#fic: best friend's best friend
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allskywalkerswhine · 1 year ago
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in fics where luke gets plopped into the prequels i want every jedi within ten metres of him to think hes the weirdest jedi theyve ever seen. he has negative lightsaber form. he doesnt know what a kata is. he handstands when he meditates. his solution to sith is to try and have a chat. hes a political radical who keeps suggesting revolution. you ask him what the jedi code is and he says "kindness and compassion and helping those in need :) ". you ask how he used the force like that and he says some shit about how you are a luminous being limited only by your mind. the councils authority is just a suggestion. he is somehow the new favourite of both qui gon and yoda
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skyrigel · 5 months ago
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Brother's best friend! Simon who's always so smitten and sweet to you. Bringing along sweets and snacks whenever he comes over.
Brother's best friend! Simon who casually tucks your hair back, asking you bout' your day and listening and doting on every word.
Brother's best friend! Simon who takes you for a ride on his motorcycle, buying you ribbons and scarfs.
Brother's best friend! Simon who would fight with your brother if has to, to make your wishes come true.
Brother's best friend! Simon who agrees with you when you say, you can date whoever you want until it's Joe from class B, and he's beaten to pulp the very next day.
Brother's best friend! Simon whom you share your first smoke with, coughing and laughing as he bumps your nose.
Brother's best friend! Simon who expects a kiss on cheek too, after you say bye to your brother and absolutely goes pink when you place a chaste wet kiss on his face.
Brother's best friend! Simon who takes you on prom along so you don't feel left out, kissing you sweetly so you know how it feels.
Brother's best friend! Simon who gives you a summer job in his garage, watching you grow into a bigger person.
Brother's best friend! Simon who likes watching you in your summer dress hopping around and helping him like a good girl when he asks for some tool.
Brother's best friend! Simon who spreads your leg on his desk, lowering his mouth while your eyes connect with his, melting into a puddle when his tongue swipes along your clit, humming with your sweet juices.
Brother's best friend! Simon who has your legs in his lap as your brother and his fiance go on about their first meet while your friends are laughing.
Brother's best friend! Simon who goes crimson when you catch the flower bouquet your sister in law tossed, kissing your forehead so proudly.
Brother's best friend! Simon buying you a car when you graduate, watching you proudly when you drive up to your new shared home, going absolutely crazy when the wall is decorated with a huge poster, WILL YOU MARRY ME MRS.RILEY !
Brother's best friend! Simon hugging you as you melt in his big arms, “That's not a question baby !” you half laughed and half sobbed, “I am gonna fire you if you say no.” he kissed your forehead delicately.
Brother's best friend! Simon who marries you with the twilight in his eyes, the same when you were sixteen, kissing you sweetly as fireworks go ablaze in your head.
Grim Reaper!Simon
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pearlessance · 5 months ago
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Our Little Secret
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Summary - Joel Miller deals with disgusting, intrusive thoughts about the girl next door who smells like vanilla and uses cherry chapstick.
Pairing - dbf!Joel Miller/Reader
Warnings - explicit sexual content MDNI, kinda perv!Joel, age gap, no cordyceps outbreak AU, reader's in high school but is eighteen, dom/sub undertones, seduction, underage drinking, body worship, unprotected sex, reader is called 'jailbait’ by Tommy, oral sex, breeding kink if you squint, praise & degradation
WC: 11k
[crossposted to AO3]
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Joel Miller told himself he wasn’t a pervert. He just wasn’t. Double glancing at a pretty, young girl didn’t make him one of those guys — it just made him a man, right?
Never mind the fact that your father was one of his closest friends or the fact that you lived just next door, embodying half of the very typical scandalous, small-town affair. Never mind your eighteen year age difference. Never mind those obscene images that sometimes invaded his brain. Joel had heard the term once. He thinks Sarah might have told him about it from that science documentary she watched—those sordid images were called intrusive thoughts, right? Involuntary, unavoidable, unwanted.
It wasn’t only him who stared in your direction a little longer than necessary, anyway. The very first time he’d seen you, Joel and Tommy had been in the driveway doing an oil change on the truck. You and your dad had just moved in, Joel had introduced himself the day prior and helped haul a bed frame through the front room. Your dad had mentioned he had a daughter, but Joel had expected to see a girl closer to Sarah’s age. 
He hadn’t expected to see you, wearing those tight blue jeans and that tiny tank top that left very little to the imagination. The straps were thin and the fabric billowy, and when you shifted the box beneath your arm from one hand to the other, the pretty pink fabric of your bra was out in the open for all eyes to see. Your hair had been pulled into a ponytail at the crown of your head, swishing back and forth with each step. It made Joel wonder about how soft the long strands were, how they would feel between his fingers, how they would look splayed out atop a pillowcase — intrusive thoughts.
Tommy was quick to abandon his tools and cross the front yard to greet your father, offering you what seemed like an innocent helping hand. Joel thinks his younger brother has no self control, but he leaves the truck too. Only to introduce himself, though. Definitely not to get a closer look. 
Your voice is sweet, he thinks. It slides through him like a hot knife through butter. And when you laugh at Tommy’s awkward attempt at conversation, that sound stabs him in the chest because it’s so girlish. So young and youthful and airy. That pink lace is still poking out of the side of your shirt, even though Tommy now carries the box, and Joel strains himself trying to keep his eyes above your chin. 
“And you must be Mr. Miller,” you say, sticking your tiny hand out to him.
He knows it’s a bad idea, but he doesn’t want to be rude, so he takes your hand in his and shakes it gently. Your skin is soft, nails painted red and manicured and he wonders what other parts of you are this soft, wonders if red has always been his favorite color, wonders what it would look like wrapped around — “Just Joel,” he tells you, clearing those damn intrusive thoughts as quickly as they appear. 
“Joel,” you repeat, tasting his name on your pink tongue and giving him a sweet smile. “There's two more boxes. Wanna help me grab them?”
He’s careful not to answer too fast, afraid of sounding too eager. But he agrees, and you lead him to the open truck bed, and as you bend over to grab the smaller box his hands flex at his sides. He thinks you must be doing this on purpose. Right? Torturing him, sticking your ass out, silently begging him to look. But he doesn't. Instead, Joel picks up the larger box and notices the scent of vanilla radiating off your skin. This is almost worse because his mouth begins to water. 
“My dad said you have a daughter,” you say. 
“Yeah. Sarah. She’s younger than you, though.”
“That’s okay. Does she like cake? I have to bake one for my home ec final and could use a taste tester if she’s not busy.”
It really puts things into perspective, and he’s glad for it. Finals. School. High school. “I’ll ask her,” Joel says. 
You lead everyone inside and direct all three men to take the boxes to the living room where you begin unpacking. You sit on the floor as you sift through the boxes, legs tucked underneath you, and Joel has to force a smile when you look up at him through your lashes. You say thank you, Joel from your knees and he feels something very, very wrong stir inside him. 
Tommy follows him back outside, and on the way back to their truck his voice is high pitched in mockery as he says, “Thank you, Joel! You’re so handsome , Joel! Let me repay you with my body, Joel!”
He just laughs it off, but as he continues with the oil change beneath the hood an uncomfortable silence settles between him. 
Eventually, Tommy shakes his head and snorts. “That girl is nothing but fucking jailbait, man.”
He sees you quite a few times after that, because your dad works in construction, too. Joel drinks the same kind of beer, and your dad has a pool table in your garage…so, naturally, they become the best of friends and very quickly at that. Tommy joins the party too, and within months they become an inseparable trio.
It’s during one of these nights when the three of them were standing in the garage with the door wide open, music playing from the speakers in your dad’s truck when those intrusive thoughts plague him again. Tommy’s losing at pool, drunk before the sun’s fully set, and your dad is laughing at something he’s saying.
You’re walking home from practice and stop suddenly at the end of the driveway. Joel can see you, but he doesn’t think Tommy or your dad can. The truck is in the way, but he’s in the perfect position. He stares a little too long, but he can’t help it. You’re wearing your cheer uniform, and your midriff is exposed, and your long legs are so fucking appetizing that his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth. Your skirt is rolled up at the waist, making the fabric shorter than it’s supposed to be, making it sluttier than it’s supposed to be.
When you notice him staring, you shoot him a sinful little smile and raise your finger to your lips. A secret, Joel realizes. You want him to keep something a secret, and somehow it feels intimate, having something between the two of you. He watches you unroll the hem of your skirt and pull at the ends so it covers more of your legs. You turn in a semicircle, and he licks his lips, and when you look at him again you raise your hands in question. 
He gives you a discreet thumbs up, and when you make your way up the driveway you give him the prettiest smile and say, “Hey, Joel! Nice to see you!”
Tommy gives him shit for it later, but he’s too distracted at the sight of you in that uniform to even remember Joel exists. 
“You’re late,” your dad chastises. “Practice was over at five today. It’s almost six.”
“Took the scenic route,” you reply easily, and Joel can hear the playful tone in your voice that lets everyone in the room know of your insincerity. 
You walk past them, backpack slung over one arm, but before you disappear inside you wink at him over your shoulder. 
“Get ready, Joel,” your dad tells him with an exasperated sigh. “Teenage girls are hell.”
And Joel is inclined to agree. Even more so when he’s laying in bed that night, wondering about all the things you could’ve been getting up to in that hour it took you to get home. The school was a short, ten minute walk from your house. And even if you truly did take the scenic route home, it wouldn’t have taken you an entire hour to arrive. 
So, what were you getting up to? Joel didn’t think you had a boyfriend. At least, not one you ever brought home. But not having a boyfriend didn’t mean anything. Not in this day and age. And Joel knew the mind of a teenage boy. He had been one, once upon a time, and knew without a doubt the lengths a boy your age would go to spend an hour alone with you. He thought about all of the things he was doing at eighteen, and his brain ran wild with those ideas.
After hours of laying there, unable to find sleep, Joel Miller took out his phone and opened a private search tab. It had been a long time since he’d done this, and he’d tried not to — truly, he had spent every minute since he’d closed his bedroom door trying to get the images out of his head. But it was like an itch he needed to scratch, becoming more and more irritating the longer he put it off. So, he typed cheerleader into the black and orange search bar and promised himself it was the one and only time he’d ever do this. 
He just needed to get it out of his system. That was all.
(If he was honest, Joel knew as soon as the thought crossed his mind that it wasn’t true. Even when he scrolled through the videos to find a girl who looked strikingly similar to you. Even when he turned his volume all the way down, and reached into his sweatpants with his free hand. Even when he squeezed his eyes shut and thought of that rolled up skirt and that pretty pink lace, pornographic images long forgotten in favor of the ones you’d supplied. Even when a few quick tugs was all it took to shoot thick ropes of cum across his belly. Even when he cleared his search history, cleaned himself up, and rolled over to sleep…even then, he knew it would not be enough to get you out of his head.)
The next day, Joel saw you leaving for school and couldn’t bear to look in your eyes. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d done and feeling shameful, feeling like the very sordid man he knew himself not to be. He wasn’t a pervert, but he’d certainly felt like one that day.
You waved your hand and beamed like you did every morning. But Joel didn’t wave back. Oblivious to his atrocities, you played your hand at concern. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
“You don’t… seem fine. Is there anything I can do to help?”
God—your voice, full of kindness and sweet summery grace, was better than the audio in any porno he’d ever seen. “I said I’m fine.”
Thankfully, you took the hint and scurried off, not dissimilar to a wounded animal. Guilt immediately choked him. But, pushing you away is what he’s supposed to do. So he doesn’t change his mind. 
At least, not at first.
He spends the entire summer going out of his way to avoid you. He offered to host guys nights at his house on the weekends instead of your dad's garage. He left for work five minutes earlier than normal to avoid having to hear you say good morning, Joel! and wave at him with those pretty red nails and smile at him with your pretty white teeth.
But once summer starts, you and Sarah begin spending way too much time together. And at first, it makes him nervous. You make him nervous. He doesn’t want to make small talk. He doesn't want to see you in your uniform. He doesn’t want to look at you at all, actually.
It works out in his favor though, Joel thinks, because you and Sarah have the same taste in movies, and she thinks you're the coolest thing that’s ever existed, and so whenever Joel and Tommy are in your garage, you’re at Joel’s house with Sarah. So he doesn’t have to be on edge, wondering if he’d turn the corner and you’d be standing there smelling like vanilla and wearing pink lace. 
But then you’re hosting a high school graduation party a few short months after you move in. And your dad invites Joel and Tommy to the party in your backyard. In fact, he practically begs them to come and keep him company. And Joel can’t say no, because what excuse would he have? Sarah would never let him skip it, anyway. And so his avoidance comes to an end, and he finds himself standing in your backyard with a glass bottle in his hands, watching people congratulate you and your accomplishments all day long. Straight A’s in all those AP classes you took, your dad tells him proudly, clicking his tongs together over the grill. Joel knows you’re a smart girl, he doesn’t need to know your grades to see that you have your head on straight, but he also knows you’re a far cry from the timid little girl your father believes you to be. Joel can see it in you. 
Still, you’re far smarter than he is, because while Tommy drones on and on about a project he’s got going on at home, all Joel can notice is the pretty sundress you’re wearing. It’s pink, like the lace that sometimes still haunts him. It clings to you at the top, molding sinfully against your chest, and flows out at the bottom, cutting off at your midthigh.
It’s too short, Joel thinks. Way too short to be wearing around so many male classmates. Around your dad’s friends. Tommy likes younger girls, you know. And Joel…Joel’s turning away from you and swallowing what’s left of his beer. He clinks the empty glass against Tommy’s and asks, “You need another?”
Your dad is the one who answers. “How about a shot of whiskey? The cabinet above the sink.”
Joel thinks it's a fantastic idea. He gets stopped by Mr. Adler on the way inside, who asks what the celebration is. He talks for far longer than he’d like, and by the time he gets to the kitchen, Joel really needs something stronger than beer. 
Except, when he steps into the room, he freezes the moment he sees you standing there. Your head whips in his direction, eyes wide as if you’ve been caught. It’s only as he tears his attention away from you and notices the two red solo cups on the counter and the bottle of tequila in your hands, perched over them, that he realizes what he’d just walked in on. 
Your cheeks are pink, the same hue as your dress, and you quickly try to explain it away. “Joel! Hey! This isn’t…I’m not like—you know, it’s just a celebration and…I’ll be nineteen soon and—I mean, it’s just a little .”
He raises his eyebrows, unsure of how to navigate this terrain. On the one hand, he feels the need to discipline you somehow. To turn this into a lesson of sorts, to let you know how the age of legal alcohol consumption is twenty one for a reason, that being drunk in a social setting like this is dangerous, especially for a girl like you.
But on the other hand, Joel knows he’s not responsible for you. He’s not your father, and he’s not going to be the one to give you the speech about underage drinking. He’d been far younger than eighteen-almost-nineteen the first time he’d gotten drunk. And you were right…this was a celebration. 
The war in his brain seemed to dim what little common sense he had because Joel found himself standing behind you with almost no room to spare. The sweet scent of vanilla filled the space. You’d curled your hair, and the ends tickled the inside of his arm. Soft. So, so soft he could die. He puts his big hand on your bare shoulder, and reaches above you into the cabinet, finding the half empty bottle of whiskey. His fingers twitch with the urge to squeeze your supple flesh. Christ. It’s just a fucking shoulder, Joel, he tells himself. “It’s your party,” he says. “I won’t tell.”
It feels wrong just to say it to you. I won’t tell. Perverted thing to say, Joel thinks. You spin around to face him, and suddenly your breasts are brushing his chest, and Joel can’t breathe. “Thank you,” you whisper, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and sending him into his fucking grave. 
It’s then, as he stares down at you and you stare up at him all sweet and innocent-like, that Joel finally admits to himself that avoidance has done absolutely fucking nothing to put out the fire you started. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah—it’s, uhm…it’s no problem. Have fun.”
He turns to leave, but then your arms are around his neck and he can’t smell anything but vanilla and he can feel your tits pressing into him, can feel you everywhere. But Joel isn’t a mean man, so what can he do but hug you back? If someone walked in, they’d think it was a fatherly embrace. Proud. Protective, even. 
But they wouldn’t know that all Joel could think about is the way your skin felt under his calloused hands. Or the way your soft hair tickled his cheek as he laid it against the top of your head. Or the way your hips were nestled right between his thighs—and you were so warm and—
Intrusive thoughts.
“You’re the best, Joel,” you say, eyes bright and cheery. He’s relieved when you pull away, but also a little bit empty. He watches you pour a shot into each red solo cup. “You know, I’ve never tried whiskey. It seems so, like… manly .” You giggle, and it’s music to his ears but Joel begins to wonder if maybe this isn’t your first time stealing from the tequila bottle tonight. 
“It’s definitely not the best tasting thing in the world,” he says. “Gets the job done, though.”
To put the tequila away, you have to stand on the tips of your toes. It elongates your entire body as you stretch upwards, and he can’t bring himself to stop staring at the curve of your hips. “You have to be drunk to hang out with me or something?”
The question surprises him. Yes, he thinks. Yes, he does need to be inebriated to hang out with you because otherwise his sober mind never lets him forget the way you look all dolled up. But he doesn’t say that. Instead, Joel laughs quietly and says, “I’m here for your old man. You think he wants to be the lone adult in this sea of kids?”
He says it as a joke and is thankful you find humor in it. “I’m not a kid, Joel,” you remind him. “I’m a woman now. Is my company really so bad?” You tilt your head, pushing your bottom lip into the tiniest little pout. 
Joel needs to stop staring at your mouth. He knows it, because the urge rises in him to bite that lip, to surge forward and taste your tongue for remnants of tequila. The idea alone sends a bolt of white-hot desire straight to his dick. “No, no…s’not like that,” he says. He’s too focused on your face and the gleam in your pretty eyes to notice you’ve unscrewed the top of the whiskey bottle. 
You pour a shot into an empty solo cup and hold it up between the two of you. “I’m scared,” you admit sheepishly. “Is it gross?”
The wrinkle in your nose is the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and the sight forces his lips into a small smile. “I don’t think so,” he says. “But you might.”
“Because I’m a kid ?” You scoff, but shake your head and smile at him all the same. “Women mature faster than men, you know. Which means when I make my decisions, I know what I’m signing myself up for.” 
“Oh, is that so?” He remembers being this cocky as a teenager. He thinks maybe you’ve been spending too much time around Tommy and his defiant attitude is rubbing off on you. Joel offers a challenge—if you’re just so mature. “Drink up, then.”
He watches every microscopic movement as you lick your lips and lift the cup to your mouth. It’s a beautiful sight, watching you tilt your head back and swallow the tiniest bit. And when you pass the remaining liquid to him, your expression is fashioned from steel. Nonchalant, blank. 
But he sees it, sees the way your hands twitch at your sides, sees the way your jaw feathers as you clench your teeth. He can’t help but chuckle at your persistence. Joel turns the cup in his hands and puts his mouth right where you did. 
It’s almost like kissing, he thinks. Having his mouth where yours was seconds ago feels good. Better than he thought it would. And he can taste cherry-flavored chapstick before he can taste the whiskey, and he wonders when the last time was when he’d had a shot because it goes straight to his head and makes him feel drunk. Or maybe it’s just the wide smile that stretches across your face. 
“That’s awful,” you confess. “I’ll stick to tequila, I think.”
“Tequila’s worse,” he says with a shake of his head. Tequila makes Joel feel your age, makes him forget the word consequences, makes him buzz with energy. 
“No way,” you say. “The taste isn’t nearly as strong.”
While that may be true, it wasn’t about the taste at all and he doesn’t really know how to explain it. “Tequila encourages people to make bad decisions.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “Bad decisions,” you echo contemplatively. “Sounds like a great time.” You take both of your tequila filled cups in hand and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for always keeping my secrets,” you whisper. 
Joel has to stand in the kitchen an extra few minutes after you leave because he still feels the ghost of your lips on his skin and doesn’t know how to act. Eventually, though, he finds the courage to face his brother and your father. He stays for the remainder of the party and helps your dad clean up the yard after everyone filters out. 
It’s a relief when he’s finally in his own bed that night. He tries to resist thinking of you. Truly, he does — but it’s no use, and he’s alone in his bed, and this time he doesn’t even reach for his phone when he touches himself. 
And it’s good. So good that he tries to draw it out. He tries his damndest to make it last. But his efforts become futile in just minutes, because he can feel your soft lips, can taste cherry chapstick, and he’s right there—right fucking there—when his bedroom door creaks open. 
“Joel?”
For a second, he’s convinced himself he’s gone crazy. He’s well and truly lost it now, and his fantasies have grown into hallucinations at this point. You’ve driven him batshit insane. But his eyes focus in the dark, and he realizes his mind isn’t playing tricks on him at all. “What are you doing here?”
You take it as an invitation, and he desperately wishes you wouldn’t. He can still feel the buzz from the beer and whiskey, and his cock is hard beneath the sheets, and his brain is filled with images of you, and you’re in nothing but spandex shorts and a loose tank top, and when you sit on the side of his bed you lay your hand on his knee for balance and Joel’s hands shake. 
“How did you even get in?”
“I used the key under the mat,” you confess. “I need your help.” Your voice is so mousy and soft, and it pulls him back to his senses. 
“What’s wrong?”
“You were right,” you tell him. “I made a bad tequila decision and now I’m sad.” 
Joel doesn’t know what to say. You couldn’t possibly still be tipsy, he thinks. It’s been hours since he saw you in the kitchen, but he supposes you very well could’ve gone back after everyone left. Either way, you’d come to him to fix it, and even knowing the right thing would be to call your dad, he was still high on the second secret you two shared. So, Joel sighs and puts his hand on yours. “What did you do?”
“I snuck a boy into my room,” you say.
Joel’s jaw clenches. Anger rises in his chest, crawls up his throat, and chokes him. A million things cross his mind—first, what the hell did he do to you? Did he hurt you? Joel would find the boy and break his fucking jaw. Did he touch you? Maybe he’d break the boy's hands instead. Or, worse, did he touch you when you didn’t want him to? The thought alone has his heart beating so fast he thinks he might die. Slowly, quietly, he asks, “What happened?”
“Nothing,” you sigh. And it isn’t one of those teenage girl nothings, it’s sincere. You climb over him to the other side of the mattress, and Joel thinks he should stop you but the sight of you in his bed is so fucking pretty that he can’t bring himself to. “That’s the problem. I wanted him to fuck me.”
The words give him pause. Everything freezes. 
“But he didn’t want to,” you say. “Even though we were flirting all day.” You turn on your side, hands beneath your head. “I don’t get it. Is it because I’m not pretty?”
He can’t stop the snort that leaves him at that. Joel can’t believe you’d wonder about it for even a second.
“Do you think I’m pretty, Joel?”
If there’s anything in the world he hates, it’s this. He wonders a little if maybe you’re antagonizing him. It’s a yes or no question, isn’t it? So why does saying yes feel so… heavy? Weighted? He decides it best to keep the conversation directed away from his personal opinion on the matter. “Of course you’re pretty, baby.”
Baby? God. Maybe he has lost his fucking mind.
But it seems to bring you so much joy he doesn’t have it in him to regret it. You wrap your small hands around his bicep, and he can feel the heat in your touch, and it’s like he’s burning from the inside out. And when you turn a little more and bring your leg across his hips, Joel can’t breathe. 
He wonders if you can tell how hard he is, wonders how he’s supposed to push you away when you just keep withering away his resolve. If he hasn’t lost his mind yet, he’s about to. “Is it okay if I sleep with you tonight?”
The words hit him like a freight train. But after a second, he realizes that you actually mean sleep —and he knows it’s a bad idea still because he’s having those intrusive thoughts once more. But he can’t say no. So instead he says, “I don’t think your dad would be comfortable with that.”
“I’ll tell him I had a sleepover with Sarah,” you quickly supplied. “I don’t want to be alone.”
He doesn’t either. But Joel knows he should be. And if not alone, certainly not with you. And yet, he says nothing. Not yes or no, just nothing. 
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure.”
“I think about you all the time,” you say. “I thought you were mad at me for a while. That made me sad, too.”
It made his chest ache to think he had caused you any harm. But it was for the best, wasn’t it? You probably just saw him as someone to seek comfort in, and he saw you as something entirely different. He was no good. Definitely not for you. 
A few minutes pass, and he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you kiss his cheek again in the same spot as this afternoon and say, “Thank you, Joel.” And he feels so wrong. He feels awful, and selfish, and greedy, and desperate, and perverted.
He thinks that’s the end of it. But then you kiss his jaw, and this time it’s an open mouthed kiss that leaves wetness on his skin. Joel shivers. 
You kiss his neck, and his cock throbs inches from your thigh. He should stop this. He knows that. Joel isn’t a stupid man—he’s just a bad man. He doesn’t stop you when you climb into his lap. He doesn’t stop you when your tongue darts out between your lips as you kiss his collarbone. He doesn’t stop you when your kisses grow heated and heavy.
And when you kiss his lips, he doesn’t stop himself from kissing you back. He doesn’t stop himself from threading his fingers through your silky hair to pull you in deeper. He doesn’t stop himself from biting that bottom lip and sucking off the cherry flavor. He doesn’t stop himself from slipping his tongue into your mouth, or from lifting his hips just a little bit, pushing himself against you. The friction pulls a low groan from somewhere in the back of his throat, and Joel knows he won't be able to ever stop himself now. 
You take the small movement as your cue to unleash yourself and roll your hips against his even harder. He can feel the wet heat radiating from you even through the spandex shorts, can feel his benevolence fading into the ether. You let out a breathless moan when you roll your hips again, and again, and again. And he curses, muscles tight, and feels a confession on the tip of his tongue. Joel wants you to say it, just once — wants to hear his name in your mouth shrouded in lust. He’s imagined it so many times, but he wants to hear it. 
But then you pull away abruptly. “Joel?”
You sound mousy again, and he feels suddenly ice cold. “Yeah?”
“I think I’m gonna be sick.”
He holds your hair away from your face for the remainder of the night as you vomit up the rest of the tequila in your stomach. You apologize over and over again and greedily drink up the water he brings you. 
Normally, Joel would hate this. But it’s you, and something feels good about taking care of you. About making sure you’re safe, making sure you feel pretty even with sweat coating your pallid skin.
You fall asleep sometime in the middle of the night, and Joel carries you to his bed. He doesn’t climb in next to you. He can’t because he already feels bad enough for allowing a drunk eighteen year old girl into his bed. It’s his turn to feel nauseous. Shame smothers him, and guilt, and mortification…Joel knows he should feel regret, too. But he doesn’t. 
Sometime before sunrise, he nods off with his head resting against the bedside table. He doesn’t hear you leave, but when he wakes an hour later you’ve vacated the room. 
He wonders if you remember how you ended up in his bed, if you remember how eager he was to taste your mouth, if you remember anything at all. He hopes not, because that would mean a conversation he was not equipped to handle. 
When he trudges down to the kitchen, Joel stops upon the sight before him. Sarah sits at the kitchen table beside Tommy, who’s sitting across from your dad. And then there’s you—standing in the kitchen with a spatula in your hand and two still-wet braids in your hair.
It isn’t the fact that you’re in his kitchen, making pancakes for everyone, padding barefoot on the tile that makes him anxious. No one in the room can read his thoughts. They wouldn’t know how much it pleases him to see it. They wouldn’t know how he thinks he could get used to this, but knows he can’t.
No…no, it’s the fact that you’re wearing his flannel that makes him anxious. Your father wears flannels on occasion…but this one is so plainly Joel’s that he wonders why your dad is sitting there laughing at something Sarah said instead of killing Joel with his bare hands. He swallows thickly and pours himself a cup of coffee. 
“Good morning,” you say cheerily, as if last night hadn’t happened. He thinks you’ve forgotten, or maybe just decided not to ever mention it again.
It was only a lapse in judgment, after all, wasn’t it? Just a split second where you and Joel both lost all sense. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t. “Morning,” he responds. 
You ask him to help carry one of the heaping plates of fluffy pancakes to the table. When he reaches for the taller one, your hand brushes against his and Joel nearly jumps out of his skin at the contact. But then you’re holding your pinky out to him expectantly, and whisper, “Our little secret.” 
The vanilla scent is gone, Joel notices. You smell like irish spring instead. Realization dawns on him that you must have showered while he was asleep— and used his body wash. There’s something about that little tidbit of information that sits with him. He likes it, he thinks. He likes smelling himself all over you, likes that something possessed you to use his things without asking. Something inside of him shifts, something… intense. 
He knows he shouldn’t, but Joel winds his pinky finger around yours anyway. It feels so good to have yet another thing between the two of you. Something of yours that belongs only to him. It makes him feel giddy as if he wasn’t running on a single sip of coffee and an hour of sleep.
The remainder of the summer goes on without incident. You don’t end up in Joel’s bed again, though you never once leave his intrusive thoughts. He sees you sometimes, tanning in the backyard. He has a perfect view from his bedroom window, and he wonders if maybe you wear those tiny bikini tops for his benefit. But he never asks, even during the few moments you have alone, and is content to pine after you but not touch for the rest of his painfully sorry life. 
He works. You taunt him. He plays pool in your garage. You come home late in too little clothes and smelling of vanilla scented tequila. Joel says nothing, though. He listens and agrees with your dad that since graduating you’ve become a little wild . A little… defiant. They dance around the word bad, but Joel knows the truth. Knows that more than anything, you need a little bit of discipline. 
You’re not his to correct, though. So he doesn’t. He certainly enjoys watching you, however. He watches you sneak out through your window one night when he’s sitting on the porch. You press your finger to your lips, creating another secret between the two of you. He walks into the kitchen one night to find you filling a vodka bottle with water. Joel says nothing—but after grabbing another beer he’s got a smile on his lips he can’t seem to shake. 
He’s mowing the grass in the backyard one sunny afternoon, and he catches a glimpse of something he shouldn’t. Joel holds a lot of your secrets close these days, but this one is…different. 
Through your bedroom window, he can see you changing. The curtain is wide open, and you’re wearing nothing but that same pink bra he first saw you in, matching panties, and those knee high socks you used to wear with your cheer uniform. He’s not sure if you’re getting out of your clothes or into ones more comfortable, but he knows he can’t look away. His mouth is dry, and all the blood in his head rushes south. He thinks you’re beautiful. He wants to touch you so badly it’s overwhelming. The supple curves of your hips, the soft tendrils of your hair down your back, the swell of your breasts— God, you’re the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. 
And then you pick something up from the floor, and Joel realizes a second later that you’re putting on his flannel. The one you stole at the beginning of the summer. Do you wear it often? Do you always wear it alone, half naked in your bedroom? His lips part and his breath catches in his throat. He’s not there. He’s just standing in his backyard, ruining this patch of grass…but a part of him is. Something��of his is there, with you, touching you, and somehow it sets him on fire. 
Especially when he watches you climb into bed. He won’t watch you sleep, he decides. He might have intrusive thoughts and secrets and uncontrollable fantasies, but he’s not a creep. 
Except you don’t go to sleep, so Joel continues to watch. He watches you run red painted fingers over your bare skin, between your breasts, over your belly, and back up. You do it again, slower this time, and Joel’s cock strains in his jeans. He watches you slip your hand beneath the band of your panties. He can’t see any details from this far away, but his breathing synchronizes with the speed of your fingers.
Suddenly, he remembers you’re still in his flannel. Realizes that you put it on to touch yourself. Pressure builds in his cock, and he finally admits that yeah— maybe he’s a little bit of a perv. But only for you—there’s something about you that drives him fucking insane. 
He stands there and watches you touch yourself until you finish. He revels in the small arch of your back, in the tremble of your legs, in the way your chest heaves with each ragged breath on the come down. He wants to clean you up with his fucking tongue. 
Joel doesn’t finish mowing the lawn that night.
When you go off to college, he can’t deny what a massive relief it is. You move across Texas to some campus far away, and the distance makes him feel like he can breathe easily again. He stops having so many disgusting, intrusive thoughts. He stops feeling guilty every time he plays pool with your dad because those secrets he kept for you were ones that don’t truly matter. Not when you’re nowhere to be found, anyway. 
As the year stretches on, Joel realizes that he’d been wrong all along. He wasn’t a pervert. You are a seductress. Even Tommy jokes about the obvious schoolgirl crush you had and admits one night when it’s just the two brothers that if you had thrown yourself at him, he wouldn’t have been able to resist you so easily as Joel had.
It’s not him that’s in the wrong. It’s you. You and your soft hair. You and your pretty smile. You and your red nails. You and your pink lace. You and your soft voice. You, you, you. 
For several years, those intrusive thoughts haven't plagued him. Not until your junior year of college, when some problem with campus housing surfaces and you’re forced to stay at home for a few days. Your dad is excited about it and forces the four of you to go out to dinner together to catch up. 
He sees you for the first time in so long, and you look so different but somehow even prettier. You’re wearing a short white dress, and Sarah tells you you look like an angel, and Joel silently agrees. You have a tattoo on the inside of your wrist. It’s the tiniest little image of two hands with their pinkies wrapped around one another, and he thinks it’s so fitting for a girl with so many secrets. 
Every time you look at him during dinner, Joel shifts in his seat. He isn’t very hungry. Not for food, anyway. He’s a little floored when you proudly present your shiny, brand new ID to the waitress and order a fruity pink drink called a Paloma. You explain that it has tequila in it, and share a subtle glance across the table, and Joel feels his insides warm as if he was the one drinking a cocktail instead. 
He drowns himself in work the entire week. He cannot— cannot afford to find himself back in his old ways. You’re a woman now. A fully grown woman, who no longer needs validation from older men. He knows you're not interested. He knows this time, this time, it really is Joel who’s the problem. Avoidance, surprisingly, works. 
Until you knock on the door one night with a DVD in your hand. “Is Sarah home? I found my old copy of Evil Dead. She said she missed having movie nights.”
Joel shakes his head. “No, uhm—she spent the night with a friend. Sorry.”
“Oh,” you deflate. “That’s okay, I get it. She’s older now. It’s…”
“Weird,” he finishes. 
You laugh softly, and the sound brings a smile to his face. “Yeah, really weird,” you agree. “I just hope she’s nothing like me.”
“Why’s that?” Your eyes darken, and Joel asks himself why he’s attempting to make conversation at all. It’s dangerous. He knows this. 
“You know,” you say purposefully. “All those secrets? There were definitely more.”
For a reason he can’t pinpoint, it makes him a little annoyed. He knew it the whole time—of course,  he knew there were more secrets than just the ones he was privy to. But a part of him wanted to know you better than anyone else. And maybe he did, for a second, but that second was long gone now. It was probably over moments after it began. “Yeah, well…that’s different.”
“How so? She’s only a little younger than I was when I met you.”
It’s an accusation. Joel can feel it. He can feel the anger seeping through your fake sweetness, too. But he doesn’t understand it. He didn’t do anything wrong. “You’re not my daughter. That’s what’s different.”
You roll your eyes, and his hands twitch with the urge to grab you by the jaw. “God, Joel—you’re such a pussy. Do you know that?”
Your words startle him. A crease forms between his brows, and he takes another step out of the doorway. “ Excuse me ?”
“Just say it! Say what you so desperately want to say. I can take it. Say it.”
The words come out slow and deadly, sounding far meaner than intended. “Say what?” 
“Tell me it’s different because I’m a slut. It’s okay, Joel. It’s just the two of us now. Go ahead. Admit it.”
His jaw ticks. 
“What, you think I’m dumb? You think I don’t hear you laugh at Tommy’s jokes when I walk out of a room? You think I didn’t know you guys called me jailbait for years?” You laugh cynically, arms crossed over your chest, and Joel thinks he’s never seen you so angry. So heated. 
So hot.
He grabs your elbow and yanks you close. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
Your face is inches from his, and he can smell vanilla and cherry and something happens. Something familiar and unique to you. Something disgusting. “And you know what the worst part of it all is?”
The worst part is that he’s twice your age. The worst part is that he’s known you since you were in high school. The worst part is that he’s friends with your father. The worst part is that you’re friends with his daughter. The worst part is that those perverted thoughts were never involuntary. They were never unavoidable. They were never unwanted. They were never intrusive. 
“You like it,” you say with a smirk. “You like that I dress up in short skirts for you, and you like it when I climb in your bed when someone else leaves me unsatisfied. I almost finished that day, did you know?”
“ Jesus—fuck —don’t—”
“You barely touched me but I was so close just sitting in your lap. You like that I put on your clothes and touch myself in front of my window, hoping you’ll see. You like that I’m a slut for you, Joel Miller. Admit it. It’s okay. It’ll be our little secret .”
He pulls you into the house and slams the front door closed. His blood boils beneath his skin. He should have slammed it in your face, he thinks. But you’re here now—trapped inside with him. Or maybe he’s trapped inside with you. 
The pleased smile on your face is his undoing. His breath comes fast, and he knows if he moves an inch there will never be any going back from this. So he doesn’t move. His limbs are frozen and his eyes are fixed on yours.
After a couple of tense filled seconds, your smile falters. Joel sees it. He hears the slight change in your voice too, as you confess, “I want you to touch me so badly.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck —Joel holds your face in his hands and slams his mouth to yours. You taste just the same; cherry sweet and delicious. It’s his favorite flavor, he thinks. Better than any forbidden fruit. Your tongue is so soft against his and impossibly more greedy. You invade his mouth, his soul, his heart. 
It happens so fast, and so easily. Your arms loop around his neck and Joel pulls you flush against him and grips the back of your thighs. He lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, hips already rolling against him like some feral thing inside of you is desperately clawing to get out. His cock has never been this hard, Joel knows. And he knows—he knows that he could cum just like this. Touching you, tasting you, feeling your softness. It’s enough. 
Still, he wants more. He wants to see you fall apart. He wants to reach inside your chest and make you feel what he feels, make you feel tortured the way he’s been for years. 
Joel walks to the sofa and sits with his legs spread wide. You’re still kissing him with everything you have, and it’s a clash of tongues and lips and teeth that he loves so much it’s an effort to thread his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck and pull you away, but he does it. You’re both panting, and you let out a whimper at the loss of contact. His cock is throbbing, straining behind his jeans. “Put your money where your mouth is, baby,” he says breathlessly. “You wanna act like a slut for me, be a slut for me.”
He fists your dress in his hands and pulls it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. And then it’s just you, sitting in Joel’s lap, wearing nothing but pink, lace panties and a pair of strappy white heels. You’re so pretty, and he’s always known it—but seeing you up close has him weak. He can’t keep himself from touching you, from running his hands over your hips and living the fantasy he’s existed in for what feels like forever. 
Once he starts, Joel can’t stop. He runs his calloused palms over your belly, your ribs, allowing his thumbs to ghost across the underside of your breasts. He moves slowly, meticulously, enjoying every moment. And when you hook your thumbs in the band of your panties with the intention to remove them, he places his hands over yours. “Hell no,” he says. “You think you can tell me you almost finished in my lap that night and get away with it?” 
“But, I—”
“Nuh-uh. Prove it.”
Hesitantly, you tilt your hips against his. He wishes he was in only sweatpants the way he was that night because his jeans are keeping the feeling of your wetness away from him this time. But he can see it—the baby pink fabric is darker at the apex, and as you grind your hips against his Joel realizes you’re creating a mess on his clothes, too. 
He understands. He really, really does. He feels it, too. Joel understands how desperate and needy you are. And because he’s just so understanding, he grants you a little reprieve. He leans forward and takes your nipple into his mouth. He’s real sweet about it too, giving you the same tender treatment your mouth gave him that night in his room. He licks the hardened peak softly, swirling his tongue, and you let out the prettiest moan he’s ever heard. The pace of your hips picks up, rolling against the bulge in his jeans faster. 
“Oh, god,” you whimper. Your breath catches, and he can hear your heart beating rapidly behind your ribcage. He peppers kisses across your sternum and inhales deeply, sucking in a breath that’s nothing but you and holding it in his lungs. He kisses your other nipple and pinches the one wet with his spit between his thumb and forefinger. 
He sucks your nipple into his mouth and groans when you fist your hands in his hair. You sound so pretty, he thinks—and he leans back on the couch to admire just how pretty you look. He can’t catch his breath, but he doesn’t mind.
Your pace falters the slightest bit, and your chest is heaving a little slower now. He sinks lower into the couch and thrusts his hips up into you—once, twice, and your legs are shaking. “Aww,” he coos. “You’re so sensitive, baby. Look at you.”
Too lost in your own bliss, Joel decides to help you, to teach you. He grabs your chin and forces it down, forces your attention to where your bodies are joined.
“I told you to look,” he repeats. Joel turns his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulls them taught, creating even more pressure against your clit. The pink fabric immediately becomes darker, sopping up some of the mess you’ve created on top of him, and Joel intends to make good on his wish to clean you up with his tongue. But not yet—not when you still have something to prove. “You gonna cum just like that? Hm?”
You nod frantically, your attention flickering between his dark eyes and your panties clutched between his thick fingers. “ Yes,” you tell him, legs trembling. Your pace is quick, and each roll of your hips becomes shorter and shorter. And with Joel moving underneath you it only takes seconds more before you combust. “Oh, fuck—fuck—I’m coming, I’m coming—!”
“That’s it,” he says, and you feel the deep timbre of his voice skitter across your skin like embers. “There you go. You’re being such a good slut for me, hm?”
When your orgasm finally fizzles out, you fall limply forward and Joel is there to catch you, like he always has been, like he silently vows he always will be. He rubs soothing circles against your spine and presses sweet kisses into your hair, waiting patiently as you try and regain what little composure you have left. 
You lift your head from the crook of his neck, and your eyes are glossy and your bottom lip is swollen and your cheeks are flushed with a rosy hue, and Joel thinks you’ve never been more beautiful. But then you slide from his lap to the floor in one fluid movement, and he realizes that this is the prettiest you’ve ever been; on your knees before him, eyes bright with anticipation and excitement. You place your hands on top of his strong thighs, look up at him through your lashes and ask softly, “Can I suck your dick, Joel?”
He has to squeeze his eyes shut. He has to because his cock is so fucking hard and your voice is so sweet and filthy he can’t handle it. He breathes in slowly through his nose and says, “Of course you can, baby.”
Without a moment's hesitation, you unbuckle his belt. The metal clinks in your fingers, and Joel’s heart is racing when you unbutton his jeans and hook your thumbs through the loops to tug them down. His cock snaps against his belly, and you lick your pink lips.
You take it in your hands, and Joel aches when you swipe your tongue over the tip, tasting the salty sweetness of his precum. He can’t believe this is really happening, that you’re really here, running your sweet, sweet tongue over every inch of his cock. You’re tasting him, savoring him, and Joel wonders if it pleases you to see him all bent out of shape like this. 
He prides himself on his masculinity. He’s always been a strong man, one who handles his shit on his own. Maybe it’s the Texas in him, but Joel’s always had traditional values. He’s always been the provider, the protector—he’s always been the one in charge. But when you wrap your lips around him and ease his cock into your hot, wet mouth, he’s at your complete mercy. 
“ Fuck,” he hisses, hands going to your hair. He tangles the silky strands between his fingers, and you hollow out our cheeks, creating a suction that has him groaning. He feels each pass of your lips down his spine, pressure forming low in his belly. “Just like that, pretty girl.”
You wrap your hand around the base and stroke the length you can’t fit into your mouth, and his grip in your hair tightens. Your nails are painted red—and the look of them wrapped around his cock is far better than he’d ever been able to imagine in his head. It’s so good that he doesn’t want to stop, he wants to cum just like this. He wants to expend himself at the back of your throat and watch his cum leak out of your mouth.
But Joel doesn’t get too far ahead of himself. There are other things, filthier things he wants to do to you than fill your mouth up. You let out a whiny groan as if sucking him off is somehow more pleasurable for you than it is for him. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, and the vibrations nearly send him over the edge, but Joel rips your head back to prolong this precious time with you. 
Your eyes are glassy, makeup smeared, lips swollen. You give him a beaming smile and Joel huffs a breath. “Did I do a good job?”
“ Yes, baby,” he says. “You did so well. C’mere, stand up.” You do as told, even though your legs are wobbly, and Joel lifts your foot into his lap. He unbuckles the straps of your heel, takes it off and sets it aside. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh and repeats the action with the other one, and then proceeds to pull your panties down your legs. He helps you out of the pink lace, and he knows he shouldn’t but he just can’t help himself and shoves them between the couch cushions, where he hopes you’ll forget about them.
He presses his mouth to your hip bone, an open mouthed kiss that leaves goosebumps in its wake as he does the same to your other side. “That feels so good,” you tell him.
Joel keeps peppering wet kisses across your belly, below your navel, over your pubic bone. Your thighs are pressed together, and you’re shifting on your feet in anticipation, and Joel can see the shiny wetness coating your pussy. He reaches between your legs and so gently slides his middle finger teasingly over your slit. It comes away sticky and wet, and he can’t resist the urge to lick the digit clean. It’s heady and sweet, and he feels drunker than whiskey or tequila has ever made him. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says, forehead falling against your abdomen. “What are you doing to me?”
“It’s okay,” you tell him. “I want you so bad, Joel. Please touch me.” Your hands are in his hair, stroking the unruly curls and lightly pulling.
The word please in your mouth sounds so fucking cute, so needy and desperate. What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to be a good man when you exist? He can’t, Joel knows. So long as you’re near—he’ll never be a good man. Only a bad one. Only a perverse one. He hooks his arm around your leg and lifts it over his shoulder, keeping his other hand wrapped around your waist for balance, and lets himself taste you fully, to drink from the source. 
And Jesus Christ, Joel loses it. He laps at your pussy, swallowing you up. He cleans up the mess you made in his lap, relishing in the decadence. He could do this for hours, he thinks. Could swirl his tongue around your swollen clit, could suck it between his lips, and kiss it softly for the rest of his life. He breathes in slowly, taking your scent deep into his lungs, and wonders why he’d ever want to come up for air. Your moans are music to his ears.
He dares a glance up at you to watch your expression when he reaches beneath you and slips a finger easily into your dripping pussy. 
Your head falls back, your mouth falls open, and Joel falls in love. 
The noises you make are obscene as you grind against his face, but not nearly as much as the sounds he’s making from between your legs. He’s groaning with your clit in his mouth and you’re creating a puddle in his palm, and it’s so sloppy and disgusting and he fucking loves it. 
Joel silently admits that you were right; that he loves your obscenities. He loves your secrets. He loves your defiance. He loves your depravity. 
He loves that you’re such a fucking slut. 
“Oh, god— Joel—!”
He pulls away because if you’re going to moan out his name again it’s going to be because of his cock. He stands abruptly, keeping one hand at the small of your back, and holds your jaw. With your face tilted up towards him, he smirks as he watches tears form in your eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Why did you stop?” Your voice is so whiny, so hopeless and frantic that it makes his cock twitch. “You were about to make me cum,” you say.
He kisses you hard, and you moan into his mouth, and Joel runs out of patience. He lifts you up and lays your back flat against the couch. He’s hovering over you, and his cock is just inches from the place it’s wept to be inside for so many years. Joel rolls it against you, gasping at the feel of your pussy on the underside of his cock. You’re so wet, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to last long enough for this to be good for you. 
But he’s determined. “ Joel,” you beg breathlessly, bucking your hips to try and find just the right angle where he slips inside.
“Yeah, baby?” He tilts his head slightly, watching as your eyes flicker back and forth between his hips and his predatory grin. 
“You’re being mean,” you say. “Stop teasing me. Just put it in, Joel, I need it so bad.”
He kisses your forehead. “S’that right?”
“Yes!”
It’s impossible, he thinks, to hold back his laugh. “You’re so fucking cute, baby,” he says. “Say please.”
“ Please! Please, please ple—!”
Joel lets out a ragged breath as he pushes into you. Finally, he thinks. Finally, finally, finally. “Fuck.”
It’s so much better than he ever imagined. He sinks in deep until your hips are flush, and even then he pushes your knee back to open you up and get impossibly deeper. 
“Oh my god,” you whimper, and Joel kisses you to swallow up the beautiful sound. 
You take him like you were made for his cock. And maybe you were, because Joel had never known it could be this fucking good. He knows it’ll never be this good again. “You’re taking it like such a good slut, baby,” he whispers into your ear, tongue sliding up your neck. He pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, the sudden change in force ripping a cry from your throat. “Shhh, it’s okay. You can take it.”
With your arms and legs wrapped around him, Joel fucks you slow. Real slow, real deep—he’s touching parts of you you didn’t even know existed. You feel so full and pressure coils around your spine. 
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, yes yes— mmm—!”
He sets a steady pace, hitting that soft spot inside of you every time. He reaches between your bodies and swipes this thumb over your clit. “Say thank you, baby.”
You look right into his eyes, warm and dark and full of devotion. You say, “ Thank you, Joel,” and you suddenly remember the same memory he does of that first day. 
He remembers how pretty you looked on your knees, and you remember how you spent that whole night in your bed touching yourself to him. 
And now it’s happened, it’s finally happened, and his cock is buried deep inside of you and his thumb is pressing hard against your clit and before he realizes it, your pussy is squeezing him as you cum. 
Tremors rock through your body, legs shaking and red painted fingernails clawing at his back. He keeps his same steady pace and says, “Give it to me, baby. Good fucking girl, being such a good little slut for me. That’s it. Give it to me. There you go.”
Even when your muscles loosen, you keep your limbs wound around him tight. Like even though you’ve finished and he’s seconds away from following you there, you still want him as close as possible. It makes him feel tender. “I want you to cum inside me,” you say, and Joel’s cock spasms in your tight pussy. “Cum in me, Joel, please —fill me up.”
He shouldn’t, he really fucking shouldn’t, but he already is, and stars blur his vision. Joel fights through the blindness though, and squeezes your cheeks in his hand. “Look at me,” he orders, and looking at your face makes him cum even harder. You take his thumb into your mouth, soft tongue circling it. And Joel bottoms out inside of you, has the best orgasm of his entire fucking life inside of a girl half his age, but cannot bring himself to regret a single second.
The weight of him over you is heavy but comforting. It’s perfect, and helps you catch your breath. Joel is panting, and you smell like vanilla and irish spring and cherry chapstick and when his eyes close, he wonders if he’s died and gone to heaven. 
Your fingers are stroking his spine lazily when the fear creeps in. Do you regret it? Now that it’s out of your system, do you wish you’d never have done it? Never have taunted him, never had let him keep all those secrets, never have come over tonight? The Evil Dead DVD sits on the floor by the front door, abandoned. 
There couldn’t have been much tequila in your mixed drink. You didn’t taste like alcohol at all. But still, you’d had some—do you feel like maybe he took advantage of you? 
Joel is afraid to look at you. He’s afraid to open his mouth, to ask if you’re alright, to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness. 
But then you ask him softly, “Is it okay if I sleep with you tonight?”
He hears the echo of those words, and wonders if you do, too. You wince as he finally sits up and pulls himself out of you. He knows he should say no, but he can’t. Instead, he asks, “Will you make pancakes in the morning?”
The sound of your girlish laughter greets him and calms his fears for now. “Anything you want.”
Joel stops at the bathroom on the way to his bed and cleans the sticky mess from between your legs. It’s then as he realizes how many unhinged decisions he’d made tonight. He doesn’t know if you’ve slept with other people without protection, doesn’t know if you’re on birth control, doesn’t know if you’d be willing to take a contraceptive pill in the morning if you’re not, doesn’t know anything. The distance, while easier, has taken so much of you from him. And the realization leaves Joel cold. 
You’re so young, and he’s so much older than you…if the worst happened, would it even be the worst? Do you even want kids? 
A new fantasy emerges in his brain. The first one since admitting to himself that it’s a little more than just an intrusive thought. You’re standing on the back porch with a beaming smile, hand over your eyes to block out the bright summer sun while he mows the lawn. You’re in a pretty pink sundress, and your belly is swollen with Joel’s baby, and his knees buckle as he leads you to his bedroom. 
You climb in beside him, and he holds you under the blankets a little tighter than you hold him. Emotion chokes him. Joel swallows it down. But then you ask, “What’s wrong?”
“I want to keep you,” he confesses. “I want to keep you forever.”
For a moment, it’s quiet. He wonders if maybe you think he’s going to say more, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn’t have anything else to say. 
“So do it,” you whisper. 
“But I can’t.”
“You can,” you tell him with a sigh. “You can, Joel. That’s the real secret.”
The words reverberate through him. They clang around in his brain and leave him with something akin to elation. You kiss his jaw, and Joel thinks maybe you might be right. Maybe he will keep you. 
But for tonight, having you here pressed against him with the promise of pancakes in the morning is enough.
[PART TWO]
[masterlist]
divider by @thecutestgrotto <3
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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 months ago
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Medical Emergency
Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fe!Reader -> When Jake gets a call asking to pick you up from the hospital, it's safe to say he's confused. Especially considering neither of you were known for getting along with the other.
Disclaimer: Enemies to lovers, brother's best friend, descriptions of being ill (nothing fully specified, just fainting a lot, low blood sugar and hormones), swearing, fluff, steamy moments, he takes care of you. This has been in my w.i.p for a while now so it's kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.
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It was safe to say Jake was confused to find out he was your emergency contact. 
It was known to most people in the town that you and Jake weren’t exactly the best of friends. The hatred started all back when he was brought into Top Gun the first time round. Before he suddenly became the best, of the best of the best. And each year he came back, it only got worse. 
Neither of you would be surprised if everyone in San Diego knew about how much you and Jake didn’t get along. 
So, yeah. Getting a call from a Nurse called Emma telling him he needed to come and pick you up from the hospital…he was confused. 
He’d spent most of the day training the new recruits at Top Gun. He was on base when he got the call, but twenty minutes later, he was parked outside the hospital and was being shown to your room. 
“She’s to take two of these every six hours for the next three days. If she has any drastic changes; dizziness, nausea, vomiting, etc. Bring her back. But she should be okay.”
He hadn’t even been told what had happened. 
Then he saw you. 
On a typical day, your hair was either up or down. You typically wore bright colours since the kids in your class like to point them out and name them. And even at the end of the week when you’d walk into the Hard Deck, Penny already having your drink waiting for you, and you’d look tired and ready to go to bed, you were still…bright. Put together. 
But from where he was standing, you were dressed in grey sweats and a Top-Gun hoodie. Most likely, you thought it was your brother’s. But from the worn hole around the edge of it let Jake know it was his. One your brother had never returned to him. 
You looked…like you needed to be comforted. 
Your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail at the base of your skull. Any hints of make-up had been long washed away. Your nail polish was chipped, if not already peeled from your nails. 
Finally slipping your shoes on, you stood slowly. You looked like you needed to sleep for a year, and maybe take another nap for eight months. 
“Just sign here and here and then you’re free to go.”
Jake watched as the nurse’s words just about registered in your ears before you slowly picked the pen up from her hand and signed your name at the bottom of the paper. 
Reaching to grab the rest of your stuff, Jake almost swooped forwards. “I’ve got it.”
You just nodded. “Thanks.”
Any other day, you would have told him you could do it yourself and tell him to fuck off. 
He picked up your overnight bag and, with a hand at the bottom of your back, led you out of the hospital. 
“This way.”
You followed him back to his car and once he knew you were safe inside the passenger seat, he rounded the car and got into his seat. 
“I did tell them just to call me a cab. You can just drop me off down the road. You don’t need to-”
“I’m not letting you walk home.” He told you. “What’s your address?”
Part of Jake wished you’d fight him more about walking home. At least that way he’d know you were actually okay. He still would have driven you home, but…he wanted you back. 
Typing your address into his phone, he followed the sat-nav. 
By the time he pulled up outside your house, you were asleep. He waited for five minutes, letting you sleep whilst he researched and read the prescription you’d been given. 
Then he looked up at your house. You had to have a spare key. 
Carefully, he left his car and walked up your path. He looked in all the typical places until he found a small patch of wood from your porch coming loose. Inside was your key. 
So, opening your door and carrying your things inside, he came back for you. 
Unbuckling your seatbelt, he placed one of your arms around his neck before placing his own arms around your back and under your legs. 
“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
And you did. 
Shutting the door to his car with his back, he carried you into your house, shutting your front door with his foot before taking you into your bedroom and laying you on top of your sheets. Looking around, he found a basket of blankets just under your window. 
However, as he covered you up, he checked your temp with the back of his hand. You seemed okay. 
Then you reached for him. 
It was only for a few seconds, but you held his hand before your body fell back to sleep. 
Before he left your room, Jake got you a glass of water and left your window on a latch. And then he stayed. 
Kicking off his boots by the door, he locked everything up around your home before laying down on top of the guest bed with a million and one questions circling around his head. 
Why was he your emergency contact? What had happened? Why didn’t anyone else tell him you were in the hospital for, clearly, more than a couple of hours? 
You spent the next two days in and out of consciousness. The hospital told Jake not to worry and that it was a good sign you were sleeping. He’d wake you every couple of hours and give you your tablets. 
And each time, you’d wake up with the same confusion of how and why he was in your house. And then you’d remember. And apologise. And thank him. Before he’d tell you to lay back down and get some rest. 
By the time you came round, you woke up to texts pinging on your phone. 
How could you not tell me you were dating someone?
We SERIOUSLY need to catch up about this when you’re back in. 
Your boyfriend called the school. Why is this how I’m finding out you’re sick?
Get better soon, honey xoxo
Also, don’t worry about the kids. I’ve got your class covered. 
One of your fellow-teacher best friends. You and her had joined the school as teachers in the same year. She had been away on a cruise for the last two weeks. 
Slowly, everything that had happened over the last two days came flooding back to you. They had called Jake. He had come to get you at the hospital. He kept waking you up. Had he stayed that whole time? Was he the one to call your school?
Pulling yourself from your bed and heading to the bathroom, you caught a look of yourself in the mirror. You looked…rough. And also the exact same as you had when you’d left the hospital. Maybe there was a little more colour in your cheeks. 
And you did feel better. 
The room felt still and you didn’t feel like throwing up all your insides out, despite being unable to do so. 
Drying your hands on the towel, you made your way through your home. Things were…tidy. Militarily so. The last time your place, although tidy, had looked militarily tidy had been when your brother had visited you before he got deployed again. 
So, either, he was here now. Jake was still here. Or you had a ghost haunting your house that just so happened to be in the Navy. 
Walking down the stairs, you found a pair of boots at the bottom of your stairs. They definitely weren’t yours. 
Then you heard someone in the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread and chicken noodle soup wafted through your home. 
It was a minute or two before Jake spotted you. It felt like a fever dream, watching him in your kitchen, dressed normally, a towel slung over his shoulder as he slid the bread buns from the tray to a cooling rack. 
“Oh, hey. You’re awake.”
You nodded. “Did you cook?”
“How are you feeling?” Jake made his way over to you, his hand coming to touch your forehead and cheeks. You swatted his hands away. You could have sworn you saw him smile after you did it. 
“Get off me, I’m fine.”
Jake smiled as he watched you make your way to sit down on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You looked way better than you had done when he saw you in the hospital. 
“What day is it?”
“Tuesday.” He told you, continuing to slide all but one of the bread buns onto the cooling back. The final one, he dropped onto a plate before dishing out a bowl of the soup. 
“Eat up. You’re gonna need your strength.”
You looked at the food in front of you. “You made this?”
“I made it.”
You looked at him sceptically. “Is this how you plan to kill me? She was weak, your honour. I just wanted to help her.”
“Why would I take care of you for three days and then kill you? It’d be easier if I did it in three days.”
“So you did think about it.”
Jake rolled his eyes and handed you a fork. “Just eat.”
You couldn’t lie, it was one of the best meal’s you’d had in a long time. And as you ate, you looked around your home. Your books had been tidied away and back onto your shelves. All except two. One you were part way through reading and one that was…almost finished. But not by you. 
You didn’t notice as Jake watched you take everything in. Your books, your pots of pens. You dish towels, your spices and other baking ingredients. Some had even been put into the jars you had been meaning to fill back up. Then you noticed the smaller things. Like how he’d put up the wooden signs in your kitchen you’d been planning to do for months, and how he’d cleaned…everything. 
It looked like he’d done a complete renovation of your place whilst you’d been knocked out. 
Then you noticed the pile of papers on your kitchen counter. 
The English and maths tests you’d given to your class a few weeks ago. You hadn’t finished marking them. 
But Jake had. 
You took the top paper and looked it over. 
“Did you mark these?” You flipped through the pages. Not only were they marked, but they were marked correctly. They even had a sticker on each of “well done” or “great stuff”. 
You heard Jake chuckle. “I am a teacher, too, you know.”
“You’re a…Top Gun instructor. Not a third-grade teacher.”
“I do suppose I am over qualified to help but-”
You shook your head. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so insulting.
“No, I-I mean, thank you. But you didn’t have to do this. Any of this.” You gestured around your home. “You already did enough bringing me home.”
“I wanted to ask you about that. Why was it me that brought you home? Surely you have people who you actually like, to be your emergency contact?”
Tyler watched as you fell silent and searched for the words to tell him. 
“You’re…not.” Taking a breath, you looked up at him. “They…they tried a couple of people. They couldn’t make it. One of the nurses knows Penny so called and asked if she had anyone’s number who I knew. I did try and tell them to just call me a cab.”
He let your words settle over him. 
“Who?”
“What?”
“Who else did you call? Who didn’t pick up?”
You listed them off. Most were people in your family and a couple of friends. 
“I would have fought them on it but-”
“I’m glad you called me.” Jake admitted you. And it struck you. “Give me your phone.”
You slid it over to him. And he called his number from your phone. 
“If anything like that happens again, I want you to call me.”
“Jake-”
He shook his head. “You’re not fighting me on this. Fight me on everything else. Anything else. But not this. Call me.”
So you just nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. And eat up, too.”
You did. “You say that as if we’ve got some place to be.”
“We do.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Twenty minutes later he practically shoved you into your bathroom en-suit telling you to shower and get changed. 
“I thought my nurse was meant to be kind.”
“I am kind!” He said. “And I’m not a nurse. And I’m a friend.”
You laughed a little at that one. 
“I’ve seen the inside of your junk drawer. I’m your friend. I have to be, or else I don’t have a word for it.”
He did have a point on that. Your junk drawer…even you hadn’t seen the inside of that thing in at least a year. 
So, after getting dressed, taking the last of your antibiotic and forcing some kind of health smoothie Hangman had made you with the blender he found at the back of your cupboard, you found yourself back in the passenger seat of his car. 
“Where are we going?”
He said nothing, just smiled and pulled the aviators from his collar and put them on before starting his engine and for a moment you wondered if that was what he did when he got into his jet. Flash his million-dollar smile before starting his jet engine and taking off into the sky. For a moment you wondered what it would be like to watch him land and look over at you just like he did. 
But then you forced yourself back to reality. 
This was Jake Seresin, aka Hangman. Given that name because he hangs his team out to dry. 
But he didn’t leave you. 
In fact, he was the only one to show up. 
And the first to stay. 
You read the road signs as best as you could until you realised where he was taking you. 
“You know there is a beach like ten minutes from my house.”
He nodded. “I know. But you’re there all the time. You’ve seen that patch a thousand times. This is different.”
“How? Isn’t all sand the same?”
He shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe. But they always say the beach can work a thousand miracles. Come on.”
It was a five minute walk to the bottom. 
“Is it usually this empty?”
He looked around. “There’s usually a couple more people, but yeah. This is usually it. Not many people drive this far down. They think it’s not the best but to me…couldn’t be more perfect.”
“Huh.”
“What?” Jake asked, looking at you. 
You continued looking out to the water. You shook your head. “No, nothing. Just…never thought you’d be the sentimental type.”
“Well…I’m not.” 
You looked at him. 
“To most people.”
It was at that moment you felt a small crackle. Either in your chest or your gut, something crackled. And you felt the blanket of hatred you had for Jake Seresin start to fade. 
His call sign might be ‘Hangman’, but you had a strong feeling that when it came to those he cared about…he tried his best to stick around. And even if he couldn’t, he’d make a memory of them to last a lifetime. 
 For the rest of the day, you spent most of your time lying on the beach watching the waves or reading your book, which he had packed. And it was…one of the best days you’d had in a long time. 
“Why are you doing this?”
“What?” Moving the book from his face, Jake looked at you from beneath his shades as you lay on your stomach beside him. 
“This? Less than a week ago I’m pretty sure people would have made money on you and I killing each other. Why are you helping me?”
“Because you need it. And I’m pretty sure anyone else would believe you when you say that you don’t.”
“And you don’t believe me?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know you.”
You scoffed. “What do you mean you know me?”
You watched as he smiled and tried to kill the butterflies in your stomach. 
“Y/n.”
You were still getting used to the fact he was using your first name. Usually it was your last, or some sweet nickname like ‘Sweetheart’ that would grate through your entire body. 
“You spend most of your time making sure everyone feels okay and is doing okay. The only time you actually let your feelings know is when you’re taking shit to me. You deserve a break. You deserve to take one before your body forces you to have one.”
Hearing his words as he spoke, you slowly sat up until your back was to the water and you were fully facing him. 
“Plus, your brother asked me to look out for you. And I’d rather not suffer his wrath again.”
Okay, that had to be complete bull. Your brother’s wrath when it came to protecting you, that was true. But why ask Jake of all people given he knew your history and track record with him. 
And what did he mean by again?
You barely had time to ask all of your questions before you watched him stand up, throwing his book closed to the ground. You mentally scolded yourself for letting your eyes wander all over him. 
You weren’t blind to the fact Hangman looked, well, like him. A daring smile, enough charm to charm even the most sourest of people and the body to go with it. But before today, you had been immune. At least, you considered yourself immune since the blanket of hatred that you held for him seemed to block plenty out. 
Worst of all, he caught you. 
You knew he caught you because of the smirk on his face and the chuckle that escaped his broad chest. 
“Shut up.” You groaned, forcing yourself to stand. “I’ve been in the hospital. My immune system is temporarily weakened.”
“It isn’t the first time I’ve caught you, Sweetheart.” Seresin drawled just as you looked at him both annoyed and confused. And maybe slightly offended that he thought you had, before today, purposefully checked him out. 
But he just laughed. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
“But what about our stuff?”
“It’ll be safe. I know most of the people on this beach, they’ll make sure nothing happens to it.”
Taking your hand in his, he led you down the beach, under a small cove and through to the otherside where some rocks were covered in seaweed and sand. 
And for a while, you and Jake explored the place. You’d never been this far down the beach so finding out it existed was a bonus. Finding seaweed to pop and watching the crabs crawl across some of the rocks was fun. 
You’d never stop to take a break. Straight out of college, you’d begun teaching. It had been in your home town until your brother got accepted into Top Gun. And, with an internalised fear of losing him, you moved out to San Diego. You knew after a while he’d be stationed somewhere else, but you’d managed to find a home there. And when your brother was stationed not too far from his Top Gun base, the rest of your family moved closer. 
Since then, it has been helping them get settled, tutoring their children after spending all day teaching. It was sleepless nights spent alone at home, living off the quickest food you could make because you simply didn’t have time to cook. It was running yourself so far into the ground that the one person who you never thought would even step foot into your home was the only one to show up and give you enough space to actually relax. 
So watching crabs walk along the rocks was fun. 
And hearing your name, and calling out his name above the waves, without hatred or malice behind it, was fun, too. 
“Come and look at this.”
Carefully, you made your way over the rocks, trying your best not to slip and hit your head. And you did so, until the last rock before you joined him. 
Letting out a small yell as you reached out to try and catch yourself, he threw out his hand and caught you. 
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Can you stand?”
You lowered yourself to a lower rock, still holding onto his arms before letting go and allowing yourself to take his hand and help you up the rest of the way. 
“What am I looking at?”
It was a starfish. 
The rest of the day, you and Jake explored the shore, skipped rocks on the calming water, sunbathed and even took a swim in the water. 
By the time the sun had set, you found yourself sitting with him on the hood of his car, a pizza box between you both, watching the planes fly from the airport. 
A week ago, if anyone had told you that you would have done any of this, especially with Hangman, you would never have believed them. 
“Thank you, for your help.” You blurted out as you watched another plane fly into the sky. 
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do.” You wanted him to listen to you. “Given our track record for being nice to each other, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you didn’t turn up at the hospital to bring me home. But you did. And you made sure I didn’t fall into some kind of coma after it. And today you gave me the first day, I think, ever, where I’ve not done a thousand things for somebody else and enjoyed what I was doing. So, I do need to thank you for that.”
“Are you saying…you…like me?”
You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, but you tried to force it away. “Okay.”
“No, no. I mean, this is a miracle.”
“You’re tolerable.” You corrected him. 
Smiling, he took another slice of pizza. “You like me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You like me. I am now your friend. We are now friends.”
You shook your head, holding in a laugh. “Just shut up and eat your pizza.”
It was safe to say after that, that everyone was shocked at the dynamic between both you and Hangman. 
They had all gotten so used to the insults and borderline flirty comments you’d both sling each other's way, it had become like white noise. So, when it was gone and replaced with laughter and smiling, it gave everyone a terrified feeling. 
“I’m guessing they’re not here yet.”
Penny shook her head as she poured another pint. With a smile, she nodded over to the other end of the bar. “They’re over there.”
Twenty minutes later, it had become like a social study for everyone in the bar to watch you and Jake. 
“Do you think they fucked? Got all that pent up energy out?”
Coyote shook his head. “No, he would have told me. How long have they been like this? Maybe they’ve been hypnotised into liking each other?”
Rooster shook his head. “The hypnotist left like three months ago. Maybe they’re…faking it. Do you think they heard us talking about them last week? About who would kill who first? Maybe they’re teaming up so nobody wins?”
Penny shook her head as she wiped down the bar. “Well, whatever it is, it’s a nice change. She looks a lot happier. They both do. Who knows, maybe next we’ll be holding a wedding here.”
“Not their wedding?” Rooster seemed shocked. “Penny, they were about three insults away from killing each other three weeks ago.”
“Love is blind, as they say.”
For the rest of the night, people watched you and Jake sat together. Seresin and Y/l/n. Hangman and Sweetheart. 
And then they watched as you walked home. 
Together. 
It was safe to say everyone was shocked to their core. For the first time ever, there had been a night where both you and Jake had not only been in the bar at the same time but had also sat together for the whole night, and not once killed each other. 
Verbally or otherwise. 
“You know, you’re not as big of a dick as I thought you were Seresin. Tonight was a nice change.”
“I have been known to be kind once in a while.”
“Keep this up, you might be fit to see another day.”
“So might you.” Jake replied as he watched you climb the steps of your front porch. “I meant what I said, about taking a break. You deserve one, Y/n.”
You took in what he said with a small nod before adding. “You know, it’s still freaking me out, you even know my first name.”
“If it helps, the nurse had to tell me.” He said. “Guess I’ve called you by your last name so much, I forgot your first.”
“Is that why you keep saying it? So you don’t forget?”
He shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“You know, it is okay if you forget it once in a while.”
Jake smiled a little at that. “How could I forget the name of the woman who once dumped three shots of tabasco sauce into my drink?”
“Hey, you can’t prove that was me.”
“Hey, the bottle was in your hand.”
You unlocked your door. “I still plead not guilty.”
“Whatever you say, Sweetheart. Sure you’re okay on your own?”
You nodded. “I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you have an early start in the morning?”
He nodded. “Even so. Call me.”
“Goodnight, Jake.”
“Night, Sweetheart.”
He waited for you to lock your doors before he got into his car and drove back home. 
The following weeks continued the same way. If anybody who was anybody saw you and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin together, in the same room, talking. They would stop and watch. 
Never in a million years did anyone expect you and Jake to talk, never mind actually become friends. 
Each Friday, you met each other at the bar. You both have a drink. You’d both sit and talk. Maybe some of your old ways were still there with each other, but there was less “25 to life” about it and more “affection” in the words you both said. 
However, it nearly gave people an aneurysm when they thought you were both actually dating. 
Two people who were thirty seconds away from physically fighting each other every day had gone from, well, that, to…to…to dating?
It couldn’t be…could it?
And the rumours that had been spread by one of the bar regulars, after she’d spotted both of you grocery shopping together before spotting Jake’s car leave from the top of your road hours later, were only fueled when they heard about what happened at the school. 
It had been months since you fainted and you had been getting better. You felt better, you felt like you had more energy. And with Jake’s help you started to feel like a person again. A person who wasn’t wholly consumed by their work constantly, whether they were ten miles from the building or not. 
Except, one morning, you woke up and felt…off. 
Something wasn’t right. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something didn’t feel right. Maybe your period was coming early. It has been doing that lately. Surprising you when you least expected or wanted it. 
Just a few weeks ago, it had arrived early once again. And the pain you’d felt in the days before nearly floored you. And when you hadn’t showed up at the bar like you’d agreed to with Jake, he came looking for you. That night he’d taken a quick trip to the grocery store after you told him what happened. He looked after you. Made sure you were okay. The next day, he drove you back to the store and you stocked up on supplies and snacks. 
It was also later that night when he surprised you by making dinner. 
Opening up your fridge, you took one of the healthy smoothies that Jake had left you the last time he’d come round, before packing it into your bag and heading to work. 
Your queasy feelings only got worse. And then…you felt it. 
Sticking on a documentary for your class, you took your phone and slowly made your way towards the teachers bathroom, stopping off at the next class. 
“Can you keep an eye on them for a couple of minutes?” 
Your best friend nodded. “Course’ honey.” Before asking her TA to go next door. 
“You okay?”
You tried your best to look okay, despite everything you were feeling inside. 
“Yeah. Yeah. I will be.”
As the TA headed next door, you made your way towards the bathroom, then dialled his number. 
“Hey,�� Jake said as he answered. “Just about to call you. They’ve got a showing of The Wizard of Oz tonight at the theatre, if you wanted to go-”
“Jake.”
“Are you okay? What’s happened? Is everything okay? Is it your brother-”
“Every…” You swallowed thickly before carefully lowering yourself onto the floor with your back against the wall, and unlocking the door. “Everything’s okay, it’s just…”
Jake had a strong feeling he knew what was happening. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”
“School bathroom. Teacher’s.”
“Okay.” You could hear him leaving his office and getting into his car. “Is the door unlocked?”
You didn’t answer. 
“Y/n.”
“I’m here.”
Jake breathed. “Y/n, Sweetheart. Is the door unlocked to the bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Does anyone else know you’re there?”
You explained what happened as best as you could. 
“Just, please get here soon?”
“I will, Sweetheart. I promise. I’m almost there.”
You didn’t know how long had passed but it wasn’t long before you heard your name being called out by Jake. 
Pulling the door open a little from the floor, Jake ran towards it and peeked inside. There you were, sat with your knees close to your chest, against the wall. 
He stepped inside before crouching down. 
“I-I’m sorry I called. I just-”
Checking you over, Jake cupped your face. “Hey, no. No. I’m glad you called me. You can always call me. How are you feeling?”
“Dizzy. It’s better now but still like the room is spinning. And I’m not harnessed in.”
“Okay. Do you think you can stand?”
You gave a small nod. “Maybe.”
Helping you up, Jake took your hands in his and you stood up. 
“Come on, we’re getting you checked out at the ER.”
You would have fought him on it but considering the last time it happened they kept you in overnight, you went willingly. 
Thankfully, you didn’t pass out even when the dizziness and the nausea felt like they were getting worse. 
By the time the doctor saw you, she did all of the routine checks before turning and looking at Jake and back to you. 
“Is there a possibility you could be pregnant? I’ve seen a lot of couples come in here with similar symptoms and-”
Oh shit. 
“Oh, no. I-I’m not. And he’s not-”
“We’re- We’re not together.”
A few more awkward moments like that filled the next couple of hours until both yourself and Jake seemed to give up on correcting people. 
By the time they discharged you, they told you your blood sugar levels had dropped and your hormones were beginning to change with your cycle. Along with the advice to try and reduce stress. 
Driving you home that night, Jake made a detour. Towards the diner and then towards the beach along The Hard Deck. 
It was quiet for a Tuesday evening, but yourself and Jake just sat and ate dinner whilst watching the water push in and pull out constantly across the sand until eventually, laying your head on his shoulder, he placed his arm around your own. 
“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”
“Thank you for calling me. Are you feeling any better?”
You nodded, gratefully. “Just a little tired, that's all.”
“I’ll drop you off at home, soon, if you’d like.”
You nodded then looked at him. And before you could stop yourself, you asked him; “Would you stay with me? Tonight? If you can’t- or if you don’t want to-”
“I’ll stay.”
“A-are you…sure?”
Jake nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I’ll stay with you.”
You didn’t know what else to say other than thank you, so pressing a light kiss to his cheek, you said as much. “Thank you.”
You could have sworn you saw him blush as he smiled and looked down. “Anytime.”
It was odd really, laying beside the man you thought you’d be telling your kids about when you were older. About how much you hated him and how much he hated you, and why neither of you could sit next to each other at the Thanksgiving table every year. 
Jake had decided to stay in your guest bedroom, but the minute you heard him lay down in his bed, you felt…awake. Not wide awake. You were still tired. But you weren’t settled. Something inside of you wanted to be closer to him. 
So, after an hour of laying on your back, staring at your ceiling and listening to the distant shore line, with the odd rumble of a car’s engine running up and down the road every now and again, you got up. 
Jake had left his door open. If you shouted for him, or needed him, he would be able to hear you. Usually, he’d be out like a light, waking up at the smallest of noises. But this time, he couldn’t sleep. 
Instead, his mind was going over the fact you had called him when you were at work. And the fact that he enjoyed it when you were with him. That he was the one you chose to lean on. And the fact that he wished he was down the hall with you at that moment, then lay alone in the dark in your guest bedroom. 
Then he heard you. 
From the dim, moonlit hallway, he saw you. 
“Hey, everything-”
“Can I stay with you?”
Already half way up, Jake paused for a second. Then nodded. “‘Course. Come ‘ere.”
Walking over, Jake pulled the covers back and you climbed under them before feeling his arm wrap around you. And your arms came around him, one over his shoulder and round his neck, the other by his side. 
Instinctively, he pulled one of your legs across him and held it there whilst his other arm remained securely around your back, holding you to him. 
“Is this okay?”
He felt you nod and he nervously swallowed. 
“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”
In a quiet voice, your breath against his neck, you answered. “Better now.”
Pressing a kiss to your head, you nuzzled into each other. 
“Good.”
Not too long after that, you both fell asleep. 
And when you both woke up, neither of you wanted to move. 
If this had somehow happened six months ago, you probably would have thrown each other to the other side of the room. But it wasn’t six months ago. And you’d come to know Jake as…Jake. Who took care of his friends, and made sure everyone was okay and was kind and caring and…a lot of other things you didn’t want to think about at six o’clock in the morning. 
And the way he was looking at you at that moment made you think about other things that you didn’t want to think about. 
“What are you thinking about?” Jake asked after a few moments of watching you study him. 
“That you need to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you…like me.”
Jake smiled. “I do like you, Sweetheart.”
“Jake.”
Then, for a moment, everything felt…serious. His tired smile dropped a little from his lips as he looked at you. 
“Do you trust me?”
You felt your heartbeat pick up in your chest and for a moment, you wondered if he could hear it. 
“Yes.”
Tucking your hair behind your ear, you felt him cup your cheek. “Y/n…”
He seemed nervous. 
“Can I kiss you?”
If you had let yourself think about it long enough, you never would have guessed Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who went after whatever, and usually whoever he wanted, would ask if he could kiss. You’d always assumed that he was so confident in life and with women that he’d know. That he’d see the small signals. Or even the loud ones. And just…kiss a girl. 
But no. 
He asked. 
And something in your gut jumped. 
So you answered; “Yes.”
Nervously, he licked his lips before he leaned in. And kissing him felt…weird. Because it felt…normal. Unlike anything else you’d felt in your life. 
You managed to pull him closer, until he was leaning above you. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
From there, the softer, searching kisses slowly faded away and turned into something more. More wanting, more needing. Feeling his hands move down your body before he gripped your hips, and pulled you closer to him and carefully slid them back up until the fabric of your t-shirt began to bunch together. 
Feeling him press into your thigh, you let out a small noise that was only swallowed by his kiss. Swiftly, he pulled you across him, your legs straddling his lap before he sat up. Once more, he pushed the hair from your face and took you in, in the rising daylight. 
No words were spoken out loud, but everything was said. 
Leaning down, you kissed him again before letting your own hands move down his chest and towards the hem of his t-shirt. Except, just as he pulled you closer by your waist, his hips rocking into you, you both jolted at the sound of his alarm. 
“Sorry.” Jake quickly turned and switched it off. You were both going to be late for work. 
“If we don’t get ready now, we’re gonna be late.”
Looking at him, you didn’t know fully what to say. It had just been the hottest make out session of your life, with a guy six months ago people would have bet money on you killing. And you’d both been cock-blocked by his alarm. 
“I’ll meet you here, after work?”
That made you smile. “Okay.”
Then he did, too. “Okay.” Before throwing his phone to the side and pulling you down to kiss him. But as you pulled away, he groaned, trying to pull you back to continue but you walked a good three feet away from the bed. 
“Can’t be late, Hangman. You’ve got pilots to teach.”
With a coy smile, he was standing in front of you within seconds before lifting you onto the dresser behind you. This time, it was you trying to pull him back when he stopped kissing you. But he just stood back and let out a small chuckle. 
“We’ve both got students to teach, Sweetheart. We stay here any longer, they’re both gonna miss us.”
One final kiss to your lips, he stood back and practically ran away before you could grab hold of him. 
Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed for the day and had poured you a coffee to-go as well as packed you another smoothie and grabbed your lunch for you before you’d come downstairs, dressed and began loading the last of the exam papers into your bags. 
He dropped you back off at work, however, when you realised he was waiting in the parking lot for you to enter, you left your bags by the pillar and walked back. With his window already being down, you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his hand cup the back of your head. 
“See you tonight?”
“See you tonight.”
The day for either of you couldn’t have felt longer. And by the time Jake came walking through your back door, dropping his bag onto one of the pantry hooks, he couldn’t have been more relieved to see you. 
And for a moment, he just watched you as you sat on the sofa with crossed legs, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Softly, he approached you from behind before wrapping his arms around your shoulders. 
You smiled. 
“Hey, Sweetheart.”
“You’re back.”
You felt him relax against you. “Finally.”
“There’s some food. I made you a plate in the oven.”
He pressed a kiss to your head before walking towards the kitchen. “I would have cooked.”
“I know, but I needed the distraction.”
Waltzing back inside holding onto the warm plate, he smirked as he popped a fork-full of veg into his mouth. You could already feel your cheeks heating and from the look on his face, he could see it clear as day. 
“Distraction from what?”
“Nothing in particular.”
“Nothing, huh?”
At some point, he put down his plate and rounded back to the sofa, standing behind you before pressing soft kisses into the side of your neck. 
“Jake.”
The way you said his name went straight to his dick. 
As he moved your hair, you leaned to grant him more access. A satisfied smirk came to his lips as he watched your legs move to straighten out. 
“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Sweetheart.”
Eventually, you felt Jake move away but he appeared again, lowering himself in front of you. Taking the textbooks and notes from you and placing them on the coffee table behind him, he leaned forward and pulled you in to kiss him. 
“Have you been thinking about me?”
Feeling his hand move up your thigh and towards your shorts, you leaned in closer. “Have you, Sweetheart?”
“Yes,” your voice came out breathy. 
“Is this okay?”
You nodded. 
“I need words, darlin’.”
“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”
As time passed, the small part of you that was still able to function started to ask questions. Like why you had hated him so much in the first place? And how you almost missed…him. 
And by the time you woke up in the morning, Jake practically wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, you had come to a new conclusion. 
You didn’t hate him anymore. 
You hadn’t hated him for a long time. 
All opinions you had of him, especially after a night of mindblowing sex, had been shot out of the water. 
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was no longer the man you thought he was. The man you had come to know and lo- 
The man you had come to know was a man that showed up. And stayed. He was someone that took care of the people he cared about. He was someone that would fix things in your home without you asking. He was someone that cooked meals, even if it was almost one o’clock in the morning and you were craving a grilled cheese. He was someone that, even after sex, took care of you in a way nobody had ever even thought about doing before. He was someone that you could trust and respect, and did so. 
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was a man that had proved your theories wrong and he was a man that you realised you were falling for. 
And in some ways, that scared you. And in some ways, it didn’t. 
Because, for as much as he could be so sure of himself. So bold. So confident, it bordered on cocky. You were also sure of him. Sure that, if he was feeling the same things you felt, that he wouldn’t let you hurt yourself when you fell, but rather he’d catch you. 
And it, surprisingly, didn’t take him very long. 
By the time you woke up in the morning and headed downstairs, freshly dressed in a worn Top Gun hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts, you started making breakfast. However, as you stood at the stove, flipping the bacon, you felt a newly familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. 
Dropping his chin to your shoulder, Jake pulled you close to his chest. 
“Good morning.”
“Morning’.” He drawled. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”
“Bacon and eggs. There’s also toast in the toaster.”
With a smile, Jake pressed a kiss to your exposed collar which caused you to let out a small giggle before quickly turning the stove off. 
“You’ve gotta be careful, Hangman. You’ll make me burn breakfast.”
He hummed a response. “I had a couple other meals in mind.”
“Oh really? Like what?”
With his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck where you suspected he’d just left another hickey, he slowly turned you around. “I can think of one.”
Finally facing him, he kissed you as you fumbled with the last temperature gauge and turned it off. Picking you up, he carried you away from the counter near the stove to the one complete opposite. 
“You’re driving me insane dressed like this.” He mumbled against your kiss. “Wearing my shirt.”
“Your shirt?” You asked as his lips moved to your neck. 
Looking at you for a moment, half drunk on your kiss, he nodded. “Didn’t you know, Sweetheart? This here is mine.” Pinching some of the fabric between his fingers he shook it as he told you so. 
You laughed. “No it’s not.”
He nodded. “God's honest truth. Your brother stayed at mine one night after he’d gone out drinking. Lost his shirt, don’t ask me how. Stole one of my hoodies. Never got it back.”
“How do you know this is yours?”
With a smile, Jake showed you the small hole that you’d made a little bigger over the years from when you’d get nervous. “This right here. Loose thread got caught in a cabinet I was fixing in my room. Pulled at it too hard. And…”
Jake watched as your expression changed a little, hungry for more of his touches, as he pushed his hand slowly up the inside of your- his hoodie. 
A slight smirk, he pulled at the side tag and showed you. And it baffled you how you’d never noticed before. 
J.H.S
“See. But, I have to say, Sweetheart. It looks better on you than it ever did me.”
And as he was looking at you, he asked you something else. “Let me take you out on a date. A real one. You know, seeing you like this…I never want to see anyone else like this but you.”
“Jake…”
“I’m being serious. Sweetheart, I want you. And not just temporarily.” Then he looked away as he said the next part. “I’d get it…if you didn’t want that. God knows you and I don’t have the best history when it comes to even getting along but-”
“I want to date you.”
He looked up at you. 
“I want to date you,” you repeated. “Believe me, half of the time I don’t get it myself. How we’ve gone from one extreme to the other, but I know…I know I want you around.”
“I want you around, too.”
“So, yes.”
Jake smiled. “Yes?”
You smiled back. “Yes. Take me out on a date, Jake Seresin.”
Leaning forwards, he kissed you. And before long, your hands started to feel for the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head. 
It was safe to say, when you and Jake walked into The Hard Deck in the evening after your official first date, hand in hand before he pressed a kiss to your lips, a lot of people were shocked. 
And lost a lot of money. 
But Penny won it all. 
She knew the minute Jake saw you, and your brother scolded him, that something would happen. After all, Hangman was known for going after what he wanted. She just never expected to have to be the one to force you to be in the same room and for that room to be a hospital.
2K notes · View notes
rayaswrittings · 1 year ago
Text
I just want to feel
Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!best friend!reader
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Summary: your best friends, Sam and Colby, ask you to be in one of their Q&A videos, but there’s alcohol involved… a lot of it.
Warning(s): SMUT! Mature Language, mature themes, kissing, alcohol, unprotected p in v, Friends to lovers trope :)), choking etc.
This is a long writing so I’m sorry for mistakes!
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“Are you sure I should be in the video? I mean, your fans barely know about me” You ask for a final time as Sam leads you to the living room, his recording camera already set up in front of the couch where Colby had been sitting. The two of them were wearing all black so you did too, a black off the shoulder sweater that was old. It was one of the main things you’d leave at Sam and Colby’s in case you ever crashed for the night.
While most people would kill to be in their videos, you never really saw the point. You were somewhat camera shy and a complete nobody. Why would anyone care to see you on the screen? Not to mention all the random internet ships that come with it all. You grew up with Sam, which means you ultimately grew up with Colby as soon as they met. You were only a teenager and now that your adults, you stay at theirs from time to time when your out with friends and get wasted at a party.
Colby would always come and get you from them.
“Our fans will love you. Just be honest and chill, okay?” Sam nods toward Colby and you walk past him to sit next to the dark haired boy, his strong cologne filling your nose.
“Don’t be nervous, at least we have alcohol” Colby’s comment made a small laugh escape from your lips, and you shook your head at his playful smirk. He was right. Alcohol always calmed you down and made your anxiety a little bit less of what it usually was.
You watch the blonde lean forward to turn on the camera and Colby does the same, although you sit back and watch them do their intro. You’d only been in a few other videos of there’s as a small guest but they always made it known to their fans who you were. After all, you all basically started off nobody’s together.
You remember the last morning you had left for school with Sam in freshman year. It was the last day you’d left alone with him for the rest of high school. Your parents were close to each other so you and Sam had practically known each other for most of your lives, but that day, when he met Colby, it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.
The three of you would take the bus together every morning and walk home every afternoon, spending almost every second in between still with one another. It was perfect. Your group was so refreshing, it felt so right.
Your first argument was when you were in junior year, at a party you knew you shouldn’t of been at.
At the time, you’d been talking to this senior, James. He was the captain of your schools swim team and fairly muscular for his 17 years of age. That night at the party was the first time you’d really done anything, he kept handing you shots and like an idiot, you took them. Looking back on it now, you know it could’ve been avoided, but you also trusted the boy you liked. You truly wanted to just fit in with his friends.
That was until he tried to to undo your crochet top in the middle of the dance floor, whispering dirty nothings into your ear that made you feel disgusting.
When you told him off, he got angry with you, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you away so he could get you alone. People were starting to stare and you were starting to get embarrassed, like you were some random slut he’d been taking upstairs.
But then he was ripped away from you, and in only a matter of seconds, Sam’s hand was laid on the small of your back, checking you for bruises the boy might’ve given you. He was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the chaos on the floor.
“Colby, get off of him!” You scream, noticing the blood coming from James’s face. Colby was on top of him, punching him the hardest you’d ever seen anyone punch, not sparing him anything. Sam held you back when you tried to get close, they saw what he did to you and there was no way in hell they’d let it slide.
The sound of police sirens fill the street and everyone is quickly running out of the house, and finally Colby stands up. He wipes his now busted lip before looking back at his two friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody mess laid on the floor.
You hated blood.
“Y/N-“ you push yourself off Sam and past Colby, looking out the window to watch the police cars pull in front of the house. It looked like a murder scene, and you were so in shock you couldn’t even think straight. “Y/N, we have to go” Colby tries to grab your arm but you quickly pull it away, and now he’s able to see the tears streaming down your cheeks.
“Get out of here!” You can hear the officers radio the closer they get, and all you could think about was getting Sam and Colby out of there. “Go! Please just go!” Your pleading words make it almost impossible to not listen, and with only a few more seconds, your friends were gone.
That was the day you realized the severity of your friendship— or at least you and Colby’s friendship. The fact that all of you would do anything for each other, whether that was beating up an abuser, or putting your life on the line for the other person.
Ever since then, you and Colby had this undeniable tension between the two of you. It was weird, like something you couldn’t figure out. It was only made purely visible that night.
You’d never even kissed Colby, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it sometimes. Your usually able to hide it, your desire for the boy, except when your at parties.
Whenever you drink, it’s like everything has to come out the way you think it. Nothing like liquid courage, huh? That’s the exact reason you didn’t want to do the video.
You never stopped thinking about that night.
“Y/N?” You blinked at the touch against your arm, and Colby was looking at you with a slight confusion on his face. “You okay?” You notice the camera’s recording light and nod, sitting up with a smile. “I think it’s time to get drunk, huh?” He nudged you and you nod with a laugh “first question!”
One of your other friends was there reading the questions for you, and even though you thought you’d start off light, she did not give you a break.
“What’s the worst doing the dirty experience you’ve had?” Sam and Colby stare at each other for a second until one of them laughs, shaking their head with the dumbest response. Sam, of course makes a joke out of it but Colby has no shame in what he says, as always.
“One time I had a girl use a lot of teeth, and uh… we never talked again. It was very awkward” Sam hisses at the statement, which makes you laugh too. “What about you, Y/N?” Colby turns to you and your face almost turns red from the sudden eyes on you. Everyone in the room and the camera was waiting on you now.
“Uh… I guess the last time I was talking to a guy. I had to fake the whole thing and he finished quick so it just felt so awkward and it was silent the rest of the night” Colby and Sam raise their eyebrows at you but are laughing at the same time. They knew who you were talking about.
“Colby, why do you post with girls on social media and never tell the fans what’s going on?” The question takes all of you by surprise and Colby’s eyes go wide. That was exactly what happened with you and why you didn’t want to be on the channel that much anymore.
“Umm…” He laughs nervously, looking over at you for a split second. “Because sometimes, I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I’m just posting the post and maybe it turns into something or maybe it doesn’t?”
“It’s not like their your girlfriend” Sam interjects and Colby nods agreeably.
“Let’s just say if I had a girlfriend, you guys would know” After you guys are done with that question, your kind of sitting back and watching the two answer at that point. Except they had to drink once so you did too, now you were all one shot in.
“Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?” Everyone’s face is in shock in the room as they look at Colby, waiting for his answer. He laughs nervously again, looking over at same with wide eyes before sitting up.
“I uh… you know I-“
“Might have to drink on that one, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes at your words with a laugh, closing the alcohol bottle he was about to open.
“No, no. I um… I use them for personal fun. Yeah, that’s-“
“What the fuck does that mean” You and Sam burst out laughing but your friend shakes her head. “Judge says no. Drink!” Sam hands him the bottle and Colby’s face is now turning a slight red. A tint only you could see because of how close you were.
“I’ve used them for sexual fun” He says just as he’s about to pour the shot, but your friend rolls her eyes and nods that he doesn’t have to drink.
“That was luck” Colby nudges your arm and shrugs, that annoying smirk of his only making you laugh.
“Name two dirty kinks you have” The girl reads and all three of you are wide eyeing the camera. Sam curses under his breath and Colby is still in shock. It was still so early in the game, already?
“Wait, I’m not answering that. I already said one, right?” Sam agrees to Colby but the judge shakes her head. “Just one more then? I already day said one!”
“You go first, Y/N” Sam cuts off his clearly pressured friend and they both turn to you, but your face is an even deeper red then Colby’s now.
“Um… I don’t—I mean it’s been a long time so I don’t really know…”
“Oh come on, Everyone has them” Colby teases and you glare at him, letting out a sigh as you sat back on the couch.
Apart of you was afraid to tell them, because you’d never really been that open with them about sexual preferences. Sam wasn’t the one you were worried about, him and Katrina were perfectly locked in with each other and you knew whatever you said didn’t matter.
But with Colby, there was always this unspoken tension between the two of you. One you tried to ignore but always failed terribly when you’d see him make out with another girl. You were afraid he’d see right through you if you answered the question, and if there was one thing you couldn’t ignore,
It was the way he’d look at you.
“I think… I think choking is attractive, but like not too aggressively, you know?”
“So your submissive?” Colby’s words go through your ear and straight down. He was clearly trying to get to you with that question, and there it was again.
The tension between the two of you.
“Sometimes” You try to cover it up but you can feel his eyes piercing right through you, his smirk showing the small of his pearly white teeth that always made you blush. “What about you then, hmm? Mr. Talk shit” You push his face and the two of them laugh, but Colby is no longer embarrassed to say it.
“I like to be Dominant” He says to the camera and Sam blows air from his mouth, shake his head in disbelief. Colby isn’t looking at you on purpose. Oh god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
You lean back on the couch, scratching your nose to try and hide your burning hot cheeks from everyone’s eyes. It was like he was doing it on purpose. He was so clearly teasing you.
And you wished it wasn’t working, but it’s been so long that it’s impossible for your stomach not to twist into multiple knots.
Or at least that’s the excuse you gave yourself.
After many more questions and many more drinks, the alcohol started to take a toll on all three of you already. You had only had three shots and even the camera was hard to focus on. Sam and Colby’s eyes had been getting red but yours were harder to see because of your eyelashes.
“Who do you think is the most attractive clubhouse member besides Kat” Colby and your own eyes go wide and you both stare at Sam. Obviously he couldn’t answer that, but neither could you, right?
“None! Sorry, gotta drink to that. Can’t answer cause it ain’t true” Sam sasses the camera while opening the bottle. Colby laughs, both of you applauding your friend.
“Yeah, I’m gonna drink to that one as well” Colby reaches down to grab the other bottle from the floor, pouring it into his shot glass. “I can’t answer that, but I do have someone in mind” he cheers to the camera and his words alone make your stomach twist once again. It definitely wasn’t you, but saying something like that… after the other questions..
“What about you, Y/N?” The girl asks as the boys down their own shots. She raises an eyebrow, “might as well give us something here, right?” As much as you wanted to decline and run away embarrassed, you could feel the liquid courage increasing.
The way everyone looked at you, they all knew who it was. You leaned back with a huff, you could feel Colby’s eyes on you the entire time you were stalling, but when you looked at him, his eyes pierced through you.
“I think… I think I’ll drink too” Sam and Colby boo at you when you pour the shot. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t either so that must mean he doesn’t… feel the same, Right?
“I can’t even see the camera anymore, dude” Sam laughs at Colby’s words. Sam has more shots then the two of you so you’d imagine he’d be the one saying it, but of course it was Colby.
Maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that..
Towards the end of the video, all three of you were pretty drunk. Sam was the least, you were in the middle, and Colby… Jesus. Colby was so drunk.
“Fuck, man” Colby lays his head on the end table for just a second, you could tell his head was spinning. You rub his back, his body temperature is very warm. You look over to Sam and nod toward the camera, and Sam immediately understands.
“Maybe we should take a small break?”
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“Where are you going?” You ask Sam, watching him put on his jacket and grab his keys. You finished the video about 30 minutes ago and Colby was on the couch watching tv, while you had just changed into night clothes which really were only comfy shorts and a crop top like usual.
“I have to go stay at Kat’s tonight. We’re heading to her parents tomorrow morning” You hum, pouring a glass of water for yourself and one for Colby. You had forgotten Sam was going away for a few days. “Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone” You stop and look at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he’s just raising his eyebrows with a shrug, leaving you with the confusion of his statement.
He doesn’t… he can’t know, right? You weren’t that obvious.
“Water?” Your voice is enough to catch Colby’s attention from the tv. He was watching some random scary movie it looked like but you’d never seen it so you weren’t completely sure. You hand him the water and take a seat next to him, leaving a gap between the two of you. You had thought the tension would be gone by now but it clearly wasn’t, you could only hope it was just your overthinking.
“What’s up with you? You were being weird the whole video” His question makes you somewhat relieved. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it really was all just in your own head—but how were you meant to explain you couldn’t focus because of how badly you wanted him. Even now, he was leaned back on the couch, his hair messy from running his hands through it and his tattoos on full display for you to look at. Jesus, it felt like torture.
Why did you have to get drunk?
“I just didn’t feel good” You shrug, looking over at the tv and tilting the glass of water toward your lips. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to give him a real answer but he doesn’t push you. He only takes a sip of his water, turning back to the movie.
“Are you going home tonight?” You glance at the clock, it’s already 11. Should you? You have a room here, you didn’t really need to.
But did he want you to?
“I was planning on staying but if you don’t want me to-“
“I want you to stay” Your stomach twists, with excitement and somewhat nervousness at the same time. He was being direct but he wasn’t even looking at you. You wanted to stay and watch the movie with him, but the more you looked at him, the more the drunken side of you just wanted to kiss him.
You wanted him.
“Come here” You hesitate for a few seconds before placing your drink back on the glass table in front of you, moving to sit closer to the boy. His arm was laid on the back of the couch and he opens the blanket he’d been using to you. He wanted you close.
Your practically curled next to him by the middle of the movie, head laid in the crook of his neck and your legs sitting on top of his own. Not much had been said all movie, but Colby was getting more and more touchy as it went on.
His fingers traced shapes on your bare legs under the blanket, the cold metal of his rings sometimes brushing against your skin. He made it seem so normal, like it was an every day thing the two of you did together.
But this only made you so much hornier.
His scent radiates from his neck, and it was almost as if you wanted to kiss his neck right then and there. It was so alluring—He was so alluring to you.
And he knew it.
“Do you want to tell me why you were really acting weird today?” He asks again, looking down at the tent his hand made under the blanket while he caressed your leg.
You bite your bottom lip, looking at the blanket as well. You could feel the tingling feeling between your legs as his hand touched you farther, as if he had been testing the waters before actually saying anything.
“Colby…” You can’t help but pull your legs even closer together, and that alone is all he needed to tell him how you felt. “Not everything needs an explanation. It’s just… complicated”
“Complicated, huh?” He hums sarcastically, in a knowing form. You bite your lip as you watch him rub his temple, frustration radiating off of him. “You know, For the longest time, I tried to let this whole thing go out of respect for you, Y/N” He mumbled, his voice low and husky with passion. God, he sounded so hot. Even if he was upset, you just couldn’t help yourself. “I always thought it would be you and Sam” He lets out a huffed chuckle, still keeping his eyes on his lap. “But I want it to be me”
What?
No. He isn’t… he doesn’t mean what you think, right? Colby Brock isn’t confessing his feelings for you, right?
“Colby, what’s wrong with you?” His body tenses when you ask that stupid question. What’s wrong with him? Like you didn’t know.
“What’s wrong with me? What about you?” He finally turns his head to look at you, his drunken, sad and very horny eyes staring lasers into yours. “You can’t seriously sit here and believe yourself when you ask me that question” You couldn’t think. You didn’t even move for awhile because of your lack of words or thoughts for that matter. You wanted to give in, but you were also so terrified of if it wasn’t real.
“Colby, I’m not the person you want. Trust me, you will figure that out soon enough” He scoffs as you get off the couch, trying to at least relieve some of the tension between the two of you. Colby was so tired of waiting, but you were just too scared.
“How do you know what I want? You’ve barely spoke to me the past few weeks!” The boy calls after you when your walking away from the couch, his voice only makes you stop. “You’ve been weird for weeks, Y/N. Don’t ask me what’s wrong with me when you can’t even tell me how you feel”
“Colby, I don’t know how I feel!” You turn around with frustration, staring at the back of his head. He was still sat on the couch, and part of you hoped he stayed there—but another part wanted him to go after you. “I haven’t just been distant because of you-“
“That’s such bullshit and you know it” He stands, turning to look at you. You were far too drunk for this. You could feel the unnecessary tears already filling your eyes, you didn’t want to argue with him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me that—then I’ll let it go”
“Can we please just talk about this tomorrow-“
“You know what I think? I think your just scared of feeling weak. Your scared of letting someone in, Y/N. And the past few weeks we’ve been getting closer than before, that’s why your distant now. That’s your biggest weakness” Colby scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the couch and slipping it on with ease. You furrow your eyebrows as he walks toward you, and past you.
You grab his arm, “Colby, your drunk. Don’t go out, Please” he’s avoiding your eyes but you can see the chisel on his jaw, clenching with what you thought had been anger. “I don’t know how to do this, Colby. I… I can’t even bring myself to say the words I want to say to you” He tears his arm away from you, snatching his keys from the countertop. No. You couldn’t let it end like that—not when you have so much to say. “Okay, fine!”
“You want the truth, Colby? For years all I felt for you for you, all in silence because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with Sam and Each other. I watched you with other girls since we were juniors! I couldn’t stand you, but yet I also couldn’t stand to be without you. Everywhere I go, I always want you with me—and when i’d see you with other girls, it would make me feel stupid, like my feelings meant nothing to you even if you didn’t know”
“How was I supposed to tell you that? How was I supposed to tell you that even after everything that’s happened, I still can’t stop loving you!” Your confession slips like words of anger said in an heated argument. Colby still wasn’t looking at you, which only made your heart ache even worse. You just poured your heart out to him—couldn’t he at least look at you?
“When you got put in the hospital during senior year, I was there every fucking second with you! I cried, Colby! I was a mess for days, and Sam was the one who had to juggle the two of us!” You remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day you’d gotten into a huge argument with Sam about your feelings for Colby. Sam always knew of both your feelings, but he didn’t say anything to the other. If you were going to admit, it had to be to each other. “I’m usually so good at hiding how I feel, but I’m getting so tired of it. The Same repeating cycle I just-“
“Why didn’t you just tell me, Y/N. Why didn’t you-“
“Are you serious? After all those talks we had about you not caring for a relationship and not wanting a future with someone? You were practically telling me no! I wanted to tell you but then you started going to parties more and kissing girls and-“
“Y/N”
“It hurt me, Colby. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It would physically hurt my chest to see you kiss another girl after flirting with me for DAYS. You played with my head and I know I played with yours too but-“
“Y/N, I’m-“
“No matter how hard I try or how many guys I find, there’s nothing for me. I can’t… I can’t move past you and it fucking sucks” You hadn’t even realized he moved until you were done talking. He was close now—close enough to hear his breathing if you’d been quiet enough. Your heart shatters with every passing moment that’s goes silent. You knew you couldn’t be the same after this, so you begged in your mind for him to say something.
Only he didn’t say anything, and for a moment you actually thought he’d leave you there alone.
But you two were meant to love each other, Remember?
A silent moan escapes your mouth as he crashes his lips into your own, the sound muffled by his. The kiss is filled with so much passion it could make one’s heart explode if you weren’t too careful, it felt like the two of you had been waiting years to do this.
Which you were.

After the first kiss, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Colby pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as you continued to make out with the dark haired boy. His large hands cupped your ass, and soon enough you felt your back hit the cold wall. One of your hands were laid on the side of his neck while the other held the back of his hair, tugging on it slightly.
It had only been a few seconds ago you were sitting watching a movie—how in the hell did you both get here so quick?
He carried you to the couch, sitting down so you could straddle his lap instead of holding yourself up against his waist.
His hands release your ass and move up your back, slipping under your shirt to unclip your bra.
Colby smirks against your lips and removes his hand from your shirt, lifting your chin to pull away from the kiss. “Dirty girl” You hum as his lips attach to your neck, his comment making you all the more wet then you already were. You didn’t put a bra on—and Colby seemed to have really liked that you didn’t. “You make such pretty sounds—wish I could’ve heard them sooner”
You can feel the hardness under you, and the more you grind on him, the more you can feel his grip on you tighten. It didn’t hurt—it just turned you on even more.
“Colby, Please” You plead breathlessly. You wanted him to do more then just kiss your neck. You wanted him to take you to his room, to do everything he’d do to someone else. “You don’t have to be gentle with me” you tug his hair gently, meeting his lust filled eyes. You were desperate for him and you didn’t care, you’d waited since junior year to have your way with him—to have him want you.
“I’ll leave marks all over you, Y/N” he says in a slightly warning tone as if he didn’t want to completely destroy you in that moment, but you shake your head, grabbing his hand that slipped to the waistband of your sleeper shorts.
“I just want to feel something” You say in a tone he’d never heard you in before, one that made him want you even worse then before. You slip your hand off his own and place it on his chiseled chest, feeling the crease of his abs all the way down until you reached his belt. You wanted him, you just wanted him to know that. “I want to feel you, Colby. I want you”
“You want me to treat you like everyone else?” You hesitate but nod after a few seconds, slipping off his lap to stand to your feet. He stands in front of you, his height making a clear difference above you. His expression hadn’t changed yet, he was so hard to read. “I won’t do that, Y/N” Before you could say anything, he was already picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist again, crashing his lips back into yours as he made his way to his room.
This man… you didn’t know how to describe the feeling you had when he kissed you, but it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so different from everyone else you’d been with, and you didn’t know why.
You did. Deep down you knew why he made you feel the way he did. Colby was the only guy you truly wanted. Even when you had a boyfriend, you still wanted him instead.
He drops you onto his bed, removing his black wife beater and throwing it to the side, revealing his tattooed body you’ve grown to love looking at. He looked so good in this lighting, and the way his hair fell messy over his forehead—you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild.
“I want you, Y/N. I need to know I have all of you—that your only for me” You pick your head up to look at him briefly, fingers playing with the string of his pants. “I won’t treat you like some random slut when your not”
The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin made you shiver, it made you feel as if this might’ve not been real, maybe a dream after all. But after seeing his face and feeling his hand stop just above your waistline, everything felt at ease.
“I’ve always been yours, Colby Brock” That was all he needed to hear, all he needed to give into you.
And soon enough, here you were again, pinned against the bed while Colby’s hands grip your waist, peppering sweet kisses against your neck. You almost couldn't hold it in.
Your hand slowly found its way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair as his wandering hands went right under your shorts. You knew what you were doing with the outfit, and it only made him laugh just thinking about it.
“Please, Colby. I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me all of you” you were smirking to yourself, biting your nail like this was somewhat funny to you. Colby didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you for anyone else.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the beds cloth, closing you between him. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.
“I’m tired of waiting” The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.
“Colby” You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.
“You are so fucking hot, Jesus” He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he’d had that dream many, many times before.
“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big—he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.
“I know you have” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted Colby Brock to let everyone know you were his.
“Nothings stopping me from walking out that door” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “I’ll find someone else—someone who hasn’t played with me for years” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.
“You’ve waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. “This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you’d give me after I’d make out with randoms—you were so jealous, Sweetheart” Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance. Colby knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? “All those times, you could’ve just told me you wanted me and I would’ve given it all to you. Nobody else”
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. I have you now” His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.
His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.
He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.
“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “Fucking hell, Colby” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.
But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.
Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.
“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t squirm. Colby was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.
“I can take it” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “C-Colby, let me-“
“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.
“You taste so fucking good, Y/N” His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.
“Please, please—Colby, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”
Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?
“Let go for me, Pretty girl” In only seconds, you’re coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Colby’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.
“Colby!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.
He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn’t used on you.
You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips—to which you copied his action from before, staring into his dark eyes as you did.
“Good girl” He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God… it was so fucking hot.
Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.
“Let me” You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.
“I need you. Right here, Right now” His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. His room was slightly dark, only lit by the strip of LED’s above his bed frame.
“I want to be yours, Colby. Make me yours, please” Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he’d never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you’re quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.
“After we do this, everything will change” He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower—right where he wanted you the entire time.
His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he’s wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.
“I love you, Colby. There’s no change in that” You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more
meaning—the kiss after you’d admit your feelings for one another.
He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he’s already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.
Fuck. He was going to ruin you.
Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn’t care if it hurt at first.
You just wanted him.
From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.
“Mmm” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.
Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.
“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “Colbs…Colby” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.
“Starting to feel good?” He hums while you nod, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “God, you feel so good” one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the shirt covering your upper half, just wanting to rip in off of you.
“Take it off, baby” Your breathless words are too late when he’s already slipping it off your now fully bare body, completely discarding it to the floor next to him. Jesus, you were so perfect.
“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the curves of your body… you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.
“Mmm!” Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn’t hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn’t care. It was just you and him, nobody else.
His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Colby! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don’t care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. “It’s so good… fuck! You’re so fucking good!”
“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.
Which he did.
“Gonna come…! Colby, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.
“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole neighborhood knows who’s fucking you this good—so ever man knows your mine” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”
“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Colby…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.
“That’s it, Baby. Good girl” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me”
“Colby… please—Jesus-“
“You can whine all you want, but your body is calling mine for more. You want more” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? I’m only giving you what you want” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?
He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.
He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This is what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.
“fuck! Right there! Please, Colby—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, baby” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.
“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Pretty girl. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, just like that, my love” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.
“Colby, I’m gonna come… oh my god” You whine into the sheet, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He’s a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you. “Come with me. Please, don’t hold out on me”
The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.
“I fucking love you, Y/N. My girl, come for me and only me, yeah?” You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and neither could he. “I’m right behind you”
Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.
“Colby… Colby!” His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You wanted all of him, just as you said.
“Fuck…!” He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.
For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy—lips parted.
It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and Colby leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.
You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn’t be weird…
“Come here” He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.
“Colby…” You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing the tattoo on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as if you’re about to ruin the amazing night you had—but you had to say it. “Where do we go from here..?”
Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn’t even see the obvious answer. Colby made it clear what he wanted. He couldn’t go back to normal with you—not after this night.
“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I’ve always wanted that” He pushes your hair away from your face, placing his finger under your chin to lift it. “Please tell me that’s what you want too”
Your eyes soften at his hesitant tone, grabbing the hand that sat under your chin to intertwine your fingers. Of course you wanted that. It was all you ever wanted.
You nod
“Sam is going to be so happy”
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Just a little something different 😉. See y’all whenever :))
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eggcromancer · 2 months ago
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Okay hear me out, a lot of Y/N x DCA fics has Y/N replacing Vanessa as the night guard; But what *if* I make them work besties instead? 👀
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full credits to @way2gosuperrstarr for the technician y/n & night guard vanny brainworms! (I'll be charging you rent later!! 💥💥💥 //affectionate)
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itsthecline · 1 month ago
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THIS COULD BE US
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I DO NOT GET JEALOUS
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ topper’s birthday was practically made out to be a national holiday on the island. you had gotten your mother to lend you the yacht , having a more intimate party earlier for dinner. rafe and kelce set up the condo for the actual party. everything was going smooth. until it wasn’t.
word count 5.8k
warnings profanity , jealous!reader and kinda jealous!rafe , mentions of chlamydia , underage drinking , pda ( just kissing and grabbing ) , smut ( oral male!receiving in car , oral fem!receiving , unprotected pinv , spanking (1) , facial ) , and i think that’s it
MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY
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IN TOPPER fashion , his birthday party has a theme and dress code. white party , white clothes , white fucking yacht. and because it was his birthday , and he was one of your best friends , you gave in to every single demand he had.
he wanted a dj? done. he wanted the men to women ratio at a happy 1:3? done. he wanted a specific dish created by a specific chef from the mainland? done. he demanded a bouncer to stand at the front door of rafe’s condo for hours just so no ruffians get inside? done.
you were busting your ass to make sure his birthday was going perfectly , and you were doing a damn good job. good enough that it made you think you wanted this exact party for your own twenty-first. you had lost track of him once or twice already. dinner just finished , and he went missing again. grabbing a drink of your own , to relax a little bit after how much work you had been putting into this one night.
“look at miss event coordinator. i know you’re not drinking on the job,” kelce joked , walking up to you with rafe as you sipped your gin and tonic.
“it’s my boat. i’ll drink when i want,” you retorted , side hugging the boy before moving to rafe and hugging him as well, “do you think top’s enjoying himself? he keeps disappearing.”
“oh yeah. he’s enjoying himself alright. enjoying himself with ruthie , chloe , harper , and i think he’s enjoying himself with tabitha right now,” rafe chuckled lowly , taking a swig of his own drink to hide his suggestive smile.
you theatrically gagged , smacking rafe’s arm. “you’re all disgusting. this is my mom’s boat,” you groaned, “i expected you not to fornicate on it.”
“like you haven’t?” kelce quipped , recalling the time you and your ex boyfriend had gone at it so rough one night you had to replace the railing on the sun deck.
“my boat!” you huffed , giggling with them as they laughed at you.
“well , i came over here to let you know we’re good to dock whenever top is. house is all set up,” rafe cleared his throat , seeing topper emerge from the cabin, “there’s the birthday boy!” he cheered , calling topper over.
“guys! i have gotten four separate blowies. this is the best birthday ever,” he slurred his words after he wobbled over to the three of you, “y/n/n , you’re the best for planning everything for me,” he smiled , pressing a slobbery kiss to your temple.
you smiled , discreetly wiping the spit from yourself before wrapping your arm around his waste. “you only turn twenty-one once,” you shrugged, “you ready to go to the actual party?”
“oh , for sure! maybe i’ll get laid four times!” topper laughed , dapping kelce up all the while.
“you’re all pigs!” you scoffed lightly , making your way to the helm, “be back!”
the guests that were scattered around moved to let you walk through without asking , and not long after that you were all headed back to figure eight. you and the boys helped topper off the boat and back onto solid land , his stability not getting any better. the sun hadn’t even set , so you knew in a few hours he would be passed out in one of the guest rooms at rafe’s condo.
it wasn’t long until the house was filled with people. the music was going , playing all of topper’s favorite songs along with the party classics. everyone was drinking and having fun in celebration for topper , and you couldn’t be happier.
for one : you pulled off what looked to be the best twenty-first birthday in kildare. but more importantly , you could stop hosting and have fun yourself. your wedges smacked against the marble flooring as you made your way to the bar. “can i have a tequila soda with a lime? and just a shot as well , please?” you ordered sweetly , silently thanking the bartender for coming to you first despite other people waiting for drinks.
he handed you the shot first , allowing you take it before you got your drink. you throw the shot back , letting it glide down your throat without getting you to make a face. the bartender smiled at that , mixing your drink quickly.
you turned around , leaning against the bar after thanking him. your eyes scanned the crowd. people dancing in the living room , suck and blow happening in the kitchen , swimming and chicken fights in the pool. everything looked good. everything was good.
except you didn’t have not one of your boys with you. you looked around for kelce or rafe. you had seen topper stumble upstairs with a pretty redhead a few minutes ago , but you hadn’t really seen rafe or kelce since you told them to check on a few things before the party even really started.
your brows furrowed , truly not seeing either one. but the crease in your forehead deepened when you found rafe. he was lounging on the couch , legs spread and arms on the back. he was in a group , a couple of guys you knew from school , and a few girls you recognized as well. you watched from a distance , sipping on your drink slowly. you noticed how crystal— if you remembered correctly , was laughing harder than need be , touching rafe’s body in any way she could.
and you don’t know what you would call it— it was jealousy , but something in the pit of your stomach burned. your skin felt hot , your eyes rolling all on their own. because there rafe was hanging out with people that weren’t you when your song was playing. the track made the playlist several times because it was your song. and he wasn’t even looking for you?
“can i get another shot please?” you turned around and asked the bartender. he nodded , pouring one out before sliding it to you.
you downed it easier than the first , setting the glass back down on the counter before drinking the rest of your actual drink. you pivoted on your foot , heading straight toward the couch. like usual , people shifted to the side to let you pass. even if they hadn’t , you weren’t too sure that you wouldn’t have run them right over.
rafe saw you in his peripheral , saw you storming over in your comically— to him , high wedges and silky , white dress. your tits practically jumping out of the material as you stomped.
he looked up at you and smiled when you arrived , but was quickly taken aback when you planted yourself in his lap. his arm came down to wrap around your waist naturally , but during his movement , your own hands came up to his face and pulled him in for a kiss.
you didn’t know you were going to do that. originally , in your head , you were just going to storm over and pout. this was much different than that. but rafe didn’t hesitate to kiss you back , hand on your waist squeezing your body closer to his. he groaned into it , tongue licking your lips before you opened your mouth.
neither one of you were aware how long you were making out when you pulled away , breathing heavily in each other’s faces. until crystal— still you weren’t too sure , cleared her throat.
“oh , hey!” you smiled , leaning into rafe’s touch. his cheeks were still burning from the shock of you traipsing over to stake your claim. he knew what it was the moment he saw the pout in your lips.
the girl was blushing on her own , not realizing that you and rafe had finally gotten together after years of being just friends. “hi,” she muttered awkwardly.
“did you end up taking care of that raging case of chlamydia yet , babes?” you asked , voice sweeter than syrup. crystal— presumably , dropped her jaw , eyebrows tight.
“excuse me?” she scoffed , shocked you would say something like that , but more shocked that you knew.
“oh , did i get that wrong?” you fake worried , hand coming up to your heart, “i thought i heard les and gigi talking about it at the club a couple weeks ago , but maybe it wasn’t you?” you flipped your hair over your shoulder , showing her that you truly didn’t care.
maybe you were a mean girl like everyone said.
“no,” she stated coldly, “it wasn’t me.” she stood up , grabbing her purse and phone before rushing away.
you smiled as soon as she turned , not bothered by her leaving. that was the whole point.
“ooh , you’re mean , pretty kitty,” rafe chuckled beside you , his other hand coming to your thigh and rubbing up and down.
he always called you that. kitty. he said it was because you had claws but looked so sweet at the same time. you harassed him for having a pet-play kink until you realized the term of endearment was quite cute. special just for you.
“what?” you shrugged , looking at him like the last thing you said wasn’t fowl, “i made it up , but i guess the topic hit home for her , so it’s probably best she left anyway.”
rafe rolled his eyes with a smile before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for another kiss. you squealed into his lips at the sudden movement , body shifting in his lap. your hand landed on his chest to catch yourself , and you let your body melt into his.
“you all jealous i’m not paying attention to ya , kitty. green isn’t your color,” he told you , pulling back from the sloppy kiss.
you sat back , offended he would ever accuse you of such a thing. “that’s not true , rafey. you know that,” you whined , lightly— barely at all , hitting his chest in protest of his statement.
“which part?”
“all of it,” you decided with a firm shake of your head, “i do not get jealous , and i always have your attention,” you added , leaning in for another kiss, “and i do look good in green.
“i know , i know. the elusive y/n y/l/n never gets jealous,” rafe played along , kissing you gently as his hand slid further up your thigh, “but i do.”
“what do you mean?” you hummed , moving your lips to kiss at his face and the side of his neck now.
“saw the bartender making eyes at you,” rafe murmured , sighing at the last kiss you planted right behind his ear, “the help was eyeing you.”
“it’s the twenty-first century , rafe. we don’t call them the help anymore,” you reminded him with a roll of his eyes and another inch of skin discovered by his hand, “and besides , i wasn’t focused on him. i was watching you.”
rafe smiled , heart beating faster when you so openly said that he had your attention. of course as friends , you always let the boys know how much you loved and appreciated them. but this was different. this was just for rafe— no one else.
“you missed our song,” you mumbled into his neck , not wanting him to hear that you were disappointed in your voice.
“i was singing along in my head,” he assured you , running his hand up and down your back.
you sighed , taking in the feeling of his hands on you , the warmth they spread throughout your body. “since i’m not allowed to talk to the bartender , will you go get me another drink , rafey?” you asked sweetly , only shifting your head a little bit to let him hear you clearer. you also translated his earlier jealousy of the bartender to making it clear he didn’t want you around him again. that’s how it usually went.
“whatever you want , kitty,” he agreed , pressing a kiss into your temple before tapping you leg to get you up.
rafe stood as well , now towering over you. his drunken smile making him look even better than he did before. you smiled back at him , batting your lashes before he rolled his eyes and yanked you in for another kiss. “don’t make me wait long,” you warned him , ending the kiss and ushering him to the bar.
happily , you sat back down to wait. your solitary peace was quickly disrupted by kelce and topper flopping down next to you.
“four blowjobs and one fuck! best birthday ever,” topper congratulated himself once again , hair messy and lips swollen.
“you’re such a slut , top,” you laughed , getting more comfortable now that you and rafe were most likely hanging out in the living room for longer, “what did you do pop a v?” you joked , causing both boys to laugh like he had in fact taken a viagra.
“speaking of slut…” kelce began with a cheeky little smile. it said he knew something juicy , and topper was all over it.
“what? who fucked who?” he asked , wanting to know exactly what happened and when and where and why.
kelce laughed , nudging you gently. “miss penthouse over here was mackin’ on our boy,” he sold you out , grinning ear to ear, “thought it would never happen.”
“and i missed it?” topper whined , throwing his head back and resting it on the couch, “i always wanted to be there the day you and rafe got together.”
you frowned at topper , feeling oh so bad for him until you flicked his throat , causing him to sit up straight and cough. “you’re a perv,” you stated, “and you too , kel. didn’t know you liked watching.”
“oh , i’d watch you do just about anything , baby,” he flirted , knowing it would make you roll your eyes. that’s how you and the boys were. they flirted with you jokingly ; you called them pigs. it was your dynamic.
“you’re not watching her do jack shit from now on,” rafe spoke , smacking kelce upside the head as he handed you your full glass. you got up , letting him take his place before falling into his lap.
kelce laughed , dapping his friend up. “man , you know i’m not going anywhere near your girl.”
“excuse me! i’m still a human being,” you interrupted, “actually i’m one of your very few friends. please act accordingly,” you playfully reached out and punched his arm.
“so who’s taking who’s last name?” topper asked , grabbing a beer that was sitting on the table and chugging it. gross.
you grimaced at the sight. “maybe you should focus on not drinking random drinks , t,” you suggested , feeling rafe’s hand creep up your thigh again , drawing small patterns on the plush skin.
“i’m the birthday boy. i can do whatever i want!” topper roared , throwing his hands up in the air triumphantly.
“you’re gonna get roofied one of these days,” you shook your head.
“here’s hoping! it’d probably make my night ten times crazier,” topper laughed , finishing the beer and setting the cup back down.
the four of you sat and chatted for a bit , appreciating the time you weren’t being bothered and you could simply enjoy the party. rafe had been pressing kisses into your skin , making his way from your shoulders to your neck while topper and kelce dove down their own conversation.
“we should go,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear before nibbling at your ear, “soon.” he lifted his hips up with you still in his lap , making the hard on in his slacks known.
you turned in his grasp , giving him a knowing look. “i don’t hookup with boys on the first night,” you reminded him.
“this isn’t the first night,” rafe corrected you , moving some of your hair out of your face and behind your ear, “i’ve been thinkin’ bout this forever. by myself , with other people , when i’m with you. it’s not the first night for me , and i can guarantee it isn’t for you either.” he made a very fair point.
you hummed , taking it into consideration. “but it’s topper’s birthday,” you reasoned , looking over just as he and kelce went outside to the pool. the blonde jumped in , splashing people with the water before coming up for air and yelling out. the crowd cheered as kelce joined him.
“don’t think he’s too worried bout us leaving,” rafe commented , looking at the way topper already had a girl in his arms to make out with.
you pushed yourself up from rafe’s lap and the couch. rafe scrambled to get up , thinking that you were about to leave without him. “c’mon then,” you spoke , grabbing his hand in yours and leading him away from the party. the closer you got to his car , the quieter everything got. like being with rafe silenced everything else. it did for you.
like always , rafe opened your door for you , letting you get settled into the seat designated for you before shutting the door and getting in himself. it took a decent amount of time to get to the hotel. rafe lived on figure eight , which was the more local side of the island. you lived in your penthouse on the more west side of the island , where all of the tourons got off the ferry and onto the sand.
rafe never minded the drive , knowing it was helping you out. but tonight? he was speeding in an attempt to get there faster.
his hand was gripping your thigh , kneading it in his grip. it slipped under your dress about halfway to your place , pinky finger reaching out to touch the delicate material you wore beneath it. he didn’t do anything more though.
it wasn’t like him , but he wasn’t about to finger bang you in his car. you weren’t that type of girl to him. you weren’t a quick fuck he met at a party. no , you were his girl. and his girl deserved more than that. at least the first time. maybe tomorrow he would suggest it on the way back to his house.
but you had had enough of the teasing and gentle touches. with a roll of your eyes , you unbuckled and shifted in your seat to face rafe entirely. your hand reached over to his own lap , tracing the outline of his boner.
“and what’re you doing?” rafe questioned with a smirk, “hm?”
“it’s a long drive , and i’m bored,” you answered plainly , undoing his belt and pulling the zipper of his slacks down, “so i wanna kill some time. that okay?” you looked at him with those big eyes , and he had this exact dream not that long ago , so of course he wasn’t going to say no. especially not when you were already pulling him out of his briefs.
“do whatever you want to me , kitty cat. m’all yours,” he nodded , thrusting his hips up involuntarily when your hand started pumping him.
you hummed contentedly , leaning over the center console to take the tip of him into your mouth. you pressed a sweet kiss to it first , licking your lips clean of the precum he was dripping with , and when rafe whined , you knew you would do this every day of your life moving forward if you could.
you sucked at the tip , hand still moving up and down in tandem with the suction before slowly taking more of him in. you didn’t mind the fact that his hips shifted up every once in a while , forcing you to take him further. you liked it , liked knowing he couldn’t control his body.
“fuck , baby. mouth feels fuckin’ perfect,” rafe moaned out , removing one of his hands from the wheel to the hem of your dress. he flipped it up , exposing your panties to the ac of his car before his fingers trailed down to your center , feeling the wet patch that had taken property of the material.
you moaned when his fingers applied pressure , encouraging you to take him down your throat entirely. your nose brushed against the hair at the base and your throat contracted around his cock , almost causing you to gag before you hummed and pulled off of him. your hand kept up its ministrations , spreading your spit around as you twisted your wrist , earning a solid smack on your ass.
maybe he would fuck you in the car.
“want you to cum in my mouth , rafey,” you admitted , looking at him through your watery lashes for just a moment of eye contact before going back down to his lap and swallowing him again.
“keep going then , baby. so close,” rafe groaned , pulling your underwear to the side to truly feel you, “got yourself all worked up just from sucking my dick?” it almost came out humorously , but it wasn’t that. rafe was just so gobsmacked that you were this wet from a few touches and kisses.
you hummed again around him , bobbing your head up and down fast , taking him all the way each time. it was a lot , but it wasn’t anything you weren’t completely willing to handle.
“fuck , fuck,” he grunted , removing his fingers from your needy clit to reach the top of your head. he didn’t push you down any further , just held you there for a moment. “gonna cum , baby. you gonna swallow it all for me like a good girl?”
you nodded around him , feeling the first few drops of his release land on your tongue before the rest came flooding your mouth. you tried to pull back , needing more room in your mouth for the load he was depositing there , but he held your head firm. “stay right there,” he moaned , the after shocks of his orgasm hitting as his cum started to spill from your mouth and run down the length of him.
you blinked away the tears and did your best to breath through your nose until he let go of you. his hand returned to you , rubbing and gripping at your ass. you immediately pulled yourself off of him , gasping and swallowing his cum before leaning over again to lick him clean.
“fuck! you’re so good,” rafe laughed , guiding your head up as he came to a red light. he adjusted himself back into his pants before looking over to you. your mascara had started to run a little , roughing up the sleek edge you always tried to maintain. you had spit dribbling down your chin that you were wiping at. “prettiest thing in the obx,” he added , moving to press a kiss to you lips.
you whined into the kiss , shifting to be as close to him as possible. “drive faster,” you said against his lips , needing him now more than ever.
just like that , the light turned green , and you both thanked the universe. that was a good sign.
the light wasn’t too far from your place , so the drive was only a few more minutes. during that time , you readjusted yourself , conjuring up your image again like it was nothing. you didn’t even look like you just took rafe’s cock down you throat. luckily , that was the goal. you didn’t want you mom to find out from the concierge that her daughter was a whore who gave boys road head before taking them up to your suite and having your way with them.
no , she wouldn’t approve.
soon enough , rafe was parking in your designated parking spot near the entrance of the hotel. he didn’t waste any time before jumping out and rushing to let you out of the truck as well. you kissed him politely when he did out of thanks.
your hands found each other again as you lead him inside the hotel. he had been there hundreds of times , but the adrenaline running through his veins and straight to the tent in his pants was different. he wasn’t coming over to hang out with you or to pick you up. he was staying over because you had finally kissed him. after years of wanting you and pushing that greed to the side , he had you. you were his.
and no , neither of you said it , but you both always knew. you more subconsciously than him. he was painfully aware of his feelings for you , and he was okay with waiting. because look at where it got him.
a hello from the front desk and a sloppy makeout in the private elevator later you were entering your home.
you walked into the kitchen , knowing rafe would either follow you or go straight to your room. you grabbed a couple of water bottles and headed to the bedroom , which rafe did choose over the kitchen.
“making yourself at home?” you chuckled , setting the waters down on your bedside table as you took in the sight of rafe getting comfortable in your bed.
“what? you gonna kick me out?” he laughed with you as you made your way to him , crawling up the bed to straddle him.
“never,” you whispered , leaning in to kiss him again. this one was the softest of them all , the slowest more sensual one of the night.
rafe’s hands found purchase on your hips , pushing your down into his own for friction. you both groaned at the feeling , not breaking the kiss.
“you done talkin’ to girls at parties?” you asked him , pulling away and swirling your hips as your hands rubbed at his chest.
his eyes were closed , head fallen back in the satin pillows. “never liked ‘em anyway,” he nodded , fingers tightening on your waist when you moved just right.
“i mean it,” you reiterated , slowing your movements.
“me too,” rafe assured you , sitting up and holding onto you, “they were never you. never could be,” he whispered , kissing you gently again before flipping you over, “you done flirting with bartenders?”
“i never have,” you giggled as he nipped at your neck , grinding his hips into yours.
“then i think we can agree , it’s just me and you,” rafe’s voice came out shaky— whether it was the nerves of exclusivity or the way you felt under him.
your smile widened as you tilted your head. “is the big bad rafe cameron asking me somethin’?” you teased him as he pulled away to look at you.
“kitty,” he began , his own smile forming if it ever truly left. you bit your lip in anticipation. you knew rafe , knew he couldn’t ask you what he wanted.
“it’s fine , rafe,” you nodded meekly, “promise.”
and ignoring the pinch in your stomach , you pulled him back in for a kiss that he dodged to make his mark on your body.
“sorry” he mumbled into your skin , biting and sucking at your neck down to your collarbone, “i wanna. i promise,” he spoke so softly , moving lower and lower down your chest, “but you know you’re my girl , right?” he looked up at you as he slid your dress up to your stomach. his fingers traced the hem of your underwear , causing you to take a deep breath in. “right?” he echoed , hooking his fingers to pull them down your legs.
“yeah,” you nodded , waiting for him to touch you again. his kisses started on your thighs , holding them open as he moved your legs over his shoulders.
“good girl using your words,” he chuckled , sticking his tongue out and swiping it through your folds once slowly before sucking your clit into his mouth. your head fell back , jaw open to let out a whiney moan , one you’d been holding in all night.
you knew about rafe and his experience. you knew because you were best friends who told each other everything. with that in mind , you had no clue he ate pussy like a starved man , like you were oxygen and he had been underwater for too long.
when he slid a finger into you , you tensed up a little , not expecting the stretch yet. “relax , baby,” he chastised you , diving back in to mouth at your clit to get you to let your muscles untense. and god , it felt good. too good.
“fuck , fuck! rafe , stop. stop , stop,” you rushed out , pushing his head away from you , and he immediately pulled away and sat up.
“what’s wrong?” he worried , searching your face for anything.
you giggled , pulling him in to kiss you. “i want you to fuck me,” you told him , hand going to the tent in his pants again, “that’s what we came here for , right? so fuck me so i can come on your cock,” you whispered in his ear.
the man didn’t waste any time. he tore his pants off , slipping out of his shit just as fast while you undressed yourself , giggling the whole time.
“what’re you laughin’ at , kitty?” rafe asked despite chuckling with you as he found his way back on top of you. he left his hand guide himself to your entrance , promptly stopping any laughter coming from your lips. he slid his cock through your folds , up and down until you were whining.
“rafey…” you sighed , using your leg hooked around his hips to pull him closer.
and he couldn’t deny you any longer. not with that look on your face. not with the cadence of your voice. not with how wet you were. as rafe slid himself in , completely to the hilt , you both groaned in sync. he paused , stilling inside of you to give you both a second. lord knows he needed one. “you okay , baby?” he asked gently , kissing at your neck. he still hadn’t moved , breathing deep.
“mhm , want you to fuck me,” you nodded , maneuvering to kiss him on the lips. your tongues fought for dominance as you made out , rafe’s hips starting to move.
his thrusts were harsh— deep and hard. the type that forced moans out of your mouth with each one. your head thrown back gave rafe the chance to mark your neck more. he grunted in your ear , hot breath hitting your skin as he gripped so tight on your hips he was sure there would be bruises there too.
“you’re so fucking perfect,” rafe moaned , holding himself up to fully look at you, “pretty fuckin’ kitty , wanting me to fuck you so bad , huh?” he was smiling the whole time. he moved around , sitting back and pulling your legs together. he kissed at your calves , slamming into your faster harder than before.
your mouth was left open , moans and whines and borderline screams flying out freely. “fuck! so fucking deep , rafe. feels so good,” you babbled , hands gripping the sheets in your hands.
“yeah? you like that , baby?” he grunted , wetting his thumb with his tongue before moving it to rub at your clit in time with his thrusts, “squeezin’ me so tight,” he moaned , letting his head drop back in ecstasy just for a moment before focusing again.
“i’m so close! right there , right fucking there!” you alerted him , hands coming up to grab at your tits.
“ahh , that’s it,” rafe hissed , not changing a thing he was doing, “cum on my cock , baby. fucking cum for me.”
his words only helped throw you off the edge. you squealed , moving you legs down from his shoulders in an attempt to get away from his assaults as you came down.
rafe didn’t stop though. no , he just grabbed your thighs and yanked you back toward him , continuing to fuck himself into you throughout your high. it was when your moans turned from pleasure to the smallest amount of pain from the overstimulation that he pulled out.
breathing heavy , your eyelids dropped as you tried to come back to reality. that idea was short lived as rafe flipped you onto your stomach.
“i’m not done yet , baby,” he warned you , adjusting the way your body was splayed on the bed. once he had you the way he wanted , he straddled your thighs. he jerked himself off a couple of times and sheathed himself back inside you.
your body welcomed him with ease , letting him slide into you with no push back at all. “fuck,” you groaned , burying your face in and holding onto your pillows.
rafe took that as a sign you were ready and began fucking into you again. he didn’t hold back this time , using your body the way he wanted. but there was a certain moan you heard come from his lips along with a stutter of his hips that reminded you he wasn’t wearing a condom.
your hand flew back to his hips , pushing him out of you before you rolled yourself onto your back. “come on my face,” you blurted , panting with him. he ran a hand down with a groan his face before shifting up your body. his thighs pushing your tits up as he jerked himself off in front of you.
your hand replaced his , still wanting to be the reason he finished. you stuck your tongue out and closed your eyes when the first few drops hit your skin , squeezing a little more until he was coming completely undone.
“fuck , kitty. yes , yes , yes,” he whimpered , gripping the back of your head and bringing your mouth to his dick again, “take it just like that. yeah,” he grunted , cock twitching in your mouth as you drained him.
when rafe felt like he could move again , he shifted to the side , clambering off of you. “fuck!” he panted with a laugh , placing his hands on the side of your cum covered face and kissing you. you moaned into it , tasting both him and you on your tongues.
he pulled away and slid off the bed , leaving you to go into your bathroom. you were left on the bed , eyes closed and chest rising and falling. the silence was deafening , only being able to hear your breathing and a high pitched ringing.
“rafe , will you grab—“
“i gotcha,” rafe assured you , coming back into the bedroom with a wash cloth and your makeup removed, “c’mere.”
you pushed yourself up , and rafe sat next to you. he gently wiped at the white stains on your face , making sure to get all of it off. “prettiest girl in kildare. i’ll say it for the rest of my life,” he cooed , boyish grin on his face as he finished getting the last of cum. you peeked one eye open with a smile to look at him , checking if he was done.
rafe wasn’t looking at you when you checked , too busy pulling out a makeup wipe , so you shut your eyes again , waiting patiently as the blush started to creep up on your cheeks. “oh , kitty. no blushin’ after all of that!” he teased you , starting to remove the makeup on your face.
“m’not,” you huffed , smile breaking back out on your swollen lips.
“you’ve always been a shit liar,” rafe muttered , shaking his head as he got the last of your makeup, “there. now you’re even prettier.” his compliment was sealed with a kiss while you rolled your eyes.
“will you pass me the water?” you croaked , realizing how dry your throat was after you tried to swallow.
he nodded , grabbing both bottles. he unscrewed one , handing it to you before opening his own and chugging more than half of it. you let out a short laugh at the sight , sipping on your own.
“still know where you’re clothes are at?” you asked him , assuming he was staying the night and not wearing the dress pants and shirt while he did so.
“don’t need ‘em,” he shrugged , climbing under the covers before dragging you back with him.
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a/n lol i stay lying to y’all bout when n what im finna post:) but comment to be added to this taglist! <3
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razrbladekiss · 2 months ago
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CRAVE | Joel Miller
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SUMMARY: there’s only one thing that joel craves, and it isn’t the mental fucking torture of an overly stubborn twenty-something teasing him ‘til he’s blue in the face. and balls.
PAIRING: dbf!joel miller x afab!reader. legal unspecified age gap.
WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT. alcohol consumption. pervy old man joel. reader’s dad (i’ve named him sorrrry) is there before joel gets pervy. some religious themes and also descriptions of religion in a negative light (this is MY experience with christianity, if you do not agree then please don’t read), no explicit smut but descriptions of what joel wants to do to youuuu so: mentions of piv, cock-riding, oral f!receiving, choking if you squint, dirty talk asf, joel being cocky which leads to his cock being sad and alone. reader is cunty. not proof-read ‘cus, once again, i’m a lazy bitch and i don’t have time for that. enjoy. 🫶🏻
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An end to craving is an end to suffering.
Today’s last stream of sunlight fulgurates through the branches of your father’s prized Texas Ash, hitting perfectly the dime-sized crucifix situated comfortably between two pert tits sheathed in sheer black cotton.
Joel tries not to stare, but it’s impossible. He’s been watching you all fucking night. Every time you get up, he’s been glued to your ass. Whenever you lean over, Joel can’t seem to pry his eyes away from your cleavage. The more he’s been drinking, the more brazen he’s been with his stolen glances.
When your father rambles about some work-related spiel—and you’re sitting so innocently across the way—he can’t help affixing his eyes to the swell of your breasts. Wondering what it’d be like to touch, and grope, and suck on them.
Your mother was right about him. For all of the years that she knew Joel while your parents were together, she’d always say that he was trouble. A good-for-nothing, splenetic, perverted old-man who was but a bad influence. And you never noticed, never cared. You always thought that he was a great friend, and a stand-up guy.
Until today. Until you saw him scrutinizing your form—in front of your dad—you had a lot more respect for Joel. But now you realize that your mother was right. He is a perv. But—fuck—do you love that.
You’re not sure what you enjoy more—disrespecting your insane Catholic mother, or knowing that Joel is undressing you with his eyes—but you can’t help yourself feeding into his fantasy.
“Daddy?” Your father hums, not entirely bothered by the fact that you’ve just interrupted his conversation. He smiles. “Do you want another beer?”
“Please, hon.” He hands you his empty bottle, mumbling something about how he was going to get himself one and that you don’t need to. But you insist.
The blanket over your thighs is being discarded, hiking your dress up with it. Joel gets a glimpse of your lace panties that he likes to imagine you wore just for him, and shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
Bare, supple skin is on display as you get up from the deck chair. You turn to him with a prurient twinkle in your eye, and ask if he wants a drink too. “Yeah, another won’t hurt. I’m already pretty—“ he hiccups, “pretty far gone, anyway.”
Dad laughs while you saunter to the cooler and make a big show of bending over, completely unaware of the way Joel is trying to conjure up a plan to get you alone tonight. But then…
“Same ‘ere, bud.” He laughs before he’s nodding toward Joel. “Stay the night, if ‘ya wanna. I mean, you’re in no fit state to drive—none of us are—and I got a spare bedroom.”
His nose scrunches up, as if to decline, before you’re turning around with two unopened beers and a small bottle of wine. Your hand wraps around the neck almost romantically, leaving very little to his imagination.
“Yeah, you might as well stay, Miller.” You put down the beers on the table, still holding firmly the Merlot. “I’m stayin’. I got nowhere to be in the mornin’, and dad bought breakfast stuff.”
Two brown eyes are latched to each of yours, and you feel beads of perspiration roll through the valley of your breasts. Despite the evening cooling down, you’re stifling beneath his unyielding gaze.
“Alright, I’ll stay.” Joel concedes. He takes his can and cracks it open, lifting it up to cheers your father. “S’long as you’re makin’ me breakfast, Gary.”
Dad salutes and you smile, sinking into the purple cushion with a satisfied hum. You ogle Joel, biting fiercely the skin of your bottom lip. And it doesn’t go unnoticed.
Joel swigs his beer—letting your dad drunkenly ramble—and doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Wondering how he’s going to make you pay for torturing him like this.
But this hadn’t been your intention when Joel showed up to watch the Cowboys v Browns game this afternoon. In fact, him staying past nine o’clock was completely unintentional and if it weren’t for your dad pumping him full of Coors and Old Milwaukee, he’d be fast asleep at this very moment.
He supposes that he doesn’t mind, being here. Especially because he’s buzzed—still able to speak and think coherently, which is surprising—and gets to spend some rare time with you. Even if it is with your dad.
You watch them converse—the way that friends do—admiring how patient Joel is with him despite him being a little bit too inebriated for his own good. He’s the kind of friend that your old man needs; understanding, forbearing. And it baffles you that they’ve not known one another for longer than seven years, but surmise that they’d definitely be best friends in every other timeline because they just work so well.
But it’s the thought of them being friends—brothers—that urges feelings of unease. Trepidation. Gary’ll have a cow if he finds out the way that his so called buddy has been making googly eyes at his little girl’s titties for the last eight hours.
Joel senses the shift in attitude—you’re not teasing him now—and turns the topic of conversation to you. Dad doesn’t mind, though. Never minds talking to—or about—his kid.
“What made you stay in with us oldies tonight, huh?”
Wine is being swiveled around the glass before you take it back in one swig. A grimace flits over your features, but they both catch it.
“Didn’t feel like hittin’ the bars.” Candidly, you say. It’s refreshing. “Can’t be dealin’ with pervy old men tryna touch me.”
Less refreshing.
Joel’s blood runs cold, and you smirk. He swallows thickly the liquid acrimony bubbling from the chasms of his throat. He wants to screw that stupid grin off of your face—stuff his cock straight between those plush lips and throat fuck you ‘til you’re crying and gasping for air.
He just nods instead of saying anything.
“I’ll kill anyone that touches you.��� Dad says, not sensing Joel’s sudden frigid state. “Seriously. ‘Specially if it’s an old fuckin’ degenerate asshole—“
“Alright, Gary.” You halt the hate train, pouring the last few dregs of wine into your glass. “No need to get all protective. No old coot is comin’ anywhere near me.”
You look directly at Joel when you say; “old men can’t do what guys my age can, anyway.”
Dad grimaces. Joel scoffs. You can’t help smiling, feeling very proud of yourself.
“Y’know, you’re still my kid? And hearing this shit is nasty.” Your father tells you around a burp, and realizes that this might be the time to call it a night.
He’s never been able to handle his alcohol, especially after being married to your psychotic beer-loathing, hymn-signing, prayer-group-leading, holier-than-though moronic fucking mother.
He lets himself get too drunk too fast, now. Ever since she went back to Kansas—which was totally code for I fucked the priest and got extradited from the church—he’s really let his hair down, and you’d be lying if you said this version of your old man wasn’t the very best. Because he’s living his life the way that he wants to, now.
It’s nice.
“It might be nasty, but ‘least you don’t have to worry about me bringing home a man your age. Or even worse; older.”
Gary gets to his feet—knees clicking and cracking as he does so—and nods. “‘Spose that’s true, kid.”
Joel. Is. So. Fucking. Pissed.
As you say your goodnights—and put on a few lights so that your dad doesn’t trip over his own feet—Joel is mentally counting down the minutes until he gets you alone on this damn patio. He’s determined to make you regret the few little comments that you’ve made tonight.
“Don’t stay up too late. Y’know how cranky ‘ya get with no sleep.” Dad reminds you. “You too, Miller.”
You hum your response, lifting your empty glass and indicating that you’ll be retiring to your room soon, too.
“Night dad.”
“Night, pumpkin.” He turns to Joel. “Make sure she ain’t up too late.”
He nods and shifts his gaze to you, eyes darkening. “Yessir. I’ll put her to sleep.”
Your father grunts and slides the patio door to close. Leaving his daughter and best friend alone together might be the biggest mistake that he’s ever going to make.
Joel watches him intently behind the glass door, heeding him stumble across the tile. He might be about to rearrange your guts, but he at least wants to be courteous.
Your legs squeeze together, for the only sound you hear is the reverberation of Joel’s I’ll put her to sleep in that sexy, beer-slick tone.
He sees it.
“She makin’ ‘ya squirm?”
You blink at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your pussy.” Joel—as candid as ever—elaborates. “Is she flutterin’ ‘cus ‘a me?”
The fallout of a chemical bomb would be much more appealing than having to look Joel in the eye after such a lewd statement.
“Don’t worry if so. I have that effect on the ladies.”
“Makin’ yourself sound like a slut, Miller.” Coolly, you respond. Your hand is reaching for a can of beer, twining fingertips around the base while another pulls the tab.
Two eyes screw shut when a spritz of alcohol is flushing over your face, neck and chest. Droplets of Bud trickle between those perfect tits that Joel’s eyes have almost burned fucking holes into; forcing even the horniest man on planet earth to render himself utterly speechless.
You trail a finger through the valley of your breasts, collecting the sticky liquid before you’re putting it straight into your mouth; sucking it clean. Your eyes are locked on Joel’s.
“What? Cat got your tongue?”
Slowly, he shakes his head. The sight before him is truly one to behold; his friend’s sweet daughter with her fingers between her tits out in the patio. Nobody’d ever believe him if he told them this. Joel probably wouldn’t even fucking believe himself.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t ’ya?” Is what he says in response. He’s quick witted, you’ll give him that. “My tongue stuck in your pretty little pussy—“
Heat flashes over you.
“You’re fucking vile.”
“Ain’t that the way it’s meant’a be?” He lurches forward, and your eyes travel to the small opening of his shirt’s midsection that highlights perfectly the fact that he hasn’t a base layer beneath the flannel.
You see a small patch of hair; brown, and gray and seems a little fuzzy. It’s a sudden reminder that this man is a smidge too old for you. But you can’t find it in yourself to care very much.
“Don’t think so.” Trying to out-douche him, you respond. Joel’s thick fingers are twined together, hands resting over the peaks of his knees. “Think youre meant’a have some kinda respect for me. Y’know, as my dad’s buddy, ‘n all.”
Joel snorts a laugh.
“I’d have respect for ‘ya, but the way that peachy fuckin’ ass was in the air when ‘ya bent over the cooler tells me that daddy’s ’lil girl is more of a slut than me.”
Your jaw rolls. Reaction: gauged.
He inches nearer to you; slimy grin plastered across rough, rugged features. “Only pullin’ your leg, hon. I know you’re no slut. Too much of a prissy bitch—“
“Oh, really?” Irked, you spit.
Joel nods. Pushing at your buttons has never been much of a difficult feat. It’s something that he quite enjoys, actually.
“Mhm, yeah.” The man is leaning backwards in his chair, now. Arms folded behind his head; hands pressed against his dark curls. “Gonna have to prove that you ain’t like your mama.”
Your blood boils. And then it runs cold.
“Don’t gotta prove shit to you.” You defend. Very defensively.
“No, that’s right. Don’t gotta do nothin’, kiddo.”
You see the outline of his dick as it stiffens within the confines of his dark, navy-denim jeans. He’s actually getting off on this.
“Unless you want to—“
“Nah, I’m good.” You’re leaning back, now, lifting your legs to sit criss cross applesauce. The barely-covering-your-crotch sheer fabric of your thong catches his eye; a glint of something wicked flickers through them as he clears his throat.
If you’re playing the long game, then so is he. He can out-stubborn anybody.
“So I’ve heard.” He jabs, insinuating that you’re a prude. Again. “Can prove ‘em all wrong, if ‘ya wanna.”
It’s killing him, this. It’s torture. But he’s strong. Ish.
You shake your head, reaching for your almost-empty can of beer. You’re taking another long pull, making a dramatic show of tilting your head back and puffing out your chest as you do so. His lips purse.
“I’m good.” You tell him again with a syrupy smile. “Rather we just talk. Y’know—be civilized, ‘n all.”
His arms are moving to the sides of his deck chair, now. Joel’s tongue runs along his bottom lip. He gives a quick bob of his head.
“Yeah, we can talk.” His eyes zone in on your pussy; the engorged wet patch situated on the part of fabric that kind-of clothes your cunt. His mouth waters. “But what’ll we talk about, baby girl?”
Another surge of pleasure oozes out from between your thighs, turning what was once a purple thong into a jet-black one. Joel doesn’t mind, though. The sight is sweet; it’s prurient, in some sick way.
“Hm.” You pretend to think, all the while spreading your legs a little bit more. He sees perfectly the outline of your folds as fabric hugs and highlights the inner workings of your beautiful anatomy. “Why don’t we start with what you’re thinkin’ about, Mr. Miller?”
A weakness of his, that is. You referring to him as Mr. Miller has always gotten him hot. It’s innocent, almost. It’s like that’d been engrained into your brain by the god-fearing fruit-loop that brought you up, and you can’t quit saying it in these situations.
“Oh, doll. Not sure you’ll wanna hear what I’m thinkin’ of.” His tone is rough, now. Like 180 grit sandpaper against the wooden walls inside of your fucking brain. You hum.
Mentally, Joel’s cock is spearing open the tight hole between your legs; making you scream his name. He’s thrusting his prick up into your cervix while you ride him like he’s the last cowboy on earth, desperate to feel a kind of pleasure that no man your age could ever bestow upon you.
In his head, he’s picturing your crucifix dangling in his face while you’re pleasuring yourself on his length; glistening with sweat, and cum, and Sierra Nevada. Howling at his girth, speechless at the size of him.
He wants nothing more than to wrap a hand around the base of your throat and fuck you into next week; feeling damp walls contract and seize around his cock—
“No.” You snap him back to reality; halting his train of thought. “No, you can tell me. I’m a big girl, I can take it.”
Oh, I’m fuckin’ sure she can.
“Fine.” He clears his throat. “Just thinkin’ of stufin’ that warm ‘lil cunt with my big ‘ol cock, ‘s’all.”
“Oh, is that all?” Your tone is teasing.
Joel does not like to be teased.
“If you’d shut your fuckin’ mouth, I’d be able to finish.”
In a moment of pure, unapologetic submission, you nod. The skin of your bottom lip is getting fucking gnawed at by your teeth in an attempt to conceal a moan.
It works. Kind of.
“What was I sayin’…” He strives to recall his last few words; and then he remembers. “Oh, yeah. Stretchin’ out that cute pussy ‘a yours.”
That cute pussy ‘a yours, is twitching. Fuck that, it’s pulsating.
“And you’re so sure of that? You being able to stretch me out, I mean.”
“Dead sure, angel face.” He quips. “I know for a damn fact that you’d be havin’ trouble takin’ my fat cock all in one go; be cryin’ for everyone to hear.”
Through long, thick lashes, you stare at him.
“You’d be seein’ stars; and not just the ones above us right now.”
You look up to the sky and hope to alleviate some of the mental pain being bestowed upon you right now. Which is entirely your own doing, of course.
Joel shifts in his seat so that he’s a little bit more sunken, able to heed clearly the sickly sweetness blanketing the chair you’re on.
“I’ll eat your pussy, too.”
Your attention is snapped back down to Joel, now. Your brows raise.
“Suck your soul right out from between your legs.”
“Oh, Joel.” You moan, a little. He lets his eyes shut for a brief moment, only to open them again to find you taking off your panties.
It’s like Christmas fucking day, this.
“I’d love for you to take me right here; fill me up on one ‘a the sunloungers.” You’re getting off your chair, and Joel’s heart is starting to pound within the chasms of his chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
You’re walking toward him; thong in hand. Fingers wreathed through soaked purple cotton.
“Can’t think of anything that’ll bring me more pleasure than you fuckin’ me ‘til I’m crying. Or gasping for air.”
“You ‘n me both, beautiful.”
You smile. You give Joel your underwear, before you’re running your fingers through his hair and he’s letting a hand glide up the meat of your thigh and beneath your skirt.
“Just a shame, ain’t it.”
“What’s a shame, sugar?”
The feeling of his fingertips—calloused and covered in rough skin—is almost orgasmic. But you’re stronger than what he is. So you pull yourself away from his hold, and begin to feel an unwavering sense of need. You shirk it, though.
You’re leaning into him now, breasts pressed against his shoulder, lips touching the shell of his ear. Goosebumps prickle over his neck and you assume that they’re making their way down south, too.
“Huh?” He says to get your attention, for you still haven’t answered. “What’s a shame?”
Fingertips trace over broad shoulders enveloped in soft, warm flannel. You’re leaning closer; hot breath on his skin. Your lips part to whisper:
“If daddy ever found out about this, he’d kill ‘ya.”
“Baby—“
You’re taking the panties from his hand, and tucking them into the breast pocket of his shirt. Fighting a blush—feeling very proud of yourself—your face remains straight.
You tap at his chest and walk away, but not before throwing a “night, Miller” over your shoulder.
Joel looks down at the ground, presently wallowing in some sort of self-pity. But then remembers the visible effect that his words had—and the way he looked at—you, and he can’t fight the stupid fucking grin pushing its way onto his face.
He might’ve just experienced blue-balls at his big age, but to see you submit to his gaze was absolutely worth it.
He just hopes you’ll never tell a soul about his dirty-talk. He has a reputation to uphold, these days.
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rafekisser · 4 months ago
Note
Had this idea about Rafe’s best friend! Reader who hasn’t been with anyone in like a year and is getting really worked up. Maybe she had a terrible week and there was a last straw and she’s yelling and yanking on her hair and throwing things and Rafe is kind of realizing she just needs to be totally dominated and taken care of so he does
rafe x bsf!reader
a/n: i totally love that idea anon !! first time writing ever i just didnt want to let sweet nonnie down, so apologies if its not that good !
cw: smut, swearing, drool.
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rafe knew you haven’t had a hookup in ages. you would vaguely mention it, when it would be just the two of you in either one’s rooms. if he was being honest, he pitied you. he even wanted to be the one to help you…
you were pissed off the whole week. maybe it was your hormones, with the way you would get annoyed at everything.
whether it be traffic making you late to events, or people at the country club being rude, steam was coming out of your ears.
you were like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode anytime now. good thing your bestfriend kept you grounded whenever you were feeling overstimulated.
so there you were, in your room getting ready for dinner with your family and the camerons. rafe on your bed scrolling on his phone, patiently waiting for you.
you were quiet while doing your makeup on your vanity table, not your usual chatty self. normally you would go on and on about anything and everything under the sun, yapping for hours on end.
rafe knew something was up.
“something wrong bunny?” he asked, using the nickname he gave you referring to the time you dressed up as a bunny for halloween when you two were little.
“no,” you replied with a pout, voice barely above a whisper.
rafe knew better than to push you, so he just sighed and kept quiet.
a few moments have passed, and rafe hears a soft ‘oh fuck’, a thud, and heavy breathing from your vanity. he looks up from his phone and sees your head down, soft sobs coming from the table.
when he got up to come closer, you shot up. screaming, crying, wailing even. rafe could see your problem now: you smudged your mascara. you started yanking out your hair curlers, figuring they were useless if your makeup was ruined anyway.
“woah woah- hey bun!” he yelled, pulling you by your waist. he placed you on your bed, rubbing up and down your arms to soothe you.
rafe guided you gently so you were laying your head on your pillows. he was in between your legs, arms caging your frame.
“shh calm down baby,” he whispered, wiping your mascara stained eyes with his thumbs.
he petted your hair, large hands slowly making their way to your cheeks.
“i’m here, i’m here.” he cooed as your cries hushed, turning into soft hiccups.
in this position he could feel you wet through your bloomers. he looked at your eyes as if to ask for permission silently, before he cupped your mound through the frilly fabric.
“what d’you need bunny?”
“need you rafey,” you whined. he carefully pulled down your bloomers, a string of slick connecting your pussy to the fabric.
rafe grew hard at the sight, taking his thumb to run across your slit. his other thumb trailing to play with your nipples through your top.
you mewl at the simultaneous sensations, given you haven’t experienced them in a long while. he took that as a sign to circle your clit, causing your eyes to shut and your legs to close, only to be blocked by rafe’s broad figure.
he then plunged two fingers in and out of you, thick digits stretching your tight hole. rafe’s hand that was previously playing with your tits find their way to your mouth, muffling your lewd moans.
“let’s be quiet bunny. your parents might be downstairs” he shushed, deep voice making your pussy clamp down on his fingers.
fingers curling up to hit your sweet spot, rafe could feel you getting close.
“you can cum baby, go ‘head,” he signals, feeling you gush all over his hand. eyes rolling to the back of your head, you felt euphoria rush through you.
as you rode out your high, rafe removes his hand from your mouth, drool dripping from your mouth and his hand.
“sorry,” you squeaked. he didn’t mind anyway, just happy you probably had your first orgasm not from your own fingers in months.
it never occured to you that this was an option, to be touched by your own bestfriend. this wouldn’t be the last time it happens, you could tell.
“thank you rafey.” you smiled weakly at him, looking through your lashes. he didn’t say anything, just kissed your forehead.
“are we late to dinner?” you asked, suddenly remembering why you were getting ready.
“i drive fast, we’ll make it,” he smirks, grabbing your small hand to cup the bulge through his pants.
dinner could wait.
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likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated !! love, scarlet.
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capuccinodoll · 2 months ago
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Honey love, dark eyes
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♡ Chapter one ♡
Summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, your best friend. As usual, you and Sarah are getting everything ready to celebrate, just like you have for years. However, while preparing dinner before Joel gets home from work, Sarah tells you that her dad has been seeing a mysterious woman for the past couple of weeks. This wouldn’t be an issue, except he’s been deliberately hiding it from you, even going out of his way to lie about it.
Though you try to keep your anger in check to avoid ruining his birthday, your emotions get the better of you later that night when it’s just the two of you. Joel doesn’t hold back either, sparking a heated argument that pushes you both further than ever before.
Word count: 9.4K
A/N: Okay, I was planning for the first chapter to be 4K words MAX, but my imagination went crazy with this lol I really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing this <3 warning: ANGST! don't forget to leave feedback, tell me what you think!
If you want to be on the tag list, let me know too.
You met him on the night of your twenty-second birthday, at the small party Cassie had put together for you in her dimly lit apartment. You hadn’t wanted much of a celebration, nothing bigger than a few close friends, and certainly not a group of strangers. But when Brianna swept in, holding hands with a man you didn’t know, and introduced him as her boyfriend, you felt a vague flicker of annoyance, the kind that accompanies unmet expectations.
"I thought it was just going to be us," you mumbled to Cassie, catching her in the kitchen as she poured herself another glass of wine.
She looked at you, her cheeks already flushed, eyes bright. "They're a few of my friends, too; they’re nice—you’ll like them if you give it a chance." She smiled, urging you to relax, as though she could tease you out of your mood. "It’s your birthday; don’t be so sullen."
"I didn’t know Brianna was bringing her boyfriend," you said quietly, as Cassie started back to the living room.
She paused, giving you a half-smile over her shoulder. "Neither did I, actually," she admitted, lowering her voice. "Apparently, they've been together for about a month. She’s really into him."
And she was. Brianna clung to him all night, her laughter spilling out freely, unrestrained and buoyant from the wine. It wasn’t long before someone suggested karaoke, and as voices rang out in the next room, you slipped quietly back into the kitchen, craving a moment of solitude. You were surprised to find Brianna’s boyfriend there, leaning against the counter, scrolling absently through his phone with a glass of water in hand.
He looked up, straightened, and offered you a tentative smile. “Oh, hi. Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm but reserved. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier…”
“No worries,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “Thanks.”
He hesitated, as though weighing what to say next. “Are you having a good time?”
You gave a slight shrug. “It’s…” but before you could finish, he cut in with a knowing smile.
“It’s okay. I don’t love my birthday either.” His eyes glinted in the soft kitchen light, and you felt a small smile tugging at your own lips.
You looked at him then, really looked at him, allowing yourself the indulgence. “I didn’t want to admit it,” you said, feeling the faintest hint of heat rising to your cheeks. “What was your name again?”
“Joel,” he answered, his gaze drifting briefly back to his phone. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge tonight. Left my daughter with a new babysitter. I think she’s having a rough time.”
Your eyebrows rose in mild surprise; you hadn’t pegged him as a dad. You moved closer, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and asked, “How old is she?”
“Four. Her name’s Sarah.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you could tell he was tense. “It’s only the second time she’s been with this sitter, and apparently, she’s been crying all evening.”
“Oh, poor thing,” you murmured sympathetically. “She’s little. Changes like that must be hard on her.”
He sighed, his gaze drifting to the side as he typed something quickly on his phone. “I should probably get going. Brianna won’t love that idea; we’d planned to stay out…” He paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours, worry etched across his face. “You think she’ll be too mad?”
“No,” you assured him, though you knew Brianna wouldn’t be pleased. “Go be with your daughter. She’s little; she needs you. Brianna will understand.”
A grateful smile spread across Joel’s face, and for the first time, you noticed the faint dimple on his cheek. For a fleeting second, you wanted to reach out, trace it with your thumb.
“Thanks,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt unintentional, yet steady. “I hope your night gets better once karaoke is over,” he added with a quiet laugh. "Wish me luck."
You chuckled, meeting his gaze. “Good luck, Joel.”
He left with that same soft smile, and you watched him go, his warm brown eyes leaving an odd impression, like an unclaimed memory. And, as expected, Brianna didn’t understand. She spent the rest of the night sulking, casting sharp words at Joel through her bitterness.
“You knew he had a daughter when you got with him, this was bound to happen at some point,” Cassie told her, fed up with the other's complaints.
You didn't hear the answer, as you were distracted by watching the colorful pictures someone had put on the television.
You heard nothing more from Joel for a couple of weeks, until Cassie blurted out the gossip one morning while you were having lunch at her house.
“He broke up with her,” she began to tell you. “He told her she wasn't being empathetic and that he couldn't drop everything to party with her as if they had no responsibilities.”
It was no surprise. Brianna was a woman who lived at night; she was twenty-three years old and enjoyed it with the freedom that was rightfully hers. You couldn't blame her for wanting to have fun with her boyfriend. But Joel lived a very different reality than she did; at twenty-eight, he had a daughter to take care of, routines to follow, and a lot of work to do.
Although you thought it would take her longer to get over him, it wasn't long before she met a guy at her gym and got into it with him, outgrowing Joel in a matter of days. But for some reason, Joel’s warm, steady gaze stayed with you, like a whisper that hadn’t fully faded.
Years passed quietly, slipping through your fingers like sand until, suddenly, it was your twenty-sixth birthday. This time, the scene was different: you’d moved into your own place just two days earlier, and there was little thought of celebrating. Instead, the weekend found you alone, arranging your things and attempting to bring order to the chaos of a new home.
It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you stood in your front yard with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice in hand, humming along to some eighties tune drifting in from the living room. The song—one of those upbeat ones that made even housework feel light—had lifted your spirits, and you moved rhythmically as you pushed plastic flowers into the dirt along the front path, sending little puffs of air to make the petals flutter.
You were lost in your task when you heard soft footsteps behind you, instinctively making you turn.
“Oh, hello,” you said, quickly masking the slight surprise the girl’s sudden appearance had given you.
She looked at you with wide, curious eyes, seemingly unfazed by her solo adventure.
“Hi. What’s your name? Do you live here?” she asked, her gaze shifting from your face to the flowers in your hands.
Glancing around for any sign of her parents, you noted her relaxed stance, like she’d been coming here all her life. Smiling, you nodded and gave her your name. “Yep, I just moved in.”
She looked unimpressed. “This house was empty for a while. I didn’t like the kid who lived here before. He was a pain in the ass—”
“Sarah!” came a sharp voice from behind, making you jump slightly. Heavy footsteps approached, and you squinted against the sun to see a figure striding toward you, his features obscured by the bright morning light.
When he stepped closer, his face came into focus, and your breath caught. You knew him.
“Sarah, you can’t just leave the house like that,” he said sternly, a furrow in his brow, his tone more parental than reproachful.
He turned to you, and the scowl softened as recognition dawned.
“Joel,” you murmured, the name slipping out before you even meant to say it aloud.
His expression shifted into a surprised smile, and that was all it took to break the ice between you. You explained that you’d just moved in and were still settling. Joel offered to help with anything you needed, including taking a look around the house to ensure everything was in order. He formally introduced you to Sarah, now eight years old, who had nearly scared him to death by sneaking out. She had his same lively spark in her eyes, a brightness that seemed familiar.
That evening, Sarah invited you to dinner with them, leaving Joel with little choice but to agree. And one dinner became many, as evenings blurred into weekends, and you found Joel’s presence in your life weaving into something inseparable from your routine. He started popping by to help with small projects, fixing kitchen cabinets or adjusting the wobbly front steps, visits stretching into movie marathons or lazy conversations with cold beer in hand. Days flowed into evenings of chatting over the meals you cooked to share with Sarah, and sometimes her uncle Tommy. Though Joel claimed he was no cook, his barbecues were legendary, and you couldn’t deny you looked forward to them most of all. And soon enough, he was there for everything, from driving you to doctor’s appointments to accompanying you on those grocery runs he pretended to hate. He even started showing up early on days he knew you’d need a ride. Over time, he became the best friend you’d ever had, a safe place, someone who felt like family. With everyone else scattered—Cassie overseas, old friends moved away—Joel became your rock.
It wasn’t something you dared to admit to yourself often, but you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And maybe that’s why you never allowed yourself to voice those little fleeting thoughts, the ones that flitted through your mind every now and then: how safe you felt whenever he threw his arm around your shoulders, or how good he looked reclining on his couch after a long day. Or how perfect it felt when the three of you—Sarah dozing on his lap, you leaning into his shoulder—sat together in the warm silence of a Sunday afternoon. There was an ache, too, a quiet pang whenever he mentioned another woman. Thankfully, that was rare; Joel once told you, with a shrug, that he “wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing.”
Sometimes, you watched him carefully as you talked about your own dates, hoping to catch a glimmer of jealousy in his gaze, some subtle cue that maybe he felt the same way. But there was never anything you wanted to see, and you always felt silly for looking. So, you buried it all. The risk of ruining things with Joel wasn’t worth the confession.
One afternoon, however, your emotions almost escaped your eyes when, while preparing Joel's birthday cake, Sarah dropped a piece of news that caught you off guard. She told you, with her usual nonchalance, that Joel had gone out the night before with someone new.
“Yeah, it’s like… the third time they’ve gone out,” Sarah mentioned while spreading cream on the sponge cake. “I don’t know her name or anything, just that he met her in line at the bank,” a laugh choked in her throat, amused at imagining her father flirting with some woman in a public space.
You forced a smile, laughing along like it was funny.
"And who stayed with you last night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.
Not that Sarah was necessarily a baby; she was already twelve and extremely independent. But Joel never left her alone if he went out for the night, he knew how much she loved spending time with you watching movies and eating junk food. Then, when he arrived, you would pester him with gossipy questions and he would pretend to get angry and then answer every one of them.
“Uncle Tommy," she said, eyeing her work with satisfaction. “We had fun, but I kinda wished you’d come too. Hey, what do you think?” she fingered the cream neatly arranged with the angled knife.
“It's perfect,” you smiled at her, not waiting too long to ask the question you wanted so badly. “Why didn't you call me then?”
Sarah started sprinkling colorful sprinkles on top of the cream and looked at you for a second when she noticed the tone in your voice at the last word. She didn't seem to think much of it.
“You were busy, weren't you? Dad said you had something to do.”
Her answer hit you like a small weight to the chest. Joel had purposefully left you out. He’d even made an excuse for Sarah’s benefit. So, there had been three dates—three times he’d kept this woman a secret. A small knot formed in your stomach as you forced yourself to smile, still watching Sarah as she concentrated on the last of the sprinkles.
In the kitchen, you were running your hand through the steam from the beef stew on the stove—Joel’s favorite—when the door opened. His footsteps grew louder, approaching, and you nervously adjusted the dress you’d chosen, one you knew he liked, though he’d never said it. It was your favorite too, a cream-colored sundress with delicate shoulder ties.
Sarah sprang forward, covering his eyes. “Don’t look, the table’s not ready.”
You hurried to set the glasses in their places, your hands a little shaky as you moved, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up your cheeks.
“I don’t need to see it—I can smell it, and it smells incredible,” Joel grinned beneath Sarah’s tiny hands, which she’d plastered over his eyes, half to keep him from sneaking a glance, half just because she could.
“Too bad you don’t smell incredible,” Sarah retorted with a smirk, wrinkling her nose. "Go take a shower!"
You laughed, catching Joel’s raised brow at her.
“You’ve got five minutes,” you said, placing the lid on the simmering pot.
Joel snorted, brushing Sarah’s hands away from his face.
“That’s the smell of a hardworking man,” he replied, feigning offense as he turned for the stairs. “Y’all oughtta know.”
*
Later, the three of you sat around the table, and Joel took his first bite of the stew, eyes widening, a kind of bliss washing over his face. He tossed his head back and groaned.
“Sweet Glory,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Thank you for this.”
“Oh, come on,” you teased, though part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something between irritation and flattery. “You say that every time I cook for you.”
He shook his head, smiling as he chewed, then spoke softly, his gaze slipping downward.
“I’m not exaggerating—I love everything you do.” A pause, and then a quick, awkward clarification. “I mean, everything you cook.”
The clarification was like a line drawn in the sand, a boundary etched by his voice alone.
You smiled weakly and inwardly thankful when Sarah spoke, telling you about something that had happened at her school that week and distracting you from the question that was spellbinding your tongue. You were dying to ask it, to look him in the eye and ask: who did you go out with last night? Why didn't you tell me? Is it someone I know? Is that it?... But you didn't, you stayed quiet and participated in the pleasant conversation, celebrating his birthday as he deserved. After all, no matter how much it angered you that he kept things from you, it was still his special day.
After dinner, Sarah forced Joel to sit in front of his cake, two lit number candles glowing in front of him. You turned out the lights, watching as the light from the flames reflected beautifully in your best friend's dark pupils.
Joel was wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his hair was still barely damp from the shower he'd taken before, and his sun-kissed tan face looked smooth, decorated by the beard and mustache you loved so much. Behind him, his shadow vibrated and spread across the wall with grandeur.
“Make a wish!” Sarah cheered, bouncing with excitement as she placed her small hands on his shoulders.
Joel smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candles. In the dimness, you leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.
“Happy birthday, old man,” you whispered, your hand resting gently on his neck.
He reached for your hand, pressing a warm, lingering kiss into your palm. “I’m not that old,” he muttered with a mock frown.
Sarah giggled, holding a knife to cut the cake and licking a dab of frosting from her thumb. “You’ll be forty in four years,” she teased, catching your amused expression.
Joel scoffed, scratching his stomach as he stood back up, turning to you with a smile that made you forget, just for a moment, all the questions you were holding back. There was only Joel, his rumbling laugh, Sarah’s delighted giggles. It felt like home.
Sarah gave him his gift first: a copy of Curtis and Viper 2 with the deleted scenes and a mystery box. When he opened it, a smile formed on his lips.
He pulled out a weathered wristwatch, broken for months, now polished and repaired.
“I took it in to be fixed. Do you like it?” Sarah asked, eyes wide with anticipation.
Joel nodded, eyes softening as he extended his wrist for her to put it on. “It’s perfect, baby.”
“Let's watch the movie later,” Sarah said. “You can't fall asleep.”
“Let's see which one of us falls asleep first,” you joked, and you were right. Joel had been working all afternoon and Sarah had been yawning for hours.
You turned and picked up the box resting beside your feet, handing it to him. When he opened it, Joel pulled out a black cloth garment and a paper envelope. He tugged at the cloth, revealing a thick, soft jacket. He read the label and a smile appeared on his lips.
“I saw it and thought of you,” you said, mimicking his gesture.
“How much did you pay for this?”
“Don't worry about it, it had to be yours,” you noted as you stood up and took it from his hand. “Here, stand up. Let's see how it fits you.”
“And what if it doesn't fit? Do we have to travel to Rome to exchange it?”
You laughed, then helped him slide it over his shoulders, a comfortable, familiar movement.
“I know you by heart, I couldn't be wrong.”
“So?” he asked, smiling coquettishly. Your stomach tingled and you decided to ignore it.
“Lookin’ good, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her innocent smile lighting up the moment. “Bet someone special will love it, too.”
Joel smiled weakly, as if he was trying to tell her something with his eyes, and for a second you hated the thought of your gift being enjoyed by someone else. You imagined him getting ready to go out with her -whoever she was-, running his hand through his hair and perfuming his neck as he did from time to time whenever he went out with someone. You knew that perfume perfectly, you'd recognize it anywhere, though you were sure it wouldn't smell the same on anyone else. Joel added his own scent to it, and you loved it.
“Okay, now, open the envelope,” you urged, your voice unintentionally sharper than you meant.
Joel sat back down and opened the blue paper envelope. He read the note carefully and when he looked up, you and Sarah were looking at him excitedly.
“Sunshine, did you pay for this?” he asked you, a soft disbelief in his tone.
Inside were three plane tickets. Sarah had helped you pick the destination—somewhere none of you had been but would love.
When you nodded, he let out a soft sigh. “Let me cover part of it.”
You groaned, rolling your eyes. “It’s my birthday gift to you, Joel. It’s all settled. You need a vacation, and we certainly do too, don't we?”
“That's right,” Sarah confirmed, smiling complicitly.
He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re too good to me.”
But he smiled, tucking the tickets back into the envelope.
Time with Joel and Sarah was easy. When you were with them, hours slipped away, and the heaviness of everything else seemed to dissolve. You felt at home, and sometimes it left you wondering about Sarah’s mother, about how anyone could have left them. Didn’t she see how extraordinary they were? Didn’t she realize what she’d lost?
You thought about this as you relaxed on the couch beside Joel, Sarah curled up with her head on your shoulder. Her breathing had slowed, and you smiled, realizing she’d fallen asleep. Three glasses sat on the coffee table: the wine Joel had opened just before dinner—a bottle you’d brought back from your last trip to Italy—and Sarah’s lemon soda. Joel snorted softly, glancing at his daughter with a smirk, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Fallen soldier,” he whispered, smiling.
You laughed, brushing a hand over Sarah’s hair. “She’s tired. She was up all afternoon making your cake, you know? Tried the cream three times before she got it right.”
Joel sighed, an apologetic note in his voice. “I know, sorry I was late. I know she wanted me here sooner.”
Curtis and Viper 2 was halfway through on the TV, forgotten in the background. Joel straightened, signaling he’d take Sarah to bed, and you shifted to make room as he lifted her, carrying her toward the stairs. You watched him disappear down the hallway, and as the house fell into a quiet lull, that familiar disappointment stirred in your chest. Now, without Sarah’s chatter, you’d have to keep pretending that nothing was wrong.
You took a long sip of your wine, finishing off the glass just as Joel returned. He sat down heavily beside you, causing the cushions to sink as he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes before giving you a grateful look.
“Thanks for today, I had a great time. Sarah was very happy,” he said quietly, a warm smile appearing on his lips.
“I'm glad, hun. Although the credit goes to her, I just made dinner.”
“Doesn’t matter. You helped her, and I’m grateful. I mean that. For today, and for… all these years.” His voice softened, almost reverent.
“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, feeling your pulse pick up as he leaned closer, his brown eyes unreadable but soft. “You’re my family, both of you. Really, I’m the one who owes you thanks.”
He shook his head and leaned back, taking another sip of his wine.
“Not at all,” he replied, leaning back again.
You watched him for a moment, turning the weight of your question over in your mind. If you said something, he’d make an excuse. If you kept silent, the doubt would eat at you. You tried to fix your gaze on the TV, on anything other than his profile in the dim room. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
“So, what did you do last night?”
He tensed beside you, so subtly that only you could’ve noticed. “What?”
You tried to keep your tone even, hoping you didn’t sound like you’d spent all day thinking about it. “I just… didn’t see your truck out there, thought maybe you were gone or something.” It was a lie; you had fallen asleep on your couch last night, you hadn't even noticed Joel was gone.
Joel seemed to measure his words carefully. “Oh. Yeah… I just went out for a beer with Tommy,” he answered, his tone a little too casual.
Heat crept up your face, disbelief taking root. He really was holding out on you for some reason, wasn't he? The man was lying to you, and not very cleverly. Tommy had been with Sarah, what if you had seen him, hadn't he thought of that? Apparently not. 
It took a moment before you could bring yourself to say anything, watching as he glanced at you with an uneasy smile, waiting for you to believe him.
“Joel,” you murmured, not quite able to keep the accusation out of your voice. “You’re lying to me.”
He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, but you didn’t let him off so easily. Before he could say anything, you spoke again.
“Tommy was with Sarah last night, here,” you pointed out, your voice firmer this time. His silence told you everything, his face drawn and uncertain as he realized you’d caught him.
After a long pause, he looked down, his voice unusually flat. “Alright, yeah. I know.”
The admission was so casual it took you by surprise, but you shook your head, feeling the ache of frustration and betrayal creep in.
“Why would you lie to me?” you pressed. “We’re friends. Why wouldn’t you tell me you’re seeing someone?”
Joel sighed, avoiding your gaze, his eyes instead locked somewhere in the distance. “It’s… it’s nothing serious,” he mumbled. “Just getting to know her. Don't make such a fuss out of it.”
“What? what you're saying doesn't make sense. You’ve kept it hidden, avoided every chance to be honest about it. Why?” you asked, trying not to let the hurt seep into your voice.
“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but his voice sounded unsure.
“So if I call Tommy right now, he’ll tell me the truth? Or did you ask him to keep this from me too?”
Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes scanning your face, reading the frustration and hurt you’d tried to keep buried. You could see it in his eyes, that familiar tug of defiance, a flash of something deeper than guilt or secrecy.
“What if I did?” His voice was almost philosophical, his gaze intense and challenging. “This is my private life. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, not even you. Do I?”
You drew in a sharp breath. His words struck like a slap, but you steadied yourself. “You’re right, Joel. You don’t owe me explanations. But you don’t have to lie to me, either.” You looked down, feeling your voice start to waver. “You’ve never hidden your relationships from me before.”
He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and slumping back against the couch.
After a few seconds, he finally looked at you, a look of exasperation crossing his face.
“Because of this.” He gestured between you, his tone gentle but firm. “This reaction, right here, is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”
What Joel was saying didn’t make sense. Your frustration wasn’t over him seeing someone else; it was something else entirely, something more fundamental.
“Oh, just stop,” you snapped, voice sharp. “I’m not mad because you’re dating someone, Joel. I’m mad that you lied to me. They’re two completely different things.”
He took a breath, settling back on the couch, and turned to face you, a guarded expression crossing his face. “No, it’s always the same thing. Remember the last time I was seeing someone?”
And you did, briefly. A year ago, one of his friends had introduced him to his cousin—a woman who had just moved to town. She was polite enough, but her smiles had a brittle quality to them, and when she met Sarah, her warmth never extended beyond a single, dismissive greeting. The indifference was obvious, at least to you, and maybe you’d let that show a little too openly. Joel had caught on quickly, and after that, things with her fizzled out.
“That was different,” you argued, exasperated. “She wasn’t nice, Joel. She had zero interest in Sarah.”
He gave a bitter, half-smile. “Maybe, but it wasn’t your job to manage that. I can handle my own relationships. But you always—” he paused, thumping his chest with a finger, “you always step in. Always get defensive.”
“That’s not true!” Your voice rose as anger crept in, heating your face. “You’re just making excuses. Date whoever you want, Joel, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me, don’t insult me with these flimsy excuses. Or if you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”
He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening, something fierce sparking in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and measured, the words hanging between you like a dare.
“Sure about what?” Your brow creased in confusion, the pulse in your chest picking up, a flurry of anger and… something else you couldn’t place, mingling with the haze of the wine.
His eyes narrowed, holding yours, unflinching. “That you don’t care. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Because I know you, i know you to well to know you’re just jealous.”
Jealous. He thought you were jealous.
He had missed the point completely. Your feelings for him were complex, that much was true. But you had learned, or thought you had learned, to carry them quietly. Your friendship with him had come to feel like a sturdy house you could live inside without having to ask too much of it. Having him in your life was enough.
But now, you felt that house shift, cracks spreading through the walls. His inability to trust you hurt more deeply than you’d expected. The openness you’d once trusted was fracturing. You felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes, the words he’d thrown out so casually cutting to the quick.
“Fuck you, Joel,” you muttered, standing abruptly, storming to the door and slamming it shut behind you. You barely heard him call your name as you left, fury driving you down the front steps, the cool night air biting at your cheeks.
Honestly, he could go fuck himself.
Just as your hand reached your front door, his footsteps closed in behind you, his strides fast enough to catch up. You tried to close the door before he could reach you, but his hand caught it just in time, his voice heavy with irritation.
“Just go away, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him. “I don’t want to see you again.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice was calm, almost pleading.
You stepped back, reluctantly letting him into the foyer. He’d have come in anyway.
“I mean it, God. Go home,” you insisted, your voice wavering, betraying the anger mixed with something else.
He shook his head, taking a few steps closer, his jaw tight. “Can we just talk?”
“Talk?” you repeated incredulously. “Talk about what? About how wrong you are?”
He didn’t flinch, but his eyes darkened. “Don’t act like what I said was crazy,” he said, voice steady but a little sharper now.
You scoffed, throwing your hands up. “Oh, so now I’m jealous, is that it? Then, by your logic, you must’ve been jealous too, right? Like last month, when Travis asked me out. Because if that’s the case, then we’re having the same conversation, aren’t we?”
Joel clicked his tongue, tilting his head with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Travis is just a jerk. And I don’t like him, plain and simple.”
Travis Dunn, your neighbor, had moved in a few months after you did. Handsome, tall, and friendly, everyone on the street adored him—everyone except Joel. He couldn’t seem to stand him, though Travis was always polite to him.
Last month, when Travis had asked you out, Joel had practically laughed in your face when you told him about it, muttering something dismissive as if the very idea was absurd. You’d told Travis you were busy, though deep down you knew the real reason you hadn’t accepted was because of Joel’s disapproval.
You shook your head, exasperated. “Travis isn’t a jerk, Joel, you just don’t like him. He’s nice, honestly, much nicer than some people, if we’re being honest here. Everyone loves him; you’re the only one who has a problem with him.”
“Then everyone’s as much of an idiot as he is, sunshine.”
“Oh, really? Or maybe… you’re jealous of him?” Your tone was teasing, but you felt the shift as soon as you said it.
Joel’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He ran his tongue over his lips, shaking his head slowly, twice.
“Don’t turn this on me,” he said. “This isn’t about Travis or me.”
“No?” you shot back, voice edged with challenge. “So if I go tomorrow and say yes to him, that wouldn’t bother you at all, right?”
He stepped closer to you, his eyes dark with something you’d never seen in him before. The air seemed to thicken, his presence so intense it felt as though it wrapped around you. He leaned in, his face close enough that his words brushed your skin.
“You can do whatever you want, baby. It’s your fucking life.”
“And you can do whatever you want too, Joel. That’s the fucking point!” you nearly shouted, hands pushing against his shoulders, shoving him away. “I don’t care what you do! It’s already clear you don’t get it, you don’t get anything, ANYTHING!”
Joel staggered back for a split second, but it wasn’t long before he closed the distance again, though he didn’t get as close this time.
His voice was lower, a thread of something hard in his tone. “If you’re so insulted by the idea of being jealous, maybe that’s something for you to think about. Ever thought of doing a little introspection?”
“Are you drunk, Joel?” you asked, eyes narrowed, softening your voice a fraction. The argument was exhausting you, and the anger left you feeling hollow.
He laughed, an odd, choked sound. “Oh, c'mon, you know one bottle of wine ain't enough to get me drunk.”
“Yeah, but you’re tired, and you’re not exactly young, Joel,” you said, brushing past him, his gaze glued to you the entire time. “Alcohol hits you differently now. Just go home, leave me alone.”
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, and maybe then you can run across the street and fuck Travis Dunn, if you want it so badly,” he shot back, impatience tinging his voice as he turned toward the still-open door.
The words hit you like a slap. You froze for a moment, the anger washing over you in a wave. Before you could think twice, you rushed up to him, gripping his arm tightly to force him to turn and look at you.
“What the hell did you just say, Joel?” you hissed, grabbing his shirt, fingers bunching in the fabric as you backed him up until his shoulders hit the wall by the door. “Go on, say it again!”
Your breaths came fast, chest rising and falling as the rush of anger pushed tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe he’d actually spoken to you like that, cutting right through to something raw and vulnerable. He’d never spoken to you like that before. Maybe he was a little drunk, or maybe he was losing his mind.
But there was no softness in his gaze, no hint of the Joel you knew. His stare was sharp, almost wild with something simmering underneath, something you didn’t understand. To you, this whole argument made no sense, at least not his reaction.
Joel’s grip on your wrist was firm, almost grounding, as he pulled you closer, pressing your palm against his chest. “I can’t stand that asshole, but go ahead and fuck him if you want,” he spat, voice laced with frustration. “Go fuck the whole neighborhood while you’re at it. I really don’t care anymore.”
His words were harsh, designed to cut, but they only drew a laugh from you—sharp and derisive. A tear slipped down your cheek, uninvited.
“What, did you ever care?” you asked, your voice trembling on the last syllable, thick with emotion.
But Joel didn’t respond, and the silence ignited a fire in you, something that swirled beneath the surface, ready to boil over.
“Do you know why we’re friends, Joel?” Your pulse quickened, each beat like a drum in your ears. “Because it just works between us. There are no ulterior motives. You know why? Because I don’t like you like that. You’re not even my type, and you never will be. And no, I’m not jealous that you’re dating some woman you’ll probably dump in less than a month, so get the fuck over it and leave me the fuck alone!”
You watched as his gaze flickered between your eyes, uncertainty warring with something darker. Suddenly, with an unexpected strength, Joel tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed you back hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your back hit the unforgiving surface.
His expression had transformed, those deep, dark eyes piercing you like arrows. His breath quickened, crashing against your face, and you could feel your lower lip tremble as he pressed even closer, pinning you against the wall.
“You don’t know how to lie,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your cheek.
The sensation was unbearable; his body pressed against yours, heat radiating off him and melting you inside. You could feel the edge of something primal, something that could tip either way. But suddenly, clarity surged through you. With a burst of strength, you pushed him away, breaking free from his grasp, forcing him to pull back just enough for you to gasp for air.
But the distance felt worse. In his eyes, you recognized something you’d never seen before—desire, raw and unfiltered. It clawed at you, igniting an inexplicable need. A sigh escaped your lips, and like a match struck in a dark room, it was enough to set off an explosion. In an instant, Joel lunged at you, and you found yourself wrapped around him, mouths colliding in a desperate kiss filled with moans and the urgency of your racing hearts.
With a loud thud, Joel kicked the front door shut, his hands moving feverishly down your body, fingers skimming your thighs, slipping beneath your dress. He caressed your skin before squeezing your ass hard, drawing a moan from your lips that echoed in the small space between you. You clung to him tighter, his hands fitting around you as if they were made for this very moment.
He pulled back for a breath, the sound wet and chaotic against the walls of your home, and then his lips descended down your neck, unraveling what little sanity you had left. A moan rumbled in his throat as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, giving him better access to the tender spot just below your ear, your blood pulsing beneath his hungry mouth.
Joel seemed to want to devour you whole; his hands roamed erratically, trembling as his mouth kissed and bit your jaw, pressing your bodies together in a way that felt impossibly intimate. When you lifted your right leg and wrapped it around his side, he was quick to respond, hands securing your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his hips, burying his face against your chest.
Another moan escaped you, and he pulled you down just enough to find your lips again. “Joel,” you whispered, breathless as you parted from him, pressing your forehead against his, eyes searching his.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said, his voice low, almost broken, each word laced with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” you replied in a small, desperate cry, feeling the heat radiating from him, the thin fabric of your underwear igniting a fire deep within you.
You were dying of thirst, and he had just asked you if you would refuse a sip of water. Was he mad? You wanted to drink it all. 
No sooner had you answered than Joel pulled you off the wall, striding toward the stairs with a confident grace. You lowered your legs cautiously, meeting his lips again in a frantic, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with urgency.
You walked to your room with the agility of one who knows where to step, and once inside, you grabbed the shirt you had angrily grabbed earlier and lifted it up his body in a desperate attempt to rip it off. Joel raised his arms, letting the fabric pass over both of you and then fall to the floor, and as quickly as your hands returned to his chest, he kissed your neck again, desperate, pressing his fingers into the tender flesh of your waist, seeking a physically impossible closeness. 
His hands found your thighs once more, fingers gripping and kneading with a measured intensity that sent electric shivers through you. As he moved lower, his fingertips brushed the thin fabric of your underwear, inching closer to where you ached for him, squeezing you tighter as if to draw you in.
In a single, decisive motion, he grasped the hem of your dress and pulled it upward, the fabric sliding along your skin as he lifted it away, tossing it aside with a casual disregard that only heightened the tension in the air. He took a step back, his gaze roaming over you, from the soft curve of your face down to the tips of your toes, a look of hunger that felt almost consuming.
You weren't wearing a bra (your dress didn't require it) and your breasts fell beautifully in front of him, hard nipples and soft skin. Your chest flushed with warmth, a rosy hue creeping into your cheeks as you swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated when he stepped closer.
“I’ve always loved that dress,” he said, his voice trembling with an emotion that was both reverent and raw.
“I know,” you replied, a smile curling at the corners of your lips, the moment igniting an intimacy that made your heart race.
His eyes swept down your body again, glittering with an unmistakable lust, and when he closed the distance, standing right before you, your breath caught in your throat.
His hands slid around your waist, firm yet tender, pulling you into him with a deftness that sent a thrill coursing through you. In one seamless motion, he lifted you off the ground, your feet barely grazing the floor as you instinctively stood on your tiptoes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.
Joel’s eyes darkened with a hunger that left you breathless, and he leaned in, his lips finding one of your breasts with a soft kiss that felt both electrifying and reverent. The warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body, and before you could gather your thoughts, he nipped your nipple gently, a teasing bite that sent chills racing across your skin.
His teeth grazed you just enough to elicit a gasp, a shuddering reaction that echoed in the space between you. But he didn’t linger on the sharpness of that moment; he quickly replaced the sensation with the soothing warmth of his lips, enveloping you entirely.
He sank to one knee, lowering himself until his lips brushed your stomach, the warm sensation sending ripples of desire coursing through you. His face lingered dangerously close to where you needed him most.
Joel placed his hands on your hips, fingers gripping the elastic of your underwear, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment that stretched into eternity before he slowly began to lower it, the fabric sliding down your legs and pooling at your feet. You felt his breath hitch at the sight of your now bare center, the anticipation thickening the air between you as he inched closer, finally brushing his lips against your mons pubis.
“Precious,” he murmured, and the warmth of his breath washed over you like a caress, drawing a small, needy moan from your lips. His hands parted your legs slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you firmly in place.
You cupped his face gently, as if afraid you might break him, and then, without warning, Joel licked his lips and plunged forward, his mouth connecting with you in a surprise that made your eyes flutter shut. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer as he devoured you, his tongue working its magic as he sucked and kissed you whole, with an urgency that left you breathless.
He growled into you, the sound reverberating through your body, and you felt weakness seep into your legs, trembling under the weight of his relentless attention. Joel was eating you like a hungry man, tasting you and soaking in your juices with a fervor that felt primal, kissing you as if his life depended on it.
“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling every muscle in your body tighten as a building pressure coiled inside you.
He pulled away for just a moment, his eyes darkened with lust, a playful smile creeping onto his lips before he returned to you, closing his mouth around your clit, sucking and licking with a skill that made your head spin.
“Ah—Joel, I’m going to—I’m going to—” You struggled to articulate the intensity of what was building within you, your words stumbling over the tide of pleasure washing over you.
His voice vibrated through you, trailing off into a soft, “Mhm.”
You pulled at his hair, tugging harder as a wrenching moan escaped your throat. The world around you faded as his movements grew more frantic, his tongue flicking at you with a desperate fervor. One of his hands released your thigh, and a low groan escaped his lips as his finger found your entrance, sliding inside with an ease that made you gasp.
“Fuck me, you’re so wet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you—your cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with lust. A satisfied smile broke across his face, and you thought he had never looked so gorgeous.
From your point of view, he looked beautiful. His bright eyes worshipped you intently, his mouth and mustache glistened bathed in you, his hair tossed by your hands mingled in all directions. Joel Miller had never looked so good.
Another finger joined the first, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp for air. You gripped his hair again, pulling him closer, and he let out a throaty laugh, clearly reveling in the sight of you completely undone.
You felt his mouth on you again, the warmth of his lips kissing and sucking with an insatiable hunger that left you breathless. The sound of it was utterly obscene, echoing around the room like a carnal symphony, and it drove you to the brink of madness, your mind spinning in a dizzying haze of pleasure.
His movements grew more intense, a rhythm building that sent waves of ecstasy rippling through your body. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your hips moving in desperate undulations, surrendering to the climax that Joel savored with unrelenting focus. Your fingers clenched around him, digging in perhaps a bit too hard, but he welcomed it, desperate to drink in every last drop of what you were offering, to savor you whole.
With a low grunt, he squeezed your hips before pulling away, the wet sound of his departure from you hanging heavy in the air. You barely registered his rise from the floor, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure, your eyes still closed as the vibrations coursed through you. It wasn’t until his hands gripped your waist that you finally blinked awake, lifting your eyelids to find him gazing down at you, his face mere inches from yours.
He leaned in, capturing your mouth again, a kiss that was both desperate and tender, igniting a fire deep within you. You could taste yourself on his tongue.
Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss. As the intensity built, you let your fingers drift down his chest, trailing lightly until they found the leather of his belt, the sensation sending shivers through you as you tugged him closer.
Joel vibrated against you, a low growl escaping as he nipped at your lower lip while you fumbled with his steel buckle, the sound of it being released becoming your new favorite melody. You unzipped his pants, your heart racing as you slipped your hand inside, finally touching him for the first time.
Your pulse quickened as you wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat radiating from his velvet soft skin; big, hot and throbbing in your palm. A rush of desire flooded you, and you pulled away from his lips, dropping to your knees before him, your eyes wide as you took in his form. 
There he stood, beautiful and swollen with need, and your mouth watered at the sight. You cupped him gently, drawing him closer to your lips, placing a soft kiss on the tip. Joel closed his eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the moment completely, and you traced your tongue over him, tasting the salty sweetness of his pre cum that made your insides tighten with longing.
With a hint of effort, you attempted to take him fully into your mouth, but he was too large, stretching you in ways you hadn’t expected. Joel lowered his gaze to you, his fingers caressing your jaw as you struggled to adjust.
“Slow, baby,” he urged, his voice silky yet strained, and it sent another rush of need through you. "I know you can do it."
You matched your hand to your mouth, stroking him where you couldn’t quite reach, while your other hand gently caressed his balls, moving in a synchronized rhythm. Joel tensed beneath your touch, his fingers shifting from your face to tangle in your hair, guiding you as he reveled in the pleasure you were giving him.
The sounds in the room became a symphony of pleasure, every moan and gasp echoing off the walls, and you watched as Joel's pleasure climbed. The image was enough to drive him over the edge; your pink, swollen lips covered him and his cock glistened with your saliva, dripping from your chin with every move you made. Your teary eyes looked up at him desirously, and he could take no more; his gaze was filled with a primal hunger that threatened to unravel him. He finally withdrew from your mouth with great reluctance when he felt his stomach tighten, a low complaint escaping your throat in protest.
His breathing was heavy, and a flush colored his cheeks as he lifted you effortlessly, holding you at the waist, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. In one swift motion, he laid you back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he moved closer; Joel kneeling and settling between your legs which you instinctively opened for him. 
You needed him, you needed him to fill you whole. You had never needed anything as much as you needed him at that moment. And as if he was reading your thoughts - or maybe he needed you as much as you needed him - he leaned in, taking your mouth with his once more, his moans blending with yours as he lost himself in you.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, the taste of him igniting a fire in your veins. You felt him positioning himself at your entrance, his heat pulsing against you, and an intense sigh shot through your chest as Joel entered you in one thrust, burning and stretching you around him. 
“Oh God,” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His right hand traveled to your left leg, lifting it and resting it high on his shoulder, while without hesitation, his other hand mirrored the movement with your right leg, bringing you into a position that felt both intimate and vulnerable. You were completely folded under him.
A cry escaped your lips as Joel began to move on top of you, his face hovering just inches above yours, the heat between you palpable. No one had ever penetrated you so deeply; it felt as though he was everywhere, filling you completely, every inch of you alive with sensation.
Joel's right hand gently squeezed your neck, seeking your mouth for a kiss as his movements took on a more urgent pace. The rhythmic collision of his hips against your buttocks created a beautiful sound that echoed off the walls, each thrust punctuated by the soft, desperate gasps that slipped from his mouth. Your own cries mingled with his as your body tightened again, your hands moving frantically up and down his back, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving little marks that he would surely wear like badges of pleasure. 
A broken sound escaped from Joel, raw and primal, as he sank his face into the crook of your neck once more, increasing his thrusts with a fervor that felt animalistic, as if the world outside had fallen away and this moment was all that mattered. He fucked you into the mattress with an intensity that left you breathless, as though he were trying to ground you both in this fleeting reality, where nothing else existed except for the two of you entwined together.
You melted around him, your juices mixing with his as you enveloped him completely, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted his head, your forehead resting against yours, his wide eyes locking into yours. You had never seen them so dark, so filled with intensity and strength.
And then it hit you: It was Joel, your Joel, the one who had been your best friend for four years, and here he was, fucking the life out of you like no one ever had before. What could possibly come after an experience like this?
“I thought you didn't like me,” he said, his voice choppy, strained with effort. A smirk played at the corners of his swollen lips. “Such a bad liar, baby, look at you.”
You growled in response, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him towards you with a mix of force and anger. Your lips found his in a kiss that was anything but patient, igniting a spark between you. You felt him tense above you, one of his hands quickly moving to your center, exerting immense pressure as he leaned his weight on his other arm, holding you captive beneath him.
His fingers found your clit, tracing gentle circles that made your back arch involuntarily, another wave of pleasure building inside you. Your mouth was still on his, consuming him completely, when your second orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. You felt your insides tighten around him, squeezing him with a ferocity that pulled him closer to his own climax.
Joel gasped into your mouth, and the intensity of it sent your vision spiraling into darkness for a brief moment, the sensation so strong it felt as if the world had collapsed around you. When your breathing finally steadied, you found his hot body pressed against yours, moving in tiny tremors, quickened breaths brushing against your jaw.
He stayed inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the closeness, your hands continuing to caress his back, each touch a silent promise. Then, slowly, he pulled out of you, leaving you feeling achingly empty, his cum trickling from your entrance.
He fell limply beside you, his body slick with sweat, and pulled you close to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His breaths, still heaving, crashed against your damp skin, wrapping you in warmth. Unable to muster the energy to move, you let your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to a deep, exhausted sleep that you would not remember when you woke up...
No, you didn't remember any dream, Because when you opened your eyes the next morning, you stirred in place and your muscles ached pleasantly, reminding you of the night before. And as you stretched your arms across the bed, your fingers grazed the sheets, feeling an emptiness beside you.
When you looked to your sides, the realization hit you hard.
Joel was gone.
taglist: @orcasoul
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katsu28 · 15 days ago
Text
snowfall
pairing: lando norris x best friend!reader
summary: when plans with your family fall through at the last minute, lando invites you to come home with him for the holidays. (3.8k)
a/n: the big finale!!! lando is so best friends to lovers coded, i couldn’t resist. does it snow in the uk in december, probably not but it’s for the plot so bear with me pls <3 happy holidays everyone!!
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“Yeah, of course. Yes, mum, I understand. No, I’ll be fine, I promise. Okay. Okay, I love you too. Cheers, see you when you get back.” 
You end the call with a heavy sigh, tossing your phone away from you on the sofa.
That was your mum on the phone, telling you that her and your father wouldn’t be home for Christmas this year. You’d planned on going home to celebrate with them like you always do, but for the first time ever in your life, it looked like you were going to be spending Christmas alone. 
It was bound to happen sometime in your life, really. You’re an adult now, still trying to find your place and your people in this world. 
Speaking of your people, Lando has just made his way into McLaren hospitality, head on a swivel until his eyes land on you. He takes notice of your downtrodden demeanor immediately, marches his way over to where you are with gusto and plops down next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks bluntly, dark brows furrowed in concern. 
You inhale a deep breath, forcing a smile onto your face to respond. “Nothing. How was testing?” 
“Fine. Seriously, what’s going on? Why do you look so sad?” He demands, but not unkindly or rudely. Just simply how Lando is with you, direct and to the point. It’s one of many ways he is around those he cares for. 
“I was planning on going home to spend Christmas with my family, but my parents aren’t going to make it home in time,” You confess. Your finger picks at the loose thread of your sweater sleeve, a welcome distraction from the lump threatening to form in your throat. 
Lando frowns. “Oh. M’sorry to hear that. That sucks.” 
“Yeah. Looks like I’ll be spending the holidays on my own this year.”
“What? No, you can’t spend Christmas alone. That sounds so sad.” 
“I’ll be fine, Lando,” You chuckle, patting his knee. It does indeed sound sad, but you won’t have Lando all worried about you when he should be celebrating with his loved ones. He’s got a lot to celebrate this year, and you don’t want your situation to take away from any of it. “Don’t worry about it.” 
“Come spend Christmas with me.” 
For a moment, you’re at a loss for words. Lando is one of your best friends, sure, but joining him for something like this seems too imposing of you. Despite being close with his family, you can’t do this to them so last minute. After a long year, this is their time with Lando. 
You shake your head immediately, wrinkling your nose. “No way. I wouldn’t want to barge in on your family time.”
“C’mon, you wouldn’t be! My family loves you.” He shrugs. “I mean, you’re basically an honorary Norris already at this point, and I think my sisters might love you more than they love me.” 
That makes you laugh. “Shut up, no they don’t!” 
“Uh, yeah they do.” 
“Okay, maybe they do. I’m just that easy to love.” 
“Yeah, you are,” He says, smiling softly. Your head cocks to the side at the pure warmth in his tone, and it seems to make him snap out of whatever trance he’s in, because he gives his head a subtle shake. “Seriously, come home with me. It’ll be fun. Way more fun than just sitting around at home watching those boring home improvement shows you seem to like so much.” 
“Hey! Those shows are fun!” You huff, swatting him on the thigh. 
“Sure they are,” He says, still unbelieving. “So what do you say? Christmas with the Norrises, how ‘bout it?” 
You let out a breathy chuckle, nodding. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds lovely.” 
“Mint! I’ll go let my mum know.” He beams, bouncing to his feet. “Better let Flo and Cisca know too, they’d kill me if I brought you round and didn't tell them ahead of time.” 
“Lando?” You call after him. He whirls around with an arched brow, phone already in hand. “Thank you.” 
“Of course. I’d never let you spend the holidays alone.”  
Looks like this Christmas might not be so bad after all. 
-------
The first thing you hear when you climb out of the car at Lando’s family’s house is a shout of your name. 
Before you can even register who might be calling you, a little body crashes into your legs, arms wrapping around your knees tightly. Now you know who it is, and you grin. 
“Why hello, miss Mila!” You chirp, kneeling down to be at her level. She giggles loudly at the finger you boop against her nose, throwing her arms around your neck as best she can, and you lift her up onto your hip. “Are you excited for Christmas?” 
“Christmas!” She cheers. Lando wanders over to the two of you from the boot of the car at that moment, and the second Mila spots him, she grins even wider than you’d thought was possible. “Lala!!!” She squeals, reaching out for him. 
Lando takes her into his arms, swings her around a little bit, beaming brightly at the peals of laughter that escape her with every swing. “My goodness, you’ve grown! You might be almost as big as me now!” 
Lando’s brother, Oliver, emerges from around the house now with his other daughter nestled in his arms, raising his free hand in greeting as he makes his way over. 
“Guess my brother finally gathered the nerve,” He says cheerfully, clapping Lando on the back. Lando not-so-subtly steps on Oliver’s foot, garnering a hiss of pain from the older Norris. “To…make it home when it’s still bright out! Yeah, he usually doesn’t come around til the girls have gone off to bed.” 
“It’s nice to see you too, Oliver,” You chuckle, pushing aside your confusion as you give a small wave to the toddler in her father’s arms. She waves back shyly. “Thanks for letting me join you guys this year.” 
“Please, you’re welcome here anytime,” Oliver replies, sounding more than sincere. “C’mon, let’s head inside. Mum and everyone’ll be stoked to see you.” 
Mila wriggles out of Lando’s arms to come hold your hand, dragging you towards the house excitedly. You don't notice Lando and Oliver dropping back, nor the hushed conversation they have that is definitely about you. 
Much like both boys have said, the rest of their family welcomes you with open arms.
His parents tell you how good it is to see you again, and that they’re happy you’d decided to come home with Lando, Flo and Cisca glue themselves to your side immediately to catch up with you, even little Athena starts to warm up to you the longer she watches her older sister play with you. 
You feel right at home with all of them like you always do, and it makes you start to forget about spending your first Christmas without your own family. Though, in a way, Lando’s family is starting to feel like yours too. 
-------
It’s Christmas Eve and you can’t sleep. You’ve been at Lando’s house a few days now and everything’s been great—the food, the company. Lando. 
You’re used to him being a little forward with his affections towards others, because that’s just the way he is. So when he pulls your legs over his lap while you’re watching a holiday film with the whole family, or rests his head on your shoulder during Monopoly, you don’t think anything of it at first. He likes cozying up to friends and being close to them. But as the days go on, it starts to feel different this time. 
At first you just assume it’s because he doesn’t want you to feel awkward, but then you catch him staring at you a few times in a way you can only describe as pure fondness. While you're on the sofa cuddled up with Mila and Athena watching one of their shows. As you're helping Cisca figure out what to wear for her next date with her boyfriend, or helping his mum in the kitchen. 
It could be platonic, but it feels a little too intimate to be so. 
You don’t want to think too much into it, though. It wouldn’t do you any good to get your hopes up about the possibility of something more with Lando when it could just be all in your head. 
Sitting up in bed, you scrub your hands over your face. Too many thoughts run their way through your brain for you to fall back asleep, no matter how tired you may be. You glance out the window beside you, and suddenly your attention is captured at the scene outside. 
It’s snowing. 
Sure, it’s an ungodly late hour, but seeing snow makes you want to go outside. Doing your absolute best not to wake anyone up as you swing yourself out of bed and creep down the hallway, you make your way down the corridor to Lando’s bedroom. 
You knock on his door quietly, listening for anything that could give away whether or not Lando was up. For a few seconds, there isn’t a sound. Then you hear the clacking of a keyboard and the faint sound of him talking, and you know he’s awake. He probably didn’t hear you knock. 
Pushing open the door slowly, you pad into the room to see him slouched over in his gaming chair with his back towards you.
“Yeah, mate, I’m gonna tell her—no, I’m not! Fuck off,” He says. There’s a lengthy pause—whoever he’s on call with is talking, you assume. “I’m just—I’m waiting for the right time. Like, I’ll know when it comes, won’t I?” 
Your heart gives an involuntary pang in your chest and you sigh, having already had enough eavesdropping on this conversation. 
You pad towards Lando, going for a gentle tap on the shoulder. Your hand just barely touches his arm, but he jumps about a foot in the air, flinching so hard you think the poor boy might’ve given himself whiplash.
“Jesus! What the—don’t sneak up on me like that!” He yelps, pushing one side of his headphones above his ear. On the screen, you can see he’s playing Tarkov again. Alway playing Tarkov instead of sleeping, that boy. 
This time, it works out for you. Now you can drag out into the snow with you. Not that you weren’t going to do it anyways even if he was asleep.
“You couldn’t hear me! What was I supposed to do?” You huff. Squinting at the other username on screen, you smile, pushing into Lando’s space to reach his microphone. “Is that Max? Hi, Max!” 
Lando’s voice sounds a bit strangled when he relays Max’s response a few moments later. “He says hi.” 
“What else did he say?” 
“What? Nothing,” He replies quickly, swallowing hard. “Why?” 
“That was such a long pause, there’s no way he just said hi.” 
“Well, he did, so…it’s whatever. What’s, uh, what’s up? Everything okay?” 
Now you remember what you came here for. Grinning, you bounce on the balls of your feet. “There’s snow outside!” 
“No way!” He says earnestly, cocking his head to the side. He abandons his game in favor of shuffling over to the window and peering outside, letting out a pleased little noise when he sees that it is indeed snowing out in the garden. “That’s wicked.”  
“Will you come outside with me?” 
He exhales sharply, giving an amused chuckle. “Yeah, right. I’m not going outside.” 
“It’ll be fun!” 
“Don’t see what’s so fun about freezing my ass off in the cold,” He grumbles, but you can tell he just needs a little more convincing. You jut out your lower lip, giving him the pout of yours that he can never seem to withstand, and his resolve starts to crumble. “No, don’t do that. Stop that right now. I’m not going outside with you at this time of night.” 
“Please, Lan?” You plead, taking his face into your palms so he can’t look away. For a split second, his gaze seems to flicker down to your lips, but before you can process the tiny movement, he’s squeezing his eyes shut. 
“Oh my god, fine,” He groans, shoulders sagging. You beam, wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug. “Let me go tell Max I’m being held against my will and then we can go.” He crosses back over to his desk and mutters something into the microphone that you can’t quite make out. 
As you’re pulling on layers to guard yourselves from the cold, he pauses, turning to you with one shoe on. “You didn’t, erm, happen to hear anything when you came in to get me, did you?” 
“No, why?” 
You’re not sure why you choose to lie about what you’d overheard, something about Lando telling some girl something at the right time. He hadn’t told you anything about having a crush on anyone, but then again, these past few weeks have been hectic. 
“Oh, nothing. Just wondering.” He pulls the front door open right then, suddenly seeming so eager to get outside despite his previous grievances. Something in his tone hints that it might not be as nothing as he says it is, but you won’t push. 
You traipse out into the garden after him, making careful sure to close the door behind you so the cold doesn’t seep in. Fresh powder crunches underfoot as you make your way further out. 
The falling snow has already begun to coat everything out here in layers, and you drag your finger through it, smiling to yourself at the clean cut line it makes.
It feels like another world out here. In a life that is so often always hustle and bustle all the time, the quiet of this time of night in the countryside seems deafening, but in the best way. Peaceful can only begin to describe how you feel right now. 
“Why is it so fucking cold out here?” Lando grumbles, burrowing deeper into his three scarves. Along with the two jumpers and thick coat he’d shoved himself into before even stepping foot outside, he looks well freezing.
“Don’t be such a grinch, Lan. It’s snowing!” 
He scowls. “It’s freezing.” 
“C’mon, at least try to have some fun! You’re killing my vibe, mate,” You huff, bending down to scoop up a loose handful of snow to chuck in his direction. It scatters into the air before it even makes it to him, but hey, at least he’s laughing now. You turn to say something else, but you’re immediately stopped in your tracks. 
A snowball explodes against your forehead before you can say a thing, spraying bits of icy snow everywhere. 
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” Lando yelps, nearly tripping on his own feet in his scramble towards you. You’re too stunned by the snow dripping its way down your face to even register his words. “I wasn’t aiming for your face, I swear! Are you okay?” 
You blink owlishly at him, at the concern and horror mixing in his expression as he takes you by the shoulders to check you out. He uses his teeth to pull off one glove, tossing it off to the side as he reaches to brush the snow from anywhere he can reach.
“For a professional athlete, you really do have shit aim,” You huff, playful annoyance in your tone. 
Lando’s teeth dig into his bottom lip, eyes crinkling happily at the corners as he giggles quietly. “I know. S’terrible, innit? Good thing my job doesn’t require me to do any throwing.” 
“Good thing,” You echo. 
His palms cup the expanse of your cheeks, the pads of his thumbs brushing across your cold skin delicately, and he’s looking at you in that way again, the way that makes you feel like you’re the only other one in the world. Blue-green eyes like sea glass flit around your face, thick brows furrowing ever so slightly as he inches forward. Slowly, like he’s giving you a way out if what he’s about to do isn’t what you want. 
You’re holding your breath as he gets closer, closer, closer, until—
Fireworks. 
As if kissing your best friend isn’t cliche enough, all you can describe of the feeling of his lips against yours is fireworks, bursting in your chest like little explosions. 
“Wait—” You breathe, splaying a hand across Lando’s chest to push him back a bit before the kiss can go on any longer. Despite how much you want it to continue. He makes some sort of displeased noise out the back of his throat, pink lips turning down into a pout. “What about the other girl?” 
That gets him to pull back a little more, head cocking and nose scrunching in genuine confusion. “What other girl?” 
“I lied. I did hear you talking when I came into your room, you said something about waiting for the right time to tell her something. You can’t be kissing me if you like someone else, Lando!” You exclaim incredulously. 
He regards you blankly for a few seconds. Then he starts to laugh. You’re trying to save his ass and he’s laughing at you. You scowl at him. “Why the fuck are you laughing?” 
“Oh! Oh, that was so good! That was gold, really,” He splutters, tears in his eyes. You swat indignantly at him and he holds up his hands in surrender, doing his best to catch his breath. “There is no other girl, you muppet! I was talking about you.” 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah, oh. Guess this is the right time then, huh?” He says, chuckling nervously as he rubs at his reddened nose. “So, here goes it. I think I’m in love with you.” 
“Why?” You ask, disbelieving. It’s a blunt response, you’re fully aware, but you want to know. 
“What d’you mean, why? Have you met you?” He scoffs, like he’s astonished you even have the nerve to question him. “You’re amazing. You’re kind and funny and so smart, and you make people happy—you make me happy, even when I’ve had the absolute shittiest day, I know everything’ll be fine as soon as you find me. You know what I need, even when I don’t know what I need.” 
You’re at a loss for words hearing all this now. How has Lando been in love with you all this time, with you none the wiser? 
“Why’ve you never said anything?” You ask softly.
Lando smiles almost sadly, letting his hands drop back down to his sides. “You’re one of my best friends. I’d rather keep my mouth shut if telling you meant losing you. Losing what we have because you didn’t feel the same way.” 
That, you understand. The fear of ruining your friendship with Lando is one of the reasons why you’d kept your feelings for him secret as well. So to both of you, it was better to ignore your feelings and stay this close than to let the other know and possibly lose one of the best things in your lives. 
“We’re idiots,” You sigh, closing your eyes. 
“You’re not an idiot,” He says immediately. Then he frowns. “Wait, why would you be an idiot? I know I am, but why you?” 
You grab Lando by the collar of his puffy jacket, pulling him into a firm kiss. If he’s surprised, it only shows for a split second before he’s kissing you back fervently, drawing you flush against him by the hips. His nose against your cheek is much colder than before, but the warmth that spreads from your chest down to your toes is more than enough to remedy it. 
“Please tell me that means you do feel the same way,” He pants, looking entirely dazed when you pull away. 
You raise an amused brow at him. “No, I just kissed the living daylights out of you because I don’t feel the same way—what do you think?” 
“Best Christmas gift ever, is what I think.” He smiles warmly. Then he shivers, blowing out a sharp breath. “Now can we please go back inside? I can’t feel my face anymore.” 
Once you’re inside and have shed your coats and shoes and anything else wet with snow, Lando nudges you towards the kitchen. “I’ll make us some hot cocoa.” He murmurs, quiet so as to not wake anyone in the house. You pause, causing him to look back at you. “What?” 
“The package kind or the real kind?” 
“What sort of question is that? The real kind, of course,” He snorts. “With milk and everything.” 
“Oh, you do love me!” You say gleefully.
Lando rolls his eyes playfully, giving your hand a firmer tug that has you sliding right in under his arm on your socked feet.
Despite all his moaning and groaning about being cold, he’s pleasantly warm, and you sigh, nuzzling in closer. He welcomes your closeness, dropping a kiss to the side of your head as he shuffles his way towards the pots and pans cupboard with you latched onto him, not even trying to wriggle out of your grasp.
It feels natural because you’ve always been close. Though now, things have changed. Now, you can kiss him if you want to, instead of wondering what Lando would do if you did it. You’re not just friends to each other anymore. 
You press your lips against his quickly as he’s piling marshmallows on top of two mugs of hot cocoa, pulling back right after just to see his reaction to the impromptu kiss.
As expected, his mouth curves into a grin, dimples on full display. He flicks a marshmallow at you, and you reciprocate, tilting your chin up at him in challenge.
Soon enough, now you’re both chucking the tiny white sweets at each other, trying and failing to catch them into your mouths. The first of you to catch one of them is you, and you cheer, flinging your hands in the air. 
“Oh my god, shush, you! People are sleeping!” He breathes, lunging forward to press a hand over your mouth as you’re mid-shout.
Your eyes widen in comical realization and it makes him laugh, which makes you laugh. His hand falls from your face as you both fall apart in quiet giggles. 
You’re laughing because he’s laughing, he’s laughing because you’re laughing, and neither of you can stop until your sides hurt. 
“C’mere,” He murmurs, stepping in close and sliding a hand around the back of your neck. His gaze flits all around your face, taking in the sight of you with eyes that twinkle with happiness even in the darkness of the kitchen. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Lan." You smile.
He kisses you then, long and sweet and with such gentleness that it makes your stomach do somersaults. 
In the morning, you’ll need to figure out how you’ll play things with Lando’s family, and then everything after. But not now.
For now, you’ll watch the snow fall outside while you snuggle up on the sofa with the boy you love and a mug of not so hot cocoa. 
So maybe this Christmas hadn’t gone exactly as you’d planned, but really, you aren’t too sad about it anymore. You wouldn’t have it any other way. 
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ellecdc · 2 months ago
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I feel like poly!marauders would have s very funny debate around group halloween costumes. Lots of Sirius being dramatic and James pouting. Only for reader to do a couples costume with Barty.
Love your writing!
hahaha aweee poor boys
poly!marauders x fem!reader who isn't matching with them on Halloween [576 words]
CW: ....none I don't think? the boys' theatrics? a prank? pouting?
“For the last time, Sirius, no.” Remus groaned, earning him a disbelieving scoff from Sirius and a whine from James.
“But why, Moons? It’s perfect.” 
“It’s not perfect, it’s ridiculous.” 
“It’s whimsical.” James interjected.
“It’s embarrassing.” 
“Halloween costumes are supposed to be a little embarrassing!” Sirius argued, earning him a head tilt from James.
“Well, now, I don’t think they’re supposed to be embarrassing. Maybe…funny? Quirky?”
“I don’t care what they’re supposed to be, we are not dressing up as the big bad wolf and the three little pigs.” Remus declared with an air of finality, causing Sirius to deflate rather spectacularly. 
“Well what do you suggest we dress up as, then?” He muttered just as you entered their dorm. 
“Uh oh. Why’s Sirius got his pouting face on?” You commented as you pulled off your school robes. Sirius turned his pout towards you and gave you his best puppy dog eyes.
“Moons is being s’mean to me.”
You made a sympathetic cooing sound that had Remus rolling his eyes before you took Sirius’ face between your hands and kissed his pouting lips. 
As you pulled your lips away but not your face, you whispered to your grumpy boyfriend. “Was he being mean to you, or did he just say no?” 
Sirius balked at you as Remus let out an inelegant snort and James’ laughter bounced off the stone walls of their shared dorm. 
“You know what? Fine, screw all of you. I’m going to wear whatever the hell I want and you all will just have to figure out your own costumes.” Sirius huffed as he pretended to turn away from you, only for him to fold the second you started to walk away and pull you into his lap. 
“Wait, wait. You guys haven’t figured out your costumes yet?” You asked in disbelief, clearly wondering how the three of them could put so much thought and planning into their pranks and mischief, yet completely fumble Halloween. 
“Well…no?” Remus asked as James blurted “what do you mean you guys?” 
“Guys, I’ve had my costume planned for weeks!” 
“Weeks?” Remus parotted. 
“Weeks.” You insisted. 
“But…” James started helplessly. “I…I thought we were going to match?” 
You looked somewhat sympathetic for him, but grimaced at your admission. “Someone else asked first, bubs.”
“You’re matching someone else?!” Sirius shrieked as he all but threw you off his lap so he could look at you. 
“Oh for Merlin- yes.” 
“Who?” The three boys chorused with varying levels of theatrics. 
And the next night, one could find three pouting marauders sitting dejectedly in the Gryffindor common room dressed as the three blind mice under the suggestion of their girlfriend. Their girlfriend, who was currently wearing matching costumes with Barty Crouch Junior - a pirate and his Treasure. 
Remus might’ve found it in him to be a little more miffed about it if you hadn’t looked so sodding good in gold and bedazzled all to hell. 
“Note to self,” James muttered defeatedly, “spend less time planning the Halloween prank and more time on the Halloween costume next year.” 
The end of his sentence was punctuated by screaming when the multiple 12 foot skeletons lining the room started walking on their own accord. 
It was way less funny than they had imagined it would be when Barty threw “his booty” over his shoulder and took off out of the portrait hole. 
“Duly noted.” Sirius sighed as he took another swig of his drink.
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sparklingchim · 3 months ago
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game on 02 | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 2.9k
genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l
rating: 18+
warnings: lots of smoochies !! 🤭, their first kiss <3, umm mentions of jk's infamous threesome again 😔, koo talks abt taking girls in missionary what can i say he is a man
summary: jungkook and you practice acting for the cameras. kissing him feels more right than you anticipated.
a/n: yayy chapter 2 is here!!!! <3 writing this was truly saur much fun n i hope u have fun reading too !!! 😋
read chappie one here
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
"Just kiss me."
"Hold on a second."
"We really need to practise this."
"I know, just give me a minute."
You scoot away from Jungkook on the couch. You were sitting so close, almost about to kiss him actually, but his intense, doe-eyed gaze made you pause, needing a grounding breath.
You’ve never been this close to his face, and somehow, you can’t seem to cross the invisible line that keeps you from just pressing your mouth on his. Jungkook’s your friend, after all. You’ve known him since he was five and once saw him get his head stuck at school, so of course it’s weird.
You press your lips together in an attempt to focus, and lean in again, but once your eyes meet his, a smile urges on your mouth.
"Oh my god." Jungkook’s frustrated sigh cuts the air. "This can’t already be doomed to failure because of a simple kiss."
"It’s not! I just need to mentally prepare myself."
"I feel...offended? Kinda?" Jungkook weaves his fingers through his hair. "I’ve never had to convince someone to kiss me."
"It’s not you. I promise!" you say, reaching for his knee. "Under any other circumstance, if we weren’t friends, I’d love to kiss you. You’re hot and cute, but the situation we’re in makes me feel so stupid. It’s absurd."
Jungkook cringes when you call him cute and removes your hand off his knee.
Yesterday, when Jungkook showed up unannounced, it took him full ten minutes to convince you he wasn’t pulling a prank on you.
Who would believe their friend begging you to fake date them? It’s ridiculous. Only happens in the fictional world.
But then Jungkook showed you the pap picture that was circulating online. The comments and gossip were nasty and you knew he was caught up in a deep mess.
In the photo, Jungkook was surrounded by two girls, his arms draped casually around their waists as they stumbled out of the club, a half-full drink lazily held in his hand. His hair was a tousled mess, likely from the girls running their fingers through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small peek into his defined chest. It was bold, provocative — definitely not the ideal image of a responsible twenty-year-old football rookie.
Probably the worst pap pic you’ve seen of him so far. And the worst timing too.
"You were wasted," you commented, staring at the article he was showing you on his phone.
"And I had so much fun last night." His voice was tinged with frustration, like a child whose favourite toy had just been snatched away. "But then I woke up to this picture, and a flood of missed calls and texts." He rubbed his hands over his face, exhaling sharply. "They just had to ruin it for me."
Noticing your raised eyebrow, Jungkook quickly backtracked. "No, I know it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have done this right before the World Cup, especially after what I promised. I just hate how everything turns into such a big deal, just because... well, just because I’m me."
The idea of fake dating Jungkook had seemed absurd, something out of a rom-com rather than real life. But the more he explained the pressure he was under, the more you understood why he needed this.
Jungkook was your best friend, and if kissing him in public could save his career, why not help him?
While you got ready for meeting his manager, stepping out of your comfy, rotting-at-home clothes, which consisted of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt (you think it’s actually Jungkook’s, but you’re not quite sure since it’s been in your closet for years now), and slipping into a casual, more presentable outfit, Jungkook busied himself fixing your laundry machine.
Jungkook’s manager knows you well – his entire team does. You are known as Jungkook’s close friend and had been spotted with him on multiple occasions.
Taesung greeted you warmly, though surprise flickered across his face when Jungkook introduced you as the solution to the fake dating plan.
You felt Taesung’s gaze assessing you, weighing your suitability for the role. Jungkook’s PR agent mirrored his scepticism, tilting her head in doubt. They exchanged uncertain glances, which made you nervous, but Jungkook was determined. Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook if he didn’t get what he wanted. With a few persuasive words and his usual charm, he quickly won Taesung over, who sighed and leaned back in his chair, conceding defeat.
"We need to establish the narrative from the start," Taesung said seriously. "The media will dig into your background, and they’ll want to know if there’s anyone else in the picture. So, to be clear, you’re officially single. No boyfriend, no complicated past relationships that could surface. We don’t need any messy stories."
You assured them that there was none. Multiple times. No angry exes, no secret relationships – your personal life was as drama-free as it could get.
Taesung slid a document across the desk.
"This ensures that whatever happens, no details of this arrangement-"
Jungkook’s hand shot out, halting the paper. "No," he said firmly. "She doesn’t need to sign anything."
"Jungkook, it’s just a formality," Jiwoo began, but Jungkook insisted.
"I trust ___. She’s not just anybody. She’s my best friend. If she says she won’t talk, she won’t talk. The NDA isn’t necessary."
"It’s okay," you assured him gently.
Jungkook shook his head. "No, this is ridiculous. You’re not signing a stupid contract."
After more arguing, his manager eventually relented.
Jiwoo outlined the plan in more detail with Taesung – public appearances, social media posts, carefully orchestrated moments that would sell the story to the public. You felt a bit intimidated by the pressure, but you’d get used to it. After all, this arrangement is only for a few months – just until his management can announce that you’d mutually decided to break up on good terms.
But you both need to practise before stepping in front of the cameras.
Which leads you to this moment, a day later, sitting on your couch trying to practice how to act like a couple. And it’s not going well at all.
"Okay, let’s start from the basics then," Jungkook suggests. He rises to his feet, offering you his hand. "Hold my hand."
You gingerly accept his hand, standing up as well.
"See, don’t we look cute?" Jungkook drags you to the mirror. "Or maybe – let’s intertwine our fingers. I think that would look better." He holds your interlaced hands up between the two of you, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "So cute, right?"
A giggle bubbles in your throat. "You act like you’ve never had a girlfriend."
"Well, it has been a while," he admits, the slightest sulk on his lips. "I’m too busy for relationships." He swings your hands. "The only times I ever hold a girl’s hand is in missionary, above their head when-"
"Jungkook," you interrupt quickly before he can delve any deeper into the story. You give him a mock glare, but there’s no hiding the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Didn’t we both agree on only talking about your bed stories after I’ve had at least one bottle of soju – preferably two, so I can mentally brace myself?"
You love him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear about his bed stories, unless you’re the slightest bit tipsy at first.
"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head apologetically. "Forgot about that."
"Wait, maybe that’s what we should do!" you exclaim as an idea pops into your mind. Your hand slips out of his, and you take a step toward the kitchen. "I think there are a few bottles of soju in the fridge."
"We’re not getting drunk to build up the courage to kiss," he insists. "We shouldn’t need alcohol to pretend we’re into each other."
Jungkook pulls you closer to him, and you stumble slightly, but his hand instinctively moves to the small of your back, steadying you.
"Fine," you sigh dramatically, hand on his chest. "Was just an idea to make this easier for us." The fabric of his shirt is extremely soft and your fingers glide over it.
"I mean, it’s not like we’re complete strangers. And they know it too. We’ve been through enough to pull this off without breaking a sweat."
He’s is right. The public knows you’re one of Jungkook’s closest friends. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that you two might have fallen in love.
After all, you’ve always been comfortable with each other —hugging, cuddling during movie nights, play-fight over silly things just to annoy each other. You’ve shared quiet moments, like when you’d fall asleep on his shoulder after a long day or when he’d run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while you talked. There were times when Jungkook was exhausted and crashed at your place, your fingers gently scratching his head as he slept peacefully. You’ve kissed each other’s cheeks in thanks without hesitation.
Jungkook’s touch isn’t foreign to you.
And still, the thought of acting like you’re in love when you’re not feels strange. Sure, you’ve always been physically close, but this was different. This time, every gesture would be for an audience, every touch would carry a different meaning. It wasn’t just casual anymore.
"I guess," you reply, fiddling with the hem of his oversized t-shirt, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I think it’s just weird to be this close for show."
Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening as he considers your words. "Yeah," he murmurs. "But it’s not like we’re faking the friendship part. The rest...we’ll figure out." His fingers clasp your hip, the pads of his fingers gently digging into your flesh. "Don’t think about it too much," he says. "When we have our first public appearance as a couple, pretend like the cameras aren’t there, act nonchalant. Just... y’know. You and me."
You pout, an involuntarily frustrated grumble leaving your lips as you drop your forehead on his chest.
"I hope I’ll do well under all the attention."
You’ve dealt with your fair share of noisy people trying to pry into your relationship with Jungkook, but so far, it’s been somewhat manageable.
"Just you and me," Jungkook repeats, his tone softer and more assured this time. "Nothing can happen to you when I’m there."
You glance up at him, taking in the gentle lines of his face.
"Maybe you should’ve hired a girl that can deal well with attention," you voice your thoughts.
"No." Jungkook’s immediate response rolls off harshly on his tongue. "You were my first thought. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else but you."
"I was your first choice?" Giddiness makes your face shine.
"Yeah. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable with anyone but you."
"Be honest, you just really wanna kiss me."
You stand on your tippy toes, a silly smile spreading across your face.
Jungkook cocks his head to the side, a teasing glint buried in his eyes.
"I think you do."
With a surge of confidence, you take a small step closer, your heart beating a little faster as you close the gap between you and Jungkook. Your lips meet in a gentle, fleeting touch. The contact only lasts for a moment before you pull back, your eyes searching his for a reaction.
"That was a smooch. Not a kiss."
You frown upon hearing him complain.
"What, you want to make out with me in public?"
Jungkook sniffs a laugh. "No, but maybe a little more than how fifth graders kiss."
"You’re a kissing expert now?" you quip back, narrowing your eyes at him.
Jungkook leans in slightly. "I just know what I like."
The challenge in his voice sparks something in you. "Then show me how you like it."
His gaze drops to your lips, and a flutter of excitement spreads in your tummy. It’s unexpected and thrilling and it catches you off guard.
Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your back, slowly glides up, his fingers curling around the side of your face, his thumb brushing delicately against your cheekbone.
Your breath hitches as he leans in. His lips meet yours again, but this time there’s more weight behind the contact – still soft, but deeper, more intentional. His lips move slowly and there’s a warmth to it, a tenderness that makes your heart race even as the kiss remains gentle. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the connection just enough to make you melt into him.
The teasing atmosphere lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside by the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.
Kissing Jungkook doesn’t feel weird – which makes it a little weird.
When you both finally pull back, it’s gradual. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with your own.
"Like that," he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re a good kisser."
You pull back completely. "Excuse me?" you say. "You were doubting my kissing abilities?"
"No, not at all!" Jungkook shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes as he gazes at your sulky face. "You’re just a very good kisser. Like, super gentle and smooth."
Heat crawls up your cheeks. You ignore the flush of warmth and keep your composure. "Have you been using the lip balm I got you? Your lips are soft."
"I know, right? Not chapped at all anymore."
He traces two fingers along his bottom lip and your eyes follow the motion, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to his lips.
"Are we done practising?"
"Do you think we looked natural?" Jungkook’s hand slips into yours once more. While he is focused on the mirror, adjusting the way your bodies fit together – tugging you closer, alternating between holding your hand and interlacing your fingers – your mind is still replaying the memory of the tender press of his lips. "For me, it felt pretty natural. Not awkward at all. What do you think?"
It’s the simplicity with which he says it that draws a short laugh out of you.
The sound grabs his attention. "What?"
"You’re just...extremely serious about this. I don’t think they’ll analyse the way we hold hands, Kook."
"But that’s their favourite thing to do," Jungkook replies. "The gossip mills love analysing every step you take, where your eyes wander, who you smile at." A note of bitterness threads through his words.
He’s been playing pro for just two years and has fallen victim to greedy people intruding on his life so many times already. Former friends who leaked private conversations, acquaintances who turned their brief interactions into tabloid fodder, even strangers who felt entitled to a piece of him just because he was in the public eye.
Jungkook searched for solace and silence at your place many times, trying to escape the madness. In the quiet of your dorm, breathing felt easier.
You never asked questions, never pried. In a world where everyone seemed out to get something from him, you just let him be, offering him the comfort of your presence without demanding anything in return.
"People were just criticising this dude – ah, who was it again?" Jungkook stares at the ceiling, raking through his thoughts. "I can’t remember his name, but this guy was getting called out for choosing the booth seat while making his girlfriend sit in the aisle seat."
"The aisle seat? Come on, it’s an unwritten rule that-" You fall silent once you catch Jungkook’s pointed expression. "I mean, yeah. It’s definitely wrong to make a big deal about it. Maybe she prefers sitting there," you shrug.
"But do you see what I mean?" he asks. "Whether you intend to or not, you’re always judging what others do. And that judgement only intensifies when it involves a celebrity."
"Ah, when did you become so famous Jeon Jungkook?" You sigh, looking down at your linked hands.
"I know, right? Two years ago, no one would’ve cared if I had a threesome." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And now I am being punished for it—kicked off the national team, and my best friend has to save me by fake dating me."
"I feel like this would make a good movie," you giggle.
“We have to practise hard, then," he says.
You pull your phone from your pocket. "What if we film ourselves kissing so we can monitor it better?" You set up your phone on a nearby shelf and position yourselves in front of the camera. "Don’t engaged couples do this? I feel like we’re practising for our wedding kiss."
"Oh, butterflies."
"Huh?" You stare at the way he holds his hand against his tummy.
"You just told me you want to marry me. That gave me butterflies."
You slap his arm. "Stop being silly, we have a whole nation to fool that we’re in love."
~
Hang outs with Jungkook often end with the two of you lounging on the couch, snacks scattered everywhere, and a movie playing on the TV.
"Next one?" Jungkook asks from his spot beside you, inching closer with his pleading doe eyes.
You try to push him away by the, but he doesn’t budge.
"I need to study. Like, for real." You had warned him before starting the movie, agreeing to watch only one, but he still tried his luck.
He holds up one finger. "Just one."
You push him off your body, and this time he allows it, his back slumping against the couch. The grumble of complaint in his throat gets muffled by his pursed lips.
"You’re smart. The material is probably set in your brain anyway. No need to revise anything."
You scoff at his bratty words.
"So you won’t ever need to ditch hangouts for football practice because you’re already so good at it?"
"Well, no." He drags the word out, brows furrowed as he considers your question, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "But I know you don’t need to study as much as you do. You’re just naturally smart."
"I wish, but I ace my exams because I study as much as I do."
"Aish," Jungkook mutters, standing up from the couch and stretching his limbs. His toned tummy peeks out from under his lifted shirt.
"Karina will be home soon anyway," you say. "And I’m not ready to play pretend in front of her yet." The thought of confessing to your roommate that Jungkook is now your boyfriend makes you shudder.
It was one of the conditions that made you briefly reconsider if you could really pull this off or if Jungkook should find another girl. You didn’t just have to act in front of the cameras – everyone had to believe that you and Jungkook are a couple, including your friends and family. You dread the day you have to tell your parents.
You know they once secretly hoped Jungkook would become your boyfriend when you were older, but as he became famous and the public started scrutinising his every move, your parents grew wary of his wild, reckless side.
You follow Jungkook to the door.
"You think she’ll believe us?"
"I dunno," you shrug. "Not sure if she’ll buy it. She’ll probably be suspicious since I’ve never talked about you in that way when we gossip, but I think we’ve practised enough to at least make it look like we love each other."
Jungkook nods and hugs you briefly. "We’ll figure it out." He steps out of your apartment, typing on his phone. "My manager sent me details about our first public appearance." He scans the text, but quickly looks up at you again with an annoyed frown. "Ah, so many words. I’ll just forward you the messages." With a sweet smile and a quick wave, he starts to leave, but you tug at the back of his shirt.
You cup his face, pulling him down to you, and plant a kiss on his lips.
"You’re my boyfriend now. Act like it."
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More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos
(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)
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People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.
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+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.
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The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ
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Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-
The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.
The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.
He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.
Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.
Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.
The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.
Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.
It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.
He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.
Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.
His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.
She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.
A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.
Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.
He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.
A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.
However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.
With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.
“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.
He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.
He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.
Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.
So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.
“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.
The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.
The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.
Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.
When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.
Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.
1K notes · View notes
writtenwhalien · 8 months ago
Text
jump then fall (into you) | part 1
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banner by the talented @jimilter​ 💖
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pairing ↠ jungkook x reader
genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut
word count ↠ 52k (split into 3 parts | pt 1. 24k)
18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., nipple play, protected sex etc.
summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?
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note. i'm backkkkk...?! with a disclaimer too:
I’ve been writing this on and off for pretty much two years so 1. it's not proofread bc i have not got the attention span to do that for 50k+ and I never got to read over what I previously wrote before working on it again so it might be a bit mismatched…?  2. I can’t say I’m hugely happy with this fic because it wasn’t a continuous workflow, it just doesn’t match the standards I have for myself but i tried and I’ll do better for the next ones which I’m excited about ;)
please interact and tell me how you find it! <3 it's been forever and i've missed you all 🥺
due to tumblr text post limitations, I’ve had to publish in three parts — links for part 2 + 3 can be found at the end.
 ↠ a part of the seven seas collab hosted by the wonderful yannie @ressjeon 🌊🥰 two years late but I made it :’)
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part 1
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“Gosh, Y/N, it’s a three week trip, you’re not going for a year!” 
The frustration in Jungkook’s voice has you whipping around, a pair of Valentino’s in one hand, Manolo’s in the other. “It’s Alex’s wedding cruise, Jungkook. Everyone and their parents are going to be there, mine included!” 
“Not mine!” he huffs, putting the last of your swimsuits into the suitcase open in front of him. You don’t blame him for being so frustrated, after all, he has been folding your clothes for the last hour while his single suitcase sits ready to go downstairs in the foyer. 
“Actually in case you’ve forgotten,” you start, stepping carefully through the piles of clothes in your massive closet to go towards him, “my mom has fed and even bathed you once after that time you wet yourself, so technically she’s as good as yours too.”
“That was one time, and I barely even remember it so it doesn’t count.”
“I do,” you smile, coming to stop in front of him. 
He sighs, looking down at the stilettos you’re holding. “We’ve been packing for hours already, you should’ve done this nights ago if it was gonna take this long.”
Now it’s you who’s sighing. “It’s been an hour not hours, besides we’re almost done now.”
Jungkook arches his brow, folding his arms in front of him. “Then what’re all your clothes doing on the floor?”
“They just need to go in one of the suitcases,” you smile. “See, we’re almost done.”
Unconvinced, Jungkook looks around at the mess but eventually nods. “Fine, but you can finish yourself, I’m going to eat—“
“No, wait, you can’t leave me!” you exclaim, reaching for Jungkook as your eyes go wide as a doe.
Telltale traces of a smile on Jungkook’s features let you know he was expecting this. He looks down at you, a loose curl hanging over his forehead. There was once a time when you were the taller one, but that only lasted a few years before Jungkook got in a good few inches between you. 
Both of you were just turning six when you first met although it always felt like Jungkook was a little younger to you in the first few years of your friendship, probably because of his naturally introverted nature which he more often steps out of when he feels comfortable to do so. But back then, he was just a wide eyed six year old who hid behind his mother as she came to work on her first day at the estate you call home. 
Knowing Jungkook was the same age as you and from a single parent household, your mom suggested that he could stay with you instead of his mom needing to hire someone to look after him while she worked. That was probably one of the best things that ever happened to the both of you. Jungkook became a better friend to you than many of those at your private school full of elementary school kids who wished they were ten years older than they were, and as the years went on there was nothing you didn’t do together. 
Naturally, your family got to know Jungkook well and being the little smartass he’s always been, Jungkook impressed your father so much that he helped him to apply for a scholarship position as you moved into high school. Of course Jungkook got in, and though it was only a partial scholarship, your father insisted on paying the rest of his fees which his mother found hard to accept but Jungkook promised your father to pay him back in the future. Fast forward a little more than a decade and Jungkook has paid back all of the fees thanks to being CEO of an affluent software company developed from his love of gaming. 
He struggles to fight his smile and you can see he’s contemplating going down or not, having to choose between food or you.  “What do you even need me for?” he asks, taking the smallest step closer, so small you don’t even notice. 
“Fashion advice?” you shrug, keeping an iron-like grip on his arms. 
He narrows his eyes. “You told me my fashion style is shit.”
“Was,” you correct, sliding your hands up his arms and down his chest with a satisfied smile. “Now is different though, I’ve rubbed off on you.” You glance down at his figure too, checking out his outfit. 
Jungkook chuckles as he follows your gaze. “Why would you need my help when you have yourself then, hm?”
Pouting at him, your arms slip around his waist and squeeze him in a hug. “You’re Mr Muscle, who else is gonna help me carry all this stuff?”
He pouts back sarcastically. “Is princess gonna break a heel if she carries her own suitcase?”
As you shrug, your brows remain furrowed. “Maybe, or a nail,” you say, letting one hand off his waist to show off a fresh manicure. As you wiggle your fingers ahead of him, he breaks into a smile. 
“You know you have a bunch of dudes in suits downstairs, just waiting to help you with this stuff. I’m pretty sure it’s their job.” 
“Yes, but they don’t give me fashion advice like you do,” you respond with a cheeky wink.
Jungkook takes the heels you’re holding off of you. “Here’s some advice — pack light.” He throws the heels behind him somewhere in your closet, earning a frown from you as your eyes follow where they land in the middle of your blown out closet. 
“Fine,” you sigh, looking back up at him. “I’ll lose the heels if you promise you’ll stay with me now.”
As a small smile grows on his lips, Jungkook’s arms find their way around your waist too. “Only if you promise you’ll make me a sandwich before we go?” His smile grows knowingly as he gives in to your charm — you’ve always found it’s easy to encourage Jungkook to go along with whatever you want, he just can’t seem to say no to you. 
“PB and J?” you ask with a smile that matches his.
He nods once, eyes shimmering as he still gazes at you. 
“Of all the foods you could ask for, it’s always PB and J,” you laugh.
He shrugs, letting go as you move to finish packing. “There’s nothing else I want.”
Arching a brow, you throw a few pairs of linen pants towards one of the suitcases in your closet. “We literally have a live-in chef, you know, Frederico, the guy you have a secret handshake with?”
“Yes, what of him?” Jungkook says huffing. 
“And you still want PB and J when he can make you anything?”
Jungkook steps towards your suitcase and picks up a pair of pants to roll. “I know that, but I just need some food in me and quick, so the simple option is best.”
Stepping forward, you take the pants off of him and roll them yourself. “If you would be patient enough to wait a few more minutes then you could have a sandwich that’ll fill you up for longer than half an hour.”
“And if you didn’t have more clothes than half the country combined then we would probably already be on our way to the airport,” Jungkook responds sassily, cocking his head.
“Don’t get smart with me or I won’t make your sandwich,” you sass back.
“I’ll just ask Freddie to make it for me and you don’t get Mr Muscle.”
Grumbling, you shove the rolled pants back into his hands as he laughs, taking them to place in one of the open suitcases. Not long after, all of your suitcases are packed and in the car, ready to go. 
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The drive to the airport takes a little under an hour and upon arriving, the car takes you straight to the jet. Apparently you did take a little too long packing as your mom so pointedly lets you know after arriving, but luckily for you there’s a few others missing from the families you’re taking the jet with. With time to kill, Jungkook and you have a few idle chats with the others, most of whom you went to school with so the conversation comes easily but eventually you settle into the seats opposite your parents. 
“How was your drive here, darling?” your mom asks while closing her bag after a little skin TLC. 
“It was fine,” you answer, pulling out your own bag full of the skincare you deemed necessary to carry for the plane trip. 
“And how did you find it, Jungkook?” 
Jungkook shrugs. “It was good.”
“Lovely,” she smiles. “It’s going to be a wonderful trip.”
From beside her, your dad sighs, putting away his tablet. “Do we know how long the flight is to Marbella?”
“Oh, honey,” your mom frowns disapprovingly. “Don’t be such a grumpy lump before we’re even in the air.”
Jokingly, your father looks at Jungkook and you, and then gives your mom a side eye. “I just had a few important meetings that Chris accidentally scheduled for today so I’m wondering if I could still make them online.”
Dismissively, your mom waves her hand. “No work talk, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”
“Alright, you’re right,” your dad concedes. “Maybe to start we could get a few drinks then, eh?” He raises his brow at Jungkook who approves with a big smile and both of them flag down a flight attendant. 
Once there’s a drink in everyone’s hand, your parents settle into conversation with Jungkook and you. 
“So are you excited to see Alex, Y/N?” your father asks. 
“Absolutely,” you smile. “Though I think I’m more excited to see Sophia and Alias, it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to spend time with them.”
“Oh, Jungkook, you must be excited to see Sophia too,” your mom says with a bit of a cheeky smile.
Jungkook chuckles nervously, glancing at you though you’re sporting the same smile as your mother. “I mean, yeah, we’re good friends.”
“Well if you weren’t, things would be pretty awkward,” your dad laughs before helping himself to some food he ordered with the drinks. 
“Yeah,” Jungkook mutters, managing a small laugh.
“Oh come on, guys,” you laugh, nudging him. “She’s happy you’re coming too.”
He nods appreciatively before taking a sip of his drink. “It’s her parents I’m more worried about.”
At this, your mom laughs too. “Oh, Leon and Helena love you really, dear, it’s all just for a laugh.” She leans forwards and squeezes his hand with her usual tender smile. “Though if it really bothers you, we could have a word with them, without letting on it’s coming from you of course.”
Smiling, Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, that’s really sweet of you but it’s alright, I can take the daggers I get from them,” he chuckles. “After all, what I did was pretty awful.”
“You were sixteen,” you say, patting on the last of your moisturiser. 
He shrugs. “I know, but she’s their little princess.” He looks across at you and then glances at your parents. “It’s like someone doing that to you, your parents would be mad.” 
At that, your father hums in agreement.
“Heck, I’d be mad,” Jungkook adds. 
Looking at him, he shrugs again and smiles. Before you can say anything, he carries on. “Sixteen or not, I literally left Sophia on one of the most important nights of her life.”
“Yeah, it was pretty awful at the time,” you sigh, remembering the night as clear as day.
Almost ten years ago now, the night of both yours and Sophia’s entry into society, the debutante ball. For you, the night was a bit of a blur with it being the first night Alex and you made things official in your relationship, sealing it with a first kiss and many more that evening. It was a magical and whimsical night, and although Alex and you didn’t last, your love for each other still remains as best friends and you couldn’t be happier for him getting married to his dream girl now. 
For Sophia, the night went a little differently... She'd had a crush on Jungkook for a while since, being Alex’s younger sister, she’d seen him often with you. After he found out, he asked her to be her escort to the ball. She of course said yes and everything seemed to be going perfectly until the moment Jungkook was supposed to escort her down the stairs but he had completely disappeared. Sophia was left all alone and completely embarrassed, even after Alias, the ever caring older brother, stepped in and acted as her escort. Jungkook still hasn’t told you the reason he left so abruptly that night. All you remember is not being able to reach him the whole weekend, even when you tried going to his house he was never home. When you finally saw him, he told you he didn’t want to talk about it so you didn’t. 
Of course, everyone else forgot about the incident and even Sophia forgave him after he apologised profusely and endlessly, but Mr and Mrs Cirillo were less forgiving for a while, but after many years it’s just become a joke between them. The fact that he’s invited on the cruise just shows it’s all in the past now. 
However that doesn’t mean Mr and Mrs Cirillo ever pass up an opportunity to remind him of the past… 
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“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N, dear,” Mrs Cirillo says, bringing you in for a hug. 
Mr Cirillo stands behind her, taking your hand as soon as his wife lets go. “How was the flight here?”
“It was good, I slept for most of it really.” Stepping away, you turn to look at Jungkook as he approaches them with a meek smile.
Mrs Cirillo smiles back, her words carrying a playful lilt. “There he is, the heartbreaker.”
Jungkook lowers his head at that and you can see his nose scrunching a little. “That’s me, unfortunately,” he says, stepping into Mrs Cirillo’s arms for a brief hug. 
When he takes Mr Cirillo’s hand to shake, the older man shows the same playfulness as his wife. “Nice to see you again, Jungkook. My favourite and least favourite man on board.” 
Jungkook chuckles and Mr Cirillo pulls him in for a hug. “Stay out of trouble, yes?” 
“Of course,” Jungkook smiles, stepping away to stand next to you as your parents walk out onto the main deck.
Their eyes light up as the old friends all greet each other and you take Jungkook’s hand and slip away together before you get roped into a conversation. 
“You alright?” you ask casually as you scan the people all on the deck.
“Good, thanks,” he responds with a gentle squeeze of your hand. He knows that you know how he finds it a little tedious sometimes every time Sophia’s parents mention the past, but he knows he messed up so he doesn’t ever complain about it. In a way, it annoys you when the Cirillo’s always mention it but you know it’s not your place to say anything, especially if Jungkook hasn’t said anything. 
Looking around, you take in many of the familiar faces while scanning the crowds for Alex or one of his siblings. There’s no unfamiliar faces on this part of the deck, and seeing all the waiters walking around offering canapés and drinks, you realise the Cirillo’s must’ve rented out this part of the deck. The excited buzz amongst everyone extends to you as you turn to look out past the balcony towards the sea, stepping towards it and taking Jungkook with you. 
Taking a deep breath of the fresh sea, enjoying the warmth glowing from the sun as a steady breeze blows. Exhaling, you turn around to Jungkook beaming. 
It seems like he was already watching you, waiting as though he knows you’re gonna say something now. Seeing you smile, his corner of his lips turn too. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“Very,” you nod, turning around to look out again, lowering the sunglasses from your head to stop from squinting. 
“Y/N!” A familiar voice calls your name and you turn around, breaking into the biggest smile when you see Alex approaching, his arms outstretched. “Jungkook!” 
You meet him halfway, excitedly skipping into his hug. He hugs you tight, releasing a sigh as he lets go and hugs Jungkook. “Gosh, it’s been so bloody long, I’ve missed you guys.” 
“Missed you more, buddy,” Jungkook smiles, patting Alex’s back before he lets go. “Congrats on the wedding too, we’re well excited to be here for you.”
Alex laughs, flashing his perfect pearly smile. “Honestly, I’m happier to have you guys here. Half of the people here haven’t even spoken to me in years.” He glances around before adding, “you know how it is.” 
“Mhm,” you nod, squeezing his arm. “You’ve got us though, we’re here for you every step of the way.” 
“Thanks,” he responds, taking two drinks from a passing waiter to give to you both. “You were allowed plus ones though, when do I get to meet them?” He looks across at both of you expectantly, though you see a subtle raise of his brow matched with a small smile that seems to hint he already knows the answer.
“Well, we didn’t really get the chance to ask anyone,” Jungkook answers, looking sideways at you. “So we just thought we’d come with each other.”
“Ah.” The smile on Alex’s lips grows. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Because you know how busy we’ve both been,” you say, shrugging lightly before taking a long sip of your drink.
“Hm, that’s it,” Alex says quietly. 
“BOO!” Large hands tap your shoulders before the man himself jumps in front of you. 
“Alias,” you squeal excitedly, returning the hug he’s already given you. Slightly more wild albeit still as focused as his younger brother, Alias is the eldest of the Cirillo siblings and has become more of an older brother to you over the years.
“You look like you’ve grown,” he says, moving back and beaming as he pulls Jungkook in for a hug. “Both of you.”
“We literally saw you like a month ago,” Jungkook chuckles. 
“Really?” Alias raises his brows in surprise. “Damn, you kids grow fast.” 
“I could say the same thing about that moustache of yours,” you say. 
He smiles smugly. “Looks good right?”
Shrugging, you lean against the balcony. “I think you looked better without it.”
Alias frowns, hand coming up to stroke his moustache subconsciously. “Really?” he asks, looking at you in time to see you raising your glass to your lips to hide your smile. 
“I knew you liked it,” he laughs. “Apparently a lot of people do.”
“Ah, Alias, no one wants to know,” Alex grimaces at his older brother.
Before Alias can defend himself, Jungkook says, “I do.” Alex and you both look at him and he shrugs. “Might grow mine out.”
Alias laughs, throwing his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “C’mon buddy, I’ll tell you all about it.”
As Alias pulls him away, Alex steps to stand next to you and both of you watch them walk away with Alias talking in a hushed tone as though no one else can find out. 
As you watch them walk away with a fond smile on your face, Alex turns to you.  “So, how have you been?”
Still absentmindedly watching Jungkook and Alias, you hum. “Great.”
“How’s work?”
“Mm, I actually just secured a deal with Park Motors last week.”
Glancing at Alex, you see his brows raise. “Impressive.”
“Yeah, it was a pretty big win for the company and dad was proud of me.” 
Alex smiles. “And were you proud of yourself?”
As Jungkook’s head disappears from the crowd, you turn to face Alex too, taking another sip of your drink. “I know people think I’m just riding off my parent’s success, which yeah, it’s true for the most part, but after doing this all myself I was pretty proud.”
“Good,” he grins. “You should be. You may be one of the most princess-ed girls I know,” he adds with a teasing lilt, “but you’re also one of the most hard working.”
Laughing, you nudge him lightly. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” He leans against the balcony too, pulling down his shades as he turns towards the sea where the sun shines down on the horizon. “What about things with Jungkook?”
Shrugging, you take a small sip. “He’s good.”
Alex glances at you from the corner of his eye with the curve of his lips growing. “Hm, anything else?”
Levelling his face, you break into a smile. “Oh, Alex, you’re never gonna let this go are you?”
He smiles, shaking his head. “Not as long as I see it’s there.” 
Straightening your expression a little, you tilt your head. “But there’s nothing there.”
“Y/N, there’s everything there,” he says, matching your tone. 
“Alex, come on,” you say quietly, traces of a smile returning. 
He shrugs. “I make a perfectly valid point.”
Turning towards the deck again, you sigh. “I don’t see it.”
“I do!” Alex almost exclaims excitedly. “And I have for the longest time.” Letting out a small laugh, he puts his arm around you and squeezes gently. “His big doe eyes used to torture me all the time when I was dating you.”
You can’t help but laugh at that. Jungkook does have doe eyes but you don’t remember seeing them often while dating Alex. 
“Seriously,” Alex says, fighting his case onwards. “I dated you for what, almost a year I think and I’ve never seen anyone sulk for that long.”
“He wasn’t sulking.”
“Listen, I’m almost a married man now, Y/N, and I can tell you all the looks of love…”
When you arch a brow quizzically, Alex sighs and continues. “That boy was sulking for weeks because he hated seeing you with someone else.”
“Oh come on, maybe he had a crush in the past but he’s a grown man now and has had plenty of his own romances.”
Now it’s Alex who’s looking at you with his brow raised. “Like who?”
It takes you a moment to think of a name but a few still come to mind. “Remember Alia, the intern from my dad's company?” you ask rather smugly, although Alex’s reaction shows no surprise. 
“The girl who he went out with like five times.”
You shrug. “That counts for something.
“It really doesn’t,” Alex says matter-of-factly. “Anyway, who else?”
“Hmmm… ooh, Rachel, that super hot secretary!”
“Y/N, that was a one night stand, it literally doesn’t count.”
Sighing, you rack your memory for more, and then comes the answer. “Valentina.”
Alex almost snorts, prompting you to frown at him.
“What?” you question. “That was a real romance, there were feelings there.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alex almost snorts again. “The most real thing about that relationship was the Chopard watch Valentina tried to use to bribe Jungkook back to her.”
Wincing, you remember the finer details of that supposedly real romance. You turn back out to face the horizon, pulling your own shades down. “Alright, I guess I see your point.”
Gently pushing his point, Alex carries on. “Not to mention that I was your last serious relationship, which was how many years ago now?”
You simply shrug. “I’m not looking for anyone.”
Alex hums thoughtfully. “Or you’ve already ‘found’ your someone.” This earns a glare from you but Alex ignores this. “He’s practically your boyfriend already!” 
“In what way?!”
“You do almost everything together!” Alex exclaims back. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had sex already!” 
“Alex!” Something in your stomach curls unbidden at the thought. “We haven’t had sex!” you whisper hotly, glancing around to make sure no one heard. 
“Sorry,” Alex mumbles, looking over his shoulder too. Luckily there’s no one nearby, everyone seems too busy engaging in their own excited conversations about the weeks to come. 
Everything you’re hearing now isn’t news to you, you know plenty of people have questioned the relationship between Jungkook and you, and you totally get why, but you’ve been friends since such a young age and that’s perfectly okay. Neither you nor Jungkook have made a move to take things further and maybe that’s just how things are meant to stay, despite what Alex seems to think. 
“Also, what friend agrees to come on a 3 week long cruise for you, knowing full well my father doesn’t miss a single opportunity to roast him.” 
“Here’s here for you, not me.”
“Actually,” Alex raises a finger, “I invited him before you and he said he would meet us in Italy because things were busy with the company. I invited you after him, and the next thing I know is Jungkook is calling me telling me he’ll be coming with you from the start.”
As your eyes narrow, you start to think of how that happened. After Alex invited you, you texted Jungkook straight away to ask if he’d come with you as a date to the wedding. As soon as he said yes, you started waffling on about how fun the trip was going to be and it must’ve been after that that Jungkook told Alex he’d come sooner than he previously planned. 
“Well, any best friend would do that,” you say simply. 
Alex pushes his lips out, brows raised. “I’m your best friend and I wouldn’t do that for you.”
“Hey!” You shove him hard but he barely moves. 
“Oh c’mon, you wouldn’t do it for me either.” Alex looks at you with a smile. 
“Yeah,” you relent. “I probably wouldn’t unless you really needed me.”
Just then, you see Jungkook walking towards you, holding a platter of something. He simply beams when you frown at him in confusion. 
From beside you, Alex raises his glass to his lips. “I’m telling you, the boy is whipped,” he says quietly before taking a sip. 
Jungkook comes within ears width before you can say anything.  “Y/N, look,” he holds out the tray he’s holding, “they have those little cracker things you like with capa, uh, capa-something.” He pushes it closer, gesturing for you to take one while looking pleased with himself.
Looking at the platter, your lips curl mindlessly into a smile. “Caponata,” you say, correcting him gently. 
It’s when Jungkook remembers the little things like this that his place in your heart grows and you’re grateful for having him as your best friend. 
“Yeah, that’s the one,” he smiles. “Here, I got them for you.”
Your brows furrow together as you look down. “The whole platter?”
“Well, yeah,” he says looking down too. “You like them and I’m sure there’s more going around for everyone else.”
From beside you, Alex starts coughing and you’re more than certain you hear the word “whipped” coming out of his mouth. One glance at him proves you’re right as he raises his brows before looking away. 
Jungkook, not having noticed the word Alex let slip, is eating one of the canapés before holding one out for you too. Smiling and thanking him, you take it. 
“Good right?” Jungkook asks, his mouth full as you also eat one whole. 
“So good,” you mumble, brows furrowed as you keep eating. 
Jungkook holds the tray towards Alex. “Want one?” 
“I’m good,” he smiles. “I’ll leave you two to it though, I’ve still got some guests I need to greet.” His smile seems weary though you don’t blame him, sometimes the supposed family friends in your circle don’t seem very much like friends. After saying a temporary goodbye, he takes his leave, leaving Jungkook and you to continue devouring the canapés. 
For a moment, you’re both quiet, save the sounds of pleasure from eating, then Jungkook speaks. “Sophia’s not coming with us by the way.”
Eyes wide, you turn to look at him. “What?!” you question, mouth half full. 
Jungkook takes one glance at you and chuckles. His thumb comes up and wipes something close to your lips. “She’s joining us later, from Nice.”
“Oh.” Your lips turn into a pout. “Who am I gonna hang out with?” 
“You-bo-me,” Jungkook says with his mouthful again.  
“No,” you sigh. “I don’t got you. As soon as Alias is about, you and him turn into Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”
A small laugh escapes Jungkook's lips and you frown at him.
“I’m sorry,” he laughs again, placing the mostly empty tray down on a nearby table. “Look,” he takes your hands and squeezes them, “I promise I’ll stay with you, we can just hang out with Alias too.”
“Yeah, I know,” you say looking up at him. “It’s fine though, you can hang out with whoever you want. You don’t have to stay with me.”
Jungkook hides an amused smile. “I’ll stay with you, we can’t have our princess being alone,” he chuckles again, letting go of your hands to squeeze your cheeks. 
“Mm, my makeup,” you mumble, prying his fingers off your cheeks. “And you can stay with me if you really want to,” you shrug, hiding your smug expression. 
Jungkook scoffs, laughing as you put your sunglasses back on. “I changed my mind.”
“Hey!” you exclaim, and before you get another word out, Jungkook is laughing, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in.
“I’m joking, now let’s go say hi to the Morgan’s, they’ve been looking this way since Alex was here.”
“They’re probably just judging us,” you grumble. 
Jungkook smiles, turning you around and walking with you. “More reason to say hello.”
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Most of the first day is spent the same way, greeting some families who you like and some who you don’t but at least you get to do it with a glass of champagne and Jungkook by your side. By the early evening, everyone is settling into their cabins and exploring the cruise ship which feels more like a palace. 
It’s well past midnight when Jungkook is walking you to your cabin which unfortunately is on another level to yours – Alex mentioned he couldn’t get your cabins closer since Jungkook was supposed to be joining later.
“I am so ready to knockout,” you yawn, pulling out the keycard.
“Make sure you don’t forget to take your makeup off,” Jungkook says as a gentle reminder.
Turning around at the threshold of your door, you look at him as he leans against the wall opposite. “I won’t, and you don’t forget to shower, you still stink of chlorine.”
Jungkook chuckles quietly, careful not to disturb any of the neighbouring cabins who are most likely asleep. Alias and him decided it would be fun to cannonball into the deck pool during prohibited hours and subsequently ended up running away from some of the cruise crew and you just happened to be with them even though you refused to jump in because it’s breaking the rules.
“I’m making you join us next time,” he says.
“That’s never gonna happen.”
Smiling slightly, Jungkook tilts his head. “That sounds like a challenge.”
Laughing, you step out of your room towards him. “I wouldn’t try, Jeon.” Raising your hand, you pinch his nose. “You’ll just fail.”
“Or,” Jungkook raises his brows, taking your hand into his, “it could be one of the best nights you spend here, plus running away is fun,” he grins. 
“You call that fun?” you laugh. 
“Tell me it wasn't.”
You shrug. “I have fun whenever I'm with you anyway.” 
Jungkook smiles, and so do you. It’s not hard to be honest around him, it never has been. That’s probably why you’ve been best friends for so long. “So all the time?” he says. 
“All the time,” you repeat, laughing. 
Lips still holding a gentle smile, Jungkook looks down at you and for a second you wait for him to say something but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he releases a small sigh and pulls you into a hug. 
You feel your body relax in his embrace, the weariness of today’s jet lag and socialising and cheeky antics slowly melting away as you breathe in the comforting smell of his cologne. Even though it’s tainted with chlorine, his arms around you seem to make it worth putting up with. 
His hands slide up your back, patting you softly. “I’ll see you in the morning, hm.”
“Just don’t wake me up before noon,” you mumble.
He laughs, pulling away. “Breakfast ends at 11.”
Groaning, you step towards your door again. “I wish Freddie was with us.”
Chuckling quietly, he starts to make his way towards his cabin. “Good night, Y/N.”
“Night,” you wave, seeing him disappear from view as the door closes. You almost collapse onto your bed but manage to trudge to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and get into your pyjamas before finally sinking into bed and falling asleep.
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Knock knock knock
Knock knock.
“Y/N?"
Knock knock knock. “Y/N!”
Grumbling, you pull your pillow over your head.
There’s a few more impatient knocks before you hear Jungkook. “Come on, or I’m going down without you.”
“Go,” you groan, tossing in bed. “I’ll eat later.”
Then you hear a series of whining outside the door. “It's already almost 11, it's embarrassing going by myself you have to come with me, please.”
With one final groan, you force yourself out of bed and open the door. “I said not before noon, Koo.”
“Please,” he says, lips forming an effortless pout. “I’m hungry.”
Well you can’t say no now. Sighing, you step aside for him to come in. “Give me twenty minutes.”
Jungkook slumps onto your bed, already dressed casually in a white tee and black shorts. “You have ten.”
With Jungkook rushing you, you meet halfway and manage to get ready in 15 minutes instead. It seems the Cirillo’s spared no expense and managed to keep an entire upper deck private for all of the meals served on sea days. There’s a breakfast buffet laid out inside but before you can even grab yourself a plate, you see your mom frowning at you from her seat outside. She raises her brows and points to her wrist, her not so subtle way of reminding you you’re late.
With a big smile, you mouth sorry and she just laughs to herself, shaking her head. 
“Y/N,” Jungkook calls your name. You look over at him and he’s already standing behind a few people up for seconds, waiting his turn. Walking over, you take a plate and glance down at the table ahead of you. 
“This looks good,” you think out loud. 
“It does, doesn’t it?” Jungkook says, glancing around. He frowns at something, moving his head to get a better look. 
“What? What’s wro–?”
His eyes widen and suddenly he’s crouching enough to remove the inches difference between you, hands gripping your arms. “Hide me.”
“What?” 
“Hide me,” he repeats, the insistence in his voice clearer than before. 
Putting your plate down, you push his shoulders lower. “I am,” you whisper harshly. “But why?” you say, glancing around. 
“No, don’t look,” Jungkook says, his tone becoming something like a whine. “She’ll come over if she sees you.”
“Who?”
Jungkook groans, eyes closing. “Why is she here?”
Ignoring his request not to look, you turn around and scan the room, looking for any familiar faces while your mind goes through a mental list of names of people who could make Jungkook want to hide before a whole breakfast buffet. Just as your name arrives at a potential suspect, the woman herself comes into your view.
“Oh.” 
Tall, glamorous and even graceful, Valentina Forero struts her preppy, perfect figure, dressed head to toe in designer and a handbag so small you’re sure not even her phone can fit in there. 
Immediately, you look away from her and down at Jungkook. He’s already looking up at you with a weary expression. Your lips form an apologetic smile and he sighs, a string of curse words coming out from his mouth in the form of a hushed whisper while he stays pressed against your side trying to hide himself from view.
Of all the things that could possibly go wrong, this has to be the single worst thing.
Valentina is Jungkook’s ex friend with benefits of almost a year. They met shortly after college at your grad party and they started off as casual and eventually there were some feelings involved but they never really bloomed. 
When Jungkook tried to end things after some months, Valentina had a lot to say and for some reason just didn’t want to let him go even though she wasn’t looking for something real. 
You don’t blame her, Jungkook attracts people like a magnet, but their relationship was a little more on the toxic side with some jealousy and so many stupid arguments no doubt stemming from the feelings that budded but never grew. It was better for both of them to call it quits, so they never made things official but to call Valentina anything less than an ex would be an injustice to some of the things they went through.
Stealing a glance at her again, you watch for a few seconds as she makes her way through the families, greeting each one with a bright smile.
As she moves, Jungkook moves too, trying to stay hidden from her view behind you. His head presses against your arm, cheek almost against your left boob.
“Um, Jungkook,” you say, smiling. “I get you’re trying to hide but uh, I don’t think this is a good look…”
“What?” he says, still distracted as he glances towards where Valentina is.
“We’re standing at a breakfast bar on a family cruise and your face is pretty close to my boobs.”
He looks up at you, eyes widening when he realises. “Oh, sorry.” He stands straight, turning to face the bar instead. 
“It’s cool,” you answer, picking up your plate again and nudging him to move forward. “”I’m sure we’ve given the Collins something to talk about for today.” Turning to your right at the eyes ogling you, you smile plastically at Mr and Mrs Collins.
“Sorry,” Jungkook mutters again absentmindedly as he slowly fills his plate.
“Jungkook,” you say, nudging him again as you fill your own. “It’s gonna be fine, there’s so many people here I’m sure you won’t see each other that much, and even if you do, you have me.” You’re already beaming when he looks at you, and his own eyes crease in the corners and he smiles too. “Thanks. I guess you’re right but please don’t ever let me be alone with her.”
“I won’t,” you laugh. “Although once she knows you’re here, I’m sure she’ll try to hookup with you at least once.”
“I hope not,” Jungkook sighs. “She’s not a bad girl but I just don’t wanna go back there, y’know?”
“Mhm, I know,” you say, turning towards the table your parents are seated at. “But what I don’t know is how we’re gonna get to sit without her seeing you.” You nod in the direction of your parents.
Jungkook glances around. “Let’s go sit with Alex and Thalia,” he says, nodding in the opposite direction.
Stealthily, the two of you make your way out onto the deck and approach Alex and his fiancee unseen.
“Oh, Y/N,” Thalia beams, leaning in for a hug as soon as she sees you. “You look beautiful.” 
You snort. “I woke up half an hour ago, I definitely look awful.”
“Absolutely not,’ Thalia says with a gracious wave of her hand before Jungkook gets up to greet her too. “You both look lovely and I'm so happy you’re here!”
“Of course,” you say, smiling at both her and Alex. “We’re even happier to be here and so excited for you.”
“Thank you, angel,” she winks.
“Jungkook, are you okay?” Alex asks quietly, frowning as he watches Jungkook carefully. Glancing to your right, you also notice Jungkook is hunched over his food.
“You’re just drawing more attention to yourself like that,” you let him know before turning back to Alex. “Valentina is here,” you say with a small raise of your brow and both Alex and Thalia immediately let out a little “ah”.
Thalia winces apologetically when she glances back at Jungkook. “I do believe that may be on me. My mother is in the same club as her mother so it seems an invitation was deemed non-negotiable, unfortunately,” she adds, placing subtle emphasis on the last word.
Jungkook shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, I was gonna end up seeing her again eventually at some point.”
Alex coughs, his expression changing. “I do believe that time is coming sooner than you want though.”
Jungkook frowns but you understand what Alex means, as does Thalia as you both look up just in time to see Valentina a few feet away, approaching your table.
With a smile that’s far too innocent for her, she stands at the edge of the table closest to Jungkook. “Well, hello there.”
Alex, being the sweetheart he is, is the first to respond to her greeting, and without surprise, Thalia follows quickly. “Thank you for coming,” Alex says as he gives her a quick hug.
“Thank you for having me.” Valentina steps to the side to greet Thalia too. “And congratulations, I’m so happy for both of you!”
“Thank you,” Thalia says with a genuine smile. As she takes her seat, you get up to greet her too. 
“It’s nice to see you again, Val,” you say as you meet her in a brief hug, although you can’t say you mean it but you hold no animosity towards her. 
“You too, Y/N,” she winks. 
Before she even releases you, Jungkook is getting up and already avoiding eye contact with her. “Hey,” he says, just as she leans towards him too. 
“Hello, Jungkook.” When she gives him a hug, it’s a little longer than your own but Jungkook doesn’t push away despite his expression looking like he wants to. 
Alex, Thalia and you have to fight to keep your smiles contained.
“Gosh, it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Valentina says as she steps back and takes a seat. 
“I guess,” Jungkook says, showing little expression as he sits back down and resumes eating his breakfast. 
“Oh, come on, it’s been almost two years.” She gives him a knowing expression before flicking her hair behind her shoulder with a flamboyant flair that’s signature for Valentina. “I’m sure you missed me.” She leans her elbows on the table. “I know I’ve missed you.”
Seeing Jungkook’s constipated expression, you step in to help him out. “We all missed you, Valentina,” you smile. “It’s impossible not to.” That’s not a lie either, although she was a big personality to deal with sometimes, she still knew how to have fun and was great to talk to. 
“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, returning your smile before turning her attention back to Jungkook. “You still look as good as you always have too, Kookie.” She leans forward and squeezes his bicep, maybe one too many times. “You’re still going to the gym I see.”
Jungkook stiffens next to you, meanwhile, your eyes are fixated on her hand on his arm. In a gesture of support, you discreetly slip your hand behind his elbow. 
Sitting across from you, your friends both notice this. Then, the cogs in the brilliant mind of Alexander Cirillo turn and he comes up with what can only be a genius idea. Perhaps it's all the romance he’s been experiencing recently with his own fiancee, but Alex is convinced that this can only have one outcome, the only possible outcome – the one that’s been written in the stars since Jungkook and you met so many years ago, he’s sure of it.
Beaming, Alex looks at Valentina. “Don’t they look so good together?”
She pauses then frowns. “Together?”
Your own expression matches Valentina’s as you glance at Alex too. 
“Yes, together,” he repeats as a fact, smiling at Jungkook and you before looking at Valentina.
“You’ve heard, no? Jungkook and Y/N are together.”
From next to you, Jungkook swallows hard and your hand subconsciously tightens around his arm. Both of you are staring at Alex and he just gives you a subtle raise of his brow. 
“Oh, my,” Valentina smiles, and although there’s some kind of genuinity to it, there’s more you can see but haven’t got the mental capacity to try to decipher right now when you’re still trying to figure out what Alex is doing.
 “I should’ve known this was gonna happen, you always were inseparable,” she says with somewhat of an eye roll. 
Jungkook laughs awkwardly, but he’s not stupid and he knows Alex isn’t either. This is one surefire way he can keep Valentina and any of her advances away from him for the next three weeks. All he has to do is pretend to be dating you… how hard can that be?
“Yeah, I guess it was meant to be,” he says, sounding a little stilted. 
You’re still sitting a little dumbfounded but Thalia also gives you an expression that tells you to improvise better. The most you can manage is a meek smile. 
Jungkook responds almost as awkwardly, putting his arm around you which makes Alex laugh.
“Oh, don’t be so coy,” he says, sneaking in a wink to you as Valentina’s eyes remain locked on you both. “It’s been almost what? Eight months?”
“Uh, yeah, almost,” you answer, suddenly feeling shy with the way Jungkook’s hand is gripping your waist. 
It’s not like he’s never had his hand on your waist before — his face was all up in your boobs only fifteen minutes ago — but the feeling remains. It makes your cheeks go warm, your heart races a little faster and your fingers go fuzzy. 
You’re sure it’s showing on your face but Valentina doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she must think it’s down to you finding this awkward. 
“Well, congratulations to you too then,” she says, wearing a smile that doesn’t actually seem anything less than genuine, but you’re aware there’s more to her words.
“Thank you,” Jungkook and you say in unison. 
Valentina nods, taking it as her cue to leave. “I’ll see you all around, and except for the engaged couple who get a pass, let’s keep the pda to a minimum please,” she adds airily, words directed to Jungkook and you as she saunters off. 
“Can’t promise anything with these two,” Alex calls out after her.
When he looks back at you, he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Thalia purses her lips in a smile that resembles a child trying not to laugh while they’re getting told off. 
Turning to them, you burst. “What the hell was that?” you say hotly, seeming more flustered than anything else. 
Alex shrugs. “Sorry, it was the best thing I could think of.” 
“It could be worse,” Thalia adds with a smile that’s supposed to be apologetic but the gleam in her eyes tells you she’s finding this just as amusing as her fiancé. 
Then, Jungkook shifts from beside you and only now do you realise you’re still holding his arm. “Well,” he says, briefly glancing down as you let go, “I guess we’re dating now.”
With a small raise of your brows, you shrug lightly and try not to show any signs of how flustered you’re feeling. “I guess so.”
When you meet his gaze, for a second you go still and think of what it means, how might you be expected to act with Jungkook — but really, it doesn’t seem that much different from how you already are now. Except of course, if you ever had to indulge in any public displays of affection, cheek kisses, lingering hugs, maybe even a peck on the lips…  
The thought of it all sets loose a swirl of butterflies in your stomach and only then do you realise that your gaze is still locked on Jungkook, and he too, is still staring at you. 
With those butterflies still swarming, you abruptly break away from his gaze and notice the tips of his ears are turning pink. You wonder if he’s thinking the same as you right now. 
“See, already believable.”
Alex’s voice interrupts your thoughts and when you turn to flare at him, he’s got a smug smirk on his face. 
“You’re supposed to be smart,” you say with a sigh, pushing down the butterflies that it almost seems like Alex knows all about. “Couldn’t have come up with something smarter?”
“This is smart,” Alex says with a hint of sass.
“How?” you sass back. 
Leaning back, he puts his arm around Thalia as his smirk grows into a smile. “You’ll see, just give it some time,” he sighs, punctuating his sentence with a wink. 
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The end of the first night in Cartagena is celebrated with a formal dinner at a private venue with the most beautiful view of the coast. 
The Cirillo’s had a special menu created of authentic foods from the town and the dishes were nothing less than exquisite. So much so that Alias and you are both slumped on a hammock on the balcony with bellies full and happy. A few of the guests walk past and side eye you both, probably because Alias has ungraciously undone the top button of his suit pants but it doesn’t bother either of you. 
“Probably shouldn’t have eaten so much,” you mumble, looking up at the night sky.
“We’ve still got dessert,” Alias sighs, patting his belly. 
“Well sitting there isn’t going to help,” Jungkook’s voice says from behind you. 
Turning your head, you smile when you see Jungkook with two dessert plates in his hand. He comes and sits next to you, handing one to each of you.
Alias still manages to devour his serving in silence, but you take a little longer to eat, wondering if Valentina might be somewhere near now that Jungkook is here; you’re certain she’ll be keeping a closer eye on you both so you ought to be making a conscious effort to act more like a couple but you’re not really sure what else to do. Jungkook bringing you dessert seems couple-ish enough, even though it’s what you would do on a usual night anyway.
The three of you fall into a comfortable silence and you give Alias the rest of your dessert to finish as you collapse into the hammock again. As you do so, you feel Jungkook’s hand brush against yours and immediately you glance down at your hands, noticing how your arms and thighs are touching too. Again, it’s nothing unusual for you, but you start to wonder why it feels a little different now you’ve noticed it.
“Don’t look now,” he says, voice barely a murmur, “but she’s watching us.”
When you hum quietly in acknowledgement, his fingers brush the back of yours tentatively again and for some reason unrelated to the wind that’s blowing, you feel your skin prickling. Releasing a small breath, Jungkook curls his hand, fingers slipping between yours. The pads of your fingers press against him and you return your focus to the night sky above rather than the weird way your heart is beating now.
From your other side, Alias lets out a satisfied sigh before sitting back beside you. “So,” he says without missing a beat, “what’s up between you guys?”
“Hm?” You look at him with a small frown.
“You heard me,” he repeats with the signature boyish grin that he and his brother share. It’s enough to let you know that he knows.
“We’re, uh, together,” Jungkook answers.
Alias snorts. “You gotta sound more convincing than that, Jungkook.”
“I’d like to see you pretend to date someone,” you say, nudging his side.
Shifting to face you, Alias raises a brow. “That’s easy, watch and learn, lover boy.” He leans closer, arm moving across your chest to touch some hair behind your ears.
You get his point – Alias is close enough to lean in and kiss you if he wanted to, and the small action seems intimate enough since you’re almost laying down with him beside you.
His hand gently traces down your cheek and you giggle, finding it funny as he keeps glancing at Jungkook who shoves him back before he goes any further.
“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, somehow shifting even closer to you.
When you glance at him, you can’t help but giggle at his expression. He looks a little annoyed, and although you don’t think it, anyone else might think he’s crossed the fine line to jealous — Alias certainly does. 
“Alright, I know, hands off your girlfriend,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. 
Rolling his eyes, Jungkook mutters, “Yeah, whatever.”
Alias just chuckles, leaning back and resting his palm behind his head but unlucky for him, his moment of rest is short lived. 
“Oh for goodness sake Alias!” The hushed whisper of Mrs Cirillo has all of your heads turning. She appears out of nowhere beside the hammock, a look of shock and horror on her face. “Is there a reason you’re basking in the sunset with your trousers half undone?” 
“Actually,” Alias says unbothered, holding up a finger, “only the zipper is undone, so by the length of the trousers, mother, they’re nowhere near half undone.” 
Frustrated, she glances around. “People must be thinking all sorts.” She looks at Jungkook and you who smile awkwardly, sitting up straight as you hope not to get scolded. 
Mrs Cirillo is no stranger when it comes to teaching etiquette and given the many years of friendship between your families, she’s definitely not a stranger to teaching you a few things, and over the years, Jungkook too. 
She sighs when she looks at you. “Darling, you look beautiful. Jungkook, you too, please teach my son a thing or two.” She sighs again impatiently and Alias grumbles next to you as he does up his zipper. “Now, when you’ve made yourself decent, please come with me, your father wants you to meet someone,” she says, not waiting for a response.
Alias groans. “Who? I thought I had met them all.”
“Not this one,” Mrs Cirillo replies airily as she’s still walking away. “He’s just joined us tonight.”
Like the dutiful son he is, Alias gets up and follows his mother, though not without groaning about it some more.
Jungkook and you watch him go, but just like Alias, your moment of rest is short lived.
“Um, Y/N…” Jungkook’s voice sounds apprehensive and when you look at him, his expression seems the same. He’s stretching his neck and looking out towards the opposite direction of the balcony towards the main hall. “Is that… Valentina, with your parents?”
Standing up to get a better look, you realise that Jungkook is right. Valentina is mid-way greeting your parents, your mom leaning in to give her a hug. 
Looking down at Jungkook, you both realise at the same time – your parents don’t know about the two of you. 
Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say anything and instead – with zero regard for the high heels on your feet – he grabs your hand and rushes you towards them.
“Ow, wait, Jungkook, slow down!”
“Can’t,” he says, although you feel his pace slow down a little. “She’s gonna say something, of course she is.”
Jungkook isn’t wrong and the look on your parents face as you’re less than a few feet away from them tells you that Valentina has just said it. Your dad looks confused and your mom is frowning, her head tilting in the way it does when she’s not sure she believes something.
“Mom!” 
She turns her head to the sound of your voice, as does Valentina and your father.
“Dad,” you smile, catching your breath as Jungkook and you stop in front of them. 
Jungkook chuckles awkwardly next to you and you feel his hand go around your waist. “Sorry to, uh, interrupt…” he purposely avoids Valentina’s gaze. “We just, uh,” he glances at you, “we had a question.” 
“Well, so do we,” your dad starts, looking at you with the same confused expression. “What—”
“The dresses for the couple dance!” you blurt, knowing exactly what your father was about to ask. It would totally blow your cover if it seemed like your parents didn’t know about Jungkook so you need to come up with something fast. “We need to know the colours of the dresses for the couple’s dance, for the wedding.”
If your dad looked confused before, he looks almost dumbfounded now. “A couple’s dance?”
“Y/N, what couple dance?” your mom asks somewhat impatiently and you’re certain she wants to ask the same question your dad was about to, which is most likely about Jungkook and you.
“The one for the wedding,” Jungkook answers for you. “All the couples are doing a dance after Alex and Thalia, you know? At the wedding.” He squeezes your waist gently and you chuckle.
“Exactly,” you say, taking your mom's hand discreetly. “Since Jungkook and I are dancing together, well, he needs to know the colour of my dress and I’ve forgotten.” You say it with no hesitation but with the way you’re squeezing her hand repeatedly, your mom still seems confused.
She glances at Valentina who is now staring at Jungkook’s hand right around your waist, before glancing back at you. 
Taking advantage of Valentina’s momentary lapse in attention, you give her a subtle raise of your brow and hope that mother-daughter telepathy is a real thing. 
“A couple’s dance?” your father asks again. “Honey, I didn’t know about this,” he says to your mom. 
“Well, yes, I suppose I forgot to tell you,” she says, squeezing your hand back and you let out a grateful sigh of relief, as does Jungkook. 
“Y/N, your dress is periwinkle blue for the party,” she says to you before looking at Jungkook. You can see the apprehension in her expression though it’s only noticeable to you. “Jungkook, sweetheart, I’ll make sure your suit is matching with Y/N’s of course.”
“Thank you,” he nods, lips pursed. 
Together, you glance at Valentina who already seems bored. 
“Well, I’ll come find you later, Mrs L/N,” she says, already turning to step away. 
Your mom says a quick goodbye before Jungkook and you are left alone with her and your dad. 
“Is there a reason I didn’t know about this couple's dance?”
Letting out a small laugh, Jungkook pats your dad's shoulder. “Sorry, we made that up, there isn’t a couple’s dance.“
“There isn’t?”
“No, there isn’t,” your mom answers, her brow raises as she looks between Jungkook and you. “But what I would like to know is why we just had to lie and why on earth is Valentina congratulating your father and I about you two and your relationship?”
“It’s because of me,” Jungkook answers immediately which prompts a look of surprise from your parents. “I just wanted an easy way to keep away from Valentina and saying I’m with Y/N was the best way for me to do it.” He lowers his head looking a bit ashamed. 
“Well it was actually Alex who said it first,” you say, stepping forward. “He pretty much roped us into it with Valentina right there, we were clueless.” You take Jungkook’s arm and smile at your parents. “It’s just a little white lie and honestly as long as Jungkook and I are okay with it, then it’s harmless.”
“And you are okay with it?” your dad asks. 
“Sure.”
Your mother frowns, the apprehension still not having left her expression. “And Jungkook… you’re okay with it too?”
Jungkook nods. “Very okay with it.”
“Alright then, but just be wary.” Your mom glances between you both. She opens her mouth as if to say more but shakes her head instead. “Who else knows?”
“Alex, Thalia, Alias, and now you both.”
“Hm, if you want to keep it a secret then I would keep it to that. The more people who know the more likely it is to come out.”
“Yes, I agree,” your dad says, frowning as he thinks. “Although I do think it would make sense to tell Leon and Helena.”
Your mom agrees with him. “I suppose it does but it’s up to you both.”
“Are you sure?” you ask, brows raising. It’s not unusual for your parents to share something with the Cirillo’s, but when it’s something like this, a lie, you don’t imagine your parents telling them.
Jungkook shuffles awkwardly. “Uh, they’re coming over now.”
Your mom looks up, smiling as they come over. “Yes, Y/N, after all it’s not really such a big lie. Jungkook and you do everything together anyway, how much more different can this be?”
“Right,” you nod, confused by the sentiment those words make you feel — perhaps Alex isn’t so wrong, maybe you do do everything with Jungkook. It must be giving the wrong idea to people… 
Though that doesn’t matter now since you need to seem like you’re dating him. 
“Just who I was looking for,” Mrs Cirillo beams as she approaches, but instead of looking at your mom, she’s looking at you.
“Me?” you ask, surprised. 
“Yes.” She looks at Jungkook too. “And you.”
Jungkook shares the same expression as you. “Me?”
“Oh, yes, and don’t act so shy either of you.” Her smile seems rather cheeky, as does Mr Cirillo’s who stands beside her. “What’s this I hear about you two dating now, hm?”
“Oh.” Smiling hesitantly, you prepare yourself to tell them the truth as well. This feels a bit different though because you can see the excitement in Mrs Cirillo’s face, even in Mr Cirillo. 
“I mean it’s about time,” Mr Cirillo says with a deep chuckle, looking at your parents to agree. 
Jungkook looks rather pained as he looks between them both. “Who told you?”
“Alias, of course,” Mrs Cirillo says. “He said you’ve been keeping it a secret for some time though I don’t see why, this is wonderful news!” 
She waves her hand with the statement and with it, a part of you suddenly feels like you’re being let down by yourself. It’s odd to see them so happy for Jungkook and you, only for it not to be real. 
You don’t blame them though — you’ve only been pretending to date Jungkook for a day but you’re already starting to see Alex’s point a little bit more. Having Jungkook by your side just feels right. 
Come to think of it, if anyone else asked you to pretend to be their girlfriend for a few weeks, you’d definitely say no. It would be hard to act so close with someone not only emotionally but physically, whereas thinking of the way Jungkook was so close to your side just a little while ago on the hammock, fingers curled around yours, you feel yourself coil at even the thought of being with anyone else. 
That’s not unusual though, right? The only reason you can’t imagine it with anyone else is because Jungkook is your best friend. He’s the guy you’re most comfortable around and so you feel safe with him. Thoughts pausing, your gaze drifts to him as you briefly zone out from whatever joke Mrs Cirillo is making. 
Jungkook still looks on hesitantly and the way his bottom lip moves, you can tell he’s waiting to say something. As soon as he sees his chance and quickly gets a word in. “Oh, well, actually, Mrs Cirillo, it’s not really real.”
She looks towards him and frowns a little. “What do you mean?” There’s disappointment in her tone that you (for some unknown reason) can relate to.
“It’s more of a make believe relationship, if that’s one way to put it,” your dad answers albeit looking confused himself. 
Mr Cirillo appears to be on the same brainwave as your dad as he looks confused too. “That’s absurd. I believe it very much.”
“Yes, yes,” Mrs Cirillo says, nodding. “Who wouldn’t?”
Pushing aside your own confused feelings, you help clear up this mess. “What we’re trying to say is that it’s not a real relationship.” You glance at Jungkook who looks at you and nods. “We’re just pretending to date.”
“Oh.” Their expressions fall, small frowns replacing the excitement in their eyes. 
“Why would you do that?” Mr Cirillo asks. 
“My ex is on the cruise,” Jungkook answers. “You probably remember her, Valentina?” 
There’s a few seconds of quiet until Mr Cirillo finds the name familiar. “Ah, yes, tall girl, Forero if I’m not mistaken?”
Jungkook nods, lips pursed. 
“So she’s the reason you’re doing this?” Mrs Cirillo gestures between Jungkook and you. 
Jungkook nods again. 
She sighs quietly. “Honestly, it all seems a bit fuddy duddy, Valentina is harmless. There’s better ways to keep someone away, Jungkook, wouldn’t it be better to just ask her to stay away from you?”
“That might come across as more rude than this,” you say with a shrug. “Also, we ought to mention that this was all Alex’s idea.”
“Alex?!” Mrs Cirillo exclaims. “Did he even ask you first?”
“Nope,” you shake your head with a smile having absolutely no qualms throwing your best friend under the bus. 
“Oh, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Mrs Cirillo turns and reaches for her husband's hand. “Leon, I do believe that boy is getting almost as troublesome as his older brother.”
Mr Cirillo laughs. “Oh, it’s just a little fun, besides, having Jungkook and Y/N pretending to play house can’t be all that bad.” He turns to Jungkook and you and winks.
You return his cheek with a smile. “It’s actually easier than it looks.”
“I’m sure it is,” he quips with a quick raise of his brow. His smirk seems telling but you don’t think anything of it at the moment as you feel Jungkook’s hand on your arm.
“Just don’t tell anyone please,” he says, chuckling nervously.
“Of course not,” Mrs Cirillo says. “I think Alex may have been onto something anyway.” She glances towards your mom and they share a smile. “Let’s get something to drink, hm?”
Your mom laughs, taking her arm. “Yes, please, I need one.”
Together, they walk off and to you it looks like they’re high schoolers sharing secrets again — you’re sure they’re going to have lots to talk about again today. 
Mr Cirillo chuckles as they go off. “Three guesses what they’re talking about,” he says quietly to your dad who shares a smile with his friend before they both turn to Jungkook and you.
“Well, I think I’m going to go and look for more dessert,” you say, slowly taking a step back to excuse yourself and Jungkook. 
“Yeah, I’m gonna do that too,” Jungkook says, nodding his head at your dad and Mr Cirillo.
“Of course, I’ll see you later on,” your dad smiles. His eyes fall to where Jungkook’s hand is holding your arm and his smile grows just a little wider but before you can think anything of it, Mr Cirillo makes a comment.
“That’s a nice suit you’re wearing, Jungkook.” He nods, looking visibly impressed.
“Thanks.”
Mr Cirillo continues. “I remember when you would wear your suits from those high street stores with the cheap labels but look at you now, kid.”
Pausing in your slow retreat, you blink. You’ve known Mr Cirillo all your life so you know that the comment really holds no ill intent, and also bearing in mind the fact that you know just how much he has come to admire Jungkook and cares for him as much as he does for you, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for Mr Cirillo to make a comment like that.
Jungkook only smiles, though he doesn’t need to say anything for anyone to see that the backhanded compliment isn’t appreciated. He continues to step away but now you’re rooted firmly in the spot.
“Well with a personality like his and far more brains than most people combined, Jungkook has never needed material to make him look good, wouldn’t you agree, Mr Cirillo?” Your expression is friendly enough but your tone? Not so much.
He smiles awkwardly, immediately having understood his mistake. “Does that mean the opposite for myself?” he asks lightly.
“Oh, I’ve never thought so,” you say, smiling plastically. “Those words came from your own mouth.”
Mr Cirillo laughs. “You’re a sharp one, Y/N. That's why I like you a lot.”
“Likewise, Leon,” you wink, reaching for Jungkook’s arm. “Now we’ll be off.”
Mr Cirillo still chuckles and you catch your dad smiling at you as you walk away with Jungkook.
“Did you just call him ugly?” Jungkook asks with a small laugh once you're out of earshot. 
“I didn’t call him anything,” you shrug.
He laughs again, coming to a stop with you near the dessert table where you both browse the selection. “You know I could’ve answered myself though,” he says after a moment. 
Taking your pick, you turn to him with a small pout. It’s not the first time someone has made a comment about Jungkook that has annoyed you more than him, and you know that Jungkook prefers to pick and choose his battles wisely, unlike you always feeling as though you have to say something. 
“I know, sorry,” you wince a little. “Force of habit.”
“It’s okay,” he smiles, taking a bowl of Eton mess. 
Together, you start walking towards the same hammock you were previously sitting at.
“I actually think it’s kinda cute,” he adds.
Your brows raise inquisitively. “Having me as your knight in shining armour?”
He shrugs, taking a spoonful into his mouth as you both sit down. “More like my princess with her many privileges.” His lips curl into a smile as he says it.
Laughing, you lean back comfortably into the hammock. “Well, of course, Mr Cirillo wouldn’t dare say anything to me.”
“And no one else other than you would insult Mr Cirillo to his face.”
Holding up your fork, you laugh again. “I only implied, there’s a difference.”
Jungkook hums, leaning back next to you. He takes a big spoonful into his mouth, eating this slowly while you steal some of his. Swallowing, he sits up a little beside you. “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Looking up at him, you frown. “Do what?”
“Pretend to date me.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to?”
He shrugs. “If it makes you uncomfortable, or even if you just don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind,” you say, sitting up with him.
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, watching your expression for any signs of a lie. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” you repeat.
With those words, Jungkook seems to relax. “Okay.” Faint traces of a smile appear on his face as he leans back. 
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“The soap here smells amazing,” Thalia says, bringing her hands to her nose to sniff again a few times after drying them. 
Tossing your used hand towel in the hamper, you take a sniff too. “Mm, it does. I smell coconut.”
“And yuzu,” Thalia says, still inhaling the smell. 
Laughing, you pull her hands away from her nose as you walk out of the washroom together. 
The corridor is dimly lit as you walk back towards the restaurant but you’re very impressed by the interior, the burgundy and golden interior of this part of the venue complimenting each other well, especially with the many plants lining the corridors. 
“Where’s Alex?” you ask.
“Somewhere around here,” Thalia answers. “Honestly I lost him an hour ago after he went to check out the golf course here.”
“There’s a golf course here?” you ask, surprised. Though really you don’t know why you’re surprised, walking to the bathroom was a mission on its own, this place is huge. 
“Yeah they have everything, tennis courts, basketball, there’s even a riding school.”
At that, your ears perk up. “Are the horses available to hire?”
Thalia turns to you with a smile. “You wanna go for a canter?”
“Can we?” You ask, eyes lighting up too. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been riding.”
“We’ll have to ask but I’m sure my dad could sort something out for us. Although we have booked a resort for when we get to Barcelona and later on in Malta too. They’re renowned for their riding instructors.”
Laughing, you walk around the next corner together. “How have you booked resorts while we’re on a cruise? I bet Mrs Cirillo had something to do with it,” you add, knowing that she always has to have everything and the best of it for her kids.
Thalia nods with a smile. “My mom and yeah, Helena. They’ve been planning this for a year, of course there’s going to be something for everyone.” 
“Strippers?” you ask, brows raising.
“Except that.”
“Hm, fair,” you say, frowning as you walk around another corner. “Anyway, I don’t really care for the instructors but it’ll have to be Barcelona. I just wanna ride, it’s been so long since I last went.”
Thalia agrees. “Sure, I’ll ask my dad, I’m pretty sure he’s already friends with the owner of the one in Barcelona so it should be easy.”
“Great,” you smile, excited by the thought, though your smile turns into a frown as you realise you’re walking by the same door you just walked out of a little while ago. 
At the same time, Thalia slows down. “Are we lost?” she asks.
Looking up at the women’s washroom sign, your frown deepens. “Yeah, I think we’ve just gone in a circle.” You look up and down the corridor, taking a few steps in the opposite direction from which you just came to follow a different path. “Maybe we should try going left from here instead?”
“There really should be a clearer exit,” Thalia huffs. “My feet hurt.”
Laughing, you glance back at her. “I don’t think anyone was taking into account the fact that people might be walking in 6-inch heels down these corridors– oh.” Mid-sentence, you bump into someone as you’re walking around the next corner. “Sorry,” you say, looking up at the guy as you feel steady hands on your arms to stop you from stumbling. 
“I’m so sorry,” he says at the same time, looking down.
Oh. 
His brows knit together before a smile breaks out on his face. “Y/N?”
“Lawrence!” A smile appears on your face embarrassingly fast. “Hi!”
He chuckles softly, taking a step back and taking his hands with him. You don’t know whether to appreciate the sweetness or be sad they’re gone.
Lawrence Goldman is one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid eyes on with a personality to match, and he was your high school crush for years. He was everyone’s crush to be honest, but even in uni, you never were able to stop swooning over him, but that’s all it’s ever been, a crush. For some reason, you could never let yourself take it further despite him showing interest a few times. 
“It’s been so long, my gosh, how are you?” he asks, eyes skimming your figure. “You look absolutely amazing,” he adds without a second thought.
“Hey again,” Thalia says, appearing beside you.
Lawrence gives her a smile, his attention quickly returning to you.
“I’m great,” you beam, “how are you? I’m surprised to see you, I thought you were working in Singapore?”
“I am,” he nods before looking at Thalia. “Well I was, but there was no way I was gonna miss this one’s wedding.”
Thalia laughs, putting her arm around him briefly. “Love you for it, Goldie.”
Lawrence rolls his eyes at the nickname and you smile. Thalia and Lawrence attended the same prep school before reuniting in college, and it’s through Lawrence that Thalia was introduced to Alex and the rest of you — your world is apparently a very small world so Lawrence being here really shouldn’t be a surprise to you, but with everything else going on, you may have forgotten about Lawrence. 
“I’ve only just joined because I had a meeting I couldn’t miss yesterday,” he adds, eyes skimming down your figure once more while he thinks you’re still smiling at Thalia but you definitely don’t miss it. 
“Ah, I see.” You can’t help it when you mirror his actions, noting how the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving a peak of the chain he’s always worn since he Longbottom-ed — he clearly knows the effect it has. “So you’re joining us for the rest of the cruise?” When your eyes meet his again, his lips curl into a smirk. 
“Yes,” he nods. “I’ll be here.”
Noticing Thalia glancing between you both, you realise you ought to stop whatever weirdness is going on right now before she thinks there’s something between you, not that she won’t ask you herself anyway. 
“Well that’s great,” you smile, taking a step closer to Thalia’s side.
“Mhm, I’m looking forward to spending time with you,” he says.
Your response is on the top of your tongue — “so am I” — and you intend to say it with a flutter of your lashes, but before you can say anything, Thalia answers for you. 
“We all are,” she grins, hand winding around your waist where she squeezes with a light force when she says the next words. “Including Jungkook and Alex.”
For a second you’re confused but the mention of Jungkook sparks your memory and you remember everything that’s happened in the past few days.
Jungkook and you are dating — you realise now why Thalia interjected and she was right to do so, otherwise you might’ve made a silly mess by opening yourself up to flirting with Lawrence. 
“Oh, yes,” you answer, perking up. “Jungkook will definitely be happy to see you I’m sure, it’s been a while since we all met last.”
“Yeah?” Lawrence casually responds. 
“Of course,” Thalia says with a wiggle of her brows. “Y/N is his girlfriend, she would know of course.”
As you smile dutifully, you catch the confusion briefly show on Lawrence’s face before he quickly disguises it as surprise. “You and Jungkook?” he says, lips turning into a smile. It’s the kind of smile that could mean many things. 
“Yep,” you nod, lips pursed in a smile. 
Something resembling a sigh leaves him. “You guys will have to catch me up on that for sure,” he says.
“There’ll be lots to catch you up on,” Thalia grins, “but right now, can we figure out how to get out of here?”
Lawrence chuckles, stepping to the side. “Of course, I know the way.” He gestures towards the left, waiting for you and Thalia to pass. 
As you fall into stride with Thalia on one side and Lawrence on the other side, you can’t help but feel some kind of disappointment at Lawrence’s reaction, though what did you expect? 
Of course he’s not going to say or do anything differently, and as long as you’ve agreed to be Jungkook’s girlfriend, you shouldn’t want him to react any differently. You’re lucky Thalia stepped in when she did or you might’ve completely forgotten you’re supposed to be in a relationship with someone else and would’ve ended up blowing the story for Jungkook entirely. 
“Ah, here we are!” Thalia skips forward out into the late evening night.
The view on the balcony now is even more beautiful with fairy lights adorning the trees along its perimeter. Everyone you recognise seems to be congregating towards one area as it’s almost time to leave to board the cruise ship again. 
“Oh there you are.” Jungkook appears from the middle of the crowd, not seeming to have noticed Lawrence who’s more closely following Thalia. “We’re leaving soon, here.” He hands you your purse you left with him a while earlier. 
“Thanks,” you answer, taking it and checking you haven’t left anything else. “Sorry, we got a bit lost inside.”
“Mhm, that’s fine, I was just about to come look for you anyway,” Jungkook says, looking at Thalia and only then does he notice Lawrence. The lines expressing concern in his face deepen into confusion.
Seeing this change, Lawrence smiles. “Hey mate.”
In a split second Jungkook’s confused frown changes to a smile. “Lawrence!” Reaching forward, the two share a pleasant exchange. 
“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?”
“Not bad, yourself?”
Jungkook nods. “I’ve been alright.”
“Better than alright from what I hear,” Lawrence says, brow raising as he glances in your direction. 
Jungkook’s gaze follows and you smile with a little shrug, subtly nodding at Jungkook.
“Ah.” Jungkook chuckles, taking a step towards your side. “Well, yeah, better than alright,” he confirms with a very believable smile. 
Lawrence laughs, looking between you. From behind him, you catch Thalia standing beside Alex as they watch the interaction play out. 
“I think it’s amazing,” Lawrence says, patting Jungkook’s arm. “You two are great together.”
“You’ve only just seen us again,” you say with a smile. 
“Hm, I’ve seen it for years,” Lawrence replies with a nod of his head and a small sigh as he looks at you. He’s still smiling but when you look at him, the brightness in his eyes has faded. “Trust me,” he says quieter than before, “I was always watching.”
Pursing your lips, you smile but you still feel self conscious as his gaze on you doesn’t budge. “That sounds a little stalker-ish, Lawrence,” you chuckle. 
Laughing, he shrugs. “Might’ve been. I always was a bit of a recluse.”
“I wouldn’t say you were a recluse.”
He arches his brow, lips morphing into a cocky smile. “Then what would you say I was?”
Mirroring his expression, you scoff. “What d’you want me to say, huh? Tall, handsome and mysterious?”
“Took the words right from my mouth,” he says smugly. 
“Ha,” you laugh. Despite it being somewhat true, you respond to say otherwise. “You wish.”
Lawrence smiles. “Ah, I guess those words are reserved for this one, huh?” He nods towards Jungkook. 
“Hm…” you look towards Jungkook who smiles with his lips pursed. It’s not his usual full smile and behind it there seems to be a reservation that tells you he’s being more quiet than usual. Nudging him gently, you beam when he meets your eyes. “Nah, I’ve got better words for this one.”
He nods and chuckles quietly but only briefly. 
You wonder what’s caused the shift in his mood since he seemed so bright only a moment ago when greeting Lawrence. 
“Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it, I’m interested to hear how things happened between you,” Lawrence says.
Humming quietly, you nod as your attention remains on Jungkook. “Some other time, I think we need to get moving now,” you say, nodding towards the crowd of moving guests ahead of you. 
“Ah, yes,” he answers, turning to look behind him. “I’ll see you around though, yeah?” He places his hand on your arm. 
You don’t pay much attention to it but feel Jungkook pull on your hand gently. 
“Yeah man, we’ll see you around,” he says, reaching to pat Lawrence’s arm. 
Lawrence nods, throwing you a smile before he turns and joins the rest of your party. 
As he walks away, Jungkook turns to you. “Shall we go too?”
You nod, allowing him to lead the way, hand still in yours. There’s a hum of conversation around you as everyone makes their way back towards the cars to take you to the port, but you’re grateful no one interrupts the two of you as you walk alone, a little behind the rest. 
“You okay?” you ask after a quiet moment. 
Jungkook answers almost right away. “Yeah. You?”
“Mhm.” You watch him as he kicks some of the sand beneath his feet with every step. “You sure though?”
He turns to look at you, a smile on his lips though his brows furrow a little in the middle. “Yeah, why?”
“Just,” you shrug. “I thought you seemed a bit quiet back there with Lawrence.”
Jungkook turns away and shrugs. “I’m all good, no reason not to be.” 
It’s not exactly convincing to you, but you take his word for it. If it’s something he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you in his own time if he wants to. Or, it’s actually just nothing and you’re overthinking this for no reason. After all, there is no explanation that you can think of for Jungkook to be upset with Lawrence, especially when he was so happy to see him just now. Yes, you’re just overthinking it. 
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“Y/N, Jungkook, please be on time for breakfast tomorrow and not an hour late like last time,” your mother scolds airily as she waves her hand behind her. 
“Yes, mom,” you smile as she turns into her cabin. 
“Will do,” Jungkook nods, raising a hand to say good night to your parents. 
Once their door is closed, Jungkook continues to walk with you towards your cabin. 
“You better wake up earlier this time,” you yawn, pulling out your key card. 
Jungkook scoffs, coming to a stop next to your door. “Me?!” He rests his hand against the door frame, leaning closer. “You’re the one who was still sleeping when I came down.”
Smiling, you shake your head. “You have no proof.”
He matches your smile, cocking his head. “Alright, I’m recording you tomorrow morning, don’t get mad at me when I get your bed head and dried dribble face on camera.”
“Hey,” you pout, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t dribble.”
Jungkook shrugs, smiling. ”Tomorrow I’ll have proof.”
You narrow your eyes at him, internally vowing to wake up early so you can be ready before he comes to you. “There’s no—“
“Oh, Jungkook, Y/N!” 
The sickeningly sweet cotton candy voice has your smile faltering. Jungkook winces, his face hidden from Valentina as she approaches from behind you. 
Slowly, you turn around to face her.
“Well isn’t this just perfect,” she beams, coming to stop beside you both. “We’re neighbours here!” 
Chuckling, you nod your head. “That really is perfect.” 
Valentine smiles again, glancing between the two of you before shrugging. “Well,” she sighs, opening her purse to look for her key card. “Don’t mind me, I was just grabbing a few things. You two enjoy your night.” She waves airily but doesn’t move. 
“Mhm, you too,” you nod. 
As she pulls out her key card, she’s just about to walk away before she pauses to focus on Jungkook and a delicate frown appears on her face. 
Glancing at him, you’re not surprised to see she’s frowning. Jungkook hasn’t said a word and he looks rather pained right now.
“Jungkook, are you okay?” She tilts her head. “You look a little…” She steps closer, frown deepening as she moves until all of a sudden she stops. “Oh.” Her eyes widen, an apologetic pout appearing on her face. “I see, was I interrupting something?” She asks, pointing between you both. 
For a second you’re confused — yes, she interrupted your conversation with Jungkook and she knows that already — but then you remember that you’re supposed to be in a romantic relationship with Jungkook, and the expression on Valentina's face tells you she thinks she’s interrupted something else. 
Jungkook is obviously just as confused. “Huh?”
“You’re both going to bed now, are you not?”
He frowns. “Uh, yeah…”
“Yes, I thought so. Apologies then…” She glances down towards Jungkook’s crotch as the words that follow imply it — “oh, sorry, I must’ve put that fire out.”
A strangled noise escapes Jungkook’s throat and he looks relatively mortified. “What?— no!” He takes a step closer to your side while you somehow pull him closer to your side protectively in an attempt to hide him from her. 
Valentina doesn’t respond to the expressions on neither of your faces and only sighs disappointedly, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “I remember there was a time when I was the one to ignite the fire in your loins.”
The same strangled noise comes from Jungkook and you have to stop from bursting out into laughter. 
“Val,” Jungkook says, “were you not going somewhere?”
“Oh, yes.” She perks up, smiling brightly again. “Well you two lovebirds go ahead.” 
Just when you expect her to walk away, she doesn’t. In fact she stands there waiting for Jungkook and you to go into what she thinks is your shared cabin. 
“We will,” Jungkook says with the fakest smile you’ve seen on him.
Valentina only nods, still waiting.
Jungkook is about to say something again but you know there’s no point. Unlocking your door, you pull him into your room with you. “Bye, Val.”
“Good night,” you hear her respond as the door closes shut. 
Turning around to face Jungkook, you look at him with an expression crossed between shock and amusement. “Oh my God, how did you ever date her?!”
Jungkook groans, collapsing face down onto the end of your bed. “I swear she isn’t that bad, she’s doing it on purpose,” he says, muffled into the sheets.
Humming, you sit at the end of your bed beside him. “I guess so.” You lie down so you’re level with him.
Lying beside him, it’s quiet for a moment as you replay the exchange in your head. “So, she must’ve really been something if she was igniting the fire in your loins.” You can’t help but snort after saying it and Jungkook laughs beside you too, head still buried. 
Now that Valentina isn’t here, you allow yourself to laugh at it and you’re glad Jungkook does too. By the time you’re done laughing at it, you’re wiping away tears.
Lifting his head, he shakes his head. “This isn’t gonna be easy,” he says. 
“Yeah, she really doesn’t make it easy,” you respond quietly. 
Both of you fall silent for a moment again, listening carefully to see if you can hear her footsteps. 
“I can’t hear her anymore,” Jungkook says.
“Me neither.” You turn to look at him. 
He props himself up on his elbows. “So what now?”
“Well, we could wait till she goes away and then you sneak out,” you think aloud. “But how are we gonna do that every night?”
Jungkook nods, understanding. “So I should just stay?”
“I’m cool with it if you are,” you shrug.
For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, then he looks at you with a soft frown creasing his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“Totally sure,” you nod, rolling onto your side to lean on your elbow. “Besides, it’s not like we’ve made things easy for ourselves,” you add with a laugh. 
The lines seem to have disappeared from Jungkook’s face but when your eyes search for some kind of clue to his feelings, you find something you can’t decipher hiding behind the brown of his eyes. 
He smiles, releasing a soft breath as he does so, and only now do you realise how close your face is to his. 
“Promise me you’ll tell me if you feel uncomfortable?” he says. 
Nodding, you lift your pinky finger. 
He raises his own hand and closes his own pinky finger around yours. 
“I will,” you promise him.
His smile grows and oddly, you feel your heart do a little flutter in your chest as a warm feeling spreads through you. You’re suddenly reminded of how you felt earlier on in the evening as you lay on the balcony with Jungkook… has he always made you feel this way? Before you can let yourself think about it, Jungkook is leaping off the bed and with him, the feeling disappears. 
“So, I don’t plan on having your mum tell me off tomorrow morning so I’m going to sleep.” He turns to look at you, placing his hand on his hips.  “Slight problem though, my clothes are in my cabin.” 
“Then go get them, duh,” you answer.
“What if Valentina is still outside?” he says, pointing to the door. “It’s only been a few minutes, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s trying to eavesdrop on us right now.”
“Hmm…” you can’t deny he has a point. “Well I guess,” you say, dropping your voice to a whisper, “you won’t know until you try.”
“Alright,” Jungkook sighs, grabbing his phone from the bed. 
You follow him to the door and you’re actually almost surprised when he opens it to reveal no one is there. Jungkook turns to look at you sporting a similar expression on his face and shrugs before stepping out. 
“I guess that makes things easier for us—“
You’re interrupted mid-sentence as Jungkook immediately turns back into the room with a slightly panicked expression, barging into you. 
“Jungkook!” Losing your balance, you feel yourself falling backwards with Jungkook stumbling forward. Your ass hits the floor first and you just manage to bring your arms behind you in time but your head still hits the carpeted floor behind you, and Jungkook who seems to fall in slow motion with you, eventually lands on top of you. 
“Oh I’m sorry,” he mumbles, pushing himself up onto his forearms.
“That really hurt,” you groan, squirming on the floor. You’re grateful the floor is carpeted but both your head and ass still hurt. 
Jungkook looks down at you with concern replacing any previous features. “Where?” 
Rubbing the back of your head, you frown at him. “Everywhere. Why’d you turn back?”
“She’s right there!” Jungkook suddenly whispers instead. “She was practically having sex against the wall with some guy.”
Still recovering from your fall, you look at him confused. “What?”
Jungkook grimaces. “She was outside her room with some guy.”
“But we just saw her!” you respond in a hushed whisper. 
“I know! He must’ve been close by and they were making out like their lives depended on—” 
“Well, this is interesting.”
Rolling your eyes at the sound of her voice, you let your head drop back onto the floor while Jungkook scrambles to move off of you. Moving beside you, he reveals Valentina standing at the door, her lipstick smudged and her hair a bit messier than it was a little while earlier.
She narrows her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. “Foreplay on the floor is new to me, and leaving the door open…” She looks directly at Jungkook. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism.”
Jungkook visibly freaks out, getting up and pulling you with him. “No, gosh, it was an accident.”
Valentina frowns. “I don’t judge, Jungkook,” she says matter-of-factly.
“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies almost exasperatedly. “But this was just an accident, we fell over.”
“Hm, okay,” she says with a shrug as she glances at the bed. 
You know she doesn’t believe him but really there’s nothing else you can say to make her think otherwise. Besides, you don’t really care what she thinks while your head still hurts. 
“Well, anyway, I’ve got to go.” She looks back at you with a smirk. “How about we both do our best to keep it down tonight, hm?” she winks before turning and fluttering her fingers. “Ta-ta angels, see you in the morning!”
As soon as she’s disappeared from view, you go shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood. 
“Okay, she is so doing it on purpose.”
“I know,” Jungkook agrees almost immediately. “I don’t get why though.”
“I know why,” you say, raising your brows. “She probably still isn’t over you.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “If anything, she’s just not used to people moving on from her. Her exes were always all over her when we were together.”
“So she expects you to go crawling back to her?”
“Pretty much,” he shrugs. “She’s really not helping herself though. Maybe I should talk to her, tell her to just give me space…” He looks at you, raising his brow in question.
“You could, but I reckon she’ll just act innocent and pretend she has no clue what you’re talking about.”
“True,” Jungkook sighs.
“Look, it’s fine,” you say, walking over to the drawer. “It’s just Val, nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Throwing a set of satin pyjamas on the bed, you turn around to face him again. “Besides, I’m tired now, my head hurts and I’d like to sleep.”
The frown on Jungkook’s face doesn’t disappear. “It still hurts?” he asks, coming over to you. 
“Yeah, you knocked me over pretty hard, my ass hurts too,” you pout.
Jungkook chuckles, hands coming to rest on your shoulders and he squeezes gently. “Want me to massage it?” he jokes.
“Ooh, good idea. Let’s leave the door open too,” you laugh.
Jungkook smiles, still giving you a shoulder massage and you feel yourself letting go slowly. 
“Mm,” you hum softly, head relaxing. Jungkook steps closer and you let your forehead rest against his chest.
You don’t realise as Jungkook’s hands stop working and gently make their way around your waist, holding you up as you get lost in the warmth of his embrace.
“Should we go to bed before you fall asleep here?” Jungkook says after a moment. 
Pulling away from him, you smile with tired eyes. “Dibs on the bathroom first.”
Jungkook obliges and sits down on your bed while you go first. When it’s his turn, he goes quickly since he has the most minimal night time routine, one of which you’ve always been envious of. 
You’re just finishing brushing your hair when he’s coming out.
“What time is it?” he asks, stepping out as he dries his face. 
“Almost two,” you respond, getting up to walk over to your pyjamas on the bed. 
Jungkook turns around without being told, facing the opposite direction. “D’you think I could go get my clothes from upstairs now?”
You pull on your pyjama bottoms. “Probably not. I don’t think I have anything that would fit you either.”
“What do I do then?” Jungkook asks, his confused tone making you laugh.
“Don’t act like you don’t sleep naked half the time, Jeon.”
“Well when I’m alone, yeah. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” he says.
“I’m not, don’t worry.” You clamber into bed, pulling the sheets up to your shoulders as you get comfortable. “Just get into bed.”
Still facing away from you, Jungkook shrugs before pulling off his top. You don’t realise you’re staring at him strip until he starts pulling down his pants.
Abruptly, you pull the covers up even higher so you can’t see him. You hear him shuffling and then he stops but you can’t feel him getting into bed.
“Really?” he says. “My abs offend you that much?”
You can’t help but laugh, still keeping your eyes closed as you move the sheets down but place your hand in front of your eyes instead.  “Actually, they make for pretty good eye candy.”
Jungkook gasps scandalously, still shuffling about the room. “Have you been checking me out, Y/N?”
Cocking your head, you smile. “Now what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t appreciate you and your God given looks, hm?”
“A terrible one.”
“Exactly.”
“So why are you covering your eyes?” he asks, his voice growing louder as you feel the covers move beside you. 
“Because there’s another friend of yours that I don’t think I should be seeing as your best friend,” you say, ignoring the way you feel your cheeks go warm when you say it, and especially the way Jungkook’s deep chuckle sounds as you notice the bed dip beside you.
“He’s covered,” he says quietly.
“Not enough.”
Jungkook laughs again and this time you can feel his body beside yours. “That friend is hidden safe and sound, Y/N. You can look now.”
Peeking your eyes open slowly, you see Jungkook right beside you in bed. He’s sitting up, smiling down at you with his abs eye level to you. You’ve seen Jungkook topless before plenty of times, but being this close and being in bed with him is new to you. You’re sure it’s the reason you feel your heart rate rising. 
“Good,” you say, turning away. “Now hide the eye candy please. It’s bedtime, I’ve brushed my teeth and I’m not trying to get a cavity.”
Jungkook laughs, sliding down further into the bed to cover himself up to his shoulders. 
“They’re that sweet, huh?”
“I’d be disappointed if they weren’t, all that time in the gym would just be a waste.”
“Now that’s true,” Jungkook says with a smile, shifting in the bed so he’s more comfortable.
You hum quietly, staying still as Jungkook moves. Only once he’s found his comfortable position, then you do the same, turning onto your belly facing him. 
Jungkook happens to be facing you too and he smiles sleepily as his eyes close. “Good night, Y/N.”
Your eyes remain open for a few seconds as you look at him a little longer. “Mhm, night Koo,” you whisper, smiling even though he can’t see you. 
He looks pretty when he sleeps. You take in every one of his features, unaware that there is still a smile on your face as you do so.
Catching you unaware, Jungkook winks an eye open. “What’re you looking at, hm?” he asks softly with a teasing lilt to his voice. 
You feel flustered, eyes going wide. “There’s something on your face,” you say quickly, brushing nothing off of his face. “Eyelash or something,” you mutter, subconsciously shifting away from him a little since the close proximity definitely isn’t helping. 
“Uh-huh,” he nods, hiding a smile. 
You’re not sure what it is about his smile that makes your heart skip a beat and your senses go fuzzy like they’ve done so more than once now because of Jungkook. It’s odd, he’s not doing anything different, yet you feel different. Mentally, you officially dub this The Jungkook Effect. 
There’s not much you can say to defend yourself so you press your eyes shut and fight back a smile yourself. “Well, anyway, good night.”
“You sure you wanna sleep?” Jungkook teases. 
“Oh shut up,” you say with a laugh, you pull one of the pillows out from behind your head and place it in the small space between your torsos. 
Jungkook lifts his own head off his pillow and looks down at it with an amused smile. “Is this really necessary?”
Lifting your own head and resting on your palm, you arch your brow at him. “I’ve read enough books to know what happens when two people who aren’t dating share a bed.”
Jungkook mirrors your expression and dares to move an inch closer. “And what’s that?”
Smiling like the little know it all you are, you answer, “They wake up in the morning with someone’s cute ass, which would be mine in this case, conveniently pushed up against someone’s dick.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue and the smirk on his lips is clear as day. “Ah, which would be mine,” he says, briefly looking down. His lips look wet when he says it and for some reason you find yourself wanting this conversation to continue on the same wavelength it is right now… but it’s also at this moment you realise you’re lying in bed and practically flirting with your best friend.
“Exactly,” you say, letting out a small breath as you fall back into your pillow, looking up to the ceiling.
Pursing his lips, Jungkook hides a smile. “Well I guess we definitely don’t want that to happen.”
You stifle a laugh as you lightly whack him with the pillow between you before putting it back in its place. “Shut it, Jeon.” 
He chuckles, falling back into his pillow. “Just kidding,” he murmurs, sliding further beneath the covers and getting comfortable. “Good night, Y/N.”
With a tired smile, you hum. “Good night, Koo.”
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The stops at St Tropez and Nice both pass as quickly as the first few cities in Spain and before you know it, you’ve visited all the cities scheduled for France too. The stop in Barcelona has been your favourite so far though — the resort the Diamindis’ booked for the families on the cruise most definitely did not disappoint and the riding you got to do was just a big bonus, especially watching Alias struggling with his mare. 
The whole Jungkook situation has been pretty easy to navigate too. Now that the important people in your life know it’s not real, it makes it easier and Jungkook and you only need to behave as you normally do so you’re both happy. On top of that, you’ve noted that you haven’t had any more experiences with the Jungkook effect, though you’re not sure you can say that pleases you. 
It’s also been a while since you’ve hung out with Lawrence. He seemed to stay close in the first few days but you figured it must be his parents encouraging him to socialise with some of the other families since he’s not at home much. This became true enough when you saw him stuck at a table in some fancy restaurant in Nice with the Maddison’s. 
Although you did hope to get to spend some more time with Lawrence, at least for old times sake, you can’t say you care much, especially since Sophia has finally joined you. 
“Why don’t we go to the pool?” you say, raising your brows at Sophia. It’s almost midnight but you’re still lounging on a quieter deck with Jungkook and Alias. Since it’s a sea day tomorrow, you don’t need to be up early and it seems like it’ll be more fun than the last time now that Sophia is here too.
She perks up at that, turning towards you. “It’s closed right?”
“Yep, but that just makes it better,” you smile, ignoring Jungkook and Alias scoffing at your change in opinion — last time you were adamant that you should be following the rules. 
“Okay, let’s do it.” She looks at Jungkook and Alias. “You guys joining us?”
“Sure,” Alias hops up. “It’ll be fun to see Y/N break the rules,” he grins at you.
Sassing him, you get up too. “This time I’m pushing you in.”
“I’d like to see you try.” Alias tenses, flexing his biceps. “I’m 73 kilos of this,” he nods.
It’s no secret that Alias has an impressive figure, but unwilling to cave, you just roll your eyes and playfully swat his arm. “Whatever.”
“Alright, let’s meet at the top deck pool in ten minutes?” Jungkook says hopping up from the lounge. 
“Make that fifteen,” Sophia says. “I don’t know where I put all my swimsuits.”
Agreeing, you all head towards the upper decks, only splitting up to go towards your respective corridors to your cabins. Sophia and Alias go right towards the corridor where their family cabins are situated, while Jungkook and you still need to walk a little further to get back to your shared cabin.
Surprisingly, it’s been easy to share a cabin with Jungkook. Most days you come back from whatever activity you had that day and knock out easily since you’re so tired. On top of that, your pillow idea seems to be working perfectly and you haven’t experienced any awkward or uncomfortable moments. There have, however, been a few times you’ve mistaken the pillow for Jungkook and in the split second it takes you to realise it’s only the pillow, you can swear your heart skips a beat and your pulse races. The disappointment that follows is something you can’t seem to explain to yourself. 
“So Sophia comes and all of a sudden you’re Little Miss Daredevil, huh?” Jungkook says, as you walk together. 
You glance at him and note how handsome he looks today. After spending some time in the sea while in Nice, his dark locks are curled and framing his face perfectly. He walks with his hands in his short pockets and the linen material of his shirt blows in the evening air giving the occasional glimpse of his lean figure. It occurs to you that this is going to be coming off in a short while when you go to the pool—
Oop. You pause your thoughts, realising that the little flutter you just felt down south was definitely due to picturing your best friend topless. A part of you feels guilty wondering if Jungkook would be embarrassed, but you also know that Jungkook knows what you think of his physique. You pretty much said it all the other night and he’s caught you looking plenty of times before that, even making jokes about it when you did.
“She brings out that side of me,” you sigh, smiling as you descend the steps that lead towards your corridor.
“Alias and I aren’t good enough for you, huh?”
“Don’t take it personally,” you joke, and Jungkook just laughs quietly so he doesn’t wake up anyone as you walk past some cabins. 
Once back at your own, you quickly change into a bathing suit and throw on a hoodie and shorts so in case any staff see you, they don’t suspect you’re planning on going to the pool.
Alias is already waiting at the top deck and you can also see he’s brought some drinks along with him. He’s chosen not to cover up and is revealing his washboard abs for the whole world to see, and let’s not forget those killer thighs of his. 
“Beat you here,” he says without even thinking.
“Who was counting?” Jungkook says, bumping shoulders with him on purpose. 
“I was,” Alias responds, and quickly the two resort to their childish antics as Jungkook pulls him into a headlock. You choose to sit and watch, dipping your toes in the pool as you throw your hoodie to the side. 
“Guys, shut up, we can hear you from a mile away,” you hear Sophia’s voice from behind you as she climbs the steps to your deck. 
Jungkook and Alias stop mid-wrestle and you get up to pull your shorts off. 
“Huh?” Alias frowns, pulling himself free from Jungkook. “We?”
Once Sophia is standing on the deck, you see someone else coming up behind her. 
Lawrence. 
Sophia steps to the side as he steps up. “Yeah, we,” she repeats. 
“Hey guys,” Lawrence says with a harmless smile, glancing across at you all.
“Hey,” you smile back.
“Oh, hey man,” Alias waves. 
Jungkook smiles too with a nod of his head. 
“I saw Lawrence on the way so I thought I’d ask him to join us,” Sophia explains as she too pulls off an oversized hoodie. 
“I hope that’s alright,” Lawrence chuckles awkwardly.
“The more the merrier,” Alias says with a shrug. “So,” he looks at you, “who are we pushing in first?”
“You,” you smile. 
Alias spreads his arms, inviting you. “I’d love to see you try, babe.”
Glancing to his right, you subtly raise your brow at Jungkook who smiles back at you. In a split second, Alias is being lifted from the ground and tossed into the pool. 
Sophia and you jump into the pool right after, surfacing close to Alias.
“I thought we were friends,” he laughs at Jungkook splashing water towards him. “Gosh, I forgot how whipped you are.” 
Jungkook just laughs and shrugs. “Sorry, man,” is all he says.
“You getting in?” Sophia asks Lawrence as she joins you next to the pool, dipping your toes first. 
He nods. “I guess.” He glances around looking at the empty surroundings. This top deck is pretty big considering it’s wholly private.
“What?” Alias holds out his arms. “We’re not good enough for you?” he jokes. 
“Of course you are,” Lawrence says before he shrugs, lips curving into a smile. “I just think with all this space, we could do something more.”
“Oh.” Sophia raises her brows, intrigued. “Like what?”
She speaks for all of you as you all look at him.
“I risk sounding like a five year old,” he says with a small laugh, “but how about hide and seek.” He looks around again. “We’re on a ship, we’ve got plenty of hiding spaces.”
The rest of you glance at each other and it’s clear that you’re all in agreement.
Alias jumps out of the pool. “Alright, but it’s hide and seek chase.” He grabs a towel and dries himself off. “I’m it first,” he adds with a devilish smile.
“Even better,” Lawrence says, pleased that everyone is on board. “Are we splitting up or staying together?”
“I’ll go with Y/N,” Jungkook says, approaching your side as you get up from the side of the pool. The air is chilly to your wet skin but you quickly warm up as Jungkook helps you pat dry.
“I’ll stay with Lawrence,” Sophia says, walking over to his side.
“Alright let’s stick to the top two decks when hiding, but if I’m chasing you, we can go anywhere,” Alias says, pulling on a linen tee.
“Where’s the base?” you ask, covering yourself up too. 
“Here?” Sophia proposes.
“Or only inside the pool,” Jungkook adds to the suggestion with a shrug.
Lawrence nods in agreement, as do the rest of you.
“Alright,” Alias smirks. “Ready?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before starting to count down, “one hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight…”
The rest of you bolt immediately knowing that 100 seconds with Alias will only be 50, if that.
Sophia doesn’t even wait for Lawrence’s confirmation before running in the direction she came from but he follows her anyway.
With a tight hold on your hand, Jungkook pulls you in the opposite direction, already running faster than you can keep up with. 
“Slow down,” you laugh, squeezing his hand.
“C’mon,” he says without turning back and without slowing down. “We gotta get away first, he’s only gonna count to ten.”
Just as you suspected, even with the distance that’s been put between you already, you can hear Alias yell out for you all to hear.
“Ready or not, here I come.”
You’re just grateful there’s no cabins near here. 
It feels like you’re running for a mile, starting outside before Jungkook takes you through a door and down multiple corridors and even two smaller staircases you had no idea existed. He’s slower now which comes and a relief to you, but you’re still panting from all the sprinting.
“Koo, where the hell are we going?” you ask, tugging on his hand to make him stop.minutes, you find yourself on a part of the ship you’ve never been to before.
“You’re lost, aren’t you?” you say, not really caring about being lost because you’re just glad Jungkook stopped running.
“No, I’ve been here before.” Judging by the way he’s walking, it does seem like he knows where he’s going. “We’re near our cabin.” 
“Really?” You look around, frowning at your surroundings. “I don’t recognise it.”
“Yep,” Jungkook takes your hand as he taps his pass on a door to go down a corridor which you still don’t recognise but from the smell, seems to be near the kitchen. 
“Wait, Jungkook…” you pause, looking back at a small sign above where Jungkook tapped his card. Staff only. “How?” you ask in bewilderment.
Jungkook just pulls you forward with a smug look on his face “Alias gave it to me. He got one for himself and Alex too.”
Of course he did. “He’s trying to get us kicked off, I swear.”
“It’s just for a little fun,” Jungkook grins. “Besides, this way, we can win the game.”
“Yeah, except Alias can get in here too then.”
Coming to a split in the corridor, Jungkook stops. “Oh yeah,” he mumbles. “Well, 
“Hey!”
Jungkook and you both turn on the spot to the sound of a voice from ahead of you. It’s a member of staff, the same one from the night Alias and Jungkook jumped in the pool. He seemed pretty mad at the time and seeing his expression now as he starts walking towards you, he seems the same. You don’t blame him, he was chasing you guys for the better part of ten minutes.
“Run?” Jungkook whispers, his fingers clasping yours tightly.
“Run,” you nod.
Before you know it, your legs are moving as Jungkook leads you down the closest corridor.
“Hey! Stop!” 
You almost feel bad about running away, but at the same time, you know that the guy is only trying to stop you to feed whatever power trip he’s on, so you keep running as fast as you can to try to keep up with Jungkook.
“Do you know where you’re going?” you huff, looking over your shoulder.
The guy is right behind you. 
“No,” Jungkook laughs, slowing down as he sees a corridor to his right. 
“Keep going,” you laugh too, pulling him down the corridor before the guy can catch up. 
“Oi, I said stop!” he yells.
“What d’you think, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, though he shows no sign of stopping. “Should we listen to him?”
“Never,” you respond, glancing back again. He seems to be slowing down but you don’t stop yet. This time, you take the lead and go down a smaller corridor which you realise leads to a staircase.
“Up,” Jungkook ushers you, letting you go first. Luckily it;s a short one and Jungkook comes up close behind you.
“Left or right?” you ask, glancing down the corridor. The left leads to a door which heads outside, the right leads to a door which seems to hide a dimly lit corridor.
Jungkook takes your hand again, going left. As he pushes the door open, you hear the guy is still coming close behind you. “Stop,” he yells.
You’re honestly surprised he’s still chasing you but you’re also tired now and really just want to stop. “Koo, I think I have asthma,” you breathe out, feeling your steps slow down.
Jungkoook chuckles, looking back at you. “Y/N, we’ve been through this before, you don’t have asthma.”
You would pout because you know he’s righ and you still want to stop but you also don’t want that guy to catch up to you. 
Still, Jungkook glances around while jogging as though he’s looking for something. “Ah, there!”
You’re too tired to ask what, only letting Jungkook lead you across the deck to a door which takes you back inside. As you enter, you see the staff still coming behind you. Gosh, he’s bothered. After only a few yards, Jungkook uses the staff pass to open a door on your right. Inside is a small room with a few shelves lining the walls and one big one in the middle; it’s full of rescue equipment.
“What the hell, Koo?” you laugh, letting him take you inside as he closes the door quickly. 
He takes you to hide behind the biggest shelf in the middle of the room. With your back pressed against it, he stands close in front of you so he can still see the door.
When you look up at him, you see a massive grin on his face and that mischievous gleam in his eyes that you love.
“You’re crazy,” you murmur, restraining a laugh.
“Shh,” he whispers, placing his hand beside your head as he takes the smallest step closer, one that’s enough for you to feel the warmth of his breathing as his chest rises and falls so close to you. 
The sensation makes you fall quiet anyway and you’re sure that even if you did speak, no one from outside would be able to hear you, but you’re rather enjoying the feeling of having him this close to you. The smell of his perfume – your favourite – fills you with every heavy inhale as you catch your breath too, and suddenly, you find this feeling familiar.
That damned Jungkook effect. 
Since you’re stuck here hiding for a few moments, you can do nothing but just embrace it as it comes. Apparently you’re embracing it a little too much as you don’t realise your eyes close and your head slowly moves closer to his chest. It just feels so good being this close to him – feeling his warmth, smelling him… his body is so close to yours, you wonder what would happen if you just took another step forward and–
“You okay there?” Jungkook’s voice comes out low with a humorous lilt.
‘“Hm?” Your eyes go wide as you realise your head was resting on his chest. “Sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling your cheeks go warm. “I’m tired, it’s late.”
“Mhm, that’s okay.”
Looking up, you see the mischievous gleam in his eyes has changed to something playful. 
“You can use me as a pillow anytime,” he adds with a wink.
Scoffing, you poke him in the chest. “Well I gotta put these pecs to use somehow.”
He laughs quietly before poking his head out to the side. “Come on, I think he’s gone and we’ve got a game to get back to.”
You follow him to the door and find the corridor empty, thankfully. “Alias has probably already found the other guys.”
“That would make us the winners.”
“Mm, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to get back to base first.”
“Oh, yeah.” Jungkook pauses, looking around. “Where is the base from here?”
“Um…” Stopping beside him, you look around too. It’s hard to tell when it’s dark but there’s some parts of the deck which look familiar to you. “I think we keep going forward.”
“Actually, I think we’ve passed the way up.”
“What?” you frown, looking up confused. 
“Well the pool was at one of the top decks and there’s one way up which we missed, no?”
“I don’t think so.”
Jungkook looks down at you, his brows raised. “Really?”
“Really,” you say, taking his hand to tug him along, except he doesn’t move. When you look back at him, you see he’s got his brows raised with a smile, one that only spells a challenge. 
“Oh, c’mon, Koo,” you sigh. 
He shrugs before swinging your hand. “Let’s see who gets there first then,” he says in a sing-songy voice.
“Fine,” you shrug, already turning away from him. “Just be careful Alias doesn’t get you on your way.”
“I’ll be fine, just look out for yourself,” he responds as he already starts skipping back the other way. 
Shaking your head, you turn back to look at your surroundings. You’re sure there’s a small staircase somewhere near here that you’re supposed to go up which should be close to the pool. It’s when you’re glancing around now that you realise it’s actually quite scary being alone on an empty deck late at night with no company but the sea.
Taking a few steps back, you look down the way you came to see if Jungkook might still be there but of course he’s not – he’s probably running to make sure he gets back before you.
Sighing, you continue down the path that seems familiar to you, only to hear a small bang from somewhere in front of you. Immediately, you’re relieved to see Lawrence coming around the corner ahead of you.
He smiles when he sees you. “Hey,” he says, voice hushed. 
“Hey,” you answer, looking behind him. “Was that bang you?”
He looks back, confused for a split second before he nods. “Oh, yeah, I just jumped down the last few steps when I was coming down.”
“Right. Where’s Alias and Sophia?”
“Well Alias tried to get me just a little while ago but I lost him,” he says, looking proud of himself before he frowns. “Where’s Jungkook?”
“We split up,” you answer with a smug smile. “He thinks the base is back this way.” You point in the direction that he went in. “But I know it’s this way.” You point in the opposite direction.
Lawrence chuckles, looking at you somewhat endearingly though it goes unnoticed by you. “Uh, Y/N, it’s the other way.”
“Huh?” you frown, looking back. “Really?” 
“Yep,” he nods, hiding an amused smile. “I can show you the way if you like?”
Sighing in defeat, you agree to go with him. “It’s not like I have any chances of beating him now.”
“Ah,” Lawrence sighs as he falls into stride beside you. “Still got the competitive streak I see?”
“Me?” you laugh quietly, glancing at him.
“Mhm, you,” he says matter-of-factly, still sporting a smile.
Looking at him now, you note how relaxed and care-free he seems. You’re not sure whether it’s because his usually swept back hair is now falling freely, or if it’s because of the glow on his face from the light sheen of sweat from the humidity of the evening air. It’s nice to see him like this, even the smile is a difference – growing up he always seemed so mysterious and quiet which no doubt had to do with the pressure he faced as an only child and a big family name to live up to. 
“Well, it’s good you remember. I won’t be losing today either,” you say with a playful nudge.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he laughs. “If we bump into Alias, I’m ditching you fast.”
“I hope so, you’re dead weight to me.”
“Hey!” He nudges you back as he still laughs, loosely running his hand through his hair.
“Mm, remember when we were kids?” you say, suddenly reminiscing. “We used to do this stuff all the time.”
Lawrence nods. “I do,” he says with a smile. “There was one Christmas, we all went up to that chalet in… oh, where was it?” he frowns, looking at you. “Courchevel?”
“Hm…” You shake your head as it rings a bell. “I don’t think so, there was only one year we celebrated Christmas abroad all together and it wasn’t in France.”
“Switzerland?”
“Yes!” You say, pointing your finger at him as you suddenly remember the finer details of the trip.  “At St Moritz, we had that massive suite at Kempinski.”
“That's the one,” Lawrence says with a smile matching yours. “D’you remember those nights we would always want to go out but our parents never let us? So we used to run around hiding from them.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “I remember Leon and Helena would get so mad, even I was scared of them but their own kids never even cared.”
“My parents got mad too but we still did it every night,” Lawrence laughs, his walk slowing down as the two of you approach the bow. “I wonder how he were so brave,” he continues, “I bet it was Alias’s idea, all the fun stuff was always his idea.”
“Mm, actually, I think it was yours,” you say, tilting your head towards him. 
“Really?” Lawrence questions, brow raised as he walks closer to the ledge overlooking the tranquil evening sea though you can’t actually see much besides a distant glittering coastline. 
“Mhm, really,” you nod, coming to stand beside him.
Lawrence turns so he’s facing you, a thoughtful expression on his face but his lips are still curved in a smile as they have been this whole time. “I’m surprised you remember.”
You shrug. “I remember a lot of things.”
Lawrence opens his mouth as though to say something before closing it. 
“What?” you ask, turning to face him too. 
He shakes his head. “I was about to ask something but it’s probably gonna sound stupid.”
“Stupid questions are my favourite to answer,” you say with a smile. 
He arches a brow, his smile changing to something more timid. “D’you remember a lot about me or just everything in general?”
You laugh, not having expected that. Lawrence isn’t really the conceited type so you don’t think it’s coming from a place of vanity, and the shy hesitancy he says it with almost makes him seem cute — like he wants you to say him.
“Both I guess,” you answer honestly. 
He laughs too, one that reminds you of the days you spent daydreaming about him. It feels almost nostalgic, certainly not the same. If this was a few years ago you might’ve gotten butterflies from just hearing that laugh but now you only feel happy to see him letting his guard down and smiling which is a rare occurrence with him.
“Are you surprised?” you ask.
“Well, yeah,” he says, still with a shyness. “I thought I just went unnoticed in school.”
“Unnoticed? You were without a doubt one of the most popular guys in school.”
He shrugs. “Never felt like it.”
You scoff in amusement. “Yeah, because imagine being the one to receive almost 100 cards on Valentine’s Day every year, not to mention the endless notes in your lockers.”
“Ah,” Lawrence laughs softly. “Okay I see your point.” He glances towards you. “Never got one from you though.”
“I was too shy,” you say, trying to hide the truth a little with a tone of sarcasm. 
“Probably would’ve said yes if it was from you,” he says with a playful smirk.
“Thanks for telling me this late,“ you laugh. “But wait…” You look at him in amusement, having just processed some of what he’s said. “So you’re telling me you had no idea that I had a crush on you in school?!”
Confusion is the first and only emotion you manage to catch on Lawrence’s face, the rest passing in a second. “I had no idea!” he says, half laughing while still in what can only be surprise. “You liked me?” He looks at you and you notice a tinge of pink colouring his cheeks.
“For a long time,” you laugh. “Though I don’t know why, you never paid me much attention until college.”
Lawrence doesn’t skip a beat when answering. “I had to! I’m two years older than you, any attention I wanted to give you throughout school might’ve just caused problems and I didn’t want that for you.”
“Well, how thoughtful of you to not want me to be the subject of stupid rumours, meanwhile I was left to pine over you,” you say somewhat sarcastically but still humourful. “If only I knew that you were being so considerate…” only now do you realise exactly what it is that Lawrence has just said… “Hang on.” You pause, brows creasing as you turn to look at him. “You what?”
Lawrence suddenly hesitates, timidly. “I had a thing for you,” he mumbles after a few seconds.
“You did?”
“Mhm, for a while. It’s always been there… still is.”
Your head is reeling… you could’ve had Lawrence. You still could have Lawrence – he’s telling you as much – but…
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask softly, still dumbfounded.
“I wanted to,” he admits with a small smile, just about managing to look at you now. “Your first year of college, but you seemed so carefree and I didn’t wanna be the older guy tying you down. Even though it’s just one year, everyone has fun in first year so I wanted you to have that too.” He purses his lips before releasing a small breath as he looks away. 
“I wouldn’t have cared about that,” you say quietly with a laugh. 
To your relief, Lawrence laughs too, albeit awkwardly. “Really?”
“Yeah,” you shrug.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I tried again in my last year, your third.” He glances at you before shrugging. “I don’t think you cared for it though.”
It’s easy to remember what he’s talking about now — there’s no way you wouldn’t remember all the times Lawrence tried to shoot his shot with you, especially because you could never figure out why you denied it to him and yourself.
Lawrence continues in your moment of silence. “I always thought it was because of Jungkook.”
All the thoughts come to a standstill in your mind… 
“Now I know I was right,” Lawrence says with a wistful smile. 
Is this your answer? The reason you never wanted to pursue Lawrence even after having a crush on him for so long — because of Jungkook? 
It’s even crazier to you that right now, it doesn’t seem so bizarre. 
Jungkook has always felt right. Maybe you do care about him in more ways than you realised, maybe everything Lawrence is saying is true, and maybe everything Alex has been saying for months now is true. There’s obviously a reason you’ve started to feel differently around him, not to mention you’re always finding any and every excuse to be with him.
Lawrence continues, unaware of the thoughts unravelling in your head. “I just wish I’d had the courage to say something sooner, but it’s my fault.” He takes a step closer and the feeling of his hand brushing yours draws you back into this moment. 
Looking up, you meet his gaze to see soft eyes and furrowed brows. 
“Now it’s all out there though,” he says in a voice quiet enough to be a whisper, “I have to know…” 
His eyes search yours and he hesitates for a brief moment before you feel his fingers lace between yours. “It is too late, right?”
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note. please interact with all parts and share your thoughts with me! <3 part 2 here
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ruleofheart · 4 months ago
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desperately needing best friend! ellie who is just so much better at handling horror than you are.
it starts with ellie slyly handing you a ticket to an upcoming horror fest; fright frenzy. you’re not one for actual horror attractions– it almost takes too much to get you to sit through an entire movie. so, as you the eye the ticket with worry, ellie interjects.
“we’re going,” she declares, leaving no room for argument. “dina and jesse, too. next friday.”
“next friday?! it’s only september!”
it’s how you end up in line for a haunted house, your eyes lost in a daze as you try to put on a calm front.
see, ellie is someone who can appreciate a good scare. she’s grown to think that most jumpscares are pretty cheap, save for the creative ones that actually get her to say, “that was sick.”
she’s someone who doesn’t even flinch at elaborate costumes, usually complimenting the actors and asking for a selfie with the zombie with amazing sfx makeup.
she’s someone, and probably the only one, who sees through your little front. with dina and jesse too caught up in their own conversation (behaving like those abysmal couples in line), she nudges your shoulder, pulling you out of your internal hype session.
“hey. you can hold my hand, if you want.” it’s soft, but with a hint of a knowing smile.
and once you get inside; oh, you take her offer and run with it. you end up pressed into her side, her arm wrapped around you. your eyes tucked away in the crevice of her shoulder as she dips down to talk you through it (sheesh!). her voice is low, and it would probably drive you crazy if it weren’t for the guttural screams and sound effects erupting at every corner.
since ellie is handling herself just fine, she whispers to you as she sees the jumpscares ahead of time.
“clown coming up. god, he looks so corny.”
“hey, hey; you’re doing so good, it’s almost over.”
and when the lights flash a little too much, her hands come up to cover your eyes, her sweet words filtering into your ear. ugh, you could almost die.
and it’s the way that she bites back a smile when she drives you home. the way you try to subtly tell her, i don’t wanna sleep alone tonight. the way she nonchalantly offers for you to stay over at hers, promising to keep a comedy movie on until you fall asleep.
you end up sleeping in ellie’s bed, your whole body trying to wrap around and snuggle into her arm as she looks down at you, her heart skipping curiously.
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