#go read up about it or find a video that explains it

[caeliuluru]

vulnerability

Summary: After work, you ask Xavier if you should quit being a Hunter. You don't get a straight answer, but you learn a little bit more about yourself and what you would do for your partner.

Tags: Xavier/MC, Xavier/Reader, Fluff (as usual), Hurt/Comfort, LOTS OF XAVMC JUST TALKING, Established Relationship Xavier/MC, Post-Voyage of the Outcast (not necessarily immediately after, can be up to your interpretation)

A/N: it's my first fic in a while, so i'd like to see how i can improve my writing! if you want to pls let me know what you liked/disliked about the fic (please be nice). i hope that this is enjoyable, and for those who are going through Struggles similar to MC's, i hope this resonates with you. Xavier is cheering you on :]]

“Xavier?”

The couple watches their shadows rise and fall with each step as they walk home. You and Xavier are taking the long way home, because according to you, the sky is “too pretty,” clouds surrounded by purple and pink hues, the sun about to make room for the moon and stars.

He can appreciate the sentiment— but finds himself noticing more of you, looking starry-eyed and light for the first time in a while.

Recently, it’s not often that you both have the time to just relax after work — there were more Wanderers than usual, and especially after your mission at Prestara University, you’re more on edge, looking out for any clues and leads on EVER. Xavier is more than mindful in reminding you to take a break — good leads don’t always come out of nowhere, and even his searches have come up short. In this case, it’s better to take time for yourself if you can. You talk about random things, like the upcoming public Wanderer lecture you’ll be speaking at, the cafeteria choco pie, whether both of you should get a new plant for their now-shared garden at home. Gradually, you and your partner fall into a comfortable silence once you’re near the park, and you stop, looking at the setting sun.

“What is it, my star?”

Your gaze finds the sidewalk, right next to the park grass, the carefree expression and small smile possibly indicating one of your random questions again, probably from those viral videos on Moments, things like “would you still love me if I was a worm?” or some couple’s prank. Or maybe you’d say something really sweet, because the sunset does look lovely right now and maybe you feel a bit sentimental. The unpredictability of you— like a small kitten he’d cradle next to his heart. And despite your tendencies, he still treasures every word from your lips.

“What if I decided to quit?”

“Huh?” His eyes widen slightly, expression equal parts concerned and confused.

Your lips curve into a small, resigned smile.

“I’m just asking….”

You play with your hands, looking back at the sunset again. In your 5 seconds of silence, he waits for you to explain.

Xavier’s mind zips through every possible (well, bad) scenario he could think of. Are you tired? Did some person approach you? Or what if it was someone at the Hunters’ Association? Did Jenna bring you bad news, he’d have to talk to her later, did you have an injury he didn’t notice (and then he’d know what it feels like for you to see him come home, weary and hurt)…

His thoughts are translated into him turning into you, and gently pulling your hands away from yourself and to him, thumb running circles over the base of your dominant hand. In his gentle voice, worry tight around the edges, he asks, “Did something happen? I know that we were assigned to different missions this time, did you need help, was I not there?”

You look up at your lover, his blue eyes pleading, and you can already imagine the scenarios his mind has conjured. If the roles were switched, you’d do the same. You really can’t, and don’t want to — hide anything from him, do you?

“No, it’s not you,” you reassure him.

You hope he reads between your words — he should know that it could never be his fault, that this time around, your problems are a result of your overthinking mind.

You let out a shaky breath, and you let go of one of his hands, tugging the other so you can lead him to your usual spot near the park’s lake. It’s peaceful enough for a conversation, especially at this time of the day.

“Let’s sit down? I think I just want some fresh air for a bit.”

🌠🌠🌠​

It’s quiet, but your hands remain locked together as you walk to the lakeside. The sky has faded to a dark blue already, and it’s clear enough that you can see the stars. You two sit on the nearby bench, and you shiver at the night breeze, people-watching while thinking about how to explain yourself.

Of course, he notices. So, wordlessly, he removes his white jacket and drapes it around you, hands lingering a moment longer to keep you warm.

The truth is, he doesn’t know what to do.

Falling for you is one thing, being there is another, coaxing you out of your shell when you’ve offered him a crumb of your vulnerability tonight is something he has yet to have experience in. His doubt creeps in— what can he do when he himself is no better, used to all the redirection and hiding Although, that had changed when you showed him patience and grace, that despite his secrecy, all you had ever wanted was to show him the same light he gave you— that you loved him in spite of his past, would hold onto him in this new and unfamiliar present, and that you would fight for a peaceful future, not only for him, but for Linkon.

You want this love with him, and you try for it, despite the weight of the Aether Core in your heart and your—still blurry—past on your shoulders.

Now, it’s his time to comfort you in the way he knows how.

Your hands reach for the jacket around you and you compose yourself, closing your eyes—

“I’m not used to this.”

At the sound of his voice, you give your ocean-eyed boyfriend a soft, nervous smile. A beat.

“You can tell me anything, you know. I promise, I’ll be here to listen.”

“So, you know that one Deepspace Trial, right? The one I’ve been stuck on for a month now?”

He nods. It’s the one you’ve been trying to complete solo. “I follow”

“It’s… honestly pretty dumb, but I think it’s getting to me. I want to just finish it already, and I’ve tried using all the weapons I know, but it’s still not enough.” You slump in your seat, the words leaving you like leaves in the wind.

“I don’t — it’s just that when I keep failing, I… I can’t be patient with myself over this, you know? I’m in Alpha Team, for crying out loud. This is supposed to be easy, and it’s a simulation, and I keep falling behind…” you trail off.

Long fingers coax your bunched-up fist at your side open, your partner’s hand gently squeezing yours.

“I can think of several reasons, but… why did you want to do it alone?”

His tone is inquisitive, not accusing. You have every right to want to do it alone. But the answer to that question involves truths that you’re not sure you’re ready to admit to yourself, because once you say what’s been on your mind, everything else you’ve been feeling will follow. Your chest tightens involuntarily.

A sigh. The faraway look in your eyes, the one that lets him know that you have been thinking about something for far too long.

There’s no point in hiding this.

“I just wanted to prove myself.”

He pauses at your answer, a thoughtful look on his face.

“There’s nothing for you to prove, though. You’re skilled, you’ve handled actual solo missions before, not only simulations… but, if there’s anything you need, you have all my security and weapon clearances. I could train you for it too, if you’d like. After all, the Deepspace Trials were designed to be completed by a pair.”

“Xavier, I know, but…”

You look up as the chill of the night sets in, the dark-activated street lamps flickering on. The two of you remain undisturbed. Yet, his warm gaze doesn’t leave you— just waiting.

“Look, you’re right, I have done these things before, on my own. But if I can’t even hold my own in a simulation now, then what more when we’re out on the field? I shouldn’t be having this hard of a time, it’s so hard to fall asleep, it feels like I can’t stop thinking or moving, or else—”

You pause your rambling, heart in your throat as you remember Xavier, pale and heaving for breath, his Light Evol literally leaking out of him in that imitation of what he had called Starfall Forest. You remember the times he’s come home, wounded, and every time you’d bandaged him up. The cold anger you felt discovering that behind all the recent abnormal Metaflux fluctuations, the same one that nearly took Xavier away from you, was EVER.

The weight of your worry is made heavier by the fear that you would see him for the last time, that if you weren’t strong enough, you’d end up all alone. Just like with the shelter during the Chronorift Catastrophe, just like with Grandma and Caleb—

Another deep breath.

“Or else I won’t be strong enough to protect you.”

To you, the admission of weakness is shame, and you look towards the ground, voice quiet and breaking.

“I wish I was as selfless as you, because I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want anything… not even EVER, or your old squad, to keep us apart. You think I wouldn’t want to protect you the same way you protect me?”

A hand presses against your cheek, softly wiping the tears that have run down in your frustration, and you look up, meeting deep blues and understanding.

At your gaze, Xavier pulls you into his embrace. You lean in— the warmth meaning that his heart is still beating, that he is here, that he is very much alive.

You see sparks fizzle around the edges of his arms, an instant flash of white light, and before you know it, you’re back in your apartment, no longer on a bench but on your couch, Xavier still wrapped around you.

From the corner of your eye, the moonlight shines through your window, and several specks of light have come out to illuminate your apartment, like tiny fireflies. The flight from the park to your space is surprisingly gentle on your senses.

“At first, I didn’t want you to know.”

You feel him mumble into your hair, and slowly, he detaches from you.

“I wanted to protect you too. I thought… that by letting you find out the truth for yourself, I was doing the right thing. But you wanted to trust me, right?”

“I know you want to be strong. I also want to be strong enough for you. But that’s something that we have to do together, not apart.”

The corners of your mouth turn upward, and you let out a small chuckle at the situation. “It takes one to know one, right?”

He places a lock of hair behind her ear. “And you’ve showed me that it’s okay to accept help. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But—” the stubborn part of your psyche verbalizes,

“Doesn’t the fact that I always come back show how good you are at keeping me here?”

“That’s different from patching you up, Xav. I don’t want to wait until you get an injury that I can’t stitch together,” you huff.

“That’s why I’ll let you know where I am, and what I’m doing.”

He taps your Hunter’s Watch, opening a small app. “You should check this from time to time, because now you’ll have my coordinates any time you want to look for me.” “But there’s still such a long way to go for me, and I don’t know how to be patient with myself when I’m just so scared—”

He shifts closer. “We’re partners. You don’t need to prove yourself to me, or to anyone else, not even yourself. You’re strong, and just because we don’t know the whole truth behind the explosion doesn’t mean it’s your fault. I promise, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Your hand reaches out to his, instinctively looking for comfort. His fingers interlock with yours.

“What you need, I’ll fill in. I’ll be gentle with you, until you remember what it’s like to be there for yourself, and even after that. I know for a fact that you’ll have my back every time, even if you say that you still aren’t the best. You’ll only go upward from here. But when you place those impossible burdens on your heart…”

A gentle kiss on your forehead, like starlight.

“You’ll also get hurt. And I don’t want that.” He smiles at you reassuringly. “I’m a bit selfish like that too.”

The next words come out in a whisper, only meant for your ears. “Because I love you.”

Stunned, you merely touch your forehead against his, grounding yourself in the moment. Even as life goes on outside your apartment, this time belongs to you and Xavier. Because what is strength, when you hide and keep a stiff upper lip to maintain a facade around the people you love the most? It leaves you hollow from the inside out. Ironically, it’s only when you brought down your walls that you felt so whole — not because you relied on your own composure, but because you allowed yourself to be supported by him— by Xavier. So even if you can’t fully trust yourself just yet, even as the forces that be plot, prepare, and scheme, you’re not alone. Not when he’s right there, by your side.

“I love you too,” you say, quietly.

A promise, a conviction, a hope embodied in 4 words.

The two of you seal them with a kiss under the moonlight.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

i was,,,,,, inspired .

[frogzedat-thelizardcouncil]

I'm going to scream. Symbolism is in all art. Most all art is in some way a metaphor or trying to tell you something and they communicate that through symbolism among other tools used to express meaning.

That stupid "sometimes the curtains are just blue" thing has ruined people. Everything you see in a work is there for a reason! Every stroke of the pencil, every individual word, and the order they are in was a decision a real human made. They are all important. They all can be used to determine what a work is trying to tell you.

AI doesn't do that. The robot makes the whole image or story haphazardly with no intent other than to have an output for a prompt. It is valueless salad from an algorithm. Artificial Intelligence is a misnomer for whatever ChatGPT and Dall-e are.

AI people: we're just as much artists as you are, you gotta be so observant and go through so many correcting phases for the picture to look good uwu also AI people:

[yariation]

🎀~ 𝕌𝕟𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝

Megumi sees you in a g-string/thong for the first time—immediately regretting calling them unpractical

aged up Megumi, lingerie, doggy-style, mdni

"What is that?" Megumi asks with a raised eyebrow.

He watches you as you take your shopping haul out of their bags. There a food, mostly sweets and some your guy's favourite snacks. A few clothes, some  soft pyjamas for him and some tops for you. But what caught his eyes the most, was the small, thin, lacy piece of clothing you were taking out of a bag.

For each item you would say short sentence, about what is and why you bought it. Almost as if you were making a video. Megumi loves it, he finds your voice relaxing and watches intently, but would never admit that he likes it that much. Most of the time he pretends he couldn't care less.

But for this item, you didn't say anything, simply putting it to the side with the rest of the folded clothes you bought.

"Oh, just panties. Needed some new ones." You say casually, already un-bagging other items.

Megumi crawls closer to you on the couch, reaching to grab the piece of clothing beside you. He holds it with both hands, fingers pinching each corner as he holds it up in front of him.

"Why's it so... thin?" He says almost confused. "These do NOT look like your regular panties." You watch as your boyfriend messes with the fabric and measures it with his fingers.

"It's a thong, Megumi." You explain, watching him with a small smile.

"You said it was panties."

"They're the same thing."

"No. This one looks more uncomfortable. The straps are too thin, they'd barely cover and protect your skin. It's almost like it'll just go between your-" His face flushes at the thought. "A-and the lace... it look... itchy. It might irritate your skin."

You giggle softly, looking at your boyfriend who looks genuinely worried. But nothing can hide the blush that decorates his face. Gently, you take the white thong out of his hand, swinging it around your finger.

"I just wanted to try them out, okay?" You shrug, leaning back on the couch.

Megumi rolls his eyes. "It's unpractical."

"Impractical."

"Unpractical." He repeats himself. Using the less popular, but better word.

"Whatever. I'm just gonna try them on." You push yourself off the couch and start heading to your bedroom.

Megumi just sits there, sighing before he continues reading his book while waiting for you. After a few moments, you emerge from the bedroom. Wearing your loose indoor t-shirt and the thong. Megumi's eyes flick up to you like a deer caught in headlights. Your face shows uncertainty and you do a quick spin. You didn't really think they looked good.

"They look kind of weird..." You mutter, looking at Megumi.

His lips are slightly agape, his grip on his book tightening. He realises he's staring and immediately looks away, clearing throat. His face is bright red and he hastily places his book on top of his lap, to cover a certain something.

"It looks good." He utters.

You tilt your head to the side and start walking over to him. He tenses up the closer you get. You take a seat on his lap.

"Oh? But I thought you said it's unpractical?"

~~~

"F-fuck, you better buy more of these..." He tugs on the thong with his right hand, his other hand pushing down on your back, keeping it arched.

Your face is smothered against the pillows, muffled noises leaving your lips with every thrust of Megumi's hips. His cock grazing against the narrow fabric of your thong that's pushed to the side. He's so deep inside you, you swear you feel him pounding your cervix.

Every time you try to shy away or escape his relentless thrusts into your poor pussy, he only presses you harder against the bed. Every time you try to bring your rear down, away from his length that slides in and out, in such ways that hit every perfect spot inside you that makes you squirm.

He uses his grip on your thong to pull your ass back up, so he could keep himself deep inside your battered pussy.

"This thing looks so- hck! G-good on you, fuck, Y/n..." He groans into your ear. His hard chest leaning against your back. 

He lifts himself off you, angling his hips. He watches how your essence drips out of you, and ruins your thong. Loving how every time he hits the right spot, you just cry and squirm. He tugs you higher up by your thong. The fabric tight against your clit now. Friction being made as he tugs and pulls, very thrust making the thong move against your little bud.

His thrusts become sloppy and his hold on you tighter. He moves his other hand off your back and uses it to hold your waist. He buries himself deep inside you before releasing into the elastic of the condom, the warmth of his seed making your walls soak.

"C'monnnn, you too now." He lets go your thong and rubs his fingers against the fabric that cover your clit. Slowly moving inside of you a bit more until you come around him, making both your head fuzzy.

His thrown back head tilts back down to look at you. Writhing under him, your newly bought white thong wet and the lace slightly ripped.

"Let's get you washed up. We're going to the mall."

[agustdtown1]

CLOSER TO YOU [JJK]

PAIRING: nerdy!roommate!jungkook x fem!OF!reader

GENRE: smut, roommates au, nerdy!jk, photography major!jk, friends to fuck buddies.

SUMMARY: After getting various comments about your poor filming skills for your OF page, you finally decided to give in and reach out to the one person that could help you with your problem. However, what started as your roommate just helping you to film your video turned into you begging him to fuck you.

How long would it take for Jungkook to finally give in? After all, all he ever wanted was to be closer to you.

WC: 8,7k

WARNINGS: smut, masturbation, fingering, voyeurism, dirty talk, nerdy!jungkook going from shy to freaky to shy and freaky again. Pet names, jungkook with glasses (that NEEDS a warning idc), jk being completely whipped for reader but also mocking her and being a little shit when he got into it. Use of “good girl” (1), mention of only fans and adult content. If I’m missing something lmk!

A/N: part one is finally out!! I honestly feel nervous to post again and I really hope you guys enjoy this one! lmk what you think in the comments or sending an ask, enjoy ur reading <3!

masterlist

“I need a favor.”

You barging into his room along with those three words were enough to break the quiet and cozy atmosphere that your roommate had going on. He was sitting in his gaming chair, with his headphones covering his ears and glasses slightly falling off the bridge of his nose. Jungkook looked startled, with his big, round eyes staring at you as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t, when in reality a loud and violent video game was the only thing playing on his computer screen.

“H-Hi to you too.” His response and his rapid way of blinking let you know that Jungkook was not expecting you to come into his room unannounced, however, there was not a single complaint flying out of his mouth. More often than not, you would invade his personal space with your overenthusiastic self, chatting his ear off about some new gossip from your class that he was not really interested in, but Jungkook being Jungkook could never tell you to shut up, even when it was needed. “What do you need? Is everything okay?”

A pang of guilt spread through your chest by the way he completely abandoned whatever game he was playing to put his undivided attention on you when he noticed how distressed you were; what you were about to ask him was far from being a serious or urgent matter, but rather something that might bring chaos and awkwardness into your friendship. In all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you decided to entertain the idea of asking for Jungkook’s help. All you knew is that Eunbi, your best friend, was very eloquent while suggesting your roommate as a solution for your problem, and while you weren’t exactly desperate, you didn’t want to spend more time thinking of other alternatives either.

So here you were, hoping that the following minutes would remain the same after you inevitably tell Jungkook the truth.

“Y/n…? Is everything alright?” He asked once again, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, right! It is. I just…” A frustrated sigh escaped your lips. “I need a huge favor, but I don’t know how to tell you.”

“You know you can tell me anything, I’m here for whatever you need.” His tender smile made that guilty feeling become stronger.

You tried to find the words to voice the idea running through your mind without making this situation painfully weird, but nothing could really prevent the inevitable awkward silence that was bound to be installed between you two once you put it all out.

The favor and the help you needed was regarding your line of work, something that Jungkook was pretty much aware of, but never fully involved in. Being a creator for adult content, more specifically for only fans, was already hard enough to explain to him when he moved in with you a few years ago, but somehow you managed to make it seem as if it wasn’t a big deal. You thought that it would be a dealbreaker, that Jungkook would run far away from you and never even consider being your roommate when you told him you made content for only fans, however, after a few days, he willingly showed up at your apartment with boxes full of his belongings and a shy smile, telling you that he was ready to live with you.

That memory was the only thing keeping you from running out of his room and hiding inside your own until the embarrassment subsided, instead, it helped you to follow through with your plan and accept the outcome of this, like the confident woman that you were.

However, the long pauses that you were taking to organize your ideas were starting to worry the brown-eyed boy in front of you. He’s never seen you like this before, hesitating and so unsure of yourself. Your confident demeanor would often throw him off, and the way you so surely carried yourself wherever you went was a stark contrast to his shy and awkward way of living, but that’s something Jungkook was used to, that’s how things worked between you two. You were the easygoing, extroverted friend that would strike up a conversation with almost anyone, while he was the quiet, shy and reserved friend that was ready to lend his shoulder if you ever needed a good cry.

But this, the way you were so notoriously nervous and preoccupied was something new for Jungkook, a new side of you that he never thought he would see.

“Listen, Y/n, you don’t have to tell me right now. I’ll help you with anything you need, but if you feel like it’s too much in this moment, you can talk to me about it whenever you’re rea–”

“I need you to help me film a video for my page.”

There, you said it, it was all set in stone, with no way to go back. No backtracking, no regretting, no way to undo it. Your words hung in the air with a heavy weight falling upon you two. If Jungkook was startled when you came into his room, he was completely dumbfounded after listening to what you needed.

“Co-Come again.” It wasn’t the smartest way to ask you to repeat yourself, but it sure fit into the conversation. “I-I mean, are you seriously asking me to do what I think you’re asking?”

He wasn’t stupid, Jungkook was familiar with your work, and while he didn’t consume your content, apart from a few pictures he looked at while scrolling through your page out of curiosity, the boy knew exactly what your deal was. Posting your whole body on the internet for almost anyone to see was the easiest way to describe your job; making videos, taking pictures that left little to the imagination for the people that came across your profile, even going as far as hosting lives to chat with your followers and sometimes cater to their filthy needs. That’s the kind of job you had, the kind of things you were willing to do, and it was crystal clear how comfortable and okay you were with it.

Jungkook had never judged you or questioned what you did for a living, not once in the years he’s known you, mainly out of respect and because it was none of his business, but also because he didn’t want to think or imagine the things you did in front of the camera. Now, however, he might have to, because what you were asking of him was more than what he was expecting from you.

Asking him to cook dinner, fix your laptop or pick up his clothes from the bathroom floor was okay with him, he could do it in a heartbeat, but filming a video for your secret page was something he was not ready for.

“I know it sounds crazy, believe me. I actually thought about this for a few days, but I wouldn’t ask you to do it if I truly didn’t need your help.” You were almost ready to beg him at this point. It has been weeks since the last time you posted a video and the lack of content was starting to upset your followers. There was really no other option. “I swear I’ll try to make it as normal as possible, but I really need you”

She needs me.

Jungkook had to look away from you, the pleading eyes you were sending his way were starting to affect him more than they should have, and while he was usually willing to lend you a helping hand at any moment, this time he really needed some time to think about it.

“I don’t know, Y/n…” He hesitated, taking his glasses off for a brief moment and rubbing his eyes. “I mean, why me? Doesn’t Eunbi usually help you with that stuff?”

“Yeah, she does, but it’s mainly to help me choose an outfit, makeup or the color of the lights. She doesn’t know about cameras like you do. And lately my followers have been complaining about my poor filming skills.” You finally explained your reasons behind it all. “You’re a photography major after all, wouldn’t you know about angles, settings, and all that stuff better than us?”

You took some cautious steps towards your roommate before making him turn around in his chair only for you to sit on his lap. You were aware that it was an unfair strategy to use on him, but desperate times call for desperate measures, don’t they?

A blaring alarm went off inside of Jungkook’s head the moment you became painfully close to him, invading his personal space. Then again, it was not out of the ordinary for you to be touchy-feely with him, but the boy still had a hard time getting used to your overly affectionate demeanor. His hands were eager to lay on the warm skin of your waist and feel your soft flesh against his, nonetheless, he knew better than crossing that line. If Jungkook wanted to maintain his sanity, he needed to remain still for as long as possible.

“Would you be a sweetheart and help me with this, Kookie?

Fuck, not that nickname.

Jungkook melted right on the spot whenever you called him that or any other short variant of his name. He was weak for you and both of you were aware of it.

“I…” It was a hard decision, but how could he say no to you when you were looking at him as if he was your only saviour. “Okay, yes. I’ll help you, but just this time. I will teach you everything you need to know to make your videos better, but next time you’ll be on your own.”

“Oh my god! Thank you, Kook, thank you so much.” Your arms found their way to his neck, engulfing the shy boy into an effusive hug. “I promise I’ll repay you with anything you want.”

“We can figure that out afterwards, don’t worry about it now.” He assured you with a sheepish grin while his hands finally reciprocated the affection by timidly patting your back.

The more you stayed in that position, the more Jungkook wondered if he was really ready to take such a big step into your dynamic, however, there was no way out. You were already counting on him.

What have I gotten myself into?

The following days were spent trying to figure out the logistics and set a schedule that would work for the both of you. Despite what anyone would think, Jungkook was a very busy guy, between his major, work and tutoring lessons he offered three days a week, he had little to no time to hangout with his friends or even watch a movie with you. Therefore, Saturday seemed like the safest option to film the video. Usually Jungkook would play online games with his friends during the weekends as it was the only time he could actually have some free time for himself, but he was willing to sacrifice one day just this time, especially if it was for you.

The boy was in a constant fight or flight mode during those days, overthinking every single minute of his day about how terribly wrong the whole thing could go. He had a plan from A to Z for any unfortunate situation that might occur, only to prevent ruining your friendship any further. Jungkook was so anxious and absorbed in the predicament that he didn’t even notice when Saturday finally arrived.

In a blink of an eye both of you were already making sure that everything was ready to start filming. You would use his professional camera instead of your phone to enhance the quality of the video; he helped you find the perfect spot in your room, void of your personal stuff or anything that could be used to reveal your real identity. He even showed you the angles that you could use to prevent your face from showing but still giving your followers what they wanted. The setting and ambience was perfect, with the perfect amount of lighting and the right color to make the whole moment more enjoyable for your viewers.

“Whenever you’re ready.” His soft voice echoed through the room while you were doing some touch ups to your makeup. Jungkook was doing a good job with keeping a straight face and calm attitude. It was barely impossible to tell how nervous and anxious he was at that precise moment.

“I’m ready.” You stood up from the chair in front of your vanity, and started your way towards the place where you would be filming. It was a corner decorated with a bunch of pillows and a fluffy blanket to make it comfortable for you. “I should take this off now, shouldn’t I?” A nervous giggle escaped your mouth while pointing to your robe.

It would be the first time you would present yourself like this to Jungkook, at least that you were aware of. The boy had already seen more of your body that he would’ve preferred, thanks to his curiosity, however, this time it was different, it wasn’t a simple picture of you in lingerie or with your bare chest showing. It was you in the flesh, quite literally. Naked and ready to put your body under a plethora of sensations he could only think of —he shouldn’t even think about it in all honesty—, along with sounds that up until this moment were only part of his imagination.

“Do-Do you want me to like… turn around?”

It was an innocent and genuine question, yet you couldn’t help but laugh.

“There’s no point. You’ll have to see me to check that the filming is going right, either way.” You waved him off, trying to ease his worries. “It’s okay, don’t read too much into it, you’re only being a good friend and helping me.”

“Sure… a good friend.”

Why does it bother me so much when she calls me that?

Oh, if only he understood.

“Okay, here goes nothing.” In a swift motion you undid the knot of your robe, taking the piece of clothing completely off to show your body covered in the prettiest set of red lingerie that you owned.

Your tits were engulfed by the soft lace of your bra, adorned with a red bow right in the center, drawing more attention to your cleavage. Your panties left little to the imagination; see through lace covering just enough to tease the viewers and make them crave for more of your beautiful body. In hindsight, it wasn’t the sexiest or most elegant set out there, but you liked the way it enhanced your features just the right way to feel comfortable and sexy with your body. And as it turns out, Jungkook thought exactly the same.

The boy could not tear his eyes, covered with his round glasses, away from your figure, taking his time to let the way you presented yourself before him sink in. So bare and vulnerable, yet so sexy and confident. You looked incredibly stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, delectable… words were not enough to describe what he thought of you the moment your robe fell to your feet. However, along with appreciating your body came the realization that helping you film this video would be the hardest task he would ever do.

How can I do this to myself?

“Does it look good?” A very dangerous question, but it was intended to ease the tension already forming in between the two. The longer Jungkook took to answer, the more you wondered if you chose the correct outfit “Should I change?”

“No!” His answer, then, was definitive. “I-I mean, you don’t really need to change, unless you want to. It looks… good, very good on you.” He used one finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

His cheeks turning red was something you could not ignore, it brought a sweet smile to your face.

“Alright then, let’s get this over with!”

A faint fighting came out of your roommate’s mouth while waiting for you to position yourself in front of the camera. The moment you stepped into the comfortable yet sexy set your whole demeanor changed. Your cheerful smile was replaced with a cheeky smirk; your eyes were charged with this sensual energy that made the boy in front of you swallow harshly; your velvety voice was like a siren chant, luring him to step closer and fall into the trap.

Jungkook was mesmerized by the nonchalant way you executed every single movement, as if it was second nature for you, and it sure was. It was part of your routine, part of your lifestyle. The brown-haired man was only now discovering what it was like, but you’ve been under the spotlight for quite some time. Your hands knew perfectly well the path they had to go through to get to the most sensitive parts of your body. Your fingers knew just the right amount of pressure they had to put into your flesh to elicit those sinful sounds. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts, you knew what to do and you loved every single second of it.

Jungkook was entranced by your performance, hands curled into fists to prevent them from acting on their own; cheeks tinted with a rosy color that got lost in the red lights adorning your room. His eyes were glued to your fingers dancing up and down your sides, stealing faint sighs out of you. He had a love-hate reaction to how long you were taking to strip out of your bra. It was sensual, teasing, yet it made the boy fall into a desperate state, eager to see you fully, in all your glory.

“I’ve missed you guys so much.” Your sultry voice sent a shiver down his spine, but the words coming out of your mouth were a cold reminder that he wasn’t there as a viewer but rather as a helper. “It’s been so long since the last time we saw each other.”

A small gasp fell from your lips when you finally pushed down the cups of your bra to display your bare chest. Your hardened nipples were glazed with your saliva after running your wet fingers over them. Little by little you let loose, forgetting that Jungkook was even there, watching you touch yourself and talk to the camera with the most cliche and nasty lines you’ve mastered up until now. Once again, it was part of your routine, and in that routine you needed to have some sort of interaction with your viewers. But truth be told, Jungkook was loving it. He loved how free you looked, and probably felt. He loved how careless you were, how you never hesitated to take a step further and further until you were fully naked, panting and moaning while your fingers graced your inner thighs with a tender touch. He loved it because you were in your element, you were in full control of yourself and body, and that was beyond attractive for him.

“Shit.” A breathy moan elicited from your soft lips when your fingers ran over your folds with a feather-like touch. “I’m so wet.”

Fuck.

Jungkook mentally cursed himself for getting into this situation. It was so hard to watch you in such a lewd way and not be able to get involved. But then again, even thinking of the possibility of being the reason behind your sinful sounds was beyond wrong. You were his friend, his roommate for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t be thinking of you in that way.

He shouldn’t think of how beautiful you’d look under him, writhing and chanting his…

“Jungkook.”

Fuck, yes.

“Jungkook!”

If only I could make her sound like that.

“Kook!! I’m talking to you.”

Your urgent tone snapped him out of his dirty thoughts. His eyes connected with yours, with a disoriented expression as he fixed his glasses.

“Shit, sorry, I just… zoned out for a bit.” He tried to excuse himself, but the way his voice cracked in the middle of the sentence prevented it from sounding sincere. “Wh-What were you saying?”

You chuckled, deciding to ignore his reaction and cutting right to the point.

“I can’t get into it.”

“What do you mean?”

His tilted head and innocent, round eyes made your frustration lessen. The whole time you let your hands run free over your skin you were trying —almost begging, to get in the mood to continue with the video, but as it turned out, you were nowhere near turned on. It was disappointing — after putting so much effort into it and gathering the courage to ask Jungkook for help, you couldn’t even get aroused.

What is wrong with me today?

With a deep sigh, you sat right up and covered your naked skin with the fluffy blanket next to you. “What I mean is that I can’t get in the mood to, you know… do it.”

“I’m not following.” Jungkook shook his head slowly, trying to comprehend the message that you were sending him. “Do you need anything? Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not that. I just can’t get turned on.” Plain and simple. He surely would get what you were trying to say.

“You mean that you’re not–”

“Oh my god, I’m not wet enough to continue filming!”

A pregnant silence fell into the room. Neither of you dared to move or say a single thing after that. Jungkook was rendered speechless after your confession and you could not even look at his face due to the embarrassment you were experiencing right in that moment. Maybe it was too much information, but then again, you were literally naked in front of him, voicing out your frustrations to the only other person in the room wouldn’t be that bad, would it?

Well, apparently it was, especially because it was not just anyone but Jungkook. The boy who not only had to endure seeing you touch yourself but also had to listen to your ridiculous complaints about not being aroused.

“Bu-But you just… you said you were…” He couldn’t even finish his sentence. “Fuck, I feel so lost right now.”

The brown-eyed boy was so confused, if your facial expressions and sounds were anything to go by, Jungkook could swear on his life that you were enjoying it. Your frustrated reaction and straightforward confession threw him off; how come he was fighting his own instincts and urges to not come right on the spot while you were faking it all along? Maybe it was due to being the first time in such an environment with you. Would your viewers know when you’re not being genuine and that’s why you stopped? Or was he really that clueless to women’s pleasure?

“I was acting.” You confessed. “Sometimes I talk like that to help myself and get in the mood, but clearly today is not working for me.” A dejected groan flew out of your mouth.

“Can I, I don’t know, help you with that?” He shyly asked, “Maybe it’s because I’m here. Perhaps having another person in the room is making it difficult for you, I can leave…”

You shook your head, “No, if anything, your presence is helping me to feel somehow relaxed.” You thought about it for a second, trying to come up with a quick solution. “Maybe we can try something else.”

“What would that be?”

It took you a few seconds to voice your idea, mainly out of fear and nervousness due to how much it could damage your friendship. In all honesty, involving Jungkook in the filming was already damaging and risky enough, but it was still within the limits you mentally established for this situation. What you were about to ask him, however, was beyond those limits.

“Could you step closer?” You waited a few seconds before developing your whole idea. “I mean, could you film me from a closer angle?”

“Would that really help?” He asked in a shaky voice.

“We could try and see.”

And see he did. Jungkook moved from his position behind the camera, trying to get his equipment and himself as close to you as possible —losing a little bit of his sanity in the process— with the utmost caution and respect. He didn’t want to overstep the boundaries that were established before starting filming, he also didn’t want to do a wrong movement and throw everything to waste. Jeon had the opportunity to see your body from a closer perspective, and albeit unsure, he managed to keep calm and resume his work.

“Is this okay?” Your roommate asked, angling the camera to focus solely on the space between your legs, right where your fingers wished to disappear in. “Tell me if it becomes too much, okay?”

“Will do.”

After listening to your words of approval and making sure you felt comfortable with the new position, Jungkook continued filming you and every single movement you did. It was hypnotizing how you so confidently went back to your previous endeavors to get you in the mood. Your noises sounded sexier, your breathing was heavier, your eyes were closed tighter than before, willing yourself to enjoy the moment thoroughly and push back the feeling of being so exposed to the only man you swore would never see you like this.

Jungkook tried to stay calm and collected, cool and relaxed, even when he felt the air getting stuck in his throat when he watched your fingers dive into your warm walls through the lenses of the camera.

“Fuck…” He breathed out without realizing. The boy was quick to cover his mouth with his hand when he noticed your quizzical look. “Sorry.” Jungkook mouthed and focused on his work as the cameraman.

You continued with your ministrations, ignoring the heat in your cheeks that wasn’t exactly due to finally getting worked up from your touches. Your fingers moved in and out of your cunt, slowly and carefully, as if you were calculating what you were going to do next. A faint moan fell from your lips, eliciting a raspy groan from the boy in front of you.

Right in that moment you noticed how aggravated Jungkook was. Eyes shining in the dark like a pair of beautiful stars but with a glint of lust covering them along with his glasses; lips parted, letting out his heavy breath and small sighs. His hands were twitching at his sides, eager to move and, most likely, to touch what he was not even allowed to taste.

Maybe this was more than he could handle, maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to help you with this video, perhaps this was already creating a dent in your friendship that you were nowhere close to know how to fix, but the way he was looking at you was nothing you had ever seen before, at least not from him. There was hunger, need and desperation mixed in his hard glare, and as much as you wanted to deny and ignore it, his reaction was doing wonders on you. And so a new idea was installed in your mind. Your friendship was already beyond salvation, how bad would it be to make a last request?

“Kook…” You breathed out, “I need you.”

It was so subtle, so fleeting the smugness that covered his face that you barely noticed. His eyes widened and his lips moved like that of a fish trying to survive out of the water, he didn’t know what to do, much less what to say.

“Me?” He whispered, completely clueless of the effect he was having on you in that moment. You nodded, fingers stilling in between your legs. “Wh-What do you mean?”

You sat up, stopping the filming once again. “Exactly what I said, I need you… I-I need your help with something else. You can say no, but… I would be forever grateful to you if you said yes.”

Jungkook was putting to use his 128 IQ score to try and understand what you were hinting at, but none the wiser, he needed the words spelled out to him to get your idea. And so, as softly as possible, you explained what your need was actually about. You noticed the way his body reacted to you and the show you were putting on for your viewers but more specifically for him; it was painfully obvious how much he desired you, and in all honesty, you weren’t any better.

Ever since you two started living together, you swore that you wouldn’t act on the small and silly crush you developed for him after meeting for the first time. It was just a silly attraction that wasn’t worth the hassle of getting involved with your roommate; his built body and big biceps drove you crazy, and you couldn’t turn a blind eye to the intricate tattoos adorning his arm, which was such a stark contrast to the type of man he made himself out to be; the lip ring shining from his mouth was so painfully enticing, and more often than not, you found yourself wondering what it would feel like against your lips while kissing the life out of him. And God bless the person that gets you started on how much you loved those black rimmed glasses that adorned his eyes almost 24/7, giving him a geeky look that would never fail to make you weak in the knees. But all of those features, as well as the lewd scenarios conquering your mind minutes before going to sleep, had made it difficult for you to stay in your lane all this time. Tonight, however, might be your one and only chance to turn your dirty dreams into reality, only and only if Jungkook agreed to your idea.

“I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.” He murmured, looking down at the floor and avoiding your hopeful eyes glaring at him. You reached out for him, your soft hands coming in contact with his covered thighs while you kneeled in front of him. “Y/n… don’t do this to me.” His whole body stiffened, fighting the urge to jump your bones and turn you into a crying mess just like he always imagined.

“You don’t want me like that, Kookie?” You so innocently asked, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones. “Is that the real problem, hm?” Your hands were sliding up and down his thighs, teasing him.

“God, no.” He answered breathlessly, “You have no fucking idea how bad I want you…”

“Then why don’t you show me? What’s stopping you, hm?” Your cheek resting on his jean-covered thigh elicited a soft gasp from your roommate. “It's just a small favor.”

“I… fuck, you’re driving me crazy right now.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends while letting out a frustrated groan. Jungkook took off his glasses while rubbing his eyes before looking at you again. “You have to promise… you really have to promise that it will be a one-time thing. No more favors after this, at least not of this caliber.”

You nodded eagerly, looking at him with a spark in your eyes. “I promise, just this time.”

“Okay,” Jungkook nodded, “I’ll help you with anything you need.” One of his hands, albeit shakily, reached out to push away a strand of hair falling into your face.

With a wide grin you pull his hand to get him closer to you. It was a bit hard to get his face and the majority of his body out of frame, but both of you managed. Jungkook sat behind you, with his built back leaning on the soft pillows while yours was resting on his firm chest. Both of his strong arms wrapped around your body while his hesitant hands touched your skin lightly.

In all honesty he didn’t know what to do, it felt unreal to be this close to you, especially under those conditions. Jeon was trying so hard to figure out what to do next that the tension conquering his body was noticed by you.

“Relax, Kook, do what you would do with any other girl.” You tried to reassure him while softly stroking his forearm, but the silence in between you two was making you feel uneasy. “You’ve done this before, right?”

Should he answer honestly? The short answer would be yes, he’s done it before; the long one though, would be that he only did it once when he lost his virginity at a random party his friends at the time invited him to. Jungkook couldn’t even remember the name of the girl or how she looked, all he could recall from that time was the awkwardness and how short it lasted. Jeon wasn’t sure that he could live up to your expectations, and while he was not clueless to how it worked, he doubted his performance would be as amazing as that of all your previous sexual partners, which caused part of his nervousness.

He was reading too much into it whereas you were starting to feel desperate and needy. You had the boy of your dreams right behind you with his hands very close to the place that was basically begging to be touched, but not much has happened. It was a bit disappointing how long it was taking him to act, but you also understood that it might not be an easy task to do, especially if it was your roommate doing it.

“Let’s go with an easy start, okay? I’ll lead.” Your hands reached out for his, guiding his right hand towards one of your tits. “You can explore my body as much as you want, don’t be afraid to touch.” And just as if you were reading his mind, you added, “Don’t think too much about it, I won’t be mad if this doesn’t go as planned.”

“Okay.” With a deep sigh he let his fingers feel your skin up, touching, caressing, pinching even.

His slender fingers wrapped around one of your already hardened nipples, toying with it, which elicited a soft gasp from you. His other hand slowly reached for your other tit, trying to stimulate both at the same time.

“Yes… like that, Kook.” Your praising words were helping him to build up his confidence. The more you praised him, the more adventurous he got, letting his hands explore the entirety of your body.

After a few more minutes of playing with your boobs, his hands finally started to drift south, with feather-like touches here and there before reaching your tender thighs. His big hands looked very attractive against your flesh, like the prettiest accessory. The one that was cladded with a bunch of tattoos started to descend more and more, landing small smacks on your inner thigh.

“Oh…” you breathed out, a bit surprised by the sudden move.

“Sorry, should I not have done that?” Jungkook asked, retrieving both of his hands.

“No, no, no!” You pulled them right back where they were placed before. “Please continue… I really liked what you were doing.”

“Okay.”

With a more confident attitude, Jungkook started to touch your thighs, kneading your skin while his hot breath was hitting the back of your neck. In all honesty, it all felt surreal, you never thought that a moment like this would ever happen, that you would have the same boy that you had fantasized about many times before touching you and willing to please you.

“You can use more than your hands, you know?” You whispered softly, closing your eyes due to how good everything was feeling.

“Are you sure?” He murmured really close to your ear, sending shivers through your body. You hummed in response, leaning more and more into his touch. “So, it would be okay if I do this.” His lips graced your neck with a faint kiss, eliciting a small gasp from you. “Or this,” a firmer kiss was placed right under your ear, Jungkook’s lips moving skillfully. “And since I’m at it, you surely wouldn’t mind me doing this,” His teeth sank into your skin suddenly. “Right?”

“Shit…” You moaned out loud, “N-No, I… I don’t mind, at all.”

A husky chuckle erupted from his throat, “Good.” His hands kept moving in between your legs, now finally reaching your needy cunt. “Are you sure you want me to do anything I want to you, Y/n?” You once again hummed, unable to properly answer due to his touches. “I think I might need to hear you say it, before I go any further.”

If he was trying to get your consent or just teasing you, you didn’t know, but you were sure of one thing, you needed to feel any part of him inside of you. Now.

“Fuck, yes, I’m completely sure, don’t make me wait anymore, please.”

It was the please added at the end that really did it for him, the way your needy and desperate voice echoed through the room was enough for Jungkook to give you what you wanted.

He finally pushed one of his fingers inside your velvety walls, slowly sliding in and out with enough easiness that got you wondering just then how wet you were before he started touching you. Your whole body squirmed, reacting at how great it felt to be touched like that. Curses, moans and gasps were falling from your lips, creating the most sensual cacophony.

“You like that?” His husky voice rang through your ears, earning an effusive nod from you, “You like that I’m touching you like this, hm?” You could feel the smug smile against your skin, right under your earlobe, “Maybe I should try harder, since you’re not answering to me.” With no further warning, Jungkook added a second finger, stretching you out deliciously. He picked up his pace as well, pushing in and out with such vigor that got you sinking your nails into your palms.

“Oh my god!” You breathed out.

Where was this sudden change in attitude coming from? Not a minute ago he was acting shy and reserved, as if he had never touched a woman before, as if he didn’t have it in him to wreck you in the way you wanted. But now, that whole act was left behind and there seemed to be no trace of the innocent and nerdy Jungkook you thought you knew, only this suddenly confident and teasing boy, ready to make you fall apart on his fingers.

“That’s not quite the answer I’m looking for.” Jeon goaded you on to the response he wanted from you. “Come on, pretty, tell me how much you like it.”

“Fuck…” You cursed out loud, “I-I can’t.”

It was difficult for you to concentrate on gathering the words that your roommate wished to hear due to his fingers moving deliciously inside of you. He was hitting the right spots with his long and slender digits, over and over again to the point that tears were pooling in the corner of your eyes.

“Hm, and why is that?” Jungkook questioned with feigned innocence in his voice. “Is it really that difficult for you to speak?”

You nodded desperately, looking into his eyes right through those slutty glasses you adored so much. “I can’t… I-I can’t con… centrate.” You finally admitted.

A mocking chuckle flew out of his mouth, his fingers never relenting, “Poor little you.”

“Ah, fuck, Kook.” Your sounds were becoming dirtier, needier, more naughty and desperate as the familiar hot sensation started to invade your body. You knew your release was coming with such rapidness and ease.

It was astonishing how Jungkook could so effortlessly get you to your breaking point, when it took you several minutes to even get aroused. You wanted to believe that it was all due to your previous touching, but deep down you knew that doing it on your own would never get you the pleasure you were experimenting in that moment.

“Shit, you’re squeezing my fingers so much.” He pointed out, struggling to move thanks to the firm grip your walls had on his digits. “So tight and warm.”

If only he knew that his way of talking was only contributing to your forthcoming release. Your eyes could not look away from his face. His hard features and the way his lustful orbs were looking right down at you got you in a trance, one that you didn’t want to get out. The faint smirk on the corner of his lips, along with the lip ring were once again taunting you, tempting you; threatening you with a good time, and just as you were about to reach and find out if your assumptions were correct, Jungkook leaned down and captured your lips in a harsh kiss.

Kissing you for the first time was life-changing, or so he would say, because despite all the girls –only a few actually– he has ever kissed or been intimate with, Jungkook has never felt like this with any of them, so addicted, so eager to taste more of you; craving you in ways that he probably shouldn’t.Your lips were so soft and sweet, and it was right in that moment that he realized that it would be a living hell to go back to normal after getting a taste of you. The way your mouth was chasing after him when he pulled away briefly due to running out of air, it drove him crazy, making him feel light in the head. Being able to see that look in your face as your orgasm was approaching, while your puffy, red lips were begging him to kiss you more was, in fact, something that Jungkook would never forget.

Kissing Jungkook for the first time felt exactly like you imagined, dangerous and messy. It was dangerous because it was right in that moment that you realized that there was no way to go back to your normal routine after this; it wasn’t only because of the intimate act that you both decided to engage in, but because there was no way in hell that you would let him go on with his life without having him like that again. Your previous words became an empty promise the more his lips devoured yours, kissing and biting as if his life depended on it. The coldness of his lip ring was making you shudder and chase for more; you finally got an answer to your question: it felt amazing while kissing. On the other hand, it was messy due to the both of you being so eager to feel more of one another; saliva coating your lips while his tongue finally made an appearance inside your mouth, making you squirm and fight the urge to burst right in that moment.

“I’m so close.” You announced against his lips, panting ridiculously loud.

“You’re gonna come for me, baby?” It was so strange to hear him talk to you like that, using pet names and saying things that Jungkook would never even think of saying in any other situation. “Wanna come on my fingers, hm?”

“Yes, yes, please.” The begging and whiny voice almost made him come in his pants, but Jeon managed to maintain his composure.

“Go on, let go, baby, but keep those pretty eyes on me.” Jungkook’s free hand came up to lay right under your jaw, squeezing lightly but firmly enough to keep you in place. You didn’t have to be told twice, the moment his hand came in contact with your hot skin you felt the waves of your orgasm crash over you. “That’s it… you’re doing so good.”

Fuck, if only he could talk to you like that all the time.

“Oh my god, Jungkook!” You moaned, closing your thighs tightly, capturing his hand in between your legs. “Shit, it feels… so good.”

“I know, doll, I know.”

Not once did your eyes look away from him, not even when the tears started to spill down your face like the most beautiful raindrops, all due to the overwhelming feeling or your orgasm. You couldn’t even grasp the fact that you just came on Jungkook’s fingers, or that your body was shaking uncontrollably while his hand kept moving rather slowly, going from sliding up and down your soaked folds to rubbing your swollen clit. Even in your post-orgasmic state you recognized that one was not enough; as good as his fingers were, you needed more of him. It was more a want than a need, but you couldn’t finish the day without knowing what his cock felt like inside of you.

Craving.

That’s the best way you could describe this feeling; you were craving his body on top of yours, even under, sideways, it didn’t matter, but you had to have more, even if it was just for the night. Even if it would leave a burning memory in your brain to fantasize about in the solitude of your room, when your hands were the only solace for your lewd desires and obscene scenarios playing in your head.

And so, letting the wild side of you speak, you uttered a sentence that was bound to change the whole course of your friendship.

“Jungkook…” You called for him, getting his attention right back on your face rather than in the space in between your legs. After listening to his humming you added “I want you to fuck me.”

His hand came to a halt, fingers not moving an inch, completely frozen in place. His brown eyes were now coated with a glint of fear and uneasiness. Jungkook had been taken by surprise a lot during the day, but right there in that moment, with you eagerly waiting for his response while looking at him with perfect innocent eyes, it had to be the most unexpected thing that could have happened to him.

A deep silence fell in the room once again, with Jungkook quickly retrieving his hands from your body. It took him several minutes to come up with something to say, something that wasn’t pure stuttering and nonsense coming out of his mouth.

“I-I beg your pardon?” His feeble voice rang through your ears due to the proximity, otherwise you wouldn’t have heard him. “I don’t think you understand what you’re asking me.”

You sat up straight, turning in your place to be face to face with Jungkook. “I’m fully aware that what I’m asking of you might be too much, but I honestly can’t ignore how much I want you, Kook.” You leaned forward, straddling his hips and resting both of your hands on his shoulders. “I thought you liked this too.”

It was funny how minutes ago he was completely into you, adamant on making you come and talking with his sultry voice until you fell apart on his fingers and now he was back to his shy and reserved persona; stuttering while trying to gather his thoughts. There were two sides of Jungkook as it seems. One was simply Jungkook, the co-founder of a comic club at your local library; the boy that spent a whole night trying to recover a document you foolishly deleted the night before you had to submit it. Jungkook who always pulled you close whenever you walked near a group of guys whose eyes were glued to your legs, and the one that didn’t hesitate to go and buy you a bunch of snacks as a way of comfort when a date you were so excited to go on went terribly wrong. That was the Jungkook you knew and adored, the one that was ready to do anything for you, being at your beck and call, but that also would get upset if you interrupted him while watching his favorite show.

And then, there was Jeon Jungkook, the boy that rocked your entire world with a few touches. The boy that spoke to you in such a sensual voice with the craziest sentences that you would never imagine him uttering. The Jungkook that called you baby, doll, pretty and kissed you so passionately that you almost forgot your name. The same man that unexpectedly acted with confidence, sure of himself and what he was doing, moving his skillful fingers in and out of your cunt with an ease that left you beyond surprised. There was the side of Jungkook that you didn’t know, and that was exactly why you needed to have more of him.

“It’ll be just this time, remember? Why not go all the way out and have a little fun yourself?” You reiterated your previous promise, even though you knew it was far from being the last time having each other like this. Without thinking too much about it, you started to grind your soaked cunt on top of his crotch; hips moving slowly to rub deliciously on top of him. “So what do you say, hm?”

You could see his self-control starting to crumble the more you rubbed yourself on him. His hardening cock felt wonderful under your hot pussy, along with the rough material of his jeans, because yes, he’s the type of guy to wear jeans while being home, even if he wasn’t expecting anyone to visit him.

You were getting too lost in the sensation, in the way Jungkook was fighting against his own moans escaping his lips or his hips thrusting up into you that you were startled by the weight of his hands on your hips, stilling you in place and preventing you from moving any further.

“I say,” He began with a husky tone, “that you’re making it really difficult to be nice to you.”

Those words caused a shit-eating grin to appear on your face, and with the most seductive voice you could muster you said “I didn’t ask you to be nice to me.” Leaning in closer to his ear you added “I asked you to fuck me… as hard as you possibly can.”

A hiss abandoned his lips while Jungkook’s hands squeezed your hips deliciously tight.

“Is that what you really want, hm? For me to fuck you senseless.” One of his hands weaved through your hair, pulling you away with enough strength to get you to look right into his eyes. “Didn’t think you would be that desperate.” A mocking chuckle echoed through your four walls, bouncing on every corner and back to your warm ears.

“You clearly don’t know everything about me.” You said through gritted teeth, the harsh grip he had on your hair was hurting you in the right way, making you wetter by the second. “Please say yes… I need you so bad, baby.”

It was the first time you called him that, and Jungkook would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy listening to your sweet voice saying it. He retrieved his hand from your hair, changing his direction to rest his thumb right onto your bottom lip.

“I did promise I would help you with anything you needed, didn’t I?” A playful smirk adorned the corner of his mouth.

“That you did,” You pointed out. “And now you have to keep your promise.”

“Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want you thinking I’m not a man of my word.” Jungkook sighed. “But you have to be good, okay? You gotta be good for me.” His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, ever so slightly, making it bounce right into place after playing with it.

An electrifying rush went down your spine by the way his voice tone changed so quickly. Once again, there was no trace of his shy demeanor as it seemed to blend into this smug attitude growing slowly inside of him. A lazy smile took place on his face while his hand continued to caress your tender skin.

“You’re gonna be my good girl, hm? Do exactly as I say?”

A moan flew out of your mouth, not expecting him to say it so confidently. You nodded effusively, though, wanting nothing more than to follow whatever order he had for you.

Hot cute, he thought, admiring the way you were so eager to agree to anything he said.

“I need you to say it, Y/n. Use your words, sweetheart.”

“I’ll be good, I’ll do anything you ask me to.”

“Alright then, let’s see how much you can handle.”

taglist 🏷️: @petalsofink @goldietigers294 @ggukieshoe @jk-190811 @hanamgi @internetbelle @songbyeonkim @berryonasummerevening

if your user is in bold it means i couldn’t tag u !

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

flowers 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

Summary: y/n gets flowers for lando after every podium and win he's had in 2024.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ln x reader ִ ࣪𖤐

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ fluff ִ ࣪𖤐

masterlist ☾☼

"what's your favourite flower?"

"hm?"

"what's your favourite flower?"

"don't have one,"

"why not?"

"never got any flowers,"

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

australia p3 - daffodils [new beginnings]

the start of the season was decent, according to lando. getting his first podium of the season was good. he was proud of it, of course he was. and to celebrate with one of his closest friends on the top step was even more special.

the car was getting better, but he knew there was a lot more still left to do. his mechanics had told him, had explained to him that it's difficult, and it's all theoretical. lando understood that. it wasn't necessary that the car that would be faster in theory would work practically as well. but, lando tried his best to give as much feedback as he could.

he was sticky with champagne, and after all the media duties and celebrations, he just wanted to escape. he wanted to escape to his driver room, and call his girlfriend and maybe his mum as well.

"good race, man," one of his mechanics congratulated him as he walked to his driver's room.

"thanks, mate," lando responded, smiling, and clapping his hand against the others in a bro handshake thing.

it didn't have a name.

finally reaching his driver room, lando opened the door and stopped short.

on the table in the corner had a bouquet of flowers. flowers he had never seen before in person. flowers he hadn't ordered, and knew jon wouldn't order for him.

slowly, he walked closer to the bouquet, and picked up the card hidden in the flowers.

"for your first podium of 2024, it's a new beginning. i love you. y/n <3"

lando smiled, a bright, shining smile. he'd just received flowers. for possibly the first time ever. immediately finding his phone, he video called his girlfriend.

"hi, baby! congratulations!" she said immediately as she answered the call.

"thank you for the flowers, my love," lando said softly, still admiring the flowers.

"they're daffodils! do you like them?"

"they're absolutely beautiful,"

she smiled, and it filled lando with a warm feeling. "i'm glad,"

lando sat on the little bench, craddling the bouquet against his chest like it was the podium trophy, and the two lost themselves in conversations and laughter and love.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

china p2 - iris [hope]

his second podium of the season. lando wasn't feeling particularly confident. with himself or the car. he knew that there was still a long way to go. the car felt a little alive, but nearly not enough for winning races.

he finished almost 14 seconds behind max, and that didn't make him feel very good from the team perspective. sure, it was important points he got for the wcc, but again, not nearly enough especially with checo coming in third, five or seconds behind him.

lando hoped that he could get mclaren in top 3 again at the very least, but he was already losing hope, and the season had just begun.

trudging back to his drivers room, lando opened the door, entering and quickly shutting it behind him. he needed some time to think, some time to himself.

as he sat down on the little bench thing, he noticed something purple and fragile peeking from his packed bag. he didn't have the energy to move, really. but something about it forced him to move.

slowly unzipping the bag, he pulled out the flowers. irises. he knew these. how? he didn't know.

his face broke into a smile again. taking the card attached, he read, "p2, baby! lfg! don't lose hope. your time will come! i love you. y/n <3"

he quickly snapped a picture, and sent it to his sleeping girlfriend, thanking her, and telling her that he would call her first thing once she was awake.

a knock on the door told him that it was time to leave, to go back to the hotel to pack, before their flight. zipping his bag up again, but keeping the flowers in his hand, lando picked up his stuff, and exited the room, still delicately holding the irises.

his beautiful, hopeful irises.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

miami p1 - lilac [first love]

oh, lando wished this feeling would never go away. it was a mix of relief and feeling proud of himself.

he was sticky with champagne, but for once, he didn't care, because, fuck, he was a race winner. he was a fucking race winner.

seven years he'd been with mclaren, and five years driving. his sixth year, he'd finally won. fucking finally won a race.

he couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop laughing, he was so happy. so fucking happy. he was proud of himself, and he was so thankful for everyone who had stuck by him throughout his career, before f1 and during.

the celebrations were long, as they should be. his team was so happy for him, he'd spoken to his family on call in a few quiet moments, and he'd had max on a video call for most part of the celebration, desperately wishing he was there as well. aarav, niran, ria were there, but honestly, they weren't max. no one could ever be max.

this was also the race that his girlfriend had attended. he'd wanted her there, told her specifically to fly out because he had a good feeling in his gut.

and what a good feeling it was.

throughout the celebrations, lando kept her somewhere in his line of sight, needing to make sure that she was comfortable. someone had gotten her a bottle of champagne too, and every time the team sprayed him with it, she joined in on the fun, laughing with him and his team.

later, both of them sticky and smelling of champagne, they walked back to his driver room. his arm was across her shoulder, and hers was wrapped around his waist.

as soon as he opened the door, his eyes widened, "oh my god,"

y/n was looking at his expectantly, biting her lip to gauge his reaction. he slowly removed his arm from her shoulder as he walked in the two steps of space the room had left.

"oh my fucking god," he muttered, still taking it all in.

"do you like it?" she whispered.

the room was full of bouquets of lilacs, each one bright and blooming. there wasn't much space left in the room, but god, it looked so beautiful.

lando immediately turned around, wrapping his arms around her waist as he buried his head in her neck and picked her up. "i love it so much,"

her fingers were in his curls as she said, "they're lilacs. to remind you of your first love: racing."

lando pulled back from the hug, settling her down, "thank you so much. i love it. i love you. fuck, i love you," grabbing her face in his hands, he kissed her, long and slow, wanting to cherish the moment.

later on, when the two of them had changed, they slowly picked up all the bouquets, and lando handed out three stems to each of his mechanics and his engineers, and anyone who was in lando norris' team, and then gave two stems each to the rest of them. he gave four to zak, and the man had laughed and wrapped lando in another hug.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

emilia-romagna p2 - gladiolus [believing in yourself]

he was so close. fuck, he was so goddamn close to winning again. 0.752 seconds behind, he was so close.

he was happy for max v, of course he was. he was happy with p2 as well. there was no doubt in that. but, when p1 was so close, and lando knows he could've pushed just a little harder, it does settle a sense of disappointment in his gut.

with a p2 and a p4, it was a lot of points for mclaren, and as much as that excited lando, he was also afraid. he wasn't sure if he could really continue to keep performing so well, or as well as he wanted to. he wanted to go out and win, and he wanted to make his team proud, but fuck, was he good enough for it? would he ever be good enough for it?

his head was swimming with self-doubt, and it was slowly overshadowing his happiness of p2. it was annoying, and he was frustrated. he wanted to be happy about the podium, and the points, and all of that. he so desperately wanted to. but the questions, the what ifs just never stopped in his head.

opening the door to his driver room, he stopped. slowly he remembered. the flowers. his girlfriend. there was a bouquet of flowers he didn't know kept neatly in a vase. he assumed jon had done that.

removing his race suit, and quickly changing into fresher clothes, he picked up the bouquet, finding the note attached, "these are gladiolus. they're a reminder that you need to believe in your yourself. i love you. y/n <3"

lando laughed. how his girlfriend knew what was going on in his brain, he didn't know, but he was forever grateful that she was some sort of mind reader.

quickly snapping a picture and sending it to her, he hugged the flowers against his chest, wishing that she was there to hug him.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

canada p2 - poppy [strength]

lando walked into his driving room with his back still heavy from the intense race he had. the rain made it a battle to stay on the track; the visibility wasn't good, and the grip could be anywhere; the race felt like having a war with nature. still, he held steady enough to finish in p2, an impressive result if he said so himself.

as he shut the door, his eyes alighted on something that immediately threw a smile to his face. on the little table in the middle of the room was an exquisite bouquet of red poppies. the striking flowers stood out starkly against the antiseptic ambiance of the room, their radiant petals glowing brightly under the subdued lighting. alongside them rested a note.

lando stepped closer, picking up the card, and his heart gave a slight lurch when he saw her familiar handwriting.

"for your strength, my love. you showed it today, just like I know you always will. i'm so proud of you. you've got this, no matter what the track throws at you. i love you. y/n <3"

he let the words sink in, the weight of the race lightening for a moment as the warmth of her support surrounded him. the poppy—symbolizing strength, resilience, and overcoming adversity—was the perfect gesture for a race like this. the rain-soaked chaos of canada had tested him, yet here he was, with a podium finish in his grasp.

lando swept a hand back through his drenched hair, letting out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back into the wall. it wasn't just the soggy track, or the keen competition that had made the race so hard today—it was always the pressure; the little things that crept in with each lap. yet now, his hands wrapped about the bouquet before him, with her words going round in his head, gave him a deep quiet strength.

he placed the flowers gently on the windowsill, then took a minute to absorb the comfort in that gesture. she wasn't there, but somehow in that little room, she was. she was with him and reminded him of when he would go through some really tough days; he would know he was capable of holding it together.

the poppies, resplendent even in the rain, were the perfect symbol of how far he'd come—and how far he would still go.

"thanks, lovie," he whispered to the empty room, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he stared out the window at the distant lights of the circuit.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

spain p2 - orchids [remain positive]

p2 in spain. what a wonderful day. and he had managed to get the fastest lap. that, he liked the most for some reason.

he was desperate for another win. well, actually, no. he wasn't desperate for it. he wanted to win, yes, and he knew that he would have to be patient for it, and work on it himself.

the bottom line was, he wanted to win.

he trusted the car, and he trusted his team. he would get opportunities in the future, and he will be able to win, he knows that. somewhere in his brain, he knows that.

yet, sometimes, there's a little crack in that knowing. that little fear of the unknown, that what if he doesn't win again till next season? or the season after that?

no. no. that wasn't true. lando was a good driver. he was adapting to being in a fast car, but he was a good driver, and he would get another win soon. yes. that's what he needed to believe, that's what he needed to tell himself over and over again.

jon did a good job of reminding him of that too. he somehow always knew when lando's thoughts were beginning to spiral, and pulled him out before it happened. thank god for jon, really.

when he stepped off the podium, his trophy in hand, jon stood there with a bouquet of orchids. lando smiled instantly, despite the exhaustion.

lando handed the trophy to jon, and took the bouquet from him, as he was escorted to the conference room for the interviews.

he stared at his flowers, as the interview began.

"we wanted to start with max, but lando, you've captured our attention," ted kravitz started.

lando immediately looked up. "huh?"

"we see you've got some flowers. any idea who they're from or is it a secret admirer?"

lando laughed, "no, they're from my girlfriend. she gets me flowers for every podium i get,"

"kelly's never got me flowers," max added from beside him.

"yeah? she's got to step up her game, mate," lando joked.

"definitely, man. kelly, if you're watching this, i want flowers,"

the room laughed.

"they're orchids, aren't they?" lewis asked.

lando nodded, "yeah. my girlfriend said it's so that i remain positive because there's a lot more races to come,"

"that's sweet, man," lewis said, as he leaned back.

lando bit his lip, as he nodded. cause, yeah. that is sweet. his girlfriend is sweet.

"anything you want to say to your girlfriend, lando? while we're here," ted asked.

"um, just wanna thank her, really. i get more excited about the flowers now, than the trophy,"

the crowd laughed again, and the interviews shifted to max.

lando continued to stare at his orchids.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

silverstone p3 - periwinkle [home]

it was his home race. he wanted to do well in his home race. and he did. p3 was not bad. he was proud of himself, and a little disappointed for not winning, but he was much happier for lewis.

lewis had driven amazingly, and despite the fact that he was lando's competitor, lando couldn't help but applaud for him.

at the parc ferme, he met with his team, hugging them, and then hugged his girlfriend for a little longer. she had pressed a kiss to his helmet, and he winked at her.

max and he were talking when lewis came, and the two immediately congratulated the brit on his drive. lewis looked like he was about to cry, and lando wondered if he would ever feel like that, that emotion of winning at a home race.

after the podium celebrations, lando went for media duties, feeling sticky and in a desperate need of a shower. when he returned, he quickly found his girlfriend, giving her a little kiss, before promising her to be back in a few.

opening the door to his driver's room, he smiled at the bouquet kept beside his trophy. picking them up, he smiled at the periwinkles.

"periwinkles for your home race," y/n's voice was heard from behind him, and he turned around to see her leaning against the door frame.

he smiled, walking towards her, as he wrapped her in a loose hug, and said, "home is where you are, baby,"

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

hungary p2 - lotus [righteousness]

the team had fucked him over. the team had fucked him over so bad.

he didn't blame oscar. it wasn't oscar's fault. their strategy had been wrong, and they made a mistake. he was angry. he was angry at will for putting him in a position where either options felt wrong and right at the same time. he would never burst out on will, of course, and he knew he needed to control himself, but fuck fuck fuck, his team had fucked up.

lando reminded himself that he was the older driver now, the veteran. that meant it was upto him to make sure that oscar knew that the two of them were okay. and he did just that. he told oscar, showed him that there was no bad blood between the two of them, and lando wasn't mad at him.

he knew he was going to have to talk to andrea about the team orders later, but the exhaustion of the race was settling on his shoulders and he didn't want to do anything except go back home and cuddle with y/n.

that would fix everything.

after the celebrations, and the interviews, all lando wanted to do was go back to the hotel room and call y/n or max, and just rant. but, as soon as he walked in, a sort of disappointment added to the weight of his feelings already.

there was no bouquet. he'd gotten a podium. wasn't that the pattern that y/n was following? every time he got on the podium, she sent him flowers, right?

but, this time, there was nothing but one lone flower that wasn't even blooming. a deep hurt settled in his gut as he realised that maybe even his girlfriend was mad at him about the race and the way he responded with not giving oscar the position back immediately.

that somehow felt worse than the hate comments he'd been receiving on social media.

picking up the flower, he turned the card attached to it and read, "a lotus to represent the righteousness you showed on track. you did the right thing. i'm proud of you. would have been proud of you, regardless. i love you. y/n <3"

lando breathed a little easier. he let himself smile a little. she was proud of him. she thought he did the right thing. she was on his side.

how silly of him to think otherwise.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

netherlands p1 - amaryllis [to sparkle]

he did it. he did it again. yes, he lost the lead, but he got it back, and he created a 22 second gap, and he won. again.

finally.

he was happy, of course he was. though, what excited him more were the inevitable bouquet of flowers that would be in his drivers room. he couldn't wait to see what his girlfriend had chosen this time.

the trophy was huge, and it was heavy, but it was easily his favourite. the words written were all things he could relate to, and he was sure that every other driver could relate to it as well. it made him happy that there was someone out there, recognising the things they went through as sportsmen, or as a sportsperson.

excitedly, after the team celebrations, he ran to his drivers room, finding it full of flowers again, and he couldn't help but smile bigger than he already was.

it was just like miami, but this time, his girlfriend wasn't there with him. god, he missed her.

he video called her while he looked for the note, and just as he found it, her face filled his screen.

"lan!" she exclaimed, "you were so goddamn good! i'm so proud of you!"

"thank you, my lovie. hold on, i gotta read the card,"

"did you just get to the drivers room?"

lando nodded, as he flipped open the card.

it said, "hot damn, you were shining out there. some amaryllis for you to keep sparkling. i love you. y/n <3"

"y'know, this is my favourite part of getting on podiums now," lando said, as he pocketed the note.

"what? getting the flowers?" y/n joked.

"yes. getting the flowers from you." lando stared at her face on the screen, wishing he could kiss her in that moment.

"you're just saying that,"

"i'm really not," he settled on the floor, exhausted from the race, but he had a new found energy as he talked with his girlfriend. she was too excited to contain her reactions or yapping, and lando loved her more than anything to listen to every bit of it.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

italy p3 - lavender [calmness]

he didn't know what to feel. he was feeling a lot of things at the same time, and he didn't know which one to focus on first.

on one hand, he didn't blame oscar for wanting to prove himself to the world. he knew what it was like to enter the world of formula one with expectations on your shoulders that had no real reason being there. he knew that some of the fan comments had gotten to oscar, about how hungary was a gifted win and not earned on his own merit. he understood, really.

but that didn't mean that he was okay with the move he pulled on lando going into turn one. he had gotten way too close to lando's car, and if lando hadn't backed out even a little bit, the two would've crashed.

there was a championship fight on his shoulders, one that he didn't expect and didn't want. while he didn't want to win by his teammate letting him pass, he also did not expect his own teammate to pull a risky move like that.

the plan was a 1-2. they got a 2-3. it was a lot of points, but nearly not as much a 1-2 would have been.

really, lando would have been okay with only oscar had overtaken him. he would have been fine with that. what he wasn't okay with, was the fact that the move led to their competitor also overtaking them both.

that pissed him off a little bit.

he remained respectful in all the post race interviews, he praised his teammate, he did what was expected of him. he always did.

later, when he had a moment to himself in the drivers room, a knock interrupted him, and lando almost told the person to go away. he didn't want to deal with humans right now.

"lando? got something for you here," jon's voice rang.

sighing, lando stood up and opened the door. jon stood at the door, with a bouquet of lavenders in his hand.

"this got delivered for you. the delivery guy said that there was too much traffic on the way, so he couldn't get it on time, but here," jon gave the bouquet to lando before walking off.

lando stared at the flowers, as he closed the door and went back to his seat.

finding the folded note, it said, "lavenders for how calm you've been about it. good thing i wasn't there. i love oscar, i love you more. y/n <3"

lando smiled, and felt a little better. maybe a little more than just a little.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

singapore p1 - orange lilies [confidence]

lando was dizzy. singapore was always a difficult race physically, but it was always so fulfilling.

he led all 62 laps, created a 20 second gap. yes, he made some mistakes at a few places, but he was learning. lando was learning and he was proud of himself. he was so fucking proud of himself.

lando was thankful that max was here to watch him race. he needed that support. unfortunately, y/n couldn't be there, and as much as she tried to change her schedule to fit the race weekend, it just didn't work.

nevertheless, he'd spoken to her as soon as he got off the top step with his trophy in hand. how could he not?

later, when he found max, he laughed upon seeing his best friend. max fewtrell stood there with a bouquet of orange lilies in his hands, looking annoyed and endeared.

"mate, someone got me flowers but i have no idea who! pietra said it wasn't her!" max said, as soon as lando was close enough.

lando laughed, feeling a little bad as he was about break his best friend's heart, "max, they're not for you,"

"yes, they are! a random dude found me, asked if i was max fewtrell, and i said, yes, and he handed me this and walked off!"

"right. i love you, man, but did you see if there was a note by chance?"

max paused, before he checked the bouquet and found a folded note hidden.

lando wanted to tell him to hand it over. he didn't want anyone else to read what y/n had written for him, but he also knew that max wouldn't believe him unless he saw it with his own eyes.

"orange lilies because my god, you were so confident on track, im gonna jump you as soon as youre back. i love you. y/n." max read.

the two men paused, lando trying not to laugh as max stared at nothing for a few seconds.

and then, he pushed the bouquet against lando's chest and said, "i think these might be for you."

lando burst out laughing, as he accepted the bouquet.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

mexico p2 - yellow roses [friendship]

lando was so proud of carlos. his heart was bursting from the happiness he had for his friend.

it had been a shock at the start of the year when his friends had told him that carlos was no longer signed with ferrari. he hadn't been expecting it.

now, though, watching his friend win for what might be the last time for a while, because even though carlos fucking sainz is going to williams, their car isn't going to magically be one of the best next season. it's going to take time. but, williams now has carlos fucking sainz, so it might just happen sooner than they think.

the plan was that in the evening, the sainz family, and lando and luigi would go out for dinner, and then maybe hit a club after the older-older members of the family had gone back to the hotel.

for lando, all of them were old.

smiling wide, he stepped into his drivers room, ready to take a shower, and get ready for the evening dinner, when he saw the bouquet on the table.

yellow roses.

opening the card, it said, "for your carlando love. it might just be greater than landoy/n but i'm okay with that ;) give him a few of these from me, would you? i love you. y/n."

keeping the bouquet back carefully, he quickly got ready and removed a few of the flowers from the bouquet for carlos, before handing the actual bouquet to jon to keep at his hotel room safely.

later, carlos sent a picture to y/n, a selfie of carlos and lando, and the yellow roses between them.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

abu dhabi p1 - nasturtium [victory]

she stood near the paddock, patiently waiting for lando, with a bouquet of nasturtiums in her hands. this one, she wanted to give in person.

she had taken a chance when ordering the flowers. sure, there was a chance that mclaren wouldn't have won the constructors, and while it was a small chance, she didn't want to jinx anything accidentally.

but lando had been confident, and y/n knew that if lando was feeling confident while being under so much pressure, there was nothing that could stop him from achieving his dream today.

y/n chatted with his mum and sister, all of three of them smiling so widely. the three women recounted specific parts of the races, every thought process that was going on during the race, the adrenaline, the anxiety, everything.

when lando finally found the three of them together, he hugged his mum first, and y/n smiled. she watched the sweet interaction between them, before he moved on to his sister, who joked with him but told him how proud she was.

finally, he turned to her, smiling so wide, eyes shining, and a relief in his shoulders. she pushed the flowers towards him, and said, "they're called nasturtium. for your victory, for your team's victory."

lando accepted the flowers, smiling softly as he looked at the bouquet. he took a step towards his girlfriend, wrapping his arms around her waist, as she wrapped hers around his neck. she could feel the bouquet against her back, and the two of them just seemed to just move side to side a little.

"thank you for being here," he whispered in her ear.

"where else would i be?" she whispered back.

he pressed a kiss against her neck, before he pulled back and kissed her once. just a little peck of i love you.

smiling, she slid her hand down to his heart, and said, "you did it."

he smiled, "we did it."

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

"what are these?"

"petals,"

"i see that, lando. where are they from?"

"a petal from every flower you've gifted me this year,"

"you saved them?"

"of course."

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

fun fact: the spain gp on 2024 was on my birthday! anyways, i feel like this got a little repetitive, but like, if kando was real, i'd buy him flowers all the time! i probably have messed up somewhere with the details, but i'm too far gone to make edits. sorry 🤷‍♀️ lemme know what you think of it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

i'd love your support! https://ko-fi.com/kavi2305

[femmeroll]

older!sevika x younger!reader is currently occupying all my thoughts…(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

sevika x fem reader

cw: sfw and nsfw, age gap (everything is legal!), modern universe, fingering. if u don’t like it then don’t read it

older!sevika who has a hard time expressing her feelings for you through words. she feels awkward and out of character doting on you verbally.

she shows her love by acts of service and gifts. if she sees you eyeing up a dress while out shopping, she’ll buy it for you without a second thought. if you mention a craving for a certain meal, she’ll buy the ingredients and have it cooked for you the next day.

older!sevika watches youtube shorts at full volume everywhere. you get a little embarrassed when she plays them out loud in public, but you know she doesn’t mean to.

she also sends you like…fifteen instagram reels a day. most of the time you just heart them or send a laughing emoji.

the first time you use the crying emoji as laughing, she asks you why the video upset you.

older!sevika listens to a lot of classic rock. she’s not opposed to listening to whatever you’re into, though. she’ll listen to you ramble about your favorite artists for hours if you so chose.

a bit self indulgent…but if you’re into kpop, she’ll stay up trying to remember all the members names. you find one of those ‘guide to [insert group]’ videos on her youtube history one day.

older!sevika loves having you on her lap! whether it’s in public or private, the feeling on you perched on her lap makes her so happy. she likes showing you off.

she’ll absolutely pull you onto her lap in public if someone is flirting with you. it’s her way of saying ‘she’s mine, back the fuck off’ without actually having to say it.

older!sevika answers all of your questions. even if they have obvious answers. her favorite thing to tell you about it sports. she feels so affirmed when she gets to explain football terms to her pretty gf!!

“sevi? what’s a first down?”

“it’s the number of attempts a team has to move the ball ten yards, sweetheart. if it’s the first attempt…”

older!sevika gets so incredibly turned on by you. she’s in her forties, she’s had experience. but no one has ever got her going the way you do. a single brush of your hand against her bicep makes her want to flip you over and fuck you into next week.

sevika’s thick fingers are buried inside of your cunt. your face is nuzzled into the crook of her neck to hopefully drown out your moans and whimpers.

“my gorgeous baby girl. need to make you feel good…so perfect, and you’re all mine.”

she could do this for 10 days straight if she could. she lives to pleasure you. nothing does it for her like seeing you cum. on her fingers, on her strap, on her cunt, on her face. she doesn’t care. your pleasure is her pleasure.

older!sevika who loves her girl with all her heart, and is loyal to you until the very end of time <3

[sturnsdarling]

'Chris likes girls who don't like him back'

Late night streaming with your best friends turns to a conversation about the boys' type, and Chris gets called out

vibe check: flirty fluffy fun, 3/4 of my favourite f words

1.4k words

A/N: i had this idea literally straight away after what Matt said about Chris' type.........the idea of being Chris' best friend that he openly fancies but you're 'not interested' makes MY TOES CURL BRO LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING anyway I hope you love this. PART TWO IS HERE

love and cigs, merc

"Matt he's right there what the fuck are you doing?!" you scream down the mic, nearly throwing your controller across the room as you jolt back in your chair.

You watch as Matt gets sniped in the head from the back, laughing as he wails on this desk, making the whole stream glitch and nearly crash. Chris is laughing along with you, trying not to make it obvious that he's watching you, and not Matt.

"Matt, bro you need to fuckin' up your game, y/n/n is actually carrying us right now." Chris says as Matt picks his chair up off the floor and sits back down in a huff.

"I always carry when I come on with you boys" you smirk, looking at the tiny square of Chris on your screen.

"yeah because you're a little sweat" Matt chuckles.

The boys had been streaming everyday for over a week now and, after some convincing, they managed to get you to join in on one of their games. At first you were apprehensive, obviously, but they explained that they were trying to diversify their platform and find a more mature audience so, actually interacting with girls on the internet was their first step.

You and the boys had been friends for forever, you met them through Nick in elementary school and had basically all been inseparable ever since, you'd been in some earlier videos but the fans back then made it very difficult to just exist around them so, you took it upon yourself to only exist in their real life, not their online one.

Cut to right now, you're nearly two hours deep in fortnite trios with the boys on stream, everyone was super excited to see you when they announced that they'd be joining and, other than a couple comments that you all ignored, it was going really well.

"Matt, someone asked what our types are" Chris laughed, reading the chat.

"I'm not answering that" Matt dead panned, screwing his face up at the camera

"I can answer it for you both, for sure" you chuckle, "chat do you want me to answer it?"

"yes, yes, yes, yes, omg yes" Chris was reeling off the answers in chat, "everyone wants y/n/n to answer, Matt should we let her?" Chris asked.

Matt rolled his eyes with a smile, "g'head, y/n/n, expose us" He chuckled.

"okay, so" you said, in your best girly gossip voice, "Matt likes nerdy, reader, soft girls" you begin to explain, your train of thought is interrupted by Chris erupting into laughter.

"dude she's so right! you love a girl that looks like she's always buried in a book" Chris wails.

"what are you guys even saying?" Matt complains, the smile etched across his face giving his tone a lot less power.

"you definitely want a girl who will go on a hike with you or some shit, Matt" You say, enjoying this whole interaction a bit too much.

Chris was keeled over in laughter, loving finally being able to talk about this kind of stuff on the internet without everyone going insane.

"I dunno why you're laughing so much, Chris, you're next" Matt states, Chris shrugs in reply.

"i don't give a fuck, call me out y/n/n, gimme the best you got" Chris sits back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

"hmmmm" you say, exaggerating your thinking, "what is the famous Christopher Sturniolos type" you rub your chin, pretending to be thinking deeply.

A knowing smirk is spread wide across Chris' face as he stares at your face on his screen, tongue prodding the side of his cheek.

"I know Chris' type" Matt adds, a menacing smile on his face.

"g'head matt, you take this one" you gesture to the boy on your screen.

"Chris likes girls who don't like him back" Matts brows raise in accusation towards Chris.

You try and hide the smile forming on your face, attempting to look as focused on the game as possible as your tongue prods at your teeth. Neither of the boys say anything, both of them cheesing, Matt in a teasing and knowing kind of way and Chris more so in a 'I cant say what I wanna say' kind of way.

"damn, Matt, you just called me the fuck out" Chris shakes his head, looking to the tiny version of you on his screen.

You're still quiet, trying to fight the smile on your face and look as focused as possible, you catch Chris looking as if he's looking at you on his screen and shake your head with a chuckle.

"what you grinnin' at, kid?" Chris smirks.

You raise your brows, shaking your head with a downwards smile, "no, nothin', nothin" you say, returning your focus back to the game.

All of the viewers watched the interaction and were blowing up the chat with comments about how Chris definitely likes you, saying things like 'did you guys see that?!', and 'think they're slick look at how they're both smiling!!!!!'. Chris was reading the comments and trying to hide the red blush crawling its way onto his cheeks, Matt was relishing in the fact that Chris was so obviously nervous, and you were just trying not to react.

"Chris, dude, you better wipe that smile off your face, chat's onto you" Matt pokes the bear.

"chat ain't onto shit, Matt, shut the fuck up" Chris says, trying to be serious but unable to push his smile down.

"you know i'm right though, you do like girls who don't want you" Matt pushed on with his joke.

"Matt, shut your fuckin' mouth, dude" Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head, his smile still prevalent.

You couldn't help but laugh, still pretending to not care about the situation unfolding. In hindsight, it probably made it all the more obvious that you knew exactly what Matt was referring to.

"you're awful quiet, y/n/n, you got nothing to say on Chris' type?" Matt extends his joke over to you and your attention is immediately on him.

"nah, you hit the nail on the head, I think" you shrug, stretching back in your chair and adjusting your headset.

"oh really?" Chris replies, brows raised in accusation.

"mhm" you nod, faux innocently.

Chris kisses his teeth, nodding and trying to hide the smile on his face once again.

"yeah, chat, Matts right, I like pretty girls, who don't like me back" Chris says, subtly turning his attention to you and then back to chat.

You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning forward once more to lock into the game.

"you're ridiculous, Chris" Matt chuckles into the mic, watching you shift in your seat, trying not to blush.

The rest of the game went off without a hitch, you guys went on to win multiple times and all the viewers eventually stopped trying to get the conversation back to Chris' obvious crush on you. You played until the early hours of the morning, joking and laughing with the boys' just like old times and relishing in the fact that you were finally able to be a part of their online presence again. When it hit around three a.m you told them you had to sign off, explaining that you had to be up early for college that morning.

"guys, I gotta go, but I'll text you when I wake up" you said, pulling off your headset, and brushing your hair back with your hand.

"alright, y/n/n, thanks for helping us bury kids, its always a treat" Matt grinned at you, shooting you his token boyish smile.

"you know I live to humble kids on fort, Matt" You shrugged, putting on your best boyish persona, earning a laugh from Matt

"okay seriously, I gotta go, bye chat!" you smile, "bye boys" you go to switch off your computer but you're stopped by Chris booming voice.

"bye, beautiful" he says, a cheesy grin on his face.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as an uncontrollable smile finds your lips, "bye, Chris" you reply, switching off your computer.

The whole chat erupts with people losing their minds over Chris calling you beautiful, the boys say nothing, Matt just shakes his head, laughing at the chat as he watches Chris, grinning with pride and completely unashamed of his very obvious crush on you.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[eli0004]

Greetings!! I saw ur status that ur taking requests? Sooo may I please request nerd!armin 🙏🏻🙏🏻 I'm up for anything even if it's sfw or nsfw tbh I just wanna read something u wrote.<3 I don't really know how to ask for a request cuzz this is my first time.

Thank you ♡

You got it! I can most certainly do that! Thanks for the request ❤️❤️🫶

Nerd!Armin HCs (sfw/nsfw)

Includes: nerd!Armin x Fem!reader

Warnings: sub!armin, panty stealing, vocal sex, oral, fem!bodied reader, perv armin, sexting, smut, subtle manipulation, jealousy, breeding kink, subtle mommy kink, use of ma’am and other titles

Nerd!Armin, my love, my favorite loser 😔🫶 Eren’s childhood best friend and newest addition to your friend group. He is shy and sweet, with his lil graphic tees and flannel shirts, thick glasses low on the bridge of that perfect button nose

He looks at you like you’re the most angelic being he’s ever laid eyes on, you look at him like he’s the cutest little dork you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t know that though.

You caught on pretty quickly. He catches sight of you when he walks in and panics, fluffing his hair, checking his reflection in his phone camera, getting himself in order just to get nervous and quiet every time you say something to him.

The first time you talk it’s about a shirt he’s wearing, his favorite Anime, and crazy coincidence-you happen to have seen it. He doesn’t think you could get any more perfect.

Armin walks away from that conversation all giggly and star struck, and that’s when his two best friends realize what’s going on. They devise a plan to hook you two up and, surprise! It works!

Mikasa is happy that Armin is happy, Eren is happy that his best friend is no longer a virgin, it’s a win for everyone!

When the two of you hang out, it’s usually at home. Armin prefers your house over his, your bed is more comfortable, your tv is bigger and your snacks are better, or so he says.

Really, he’s just not prepared to have to explain thousands of dollars worth of figurines and posters and other strange paraphernalia. He wishes you could see his PC set up though, because he really likes yours.

Most of the time, date nights involve gaming and movies and anime. Occasionally you’ll go grab dinner or walk around the mall together. Armin spends ungodly amounts of money on limited edition things and you scold him for being an irresponsible spender.

Mans is way smarter than all of us though, so he knows how to budget and cut unnecessary costs to afford all the other unnecessary costs

He likes discussing video game lore, and gets extremely passionate about it. Loves conspiracy and discussing hidden meanings and implications in movies and shows and music

Like I have said in some of my other Armin hcs, he LOVES pda, in part because he just always wants to be touching you, and also because he likes having you on his arm. He never imagined he’d be with someone like you, let alone anyone at all, so he gets cocky about it.

Armin gets jealous at the drop of a hat and he’s dramatic asf. If you talk to the pizza delivery guy for too long he’ll pout and whine that you must find him more attractive.

He loves wearing your clothes, sharing clothes, etc. if you have oversized t shirts he will wear the fuck out of them, and they will go missing.

Reeeeally likes to make out, like it’s ridiculous. He’ll take hours out of his day just to lay there with you and kiss you lazily, sloppily, licking into your mouth and sucking on your lower lip and tongue.

Which brings me to nsfw 😍🌶️

This man is LOUDDD

Like obnoxiously loud

He whines and whimpers and moans, you cannot have sex with him when there are people around unless you wanna have to hear complaints about it later

Steals both T shirts AND panties, one to wear, the other to jerk off with

You know, and he knows you know. Eventually you’ll just start giving them to him willingly so he stops taking your good ones.

He loves eating 🐱 more than he loves getting head. He thinks about it constantly, remembering your smell, your taste, the way you squirm. Begs you to sit on his face every time you fuck.

Armin is insatiable. His sex drive is higher than anyone you’ve ever met, and you’ll go at it a few times just in one night.

Pretttyyyyy bedroom eyes. They get so lust blown and hazy, half lidded and his lashes are so long and delicate.

He doesn’t like to be on top because his arms and legs give out easily when it feels really good. He’s so sensitive it makes his body weak and trembly.

If he is ever on top he just lays down on you, grinding his dick into you slow and deep. Drools on your chest.

He says he doesn’t care, but he’s a total boob guy. He could bury his face in your tits and suffocate willingly and with pleasure.

When he cums, it gets all over the place. His brain floats off somewhere during sex and he doesn’t pay attention. Messy guy.

Lowkey has a breeding kink, and whines that he wants to make a baby. Afterwards he’s like “nah it was just heat of the moment….unless you want to 👀

Mommy kink, but he’s embarrassed about it, so he’ll only let it slip if you initiate that one. Calls you ma’am instead and it sounds adorable coming from him.

Big into humiliation, and he will cry when you’re mean to him but he always cums so much harder when you get him like that.

He lives for sexting, he gets really detailed and dirty behind the screen but all shy about it in person when you talk about the things he said.

Send you videos of him jerking off if you want him to, and he wants you to want him to so he’ll try and subtly get you to ask for them.

Total desperate submissive loser honestly, and it’s super cute! 🫶

[ovadzs]

unspoken

𐙚 mcs: oscar piastri x sistersbestfriend!reader

𐙚trope: childhood friends, friends older brother etc

𐙚summary: you've known oscar forever, because Hattie is your best friend, but you've never really got to know him. Until he leaves, and distance makes you leave things unspoken.

𐙚cw: brief mention of sickness, not proof read

𐙚word count: 4k (short, sorry!)

𐙚notes: hii anon!! tysm for this lovely request! hope this does it justice <3!! truly appreciate requests, because planning makes me feel so unmotivated. if anyone else has any reqs, pls drop them!!

Friendship was beautiful, to you at least. You enjoyed watching girls link arms and giggle down high streets, or people throwing their friends on their backs and sprinting through Brighton beach, howling as the sand betrayed their quick feet.

Luckily for you, you didn’t have to go far to see it.  You had your best friend, and your heart often exploded a bit when she bought you thoughtful gifts or sent you stupid videos.

You and Hattie Piastri had been inseparable since preschool, when she’d taught you how to tie your laces before a very important beanbag race. Now, way down the line, you’re staring at her as she talks about some band you’ve never listened to before.

You’re unfocused, as usual. You like that she lets you zone out, because she just wants to talk. You work. You balance.

That’s until her brother slings his arm against her shoulder and you freeze, your breath hitching.

“Hey, ‘Car.” you mumble, giving him a lazy smile, hoping your cheeks don’t betray you by flushing an awkward pink, and he grins at you.

He says your name carefully, slowly, like he always does, and you have to look away before you start stuttering. Hattie notices your change in demeanour, like she always does, but says nothing. Instead, she excuses herself, saying she wants a coke, but she’ll be back. She doesn’t offer you one, but you know she’ll come back with two anyway.

“So, I have some news.” he announces quietly, shifting closer to you, and you look up, trying not to seem too interested.

“Um, what?” you mumble, trying as hard as possible to meet his gentle eyes, but you just can’t do it.

“I’m like, going international. To race. Properly.” he explains, waiting carefully for your reaction, and you gasp quietly, regret hitting you aggressively, winding you slightly.

He’d always made you nervous. Since he’d lended you his helmet when you first came to his house, eagerly wanting to ride your new blue bike (it had a basket, and tassels. You were OBSESSED with it, truly.) with your newest friend Hattie.

You’d been about five, and he was probably seven, but he seemed so much older than you. More mature. Gentle, and caring. Like your bike safety mattered to him, and Nicole definitely hadn’t forced him to rummage through his shed to find it, a funny like ‘81’ sticker scratched on the back.

You’d asked him what it meant. He’d told you he was going to race under that number one day. You’d believed him.

That was probably the longest conversation you’d ever had with him.

You’re known for being shy, it’s on brand. But you were still adaptable, with everyone but Oscar. Staring at him intently was easy, but the second his eyes met yours? You were gone. You told Hattie once, that he made you nervous, and she’d laughed.

‘Osc? Like, my brother? He’s the only person calmer and shyer than you I’ve ever met. How can he make you nervous?” she joked, while painting her nails a neon pink on your bed. You were teens then, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her he’d been making you nervous for the last 10 years. 

And now, here it was. After another silent few years of small talk and painful greetings, he was leaving. You didn’t know his favourite colour, or favourite food, or if he even enjoyed school. You cursed yourself, and your blundering awkwardness.

“That’s amazing, wow. Well done!” you exclaim, and he beams.

“Don’t worry, I'll be around for all the holidays. Not that I’m assuming you’ll miss me, or anything.” he adds, answering your silent question, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Nah, sure I will.” you say casually, like you haven’t spent a decade watching him, without really ever saying a word.

He leaves the next weekend, and all you say is ‘bye.’

***

You’d been told that distance made the heart grow fonder (or something like that, whatever) but you’d never believed it. But now, now? You understand.

It’s much easier to think of him without him being there. That him being so far away enables you to forget how tongue-tied you are around him, how you’d stumble over the simplest of sentences. Even ‘how are you?’ used to be a challenge.

Now, he just consumed your thoughts. At first, you didn’t really watch his races, but now, each weekend, you huddled with Hattie on the couch, eyes glued to the screen. Watching that 81 trail around in circles, fingers crossed dramatically.

You’d started to text him too. ‘Good luck!’s and ‘Wow, well done.’ after each successful race weekend. It was a formality at first, then a gesture, then an attempt at friendship. To make up for all the times you hadn’t spoken to him, because it was much easier when his brown eyes weren’t searching yours.

Soon, they changed. Shifted into casual conversation. Meaningful thoughts, and references.

It got embarrassing soon, how much you thought of him. You couldn’t not think of him. You jumped at every ‘ping!’, every buzz. You even made a playlist, not that he’d ever know.

He texted you the same night you made it.

‘Nice playlist. Not my style, really. Lack of house music, very melancholy. But the music is objectively brilliant.’

You panic a bit, even though there's no way he could actually know it was about him. It was simply titled ‘unspoken’ and you’d chosen that photo of Noah in front of that fuckass white house with a wrap-around porch and blue shutters and a room overlooking the river. And the first song was conveniently ‘lover you should’ve come over’ and you really hope he’d at least listened to it on shuffle because you couldn’t handle the embarrassment-

‘Almost 100 songs, you’re really going through it.’

You hesitate, before replying.

‘I didn’t realise you had my Spotify.’

‘Didn’t realise that oscarp81 with me and my dog as the profile was me?’ comes his snarky response, and you leave him on read.

You search his account instead, finding a bunch of evidently unfinished playlists and blends with his sisters, until you find a recent one. One letter, your first initial. You don’t want to look, because it’s obviously not about you. But obviously you do anyway, and you’re surprised by what you find. One of your favourite songs, staring straight back at you.

‘Strangers in the night? Didn’t take you to be a Frank Sinatra fan.’

‘I’m not. You played it in the car once, and I liked it.’

You’re stumped on how to reply, how to explain the aching in your chest.

‘When do you come back? It’s been a while.’

‘I know, Mum’s not happy either, but I’m back next week. Can’t believe it’s been almost a year.’ he replies quickly, and you nod to no one in particular.

‘G’night, Car.’ you send quickly, before shutting your phone off and trying to fall asleep.

You’re the only one who calls him ‘Car. It’s Osc, mainly, to others. But you’d chosen Car when you were younger, as he’d been telling you all about those very same vehicles he’d been driving soon.

“You’ll be ‘Car’ in a car, eventually.” you’d giggled, and it had stuck. He was Car from then on.

***

It’s brilliant and awful and everything you’ve ever wanted and horrific when he returns, because you want to crawl and die in a hole again. But, you can’t anymore, because you truly are friends now.

“‘Car!” you call, running up to him as he knocks on the door of his own house (which you were at so regularly, you sort of fit in the place like furniture.)

You quickly fling open the door, and Hattie brushes past you, embracing him tightly and he beams at you both.

He doesn’t move to hug you, once Hattie steps away from him. You don’t move towards him either- you don’t need to. You just look at each other carefully, smiling.

“I have not missed how awkward you two are, though. Please tell me you’ve both grown out of it, blasted introverts-” mumbles Hattie, and you both laugh.

“Welcome back.” you grin, and he nods.

“Thank you.”

More heads of the Piastri family emerge from various rooms and floors and dogs bark and the house feels so much fuller and warmer now he’s back, and you do too. And it’s not an uncomfortable burning, or shyness, or anything of the sort. It’s just warm, and kind, and you let it flow carefully in your veins, unbothered if it shows on your face or not.

***

The summer break is too short and agonisingly too long for you both. That feeling of doom settles in, that each day is a day closer to his departure, but neither of you ever say anything about how you’re feeling. You just enjoy your newfound friendship, passing hours and days by each other's side.

Bike rides by the beach, wiping ice cream from the top of his nose. Dragging him to karaoke and bowling and rollerskating, stuff he had always secretly wanted to be invited to but had never asked.

You’re lounging on a bench, arms entangled casually with Hattie’s, as he speaks.

“You know, I thought you didn’t like me, like last year. Assumed she’d told you bad things.” he mumbles quietly, looking at you while gesturing to his sister, and you look at him incredulously.

“That's absurd. I just, I don't know. I didn’t not like you, or anything though.” you reply awkwardly, and Hattie elbows you aggressively.

“She’s telling the truth. She told me once, like ages ago, that you made her nervous. Can you imagine? You’re so NOT intimidating.” exclaims Hattie, and he smiles at you, like you’re something new. Something he hasn’t really noticed before.

“I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I know.”

***

Another year passes. You’re inseparable now, as he returns for summer. Hattie’s found a boyfriend, which you’re obviously not impressed by, it gives you and Oscar much better reasoning to hang out alone so frequently.

“You look different.” he comments, as you drag him to the pier, your crocs filling uncomfortably with sand.

“How so?” you ask back, and he tightens his grip on your hand.

“Um, older. More mature, taller. I don’t know. Just, different. Prettier.” he adds, and you hesitate.

“Thanks, ‘Car. You too, really. When did you get so tall?” you ask, studying him intently.

He comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you affectionately as you tumble to the ground together.

“What, you scared of me again?” he asks jokingly, and you squirm as you try to push him off you.

“Bro, get off me!!” you shriek, laughing, and he rolls beside you, so you’re both staring up at the sunset together.

There's a moment, just enough time to breathe.

“I signed with McClaren next year. Like, in Formula one.” he announces quietly. “I haven’t told anyone else yet, I just, I don’t know. I’m letting it whirl around in my head for a bit.” he admits.

You squeal instinctively. “Oh my god oh my- that’s amazing wow I’m so proud well done that’s brilliant I knew you’d do it since that day you gave me your helmet and told me you would that’s amazing you need to tell anyone why did you tell me first you idiot-” you ramble, excitement pouring from your lips, and he laughs.

“I wanted you to know. I wanted you to know first.” he clarifies, and you swallow, hard.

“Thank you for telling me.” you whisper, and he turns to face you.

“Thank you for being here. Like, you’ve never wavered. You’re the only person I’m not related to that’s been there, forever.”

“I’ll always be here.” you admit reassuringly, and you mean it. 

“Unfortunately, I won’t be. I leave again in a month, and I won’t be back until March, for the race. You’ll be there, right?” he sighs, but you nod.

“Of course.”

***

Those eight months pass painfully slowly. He got busy, and famous. He doesn’t ask about your new playlists anymore. He barely even texts you. And you miss him so deeply, but you’re equally as happy for him.

And as the day draws nearer, you are unbelievably excited to watch him do what he does best- race.

Sunday rolls around and you arrive into the garage with his entire family, your new cap angled awkwardly over your wavy hair. You feel underdressed, with cameras stuffed in your unsuspecting face. But then you see him, and his familiarity is so unbelievably comforting you have to stop yourself from running into his (much larger, not that you’re staring or anything) arms. 

Then he turns, and you see his arms are already occupied. By someone who is clearly his girlfriend, the way he’s fawning over her, and you want to throw up and cry and you don’t know why.

Because he wasn’t yours. He never had been, not even close. You’d never even tried anything, or vice versa. It had barely even crossed your mind, being with him like that. Holding his hand in a way that wasn’t guiding him, just because they could rest there. That was alien.

And here they were, slotted against each other so perfectly you have to admire it. She’s beautiful, and as much as you appreciate Oscar’s charm, he’s done pretty fucking well. 

“I promise, I would've warned you if I knew she was coming.” comes a whisper from Hattie, and you nod briskly.

“I didn't even know he had a girlfriend.”

“He won’t, for long. I don’t like her.” she mumbles angrily, and you scoff.

They come over now, and you exchange pleasantries. Hattie makes an effort not to scowl at her, and she seems unaware of the hatred radiating from your best friend's body.

“Good luck out there, ‘Car.” you smile, as he begins to walk away back into hospitality, and he beams back.

“Thank you for being here.”

“I said I would be, didn’t I?” you mutter, trying not to look into his girlfriend's electric eyes. She was so intimidating, without even trying. 

“‘Car’, huh? Cute.” you hear her mock, as they walk away, and you scrunch your nose.

“She’s so annoying. That’s why we’re only meeting her now, because we can’t say anything. Even Mum doesn’t trust her. Honestly? I’d rather it was you!” she says jokingly, but your throat catches a bit, and you cough.

She stops at the sound, pausing at the sight of your sour face.

“Oh, crap. Are you joking with me?” she groans, and you stare at her, confused.

“My brother? Seriously.” she continues, slapping her forehead dramatically, and you’re so overwhelmed with emotions that you can’t reply.

“This whole time, you weren’t shy. You just liked him, you idiot. I always left it, thinking you were just being weird.”

You stammer a bit. “No, no. I didn’t, really, I don’t-” but you can’t finish your sentence, because you’d be lying.

“I didn't realise, really, until now. Until I saw-” you start again, but you almost hurl.

Panic strikes her face. “Okay, you look like you’re about to be sick. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m gonna go home. I can’t, I don’t want to be sick here though. But I’m okay. I’ll see you later, okay?” you mutter, subtly gripping your stomach like it’s something you ate and not your heart shattering suddenly into sharp shards.

You hobble home. It’s pathetic really, how awful you feel. But you suppose it's fair enough, considering it’s been about 15 years of emotions you’ve concealed.

Unspoken.

All coming out now, seeping out through any emotional cracks he’s made in your heavy walls.

You are sick. It’s reassuring, really. Makes you feel better, like it so often does.

You then let yourself grieve, mourn, shout. Anything and everything spills out aggressively, until you feel so deflated that sleep finally placates you.

***

Days pass. Hattie doesn’t push you to come round, because he’s there. Because she’s there. Because they’re both there, together.

“Oscar asks after you,” she reports. “He wants to know why you disappeared. Why you haven’t replied to any of his messages.” comes her crackly voice, through the screen.

“What, you didn’t tell him I’m sick?”

She huffs. “Of course I did, numpty. But I’m not sure he’s convinced.”

You pause. “I’ll text him then, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow?" you ask, and she nods, before hanging up.

Just as you go to message him, telling him you’ve got some weird stomach bug, your door rings.

You see him through the window, and curse, because he sees you too. He waves up at you, and you are now obligated to talk to him.

“Hey, Oscar.” you say, as you open the door, and the lack of the nickname clearly hits him.

“Am I not ‘Car’ anymore?” he asks jokingly, but you don’t smile back. You feel terrible, because he hasn't done anything wrong. He’s allowed to like someone else, anyone else, to be with whoever he wants. 

But you want him to want you.

“Sorry, ‘Car.” you reply weakly, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing.

“Can I come in?” he asks carefully, and you hesitate. This, to you, feels like a decision. 

You decide it’s time to let it go, even though you never really had it to begin with.

“Um, I’m sick. Like, throwing up kind of sick, sorry. I wouldn’t recommend it.” you explain, and the obvious rejection is evidently painful, from his small step back.

“Right, of course. Sorry, I’ll leave you alone.” he mutters, clearly upset, and you nod, closing the door.

***

He doesn’t go back home for hours, replaying your small interaction constantly, cursing himself. He didn’t understand what he’d done wrong, how he’d lost you. When he did make it back, his girlfriend was waiting by the door, expectantly.

“Oscar, let’s go for a walk.” she says, somewhat angrily, and he blinks. He longs for your gentler voice, a voice that’s never barked at him. That never made him wonder if he’s worth anyone's time or not.

“Where were you today?” she asks quietly, and the question makes him hesitate.

“Fine, I know where you were. But you know, you stood me up. To go and see her.”

Shit. They were meant to go to lunch, just when he’d gone to check on you.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.” he admits carefully, and she sighs at him.

“Yeah, because you were too busy thinking about her. You’ve been thinking about her endlessly since she left before the race, I know it.” she accuses, sharply, and he winces, because she’s right.

“I was worried- that’s all. She’s like another sister-” he begins, but she glares at him.

“Really, Oscar? Don’t feed me that bullshit. I can see it, we all can. You like her.” she shouts, and Oscar scoffs.

“No, I really don’t. Seriously, baby, I look at her the same way I look at Hattie. They practically blur.” he jokes, but his heart isn’t in it, because he’s lying.

“I watched you interact, so briefly, and I saw it. It’s been months, of you hiding me, and me feeling like I was a replacement. A filler, for someone else. Like I was just here because I was accessible. And now I know who you’re really waiting for.” she says, suddenly quiet and painfully serious.

The night feels cold, and sharp drops of water fall on their bare arms.

“Don’t do this. I love you.” he mumbles, but as the water rains down aggressively, the distortion of each droplet makes her look a bit like you. And he actually does wish it was you he was talking to.

“No, you don’t. You’ve never said that before, you know? And now you’re just saying it because you can. Because you’re scared she actually sees you as the brother you’ve been in her life. But I’m not someone you can hide your fear behind. ‘Car’. We’re done.” she says finally, and the use of your precious fucking nickname feels like a knife straight to the gut.

And he knows that talking to you is the only way it will ever come out, as each second he spends here makes it twist slightly.

“You need to go, don’t you? Because I’m right.” she whispers, and he stares at her teary-face.

“I’m so sorry. I promise you, if I’d known, I would never have done this to you.” he explains, and she shakes her head.

“Yes, you would’ve, but it’s okay. Go.”

And he does, without thinking. He runs, sprints, ignoring the thundering sound of the rain on the pavement and how his shirt is clinging uncomfortably to his aching chest. He ignores his legs burning and his breath failing and all he can think of is you, driving him on, dragging him to the finish line, to your unsuspecting face.

And when your doorbell rings again, you assume it isn’t him. You don’t bother to check the window. You don’t question what madman is outside in weather like this, because you don’t care. Because it’s not him.

But when you open it, and it is him, you gasp.

“Whatthefuckareyoudoinghere?” you ask, all in one exhale, shocked.

“Hi.” is all he manages, panting from exhaustion.

“Did you run here?” you ask, but you don’t move. You don’t invite him in. You’re too busy just staring.

“Yeah, I did actually.” he admits sheepishly, and your mouth falls open even wider.

“Car, you’re insane. Why are you he-” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“I broke up with her.” he announces quickly, loudly, a mix of regret and insanity and pride hanging from each word.

Your face morphs suddenly into something unreadable.

“Okay, and?” you ask harshly, and he’s surprised by your tone.

“Because I didn’t love her, not really.”

“Oscar!” you say, exasperated. “Look, I’m sorry you guys broke up, but why are you here, making this my problem?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Not the way I love you.”

You stop looking angrily at him now. You stop really looking at him at all. You’re just… there.

“What?” you whisper, like you didn’t hear him.

“Well, okay, sorry. That was a lot. I just mean, that I might maybe, like, like you. Or love you, I don’t know. Pretty sure it’s love. I mean, my heart is kind of like, exploding right now. I might be having a heart attack. Can you do CPR? You seem like the kind of person who definitely can do CPR. Please save me, okay? I was about to make a weak joke about mouth-to-mouth, but you’re looking at me really funny. Are you okay? You know, if we both have heart attacks simultaneously, that’s really not ideal. Can I please go first?” he bursts into a stream of nonsense, and you laugh at him.

He follows suit, until you’re both howling, trying to find air before one of you does actually require resuscitation. 

“I’m sorry for disappearing. My heart was exploding too.” you admit quietly, and he smiles at you, completely unbothered that you’re still hiding under your porch and he’s being somewhat drowned.

“You didn’t disappear. You never have.” he replies, and the way he smiles at you makes you stop hesitating.

You run at him, giggling as you feel the cold water soak into your clothes, and he catches you carefully, spinning you around slightly as you try to steady yourself.

“I might maybe, like, like you. Or love you, I don’t know. Pretty sure it’s love.” you mumble into his ear, and you watch a grin stretch across his face.

“Well, that’s reassuring. I don’t think I’m dying anymore. Can I still make my mouth-to-mouth joke?” he laughs, and you nod.

“It better be funny, ‘Car. ‘Cause I’m kind of getting drowned out here.”

He lets you go carefully, staring at you with such precision, such desperation, like he’s trying to memorise you. Like you might melt, like sugar, and he has to commit you into his mind.

“I lied, I don’t have a joke. I’m just going to kiss you now.”

And as he does, you both say everything you never said before, without uttering a word.

Nothing and everything remains unspoken.

[thehauntedetheral]

Yan Husband x Pregnant Reader ~

Requests are open!

• You and your husband has been married for 3 years and you have a happy marriage that your life couldn't get any better

• Until one day you realise your period has been late a few weeks. You take a pregnancy test and found out you guys are gonna become parents.

• You told yan about your pregnancy and now you are the happiest couple in world. You always thought yan husband is very protective? Well get ready darling because this man is gonna get double protective and stress out about every single thing till the baby is born.

• Yan Husband who hires the most famous, experienced and expensive gynecologist in city.

• Buys every pregnancy book available and remembers every single thing mentioned in it

• Food cravings? My love he would go buy anything even at middle of night. But you wanted from that specific shop? Well then he is going to make owner open the shop and make food for you at the middle of night no in between.

• Makes the most nutritious breakfast, lunch, dinner by himself. Makes you eat fruits, homemade smoothies that even professional fitness coaches plan is colourless compared to his.

• Reads so many pregnancy articles, cases and watches video. The only thing remaining now is getting a medical degree which he thinks upon to get just in case which you have to put a stop on.

• Constantly checking your blood pressure, sugar levels, pulse that he has become personal doctor of yours.

• Going with you on walks, doing yoga together.

• Buys all the baby stuff with the most safety guarantee even if the price is ridiculous. When it comes to you and baby nothing is expensive.

• Takes leave from work or work from home throughout your pregnancy. Won't let you go out of his sight.

• Won't even let you lift a finger and you are thinking about continuing job? THAT'S JUST STRAIGHT UP NO.

• Baby proofs that whole house. Always looking up at nutritious recipes for pregnant ladies on internet.

• Buys everything that he finds adorable and spending unnecessarily very high that you have to sit him down and explain the budget but still doesn't listen.

• Wants Baby to look like you because you are the most beautiful person in this world for him.

• Attends every doctor's appointment with you like a ritual and bores doctor to death with his constant questions about your pregnancy. Don't be surprised if you find him talking to doctor and asking a question at two in night.

• Talks and kisses to your baby bump everyday and mostly talk about you to baby telling how much lucky he is to have you and how much he loves you both.

• Has multiple panick attacks through out your pregnancy just thinking about you and baby's safety.

• When your water broke and the contraction begins he is just a centimetre away from having a heart attack.

• When you are under going labour threatens doctor that if anything happens to you or the baby the doctor will become a dead body.

Requests are open!

Read more yandere fics:

[nutmegtales]

Fucking Clowns - Part 2

Barbara replayed the grainy video recording of the initial assessment of one Danny Smith. The boy had been admitted for causing a scene and then reportedly being detached from reality, and a potential risk to himself.

As per their newer procedures the cops had brought him to the lower security section of the Arkham facility for observation. At least 24 hours to let the body cycle through whatever drug might have triggered a psychosis. Arkham was well equipped for this kind of cool off period now, and they weren't unaccustomed to being flooded with fear toxin patients or other mass victims.

After those 24 hours though with no sign of improvement or other casualties displaying similar symptoms he was brought through to the initial assessment.

To say it had not gone well was an understatement. Babs hit pause on the moment when the doctor had begun to explain the situation: where Danny was, that he would go through a number of tests for his health, that he might have to stay for a while, and they may trial some medication for him. The frozen image was grainy but she could still see the look of absolute terror on the kids face.

She fast forwards through the outburst, as the kid refuses to be a lab rat, as he shoves out of the chair and goes to storm off before stopping in mid path, like someone was blocking his way. As he turned around again and was seemingly stopped again. And again. And again. As he shouted at the air to leave him alone, to let him go. As he rounded on the psych screaming that he would not take anything, no pills, no needles, that no one could make him. That he wasn't a lab rat over and over and over.

She hit play again once she reached the point they'd calmed him down and walked him through his options. They were going over why the kid thought he was here "Because I died" he said it so matter of factly, she could believe him. He said it the same way Jason did, in the tone of a 'fuck you'. But that didn't mean it was true.

"Because the ghosts want me here" another point in favour of psychosis.

"Because Batman wouldn't kill the Fucking Joker". It had been a quiet admission, almost too quiet for the recording equipment to pick up. Babs rewound and replayed that moment another few times, checking over the notes but not able to find a reference to it. She watched further on in the recording as the psych asked what Danny had just said, but the boy refused to repeat it.

Babs knew though, she was pretty certain she was not mistaken in what she heard.

She clicked open some of the more recent notes the nurses made. And yeah, her heart sank a little as she read there were quite a few mentions of Batman's name screamed in accusations, and a few little notes about oddities here and there. Cold spots, times where the kid had caught something that someone his size shouldn't have been able to lift. Times where he had items there was no explanation for him having. She'd gone over the rest of the recordings but hadn't found anything concrete herself.

She opened up a file of her own titled Potential Future Rogues, and added the name Danny Smith to the list with a check against Grudge and a question mark against Meta. That's all she'd do for now, without anything more solid or a real name to go on there was no point bringing this to anyone else's attention yet.

She sighed to herself and rubbed her eyes. It had already been a long night, and she was only part way through her long list of preventative procedures she'd made for herself. This might end up being nothing, but she'd still rather have a leg up on the situation if it ever does become an issue. This and the million other potential problems.

'Ah Babs', she thought to herself 'you really like to make work for yourself don't you.'

---

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[pedgito]

ORBIT YOU ⋆⭒˚.⋆ CHAPTER TWO: SUN

↝ series masterlist | joel miller masterlist | full masterlist

summary — your relationship with joel only becomes more skewed over the course of your time back at college before summer break, spending most of the time communicating with him through a screen.

author's note — it's here! i don't have much to say other than if you read and enjoyed the first chapter, i'm glad you're back!!

content warning — 18+ MDNI, dbf!joel, virgin!reader, age gap (20s/40s), terms of endearment (kiddo, sweetheart), phone calls, old man!joel trying to figure out technology, video calls, mutual masturbation over facetime, dom!joel, edging, orgasm denial, teasing, some attention seeking behavior, handyman!joel, teasing the shit out of this man

word count — 8k

It took a month for you to cave and call Joel.

You had tried to put on a front, like…really tried.

But, something about him calmed you.

It started with texts.

Joel

Some idiot took a staple gun to his hand.

How’s the astro whatever going?

You

AstroPHYSICS.

Linear Algebra is kicking my ass.

Joel

Damn that sucks.

The wording of it is plain and obviously, monotone, but you know he means it.

He checks in on his own occasionally, not bothering to text back when he sees you’ve read it, only really needing a sign of life, but then boredom strikes and you call him one night.

But, you have a totally legit and valid reason.

There’s no greeting or pause, the moment you hear him pick up, the words spill out.

“So hypothetically, if someone was to…I don’t know, break a handle off from the inside, how fucked are they?” you ask, staring at the broken mechanism in your hand with your towel tucked tight around your body and still dripping wet from your shower.

You can hear a spoon clinking against ceramic on the other end, the beep of a machine in the background, “Depends, are they talkin’ to me right now?”

You glance at the time on your phone, nearing ten o’clock at night, “Are you drinking coffee this late?”

“Yup,” he answers easily, slurping for emphasis, “didja break your doorknob?”

“Yes,” you reply distantly, like you’ve placed your phone away from you.

You had, Joel realizes after a while, hearing some clambering and a curse on the other end.

“Joel, I’m fucking stuck and my roommate isn’t home. I’m going to die in this shitty bathroom and all I have on is a towel, oh god…I think I’m having a panic attack,” you begin to ramble, dropping the broken half of the doorknob in a panic as you reach for your phone and drop to the floor, sinking against the cool wall of the tub.

“Sweetheart, you could always hang up and call the fire department,” Joel offers, “I’m sure they deal with shit like this all the time.

“Joel, I’m practically naked—and it’s embarrassing.”

“Worse is you dyin’ and they find you in just a towel,” Joel offers lightly and you can’t help but laugh at his dry attempt at humoring you despite your worry, “listen, can you fit it back into the hole? Sometimes it’s just because of a loose screw, if you can get the mechanism to connect long enough to turn the lock back, you’ll be alright,”

“How do I do that?” you ask candidly, slowly reaching for the doorknob as you rise to your knees and move toward the door again, carefully placing your phone against the door and putting Joel on speakerphone, “do I just—”

There’s a long silence and Joel hears what he thinks is you working away at making your escape, but it is eventually followed by a yelp and Joel nearly jumps from his seat on his couch like it would do anything.

He’s shouting your name on the other end for a solid minute before you finally answer.

“Christ, kid,” he exclaims, “what’s goin’ on?”

“Oh, my roommate showed up—I’m fine now,” you explain, “door is still definitely broken, though. I’m sorry for botherin’ you, I was freaking out a little,”

“Hey, nothin’ wrong with that,” Joel comforts you, “you gonna be alright, kiddo?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you assure him, “uh—goodnight?”

Joel chuckles, slurping loudly at his coffee, “Goodnight.”

After a couple months, those calls turn into more.

You’re working through your term paper when Joel’s name flashes in the corner of your laptop screen.

It was a video call. 

That was strange.

You were barely dressed, a shirt hanging low enough beyond your waist that it covers the underwear and lack of shorts you had on, a blanket draped loosely over your shoulders.

You answered it anyway.

“She ain’t gonna answer, Tommy,” Joel speaks to his brother, presumably out of  frame, “kid’s after a hell of a major at college, she ain’t got time to chat with you like that,”

“Joel,” you interject amusedly, “Hi,”

“There she is!” Tommy has never lacked in warm greetings, his smile showing bright under his thick mustache, clamping his hands over his brother’s shoulders as he leans down and into frame, “Hey, sugar, how’ve you been?”

You subconsciously pull the blanket tighter over your shoulders and lean into frame, “I’m surviving—college sucks, ya know?”

“Uh, I don’t, but, I’ll take your word for it,” Tommy chuckles, “Joel’s over here braggin’ about you bein’ a genius, like we didn’t already know that.”

Joel rolls his eyes, chewing absentmindedly at the tip of his thumb to hide the flash of embarrassment that he had been bragging about you to his brother.

“S’nice seein’ you, kiddo,” Tommy says fondly, “You’ll have to come visit us in the summer, miss havin’ you around. It’s been too long,”

“I’ll try,” you half-promise, eyeing Joel with a creeping suspicion as his head tilts up to look at his brother as he waves at you, suddenly standing and disappearing from frame to walk Tommy out, at least, that was what you assumed.

When he returns, his fingers peek into frame first and his body follows, sinking into the dining room chair with a silent look of apology, “He’s been buggin’ to see ya,” Joel explains away.

“Uh huh,” you reply as you opened up another window on your laptop to begin typing in your notes from an earlier class, “surprised you know how to work that thing,”

“I don’t,” he admits, “Sarah had to walk me through it over the phone before I called you,”

“Old man can’t figure out technology,” you tease, “I’m shocked,”

Your hand presses against your chest with a sneaking smile before you continue to type swiftly, the clacking of the keyboard audible to Joel as he leans forward again, squinting, and you catch him in the corner of your screen, laughing softly.

“You need glasses,” Joel knows it, you know it—still, he waved you off.

“Alright, we’re done here,” he says abruptly, having heard a billion and one lectures about his eyesight, “goodnight, kiddo—m’sorry if I fucked up your studying,”

“All good,” you tell him honestly, “I’ll just go and die of boredom now.”

It was a slippery path to more, neither of you expecting it initially.

Joel was practiced in keeping you at a distance without completely losing you, despite what had transpired on the camping trip a couple months prior, almost like a fever dream when your mind slipped there now.

He’s fit you into his routine—Sarah, Ellie, then you. 

But, of course, you push it as far as he’ll let you.

You

Can I call you? I had a test to study for and I’m falling asleep.

Joel sends a thumbs up, which makes you huff out a weak laugh.

You’re in a similar attire to the last time he called, but the blanket was balled up at the end of your bed and your room was empty for the night—most students were out partying on a Friday night, but you were burying your head in study about Quantum Mechanics. 

Admittedly, Joel had saddled himself for his own source of entertainment for the night—or well, release. The ding of your message had startled him slightly, palm rubbing over his slowly swelling cock as he scrolled through his favorite site, mumbling out a faint “Shit,” as your name appeared and hastily deciding to respond, not much critical thinking on his end.

“You’re my accountability for the night,” you tell him immediately, your face pulling up on the screen of his laptop as he clicks on the green ANSWER button, “alright?”

“Hello to you too,” Joel responds, catching a glimpse of his knee where he’s planted it up on his recliner, his elbow resting into the arm of the chair as he looks at you, face turned down as you flipped through a hefty pile of notes.

“Sorry, hi,” you correct yourself, offering a shy smile that Joel knows wasn’t that shy, “usually my roommate has music blaring and it keeps me awake but it’s too quiet, were you busy?”

Joel clears his throat, his erection not flagging in the slightest—shamefully, it had only gotten worse as he glanced at your breasts that were spilling out of the thin tank top, your bare nipples poking through the fabric and leaving very little to imagination.

“I’ll be alright,” Joel decides on, reaching for the remote to turn on his television, settling into a comfortable silence with you, “what’re you studyin’ tonight?”

“Quantum Mechanics,” you reply simply and Joel’s eyebrows raises in question, not prepared for the spillage of information on that topic, you look up at the exact moment he makes a face and giggle, “I’ll save your ears, don’t worry—so…you were busy?”

“You’re doin’ a lot of talking for someone who should be workin’,” Joel reprimands and the way your body reacts isn’t a surprise at all—maybe this was a bad choice.

“Quiet as a mouse,” you promise, shaking out your drying pen as you scribble it on the paper but it does nothing, without thinking, you stand, snug underwear on full display.

These are brightly colored and nearly see-through, hugging tight at your hips as Joel stares, entranced, at the curve of your ass and how perfectly it sits in frame as you lean around your desk to reach for a new pen, not even realizing what you had done until after sitting back down.

His eyes are wide before he can fix his face, “I—sorry, I’m rarely dressed when I’m in my room. I didn’t even think—” Joel hates how quickly his cock rises to full attention, adjusting himself further down the frame, and he makes a dismissive noise as his face morphs into a scowl, his default setting.

It hadn’t been intentional, but you’ve begun to notice something about Joel.

You spotted it back at camp, the night at the picnic table, and even now. 

His gaze drifts, even without trying. He’s forcing himself to look at your face, the green light shining beside his camera, anywhere but the sight of your tits on his screen, but his self-control was severely lacking around you as of late.

And, you weren’t focusing that well, anyways. 

You fake it, scribbling down some mindless nonsense in place of what should be your notes before you fake your pen drying out again and Joel had started to scroll quietly through his phone when he sees the shift on screen, but instead of turning out of frame you’re standing dead center, leaning over to reach the back of your desk.

He can see a sliver of your stomach where your shirt has raised, thighs pressing into the edge of the desk, where your panties tuck against your inner thighs, the outline of your pussy staring him down through the fuzzy camera lens and Joel jerks so hard at the sight that his camera shakes, biting away the silent laughter that fills your chest as he curses under his breath.

“Sorry, shitty pens,” you excuse lamely, returning to your seat, “what’s keepin’ you busy?”

“Answerin’ emails,” he lies, “tryin’ to get the contract for this next job figured out,”

Because, no, he hadn’t been scrolling through a list of videos to find something to interest him, subconsciously searching for anything that reminded him of you or resembled you, frustrated with how prevalent you had been on his mind since the camping trip but too pathetic to admit it to himself. 

Avoidance was always the easier route.

“Riveting,” you smile kindly and survey him from across the screen, feigning a chill as you turn in your chair to spot the blanket on your bed, but Joel’s words come first.

“You’ve gotta stop gettin’ up, kiddo,” Joel pleads, face turned down but his eyes fixated on you.

You tilt your head and smile devilishly, but instead of getting up, you push your chair back to reach for the blanket—somehow, it was worse for Joel this way.

He watches you curled up in your chair, clearly enjoying that effect you had on him even from miles away, every inch of skin on display save for the few clothes you had on and it brings him back to the tent, flashes of your blissed out expression as you had listened to him so easily, bent yourself to fulfill his fucked up obsession with control over you in that moment.

The difference now is that you had the upper hand, knowing he’d never step out of place on his own, but with enough torture, Joel would inevitably break.

“He invited me out for drinks this weekend,” Joel says suddenly, desperate to distract himself, clicking his phone shut and shifting his gaze to his hands, still placed over his aching cock but unmoving, almost like punishment for viewing you this way.

You shrug the blanket around your shoulders and snap your textbook shut, trading it out for another place out of view, “You haven’t spoken to him since, have you?”

His non-answer is obvious, glazing sideways toward the front of his house in the exact direction of your childhood home and you shake your head with a dismissive smirk.

“You think he’ll take one look at you and know?” you inquire and Joel shifts back to you, eyes narrow slightly, and you add salt to the wound by mimicking him, “Sorry, I’m gonna have to skip out on drinks. I fucked around with your daughter and now I’m feelin’ guilty about it.”

“It ain’t guilt,” Joel argues.

“Isn’t it?” you challenge, “s’all well and good until you gotta face reality, right?”

You sigh deeply and snap the textbook shut, stack your papers neatly before you push them aside, “I interrupted you, didn’t I?” you ask him, glancing up at the picture frame placed behind Joel that showed the glare of the screen, the small rectangle that housed your face in the corner but the browser open and brandished with a popular adult site, slowly, you grin, “How do I compare?”

You’re being coy and it was fraying every nerve that Joel had left with you.

“See,” you begin, “the thing about technology like this—we’re miles away, but somehow it still feels like you’re right here with me,” Joel’s dick twitches at the sound of your voice, watching you lean back in your chair, the blanket falling from your shoulders, “but, it just isn’t enough.”

“We’re not doin’ this again,” Joel forces out, voice gruff and hard.

Still, his hand presses down against his cock to soothe the growing ache.

“Then hang up,” you say dismissively, pulling your straps down your shoulders, his eyes stuck like glue to the screen despite his words, “no?”

Joel shakes his head and you laugh softly at him, nodding in understanding.

“I wish I was there,” you tell him, voice softer, “wish you were here—” your fingers pull at the fabric of your top until your breasts spill out, hands cupping them together and squeezing, “and here,” your eye him, half-lidded, watching the subtle but visible movement of his hand as his laptop had readjusted purely by accident, working himself over with a rough squeeze through his pants.

Joel feels his throat swell, like he’s committing the ultimate sin. 

Seeing you like this is different, vulnerable, baring yourself before him without an ounce of hesitation—only for him, not out of defiance or an itch to prove a point.

You’re needy, wanting, and he can see it in the way your mouth parts with a sharp breath as your fingers drag slowly over your nipples, trading one hand to trail further down your chest and out of frame, “mostly here, though,” he can’t see it, but your hands dip under the fabric of your panties, fingers spreading through the wetness that had gathered there, just from looking at him, knowing the effect you were having on him, “is that where you wanna be?”

Joel nods despite his mind searching for a reason to stall this from happening, palming his cock more noticeably through his sweats, and instead, he blames you, “This is all your fault,” he grits out, but you know he isn’t talking about the depravity at hand, rather the sizable bulge, then he was shifting his hand under the waistband of his pants to grab at his cock, knowing that first touch would seal his fate.

You two were already well-invested in the situation at hand, there was no end in sight.

“Is it?” you ask curiously, gasping as you dip two of your fingers inside of you and curl, squeezing tightly at your breast.

“Fuck,” he murmured under his breath, hand working vigorously now under the fabric as he leaned adjusted his laptop to the arm of the chair more securely, sweetening the angle as his face strains out of frame but it gives you the perfect view of his heaving chest under his shirt, the thumb of his free hand curling over the waistband of his pants, giving you an enticing view of the trail of hair that led down to the base of his cock, desperate to taste him, “You can’t keep doin’ this to me.”

His gaze is locked onto the screen, pupils blown wide with a mix of desire and desperation as he watches you explore yourself, though all you can catch is the way his mouth hangs open, hastily shoving his shirt up.

“Let me see,” you beg, needy, “fuck—I miss it, miss you.”

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he mutters under his breath, and you can see him shifting in his chair as if contemplating his next move. “You’re pushin’ me.”

Regardless, he listens.

He shifts the material down his legs with a sharp, messy tug until he can kick the clothing away, his cock at center frame and painfully hard, balls drawn tight as he fists his cock swiftly, tugging alongside your breathy moans.

Normally, you’d drag this out and make use of the expensive toys you’ve kept so near and dear, but Joel was beyond worked up, teetering the line of busting his load, and you were impatient.

“Go on,” Joel encourages with a grunt, “since you’ve been teasin’ me all night,”

You reach forwardly quickly and angle your screen down slightly, still keeping yourself in frame but remove your panties, tantalizingly slow as you spread your legs apart, your fingers driving down the center of your folds as you circle your fingers through the copious slick that had grown in such a short amount of time, the glint of it visible even with the shitty laptop camera.

Joel chokes on a breath, dragging his thumb over the head of his cock and around, circling the sensitive tip as he traded glances between you and his throbbing length, "Show me how much you miss this," Joel breathes, his voice straining with every syllable.

Your fingers move expertly, teasing and exploring yourself with a sense of urgency. The heat between your bodies grows palpable, words exchanged through lust-laden breaths alone, your fingers circling over your clit desperately.

His hand works faster, the slick sounds of his arousal mixing with the echo of your moans.

You can see him struggling to keep his eyes on you, but every flick of your fingers sends him closer to the edge. Your body arches away from the chair, the soft glow from your screen highlighting every curve as you give in to the heat that was coiling in your gut, breathing heavily.

“I wish you would just touch me,” you say breathlessly, “— jus’ take care of me like you always have,”

Joel’s hands tighten around himself at the thought of you—how soft you would feel wrapped around him, how perfectly you’d fit with him, “You’re killin’ me,” he grits out, “you’re fuckin’ kill me—”

“You could be here, Joel,” you whimper, voice thick with desire. “I could be there with you. We could take our time…”

“Sweetheart,” it was warning, watching his fist work furiously around his cock, open-mouthed and strung out groans as he rocker his hips up into his grip, “I’m with ya, I’m right here—”

“S’not good enough,” you say truthfully, body shuddering as your orgasm was clawing at the edge of your sanity, “I wanna feel you so bad, want you to–fuck me—”

“C’mon sweetheart,” He groans, “make yourself come while I watch,”

You let out a whimper at his words, feeling the weight of his gaze on you despite only half of his face being visible. You lean back in your chair, spreading your legs wider, giving him a full view of your glistening core as you press two fingers deeper inside alongside your fingers that work over your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Just like that,” he urges, his voice low, “Let me see how much you want it.”

You nod, breathless, feeling the pressure building within you like a coiled spring ready to pop, “Come with me,” you murmur between gasps, the distinct sound of skin sliding against skin echoing through the call, “please…please…”

Joel spills over his fist with a noisy grunt as you come, letting out a muffled cry through your palm as you hand clasps over your mouth, watching his cum spray against his stomach and drip over his fist, his breathing slowing as the moment passes.

He grimaces at the mess and you giggle, easing your shaky legs down to retrieve your underwear, leaning in close to the screen as he adjusts until his face is back in view, your tongue dragging against your bottom lip as you look at him, full seriousness, “I bet you wish I was there to clean up the mess now, huh?”

He shoots you a glare, though his scowl is visibly softer.

He cleans up hastily, watching you organize your things away quietly, collected, like you hadn’t just come apart from the sound of his voice and his leaking cock and Joel has the sense that this was always the plan, like you were always one step ahead of him, even when he wasn’t planning.

“Did you actually need to study?” Joel asks after a beat, “Or am I that gullible?”

“I found that experience…very knowledgeable, actually,” you joke, adjusting your shirt back into place and never amiss to the way Joel eyes your breasts hungrily.

Joel chuckles, the sound deep and throaty, raw, “A hell of a way to kill time on a Friday night,”

You nod knowingly, “Goodnight, I guess?”

Joel snorts out another quiet chuckle and nods, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

–

If only it had remained that easy.

Joel goes radio silent soon after—maybe busy, maybe torn up from the guilt that always seemed to creep back in after talking to you lately, but it worried you.

That, and, Joel listened.

He listened when no one else really did.

When you ace your semester final, there’s no one to tell.

Your father never answered his phone, a voicemail box full that he refused to empty, and a devastatingly lackluster response when you were able to reach him for something. Only when you were in town did his effort feel genuine, but even then, it was sparse.

It was little things—small things that seemed unimportant to others but that you knew Joel would treat as if they were bigger than life, a warm feeling you never felt with anyone but him.

Tommy, too—but with Joel, it was substantially different.

And when you get desperate, you get reckless.

You weren’t sure how he was going to react, but you snapped the picture anyway.

You had your breasts spilling over the edge of the lacy bra, hand resting on your hip as you framed yourself in the mirror, cutting off just at the tip of your hips and the way your finger hooked into the fabric.

It takes you too long, going back and forth over this being a terrible idea or a genius one, momentarily scrolling over your father’s name with worry, knowing that even with his lack of caring, he’d still send a message after a length of time, even if it was one-word. 

Then you scroll to Joel’s name, scrolling through the various back and forth calls that had taken place over the span of a month or two, feeling a sinking in your gut that pulls the courage away.

It doesn’t return until later that night, conflicting thoughts in your head as you lay half awake and scrolling through your phone again that you find the brevity, swiftly scrolling through your contacts with blurry eyes to send the photo before you second guess yourself.

You succumb to sleep quickly after, avoiding the anxiety that creeps into your chest but returns the moment your eyes open, checking your phone with not a notification or response back in sight, half-tempted to drive back to Austin in search of answers.

But, on a whim, you scroll, checking through your messages and finding your father at the top, figuring that it should be Joel, but it wasn’t—then, it dawns on you.

“Oh, fuck,” you curse, quickly opening the message to exactly what you’re suspecting as the realization washes over, the scandalous picture on full display and SENT under your father’s contact name.

You scramble, rising to your knees in bed as you panicked to text Joel a simple 911 and pray that he picked up—fortunately, he does.

You try to stifle the anger that boils to the surface at how easily he answers after radio silence for so long.

“I’m going to ignore that you’ve been ignoring me,” you interject quickly before he can speak, “but please tell me you’re home or at least close to home,”

“I broke my phone a couple weekends ago, I’ve been waiting for the new one to come in,” Joel explains passively, but he hears the panic in your voice, “why—what’s goin’ on?”

“Are you home?” you ask again.

“I’m walkin’ out my front door,” Joel begins, hearing the door click shut.

“I need you to get my dad’s phone,” you explain vaguely.

“Alright,” he sounds unconvinced, answering slowly, “and why is that?”

“I sent him something by accident,” you rush out, heart racing as panic rises in your throat.

“Wait, what? What did you send?” Joel asks, the concern in his voice palpable. 

You can hear him moving quickly down the steps, the sound of his boots hitting the pavement echoing in your ear and you send the photo over without any preamble or explanation, hearing his keys fall to the pavement.

“It was supposed to go to you,” you admit, feeling heat in your cheeks despite the distance between you, already suspecting the frozen look on his face, “I wanted you to answer me.”

“Kiddo, I’ve just been busy,”

“It’s been a month, you said you’ve been trying to get a new phone for a couple weeks,”

“We’re really arguin’ about this right now?” Joel asks, already heading toward your father’s house across the street, hastily coming up with a plan in his head, “You can’t do this shit.”

He leaves you on the phone as he shoves you in his back pocket, coming up with a bullshit excuse as he asks your dad for his phone, hearing how it had been dead all morning and hadn’t had a chance to check his text from you, specifically, hearing the uptick in Joel’s tone as he urges him to hand the phone over.

You can vaguely hear something about Joel needing to add his new number, even though it clearly hadn’t changed at all, your dad reciting his code as Joel attempts to make idle conversation to distract your father, assuming he’d accomplished what he came to do, you hear the brief goodbye and then loud shuffling in your ear.

“....what happened?”

“I took care of it,” Joel tells you, before swiftly switching gears, “do you have classes today?”

“No,” you answer hesitantly, “why?”

“I’ll be there in a couple hours,” You’re not sure why the admission makes you panic.

“Joel—”

“That was real fuckin’ stupid, you know?” Joel starts,

“What? Are you gonna rush down here to punish me over it?” You retort, a tinge of frustration in your tone.

“Is that what you need?” Joel counters.

There’s a heaviness to the silence that neither of you address.

“Just be ready,” Joel says with finality.

–

“I was ignoring you.”

He’d taken you to a diner further into town, wordless upon arrival, his hands tight on the steering wheel. The moment you two receive your food, he speaks, despite how you had been staring him down the entire ride there and while you waited for your meal.

“No shit,” your laugh is hollow, arms crossed over your chest, “you remember how I gave you an out and you still said no?”

The guilt is evident, flashing across his face as he eats, pointing toward your own to urge you to do the same, halfway through the meal he wipes his mouth and continues.

“It was a couple weeks, but I couldn’t stop fuckin’ thinking about it,” not you—it, whatever had been transpiring between you two, “I’m tryin’ to hold a damn meeting over zoom about scheduling and all I can think about is how you sound,”

“Then why ignore me?” you press him, “Why?”

“Because I should care about you the same way I care about my girls,” Joel admits, twisting idly at the watch on his wrist, arms settling against the table, “I do—but you’re not…mine,”

“What does that even mean?” you ask, increasingly irritated.

“I don’t want you thinkin’ you owe any of this to me. You ain’t my daughter and I never tried to be your father, we’ll never be that,” Joel explains and while he had filled a void that was lacking, you could recognize the difference, “but me and you, doin’ all that—I mean look at you, sending that shit to him, even accidentally—”

You weren’t thinking, only acting on desire that wasn’t even fully returned.

It was your turn to sit in silence, looking briefly out the window to the passing cars.

“The other two weeks weren’t that—I dropped it on site during my break and it got ran over, tore it to shreds. I had to replace it. You’re fuckin’ lucky I picked up, saved your ass…”

“So, what was your plan here?” you ask, impatient, “Lecture me? Discipline me?”

“Neither,” Joel decides, throwing a dirtied napkin on his empty plate before he nods to leave, placing a wad of cash onto the table to pay for the ticket.

–

Joel was unsettlingly silent, still tense from the meal you had shared, but he keeps making turns and you’re becoming more and more annoyed as time drags on.

“Don’t think I forgot about your birthday,” Joel quips, turning down a darker road with no street lights, leading to a building shrouded with darkness and surrounded by a thick, metal gate, “I’ve been tryin’ to find the right time to bring you out here, been buildin’ it for the past six months and Ellie thought you’d like it, mighta…brought it up to her,”

It’s giving you emotional whiplash the way he slides back into the comforting man he always has been in your life, physical and mental feelings aside, he’s always been good at it.

The concern is etched on your face as you squint to see through the darkness, wondering how many laws you were breaking as you passed the NO TRESPASSING sign, quickly snapping your head over to look at Joel.

“I’m headin’ the project, ain’t nothin’ for you to worry about,” Joel soothes, “now you ain’t gotta forgive me and you can go back to hatin’ me after this—”

“Easy,” you reply quickly, feeling the car pull to a stop as Joel cuts the engine and removes the keys, “you know—my birthday isn’t for another few weeks, so you’re a little early,”

Nitpicky, but you had nothing else to bite at him with.

Joel grins and beckons you out of the truck, shoving his key into the lock on the gate as you approach close by, snaking under his arm as he raises it to pry the gate apart, following in close behind.

“Lately we’ve been stickin’ to residentials but,” the door opens, hefty and solid metal as Joel urges you inside, “ain’t never built an observatory before, first time for everything ya know?”

Your eyes widen at the sheer size of the inside, the roof expanding high above your head to accommodate the large telescope that sat in the center of the room. The walls were adorned with intricate diagrams of celestial bodies, constellations mapped out with careful precision, and the ambient light was soft but inviting, casting a gentle glow over the room. 

It felt like stepping into a sanctuary dedicated to the stars and space.

“Wow,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper, taking in the sight of the observatory with an honest, authentic surprise before you pause, peering at Joel with a slight hint of worry, “—this is…breaking at least a few rules, isn’t it?”

Joel nods admittedly.

You walk around aimlessly, admiring the craftsmanship before your fingers trail along the lens of the telescope, dancing around the question without asking.

“All yours,” Joel tells you.

“Did you like it?” you ask suddenly, squinting to peer through the open slat of the ceiling and into the sky, astounded by the detail it shown, frozen for a stretch of time before Joel makes a noise, something between a huff and laugh, looking back over to find his hands settled against his hips, eyes squinting as if he’s searching his mind for the right answer to your question.

“Don’t lie,” you tell him, “I just…thought that you would like it. I’ve never taken one before, for anyone…”

“Look,” Joel starts, his tone growing serious as he moves closer to you, “I don’t think you need me to answer because you already know—you just wanna hear me say it,”

Damn, he was good.

You turn slowly on your heels to meet his approach, arms crossing tightly over his chest to close himself off to you, but you only step closer.

“Then say it,” you challenge him smugly, watching him swallow quietly under your gaze.

“We’re not—”

“Oh, save it,” you interrupt in a snarky tone, “I know the moment you get home you’re gonna jerk off to it and then try to pretend you’re better than all this,”

“It ain’t that,” Joel says defensively, “when the fuck are you gonna understand that?”

“Pull it up,” you demand him, nodding your chin toward the phone buried in his pocket.

Joel sets his jaw and yanks his phone from his pocket, realizing that his phone was still open to the exact photo you had sent him earlier, eyes lingering on the photo before you press a finger against his chest, “It would kill you, you know, to admit that you might want me,”

You casually lean over to click on the message, promptly deleting it.

“Is that all you’re worried about?” Joel asks, “You’re reckless, you don’t think about the consequences of shit like this? If your daddy had seen that photo—”

“Take me back to my dorm.”

“What?”

“Where do you draw the line, Joel? Is it only the thought of fucking me that repulses you? Oh, but telling me how to get myself off isn’t off the table, letting me jerk you off in the middle of the night and lick up your cum, that’s fine, right?”

His jaw clenches at your words, the tension thick in the air between you two. 

You can see the struggle in his eyes as he fights against the pull towards you, his mind racing with conflicting feelings and thoughts.

“Stop,” he commands, though his voice lacks conviction. 

He takes a step back, but you follow, closing the distance between your bodies. 

“Why?” you ask defiantly, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze, “Why should I stop when you’re clearly thinking about it?”

“This ain’t the place for that,” he mutters, but even as he says it, his eyes flicker down to your lips, and there’s a primal hunger lurking just beneath the surface before he grabs your biceps and hauls you back out and to his truck, opening the passenger side door with a less than gentle manner as you climb inside, closing the door when you’re safely inside before slipping into the driver’s seat, silence settling.

He shifts in his seat, a growl of frustration escaping his lips. “This ain’t a game,” he warns, but his eyes betray him—showing a flicker of interest as they devour you whole, “if you can’t understand that—this, it can’t happen.”

“I think you really underestimate me,” you retort.

“No, I’m fuckin’ terrified of you,” Joel admits suddenly, “and how you’re makin’ me feel.”

Empathy has always been your weakness, but you’re hesitant with him now.

Guarded.

“If you didn’t want this I’d rather you say it instead of draggin’ this along,” you tell him.

Joel's gaze hardens, the tension between you thickening as you challenge him. 

He was caught in your web, and he knew it.

“I want you,” he finally admits, the admission hangs in the air like a charged storm cloud ready to strike lightning down on the cab of his truck.

“Then stop fighting it,” you breathe into him, moving closer now but still keeping a distance, his face melting against your touch as you turn his head to look at you, “I can keep your secrets, Joel.”

He doesn’t answer with words, but he looks at you.

Right at you, eyes stuck on the way your lips part, taking in a shaky breath.

“I’m still wearing it,” you admit, voice raising a subtle octave higher with a sudden nervousness, “if you wanna see?”

Joel’s eyes drag to your chest instinctually, looking around quickly to survey the area.

He knew there wasn’t anything to worry about out here, covered in a thick shadow of darkness save the gentle light of the moon and he nodded, the weakest you’ve ever seen him.

Your heart races as you slowly lift the fabric of your shirt, revealing the delicate lace of the bra beneath. The air thickens with a hunger that washes over Joel’s gaze, his hand slowly drifting to rest against the knee that had shifted over his spread leg

“Fuck,” he breathes, as if he can barely contain himself. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

It was the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters to him at this moment that sends a thrill down your spine. You continue to tease, inching the straps of your bra down over your shoulders, as your fingers curl over the lacy cups and pull down.

 “You can have a taste,” you whisper, your breath catching in your throat, “if you’re willing to get over that no-touch rule,” you notice the way his hand has already seemed to bypass it, squeezing at your knee gently before his fingers slowly curl around the side of your waist, pushing and pulling at the same time until your chest is presented to him, his eyes lingering on you for a brief moment before he places kiss at the center of your chest.

The warmth of his lips leave a sting as he trails, each side of your collarbone, your shoulders, down your chest again, the gentle contact sending shivers racing through your body. 

You gasped softly, arching your chest further toward him, craving more and willing him to close the distance. “More,” you urged breathlessly, your hands finding their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him closer.

Joel’s mouth moved lower, kissing down your torso with a fervor that made your heart race. 

His lips trailed over your abdomen, hot and possessive, as his fingers tugged at the fabric until it folded over, hanging uselessly under your breasts.

He paused for only a moment before lifting his gaze to meet yours again—his eyes dark with desire before you’re moving, quick and sudden as you spread yourself out over his lap, gasping at the feeling of his teeth dragging over your nipple, his tongue swirling around the skin as it hardened in his mouth.

Your back arches in response, thighs pressing tightly against him as you let out a low moan, watching him place gentle, but sloppy kisses as he looked up at you, gauging your response.

Your eyes are heavy, weighted down with pleasure as you sigh, head falling back in response.

“You have me,” you tell him, like a mantra, repeating with every touch of his lips.

Joel wasn’t planning on letting you go.

–

Joel watches you through the tiny screen of your phone as you fiddle with the new doorknob a day later, face contorted in concentration as you twist the screw into the fitted hole, “If this doesn’t work I’m kicking this door down,” you sigh, giving the screw one last tight turn before it clatters to the floor.

“I just walked you through, step by step,” Joel argues, “I’m startin’ to think you just don’t trust my advice…”

“Jury’s still out,” you respond absently, rising to your feet as you wiggle the doorknob to ensure it was secure before closing the door and opening it a few times, feeling satisfied went it doesn’t wobble when you pull, “....alright, you did good,”

Joel snorts tiredly, his camera fuzzy and badly lit as he laid in the dark, glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose as he looked at you through the screen of his phone. 

He listened, clearly. You had nagged him over his terrible eyesight for years.

“You should be paying me for my expertise,” he jokes, a lazy grin creeping onto his face despite the late hour and you smile at his growing openness to flirt with you.

“Is that right?” You ask, slowly lowering yourself onto your bed, “What would you charge for a handyman like you?”

“For you, pro bono,” Joel says softly, rounded out by a yawn.

“I know something you can bone,” it was so bad it made Joel groan in disgusted amusement.

“Go to bed, sweetheart,” He urges, and the words have never sounded sweeter.

–

A couple days later, you’re holding up his work for a much needed opinion.

The dress hugs your figure perfectly, but you’re still undecided.

“I like the green one more,” Joel adds, his backdrop dull and grey, blank aside from the scattered post-its—he was calling you from work, which was new.

“You just said you liked the purple more,” you argue, easily stripping the dress over your head and walking toward the camera topless, his gaze flicking up cautiously out of habit even if he was protected on all sides.

You fit the green, pattern embroidered dress over your body and examine yourself through the screen, not quite sold, and neither is Joel.

“If you say you like the purple one again,” you warn him, “I’m blocking your number.”

“Can’t help it, kiddo,” he shrugs, “M’just feelin’ indecisive.”

Most of your interactions had been held purely over phone calls or video chats lately, desperately awaiting the end of your semester before summer break, attempting to make the best of the situation despite Joel’s still…occasional weariness about your relationship.

He was waiting for the other shoe to drop—knowing that no matter what good he had in his life, something was bound to fuck it up.

“Guess I’ll just go naked,” you decide, pulling the dress off in frustration before tossing it into the pile of clothes at the foot of your bed,

“Say that again,” Joel orders, his actions pausing on the other end as he stares you down.

“I guess I’ll go naked,” you say with emphasis, pushing your phone back slightly to prop against your pillow as your breasts push together by the force of your arms as they press into your mattress.

“Don’t joke like that,” Joel threatens, though his intention is empty. The tension crackles between you, thick and electric, a mixture of anticipation that never fails to send your heart racing.

You smirk, teasing him with a playful shrug as you lay out on your stomach, chin resting against your curled fist,  “What are you gonna do? Drive down here and stop me?” Your tone is light and playful, but Joel isn’t finding it amusing.

“You keep actin’ like a brat—” you’ve never seen him so serious, immediately pulling back on your teasing, “then yeah, I will.”

“Jeez, sorry,” you laugh slightly, “I’ll cool off then.”

“You wouldn’t listen to me even if I begged,” Joel says decisively, “so fuckin’ hardheaded,”

“I can,” you argue playfully, “for you, yeah.”

“Touch yourself,” he orders suddenly, your eyes widening at the command.

But, he waits, not a single ounce of wavering on his end.

“You’re serious?” you ask incredulously, half-laughing.

“Dead serious,” he replies quickly, “I’m not playin’ with you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you consider it, the thrill of submission sending a rush of warmth through your body. You adjust your position slightly, arching your back to subtly tease him before slowly slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. 

“Go on,” he encourages, “play with yourself, sweetheart.”

Admittedly, it was too easy.

Having him there, stern gaze stuck on you as your fingers circled your clit with a newfound urgency, free hand fisting into the sheets so hard you think the stitching might rip.

“Keep goin’,” Joel speaks distantly, “look up at me, kiddo,”

You do, embarrassed at how desperate your expression read through the camera, teeth sunk into your bottom lip as your hips rocked against the hurried movement of your fingers.

“Yeah, you close?” Joel asks, watching you stifle a moan into your arm. 

You nod frantically and release a sharp, shaky breath.

“Stop,” he demands suddenly, your body listening so intensely that you don’t even think when your fingers stop moving, they just do.

“What the fuck, Joel?” 

“Hands off ‘til summer,” Joel orders—it wasn’t that far, but enough that you scoff, which Joel takes as an act of defiance and raises an eyebrow in question, “that a problem?”

Shamefully, you shake your head.

“A couple weeks won’t kill you,” Joel assures you, “but if I find out you have…”

“I won’t,” you promise him, meaning it.

“Green, by the way,” Joel adds casually, “I like the green.”

You roll your eyes playfully at that, hearing his muffled but sincere goodbye as you hang up on him, your airy giggle like a melody as it sings through his speaker.

If only he could hold himself to the same damn rule.

-

previous chapter | next chapter

-

divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

[steveseddie]

looking for something dumb to do

written for @steddiebingo 12 days of christmas mini event | prompt: proposal | rating: t | wc: 2,1k | tags: modern setting, past billy/steve, first meetings, flirting, fake proposal

read on ao3

Eddie sits at the restaurant, scrolling mindlessly on his phone, waiting for Wayne.

He laughs at yet another one of those hilarious videos of parents doing the Grinch prank on their kids. Seriously, there are so many and he finds them infinitely amusing. He just sent the latest one to Gareth, knowing he’ll get a kick out of it too, and is waiting for his reply when someone slides into the seat in front of him. 

He knows it’s not his uncle before he even looks up because he just texted Eddie to say he was running late– and ain’t that rich coming from the same man who’s always complaining about Eddie never being on time? 

Anyway. 

Eddie locks his phone just as Gareth’s reply comes in but he does get a glimpse of a string of laughing emojis before he looks up. “Sorry, man, that seat is–” 

But the rest of the words die in his throat when his brain momentarily stops working. It does that sometimes, especially around hot guys. Like the one sitting in front of Eddie, staring at him with a tiny frown between his eyebrows, probably wondering why Eddie stopped talking like he got sniped. 

“Taken. That seat is taken,” he finishes. Unlike me, Eddie thinks as he gives the guy an obvious once-over. 

“Shit, sorry, of course, but can you– can you hear me out for a second?” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, his interest piqued. The guy is hunched over himself like he’s trying to hide and his voice has a frantic tilt.

“Uh sure, man, what’s up?” 

The guy probably expected Eddie to tell him to fuck off because he lets out a relieved little sigh when he agrees to listen to him. Then he leans over the table, lowering his voice. 

“Do you see that guy with the mustache waiting at the entrance? He’s my ex-boyfriend and a dick and he just showed up with the girl that he cheated on me with,” he explains hurriedly. 

Eddie locates the guy waiting to be seated and the girl holding his hand. He’s hot and she’s hot but the guy sitting in front of him has them both beat.

“So I haven’t seen him since I caught them together and ended things with him and– you know when you break up with someone and constantly think about how things will go when you run into them again? How they’ll see you and realize they lost the breakup and made a mistake by letting you go?” Eddie gives a short nod and the guy keeps going. “Right so that was my plan, only there’s a problem because the guy I was meeting for dinner tonight stood me up and now I’m here alone and pathetic and fucking Billy is here with his fiancée! Yes, they’re going to get married! Even if he always insisted he would never do that and–” 

He keeps rambling but Eddie is stuck on the fact that not only did this guy get cheated on but also someone stood him up. What the fuck? 

If he ever went on a date with someone as hot as him, Eddie would lock him down faster than anyone can say–

“–help?” 

Eddie blinks. Shit. The guy just asked him something and he has no idea what it was. 

“Uh, s–sure, how can I help?” 

Despite his flawless attempt to make it seem like he was paying attention, the guy can tell Eddie zoned out at some point. It drags an amused chuckle out of him. “I thought I could sit here with you until they leave or until they are seated and I can sneak out without them seeing me,” he says, running a hand through his hair and giving Eddie a sheepish look. 

Eddie’s phone lights up with a text then. The guy’s eyes dart down, and even if he can’t read what it says, he makes his own assumptions. 

“Unless– unless your date is almost here and you need me to fuck off before they arrive?” He says, his expression turning panicked again. He moves his chair back as if to get up and leave, almost taking out the poor waiter.

Eddie reaches across the table and grabs hold of his sweater, stopping him. “Actually my date is just my uncle and he said he’s running late,” he says with his fingers wrapped around the guy’s wrist. 

His eyes flicker down, widening a little but he doesn’t pull his hand back. “So?” 

“So you can stay.”

The guy visibly relaxes. “Fuck, thanks so much–”

“Eddie,” he offers when the guy trails off. 

“Thanks, Eddie,” the guy says with a lopsided grin that makes Eddie’s chest flutter. 

Eddie nods and leans back until his chair is balancing on two legs. He has no choice but to let go of the guy’s sweater. “So what are we doing here? Are we friends? Are we on a first date? Have we been dating for a while? What’s the game plan, big boy?”

The guy sputters, adorably flustered. “We don’t– we don’t have to do anything like that, man.” 

“Why? I’m not pretty enough to make your ex jealous?” Eddie teases, pouting a little. 

“No!” The guy hurries to say then realizes what that sounds like and blushes furiously. “I mean– no, that’s not it. You’re definitely pretty. Handsome. Hot. Uh–”

Eddie can’t help the way his grin gets bigger with every compliment until he can feel his dimples digging into his cheeks. By then the guy’s face is as red as the tablecloth. “Oh keep ‘em coming, sweetheart. Flattery definitely works on me.”

He chuckles nervously. “It’s just– I can’t ask you to do that, man.”

“Do what? Pretend that a guy like me can get a date with someone as hot as you?” He leans forward again, resting his chin on his palms and smirking. “Oh, baby, it would be my pleasure.” 

“Jesus,” the guy mutters. Eddie’s blatant flirting doesn’t give him a chance to get his blush under control. “I guess we could pretend we’re on a date if you’re up for it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie notices Billy and his fiancée following a waiter to their table. They’re going to walk right past them and there’s no way he won’t see Steve. As they get closer, Eddie catches a glimpse of the engagement ring on the girl’s finger–

“I’ll do you one better,” he says as he gets an idea. “Do you trust me?” 

The guy lets out an amused laugh. “I just met you,” he says, and when Eddie shrugs like he’s saying– so? he adds, “Okay, sure, why not?” 

Eddie shoots him a grin. “What’s your name?” 

“Steve.” 

“Your full name.”

“Harrington,” Steve says, his face pulling into a frown. “Why do you need my last–”

“Steve Harrington!” Eddie says loudly, watching as Steve’s eyes widen almost comically. The people around them whip their heads in their direction, including Billy and his girl. Perfect.

“I was planning to do this after dinner but I just can’t hold myself back anymore,” Eddie continues just as loudly. He furtively removes one of his many rings before pushing his chair back and standing up. 

He shoots Steve a quick wink and drops down on one knee. 

“Oh my God,” Steve whispers disbelievingly as he understands what’s happening. His shock only makes Eddie’s plan more believable. 

“Steve, Stevie, sweetheart, I still remember the moment when we met like it was five minutes ago,” he starts, watching Steve’s lips twitch almost imperceptibly. “I remember thinking you were so fucking out of my league you shouldn’t even be talking to me, but fate willed it so, and now I’m lucky enough to call you mine. So now I ask you to let me call you mine forever. Steve, the love of my life, my Prince Charming, the best lay I’ve ever had, will you please marry me?” He finishes by holding up his ring, looking expectantly at Steve, wondering if he’ll play along. 

He does.

Wiping a fake tear, he leans forward on his chair, cupping Eddie’s cheeks between his hands. “Eddie, our time together might seem short but I’ve always known I was right to pick you,” Steve says and Eddie has to hold back a snigger when he follows his lead– sticking to the truth as much as they can. “Now I’m picking you again. Forever. Yes, I will marry you.”

The people around them start clapping when Eddie takes Steve’s hand and slides his ring on his finger. He presses a kiss to the back of his hand, earning some cooing from the two women sitting on the table next to theirs. Billy doesn’t clap and his nose wrinkles when Steve pulls Eddie to his feet and into a hug,  glaring at the back of his head.

Eddie can’t help but smirk against Steve’s shoulder. 

“You’re insane,” he mutters into Eddie’s hair. It should be weird hugging a stranger but Eddie actually enjoys it. It feels familiar somehow. “Thank you.”

Eddie pulls back and grins, his hands still on Steve’s hips. “Aren’t you glad you picked me, huh, sweetheart?” 

Steve lets out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

“Eddie?” A familiar gruff voice says and Eddie whips his head around to see his uncle approaching, his eyes darting from Eddie to Steve to Eddie’s hands on Steve’s waist and Steve’s arms looped around Eddie’s neck. 

“Wayne!” He says, his grin not faltering for a second. This isn’t the weirdest thing Wayne has walked in on when it comes to Eddie. “You’re just in time to meet your new son-in-law!”

Wayne’s eyebrows shoot up and next to him, Steve makes a strangled sound. 

Eddie signals a waiter and it turns out to be the same one who was guiding Billy and his girl to their table before. Billy is nowhere to be found, he probably scurried off to their table while Steve and Eddie were distracted with each other, hoping Steve wouldn’t see him. Serves you right, asshole, he thinks triumphantly. 

“What can I do for the happy couple? Congratulations, by the way,” the waiter says and Eddie beams, pulling Steve closer with the arm wrapped around his waist. 

“Thank you, kind sir. Can you get us another chair for my uncle?”

The waiter nods and goes to retrieve one. 

“Eddie, you don’t have to– I can just go–” Steve says, a faint pink blush covering his cheeks.

“I can’t let you leave, Steve. We’re engaged now, it’d look weird,” Eddie says, and it’s true but he also doesn’t want to say goodbye to Steve yet.

And maybe Steve doesn’t want to say goodbye either because he folds easily. “Yeah, okay.”

They explain to Wayne what he walked into and his uncle gets a kick out of it. He and Steve get along surprisingly well, and by the end of the night, it almost feels like Steve was part of their dinner plans from the beginning. 

Wayne leaves shortly after dessert but Steve and Eddie stick around for one more drink, neither of them wanting the night to end. 

It has to, eventually, but Eddie is pretty sure that this won’t be the last he sees of Steve, not after they spent the whole night getting to know each other and flirting up a storm.

On their way out they run into Billy and his girlfriend, and Steve almost seems surprised when they do. Like he forgot Billy was there, despite him being the reason why he talked to Eddie in the first place.  Their conversation is short but Eddie makes sure to hold Steve’s hand the whole time and call Billy ‘Bobby’ a total of three times just to annoy him.

After they leave, Eddie walks Steve to his car. 

“Thanks again,” he says, leaning against the door. “For helping me out. And for dinner.”

“It was my pleasure,” Eddie smiles. “We should do it again sometime.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Stage a proposal?”

Eddie chuckles. “Well, I was thinking about dinner but I’m always happy to get down on my knees for a hot guy,” he says with a wink. 

A slightly strangled laugh tumbles out of Steve’s lip but his eyes sparkle with interest. “Maybe let’s start with dinner. Just the two of us.”

They exchange numbers, promising to call each other. When Eddie turns around to start walking toward his van, Steve calls his name.

“Don’t forget your ring,” he says, sliding it off. 

But Eddie reaches out to stop him. “Keep it,” he says, “you can give it to me next time.” 

With a grin, Steve slides it back on. 

He ends up keeping the ring, but that’s okay because Eddie gets to keep Steve. 

[kxsagi]

Heyyyy precious. Low-key want to request reader with a underground band that is suddenly blowing up but they never told the boys. (Everyone you want but please Hyoma, Yukimiya + Itoshi dudes)

Like they had this band for a while but they never said anything and the band wasn't famous until they started making hit after hit and that's how they find out (thanks even if you don't do it 🙏)

“𝐢 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 ‘𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥”

a/n: more rockstar gf! reader? OH I AM LIVING FOR IT

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, chigiri hyoma, yukimiya kenyu, isagi yoichi, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei

itoshi rin

finds out through your spotify page. 

you left your laptop open and he just wanted to queue music, but then sees you’re logged into a verified artist account with millions of streams. 

stares at the screen like it personally offended him. 

walks into the room like: “hey. wanna explain why you're casually outperforming the entire j-pop industry?” 

he’s not mad. just deeply, emotionally confused. like “when were you doing this? we live together.” 

you say “after you go to bed” and he’s like “i go to bed at 2 AM???" "... when you're at practice."  

starts watching your live shows in secret like it’s surveillance footage. 

sends you a single text after your band hits billboard: “guess i’m dating a rockstar. don’t let it go to your head.” 

plays your songs when he thinks you’re not home. you are. you record him. he never forgives you. 

itoshi sae

finds out during a random interview when the host says “your girlfriend’s band is incredible, by the way.” 

sae: “what.” 

sae: “excuse me.” 

sae: “whose girlfriend?” 

goes home, opens youtube, and finds a video titled “HOT GIRL SHREDS GUITAR WITH HER TEETH (and it’s kinda sexy)” 

pauses at 0:03. it’s you. 

calls you with the calmest voice ever: “is there a reason why you’re leading a cult on stage and no one told me?” 

you go “i thought you’d be chill about it” and he goes “this is beyond chill. this is grammy nomination level. i need a minute.” 

insists on getting free tickets to your shows even though you always offer him VIP. 

ends up becoming the mysterious hot boyfriend in the crowd who dips after the encore. 

lets you have your spotlight but still flexes a little when people connect the dots. 

chigiri hyoma

chigiri was just trying to eat his lunch when he saw your face on a Time Out Tokyo article titled “Meet the Band Taking Over Asia’s Underground Scene.” 

drops the spoon. 

reads the article with the intensity of someone researching for a thesis. 

calls you mid-interview, whispers: “you’re so hot i actually need to sit down. are you kidding me.” 

gets way too excited. 

insists on learning your setlist so he can scream-sing it in the front row. 

becomes the dude holding up a “SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND” sign at your gigs. 

posts after every one of your performances captioned: “dating the main character. sorry.” 

makes you autograph the back of his thigh once and got it tattooed. zero shame. 

yukimiya kenyu

finds out because a luxury fashion brand asked if he wanted to model with your band. 

goes “oh wow, they’re blowing up fast” and then sees your face on the moodboard. 

audibly gasps. 

takes off his sunglasses in shock, indoors. 

“love. are you a full-time rock goddess and i’m just finding out like this?” 

gets dramatically offended you never asked him to take your promo pics. 

immediately offers to do your PR, plan your brand deals, and get your band a skincare sponsorship. 

subtly matches his outfits to your stage looks. 

becomes that boyfriend who answers interview questions on your behalf: “she’s too humble to say it, but yeah, she did sell out in five minutes. queen behavior.” 

introduces you as “japan’s coolest rockstar girl” at every party. 

isagi yoichi

finds out when he walks in on you casually practicing vocals in the garage. 

he’s like “that’s kinda good…” 

then pauses. 

“wait. why do i know these lyrics.” 

pulls out his phone and realizes the song is already in his playlist. 

you’ve been in his top 5 artists on spotify this whole time and he didn’t know it was YOU. 

stares at you like you’re an alien. 

“you’re my girlfriend AND my favorite artist?! am i living a fanfic?” 

spirals. you’re hot. you’re talented. you’re secretly famous. you’re literally a pop punk goddess. 

“so like… do i get VIP access to your concerts or do i have to cry in general admission?” 

once tackled a guy backstage for breathing too close to you. 

his lock screen? your album cover. his phone case? your lyrics. 

calls your fanbase “his in-laws.” 

kaiser michael

finds out via twitter trending. 

trending topic: “WHO IS THE LEAD SINGER IN THIS BAND AND WHY IS SHE HOT???” 

he’s like “who tf is this chick everyone’s thirsting ov–” 

zooms in. 

it’s. you. 

spits out his wine. 

immediately calls you with a perfectly calm, terrifying voice: “schatz. liebe. meine muse. care to tell me why the entire internet wants to lick your boots?” 

you go “it wasn’t that deep” and he goes: “you were wearing leather pants and singing about dominance. it was absolutely that deep.” 

watches every live show like he’s scouting you for a transfer window. 

50% impressed. 50% aroused. 100% confused why you didn’t tell him first. 

claps like a proud theater mom every time you hit a high note. 

“i’ve decided to become your groupie. my ass looks good in fishnets.” 

threatens your fans for fun. 

lowkey jealous the spotlight’s not on him but deeply in love with how you take it anyway. 

shidou ryusei

finds out because he saw a clip of your concert on tiktok where you licked the mic mid-performance. 

immediately duets it with a thirst trap and the caption: “that’s my girl. hands off unless you’ve got a death wish 💋🔪” 

comments “i taught her that tongue move btw” and gets banned for 24 hours. 

facetimes you screaming: “YOU’RE IN A BAND? A BAND?? SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE A WHOLE ALTER EGO THAT LOOKS LIKE A VILLAIN I’D WANNA MAKE OUT WITH???” 

starts tagging along to all your gigs like an aggressive golden retriever. 

jumps on stage once and tries to mosh with the crowd mid-ballad. 

fights your bassist in the parking lot over “stage proximity.” 

buys your merch in bulk and cuts them into crop tops. 

refers to himself as your “road boyfriend.” 

once got kicked out of a venue for throwing a fan’s sign because it said “marry me.” 

his reasoning: “that’s MY future, bitch.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[itsnesss]

hihi!! could you please do a younger driver (like ollie or kimi) and a piece on missing the reader’s graduation bc of a race?

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐫 | oliver bearman × fem!reader

summary | you graduate, but ollie misses it because of a race. you give your speech, heart heavy, thinking of him

warnings | fluff, soft romance, mild angst, long-distance struggles, emotional vulnerability, comfort

word count | 1.5 k

🖇 more ob87 🖇 f1 masterlist

Your dress has been hanging in the closet for days, protected by a garment bag. It’s the same one you picked out with your mom, the one Ollie said made you look like a movie star.

Less than 24 hours to your graduation, and as you place the cap on the bed, you check your phone one more time. Nothing. No new messages. No calls. No news from Ollie.

You knew. You knew there was a chance. A high chance, to be honest, that he wouldn’t make it. But you had made so many plans… He himself promised he would try everything to be there.

“What if I get there just at the end, and I give you a hug when you finish your speech?” he had said excitedly, days before.

You practiced that speech with him. Several times. On video calls from hotels all around the world. He corrected you, laughed when you made a bad joke, asked you to say it slower when you rushed.

And you did it hoping that, when you walked on stage and read the final words, his eyes would be waiting for you in the audience.

But now, less than a day away, everything points to him not being there.

You sit on the bed and dial his number. It goes straight to voicemail.

You take a deep breath, swallowing the disappointment. He loves you. You know that. But sometimes loving someone who also loves their dream is… lonely.

You want to scream. Not at him. At the world.

Then, your phone vibrates.

A voice message from Ollie.

“Hey... love. I’m sure you probably already know what I’m about to say. I tried, really. But I’m not going to make it. I’m stuck here because of the rankings. They won’t let me move anything. I’m so sorry. So sorry. I thought if I didn’t tell you earlier, there might still be a tiny chance. But there isn’t…”

Pause.

“It hurts more than I can explain not to be there tomorrow. I know how much it means to you. To both of us. But even if I can’t see you walk across that stage, I’ll be watching you from wherever I am. And when you finish, when you have your diploma in your hands… call me. Please. Because even if I can’t hug you, I promise I’ll be with you in everything that comes after.”

A tear escapes.

Tomorrow is still ahead.

The sun falls perfectly over campus when you leave the house with your cap in hand and your eyes still swollen from crying the night before. You look in the rearview mirror of your dad’s car and smile automatically. You’ve waited for this day for years. You imagined it again and again. But in all those versions… Ollie was there.

When you get out of the car, everyone seems to be shining. Your classmates take selfies, some rush to meet their families, others joke about not tripping going up the stage. You just look for a face you already know you won’t find.

The ceremony begins. Your name is on the program. You’re going to give a speech. One you practiced with him. One you read over and over so he could hear it between training, interviews, and flights.

“Now, please welcome our graduating class’s guest speaker…”

You’re asked to go up.

The lights blind you a little. The auditorium is huge. It feels bigger without him.

“Good afternoon. I want to start with something very simple… thank you.”

Your voice is steady. No one notices how tightly you grip the edge of the podium, or how your eyes wander over the rows, hoping to see him somewhere. Hoping you could trick fate and make him appear.

“Thank you to my teachers, my parents, my friends… and to someone who isn’t here today. Though he was in every rehearsal, in every word of this speech. This person… believed in me when I didn’t. He listened, encouraged me, interrupted me with bad jokes so I wouldn’t take everything so seriously. And even though he’s not sitting here today… he’s with me. I’m sorry. Because that’s what the people we love do: they’re there, even when they can’t be.”

There’s a long silence. Some people applaud. Others smile, not fully understanding who you meant.

But you know. And that’s enough.

When you step down from the stage, your chest burns a little. Pride, sadness, a warm hollow that carries his name.

You go through the ceremony like a spectator of your own movie. You receive your diploma. You get hugs. Your parents congratulate you. Friends take pictures with you.

And you smile. Because you made it this far.

But something is missing. And no matter how much you deny it, you feel it.

Later, when you’re at home, the dress already wrinkled and the cap on the table, your phone vibrates.

Ollie: Can I call you?

You answer with a simple “Yes.”

Seconds later, his name appears on the screen. You pick up.

“Hi,” you say, barely a whisper.

“You look beautiful,” he says without hesitation.

“How do you know?”

“I watched the whole stream. I had an interview at the same time, but I snuck away. I saw you give the speech. You have no idea how hard it was not to cry like an idiot at the part about ‘the people we love are there, even when they can’t be’…”

You bite your lip. There’s a huge knot in your throat.

“I really wanted you to be there.”

“Me too. Every second. Every damn second. Can I send you something?”

Before you can answer, a notification arrives.

An attached file. A video.

You open it.

It’s Ollie, in his hotel room, still wearing his team suit, holding a small homemade sign that says “Congrats, love. You did it. I’m so proud of you.”

“It’s cheesy,” he laughs from the phone. “But I made it while watching the ceremony. Just in case… you couldn’t see me, so at least you’d know I was with you. In my way.”

And you… you break down crying. Silently. With the full weight of having wanted that moment so badly with him.

“Thank you, Ollie.”

“I’m going to make it up to you. All of it. I promise.”

“No need. Just… thank you for not making me feel alone, even though you were so far away.”

Silence. Warmth.

“I love you,” he says suddenly, steady.

Your heart stops for a second.

“I love you too.”

And at that moment, even though you’re miles apart, even though you haven’t seen each other, even though there’s no photo of you both at your graduation… you know this day will live in your memory as one of the most beautiful ever.

Only three days have passed since your graduation, but it feels like an eternity. After the call with Ollie, everything was bittersweet: you knew he loved you, you knew he tried, but not being able to hug him that day hurt more than you thought.

And you accepted it. You learned to let go of the idea of “the perfect moment.”

Today is Sunday, and you’re at home, in pajamas, watching a documentary you’re barely listening to. Your family is out. You have the house to yourself. Your phone is silent. You don’t even know what country Ollie is in now.

Someone rings the doorbell.

You frown. A package? A neighbor? You get up dragging your feet, expecting anything but what you see when you open the door.

“Hi, love.”

And there he is.

With his suitcase at his side, a cap crooked on his head, hair messy like he just ran out of the airport. His eyes lock onto yours like he can’t believe he’s really seeing you. Like he’s afraid you’re part of a jet-lagged dream.

And you… you’re frozen in shock.

“Ollie,” you whisper.

“I didn’t want to miss another important thing. I took the first flight after the GP. I just arrived. I couldn’t tell you. My battery died, I lost signal, then I got lost in the airport… but… I’m here. And I don’t care how I look now, or that I don’t have a gift, or that I’m sweating like crazy. I just needed to see that you were okay.”

Your eyes fill with tears.

And then you run.

You don’t think. You don’t hesitate. You just hug him like your body finally remembers what breathing well means. Like he fits with your chest, your arms, your story.

He laughs into your neck, his hands firm on your back.

“It was so hard not to cry earlier,” he murmurs. “But this… this is a miracle.”

You pull him tighter.

“It’s not a miracle. It’s that you love me.”

He pulls back a little just to look at you. His fingers brush a strand of hair from your face.

“So much.”

“Want to come in?” you ask with a teary smile.

“Only if you give me coffee and a tour of a brilliant graduate.”

“I’ll give you anything. But the tour starts with you hugging me for another half hour.”

“Deal.”

You close the door. He puts down his suitcase. And without another word, you hug again in the hallway, as if the world has finally aligned.