave. And quit being such a baby."

His words were enough to render her silent, by some miracle, and so he goes to the door, only to see you standing there. You . He knows he's ogling again and he hates himself for it but he can't help himself, not when you're so pretty. He leans against the doorframe, clearing his throat.

"Hey, uh. What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too. Thought you might need more help," You lean forward, taking a peek inside the place and noting all the boxes, "Judging by all this, I guess I thought correctly."

"Guilty as charged," he holds his hands up, cherishing the sound of your laugh.

The moment doesn't last long. He fails to notice that behind him, his sister is teary-eyed, her lower lip quivering. You furrow your brows, about to say something, but the little girl beats you to it.

"You— you jerk!" Abby finally lets out, and you stand dumbfounded at the door, watching the crying girl. She turns to Mike. "I hate you!"

She runs off to some room somewhere and slams the door, the distant sound of sobs easily heard from down the hallway where you two stood. While you stood there in shock, Mike had grown used to these outbursts, but it didn't leave him entirely unfazed. There was still a tug on his heart like there always was.

"She's just having a moment right now," he sighs, his fingers rubbing his temples, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You're not going to go and talk to her?"

"She hates me. Didn't you hear?"

"You know that's not true," you shove past him, your hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment longer which certainly did not go unnoticed, "come on."

"What do I even say?"

"You're going to go apologize, dumbass."

That's how he found himself standing outside his sister's door. He was about to simply walk in, until you stopped him, your hand on top of his as he reached for the knob.

"Knock first."

He would've asked why but he's too distracted by how your little touches keep making his face grow hotter, so he simply nods and does as you say, raising his fist to the door. He hears Abby's sobs halt the moment he does. He looks to you, and you nod, as if to signal him to start talking.

"Abs?"

There's a sniffle. "Go away."

"Look, I'm sorry for hurting you. Just open the door." You toss him a glare, "Please?"

There's a pause.

"Liar," she hisses, "you're only sorry 'cause they're making you."

Mike is about to retort, but you raise your hand to silence him.

"Abby, we both want to make sure you're alright. Could you please open the door so we can talk?"

There's a pause and then a shuffle, the sound of her moving from the floor to go and open the door. She's red in the face, snot-nosed and teary-eyed. Mike's heart can't help but break at the sight. He's an idiot. A complete and utter idiot.

"I-I'm not a baby," she blinks at Mike, lifting her arm to wipe her snot on her sleeve, "Y-you're always s-so mean to me. I hate that."

"I didn't mean it. I just, uh... I say stuff sometimes." He frowns, a trembling in his voice. He speaks softly as if it will compensate for all the harsh words spoken prior, "I promise I won't say mean stuff anymore. Honest."

"Pinky promise?"

She raises her pinky finger.

"Yeah. Pinky promise."

He raises his own, letting her little finger curl around his. She quickly wipes her tears away.

The rest of the day is spent doing whatever Abby wants. Mike discovers quickly that you seem to love spoiling her. You take her to the park, let her unpack all her toys and leave them tossed all around the house. You end up ordering pizza at her request, as well, and by the end of the day, she’s saying she wishes you were her older sibling instead. Though it’s said jokingly, it still pierces him through the heart.

The day ends with a tired Abby curled up in her sleeping bag on the floor of her room. Now he's with you, you sitting atop the counter at his side while he places the leftover pizza slices from the takeout boxes into ziplock bags. If he had it his way, the day would have ended with all the moving boxes being unpacked, but he supposes a happy Abby makes his life a hell of a lot easier than an unhappy one.

"She's a lot easier than most her age."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm the oldest ' kid ' in this neighbourhood. I've babysat for practically every family around here," you sip your drink, "she was very quick to forgive you. Not just any kid does that."

Garett had been the same way. Every prank he played, every cruel joke, he forgave him for because that’s just what older brothers do. The difference being that he was a child back then, not an adult. He may be Abby’s older brother by blood, but he needed to be more than that now. She needed him to be more than that.

He finishes packaging the last slice and throws the leftovers in the fridge. He's now fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie— a poor choice of clothing for the midst of a summer heat wave, but he didn't exactly have lots of options. He supposes he should add clothing shopping to his already long to-do list.

“What am I doing?” He says aloud, “I can’t do this.”

“Don’t say that.”

"This always happens. I get annoyed, she gets hurt, and it’s going to happen again.”

"Nobody's made for this at our age,” you gesture around at the house, then at him, “You're bound to fuck up, that's just inevitable."

"Yeah, thanks,” he deadpans.

"That’s not what I meant. You live and you learn, that's what you do. No one's perfect but we can always try.”

“What if me trying isn’t enough?”

“It’s better than not trying at all.”

He looks back down the hallway, at Abby’s door. Does she care that he's trying? Does she know how much he has sacrificed to give her a semblance of a normal life? He scoffs at himself internally. She's a child, of course she doesn't. That's not her fault. It’s not her responsibility either. She’s the kid, and he’s the adult now. It’s unfair on both sides but that’s the way things are.

"Thank you. For all the help, and everything," He finally says, turning to you.

"That's what neighbours are for, right?" You’re hopping off the counter. It was dark outside now, and fair to assume you’d be on your way home. Only, you halt in your tracks for a moment. "Wait, one more thing."

You pull out one of those disposable cameras from the pharmacy. It’s scratched and beaten up, evidence of its use. He freezes up when he feels your arm draping around him to pull him into the frame and snap a quick picture. He blinks from the flash, and you laugh at the way his eyes squint, shoving the camera back into your pocket.

"The hell?" He raises a brow, "that's going to be an awful one, just so you know."

"I don't care if photos look good. It's about the memories and all that." you roll your eyes, "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early. We're going to finish unpacking.”

You're out the door before he can even reply.

—

He starts to learn who you are, piece by piece. He learns that you don't know a single thing about keeping your curtains drawn shut and that you're completely oblivious to how he's seen you in your room in your pyjamas at night, talking on the phone while you twirl the telephone cord around your finger. He learns that you go to college out of state, which is why you're so insistent on taking photos of everything you can because you get homesick so easily. He learns, that because of that, he won't be seeing you after the summer for many months and struggles to figure out why that thought leaves a dreaded ache in his heart.

The ache only grows the more time he spends with you, whether it’s with Abby or one-on-one. He thinks he’s going to die when he sees you packing up your car at the end of the summer, but offers to help you out regardless.

"Have fun," he says to you, hating how disingenuous the words feel on his tongue.

Your car is now packed, and you're on the steps, him standing on the stone path below. You look up at him with a smile while you're lacing up your shoes. It's those damn shoes you always wear, always torn up and dirty and desperately in need of being replaced. He's not one to talk when it comes to proper footwear, but he swears they are only a thread away from being torn apart.

"I'll try."

You finish doing up your laces, and pull out a permanent marker from your pocket, handing it to him. He gives you a confused look.

"Sign it."

"What?"

"My shoe," you repeat, and he takes notice of your sneakers, varying names written along the white rim already, all in different colours and sizes. "It's something I've been doing since high school. Just to remember."

Knowing how you treasure your photos, it only makes sense to him now. He kneels down and signs it in the black marker, his handwriting atrocious, but evidently an effort to make it appear more legible than normal. He lets go of your ankle when he's done and you smile, raising it to look at his handiwork.

"I tried."

"Hey, it's not that bad."

"It's pretty bad."

You both laugh, and you stand up finally, stepping down to his level. He tries not to show his shock when he feels your arms wrap around him, pulling him tightly towards you. He happily accepts the embrace, soaking up the affection like a dried-out sponge.

"One last thing," you whisper to him, and he feels your hand slip something into his pocket. “Look at it later, ‘kay?”

"I'll miss you."

"I'll be back."

And though he wants to believe you will, he can't help but stare into your dark windows that night, counting down every day until your return. Not everyone in his life has, after all.

He checked his pocket the moment you left earlier that day. It was the photo of the two of you in his kitchen, from one of the first days you met. It was blurry and dark but he could make out the sight of your smile and his face of confusion. The back side has the date written.

He places the photo on his nightstand and rolls over on his back, staring at the Nebraska poster on his ceiling. He took his meds not long ago, his eyes drooping, but his mind unable to stay focused, his thoughts drifting towards you.

—

1996

The last time you called his home line, you said you'd be home in a few weeks, but he still hasn’t seen you yet. The light in your bedroom window remains turned off. He wishes the thought of seeing you again didn’t have him so restless.

Today is his birthday. A whopping twenty-one years old. If he were a normal person, he'd be out with friends, pouring liquor down his throat until he couldn't drink anymore. Instead, he went to work, then returned home late to greet the babysitter on the couch, her middle school textbooks sprawled on the coffee table and Abby already in bed. She’s gone the moment he hands her a twenty-bill, peddling away on her bicycle.

Though the house now has furniture, it still feels so empty. He sits alone on the couch, the sounds from the TV turning into a soft humming. He doesn’t want to think about the dirty plates in the sink or Abby's toys and crayons that littered the living room floor.

His heart skips a beat when he hears a knock on the door. He tentatively gets up, swallowing dryly. It couldn’t be you. You would have called him or said something, right? He’s never been so thankful to be wrong in his life because when he sees you standing there on his steps, in those torn-up sneakers with his name on them, with a six-pack of beer in your hands, he’s immediately grinning like a child.

"Where the hell have you been?" he looks down at the alcohol in your hands, "what's this?"

"A gift for the birthday boy," you grin, "twenty-one. That's a pretty big age."

"Are you twenty-one yet?" He raises a brow.

"You want the beer or not?"

"Alright, alright," he looks into the house, the place dead silent save for the TV. "Let's go out back. Abby has school tomorrow. I don't want to wake her."

Sharing the company of another had become so foreign to him at this point that he forgot how nice it feels to be human. To feel the summer breeze through the fabric of his t-shirt, to feel the condensation from the cold can drip down his fingers, to feel the warmth of the alcohol sitting nicely in his stomach. Hell, he doesn’t even mind how shit the beer you bought tastes, though the initial shock causes him to cough the moment the first gulp is downed.

"Don't tell me you actually waited until now to have your first drink," he hears you say.

"I didn't, but I don't drink that much. Especially not this," he eyes the brand name on the can.

"I was tired of college parties and all the watered-down shit alright? I needed something different."

"Must be exhausting . Getting invited to so many parties."

"Oh, shut it," you shake your head, "trust me, college is lonelier than you think."

He stares down at your sneakers, noticing that not a single new name has been written. One part of him wonders how anyone could not want to become your friend. The other part of him is proud that he’s the last person to sign it, his name standing out compared to all the other old, faded-out ones.

"That's one thing we have in common."

"I take it life's not so great, either?"

"Abby has been acting out less but now she barely talks.” He sighs, “It's... another thing to think about."

There’s a pause.

“Then don’t think about it. Not tonight.”

“Easier said than done,” he rolls his eyes.

"Come on, it’s your birthday and we’re out here moping on your back porch. That's no way to celebrate."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Something. Anything. I dunno, you're the birthday boy. What do you wanna do?"

"I..." his eyes trail down to your lips and stop. He knows he's being obvious but he's tired enough to where he doesn't really care anymore to hide it. He sees how your brows knit together, and he looks away. "I'm fine doing this."

"That's not what I asked." He feels your hand creep over to his, flat against the porch. Your touch is electric. He allows himself to look at you again. Your eyes are determined and your touch is intentional, he's sure. "I asked what you want ?"

Hesitantly, he lets his hand intertwine with yours. He's barely able to meet your eyes, embarrassed by his cheeks which he knew were most likely pink by now.

"I want you."

His other hand raises to your cheek, his cold hand against warm skin. His eyes speak to you, though his mouth says nothing, asking for permission. You lean in yourself, tired of his hesitation. You can taste the alcohol on his lips, his mouth so tender and sweet against yours. He's gentle and endearingly clumsy but above all else, he's desperate and he kisses you like you'll disappear the moment he lets you go. His hand is tighter around yours and the other that had first been against your cheek drifted to the back of your neck. You hear him let out a sound when your hand runs through the back of his hair and you're both pulling away, still craving something more.

"How much of me do you want?"

"So much," he gulps, "so much more."

There's a grin on your lips as you drag him by the hand, abandoning the half-drank beer cans as you enter the house. Careful not to alert Abby, who was sleeping next to his room, you both tip-toe down the hallway, unable to help the giggles that escape your mouths. Then, the moment you're in his bedroom, you're pushing him against the door, seizing his lips. You feel his abs under his T-shirt, realizing just what he had been hiding under all those hoodies last summer. You feel the warmth radiating from him, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You smile against his mouth when you feel his hand at your waist, slipping under your top to fit right into the arch of your back. He's holding back, you can tell, and it only makes you want to fan the flames and let him burn even brighter.

You tug him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards the mattress until his legs hit the edge and he’s sitting, your body crawling on top of him. And, for someone who had been concerned about not waking his sister, he sure allows himself to make so many pretty noises. He pulls away for air once again and looks up at you like he worships you, his hands on either thigh while you lean your forehead against his own. He then lets out a laugh, still genuine, though hushed.

"What's so funny?" You murmur.

"This is the best birthday gift I've had in years."

"But you haven't even unwrapped me yet," you quirk your brow. "You said you wanted more, didn't you?"

"I did," he hums, his eyes dragging down over your body, shyly. "Still do. If that's what you want, too."

"You already know I do."

He brings his fingers to the hem of your shirt and slowly lifts it, your arms raising to help him slip it off. You feel yourself shudder under his analytical gaze, even though the night is sweltering. You feel the goosebumps rise under your skin as his fingers brush over your body as if to memorize every curve and texture with his fingertips. And though you had done your best to mask your inexperience all night, it became obvious to him, the moment you were squirming before him— topless— the truth.

"I've never done this before," you admit before he can ask you, feeling more vulnerable than ever as he stares up at you, the most anyone had ever seen of you beneath your clothing.

"That's okay," he tilts his head, big brown eyes looking right back at yours, "if it's okay with—"

"I've already told you it is. Everything is okay with me. Please. "

He nods, his hands reaching behind you, and you feel his fingers at the clasp of your bra. There's a flush on his face as he fumbles with it, brows scrunched as he tries to pull it apart. Then, it hits you. The look in his eyes, the uncertainty in his actions, the constant need for reassurance. He's been trying to hide it just like you were. Had your own mind not been so clouded, perhaps you would have noticed it far sooner. You reach behind yourself, hand brushing past his own to unclasp the bra yourself, before letting it slide down your shoulders. There's a glimmer in his eyes as he takes in your half-naked form, mouth parted slightly.

"You've never done this either, have you?" You ask, hands looped around the back of his neck as you seat yourself better in his lap. You try not to make a sound when you feel his erection through his gym shorts, pressed right up against where you need friction the most.

"Never," he manages to say, somehow. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"We'll figure it out."

You're kissing him again, and this time you're the one fumbling to remove his shirt, unable to properly admire his exposed body as his mouth is pressed against yours the moment the garment is removed. You feel yourself start to crumble at every little noise he makes, every little touch and grinding of his hips into yours. Then his mouth is trailing down your neck and his hands are on your breasts, his touch gentle but his lips hungry. You feel his lips suck on a particular spot on your collarbone and hiss, your fingers threading through his hair.

"You're gonna leave a mark.”

He pulls away, not quite sporting a grin, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s proud, regardless.

"Is that a problem?"

"Bastard," you retort.

With that, you're pushing him down until his back is against the mattress, leaving your own trail of kisses down his neck and chest, a flurry of butterflies in your stomach every time you hear his noises, and whispers of praise. You reach down for his shorts, tugging them down, this time you're able to get a better view of him beneath you. Your hand traces the outline of the muscles on his abdomen and chest, feeling your face heat up, again reminded just how built he was. As if he couldn't get any hotter, you notice the trail of hair leading from his belly button, disappearing beneath his boxers. You suck in a breath, your pupils blown wide.

“I'm gonna go insane if you don't touch me right now,” he says, allowing you to realize just how long you had been staring him down.

The words go straight through you, reminding you of your arousal between your legs, and how you were currently sitting right on top of his dick, the only barrier between you being each other's underwear. You rock your hips against him and hear him whine, your hands flat against his chest. It almost scares you how good it already feels, without having done much of anything at all.

"You have any condoms?" You ask.

"Yeah, think so," he stammers, his eyes darting towards his dresser.

You get up, feeling his eyes on your ass as you dig through the drawer, sifting through clutter. Momentarily, you smile when you find the photo you gave him last year— before returning to the task at hand. You find a condom buried at the very back.

"Were you prepared for this?" You tease.

"I don't think that far ahead. They’re free handouts from sex Ed, senior year."

"If you actually paid attention in that class, you'd know that condoms have an expiration date."

"I did pay attention," he says as you settle yourself back on top of him, the foil between your fingers. "They're not expired yet ."

"Yeah? What else did you learn?"

You suppress a yelp when you feel your position forcibly switched, your back now against the mattress with him hovering over you. The condom had disappeared into his hand.

"That you probably shouldn't be on top for your first," you feel his hand at your panties, brushing your clit over the fabric, "and that you're gonna need more foreplay than just dry humping."

You notice how he looks at you for approval before tossing your underwear aside, admiring how your slick coats his fingers. You'd touched yourself enough times before to know what this feels like but somehow, when it's him doing it instead of yourself, you already feel you'll fall apart at any moment. Your clit is swollen and your hole flutters around nothing as his fingers continue to tease you. Fortunately, he slips his middle finger in before you can scold him for being a tease— and fuck it's so much more than you're used to. His fingers reach inside you better than yours ever did you feel your mouth go agape, your hand reaching to clasp over your mouth out of fear your noises will echo through the mostly silent house.

"Mike," you plea, but to no avail, one hand still desperate to muffle your sounds while the other gripped the bedsheets.

“Is it… am I doing it right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “please, don’t stop.”

You’d heard horror stories before from others, about how aggressive some men were with their first times. But you think Mike is the opposite. So gentle and considerate— uncertain and awkward, sure, but with a willingness to learn and try.

“Doing so well,” he whispers sweetly, “you’re so perfect.”

You're so close to reaching your high that you almost wish you could strangle him the moment he pulls away, leaning down to capture your lips into a kiss. You then hear the sound of the foil being torn apart and the feeling of his dick rubbing against your centre. Despite his smile, you notice the worry behind his eyes. He's terrified. So, you bring your hand to his cheek.

"I want this," you reassure once again.

He nods.

He slips the tip in and your body spasms, the intrusion feeling so foreign. He watches your expression change with each passing moment he spends pushing into you. He loves the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter shut. Loves how your brows scrunch together. All because of him. You’re so soft and warm around him and he’s struggling to cool himself down.

"So much," you comment, your eyes half-lidded when he finally bottoms you out, your bottom lip pulled by your teeth. He tries not to let the compliment get to him, otherwise, he knows he’ll be finishing faster than he wants.

"You're doing so good," he whispers, his hand intertwining with your own, "taking me so well. Can you keep doing that?"

You nod, and he whimpers, taking another thrust. Your nails are digging into his shoulder blades but he doesn't care. It’s another distraction, helping him hold himself together while you take him. He takes another thrust and nearly loses it when he watches you whine, tilting your face to the side.

“More,” you let out.

You feel every inch of him inside you, pressing against your most sensitive parts and though the initial discomfort hadn’t fully yet faded, you start to feel yourself getting lost in pleasure the more you accommodate him. You continue to drag your nails down his back, the knot inside of you growing tighter. You reach down to touch your clit, aching for more stimulation, but he’s quickly replacing your hand with his own, rubbing circles into you.

“So good.”

“Yeah?” He stammers out, finding it difficult to string words together in the moment.

“You feel so good, Mike.”

He didn’t realize how fucking hot it would be to hear you say his name while you’re fucked out like this until you do, and he feels himself losing a grasp on himself.

The feeling inside of you starts to snap and your body is thrashing around as you approach your high. He feels you grasping onto him like he’s your lifeline, shaking through your cries, which are muffled by your hand on your mouth. He, too, reaches his limit, and he’s burying his face into the crook of your neck in the hopes that he isn’t too loud.

All that’s left is the sound of both of you breathing when it’s over, and you hear him get up, throwing the rubber away. The bed dips at your side and you feel him on top of you again, head buried into your neck as he holds you. You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, your fingers raking through his brown curls.

It's different from all the times you've touched yourself beneath your sheets in the dead of night. Instead of coming down from your high and laying your head against a cold pillow, your head is against him. You can feel every beating of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. You can feel the stubble on his chin and jaw tickling the crook of your neck. You're shaking, sweating and your whole body aches, yet you want nothing more than to lay here with him. And though you could have given yourself to some other person in college, you know it would not have been the same with anyone else other than the messy-haired brunette who lay atop you.

"Missed you so much," he whispers, "please stay?"

You stare at your house through his window, choosing not to think too hard about the view he has into your bedroom from this angle. Your family wouldn’t care.

"I'm here," you respond, pressing a kiss to his head.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x you #fnaf x reader

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redbirdandbluebird23 · 15 days ago

Text

This Could Be The Place

Written for the DCU Valentine's Day Prompt Week 2025

Masterlist

They don't plan to move out together , but like most things in their lives, it just happens that way. No one bats an eye, they've been DickandJason and JasonandDick for as long as anyone can remember, it's just expected at this point that they'll move out together too. Bruce's only complaint is over the fact Jason insists on moving back to the outskirts of Park Row. But Jason's already prepared with his arguments: it's close to both of their university buildings, the library where Jason's going to be volunteering under Babs, and Dick's gymnastics gym, and it'll mean he's right where he's needed to help run the Wayne Foundation outreach programme in the alley. Dick backs him on each point, even though his only stipulation when they’re looking for places to live is that they're together and he has enough space to lay out his yoga mat.

The move itself is chaotic, even with Bruce's expensive movers that take care of all the furniture for them. But once they're settled in, it's easy . They've been living together since they were eight years old in one way or another so they're already well versed in each other's bad habits and how to avoid too much frustration, or diffuse the frustration once it arises.

Sharing clothes isn't a new thing for them, it's something they'd been doing long before Bruce brought them home. They'd been almost the same size as kids so it just made sense to have a communal wardrobe. But then they turned thirteen and Dick was the first to hit a growth spurt, gaining what felt like four inches on Jason overnight. That didn't stop them sharing clothes, it just meant Dick spent half the time with his ankles and midriff exposed, something that was decidedly not fun for recently-entered-puberty-Jason. Meanwhile Jason would be walking around in shirts that drowned him and trousers that had to be cuffed several times at the bottom so he wouldn't trip over them. They'd hit the same height again by fifteen, and spent a blessed few months with all their combined clothes fitting them both properly. But then Dick seemed to freeze at 5'10 and Jason kept going to 6'2. While physique wise they're pretty similar because Dick has had Jason running gymnastics drills and workouts since they met, Jason's always been a little broader in both the shoulder and thigh area.

It means that now Jason is the one walking around with shirts just a bit too tight stretched over his shoulders that expose his abdomen if he shifts wrong, and trousers that cling to his thighs like a second skin and are a bit too short at the ankles. All while Dick walks around in things that are just slightly too baggy.

Jason knows he never really grew out of his crush on his best friend, it's further amplified by what he knows most people see as an unhealthy codependency. Other people don't get it- don't get them - don't get what they've been through and come through together. But that doesn't matter because Jason and Dick do.

Read on Ao3

#jaydick #dickjay #dcuvalentinespromptweek2025 #dick grayson #jason todd #dick grayson/jason todd

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shingekinohyrulewrites · 5 months ago

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Almost Lovers

You had been in love with Eren Jaeger since you were kids. Over the years, you've had multiple chances to get together, but nothing has happened. How long can you wait for him to do something ?

Read on AO3 here

It was impossible to think about your upbringing without thinking about Eren Jaeger.

The two of you had first met when you were about to turn four. Your family had moved across the country, your Dad getting a promotion which prompted you to pack up and leave. Although you were small at the time, completely unaware of the change, you still remember the awe on your face when you came to a stop in front of your new home. It was a beautiful, two story home with a neatly manicured lawn in a quiet suburban neighborhood.

Your parents were busy guiding the movers, instructing them to place furniture in certain rooms. They had immediately set up the porch furniture, placing you on the bench before resuming their previous activity. Your little legs had been swinging aimlessly, humming to yourself as you watched the movers go in and out.

“Hello there!”

A woman was standing at the foot of the driveway, a plate of cookies in one hand. Her other hand was placed gently on the shoulders of the boy hiding behind her legs. Your Mom, upon hearing the voice, came rushing out. The two fell into an easy conversation, introducing each other before she was led to where you were sitting.

“Honey, this is Eren. He’s our neighbor from across the street!”

The first thing you noticed about Eren was his eyes. They were big on his face, staring at you wide-eyed with a pair of beautiful, cerulean eyes. His thick brows were furrowed, his lips pulled into a frown.

“Hi, Eren.”

You two were inseparable from that moment.

The two of you held hands on the first day of preschool, wailing loudly whenever the teacher tried to separate you two. Throughout elementary school, the two of you always chased each other on the playground. When you moved onto middle school, the two of you still hung out in between classes, occupying the same lunch table as you laughed loudly with your new friends Armin and Mikasa. High school was no different, even with the throes of puberty.

Eren hit his growth spurt during Christmas break of sophomore year. He had gone to Turkey to visit his mother’s family, and when you finally saw him on the first day back your mouth went dry. Eren had always been lanky, never quite fitting into his average height. Now he was well over six feet, shoulders broader and arms bigger as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“How was your break?”

His voice had dropped two octaves, now a deep, sultry tone. You had swallowed nervously, trying to pat the top of his head awkwardly.

“I guess the puberty fairy finally hit you,” you had said nervously.

This change caused a shift in your friendship. The two of you remained close, but there was now a sort of . . . tension in the air. Everyone teased the two of you, always asking when you would finally get together. You had always brushed it off, rolling your eyes as you bumped shoulders with Eren.

“Me? Dating Eren? Gross.”

The reality was you had been in love with him since the day you had started puberty. It was such a stereotype, you knew, but the hormones that were suddenly flooding your body had your eyes opening wide to Eren Jaeger. He was suddenly your dream guy, every little thing he did always being scrutinized by you. When you started high school, everything was ramped up to one hundred. The time you two spent alone had you nervous, wondering if he would finally wake up and realize you were the one for him. Whenever his hands brushed against you when you were walking home, or when he wrapped his arm around you when it was cold, you felt your heart beating so fast you were afraid it would burst out of your chest.

The two of you had gone to Prom together because, well, who else would you two go with? When he had pulled you close, his hands placed gently on your waist, you had fought the urge to kiss him. Instead, you placed your head on his chest, turning your head to peer up at him.

“I’m really happy right now,” you had murmured.

He had smiled in response, nuzzling his face against the top of your head.

“Me too.”

When you both decided to attend the same college, you figured maybe now would be the time for Eren to reciprocate your feelings. Unbeknownst to you, Eren had been in love with you since the day you had met. He had remembered your shy face, staring at him as he had tried to hide behind his mother’s legs. The two of you had the same interests and had countless playdates together. He had loved chasing you in elementary school, watching your hair flow behind you as you ran away. During middle school, he had taken note of the small changes you were going through - your face thinning out, your hips widening, and your chest slowly growing. When he hit his growth spurt in high school, he had been satisfied to see the look of surprise on your face upon seeing him. On Prom night, holding you in his arms, he realized he wanted to be by your side forever. With college approaching, he wondered if it would be worth the risk to tell you about his true feelings. What if you didn’t feel the same? What if you met someone else?

To bury his feelings, Eren began dating in college. And he dated. Eren Jaeger was known throughout your campus as a notorious playboy. He and Armin were roommates, but the poor blond was often kicked out so Eren could fool around. You always offered your room to Armin since you were rooming with Mikasa. Your heart always broke upon hearing him complain about the “girl of the week” and how a new one would be showing up next. It wasn’t uncommon to see Eren making out with girls at the parties you attended, his arm always wrapped around them tight before they sauntered off to hook up. You always watched it happen with sad eyes, taking a long swig of your drink in an effort to forget.

The two of you had drifted apart, and you each blamed school. The reality was that you didn’t have the heart to face Eren, and he was ashamed to see you. Every girl he slept with just wasn’t you, and he feared that he was in too deep to confess his feelings to you. You weren’t sure what your reaction would be if he began talking about his latest conquest, so you avoided him.

Meanwhile you remained single. You threw yourself into your studies, determined to graduate at the top of your class and get some sort of internship related to your major. When you weren’t in class, you were at the library or in a study room in your dorm. Eren always casually asked Mikasa if you were seeing anyone, to which she always replied with a frown and the same question.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Eren didn’t want to know the answer.

The only time the two of you ever crossed paths consistently and talked was at parties. Eren was out every weekend, while you did once you got enough school work done. He wasn’t a lightweight per se, but he drank enough to the point that he was juuust drunk enough. When that happened he always stumbled over to you, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I miss you,” he would murmur. “We used to be so close.”

“Yeah,” you would reply. “I know.”

You would always pat his back awkwardly, which would just prompt him to pull you closer. Your heart would beat faster, his familiar smell engulfing you and making your throat constrict. He would kiss your forehead, pushing your hair back to smile goofily down at you.

“Why don’t we get out of here?”

Every single time, a part of you would give in, but the sane part of you always took over. You would shake your head, trying to take a step back.

“You’re drunk, Eren.”

“So? I know what I’m doing.”

You would flush at the double entendre.

“No, Eren, it’s okay.”

A flash of hurt would cross his face before he would disentangle himself from you and go find another girl instead. You would watch as he found a girl, making out with her before disappearing. You would take a long swig of your drink, heartbroken and desperate to forget.

Freshman year ended uneventfully, and sophomore year of college came around. You continued to room with Mikasa while Eren remained with Armin. He seemed to get slightly serious, spending more time hitting the books instead of on girls. He began accompanying you and Armin to study sessions, and the two of you began falling back into your old patterns. He would hold your backpack for you as you walked and always made sure to bring your favorite drink before going to the library. When you got cold from the library AC, he would remove his sweater and give it to you, wrapping an arm around you to try and warm you up.

Armin would watch in amusement, quirking an eyebrow at the two of you.

“Jeez, get a room already.”

The both of you would flush, stuttering out denials before looking away and refusing to look at each other again. Armin would chuckle, placing his study materials out before reminding you two to do the same.

Movie nights were the same. You and Eren always cuddled up together, leading Mikasa and Armin to ask if they should leave to give you two privacy. This resulted in pillows being thrown at their heads, which they always dodged with a laugh.

Eren wasn’t seen with as many girls, and he focused on hanging out with you and the rest of your friends instead. He wouldn’t get as drunk but maintained a good level where he could enjoy himself. On the few occasions where he did get drunk he continued his prior actions of hugging you tightly and asking to go home with him. You were always so close now to saying yes, yes please Eren, take me home, but it just didn’t feel right.

You felt as if there was some weird back and forth with Eren now. When asked about his dating life, he would shrug and say he simply wasn’t as interested anymore. His attention had seemed to shift to you, and you felt as if you were kids again. You relished in his touches, always leaning subconsciously into him. You looked forward to movie nights, cuddling tightly into his side and inhaling his scent. Sometimes his hands would find yours under the blanket, interlacing your fingers and not letting go for the entire movie.

You were falling in love with him all over again.

The only person you talked to about this was Mikasa. She urged you to just tell him already.

“You don’t see the way he looks at you!”

“I don’t know, Mikasa,” you had sighed. “What if I just misread everything?”

“Then the both of you are really stupid.”

First semester of sophomore year came to an end, and your second semester began. You were finishing up your general education classes and were beginning to take classes for your major, which was taking up more of your time. Mikasa made sure to take you out when your stress levels got too high, dragging you by the arm away from your desk and into your shared bathroom.

“Go take a shower and make yourself look hot!”

Parties were now a part of your social schedule, and your tolerance for alcohol was now greatly established. You enjoyed yourself, laughing with your friends as you played beer pong or danced together. Eren always made sure to cling close, his hands always on some part of your skin as the night went on.

Your conversation with Mikasa still echoed in your head. You don’t see the way he looks at you! Anytime you were with Eren, you tried to catch him looking at you from the corner of your eye. It was during a St. Patrick’s Day party that you finally realized what Mikasa had meant. Eren’s eyes immediately softened upon seeing you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he stared at you. It was like the world slowed down for him when he looked at you, and you realized you needed to tell him how you felt before it was too late.

You were dreading the conversation, and you began to distance yourself from Eren out of fear. He had noticed, always looking for you whenever you were out but you always managed to slip away. It was the last party before Spring Break when he finally managed to catch you.

The nights were cool, the last chill of Winter finally behind you. You were on the patio of Jean’s house, leaning against the railing as you took in the sight of the college town below you. Sighing, you pressed your cheek against your hand as the muffled sound of the party behind you rang on. The door slid open, and you figured someone was coming out to smoke.

“Hey.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. You slowly turned your head to see Eren standing there, his hands tucked deep into his pockets.

“Hi.”

He slowly walked up to you, coming to stand beside you and lean against the railing too. It was silent for a moment as you both drank in the night.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just needed a moment,” you said, giving him a fake smile.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Why would you say that?” you frowned.

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve just been busy,” you lied.

It was silent again, but you broke the silence this time.

“Are you okay? Why did you decide to come out?”

He hesitated before sighing, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck nervously.

“Um, I got into it with Hana. We’ve been trying to get back together, but it’s not going too well.”

You felt your heart shatter in your chest. Hana was the one girl that Eren seemed to always go back to, regardless of how many other girls he hooked up with. There was something about her that always drew him back, and you were usually told about the situation from him directly or through Armin.

“Is that right,” you mumbled.

“We’re not quite on the same page yet.”

Yet.

“Uh huh. Why do you think that is?”

You felt yourself going numb at your question. Damn you.

“Well, um, we’ve just been on and off for so long I don’t quite think we ever established what it is we wanted out of the relationship.”

“What do you want from her, Eren?”

He blinked, swiveling his head to look at you.

“What?”

“The question isn’t complicated.”

“I-I, I guess I don’t know.”

“So why are you wasting her time?”

He frowned, turning his body to face you.

“I like her. We get along really well. Sometimes I feel like I can’t stay away from her.”

Something snapped inside of you, and instead of confessing your feelings for him, the frustration of your will we won’t we relationship bubbled up to the surface.

“What the fuck are we doing, Eren?”

He began to blink rapidly, green eyes wide with confusion.

“What do you mean? We’re talking, I’m telling you about -”

“I don’t mean that,” you whispered. “I mean about us.”

The silence between you two was so thick you could cut it with a knife. He was at a loss for words, eyes slowly turning to look down at his feet. His silence spurred you on, hot, angry tears silently rolling down your face.

“I’ve been in love with you since the summer before sixth grade. I woke up one day and realized you are the only person I want to be with. I pined after you in middle school, and I hoped that things would change in high school.”

His gaze had lifted to meet your face, watching as more tears fell down your cheeks.

“I thought everyone teasing us would make you realize that I was the one for you. I waited for you to confess to me. When we went to Prom together, I almost confessed my love for you then. Instead, I chickened out and told you I was just happy. That was my way of confessing to you, Eren.”

He remained silent, letting you vent without interruptions.

“Then we came to college, and I lost you immediately. I lost you to all the girls you took to bed. It was like you weren’t the Eren I knew anymore. So I gave up. I threw myself into school and tried to forget you. But it was so hard when you were always making an effort to make out with them in front of me.”

Hurt immediately crossed his face at your words, but he continued to remain silent.

“But then you came back. It was like nothing had happened, and we were back like before college. I thought I finally had my chance. I even told Mikasa about this whole situation to see if this was all in my head. She encouraged me to confess to you, and I was going to soon.”

You stood up straight, sniffling as you angrily wiped at your tears.

“I can’t keep doing this anymore, Eren. I’m tired. My heart is tired. I have to either let you go or keep chasing after you, and I can’t do it anymore.”

Finally finished, you stared at him, your tears finally drying. Eren didn’t say anything, his face flickering through various emotions. You barked out a laugh, shaking your head as you pushed past him.

“Incredible. I’ve just opened my heart to you and you just don’t care. I should have known.”

“Wait -”

“It’s too late, Eren,” you said, voice flat. “Don’t bother coming after me.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond before going back into Jean’s house, squeezing through the throngs of party goers as you made your way outside to the front. The walk back to your dorm wasn’t too far, and it gave you time to clear your head and let the rest of your tears fall uninterrupted. You sobbed into your sleeve, shaking your head as Eren’s face as you had spoken playing repeatedly in your head.

By the time you got back to your dorm, you had dozens of missed calls and about fifty texts from Eren. You hadn’t bothered to open your texts, opting instead to leave him on delivered. His texts were all the same, asking you to call him back and apologizing for not saying anything to you sooner. You shut off your phone, crawling into bed and falling into a fitful sleep.

***

A week went by, but you refused to leave your bed.

Mikasa was worried about you, urging you to at least get up and eat a small meal, but you refused. You sent an email to your professors stating you were suffering from a stomach bug, and they insisted that you rest up and focus on your course work later. Most of the day was spent sleeping, only waking up to use the restroom and drink some water before going back to sleep. Mikasa begged Armin to stop by and try talking to you, but it made no difference. In between fits of sleep, you overheard them whispering whenever he stopped by about Eren and how he had “fucked up the whole situation”.

You had kept your phone off, knowing that Eren would keep trying to contact you. There had been one time where he had actually showed up at your door, but Mikasa had angrily sent him away.

“Haven’t you done enough damage?”

The following Sunday after the party, you finally pulled yourself out of bed. Mikasa had been out late, so she was asleep as you walked on shaky legs into the bathroom. You took a long, hot shower, taking your time to deep wash your hair and shave your entire body. The reflection in the mirror showed how hurt you looked, but you swore that you would never let anyone else break your heart the way that Eren had.

When you returned to your room, Mikasa was sitting up, rubbing her eyes as she let out a big yawn. She studied you silently for a minute before pulling you into a tight hug.

“I’ll treat us to breakfast. You should eat something small.”

She didn’t ask any questions while you ate, which you were thankful for. When you got back to your dorm, she braided your hair and pulled out her self-care kit. The day was spent pampering yourselves, and you felt ready and refreshed to throw yourself back into the semester.

You avoided parties on the weekends and opted to stay in watching Netflix. You were trying to do whatever you could to avoid Eren, and so far, you had been successful. When you weren’t studying, you were with Mikasa, Sasha, and Connie. Jean had begun hanging around, and the two of you began getting close. Eren had always started arguments whenever he was around Jean, so you had never been able to have a full conversation with him.

It didn’t take long before a spark developed between you two. He was funny, kind, and incredibly smart. The two of you began studying together, sitting quietly next to each other as you furiously poured over your work. He would treat you to dinner after, and the two of you spent the rest of the night laughing and creating inside jokes. His family came from the wealthier side of the town you had grown up in, but it meant that you would be able to see him once school was out.

The two of you officially began dating during Finals week. You were excited to spend the summer with him free of stress from school. Word got around quickly in your friend group, eventually getting to Eren. Things with Hana had quickly fallen apart, and he had spent the rest of the semester beating himself up for ruining things with you. He had tried to contact you non-stop, but Mikasa had told him it was for the best if he stopped.

“She’s moved on,” she had told him. “She’s left you behind.”

Upon hearing that you and Jean were together, Eren felt his heart break. He had been hoping the time apart would be healthy for you two, and he had hoped to try again with you at the start of junior year. Instead, he would have to settle with the fact that he had lost you forever.

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #eren jaeger #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager #eren yaeger imagine #eren yaeger x reader #modern au #college au #angst

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