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joelscurls · 1 year ago

Text

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it, never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core.

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can.

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel.

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more.

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has.

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine.

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.”

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.”

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do.

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it.

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you.

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length.

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay.

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.”

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket.

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink.

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale.

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers.

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week.

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context.

You shake your head, no.

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort.

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name �� Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!”

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch.

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through.

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket.

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder.

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late.

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb.

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest.

“Why didn’t you say no?”

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor.

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin.

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway.

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern.

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all.

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait.

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life.

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand.

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved.

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up.

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb.

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers.

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday.

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer.

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side.

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down.

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs.

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now.

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?”

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.”

“Why not?”

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?”

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat.

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw.

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep.

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths.

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs.

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches.

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.”

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist.

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life.

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop.

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel.

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning.

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

#joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction

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tfwbluu · 1 month ago

Note

riki being jealous and leaving hickeys, I’m having a brain rot rn.

PAIRING — ni-ki + f!reader

WARNINGS — idol!au, reader is a prada ambassador, semi-public sex (empty hallway), jealous!riki, pet names, he calls reader slut once, quickie, praise, squirting, biting (hickies duh), ki’s lowkey a dork at the end, mouth covering.

WORDCOUNT — 0.8K

NOTE — yes this is a reference to the prada party so MULLET RIKI! if yall see me work fast on reqs its bc i just have too many ideas and a lot of free time recently so yeah </3 not proofread so lmk if i missed anything in the warnings !

He didn’t know why he was so riled up. You were simply chatting with Heeseung, just as you always did, but something about it had his blood boiling. Was it your dress, hugging your figure in all the right ways? The way your hair frames your face so perfectly? Or maybe it was the gloss on your lips, making them look so tempting, so kissable. He didn’t know.

All he knew was that watching you laugh and smile with someone else was driving him mad. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. Striding toward the two of you, he grabbed your hand, pulling you away without explanation.

You yelped, barely managing to wave a confused goodbye to Heeseung as Riki dragged you through the crowd. When he finally stopped, he slammed you against the wall, caging you in with his arms.

“What was that all about?” you asked, confusion flickering in your wide eyes. It wasn’t like him to act this way.

“I don’t know,” Riki admitted, his voice low and strained. His face was so close, his nose brushing against your neck as he inhaled deeply, intoxicated by your scent. His lips pressed soft kisses along your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“Ngh… you’ll leave marks, Ki,” you whined, your hands weakly trying to push his head away.

He groaned, ignoring your protest as he pulled you even closer. His hands slid down, gathering the fabric of your dress and pulling it up to reveal your panties. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his desire evident in every movement.

“Fuck, I need you so bad, angel,” he murmured, his voice heavy with desperation. His gaze locked onto yours, pleading. “Can I?”

You hesitated, your breath hitching, but as his eyes bore into yours, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. You nodded, and that was all he needed. In one swift motion, he pushed your panties down your thighs.

He released his cock from its confines, his hand gathering your arousal before spitting into his palm and stroking himself a few times. Aligning his thick length with your entrance, he pushed in slowly, drawing a needy whine from your lips. The sound was quickly muffled by Riki’s hand clamping over your mouth.

“Shh, angel,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “You don’t want anyone to find us, right?” Without giving you time to adjust, he began thrusting, his hips snapping into you with a relentless rhythm.

Your body trembled, your legs growing weak, and the only thing keeping you upright was his firm grip. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his jacket as your muffled moans vibrated against his hand. His lips trailed along your neck and collarbone, leaving tiny marks in his wake, each one claiming you as his.

“You’re mine, angel,” he growled, angling his thrusts to hit that perfect spot inside you. Stars danced in your vision as his cock drove into your g-spot with precision. “All mine.”

“F-Fmmk… ‘m clmmse~!” you whined, the words muffled against his hand. Your eyes rolled back, your body trembling as the pleasure overwhelmed you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck, desperate for release.

“You’re so loud, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “You wanna show everyone what a good slut you are f’ me, hmm?” His grip on your waist tightened, thrusts growing erratic as he chased his release.

“Let go, angel. Let’s cum together,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. With a final deep thrust, he groaned, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, filling you to the brim.

The sensation pushed you over the edge, and you cried out softly against his hand as you squirted around him, soaking both of your clothes. You silently thanked the darkness for hiding the evidence, though the mess clinging to your thighs was unmistakable.

Riki pulled out, gently sliding your panties back up, sealing his release inside you. “Keep it in,” he smirked, pressing a kiss to your lips, his own breathing heavy as he admired your flushed face.

He smoothed down your dress, adjusting it just enough to make you look presentable before tidying himself up with practiced ease. Reaching for his jacket, he draped it over your shoulders, the gesture almost tender.

“As much as I’d love to show you off, there are people out there,” he teased, his arm steadying you as you stumbled slightly, your legs still weak.

“Y-yeah… fuck,” you muttered, leaning into him for support.

“Sorry, angel,” he chuckled, holding you close as you both walked toward the exit, his fingers brushing soothingly against your waist.

A few moments of silence passed before he leaned down, his voice mischievous. “Well�� wanna continue later?”

“Ki,” you groaned, exasperated but amused. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

#( tfwbluu )#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen smut #enha smut #niki smut #niki x reader #riki smut #riki x reader #ni ki smut #ni ki x reader

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slut4thebroken · 4 months ago

Text

Teddy Bear

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Tommy Shelby x step daughter!reader

Summary | Your (step)dad uses you as stress relief.

Warnings | Smut, technically incest ig, praise, innocence kink, corruption, creampie, too many pet names, daddy kink kinda.

Words | 1.1 k

Notes | Idk if corruption + age difference are the right descriptions but I’m so fucking exhausted that I literally can’t figure out anything better lol. Feel free to lmk if y’all think something else would fit more than this.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 14 corruption + age difference

Read this before continuing ❤️

You whined at the feeling of his fingers curling almost violently against your walls, trying to get you warmed up as quickly as possible. Tommy had stormed into your room, startling you awake. He barely said a word as he ripped the covers away and pulled your panties off your body. He didn’t even bother removing your nightie before climbing over you and shoving two fingers inside. Your legs wrapped around his hips and he suddenly leaned down to kiss you, knowing that it always makes you needier. The kiss was messy and sloppy and desperate as he pressed the heel of his hand against your clit and forced a third finger inside you.

He was starting to focus on spreading his fingers, working you open for his cock rather than actually trying to pleasure you. After only a few minutes, he removed them and opened his pants, not even bothering to undress. You hugged your teddy bear for comfort and whined at the uncomfortable pressure when he pushed his cock against your entrance, struggling to fit.

“Come on, little one… Let me in.” He whispered, voice low and raspy. He kept pushing until he finally breached your opening, forcing a startled sound of pain from you. “Good girl.” He groaned, not stopping until he was buried completely inside you, forcing your walls to stretch almost painfully wide to accommodate his girth. Without even giving you a moment to adjust, he slowly drew his hips back, then pushed forward again at the same speed, making you whimper.

“Daddy,” You whined, staring up at him with teary eyes. Your walls were desperately fluttering around his cock, trying to expel the intrusion.

“You can take it.” He said softly, already starting to speed up. You whimpered and hugged your teddy bear to your chest even tighter. “You can fucking take it.” He gruffed. You could tell that he was only getting more worked up. After barely a few minutes, his pace got even faster until he was quickly bucking into you, ignoring your soft cries and whimpers.

However, the pain was starting to go away as the pleasure of him fucking you took over. It was still too much, too soon though. But Tommy didn’t seem to care about how you were feeling at all. The fact that you were starting to feel better didn’t change anything in the way he rutted into you desperately, grunting and panting as he focused on his own pleasure.

“You’re just the perfect little girl for daddy, aren’t you?” He cooed, almost mockingly. “So tight, making the sweetest little sounds, letting me use you however I want… Such a good girl.” You whined and blushed at the praise, hiding the bottom half of your face behind the teddy bear.

Suddenly leaning up, he grabbed the tops of your thighs, then started snapping his hips into you at breakneck speed. You cried out and squeezed the stuffed animal even tighter, trying to cope with the overwhelming feeling.

When he just kept pounding you at a brutish pace, you finally whimpered out, “Daddy, please slow down.”

In response, he adjusted his grip on your thighs and shushed you before fucking you even harder. “You’re my good girl. You can take it.” He gruffed, pounding your already sore pussy without paying any mind to your reactions. “You just lay there and hug your teddy bear, love. I need this.” His breathing was growing heavier from the exertion.

“It hurts.” You whined.

“Just a little longer, baby. I’m almost done.” His cheeks were a little flushed as he panted, only focusing on rapidly bucking his hips to bring himself closer to his release. Each time the blunt head of his cock kissed your cervix, you whimpered in discomfort and your face scrunched up a little more from the slight pain.

“Such a good girl…” He cooed, dragging his gaze over your face, admiring your flushed cheeks and teary eyes, before drifting down to your body. “Let daddy see your tits, little one.”

You whined and looked away as your blush darkened, but reluctantly reached for your nightie to pull it up the rest of the way, making him groan at the sight. Your nipples were already pebbling from the cool air and your breasts were moving embarrassingly with each thrust.

“You are so beautiful, angel.” He said breathily and your blush got even darker. “Such pretty little tits, and such a perfect little cunt… made just for daddy.” You mewled at his words and he let out a breathy laugh.

“Please..” You whined.

“Almost there, baby.” He panted quietly, his thrusts becoming even more desperate and frantic. The sight of you just laying under him and taking it was exactly what he needed right now to take his mind off of everything. It reminded him that no matter how stressful things got, he had you to make him feel better. “Ready for my come, sweetheart?” He cooed, voice thick with arousal.

You nodded with a blush, hugging your teddy bear again, but making sure he could still see your breasts like he wanted. Your soft little whimpers and moans had his balls drawing up tight, preparing for his release. But you quietly whining, “Please, daddy,” was what sent him over the edge.

He slammed into you with a grunt of satisfaction, the force of his hips jerking you up the bed a little bit. You whimpered and buried the bottom half of your face in the stuffed animal, feeling the discomfort and slight pain, but not wanting to interrupt him. He rode out his orgasm, depositing every last drop of his seed deep in your greedy cunt. Even after the pleasure faded, he didn’t move for a while as he caught his breath.

“Good girl.” He whispered, leaning down over you, making you whimper when his cock shifted inside your sore pussy. He gently grabbed the teddy bear and pulled it away, setting it on the bed beside you, then he captured your lips in a soft kiss, grunting when your walls fluttered around his sensitive cock. You whined when he pulled back, and again when he pulled his cock out, but he ignored it.

Tommy cupped your cheek and just stared at you for a moment, dragging his gaze over your flushed cheeks and youthful features. “My good girl…” He murmured, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Thank you, little one. Daddy really needed this.” He smiled a little, watching your blush darken. You nodded shyly in response and he finally leaned back up.

He tucked his cock back in his pants, then pulled your nightie down again and handed you the teddy bear. After pulling up the covers, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, making your whole face turn a little pink.

“Go back to sleep, love. I’ll check on you in a few hours, alright?” You nodded obediently and he couldn’t help but plant one last kiss on your lips before going back to his study.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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c0llisiion · 8 months ago

Text

Pairing : jeon jungkook + f!reader

Genre : smut

★ : request <3 , drabble , public sex , unprotected sex , slight praise kink and degradation ig? — lmk if i missed any!

W/C : 713

A/N : IM BACK 🤣 tysm to anon for rq this!! sorry for being inactive again i js have been going through another block 💀💀💀 i also started working on a jk au sooooo ANYWAYSSSSS NJOYY!!!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Picnic dates have got to be the cutest date idea ever. Especially when the picnic is in an area where there are not many people—just you and your boyfriend—the nature, the food, the aura—everything that brings you solitude.

And that's why he had you push against a tree trunk. Your hands gripped onto the dry, flaky surface as Jungkook frantically pushed your little sundress up. “Jungkook- not right now- people could—" "You look so gorgeous in that little dress doll, I cannot resist.” He cut you off, fingers rubbing slow circles over your clothed cunt. Jungkook was a freak, and thank all the gods that he matched your freak too. He didn't care if people could catch you guys while you were doing the deed. It was thrilling for him. The possibility got him very excited, and you didn’t mind it either.

“Jungkoo-“ you were cut off again as his large hand wrapped around your mouth. You felt him push your panties to the side; the girth of his dick landed on your exposed ass with a soft thud. “Dont want anyone hearing you, right?” You whined against his mouth as his angry red tip prodded into your sopping hole. He fucked his tip into you so you could slowly adjust to his size. “Gonna have you dripping my cum. Fill you up so good, yeah? You like that, don't you? Show everyone who you belong to?” He said while pressing you closer to the trunk. Chest flush against the surface. His long cock started pushing itself into your tight pussy. Stretching you out perfectly. His other hand gripped your ass cheek, giving it a tight slap before fully pushing himself in. Your eyes roll back, and tears start swelling up.

He wasted no time in fucking you senseless. His pace was quick and hard. Skin slapping against each other, and your muffled moans echoed throughout the area. His right hand tugged the top of your sundress down, squeezing and pulling on your sensitive tits. Your hips bucked into his at the new feeling. You clenched around his length as he plunged into your pussy. “Shit doll, taking me in so well… You only know how to bounce on my cock, dont you?” He teased. Jungkook’s mouth was agape; soft, breathy moans escaped his wet lips. Gummy walls clenched around the girthy length, your cream collecting at the base of his cock.

You moaned into his mouth like a bitch in heat. Eyes swelled up, and mascara seeped down your face. “Such a needy thing, aren't you? So needy for me, huh?” His hand left your tits to play with your swollen clit. Your hot tears ran down your face and stained his hand. The overstimulation gets to you as he starts flicking and rubbing the sensitive nub. His dick pushing into you harsher and harsher.

Your legs started trembling as you were almost close. “Coming baby? Does my baby want to squirt all over my dick?” Jungkook leaned down and whispered lowly. You turned your head around and nodded incoherently, eyes filled with tears. Jungkook smirked at your reaction, “Anything for my good girl.” His pace reached an inhuman rate. Your eyes shot wide open as he drew rough circles over your nub. “Yeah? You like how that feels?” You nod through tears and cries. You cried out loudly into his hand as you came all over his cock.

Clear liquid gushed out of your sopping hole and ran down your thighs. Jungkook was chasing his own orgasm. His thrusts got sloppier and faster as he almost reached his high. Hearing the wet sounds of your fucked out pussy sucking him in was enough for him to shoot his load deep inside you with a loud groan. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him fill you up, excess cum seeping from the sides as he slowly pulled out his softening cock.

Jungkook detaches his hand from your mouth; a thick layer of your saliva coated his palm from your constant drooling, and he let out a soft chuckle as he saw the state of his palm. He pulled your panties back into place before patting them and leaning down to whisper in your ears, “Show everyone who you belong to, kay?”

A/N : THANK YEWWW 4 READINGGGG! The idea for the rq popped up after i suddenly retrospected this one twt 🌽 vid i once saw 💀 ALSO DID YALL CATCH THE TINASHE REF 🤭🤭 life has been really hectic and I have so many fic ideas and inboxs 2 complete 😭 i might be slow in posting so be patient w me! Ilysm!! Tc <3

Masterlist!

#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ yun’s silly fics #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts army #bts fanfic #bts headcanons #bts scenarios #jungkook headcanons #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook reaction #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook

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i2ycat · 8 months ago

Text

Trouble is a Band

synopsis being in a band was all you ever wanted, and so when you were able to fly across the globe to join your brother’s high school band, you jumped at the opportunity to show everyone everything that you’ve got. singing in a band? check. performing in front of a crowd? check. falling in love with your brother’s best friend, who is in a complicated relationship with one of your fellow bandmates? check?

pairing park jongseong x fem!reader genre high school!au, kind of band!au, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, brothers best friend trope, slow burn-ish? word count 7.5k warnings implied sexual relationships (there’s no smut), kind of an implied fwb situation, liking someone who is taken(??), mentions of toxic relationships, bitchy character lol, cursing, kissing, nicknames (princess, baby), semi-proofread, lmk if i missed anything else lyn speaking i’ve been writing this for like 2 months and even lost sleep over this, the real ones know ☝🏻 idk why but this was much harder to write compared to my heeseung one… and this is not my best work, wouldn’t say i’m entirely proud of this i’m ngl so i won’t be too surprised if this flops </3 also this got me thinking ab jay and guitars wayyyy too much main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

“Are the schools here always up a damn hill?” You heave out an exasperated pant, your legs burning from the early morning cardio you definitely weren’t prepared for, or even expecting for that matter.

The summer sun is so unforgiving that in under ten minutes, you’ve become such a sweaty mess that you’re furiously sweating from every possible angle; your uniform practically drenched from your back and underarm areas. A layer of perspiration sheens the expanse of your forehead and it results in you resembling something the likes of Abby from Chicken Little as individual strands of hair stuck to it like glue.

You look over at an unbothered Jake with his hair still perfectly intact and looking as if he had just walked out of Vogue magazine. You scoff at this.

The only things you and Jake had in common were having the same last names, a slight similarity in facial structures, and maybe a shared interest in band music but that was about it. You’ve had totally different upbringings up until now, with you having lived in France while he was in Australia, and soon after, in Sokor. You were apart for most of your childhood, only seeing each other for vacations and special occasions, like that one time Aunt Jung had her outdoor wedding in Barcelona and you’d met Jake and your mother at the airport out of pure coincidence.

But despite the distance, it didn’t deter the both of you from being as close as you guys are, still making the effort to talk almost every day, even if you were drained from school. You remembered nights when you would call up Jake just to rant to him about boys — yes, multiple — you were talking to while he ate lunch on the other side of the world.

However, other than just being brought up differently, you guys were total opposites. If Jake was known to be the golden retriever with his high energy, bright smiles, and friendly dispositions, then you would be considered the chihuahua — closed-off and somewhat sarcastic. You didn’t have a social circle as expansive as Jake's because you liked to be alone. People have always told you that you had this brooding aura about you, and you could never tell if they were complimenting or insulting you.

“You get used to it,” Jake simply shrugs, adjusting the straps of his bag in a manner that did not mirror yours in any capacity. It was ridiculous how not even a single drop of sweat was in sight. “Now hurry it up! If we walk any slower, we might actually be late.” He drags you by the arm, to which you inwardly groan, already regretting the fact that you transferred to a pseudo-gym of a school in the dead of summer.

—

Transferring to an entirely different school system definitely posed itself as an inevitable challenge at first, but even then, half a day passed you by uncharacteristically fast. It might have been because you were sleeping through the majority of your morning classes, unable to totally grasp or get used to your supposed mother tongue just yet, that made time pass seemingly faster.

That, coupled with the fact you never functioned properly in the morning in the first place thanks to your night owl tendencies.

You’d spent most of your life conversing in either English or French, rendering your skills in your own mother tongue to an intermediate level at best. You could, at the very least, listen and understand it to a certain degree but not speak it as well as Jake does. You were only able to communicate with simple sentences and the few swear words and phrases your father used whenever he was lecturing you.

A day before your flight back home, you’d even attempted to touch up on your language skills with the help of your father and a facetimed version of your brother and mother, but it was already too late then. You were a lost cause. You definitely don’t blame your parents for your inability to speak the language, but rather, you blame your own lack of enthusiasm to learn it on your own in the first place.

“Y/n, right?” You rub the sleepiness from your eyes away as your gaze averts to the girl standing in front of your desk. She, with her neatly braided hair and black rims, sported a welcoming smile that gave you the impression of a class president. Maybe she was; you haven’t been paying attention to anything the teacher said since this morning.

You slowly nod, “Yeah, I am.”

“I’m Mia, the class vice president.” Okay, so your guess wasn’t entirely off the mark. You were only missing a word.

“Hi.” You purse your lips into a tight-lipped smile, unknowing of what to say next and silently wishing that your brother would come get you faster. Why did his classroom have to be so far from yours? Did the administration really think you could handle all this on your own?

In the painful silence, you were sure that this Mia girl could sense the awkwardness radiating from you with the way she’s trying so hard to keep the conversation afloat, probably thinking that you’re an introvert that doesn’t like approaching people first — which if it was any other day she would’ve be right on the money on but all you wanted right now was to be left alone to your own thoughts. You were still suffering from jet lag and time differences, and those two combined ran your social battery dry.

“Where’d you transfer from?”

“France.”

“You’re french?”

“No, I just moved there really young.”

“I see,” she said, nodding her head as if she were deep in thought. “I’ve always wanted to go to France.”

“It’s nice there.”

“So, can you speak-”

Before she can even finish her question, a blaring bang coming from the front door reverberates in your almost empty homeroom, save for yourself, Mia, and a group of friends in the back with their homemade lunches. You almost dropped to your knees to thank the heavens for hearing your prayers as you watched your brother's figure stand there, taking a moment to catch his breath as if he’d just finished running a marathon.

“Hey, Jake!” You damn near winced at Mia’s drastic change of voices in your brother’s presence. You were sure she had a deeper voice just a few seconds earlier, even having the same mezzo tone as you do. It definitely raised a few brows, but you weren’t the type to judge people too quickly, and you didn’t want to think that about such a sweet-looking girl.

Maybe she just had a crush on your brother; whatever it was, your senses were telling you that they were currently not in favour of Mia’s presence.

"Oh, hey, Mi. I see you’ve met my sister.” Jake acknowledges her before turning to you and saying, “Come on, we've got to go meet the others.” He beckons you towards him with a nod of his head, to which you happily oblige, just thankful that you don’t need to go through the rest of lunch with any more of Mia’s interrogation-style questioning.

You follow your brother after handing Mia a terse goodbye, attempting to at least have an amiable smile on your face in the process.

Even if Mia had more things she wanted to ask you, she put them aside on the backburner for a later date. Instead, opting to just wave you and Jake off with the same friendly grin she always has on.

When you’re out of earshot, making quick work to slide the door close behind you, you make your way beside Jake in quick strides. “You know her?”

“Obviously. Why?”

“Nothing.” You shrug the feelings of uncertainty off, not having the energy to try and dig anything up on the first day of school. “You said we’re meeting the others?”

“Yeah, my friends, you’ve seen them. They heard you were transferring here and really wanted to meet you.”

From the number of times you’ve called Jake during his school hours, you were bound to interact with a few of his friends, mainly the three youngest of the group: Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki. There would even be times he’d leave you alone with his friends while he went for a toilet break, and when he’d come back, you'd already be three months into the storyline with your then-current situationship.

You were obviously excited to finally meet them after only having talked to them via Jake’s phone. Throughout the four years, you’d like to think that you’ve created a connection with some of the boys, given that they already know so much about your life and you know theirs. The older ones, not so much, despite being much closer in age ranges.

Out of the four oldest, you’ve only managed to properly talk to Sunghoon. It was when you were on call crying to your brother about the fourth boy of the month, and Sunghoon just so happened to be going home with Jake that day. He’d eavesdropped on your conversation and offered you some advice, explaining that he had a sister of his own, as if that gave him the certification needed to meddle in your affairs.

You didn’t even know he was with Jake, let alone hearing you bawl your eyes out, blowing into copious amounts of tissues included, until he started going off about how boys are scary and that you shouldn’t trust them so easily. It startled you, almost making you scream, but you were grateful for his brotherly advice either way.

When the two of you finally make it towards the other end of the sixth floor, Jake slides the door to his homeroom open, and you’re immediately greeted with the view of six boys scattered around the empty classroom, a few having acoustic guitars and drumsticks in hand. This may sound cringy, but it reminded you of that one scene from Lemonade Mouth, where everyone was in the detention room and just communicating through the music. Except you weren’t in a detention room, and instead of singing, mindless chatter filled the space.

You’ve always daydreamed about being in a band, even going as far as attempting to create one of your own, but keyword: attempt. You obviously failed at doing so in your previous school because nobody likes being in bands nowadays, and your brother, knowing this, instantly jumped at the idea of adding you as their newest member.

He’d already gone through the logistics a week before you even officially transferred, coercing everyone in the band to agree to your addition, but truth be told, it didn’t even take that much toiling since everyone was just excited to finally meet you, and they'd already heard about how talented you are thanks to Jake’s endless bragging.

“She’s here!” Jake announces, prompting everyone to halt whatever it was they were doing and immediately jump at the sight of you gracing their homeroom entryway.

“Y/n!” Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki are the first ones to capture you in a big embrace, effectively squishing you under their hold. Is this what people feel when they finally meet an online friend?

The mixture of fulfilment and excitement bubbling inside you was hard to maintain levelled, spilling out of you in the form of a grin that extended from ear to ear. You considered these three your babies at this point, wanting to spoil and shower them with as much love and affection as an actual mother would. It didn’t matter if you were only a few months older than them, that’s wasn’t the point.

When you’re released from their embrace, you can finally see the rest standing there with a cordial expression plastered over their features. You must admit, you’ve always thought that Jake’s friends were all attractive and had a relative charm to them, but it’s even more apparent now that you’ve met them in real life. With their tall stature and undeniable talent, you could only imagine the long line of girls waiting for them.

As you start to scan the boys one by one, you catch yourself gravitating towards Jay. He’s donning the school uniform, the same exact ones that the rest are, but he makes it so uniquely his by unbuttoning it to show the black shirt underneath and cuffing the sleeves until it reaches his forearms.

From the plethora of Instagram stories you’ve seen about Jay, you knew that Jay was into fashion and occasionally designed the outfits the guys wore onto stage. And as a fashion guru yourself, you applauded his impeccable style, finding yourself in constant awe of the effortless aura and innate ability for fashion that he possessed.

It also didn’t help that he was totally up your alley in terms of physical attractiveness. The others were pretty and charming in their own way, yes, but Jay had you hooked the moment Jake posted that photo of him fresh out of the beach, with tan skin and wet hair, looking like a damn Greek god.

Did you mention that you’ve also watched an unhealthy amount of videos of Jay playing the guitar? Because you have and it made getting attracted to him so much easier. Even through the screen, you could just tell that he was in his element, like he was born to perform as the passion he had for the instrument oozed out. Everything about him was just so mesmerising; you’re sure that you’re not the only one who sees that.

The timeline is blurry but from then on, you’d developed a small, insignificant crush on him, one that you didn’t bother mentioning to your brother because you were scared he would force you to act on it, even when you weren’t sure if you liked him enough to want to date him. You haven’t even properly met the guy at that point.

To you, it was simply an attraction. One that you’d get over in about a month because it’s what you always do.

“Hey, guys.” You wave.

“You’re awfully shorter than I thought you would be.” Riki says this from beside you, silently mocking you for all the times you’ve challenged him about his height.

“Of course you would say that.” You playfully roll your eyes. “You’re obsessed with your height, Riks; we get it.”

"Okay, back off, guys. That’s my little sister you guys are hogging.” Jake shoos the younger boys away with a flick of his hand, to which they dejectedly comply, making way for you to enter further into the classroom. “What was on our agenda again? Right, Y/n’s position in the band.”

“We could use another guitarist.” Sunoo muses, with Jungwon and Sunghoon silently agreeing on the side.

“Nah, we already have Jay and you for that.” Your brother shakes his head. “Wait, speaking of Jay, where’s Jiwon? You said she’d be here when I came back.” At this, all eyes shift towards Jay, who simply shrugs.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t tell me you guys are having a lover's quarrel again.” Heeseung sighs. Your ears immediately perk up at the mention of Jay, Jiwon, and a lover's quarrel in the same sentence. Confusion starts to pervade your stomach.

Huh? When did they start dating? You thought Jiwon was only a close friend.

You’ve only ever heard of Jiwon, not once seeing her face in Jake’s stories or any of the others. All the information you had on her was that she was the same age as you and played the keys for the band. Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki mentioned her once or twice, but it was more of them complaining about her. Other than that, it was as if her existence evaded you completely.

“The third one this month, mind you.” Riki quips.

“It’s only the second week of the month, though.” Jake’s mouth gapes at the fact that his best friend is still willing to go through such a toxic relationship, or whatever it was, even when she limits the people around him until she’s the only one left in his life, when they constantly fight over the smallest things, or even when she encourages him to drop his best friends. He doesn’t understand what’s so good about Jiwon that’s got Jay under her spell, and he doesn’t want to know either.

“Can we just drop it?”

Your brother puts his hands up in defeat and says, “Whatever you say, bro.”

An awkward air of silence starts to permeate the air, and by now, you’re sure someone could cut through the tension with a knife.

You clear your throat before saying, “Is it okay if I’m just a singer?” in an attempt to divert the conversation back to its original agenda, which thankfully works because the others start talking, adding in their own thoughts here and there. And by the time lunch ends, you’re officially set as the band’s lead singer and lyricist.

Finding out about Jay and Jiwon’s relationship made you realise just how little you know about these guys, only having talked to them through FaceTime and watching them live their lives through snippets of Jake’s Instagram.

The warmth and familiarity you were initially met with made you completely forget that you only officially met these guys today. They were all, to some extent, still strangers to you.

—

A few hours of school turned into two weeks, and two weeks into a month. By now, you’ve gotten more than used to everyone’s dynamics and energy, though it was still a little too high for you at times. You were thankful that your brother was there whenever you couldn’t communicate your feelings and thoughts as well as you wanted to, and for the rest for being so understanding.

All of this was a dream come true for you, truly. Ever since your father introduced you to the world of music, you’ve dreamt of being in a band yourself, singing your own songs in front of people, and feeling the music course through you as you stand on the stage.

But no matter how much you wanted to saturate your mind with happier, less confusing thoughts, it always seemed to circle back to the same thing: Jay and Jiwon.

Over the course of a month, you’ve managed to interact with Jiwon on several occasions, each lasting around a minute. They consisted of mostly quick pleasantries, instructions, and the rare ‘how are you’s? She wasn’t cold but not entirely friendly either, which you totally get because it’s not like you were any different.

Throughout the majority of the breaks in between practice sessions, she stuck by Jay’s side, engaging in playful and flirtatious banter that the boys would secretly roll their eyes at. You’d asked your brother why everyone seemed to not like seeing Jay and Jiwon together, but he simply shrugged you off, leaving you with even more questions.

“Hey, Y/n.” You look up from your notebook to see Mia, who you’ve wrongly assumed was a pick-me at first, cheerfully greeting you.

Somewhere along the line, she’d bashfully admitted to you that she liked your brother. It definitely explained the change in personalities and voices whenever he was around, but it didn’t make you want to recoil any less. She was a good-natured girl who hated letting anyone down, so when she asked for a favour from you — one that involved you setting her up with your brother — there was just no way you could decline. If she wanted to date your brother, you would happily aid her in that.

Which brought you to a now-blooming friendship.

“Hi, Mi.” You managed to reciprocate her energy.

“You’re having band practice today, right?” She asks with a tilt of her head, to which you nod. A beat passes before she bites her lip in anticipation. “Is it okay if I come watch?”

From the way her eyes glowed with hope, you could immediately tell that she only had one mission in mind: to see Jake. “You’re not being very discreet with this,” you chuckle, endeared by her amateurish antics. “But, sure. Practice starts at 4.” Hearing this, she immediately clasps her hand into yours, thanking you as if you just saved her entire bloodline.

She leaves you to your own accord not soon after being called by the teacher, “I’ll be there!”

With twenty minutes to spare and no one to spend it with, seeing as your brother was busy with lunch detention and your three babies had a student council meeting to attend to, you decided to make your merry way towards the practice room with your notebook in hand.

Pushing the door open, the view of Jay playing the guitar by the window warmly greets you. You're awestruck by the way he strums the chords so effortlessly, filling your ears with the most beautiful progressions you’ve ever heard, like it was heaven’s sonata. You would’ve loved to just stand there all day and relish in the intimate moment he’s created in the dingy room, but it only takes a few seconds before Jay inevitably notices your figure by the door.

“Y/n?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be here right now.” You take a step back, ready to shut the door close behind you, but before you could move even an inch, Jay refused, instead asking you if you could keep him company. “You want me to stay?”

“I mean, why not?” He pats the space beside him and scoots over.

Your steps are hesitant, somehow alarmed by the prospects of Pandora's box in your heart breaking open the moment you decide to sit next to him. But it was just a simple, friendly act, so what could possibly go wrong here? You push those thoughts away and plop yourself on the cushioned window seat, leaving just enough space between you and him.

“So, why are you here?” He asks you as he carefully sets the guitar back on the floor.

“Everyone else was busy,” You could feel Jay’s intense watch on you, and you couldn’t help but feel the burning sensation on your skin. Just being in his presence alone was already making you feel hot; your cheeks were heating up in the process. “How about you?” You just wanted him to stop looking at you, because you wouldn’t know what to do if he noticed just how he was making you feel.

“Me?” He hums. “I guess I just wanted some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, am I disturbing your peace and quiet? I could leave right now.”

“You don’t have to be so antsy. I’m not going to bite you, ya’know?” He chuckles, clearly amused by your response. “And besides, you’re giving me peace by just being here.”

“I see.” You nod slowly as you bite your lip in an attempt to get a better hold of your nerves. There was absolutely no need to be so nervous around your brother’s best friend.

“I just realised something,”

“What?” You shift in your seat to get a better look at him.

“This is the first time we’ve ever had a one-on-one talk.”

“Yeah, I wonder why.” You retort, and he raises an eyebrow at this.

“What do you mean by that?” His head tilts at an angle, looking at you with those deep-set eyes of his. You can try to deny it all you want, but the skip in your heartbeat is hard to mistake; it’s not a feeling you’re stranger to.

“I don’t know; you never seem to talk with anyone else other than Jiwon during practice, so it’s no wonder we’ve never actually talked before.”

“Wow, you’re sounding a little salty there.” Jay’s lips form a lopsided smirk after noticing the defensive expression that adorned your features. “Nah, I’m just toying with you.” The airy laugh he lets out does little to nothing to soothe the chaos that ensues in your heart and mind.

“For your information, I am not salty. It’s just a bummer that you never really tried forming a closer friendship with anyone else in the band.”

“It’s not that I haven’t tried." He mumbles.

“Sorry?”

He shakes his head and says, “It’s nothing.”

A comfortable silence engulfs the air between both of you before Jay continues, “Hey, since you’re so salty about me not giving you my attention, how about I buy you ice cream tomorrow?”

“First of all, I am not salty. And second of all, it wasn’t that-”

"So, is it a no?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “If you admit that I’m not salty, then maybe I’ll agree to it.”

“You’re not really in the position to be giving me a challenge, seeing as I’m the one offering you free food,” he bites down a simper. “But fine, your highness, I hereby declare you not salty.” He adds a curt bow for the dramatics, and you can’t help but roll your eyes in faux annoyance.

“You’re so annoying.” You huff out.

“If you’re going to be in our band, you’re going to need more tolerance and patience than that.”

You could feel yourself slowly letting your guard down in Jay’s presence. The playful and witty banter he offered you made you feel like you’ve known him longer than you actually do, and it felt nice.

It felt almost too nice to be around him. But like everything else in your life, this feeling too shall pass. He has a girlfriend, for Christ's sake. So you better make sure that it will.

—

With your head resting on your hand, you silently watched the busy street beside you. When you first came to Korea, it was summer, but now that the leaves were starting to turn orange little by little, you could tell that it was nearing your favourite season of the year — autumn. To you, everything felt just a little more romantic under the autumn leaves and the cool breeze that hangs in the air.

“Were you waiting long?” Jay’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you quickly shake your head. “Sorry, Ji wanted me to teach her this riff on the guitar.” He pulls the seat out in front of you to sit, and you take the opportunity to sneak a longing glance at him: tousled hair, swollen lips, an untucked collar. It definitely looked like he did more than just teach her chords, but you bite your tongue.

It was none of your business.

“Did you order already?” He flips through the menu of desserts.

“No, I was going to, but I realised I didn’t know what flavours you liked.”

“Sorry,” He passes you a sheepish smile. “I’m going to go on a whim here and guess that you like Rocky Road.”

You raise an impressed brow. “How’d you know?”

“I just know you like that.”

“We’ve known each other for 3 weeks, Jay.”

“Okay, damn. You really do wound me,” a hand raises to his chest, feigning hurt. “Okay, now you guess what flavour I like.”

You ponder over for a while but decide to just settle on the most basic flavour of all, “Vanilla?” His face visibly falters at your answer; you could almost make out a pout forming on his kiss-bitten lips.

“Wow, I could tell the amount of thought you put into that.” His sarcastic claps boom throughout the modest ice cream parlour, earning him dirty looks from the few customers at the neighbouring tables.

“So you don’t like vanilla?”

He crosses his arms and asks, “What do you think?”

“Ugh, this conversation is going nowhere; go order it yourself.” You groan out, rising on your feet to order on your own.

“Calm down, princess; I’ll go order it.” Before you could protest, he'd already made a beeline for the cashier.

Princess? That was new. Oh, who were you kidding? All of this was fucking new.

A feeling of internal turmoil starts to bubble violently, like a seething kettle waiting to be opened. You hated how he was so nonchalant about everything. And you hated how he unknowingly made you feel things you shouldn’t feel. It felt awfully wrong on so many levels, but this thing was just a friendly gesture, a payback, if you will. There was nothing wrong with hanging out with your brother’s best friend on a Thursday evening, even if you held an underlying attraction for said friend, right?

“Here, one Rocky Road for your highness, and one good ol’ vanilla ice cream for her loyal servant.”

“So you do like vanilla ice cream,” you scoff.

“I never said I didn’t.” He shrugged. “Woah, this might actually be the best vanilla I’ve ever tasted. Try it!” He scoops a chunk out for you to taste, which you politely decline. There was a certain line you didn’t want to cross, no matter how insignificant and innocent the gesture might’ve been. Maybe you were thinking too hard, but it would’ve been weird for you to share an indirect kiss with a taken man, even if he was your brother’s best friend. “Hm, your loss then.”

The both of you remained in silence with the dulcet melodies of Wave to Earth playing in the background, and it served as a pleasant companion to the overly complicated noise in your head, all caused by the boy sitting a few feet from you.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Jay’s voice pulls you out of your own mind, causing you to look up at him expectantly. “You have a really beautiful voice.” His warm smile shoots you in the heart, right where you know it shouldn’t. It was just a simple compliment, one that you’ve heard plenty of times before, yet it sounded so good coming from him. It almost made you want to keep proving yourself to him so you could keep hearing him praise you like that.

“Thank you,” You bite the insides of your cheek as a way to chide yourself. Just why were you so easily affected by everything he says and does?

“I really want you to sing this song I’m writing. I mean, I’m not totally done yet, but I wrote it with your voice in mind. It’s for the upcoming music festival.” He pulls out his phone and earphones from his pocket, sliding his chair closer to yours and offering an earpiece, which you cautiously take.

You straighten your back in an effort to keep yourself focused, not wanting to mind the way his shoulders are pushed up against yours, or the way you could practically make out every single feature on his face, or the fact that you would’ve felt his breath fan against your face if he turned even just a bit to the left. You needed to physically force yourself to focus solely on the music.

Don’t mind the confusion.

The sense of focusing.

The only sure thing is you.

So now, put it all behind.

I’m just going to walk according to how my heart beats.

Fatal trouble.

Jay’s voice fills your ears, alongside Jungwon and Sunghoon’s. You could appreciate their heavenly voices all day, but the striking lyrics seemed to be the main reason for taking your breath away. It sounded as if they were speaking to your troubled thoughts right in the face, slithering around you to tempt you into falling deeper. Deeper into what? You didn’t want to even think about it.

"So, what do you think?”

“It's... it’s good.”

“That’s it?”

“What did you want me to say?”

“No need to get so feisty, princess.” He ruffles your hair, and you sigh, feeling the overwhelming defeat take over you because, no matter how much you wanted to fight the feeling, you knew that all your efforts would come crashing down anyway.

You were a weak woman with many faults, and being attracted to someone who is so painfully taken is the biggest one of them all.

—

With only a few weeks left until the school’s music festival, it’s no surprise that everyone has been on edge, but particularly so with Jay and Jiwon. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell they were going through a rough patch in their relationship right now, made apparent by the abnormal amount of distance between them and the lack of flirtatious banter filling the room.

Every practice session was filled with the suffocating tension that made practicing so much more exhausting, and Jake had had enough of it.

“I know you guys are having yet another lover's quarrel, but can you guys quit it? We have a festival coming up, and we can’t afford to have both of your immature asses fucking this up for us.” Your brother’s stern voice shakes the entire room. He was usually never the one to get mad at people, so it felt unusual to see this side of Jake.

“We’re not lovers,” Jiwon retorts as her fingers mindlessly hover over the keys on the keyboard. She tilts her head at Jay and says, “He made very sure of that.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter what the fuck you guys are or not; I just need you guys to keep it civil for the sake of our performance, if not our team.”

“Oh, fuck off. As if you guys have ever even tried keeping it civil with me,” Jiwon seethes, the dark chuckle of complete disbelief she lets out hanging heavy in the air. “Yeah, I see the way you guys roll your eyes at me, and I hear the way you guys bitch about me behind my back too. I’m not fucking blind, Jake.”

You could see the way everyone shifts uncomfortably in their spots, and you can’t help but do so too.

“Quit it, Ji.” Jay’s attempts at getting Jiwon’s rampage to stop proved futile, as it only spurred her on.

“Shut up, Jay. I know the only reason you refuse to make it official is because you started liking your best friend’s little sister over me.” As soon as she dropped the bomb, all eyes darted towards Jay, who only stared at Jiwon. His jaw ticks in what you could only surmise as vexation, with the evidence of it starting to sprawl across his features. “What, baby? Cat got your tongue?” Jiwon sneers.

“Jiwon, if you’re not going to contribute anything to the band, you can just go home.” Sunghoon speaks as he points to the exit.

“I was planning to anyway,” she says, picking up her bag from the floor. “I am so fucking done with this, and you guys are all fucked.” With that, the door behind Jiwon shuts with a deafening bang.

The eight of you remain frozen in your spots with the shock of it all coursing through your veins like a hot iron. You needed a minute or two to even begin to assimilate whatever the fuck just went down.

When she said that Jay liked you over her, she meant it as a friend, right? There’s no way it meant anything more than that, right? Why does he keep confusing you? Why did he have to have your heart right in the palm of his hand? You felt your head start to pound the more you thought about it, and you just wanted to escape from it all.

—

Life since you joined your brother’s band has been everything you’ve ever imagined and more. You were finally able to meet people you called your family; you were able to sing your heart away on stages the way you always wanted to; and you were able to feel alive in a way you couldn’t when you were in France. But it didn’t stop there. You fell in love — a little too hard at that — and now you were suffering the consequences of that.

You had a track record for falling in love way too easily with people, as evident by your long list of situationships turned relationships, so when you found yourself staring at Jay for a bit too long, you weren’t entirely alarmed because you knew you’d be able to get over it in a few weeks. It was no biggie, or so you thought.

After Jiwon’s official departure from the band, the overall atmosphere had lifted and everyone was back to their normal selves; Sunoo and Sunghoon were back to bickering, and Jungwon and Riki were back to hogging you. Heeseung occasionally joined in sessions despite the senior duties that called for his presence. Jake and Jay, on the other hand, were preparing diligently for the festival, working on the song non-stop. It’s because of that that you haven’t been seeing either of them lately, which you were thankful for because it gave you time to really think. Think about whether Jay liked you as a friend or in a romantic sense.

“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” Mia nudges you in the arm. She knows you like the back of her hand at this point, given the amount of time she’s spent at your practices. It’s thanks to your cupid skills that your brother and her have been spending much more time together inside and out of the practice room, and despite either of them telling you that they’re just friends, you know better than that.

You sigh, knowing that it’s no use lying to her. “Is it that obvious?”

"Oh, baby, it’s written all over your face.” Her neatly manicured fingers push loose strands of hair out of your face just before squishing your cheeks in an endearing manner. “Talk to me about it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know.” She gives you a knowing look. “It’s just... that I liked him for so long, thinking that he was taken, and I felt so fucking guilty for it. Then the whole ‘Jiwon leaving’ thing happened, and now I’m all confused. Honestly, there hasn’t been a moment where Jay hasn’t confused me. Everything he says and does just makes me want to scream, ‘What the fuck are we!’ but I know he’s just doing it because we’re friends or whatever.

I mean, he literally calls me princess. How does he not expect me to not feel things? It’s so damn frustrating. I thought I would be able to get over these feelings before winter started, but here we are in the dead of winter, and I’m still helplessly pining over my brother’s best friend, like a damn loser.”

Everything you’ve been holding since you transferred here finally threatens to spill out, and by now, you just couldn’t help the tears from lining your eyes and your throat from constricting.

“Oh, my Y/n.” She embraces you in a hug and connects her forehead with yours; it only eggs you on to fully succumb to your emotions, and so tears become full-fledged sobs. “It’s okay, let it all out.” Her voice, along with her hand ministering to gently soothe your back, lulls you.

Until you’re left only as a sniffling mess, she continues to caress your back. “Thank you, Mi. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m always here for you,” She squeezes you one last time for good measure before letting go of you. “Now, we need a plan for you to get your man.”

“No, we do not.”

“You did it for me, so it’s only fair if I return the favour.”

“I don’t even know if he likes me like that,” you exhale for what seems like the nth time this month.

“Then we’ll make sure he does. Simple as that,” she claps her hand. “Boys fall for anything, so if he doesn’t already like you, he will anyway, because just look at you! You’re stunning, funny, kind, talented, and so so so much more. Believe me when I say that, Y/n.” Her features soften even further as she shares a look of sympathy with you.

Her words melt right through you, and you’d like to believe that you do hold the ability to make Jay fall for you.

—

Endless weeks of toiling had brought you all to this exact moment — d-day. You fidgeted with the microphone stand to try getting a better hold of your emotions because there was no way you would mess things up, not when you’ve all worked so hard for this.

The seats in front of you are filled to the brim, yet out of the hundreds of faces, you could only recognise a select few: your mom, Mia, and a few of the others’s family members.

Jay, who stood not too far behind you, could see the trembling in your legs. “You’ll do perfect; I know that because you were made for this.” He whispers in your ear, squeezing your hands in the process. You’ve never wanted anything more than to just kiss the boy for being so damn near perfect — everything you could’ve asked for and more — but he wasn’t yours to kiss, so you heed those thoughts away, instead simply nodding your head.

“Hello, we are ENHYPEN, and we’ll be performing an original song called ‘Fatal Trouble.’” Jake’s voice echoes throughout the school hall, with claps following shortly after, just before it falls back to a silent abyss.

Sunghoon’s keys fill the empty air before you start, “Can’t believe. You, in front of my eyes, everything is the same. But your smile is one I don’t know. Your pupils are like an abyss.” You shut your eyes, letting your emotions lace through each and every word you sing.

As soon as Sunoo and Jay’s electric guitars and Riki’s drums joined in on the melody, you could physically feel the shift in the air. It brought goosebumps to your skin watching people gape at you in awe and watching their eyes twinkle against the stage lights.

“Fatal trouble. It’s getting blurry. The memory of you is crumbling down.” Heeseung and Jungwon’s lower voice harmonises with your higher one, creating the most heavenly of harmonies to echo across the expanse of the hall. It felt so electrifying to finally be able to see the fruits of all your hard work. You’re happy you got to perform with these boys side by side.

By the time the instrumentals fade to complete silence, your heart roars against your chest like a lion so hard you can practically hear them in your ears. You all take time to thank the audience before heading backstage, where you all instantly huddle together.

“We did so well!” Sunoo beams.

“For all our hard work, I say we go drinking after this,” Heeseung suggests with a motion of his hand, to which the others instantly agree.

“Drinks are on me!” You chuckle as you watch your overly excited brother raise his arm like a puppy. You of all people know just how hard he exerted himself just for this performance, if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by, so you’re just happy to finally see him be himself again.

Cheers and hoots are heard throughout the backstage area until the staff politely asks you to leave. Before you could even follow the rest past the door, Jay’s call to you stopped you in your tracks.

“You did well out there,” he compliments with a sheepish smile, and it does the same thing it always does to you — make you fall even harder. You were so damn weak for him. “I knew you would kill it.”

“You did too, considering it is your song.” He steps a foot closer to you, and despite the hitch in your throat, you don’t do much to shy away. Jay takes this as a sign to be more forthright with you. He takes your hand in his, tracing circles with his thumb along the backside of your hand.

“I wrote this song for you. It wasn’t just your voice that inspired me to write this song; it was your smile, the way you made me feel, and the warmth you gave. So, technically, it’s our song.” The boyishness in his tone is obvious, almost like he was scared to admit this to you in the first place.

“I-…” You’re rendered speechless at his insinuation, feeling the familiar giddiness starting to spread across your body. “Are you confessing to me right now?” His deep eyes hold yours, staring at you with such admiration and intensity that you feel like you could cry.

“Yes, I am, princess.” His voice was nothing short of a whisper. You could see the way he eyes your lips, and so without much contemplation, or even hesitation for that matter, you take the first step in your newfound relationship by trapping him in a kiss. Further closing in the distance between you, your arms travel around his neck while his hands find purchase in your waist.

As breathless as you felt, you couldn’t let him go — not when this is all you’ve ever wanted for so long. Months of seeing him with Jiwon and hopelessly pining over him brought you to this moment, and you were going to let yourself relish the fuck out of it.

taglist @enhaslay @channiesdarling @kim2005bomi @letwiiparkjay

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zhaobear · 5 months ago

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28 (teaser)

It takes you 28 weeks to leave Kim Gyuvin, but only 28 days to run right back.

PAIRING : kim gyuvin x fem reader

GENRES : fluff, crack, eventual angst, with a happy ending, enemies to lovers au, strangers to lovers au, rich girl au, bakery au, falling in love in france!!

WORD COUNT : 1209 (teaser), estimated to be 20k

SUMMARY : when you pack your bags and move to france on a whim, you don’t expect just how many challenges you’ll meet — whether it’s your difficulty in adjusting to the new country, the harsh truths of the fashion industry, or most infuriatingly, pastry chef kim gyuvin, whose immense talent doesn’t stop you from deeming him the bane of your existence. despite yourself, his shop soon becomes more of a home than you’d like to admit, as gyuvin’s delicious creations and honest words slowly worm their way into your heart and show you that affection is more than just a monetary transaction.

WARNINGS : profanity, might be suggestive, red hair gyuvin x blue hair mc, mc wants to go to fashion school and gyuvin owns a pâtisserie (both are 20), mc is a bad bitch but sometimes superficial/spoiled but!! has char development, gyuvin shows love by being a little shit, i apologize for the banner graphic design is not my passion

AUTHOR'S NOTE : happy gyuvin day!! i wanted to finish this whole fic for his bday but i'm not quite there yet so take this teaser <3 if anyone wants to be tagged for this lmk and i'll start a taglist! i'm super excited to finish this fic even though gyuvin already got rid of his red hair......i will pretend it's still there

"NOT TO BE RUDE OR ANYTHING, BUT COULD YOU MOVE THE CRYING SOMEWHERE ELSE? YOU'RE AFFECTING BUSINESS."

Your mouth falls open. Out of all of the words you expected to hear from the employee with the red hair, these weren't at all what you imagined.

The sheer nerve of a stranger — you can’t help but fume. Your status has led you to experience all sorts of men, most commonly the kind that fall to your feet at first sight, begging you for a mere minute of your time. You’ve unfortunately experienced their rotten sides too, particularly the petty insults and misogyny that come with your industry. You’ve also experienced the raging anger when they realize you take too much pride in yourself to become their dolls.

But to be insulted so brazenly on the first meeting, given your name, your reputation — men do not dare.

“Well, excuse me for choosing your store to have a mental breakdown under. I couldn’t exactly—”

“Excused.”

“What?” You seethe, your face growing hotter by the second.

“You’re excused,” the boy repeats simply, before turning back to the door. “If you want to sit inside, you’re welcome. Please just don’t cry outside of my shop,” he calls over his shoulder.

The door closes behind him before you can even say anything back. You’re frozen in place, shocked by the pure shamelessness of the boy. Surely no manager would let their employee act this way? You’ve never been much of a Karen, but you’re tempted to find out.

Finally, you look inside the store, peering through the glass door. Despite yourself, you’re pleasantly surprised upon the realization that you’ve stopped under a pâtisserie. Although none of the French bakeries have made any lasting impact on you, the decent crowd inside the shop has to amount to something.

A variety of pastries are neatly lined on the glass shelves, clearly crafted with great care and intricacy. Almost all of them are unfamiliar, but your mouth waters anyway. You didn’t even know it was possible to crave something you’ve never had.

You observe a flash of red hair saunter behind a door at the back, and all your cravings disappear. That bitch. You’d rather die than sit inside the shop and let him win, but you cajole yourself with the thought of making a complaint as soon as you find the right person.

You push the door open, greeted by the bell that chimes overhead.

Warmth.

That’s your first impression of the store, and it’s not just the significant temperature difference. Something about the aura of the shop itself, the quiet but contented chatter of customers and the soft music spilling through the overhead speakers — you hate to admit it but it gives you a sense of comfort you were missing in the past three days.

You shake your head. Pull yourself together.

You storm past the line of customers, immediately met with their indignant shouts and protests, and stop in front of the young boy manning the register. His eyes widen, flitting back and forth between you and the customer he was helping.

“Miss, I—I’m sorry but you can’t just cut in line like that…” he trails off nervously. His expression makes you think of a nervous rabbit, cornered by prey twice his size with nowhere to go. Twitchy nose and all. It’s kind of cute, and a part of you feels bad. You know he didn’t do anything wrong, but maybe the intimidation will get him to help you faster.

“I need to speak to your manager.”

The boy balks, clearly unsure how to respond. He covers his confusion with a small smile.

“I’m sure whatever it is, I can assist you. Can I ask what the problem is?”

“Look, I appreciate you trying to help, but the best thing you can do for me is just get me the manager,” you huff. “Please,” you tack on awkwardly, feeling worse at the small flash of hurt in his eyes. The boy nods and leaves, disappearing behind the door at the back of the store.

You tap your foot impatiently, ignoring the string of curses the customers in line direct at you. Already irritated with the amount of time they’re taking, you consider leaving, about to turn around until the door finally swings open.

However, you’re not prepared for the man who emerges from the back. You gape at the sight of the red-haired boy, who raises an eyebrow at the sight of you, giving you an infuriating once-over.

“Is something the matter?” He asks coolly, like he didn’t insult you mere minutes ago. Like you’re just a regular disruption and not — not you. The heir to one of the most widespread fashion companies in the world. The girl with everything.

“I asked for the manager,” you hiss. But the boy’s face only brightens at the word, a casual grin spreading across his face.

“Looks like you’ve found who you’re looking for,” he replies, raising his hands. “Manager by day, chef by night. What can I do for you?”

Your hand clenches into a fist against your will, the need to punch the cheeky smirk off his face overpowering you. You hold yourself back, instead matching his attitude with a sickly sweet smile of your own.

“I thought most managers were aware of basic customer service. But I suppose I expected too much from a hole-in-the-wall place like this,” you simper, watching his face turn the same shade as his hair.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” the man splutters. “I—I have five star reviews on Google!”

You try not to snicker at how quickly you’ve caught him off guard, schooling your expression into something that you hope is cool and unconcerned. “Well then, I’m sure Google would love to hear my thoughts instead. No use being here if I can just put a few dents in those five stars, right?” You shrug noncommittally and turn around.

“Hold on,” the boy says, a hint of desperation in his voice. You face him, trying to smother the smug smile threatening to overtake your features. “Would a free pastry help?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “I don’t know. None of the pastries in Paris have been particularly outstanding to me yet.”

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be a problem here,” he answers, smiling. The smile looks genuine enough, but you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. His gaze is stuck on you — calculating, wary, like he’s still trying to make sense of you. “Yujin-ah!” He calls out without taking his eyes off you. The boy from earlier emerges behind him, refusing to look at you.

“Yeah?” He glances at the redhead with a lingering hint of that bunny-like anxiousness.

“Get her a kouign amann on the house for me, please.” He finally breaks eye contact with you to look at the smaller boy with a gentle smile that you can tell is reserved for him. Yujin nods, hurrying to grab the pastry.

“If it’s not to your liking, you can mention me personally in the review. The name’s Kim Gyuvin,” the redhead says, giving you a maddening wink before walking away. You splutter at him indignantly, but to deaf ears as he vanishes behind the back door.

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begko · 1 year ago

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keep quiet. -seijoh 4

warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else

contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)

wc: 1.2 k

a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!

Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys.

They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience.

Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors.

“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.

Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.

“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!”

Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?”

“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.

“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.

While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.

You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on.

Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.

“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?”

“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.

After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie.

You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?

“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”

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foreverisntenough · 3 months ago

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‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 3- Crossed A Few Lines | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.7k

Your heart raced at his reply. You were both mildly beating around the bush, but there was no denying the pull between you. A shiver ran down your spine, your skin tingling with anticipation. You smiled to yourself, your fingers already flying across the keyboard in response. You knew you were pushing boundaries, stepping into uncharted territory, but a part of you was thrilled by it. You had always wanted to see how far you could go with Trent, and now you were finding out.

The seconds that passed after you sent the message felt like hours. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, loud and fast, and your entire body was alight with anticipation. You didn’t know what would happen next, but you were ready to find out, whatever it might be. He was sitting downstairs in the cinema room with your brother and the boys, trying to keep it together. But after reading that text, there was no staying focused on the movie. He excused himself, saying he wanted a glass of water, but instead, he found himself sneaking upstairs, toward your room. His mind was racing, his pulse thumping in his ears. You heard a soft footstep outside your door and your breath caught in your throat. He knocked lightly but pushed the door open before you had a chance to respond. The doorknob turned slowly and your body tensed with anticipation. Trent stepped into the room, a figure in the dim light, your eyes adjusting to you two alone in your bedroom, taking in his athletic frame and handsome face. This wasn't the first time he'd been in your room, but it was the first time he'd seen you like this-laid out on your bed, bralette barely holding you in. laying there ready for him. His breath caught in his throat.

"What you doing sending me pictures like that?" Trent's voice was low, but you couldn't read whether he was mad or something else entirely. You shifted slightly, suddenly a bit nervous.

"You didn't have to come up," you said, trying to gauge his reaction. Was he angry? Your heart pounded in your chest, waiting for his next move.

"That's not what I said," he replied, stepping closer, eyes darkening. "I'm down there with your brother and our mates, trying not to think about your tits." His voice was rough, and his eyes were lit with something you hadn't seen before. You smirked, knowing you had him.

"Do you like them?" you asked coyly, cupping them and pulling your bralette down a little lower to reveal just about everything you could without being completely exposed. You couldn’t risk that, what if he rejected you again. Trent chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You're fucking dangerous. Where did this confidence come from?" He asked you with a dangerously handsome smile. You sat up slightly, your smirk deepening.

"I've always been like this." You cooed seductively but you couldn’t hold back a slight giggle.

"Nah," he said, stepping even closer. "You've never moved like this before."

"I'd never kissed you before," you pointed out.

"That good, huh?" he teased, clearly loving this back-and-forth. You tilted your head, your eyes locked with his.

"I could ask you the same thing. You're here, aren't you?" Trent laughed softly, the tension between you now thick enough to cut with a knife. He knew the moment he walked into that room, there was no turning back. You were desperate to feel his touch. He padded across the room and climbed onto your bed, and it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. His movements were confident and purposeful. Trent was in your bed! You felt like you were about to black out.

“C’mere.” He commanded you and you shifted, reaching your arm out towards him grabbing the back of his neck as he positioned himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours, and you could feel the hardness of his cock against your thigh. His lips found yours in a hungry kiss, and you moaned into his mouth, your hands gripping his hair as you pulled him closer. Trent's kiss was demanding, possessive, and you loved the way he took control. His tongue teased yours. It was like you could taste the sweetness of the moment you’d longed for. His hands roamed your body, caressing your boobs, your stomach, and thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your nipples pebbled against the thin fabric of your bralette, you arched your back, offering yourself to him. Breaking the kiss, Trent trailed his lips along your jaw and down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He nibbled on your ear, whispering how much he wanted you, and you moaned in response, your body throbbing with need. You felt his hand slip between your thighs, cupping your heat, and you spread your legs instinctively, granting him better access. His fingers teased your clit through your panties, and you bucked your hips, desperate for more.

“You like when I touch you, baby?' he murmured, his voice husky and deep. You’d dreamed of this moment for ages and it was proving to feel better than anything you could’ve imagined.

'Y-yes,' you panted, your eyes screwed shut as you focused on the sensations flooding your body. Trent kissed his way back up to your mouth, silencing your moans with another passionate kiss. His hand moved to unclasp your bralette, the suddenness of the fabric falling off you causing you to gasp. Trent had seen you in bikinis, he’d see you wear tank tops with no bra but this… This was a dream come true. Your tits on full display just for him. He paused, his thumb brushing gently over your peaked nipple, and you whimpered, wanting him to take more. Then, with a swift movement, Trent took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, while his hand squeezed and massaged the other. You cried out, slapping your hand over your mouth to quiet your pleasure, your head throwing back as pleasure spiked through you. You could feel his teeth slight nip the skin, sucking purposefully. He left a hickey on your boob, marking you as his.

“That's the only type of bruise you should be getting from a man… from anyone,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “Got it?” You nodded, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your body tingling with a mixture of pleasure and a sense of protection and ownership. Then, without warning, Trent rolled off the bed. You opened your eyes, your body still buzzing, and watched as he straightened his clothes and ran a hand over his slightly messed up hair.

“I gotta get back downstairs, pretty girl”' he said, a cheeky grin spreading across his face as he looked at your half naked, satisfied form.

“Wait… where are you going?!” You yelped as your chest heaved and your pussy throbbed with need. Just as the intensity was rising, Trent suddenly pulled back. You could see his breathing was just as heavy, his eyes dark with desire. The smug smile still there, one that made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip with frustration. "Trent, what—" you began, but he silenced you with a soft, almost teasing kiss on the forehead, but not without his thumb brushing over the blooming bruising forming from his lips.

"I really should have to go," he said, his voice low and rough, still tinged with the heat of the moment. "They’re going to wonder where I disappeared to." His grin widened, a playful glint in his eyes, as if he was well aware of the effect he was having on you. You blinked, completely taken aback.

"You’re leaving? Now? I… what?" you asked, your voice incredulous. You could hardly believe what you were hearing. You could hardly believe what just happened. You had just been on the edge of something incredible, something you’d been craving for so long, and now he was pulling away? Trent nodded, clearly enjoying the power he held in this moment. He stood as if he’d just won some secret game, his eyes twinkling with mischief. You watched him, your body still tingling with the remnants of the heated encounter, a mixture of shock and frustration bubbling up inside you. "You’re really just going to leave?" you asked again, your voice laced with disbelief. Trent leaned down, his lips teasingly close to yours, hiis thumb moving to trace your cheek.

"For now," he murmured, his lips ghosting yours, his tone promising more. "But trust me, Y/N, I’m not done with you. Not by a long shot." And with that, he turned and slipped out of your room, leaving you lying there, breathless and bewildered. Leaving you alone, nothing more than kisses and a love bite darkening to remember him by. Your hand reached up to touch the mark he'd left on your boob, a reminder of the intense passion that had just played out. A satisfied smile played on your lips as you snuggled into the bed, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. The door clicked shut softly behind him, and you could hear his footsteps receding down the hallway, back toward the laughter and chatter of his friends and your brother downstairs. You stared at the closed door for a moment, your mind racing. You couldn’t believe he’d just walked away, right when things had started to get good. A mix of frustration and longing coursed through you, making you roll over in bed with a groan. You buried your face in your pillow, feeling the heat still lingering on your skin where his hands had been.

"Ugh, Trent," you muttered, half-exasperated, half-amused into the now empty room. He had left you wanting more, and he knew it. You couldn’t decide whether to be angry or impressed by his restraint—or maybe his nerve. But one thing was certain: he’d lit a fire within you, and you knew he was right this was far from over. As you got ready for sleep, you wondered what the morning would bring and whether Trent would be back for more. The possibilities were endless, and the anticipation was already building for another encounter. You need to get yourself off after that because you weren’t sure you’d ever been so horny or wet in your life and he only kissed you. You guessed being left needy was better than being left without him at all.

And so the floodgates had finally opened. Things were much better between you two than they were after the rejected kiss at the club which was great except now the uncertainty and the possibility of when and if he’d ever kiss you again loomed. The air was thick all the time. So what now? After that stolen moment in your bedroom, you couldn’t stop thinking about Trent. Every glance, every word shared between you was now charged with a new electricity. So when the next movie night rolled around, you found yourself eagerly anticipating Trent's arrival. The minute he walked in, the air seemed to crackle with unspoken tension, a shared secret that only the two of you understood. As everyone settled in for the film, Trent offered to share his blanket with you, a casual smile on his lips. Without a second thought, you slipped under it, your body naturally leaning into his. The dark cinema room felt cozy and intimate, the movie playing softly in the background. You nestled closer to him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, his arm slipping around your shoulders, pulling you in tight. It was so dark in the room no one could see just how close you’d gotten. You were tucked away in the back of the room, hiding from the other boys and hiding from how much you were excited by this. The room buzzed with murmured conversations and laughter, the movie flickering on the big screen. But to you, it was all background noise. You and Trent were tangled up together under the blanket, caught in a kind of intimacy you hadn't allowed yourself to imagine, even with all the flirtation and stolen glances. You’d always sat together but this? This was new. As you drew your knee closer to him, his fingers dug slightly into your thigh, grounding you with a touch that sent your heart racing.

"Can you just-" he grumbled, gently grabbing your leg and pulling it over him fully, letting you feel the firmness of his thigh under yours. "Your knee was digging into me." He smirked, his voice hush.

"Sorry," you laughed, but the apology didn't feel genuine. You wanted to be close, closer than you had been, closer than maybe you should’ve been. "Are you sure this is... okay?" you asked, glancing up at him, your voice softer than you meant it to be. His gaze held yours, intense but teasing.

"Y/N, you're good," he murmured, his fingers squeezing your thigh as if to reassure you— and then pulling you even closer. "Just come here, yeah? And shh." That small smile, that bit of warmth in his eyes, it gave you all the permission you needed. You leaned into him fully, your body curling up next to his as he adjusted the blanket, his arm draped protectively over you, and his hand resting on your hip. His fingers grazed your skin just above the waistband of your shorts, making your pulse thrum louder than the movie. You couldn't hide your smile, feeling bold and bashful all at once. Then, without really meaning to, you moved your hand over his abs, tracing the outline of muscles under his shirt. It felt natural, like you'd done it a hundred times, though the thrill in your chest reminded you that you hadn't. Trent let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at you. Absentmindedly you let it drift a little too low for Trent to be able to manage.

"You’re not watching. I told you you’d like this one.” he smiled again, one brow arched with that familiar, teasing glint in his eye. He picked up your hand and moved it up a little bit. You sheepishly let your eyes shut, feeling awkward that your hand was unintentionally so close to somewhere you were dying to explore but knew that this was definitely not the place for.

"I’m tired," you shrugged lazily trying to move away from the tension, giving a little smile, your voice soft as your hand remained on him just marginally less suggestive. It was almost like you were in two conversations. One spoken, one physical.

“I'll fill you in, alright?" He pulled you even closer, his voice low as he murmured, There was something in his tone that made your heart skip—a promise in the words that went beyond explaining a plotline. His hand moved lower on your hip, fingers dipping under the waistband of your shorts just slightly, warm and firm against your skin. It felt like the start of something, an unspoken acknowledgment of what had been building between you.

"Thank you." Your voice dropped to a whisper, playful but shaky with the thrill of it all. His eyes met yours with a look that made your breath hitch. You weren’t really thanking him for the offer but rather what his hands were doing. Reassurance. He had just given you reassurance that your hands on him were okay. He hummed, his tone rich and warm, a slight smile tugging at his lips. His hand traveled a little lower, grazing over your ass beneath the blanket, his fingers pressing into you in a way that made your whole body tense with anticipation.The energy between you was thick, charged in a way you couldn't ignore. His thumb brushed over your skin slowly, each stroke sending waves of heat through you as he molded his hand to your curves. You glanced up at him, not bothering to hide your reaction anymore. And then, without saying a word, he leaned back and guided your head to his chest, pulling you into him fully. His hand stayed possessive on your hip, his fingers lazily tracing circles, his touch both gentle and thrilling. You settled against him, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. You yawned quietly, the warmth and security of his embrace lulling you into a drowsy state as you rested against him. You felt your eyelids growing heavy, yet every brush of his hand on your skin kept you alert, the push and pull of relaxation and excitement making your head swim.

"Okay?" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper as his fingers drifted up your side and back down, lingering at the edge of your waistband.

"I like your hands on me," you whispered, emboldened by the warmth of his embrace and the way he was holding you like you were his to protect. Trent chuckled softly, his breath warm on the top of your head. Your lips parted to say more, but no words came out. You wanted to say something, to let him know how you felt, but his arms around you spoke for themselves. So, instead, you closed your eyes, your body melting further into him as his hand slipped under the waistband of your shorts once more, more daring this time. His fingers brushed over the curve of your ass, his touch possessive yet tender, a promise that you were the only thing on his mind.

"Shhh," he whispered, his tone teasing but comforting. "Relax" He cooed, telling you that you didn’t need to talk, not right now. And as you lay there, wrapped up in his arms, the line between you disappeared entirely. His hand traced lazy patterns on your skin, each touch soft and lingering, leaving you breathless yet more at peace than you'd felt in ages. You closed your eyes, letting yourself fall into the warmth of him, knowing that things between you had changed and would never be the same. The film ticked on as you were curled up against Trent, head resting on his chest, peacefully asleep. Noah went to grab something to drink and spotted your oh so cozy moment. He grinned, unable to help himself.

“Lads, I feel like I pulled the short straw in this friendship,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. “How does Trenty end up with Y/N on top of him for a movie night?” Noah cheekily spoke, not loud, but enough for all the boys to hear, but quiet enough for you to stay asleep. Trent tried to keep a straight face, shrugging it off as the rest of the boys chuckled. Jack, however, didn’t laugh. His eyebrows furrowed, and he turned around, finally noticing the cozy scene unfolding on the couch. You’d always sat next to Trent but this… This was a proper cuddle.

“Hey—” Trent held up his hands defensively, moving them slightly away from you, though he’d definitely been resting his hand all over you a moment ago. “Innocent, alright?” he mumbled, hoping Jack wouldn’t press too hard.

“Isn’t she in those—” another friend piped up with a smirk, catching himself just in time as he met Jack’s warning glare. You were in tiny biker shorts, and the guys clearly noticed, but Trent’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking to Jack before shooting his friend a look of caution.

“Mate,” Trent muttered under his breath, the unspoken warning clear. Jack shook his head, his expression softening just slightly but not enough to let you two off the hook.

“Embarrassing. Y/N, get the fuck up,” he said, voice half-exasperated, half-amused as he swatted toward you, though he didn’t make any real effort to wake you. Trent looked down at you for a second, his arm slyly stayed around you as if he couldn't bare to part and selfishly he didn’t want to disturb you because he didn't want you to move.

“She’s not bothering me, mate,” he replied casually. “Honest.” Jack groaned, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the movie.

“Gross. Just keep your fucking hands to yourself, bro.” he muttered, though there was an undertone of resignation, like he was used to this now knowing there was a line that hadn’t been crossed. A satisfied smirk crept onto Trent’s face, and he shifted slightly under you, settling you more comfortably against him. He glanced at Noah, daring him to say anything more. Trent tried to be nonchalant but whatever unspoken thing existed between you had come bubbling up to the surface. Jack cared too much about you to embarrass you or to wake you right now. You were his little sister but that line often blurred when it came to things like your relationship with boys. Often, he acted as a best friend, he’d listen to you rant about how bad a guy was at flirting and he’d enjoy it and then other times you’d simply wear something he didn’t like and big brother Jack would storm back. Depended on his mood, depended on what he thought of the guy involved. Jack didn’t see Trent as a threat and so he let you stayed as is. As Noah walked out of the room he got closer to Trent and you.

“How focused are you right now trying not to get hard?” He laughed in a lower voice joking with Trent. This humor wasn’t new. Sure, did Noah push boundaries a lot, yes, he knew the time and place for it though. But Jack always was a good sport, probably better than most would be because up til now no one dared try anything with you. He knew you were objectively pretty and boys liked you. He’d be naive to think otherwise and so he took his friends' jokes light heartedly and just as that… jokes. Trent’s face got a little flushed from Noah’s teasing.

“Mate…” he murmured with a look that said don’t push it, but Noah’s grin only grew. Jack turned back from the screen, catching the exchange. He chuckled,

“You better not be, Trentski,” though he laughed it off, turning back to the movie, clearly not sensing anything serious. Jack had long written off the way you and Trent interacted as harmless banter. He’d seen you two sit together during movie nights before, even team up during games, and he figured it was just easy camaraderie. Like another older brother figure in his innocence. Though lately, Trent was acting far from like a brother to you. The guys finally simmered down, letting the movie carry on in silence. You shifted in your sleep, snuggling deeper into Trent, and his arm instinctively curled around you. Jack glanced over to check if you’d woken up yet but found you even more comfortably nestled into Trent’s chest. But Trent still remained coy, the arm under the blanket stroking your skin, the one out of it showing innocence. Jack shook his head, unable to hide a grin.

“Such a baby,” he teased, looking at you. Then, with a chuckle, he nudged Trent’s foot with his own. “Seriously, man, wake her up. She’s heavy, bro.” He teased using something false about you as an excuse but Trent kept his gaze on the screen, giving a casual shrug.

“Yeah, I will after the film. She’s fine,” he replied nonchalantly, though his hand shifted protectively around you. Jack started to object, a glimmer of confusion crossing his face, but the movie pulled his attention back just as a loud crash exploded on screen. As the film’s intensity increased, Trent’s attention stayed divided—partly on the screen but mostly on you, feeling your warm weight leaning into him. The tension was undeniable, yet somehow it felt natural, like an unspoken secret only the two of you shared, hidden in plain sight. You nestled in closer, murmuring his name with a sleepy whimper, oblivious to everything around you. Your quiet murmur of ‘T’ melted into the air. Your body shifted against him naturally, instinctively, pressing into his warmth like you belonged there. Trent froze, his entire body tensing at the way your breath brushed his neck, at the gentle graze of your lips along his collarbone. His hand hovered, uncertain, before he finally placed it back down on your waist steadying you. Trent's hand moved reflexively, slipping just beneath the edge of your shirt, his fingers brushing the bare skin of your waist.as But the warmth of your skin, the subtle weight of you against him, sent a shiver through him he couldn't hide. At first, he thought maybe he'd imagined it-that your soft, whispered ‘T’ was just some sleepy mumble, meaningless. But then you did it again, and the way you shifted, nestling even closer, made his pulse race. Your body had moved in a slow, subtle grind, your warmth pressed against his thigh, and Trent's hand tightened instinctively, his fingers digging slightly into your hip to keep you in place. He swallowed hard, glancing around. Noah and Jack and the other boys were all engrossed in the movie, thankfully oblivious to the tension simmering under the blanket between you and Trent. He let out a silent breath of relief, but his mind was racing. Every nerve screamed at him to move, to put a little distance between you and him before he lost control. He couldn’t though, he loved this.

You had conked out like a light, comforted by his embrace but exhausted from your week. You were a heavy sleeper and right now the only thing occupying your mind was the last thing you thought before you fell asleep. Trent. You remembered the way he felt in your bedroom and now he was underneath you. Your subconscious was in overdrive. And then you murmured again, a barely audible whine, and his grip on your hip tightened just slightly, holding you close. His thoughts spun as he tried to focus on the movie, on anything other than the way you felt against him, but it was impossible. His heart pounded with the overwhelming urge to pull you fully onto his lap, to guide you through the motions you were making so innocently in your sleep. The things he wanted to whisper in your ear... ‘Just like that,’ or ‘Good girl, keep going’ -things that made him clench his jaw as he struggled to stay in control. You shifted again, pressing your warmth more firmly against his thigh, and Trent's breath hitched. He knew he was in trouble, his body responding in ways that left no doubt about how he felt. He couldn't help it, couldn't help how much he wanted this, wanted you, and the fact that you were dreaming of him only fueled the fire simmering beneath the surface. He was so fucking hard he didn’t know what to do. But he couldn't do anything, not with everyone around, he couldn’t wake you up. So instead, he leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment to steady his breathing. He kept his hand on your hip, holding you protectively, as if to shield you both from the rest of the world. He could feel the weight of your trust, the warmth of your skin, and as his thumb brushed your hip absentmindedly, he felt himself sinking deeper into the feeling of having you so close. Just when he thought he might regain some control, you let out another soft sound, shitting closer. The sensation sent a jolt through him, and he found himself nearly holding his breath, praying no one would notice as he gently caressed your skin, savoring the warmth of you against him. The movie played on, but for him, everything else had faded. You were all he could focus on. Finally, he forced himself to ease back, though his hand lingered on your hip. With a deep, steadying breath, he whispered just barely above a murmur, "You have no idea, do you?"

When you finally stirred from your sleep, the movie’s credits rolling softly in the background, you were met with the gentle pressure of Trent’s lips brushing your forehead. The warmth of the kiss sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a rush of exhilaration, your heart fluttering wildly. It was instinct, it just happened. It was a tender moment, more intimate than anything you’d ever shared before. The simplicity of the gesture made you want to scream and call Layla immediately to share the excitement. You blinked awake, taking in the dimly lit room and the familiar sound of soft laughter and muted conversations. Although the boys had dispersed after the film ended—two had left the house, Noah had fallen asleep, another was starting a second movie, and Jack had already gone to bed. The room was quieter now, a calm settling over the space. You turned your gaze to Trent up, who was still holding you close. His arm was wrapped securely around you, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your back. You shyly smiled up at him, the playful glint in his eyes matched by your own. You tried to act casual as you settled back into Trent, even though you were now acutely aware of every little shift, every breath, and the heat radiating between you. His hand hadn't moved from your waist, grounding you, sending a subtle but undeniable thrill through you with the gentle squeeze he'd given just before you tried to sit up.

"Comfortable?" he asked quietly, his voice laced with a kind of warmth that melted any lingering awkwardness between you. Trent chuckled, low and soft, his breath brushing over the top of your head. You bit your lip, nodding with a shy smile.

"Yeah... sorry for just falling asleep on you." You awkwardly told him feeling a bit guilty but not enough to move.

"Don't be. I didn't mind," he murmured, his fingers trailing lightly along your back. "Couldn't bring myself to wake you up, honestly. You seemed like you had a good sleep." He chirped recalling just* how comfortable you had gotten. You were unaware of how much of your hand you’d shown. Nevertheless, you leaned into him again, the warmth of his chest so inviting that it made your eyelids grow heavy. Glancing around, you could see Noah fast asleep on the other side of the room, the glow of the screen casting soft shadows.

"Maybe I should get to my room..." you whispered, knowing it was probably the right thing to do but reluctant to move still.

"Nah," Trent's voice was barely more than a murmur as he held you in place, his hand warm and steady on your hip, "Stay here with me." It was then you became keenly aware of the pressure against your thigh, the firm presence of him, his hard length, and a spark of curiosity and excitement flared in you. You stifled a soft gasp, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment, and as you nestled closer, his grip on your waist tightened, as if he didn't want you to go anywhere. "Not gonna watch?" he teased softly, his voice carrying that familiar note of playful challenge, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hip. Your gaze was set completely opposite of the screen. You shook your head with a shy smile, realizing your attention was entirely elsewhere. You could feel his eyes on you as you adjusted slightly, shifting so that your hand landed just over his lap, you palmed over his bulge but you didn’t do anything more. You were testing the waters. The slight intake of his breath didn't go unnoticed, nor did the way his gaze lingered, darker, more intent than you'd ever seen before.

"Okay," you whispered, cheeks flushing as you turned toward the screen, feigning interest while your hand subtly shifted, brushing over him going a bit further. His eyes flickered down, and for a moment, he looked like he was holding his breath, his gaze smoldering as he watched your every move. You felt bold, bolder than you ever had before, and the thrill of it only intensified as he let his hand slide lower, settling on the curve of your thigh. His fingers pressed gently, almost possessively, sending a shiver up your spine as you leaned back into him, the subtle tension between you deepening with each shared glance and unspoken touch. You stayed like that for a while. Hidden by the darkness of the room and the blanket. The movie played on, but for the two of you, it was as though everything else had fallen away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the moment. Trent's breath hitched as he felt you press against him, his face buried in the crook of your neck as if grounding himself. His fingers slid around your waist, holding you close, a quiet sigh escaping him as he struggled to keep his composure. He could feel you about to speak. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes warm and teasing.

"Should I go... or...?" you asked softly, your voice barely a whisper. Trent's lips curled into a smirk as his gaze softened. You were asking a question with only one correct answer and you prayed he knew that.

"Stay with me. Seriously. In my room tonight," he murmured, his tone inviting but playful. It wasn’t uncommon for the boys to use one of the guest rooms to crash if it was late, but tonight, the invitation felt charged with a different kind of energy. You hesitated for a moment, the tension between you palpable. It was clear that both of you were aware of the risks, the potential complications of crossing that line. But the pull between you was undeniable. The warmth, the closeness, and the flirtatious banter were too tempting to resist. You felt a thrill go through you, the weight of what he was asking settling in.

"Okay," you whispered, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, your cheeks flushed.

"Yeah?" he asked, brushing his nose against yours as his hand skimmed up your back under your shirt. "You wanna come sleep with me?" He asked through a whisper. You nodded, the warmth in his gaze making you feel bold and nervous all at once. He grinned, his voice dropping low. "Can't be this shy, though. Not in my bed."

"I won't be," you promised, your words barely audible but carrying a weight you both felt. You glanced around the room quickly to make sure everyone was still asleep, then leaned in, letting your lips find his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but then his hand found the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into him. You melted against him as he responded, his lips warm and inviting, and the room faded away, leaving just the two of you tangled in that quiet, breathless moment.

"C’mon" he whispered against your mouth, pulling back just enough to take your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The two of you got up off the couch, the boundary between friendship and something more blurring as you both stood up quietly, knowing full well that the night and your relationship was about to change. He led you down the hallway, both of you trying to settle your racing hearts and keep quiet. As you and Trent quietly snuck down the dim hallway, he was right behind you, his presence warm and magnetic. You felt his hands slip around your waist, pulling you closer.

"If you don't want this, you need to tell me now. Because once we start, I'm not going to be able to stop myself." His breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in and whispered. The gravity of his words sent a rush through you, and you knew he meant every bit of it. Your heart hammered in your chest. This was really going to happen. Finally, you slipped into the guest room. Trent shut the door behind you softly, the sound barely registering as he turned and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you into him. It was obvious both of you were caught in the shared thrill of the forbidden. You looked around the room, taking in the stillness, and then back at Trent, who was watching you, eyes filled with lust, disbelief, and excitement all rolled into one. His gaze intense as he faced you, his hands reaching out to pull you close. His hands roamed over your sides, and you leaned into his touch with a soft, unbidden moan.

"Oh my god," you whimpered, feeling his fingers explore, his touch leaving trails of warmth. A quiet, smug chuckle slipped from his lips.

"Gotta be quiet for me," he murmured, brushing his thumb along your jawline, his voice low and teasing. You exhaled a shaky breath,

"We can't go back after this, T." You cautioned him. There was a flicker of hesitation, a weight to the words, and you looked up, the heat and the excitement dancing in your gaze.

"I don't want to go back," he said, his hands pressing firmly against your back, drawing you closer until there was no space between you. "You want this? You want me?" His voice was rough and needy, the vulnerability almost hidden under his intensity. Without another word, you closed the distance between you, your mouth capturing his in a kiss that said everything you couldn't put into words.

“So fucking bad," you murmured against his lips. The kiss deepened, growing more intense as his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you against him until you could feel every inch of him pressed to you. Every touch, every kiss felt like it had been building for years, and with each moment, the tension only heightened. Trent's hands roamed possessively, his touch a promise, while his lips moved with a hunger that left you breathless. In that room, with the door shut and the world outside, it was as if nothing else mattered but you and him, and the weight of everything you both had kept hidden. He pushed you up against the wall. You felt the hard plane of his chest against your soft tits, and your nipples immediately pebbled, betraying your desire. His hands were on your waist, and you could feel his breath on your neck as he nuzzled your scent. "T," you moaned, your eyes closing as you leaned back against the wall, offering yourself to him. He growled low in his throat, a sound that sent shivers down your spine, and then his mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting, marking you as his. You whimpered, your hands gripping his hair, encouraging him, wanting more.

"I've want you, baby," he murmured, his voice hoarse with need. "Want to know what you taste like, feel like, everywhere." His hands moved up your body, cupping your tits, thumbing your hard nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Take it off," you pleaded. "Please, Trent." You actually felt like you might have a heart attack, you just were so shocked his hands were actually on you. Finally, Your heart was beating so fast. His response was to pull your shirt over your head with an ease you didn’t know possible. He stepped back to admire the view, your full boobs spilling out of your lace bra, and then he sank in front of you, taking one hard peak and then the other into his hot mouth. You cried out, your hands fisting in his hair, holding him to you as he sucked and nipped, his hands squeezing and kneading your soft flesh. You could feel your pussy getting wet, could feel the juices running down your thigh, and you knew he could smell your arousal.

“Shhh, baby," he said, looking up at you with dark, heated eyes. "Gotta be quiet if you want me to keep going.” He cooed gently. He was so in control and you were so… not. You nodded but then his mouth trailed down your stomach, licking and kissing a path down to the waistband of your shorts. Being quiet was starting to feel like and impossible task. He hooked his fingers into the fabric and tugged, slowly stripping you, his eyes never leaving yours. You stepped out of your biker shorts and kicked them away, now dressed only in your bra and panties. "So fucking gorgeous," he growled, his eyes roaming over your body. "Been wanting to see you like this for so fucking long, just for me to see." He stood then, and you could see the bulge in his pants, could see how much he wanted you. You reached for him, needing to feel his hard length in your hand. He moaned as you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him slowly, gently.

"You like when I touch you?" you asked, your voice a whisper. It was teasing but it was also a genuine question. You two had never done this before. You felt like you were on another planet. It almost didn't make sense

"Fuck, yeah," he hissed, his hips bucking into your hand. "But I want to feel your mouth. I want you to be a good girl f’me tonight. Can you do that f’me?" He asked and you nodded. You didn't need to be told twice. You sank to your knees in front of him, your eyes never leaving his, and then you took him into your mouth, sucking and teasing, your tongue flicking over the sensitive head of his cock. He tasted his pre cum and it had you wanting more. You moaned as you took him deeper, your hands cupping his heavy balls. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding you but not forcing you. "Good girl. Suck my cock. Just like that" A part of Trent was confused that those words flowed out of his mouth so easily to you… to Jack’s little sister but he couldn’t stop them, he couldn’t not twitch at the way your tongue felt on him. This was everything he wanted. You hollowed your cheeks and bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each stroke, your free hand wrapping around the base of his shaft, stroking and twisting as you sucked. You could feel his thighs trembling, knew he was close, and you wanted to taste him. After a while, Trent couldn’t manage any longer. "I'm gonna cum... Fuck baby, gonna make me cum," he warned, his voice tight with need. You sucked harder, faster, and with a muted roar, he came, flooding your mouth with his hot cum. You swallowed it all, moaning with pleasure as you milked him dry, your hands and mouth gentle as he rode out his orgasm. Slowly, he helped you to your feet, his eyes burning with desire, and then he kissed you, deep and hard, his tongue dueling with yours as he claimed your mouth. You could taste yourself on him, and it only made you hungrier for more. Breaking the kiss, he picked you up and carried you to the bed. He laid you on the mattress, crawling over you, his lips and tongue trailing down your body. He pushed your bra up, baring your tits, and took a nipple into his hot mouth, sucking and biting as his fingers pinched and pulled the other peak. You moaned and arched your back, your hands grabbing his hair, holding him to you as he lavished attention on your sensitive flesh. He suckled you like a man starving, his hands roaming over your body, squeezing and caressing, learning every inch of you.

"Please," you whimpered, your need building. "Trent, I need—" He cut you off by tugging your panties down your legs and settling between your thighs.

"I know what you need." He hooked your legs over his shoulders and blew a hot breath over your wet center, making you shiver in anticipation. "God, you're so fucking wet f'me," he groaned, his tongue dipping into your slit and tasting your essence. His mouth was magic, his tongue probing and flicking your clit, licking and sucking your juices, delving into your hole and fucking you with his tongue. You moaned and writhed beneath him, your hands gripping the bed sheets as he ate you like he'd never be allowed to taste you again.

"T please," you begged, your body tightening, coiling like a spring. "I'm close, so close." You whined. He hummed against your clit, sending vibrations through your sensitive flesh, and that was all it took. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as you came, your pussy clenching and releasing around his probing tongue.

"Good girl." He murmured against you. Slowly, he let you down, kissing and licking his way back up your body, and then he was beside you, pulling you into his arms, your heads pillowed on his broad chest. You could feel his heart thundering in his chest, could feel his heavy cock pressed against your thigh. "Oh my fucking god" you whispered, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. You felt dizzy form the best orgasm of your life and the fact that you were naked in front of Jack’s best friend.

"You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, baby." He told you and you hummed, unable to get anything more concrete out. “Not done with you.” He growled, his hands skimming down your back to cup your bare ass. "I want to feel that tight pussy around my cock." You shivered at his words, a bolt of need shooting straight to your core.

"Please, T," you begged, your voice thick with need. "I want you inside me." You begged. He rolled you onto your back and positioned himself between your thighs, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your slippery slit. You whimpered, spreading your legs wider, cradling his balls with your thighs, urging him on.

"Condom," you whispered, your eyes searching his. With a nod, he rolled onto his back, giving you access to check the nightstand drawer, praying something would be in there. You scrambled out of bed and retrieved a condom, your naked body on full display. You’d think about why there were some in the room to begin with later because right now you weren’t complaining. He growled at the sight of you, his eyes roaming over your curves appreciatively. Back in bed, you sheathed him in latex, your hands stroking and petting, enjoying the weight and length of him in your hand.

"Come here... right now," he commanded you, his voice rough with need. Crawling onto the bed, you straddled his hips, positioning yourself over him. Slowly, you sank down, taking him inch by inch, filling yourself with his thick cock. "Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his eyes rolling back as you took him all the way to the hilt. “Good girl.” You moaned, biting your lip as you adjusted to his size, your inner muscles clenching around him. Slowly, you started to move, rising up and sinking back down, riding him with slow, deep strokes. Your tits bounced with each movement, your hard nipples rubbing against his chest. Trent's hands came up to cup your tits, massaging and squeezing as your hips worked, your bodies slapping together in a lewd, wet rhythm. "Always wanted to fuck you, baby," he confessed, his eyes burning into yours. "Been wanting this for so long."

"Shit, shit -Me too - shit - so fucking long," you admitted, your head falling back as the pleasure built. You didn’t know it was possibly for sex to feel so good. Something so wrong but so right about this. "Oh, T… Fuck this feels so good. Fuck, this is so good." You quickened your pace, riding him faster, harder, your juices flowing freely as your body worked towards another climax. Trent's hands moved down your body, one squeezing your breast, the other rubbing your swollen clit in time with your hips. This was so forbidden and it was making it all the hotter.

"Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice thick with his own need. "Cum on my cock. Gonna fill this tight pussy with my cum.” His words sent you over the edge, and you cried out, your body shaking as you came around him, your pussy milking his cock. You’d never heard Trent talk like this and it had your brain short circuiting and evidently your pussy clenching tighter. With a groan, Trent joined you, filling the condom with his release, his hips bucking up to meet your downward strokes. Spent, you collapsed on top of him, your breath ragged, your heart racing. He held you tightly, kissing your sweaty forehead, stroking your hair, your bodies still joined. Hi hands stroking over your sore muscles.

"That was—" you started, but he cut you off with a kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth, tasting of you.

"Not nearly enough, baby," he whispered, his eyes dark and full of promise. "Not nearly." He rolled you over and you giggled as you made out with him, your arm awkwardly reaching to the bedside table again tapping around until your hand found another condom. “You don't fucking understand how long I’ve wanted you. I need more of you.” Trent told you kissing your neck as your arched into him, helping him put on another condom.

“I've needed this forever, I need more, T. I need you." You answered him with a whine. He hummed in agreement but bit down onto your sensitive skin. You moaned loving every second of this, the fear and risk of it all faded and covered up by the passion and pleasure. You needed more of him and so Trent gave you more. He fucked you again and again till you ran down to the last spare condom. You had orgasm you didn't know were possible; earth shattering, squirting, convulsing, life changing.

“I’m the only one that gets to make you cum like this.” He whispered against your skin slick and shiny after what you would consider a workout. Your pussy sore and throbbing from orgasm after orgasm.

“You’re the only one who ever has.” You breathily giggled. The night’s darkness wrapped around you as you laid tangled with Trent, still basking in the warmth of each other's presence. You shifted slightly, and he caught your gaze, smirking with that signature confidence. "T… this was…I’ve never cum like that before in my life," you admitted, half laughing, half in disbelief at yourself for even saying it. The smirk that grew on Trent’s face was so obnoxious and so handsome you couldn’t believe it. "Oh god, l've fed the beast, haven’t I?" you sighed, trying to downplay the flattery you'd just given him.

"Nah, nah, just tell me it was the best sex of your life, it’s fine," he laughed, clearly amused.

"Stop!" you swatted playfully at his bare chest, cheeks warm from both laughter and lingering shyness. He pulled you in closer, his arms wrapping around you with ease.

"C'mere," he murmured, voice softer now. "I'm kidding. Just want to make you to feel good, baby. I’m glad I was able to." He kissed the top of your head and then said, "I'll tell you something, how about that...”

"Hm?" You looked up, curious.

"Never came that hard in my life. That head? The first time I came inside? Fucking hell, baby. Fighting for me life,” he confessed with a low chuckle, eyes softening as he looked down at you.

"Really?" you asked, the innocence in your tone betraying just how surprised you were.

"Y/N, you've been flirting with me for 10 years," he laughed, shaking his head as if the entire situation was surreal even to him. "I was dying." You giggled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"I thought you lasted a long time… longer than I thought you might.” You giggled.

"Oh, well I'm glad you think that." He grinned, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. You gave him a playful smile, nudging his shoulder.

"A very valiant effort." You smiled. He raised an eyebrow, leaning in close.

"Mm, so best sex of your life?" He teased. But the thing was… it probably was true.

"Shut up!" You laughed, burying your face into the pillow. But then, after a beat, you nodded. "But yeah was top." You laid draped over him, feeling his warmth seep into you as your heart started to slow.

“Yeah, Top.” He concurred quietly. You shifted a little, clearing your throat.

"I guess I should..." you began, feeling a slight wave of shyness creep back in.

"Nah, Y/N…" Trent's voice was soft but firm, a small smile tugging at his lips as he pulled you closer. "Stay here with me for a bit. I don’t want… just stay. Gotta make sure you're good after all that.” A smile spread across your face as you nuzzled into him, settling comfortably against his chest. You knew it’d be a bad idea to sleep in the room, making the risk of getting caught much larger but leaving so soon felt weird. Trent could sense that tension. It was… awkward in the logistics but not in the feelings blooming.

"Okay," you murmured, letting yourself sink into the moment. You felt so comfortable with him but it was also simultaneously terrifying. Both emotions coexisting and fighting for the top spot.

"Such a good girl f'me," he muttered, his fingers tracing light circles on your back. The comment made your heart skip a beat, though you tried to brush it off. In any other situation you wouldn’t have batted an eye but now in post nut clarity you were almost shocked hearing that come out of his mouth again.

"You can't call me that anymore," you said with a giggle, feeling a little flustered, though it was hard to deny how much you liked it.

"What?" he laughed, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Baby, we're in bed. I think we've crossed a few lines here."

"Yeah, but it's..." you trailed off, trying to come up with a reason, but the words slipped away as he looked at you.

"C'mon. You were so good f'me, taking my cock," he teased, the smirk on his lips both infuriating and irresistibly charming. The memory of the way his hands had explored you, how he knew exactly how to make you fall apart, sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed, feeling your muscles tense as you tried to come up with a retort, but before you could say anything, he brought a finger to your lips. "Shhh," he murmured, "you like being a good girl for me. It's okay. Just lay here.” And so you took his finger in your mouth teasingly. He had you and he had you acting like a complete mess for the dick he just gave you. The way he looked at you, his eyes half-lidded and full of a quiet, possessive affection, made your pulse quicken. And as you lay there, the weight of what had just happened settled around you. It was a dangerous game you were playing, but at that moment, wrapped in Trent's arms, it felt like the only place you wanted to be. You fell asleep like that tangled with him. It was the best sleep of your life. Your body sore but you’d never felt more alive.

“Shit…” you mumbled as the soft morning light filtered through the guest room curtains, casting a faint glow over you and Trent as you woke, wrapped in each other’s arms. You were still half-asleep, but the weight of the situation hit you all at once—the fact that you were cuddling with Trent in your house while your brother, Jack, was likely just upstairs, god, you prayed not downstairs yet. Panic fluttered in your chest as you glanced at the clock on your phone. “I have to go,” you whispered, trying to sound casual, but the urgency in your voice betrayed you.

“Nah.” Trent’s response was a lazy, contented hum as he buried his face into your neck, pressing a kiss against your skin. It was so bad how good that felt.

“I have to go soon,” you corrected yourself, trying to wriggle free, but Trent’s arms only tightened around you.

“Definitely not soon,” he murmured, his lips trailing against your collarbone. You laughed softly, even though your heart was racing.

“What? Do you have some sort of death wish? Jack would kill us both if he found out.” Trent grinned, his hands gently caressing your back under the covers.

“At least we’d die together.” He cooed. You tilted your head to look at him, surprised by how calm he was.

“You’d really risk it? For a cuddle?” His brow furrowed slightly, a look of confusion crossing his face.

“Mmm.” He hummed with a sleepy raspiness.

“You never struck me as a cuddle person.” You smiled letting your hands run over his arm skin.

“What are you on about? I’ve cuddled with you before.” He smirked knowing very well this was a radically different type of cuddle. You were naked.

“Yeah, but that was… innocent, right?” You asked, suddenly unsure. Everything felt different now—charged with the weight of what had happened between you.

“Was it really though?” Trent smirked, raising an eyebrow. Your eyes widened as your stomach did a little flip.

“I don’t know!” you yelped, your voice half a laugh, half a nervous squeak. He shifted slightly, turning to face you more fully. He said your name slowly, and your pulse quickened as he locked eyes with you. The conversation shifted from what you were doing now to talking about what you had been doing before.

“Come on. I always cuddle with you because it felt right. I feel like we have a good time, I like spending time with you, and…” He hesitated for a second before continuing, his voice dropping lower. “I didn’t exactly mind if it led somewhere.” Your breath caught in your throat at the openness of his words. His hands continued to trace soft patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You could feel your cheeks warming, and you looked away shyly.

“I don’t mind any of those reasons,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Good,” Trent whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, pulling you even closer. Giving in to the temptation, you let your fingers continue their slow, teasing dance across Trent's chest, savoring the feeling of his skin under your fingertips. His breath hitched as you traced over every ridge of muscle, and you could feel his body heat rising with each delicate stroke. "Alright. Stopppp," Trent groaned, his voice low and husky, but his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer instead of pushing you away. His head fell back against the pillow, a helpless laugh escaping his lips. "You always do this. You’re turning me on. Stop!" He whined complaining in typical Trent fashion.

"Do what?" you teased, feigning innocence but unable to hide the smirk playing on your lips. He shook his head, glancing down at you with a mix of frustration and affection in his eyes.

"This. The nails, the way you touch me, like you don't know exactly what it does to me. You drag your nails over me in specific spots you know will get me thinking. You do this everytime we just chill or like even if we’re taking photos! You’re such a tease!” He accused you, his voice trailing off, his hands slipping beneath the blankets to rest on your hips, fingers tightening just slightly. "You're always teasing me.” He smirked. Your manicure pulling across his skin. Your smile widened teasingly, dragging your nails across his chest again, but slower this time, more deliberate. Trent's groan was deep, the kind that sent shivers down your spine. “Ohhh so you know you’re doing this? Wow I see. Innocent cuddles such bullshit from you as well.” He laughed, shaking his head. His hand on you slipped higher, skimming your waist. His touch was possessive, warm, and the way his fingers brushed your skin set your pulse racing. He let out a breath, as if trying to compose himself, but you could see the effect you had on him. "You're not as innocent as you pretend to be," he said, tilting his head to look at you more seriously, his lips twitching with amusement. "You know exactly what you're doing." You giggled, leaning into his chest, feeling your cheeks warm as you tried to keep your composure.

"Okay, maybe I do a little," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"A little?" He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing.

“Don’t make it out like I’ve had some long game plan,” you giggled, though your heart was racing at how close you were, how his hands were pulling you closer, his warmth seeping into your skin. Trent's gaze softened, his hand still resting on your waist, fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. His voice dropped, more serious now.

“No? “He inquired with a raised brow and a smirk You swallowed, heart pounding.

"No, maybe just hope.” You shyly told him, glancing up at him. His smirk faded into something softer as he shifted slightly, turning more toward you.

"Yeah?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with a kind of gentle curiosity, his hand sliding higher up your side, his touch now more comforting than teasing. "I'm glad you did.” The weight of his words hung between you, unspoken but understood, and suddenly, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you in that moment-his warmth, his touch, his eyes locked on yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You both just lay there, wrapped up in each other, the blanket pulled tight around you as if creating your own little bubble of warmth and secrecy. Trent's fingers brushed over your skin again, a slow, deliberate touch that made your breath catch. You shifted slightly, letting your fingers continue their teasing exploration of his chest.

"You know," you whispered, leaning in closer until your lips brushed the curve of his ear, "I didn't mean to drive you crazy." Trent chuckled softly, his breath hot against your neck as he tilted his head toward you.

"You did a pretty good job of it anyway," he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. "And you're still doing it." You hummed in response, your lips curving into a smile as you let your nails rake over him again, watching his eyes flutter shut.

"Is it really all that bad?" you whispered, your voice playful but with a hint of challenge. His eyes flicked open, locking onto yours, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you again.

"It's bad because I can't think about anything else," he said, his voice rough with desire. "You've been driving me mad for a long time." The tension between you was thick, but instead of pulling away, Trent's hands slid back to your hips, gripping you just a little tighter. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing, but not quite closing the distance.

"Is that so?" you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest as you tilted your head, letting your lips hover just over his. You wanted him to close the gap, to take what he'd been holding back, but you also wanted to savor the moment, to stretch it out just a little longer.

"Yeah," he whispered back, his breath hot on your lips, his hands tugging you even closer under the blanket. "You're not going anywhere." He cooed. You grinned, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you tilted your head, lips barely grazing his.

"Not yet," you whispered back, enjoying the game, the push and pull between you two. Trent's eyes darkened with desire, his grip tightening on you as he leaned in just enough for your lips to finally touch in a slow, searing kiss that made every nerve in your body ignite. His hand tangled in your hair as the kiss deepened, and you felt yourself melting into him, every playful tease forgotten as his lips claimed yours. The worry of Jack finding you almost disintegrating entirely by Trent’s lips on yours.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 4 - Saturday Night xx

#trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #fie fic #Movie Night Fic

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jiminrings · 10 months ago

Text

fail-safe; intermission 02.

wordcount: 2k

glimpse: you leave for the night, but hopefully for good in the future.

alternatively, jungkook offers you reprieve.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even reading ur thoughts in the tags give me life :) | series masterlist

You’ve come to loathe your childhood home.

You’ve come to loathe your room and most especially your bed. You’ve come to hate the people who inhabit it in one way or another, whether it is to guard the door to it or sleep on it.

You detest the floor space that makes everyone who enters it regard it as cozy as if it’s an embrace that’s waiting solely for them. You despise the way it smells, the mix of what lived-in comes off as a scent seeming like an invitation for just about everyone.

The start and end to everything that has caused you immense pain in your life had something to do with your home. From the evident patriarch that’s missing in all your family photos, to how the outside doesn’t seem lavish compared to the facades of your classmates’ houses, to even the visitor that has been hellbent since day one to treat it as his very own — everything that has given you grief comes from the same place you’ve sworn up and down gave you nothing but comfort.

You don’t know where to place all your rage; you can’t even start unpacking everything you hold inside because there’s no space in a house so little to even tolerate you. It houses everything from a past (you’re not so sure of the tense) lover to offspring of said lover, but what your home can’t do is bear you–

Which is why you find yourself driving up to the big city, crashing into a room you know the most outside of your own space in your own house, just to stay for the night. It’s maintained to the state of when you’ve last been in it, the sight of the city below you reminding you that even for just a second, you could pretend that it’s your own home.

It’s your own space in the big city where there isn’t a brother whose loyalties don’t lie with you. It’s your own home wherein you don’t feel like you’re the one who’s intruding on everyone else in there because out of all of them, you’re the one who’s the least-adjusted when it comes to family. You’re above everyone, even if it’s just pretend, and in your few moments of peace, it comes. The click on the door comes, and you freeze up instantly.

What you didn’t expect is for the owner of it to actually come home.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, immediately straightening up your form on his couch. You didn’t even dare to put up your feet on his coffee table but with the way you react, he’d almost think you defiled it in ways he can’t even imagine. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t find any vacant hotels that could take me in such a short notice.”

There’s no confusion in Jungkook’s face. Surprise, sure, because he’s not used to anyone else having his key except for you, and when his eyes did settle to the light, his shock immediately dissipated. There’s no hostility. No arrogance, and no hint on his face telling you that you were unwelcome.

If anything, he looks warm.

“Oh come on, Y/N. You can crash anytime you’d like,” he laughs loudly once he figures that your startled expression looks amusing, the sound of his keys hitting the bowl snapping you out of your daze. “God knows you’ve saved my ass and let me crash in your house far too many times.”

Jungkook takes off his coat and hands you his own house slippers, sliding them from underneath your feet that you’re adamant to not put up anywhere else besides the floor.

You’re relieved for the most part, the guilt that you feel in your stomach creeping into your chest because Jungkook looks relaxed. Nonchalant, even, to know that you dropped into his home without even asking. It’s the total opposite of what you’ve felt seeing Yoongi do the same to you, the lone difference being Jungkook actually wanting you to be here.

“That’s because I’m your manager. That’s literally my work,” you sigh breathlessly, accepting the meal that he gives you sheepishly. You’d have to share with him because he wasn’t expecting anyone, but oddly enough, Jungkook’s more apologetic than you are because he didn’t check on you during your break. Your talent’s sorry because he didn’t anticipate you coming to him, and it’s a situation you’re completely unused to.

You’re not used to being on the receiving end of apologies.

“No, that’s beyond your work. A friend would do that. A manager would rat me out to the CEO and give me an ultimatum,” Jungkook corrects you, flipping his hair that’s grown out since his last project. The break the both of you are in on is literally the first throughout your whole careers, and the sudden reunion reminds you of the fact that he is correct.

Jungkook sees the knot in between your eyebrows, the same one that always appeared whenever you had to chew someone out for messing up something on his agenda, the chuckle that leaves him making you look up attentively.

“You could use a drink. You look like you need it,” he stands up to pour you a glass of his favorite liquor in his favorite glass, the worn-out milk cup freebie of his cereal being the perfect container whenever he wanted to get tipsy but not drunk. “How was going home?”

“It felt bad,” you admit with no shame. It’s Jungkook, and even if he has more stuff going on in his life success-wise than you do, you don’t feel a need to prove yourself. “I had to leave early.”

“And how was seeing Yoongi?” he raises a brow, still adept to the stories about him whenever you both took a load off busy schedules with drinking.

“Even worse,” you grumble, shuddering at the remembrance of a memory that’s still fresh in your mind. “I had to leave early because he was on my bed again, but this time, sleeping with his ex-wife and his son.”

Jungkook gasps softly, lips parting open in shock. “The same guy who fucked his high school sweetheart in your room?”

“Get this,” you chuckle with no real humor to it, looking down on your cup with a hatred that he could recognize. He doesn’t see it everyday, most especially not from you either, but Jungkook knows that look — that anger that could only come from someone who had to endure so much. “High school sweetheart and mother of his child and ex-wife? Just the same person.”

You’re not sure if it’s pity you should expect from Jungkook. You don’t expect any grand reaction because he should be desensitized to points like these (he’s done his fair share of dramas, both melodramatic and straight-up cheesy), but what you certainly don’t expect is for him to launch himself at you. To comfort you.

“Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” he mumbles to your shoulder, large hand cupping repeatedly against your back.

“What are you sorry for?” you whisper, pulling away to wipe at the tears at the corners of your eyes before they get on Jungkook. You turn your head away, pretending that the city you look down on is Yoongi, and that the tears that pool onto your cheeks aren’t there at all. “It must be Yoongi’s birthright to go sleep in my room like he owns it.”

Your sarcasm can’t carry over not because you sniffled, but because Jungkook is perhaps the most observant person in the world after you. “But that’s not the worst, Jungkook.”

He’s nervous for a second before it turns into annoyance, the look of genuine concern filling his face. He has his hand on your forearm, trying to get you to look at him so when you do lie, he could catch it. “Do you need me to rough him up for you?”

“I have no right,” you mutter to yourself more than you do for him, kissing your teeth at the frustration that whatever it is to do, you can’t seem to pick yourself up now. “I can get angry at him for sleeping on my bed with no permission. I can even get angry at him for lots of things. For giving me this, this false hope that we’ll ever amount to something,” you shakily exhale, looking down on your hands that are far from Hyewon’s that have held him and their child. “But the one thing — the one thing I can’t get angry at Yoongi for is him sleeping with his family.”

You have no right. Absolutely no semblance, no fraction of anything that could ever lead you to the conclusion that you have a say on how Yoongi loves his family, even if he’s divorced Hyewon whom he’ll forever keep the porch light on for.

He can leave town and take his share, but Hyewon can always come home — that’ll never change because she was once someone whom he loved the most (probably still), and the mother to Haneul. The porch light is on and the windows are cracked open in the event that she wants to come home to them, be it their home in New York or Los Angeles, be it the home you grew up in.

“What can I do about that, Jungkook? I can’t fault him for that. That’s his family. I don’t play any part in it.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N,” he soothes you, fingertips lightly scratching at your scalp. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

“Stop lying,” you cry to your hands even if Jungkook’s chest is right in front of you, the best he could do (the best that you allow because you’re not used to anyone going out of their way for you) only letting you cry the way you know how.

“I’m saying the truth,” he hums, unconsciously swaying you back in forth as you sit on the floor together. “People take so much from you, do you know that? Weren’t you the one that had to hustle and get a practical job because your brother was gambling on passion alone?” he tilts his head, wiping at your tears. “Weren’t you the one who had to carry all the hurt when it came to Yoongi?”

Jungkook even comes to a conclusion.

“I’m guilty of it too. I give you such a hard time.”

“Stop it,” you nudge him, effectively snapping out of your crying state when you hear Jungkook going into a train he shouldn’t even board in the first place. “That’s different. It’s literally my job to go through a hard time so you don’t.”

“But still. I feel like I don’t pay you enough for it,” he frowns, the immediate laugh that bursts from your lips making him smile.

“The agency does, but okay,” you roll your eyes. “Besides, the bonus you gave me enabled me to buy a new car.”

“Eh,” he shrugs exaggeratedly in faux arrogance, the smile on his face cheeky enough that it makes you throw your head back in amusement. “It is a nice car, isn’t it?”

Jungkook does it so quick, it being your reprieve, you don’t even notice that it’s the first long stretch of silence you’re under without thinking about anything but yourself; how you breathe, how you feel your fingers move, and even how steady your heart feels.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you smile softly, turning to him as he does the same. “For letting me crash and making things a little lighter for me. Even if it isn’t your job.”

“We’ve known each other for years,” he reasons. “You’re there and I’m there, even we’re not on the clock.”

There’s weight behind his smile, the inkling that pops up into your brain making you chuckle to yourself as you straighten up once again.

“I’ll get out of your hair in a few hours. I need to beat the traffic on the way back.”

“You’re still going back? This has got to be torture.”

You shrug carelessly, sighing heavily. “Three more days. My mom’s been blowing up my phone telling me she wants the family complete so she wouldn’t look stupid in front of everyone for this big family reunion,” you nod to yourself, building up whatever dignity and resolve you have left. “I think I can endure that much for her.”

Jungkook’s mind is as set as yours is to go home.

“You don’t have to endure it alone,” he offers, eyes wide and honest.

“What?”

“I’m an actor. Award-winning,” he adds, the smile that lingers on his face giving you more than just reprieve. “Even better than that, I’m also a good friend and an excellent debt-payer.”

“Jungkook,” you say his name as warning, partly in disbelief, and partly to convince yourself that he’s not thinking what you’re thinking.

“You’re a decent actress too. Just follow my lead,” he shrugs, shoving you lightly.

“You’re ridiculous,” you gasp, shaking your head adamantly. “Seriously, you don’t want to play any part in this chaos-…”

“I’ve been in worse settings,” he counters. “Stop taking shit, Y/N. Pretty woman like you doesn’t deserve anything of the sort.”

“Jungkook.”

He knows he already has you partly convinced when you let him get another word in.

“You and me, dating, driving back home. You can pretend you’re alright and unaffected with everything,” Jungkook grins. “We act it out enough, it’ll eventually come true.”

#second lead truthers n yoongi believers HOW R WE FEELINGGGGG #yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi oneshots #yoongi series #yoongi angst #yoongi angst imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi au #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts yoongi imagine #bts yoongi x reader

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misojunnie · 1 year ago

Text

DELICATE ─ psh. ☆ (teaser)

does love ever cross the line?

# genre: rich kid!enemy!sunghoon x fem!reader, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family feud, non idol au

# warnings: substances, lots of pining/angst, cursing, insults, mature jokes, implied sex, I have no idea how businesses work plz don’t roast me

# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + le sserafim

# playlist: delicate by taylor swift, take care by beach house, love by kendrick lamar, babydoll by dominic fike, hurts so good by astrid s

# a/n: hi y’all! I got this request a long time ago and only recently got to it, so I hope y’all like! lmk if u want to be added to the taglist! pls enjoy <3

# word count: 13.2k

# taglist: @lovialy @minniejenseo @powerpuffstuts @mnxnii @idkdykilr @ionlyreadforfanfics @heelovesmeknot @100520s @simjyunnie @scrumptiousloser @eneiyri @pinkkami @milkycloudtyg @enhypenlovre @pinkkami @m3chigo @saythenameseventeen178 @desistay @capri-cuntz.@taerifin open!

# unable to tag: @hohohobo

this was written upon anon request; check it out here!

when your father’s company cratered after a faulty business deal, a vendetta was formed between your family and the biggest export company in south korea. but that rivalry begins to falter when you fall in love with the ceo’s son.

[more under the cut!]

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

Awards banquets were Sunghoon’s least favorite part of being in business. Forget the ruthlessness and backstabbing, dressing up in a suit and pretending to be successful blew all that warfare out of the water.

“It’s too tight.”

“It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Just stop complaining.”

“I’m not kidding, Jake. Loosen it or I’ll kill you.” Jake sighed, tugging on the navy blue tie until it was hanging loosely around Sunghoon’s neck, a stark and messy contrast to his crisp black suit and neat button up.

“Jesus Christ. After fifteen years, you’d think you’d know how to tie a tie.” Jake said, shaking his head as his best friend checked his hair in the mirror.

“Are you sure we have to go to this thing tonight?” Sunghoon huffed, brushing a stray piece of hair into place.

“Don’t be stupid. You’ve been going to these galas since you were six, and dragging me along with you.” Jake scoffed, pushing Sunghoon’s head from behind and ruining his hairstyle yet again, the latter glaring.

“You love it.” Sunghoon teased, tearing his eyes away from the mirror after checking his hair a last time. “God, I can’t believe we’re still having these idiotic galas. Everyone just knows they’re a coverup for big corporations to distract from the fact that they’re abusing their poor workers.”

“Nobody cares these days. Put a bow on anything and the media will eat it up.” Jake said, adjusting his tie before slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Ready to ruin some lives? Destroy some young futures?”

“Not funny.” Sunghoon warned, pointing his finger at Jake while trying to tug on his shoes with the other hand. “You know how much I hate the company.”

“Say that as much as you want, but you’re still wearing shoes bought with your daddy’s blood money.” Sunghoon huffed.

“Hm...I suppose you’re right.” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the ball, Prince Charming.” Jake dragged Sunghoon out of the room by the wrist, locking it behind him, Sunghoon in tow.

Sunghoon sighed. God, how he hated his life. A legacy built on deception, and nothing he could do about it. Him and Jake made their way to the elevators, his dull eyes disappearing behind the closing doors.

He didn’t belong anywhere. Certainly not here.

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

On the other side of the city, you were having an entirely different conversation.

“Take that off, Chae.” you said, biting into an apple. Your red lipstick bled into the fruit as you stared judgingly at Chaewon’s enormous diamond necklace.

“But it’s so pretty.” she crossed her arms, but you gave her a stern glance and she turned around to change with a roll of her eyes. “And you, put that out.” you swatted at Jay’s hand, a lit cigarette perched between his two fingers, roiling smoke spilling from the top. “You’re gonna make my new dress smell like smoke.”

“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Jay asked, putting out his cigarette on the corner of the coffee table, which made you frown. “No need to stress. You’ve done this business routine a million times over.”

“I’m just nervous, I guess.” you said, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“I thought you didn’t care what the Parks thought about you.”

“I don’t.” you said firmly, tongue poking into the flesh of your left cheek. “I just want things to go smoothly, that’s all.”

“So you’re not gonna stand up to those fuckers that ruined your life? No protest?” Jay asked, resting his chin on his hand. “You always wanted to take them down.”

“Of course I do. But tonight’s not the night.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead, smudging your foundation and cursing when you realized what you had done. “I just want to be put together, just for one night.”

“Well you certainly look the part, honey.” he said, eyes trailing over your floor length red gown. “You’re a proper businesswoman.”

“I hope so.” you laughed.

“You’re gonna kill it. I know it for a fact.” Jay said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing. “Now let’s get you to this ball.” You grinned up at him, getting to your feet and brushing the dust off your skirt with determination.

“Let’s show these people who our company is.”

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

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tfwbluu · 30 days ago

Note

Can you please do what are Jake kinks? Like the one you did for Riki.

PAIRING — jake + f!reader

WARNINGS — bdsm, mirrors, breeding, it’s descriptive with some lines here and there, talking abt what his kinks could be but also not really ..? i don’t know ill let u decide

WORDCOUNT — 0.8K

NOTE — u guys are practically asking for almost all of enha kinks should i do jungwon and sunoo too. . . n e way not proofread so lmk if i need to add anything to the warnings ! happy new years everyone <3

He’d be the type to whine—a lot. Not your typical grunter, he’d get so sensitive, completely overwhelmed by the way your walls gripped him. Every thrust pulled needy sounds from his lips, his mewls and gasps filling the air as he lost himself in the feeling of you.

“Shit, princess, you’re so tight f’ me, ngh, sucking me in so good...” he muttered, his hips relentless against yours, focused solely on making you feel good.

He’d absolutely have a begging kink, both giving and receiving. When he’s the one begging, he’d be utterly desperate, pleading for your pussy like it’s the only thing that could satisfy him, his voice dripping with need.

“Please, baby, I’ll make you feel so good, just need your pussy so bad,” he’d whine, tugging at your waist as his lips left yearning kisses along your neck.

But when it’s your turn to beg? Oh, he’d make you work for it, dragging out the moment just to watch you squirm.

“Oh? You want more, princess?” he’d tease, his fingers brushing over your clothed cunt with maddening slowness. “Beg a little, and maybe I’ll indulge you,” he’d murmur, spreading your wetness around the delicate lace, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

His oral fixation was undeniable—he couldn’t resist the urge to have his mouth on your skin, your boobs, or especially your pussy. It was as though tasting you soothed some deep, insatiable ache in him.

“Stay still, baby,” he murmured, gripping your thighs as he propped your legs on his shoulders. His tongue lapped hungrily at your folds, his lips slurping on your arousal. “Need more of you,” he groaned, the vibrations making you shiver.

He was relentless, a true pussy eater who took everything you gave and still craved more.

“Shit, baby,” he muttered, tilting his head to capture your release on his tongue. “Tastes so sweet,” he praised, before diving back in to devour you, his mouth hungry for more of your addictive sweetness.

“One more, baby. Just give me one more, I know you can,” he pleaded, looking up at you with soft, puppy-dog eyes as his tongue traced delicate circles over your sensitive clit, coaxing another orgasm from you.

His veiny hands were made to drive you crazy. He loved fingering your pussy, starting slow with one finger before stretching you open with three, watching the way your body adjusted to him. His movements were calculated, his fingers curling just right to hit your sweet spot as his thumb circled your clit. He was completely mesmerized by how soaked his hands became, relishing the mess you made for him.

“Yeah… give it to me, baby,” he murmured, coaxing more of your release as his fingers worked you over. Without hesitation, he dragged his hand across your pussy, collecting your arousal before licking his fingers clean, his eyes locked on you. “Hmm… sweet,” he hummed, savoring the taste.

“Feels good, princess? You like me fucking my fingers into you, hmm?” he teased, his pace quickening, delighting in the way your body trembled and clenched around him, completely undone by his hands alone.

He’d definitely be into BDSM, experimenting with ropes or having you tie him up instead. Roleplaying would also be right up his alley—him as your cute, needy little puppy desperate for your attention (and your pussy). And, of course, he’d be absolutely thrilled about trying out love hotels with you. The unique rooms, props, and antics they offer would make him giddy with excitement, always eager to test everything out just for fun.

“C’mon baby, what should we try next?” he mused, his energy still high while you lay there panting, trying to recover from your previous release. “Oh, let’s just try the bed, sweetheart.” Without hesitation, he carried you over, settling you down before quickly cuffing you to the bed’s attached restraints, leaving you spread open. Looking up, you noticed the mirror above you, giving you a perfect view of yourself and everything he was about to do. “Gon’ have so much fun with you, baby,” he said, a playful glint in his eye.

Hours passed like nothing to him—he could go on and on without tiring, loving the idea of breeding you and filling you up over and over again. His obsession with watching his cum spill out of you was insatiable, only for him to push it right back in with his cock or fingers.

“Fuck baby, take it. Take my fucking cock,” he grunted, emptying himself inside you once more. Pulling out slowly, he watched with fascination as his cum dripped from your swollen pussy. “Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured, collecting some of his release with his tip before thrusting it back into you, grinning as your whines of sensitivity filled the room.

#( tfwbluu )#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen smut #enha smut #jake x reader #jake x you #sim jake x reader #jake sim x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #jaeyun sim x reader #jaeyun x reader #jake smut #jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun smut #sim jake smut

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jeon-ify · 1 year ago

Text

warnings: dom!san, professor!san, hairpulling, making out, degradation, swearing, slapping, fingering, rough sex, hickeys, size kink, cnc if you squint!!, if i missed anything lmk!

“you wanna get an A in my class? maybe start paying attention.”

he mocks as his fingers tug and pull at your nipples to pull you closer to him. you whimper in response, begging for a release when he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“have you retained any information? or is your brain full of dirty thoughts, hm?” his fingers move up to the nape of your neck, squeezing and kissing your jaw, licking your chin, up to your lips. he squeezes your jaw to force your mouth open, sticking his tongue where it belongs— in your mouth. you suck on the muscle, deepening the kiss. he grunts and moans in response, already almost cumming in his pants from the feeling of your mouth on his. he pulls away, tugging at your hair so you’re looking up at him.

“y-yes, mr. choi. been thinking about you bending me over your desk— fucking me hard.” you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his fingers between your thighs.

“fuck, y/n. such a whore. what would the dean say if he walked in and saw you fucking your english professor? open your legs, stop fuckin’ closing them.”

he spreads your legs with his big, smooth, veiny hands, landing a sharp slap on your pussy. you jerk in response, the feeling making your legs weak.

“fuck! please, please please.” you whine. your skirt is riding up to your waist as mr. choi pulls and tugs at your tits.

“love these so fuckin’ much. always distracting me. wanna fuck them, let me fuck your tits, ms. y/n.” he leans down to suck at the bud, leaving purple marks and red scratches to make you remember who you belong to from this point on.

“oh my— want you in my pussy, daddy, please just touch me there—“

you just want him to fuck you. he’s edging you for hours on end. class ended at 3:12pm, it’s 6:21pm.

“yeah? i’ll fuck them another time, hm?” he slides his white button up off as you run your fingers down his toned torso.

“you ready to take me?” he lines himself up with you, pushing and pulling to get you to adjust to his size.

god, he’s so fucking big. the vein that runs up his shaft is prominent, making your mouth water at the sensation of the twitch you feel between your legs. he finally enters you with a jolt, your body pushing away from mr. choi as he thrusts into you harshly.

“fuck, oh my fucking god, you’re so pretty, y/n. how haven’t i fucked you before?” he throws both your legs up his shoulders, fucking you at a faster pace as he fiddles with the diamond anklet you’ve put on this morning.

“s-sir please, fuck slow down. you’re too big!”

but he doesn’t stop. instead, he pulls you deeper so he’s reaching a spot that makes your entire body shake.

“o-oh my— i’m cumming, i’m cumming, i’m cumming.” you manage. your body stills as your juices cover mr. choi’s cock.

“fuck, y/n. gonna fill you to the brim with my cum. keep it in until next class, and maybe i’ll put in a good word to your math teacher, hm?”

his thrusts become less harsh, as you feel him twitch inside of you. he pulls out, watching his cum leak out of you. he thrusts the tip back in, pushing all of his cum right back into you, so a drop isn’t wasted.

“nice and full, fuckin’ love your pretty pussy, baby. stay after class tomorrow. have something special for you.”

you get home that night, receiving a notification from your school canvas.

“Choi, San: ENG-131 has updated your overall grade

A ………….. 102%”

—————————

omfg.

#kpop smut #kpop #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez san #san ateez #san x reader #choi san #san #ateez scenarios

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miniy00ng1 · 5 months ago

Text

Not Yours pt.2

Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader

wc: 2239 (not proofread yet!)

warnings: swearing, fighting, lmk if i missed anything

find part one here my masterlist here

Hi lovelies! While writing I realized that this was going to be more than two parts like i had originally thought it would be. but regardless i hope you enjoy and don't forget to give me feedback! pls ignore and grammar errors! thank you <3

-------------------------------

“Welcome mi familia to my home away from home. My dearest Hotel Obsidian.” Klaus introduces, arms spread wide and breathing in the musty glory of the hotel. “Oh how I’ve missed her. Lookie who’s here! Mon frère Chet! How are you? We need your finest rooms good sir!” Chet places a sign on the table cash up front. The group of super siblings empty their pockets managing to gather enough for two rooms.

“So what’s our next move you guys? Because the Sparrows can attack at any given moment. I know I would.” Diego asks, anxious to kick some more ass. Luther turns towards Diego, placing his hands on his shoulders, “Diego, just relax man. They’re not coming, they’re going to need a couple of days to recover with the way we left them.” “You really think so?” Diego asks hopefully, at this moment you peek around Luther’s body into Diego’s view and shake you head, sliding you thumb slowly across your neck. Five notices you trying to rile Diego up and drags you to the elevator.

“First, I get kidnapped. And now I have to bunk in the boys room. Just kill me now.” Y/N complains as she is forced into the room being shared between four men. “You can complain all you want Y/N, but I have to keep an eye on you, so deal with it.” Five huffs taking a seat on the lower bunk bed. You roll your eyes, “There are only four beds in here dipshit and five of us. Where the hell am I supposed to sleep?” Five smirks at you, putting his hands behind his head and fully reclining on the bed as you make a gagging sound.

The other three brothers enter the room shortly after and begin to discuss how there are now other versions of themselves out in the world. Your curiosity gets the best of you, “What was you guys’ version of me like? Everyone seems to like her so much better, she couldn’t have been that great.” The men all speak at once listing all of the good qualities other you had such as her kindness, or her mindfulness, or her hopefulness. You jokingly smile extra big and say, “Doesn’t she just sound like a ray of sunshine.” The rest of the night is uneventful as everyone is exhausted from the events that occurred earlier.

That night, you end up taking the bottom bunk and Five sleeps on the floor next to it. The morning sun shines directly into eyes, disturbing your slumber. As you wake up and try to adjust your eyes, you feel a pressure on your hand. Lifting your head from the pillow, you glance over the edge of the bed and see a slumbering Five holding your hand–warmth spreads across your face. You quickly snatch your hand out of his grip, startling Five awake, he immediately scans the room for any threats. Five furrows his eyebrows once he makes eyes contact with you. No words are exchanged between the two of you as you get out of the bed and head towards the bathroom down the hall.

While freshening up in the bathroom, Y/N takes note of everyone in the restroom. There’s an elderly lady, a woman in her late 40s that looks like she’s done every drug on planet earth–twice, and a tan woman with a young boy standing behind her. The woman stares at you as if you’re familiar with one another. “What the hell are you looking at lady?” You says while drying your hands. The woman laughs in disbelief, “No fucking way.” You raise your eyebrows at the lady and exit the communal bathroom, startled to find Five dressed in a suit and waiting for you. “This entire hotel is full of freaks.”

The two of you take a seat at the table joining Klaus and Diego. The table covered in boxes of Chinese takeout, Five hands you a container and chopsticks, “Eat up, you must be starving.” You nod your head as a thank you and dig into the noodles. The siblings discuss their next course of action, if they have to fight the Sparrows to get the briefcase back or stay in the timeline. Across from you, something has caught Diego’s eye as he abruptly drops his food and rushes away from the table. You turn your body to see where he’s run off to and see Diego chasing the woman from the bathroom.

Diego returns to his seat five minutes later wih a young boy who claims to be his son. Not a single one of the Hargreeves at the table question the legitimacy of the relation. “So if you’re his dad..Is that blonde lady his mom?” You question, not seeing the resemblance at all. Diego nods in confirmation, “She claims he’s my son and that lady, is Lila. You two have met, she tried to murder us like two days ago.” “Two things Buddy. One, I am not your Y/N. And two, you’re an idiot. No wonder she tried to kill you.” You say, piecing the missing information together.

A short haired Vanya approaches the siblings. “Wow Vanya! I am loving the haircut! It really suits you!” Klaus calls out, admiring the new style. “Oh, it’s actually Viktor.” Viktor says awkwardly. The brothers glance at each other before Diego speaks up, “Who is?” “I am, always have been.” Viktor confirms. “Does anybody have a problem with that?” Everyone at the table shakes their head no and congratulates Viktor. “Look, I met with Marcus last night he agreed to give us the briefcase in exchange for Y/N. He says he doesn’t want to start a war.” You sit up straight at the mention of the trade.

Five’s face hardens at Viktor’s statement, “Absolutely not Viktor. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but this timeline in perfectly acceptable, there are no apocalypses or psychopaths coming after us. And last time I checked, you don’t speak for this family. There won’t be any unnecessary trades. Especially not if they include Y/N.” “You’re wrong Five. We don’t belong here. Allison is miserable, her own daughter doesn’t exist and you’re holding Y/N hostage just because she looks like your Y/N!” Viktor argues back. Five seethes in Viktor’s face, “I said no.” Five drags you off the chair forcing you to follow him. You hear footsteps chase after the two of you, “Five! Five wait up!” Five stops, still holding onto your wrist as Klaus catches up. “You two sure move quick for such little legs. Anywho…how would you two like to join me on a little roadtrip? We can relax and cruise the open road, it’ll be a grand ole time!” Five agrees to go with Klaus against your wishes.

Leaning against the car, you scan Five’s figure, “Like what you see?” Five says cockily, smiling at you. “That is the ugliest outfit I have ever seen. Genuinely, you should burn that for the sake of everyone else. And take that stupid hat off, you’re embarassing me. What did I ever see in you.” Five’s smile drops but before he can make a rebuttal Klaus skips over towards the car, “Let’s go bitches! This is going to be so much fun!” It was not fun by any means. Thirty minutes into the drive, Klaus and Five start arguing due to the fact that Klaus tricked Five into coming to meet his birth mother because he was scared to do it alone.

“You were scared? So you brought me along like an emotional support schnauzer?” “I would say you’re more like a little cute, feisty chihuahua.” You say mindlessly. Five turns and glares at you, you’re certain he’s picturing murdering you in his mind. The fighting goes on for a little longer before the boys make up at the big ball of twine. Soon enough, you guys arrive at a farm where Klaus’ mother is supposedly living. Five tells Klaus that this is something he has to face alone and that he’ll stay with the car.

Five moves the car to the side of the road and turns on a radio station playing songs from the 60s. He then exits the car just to open the rear door, “Scoot over, I want to stretch out my legs and do my crossword.” “You are such an old man. I don’t know how I could be into that.” You say while scooting over to make room for the teen. Five slides in next to you ensuring that his body is facing yours, “I’ll have you know that I have a lot of redeeming qualities that you loved. Not to mention, I’m a sweet talker Darling.” Five brushes his hand against your cheek, holding eye contact with you. Five’s green eyes are intense as you stare back noting the specks of blue in them. “I know, it’s hard to look away from them right?” Five winks at you finally breaking eye contact and sitting back, attention back on his newspaper. You blink rapidly trying to process what had occurred between the two of you.

Suddenly, a pulse rushes through the car shaking it as it passes. Five immediately sits up, hand gripping yours as he scans the area for signs of danger. You two exit the car, still holding hands. “Five? Where’d the cows go?” You question pointing towards the previously filled farmland which was now completely vacant. “Damnit can’t I get just one day off?” Five sighs throwing his hands in the air. The teenage boy gets to working on equations trying to figure out what he and his siblings fucked up now. In the distance, you hear a faint yell. A few seconds later comes Klaus with an angry Amish mob chasing after him, “Start the car! We’ve got to go now!” The three of you clamber into the car and speed off.

Klaus tells Five his findings and experience with the Amish and how his mother died before he was born. Five stomps on the breaks, causing you to fly forward, “We are so fucked. We’ve created the Grandfather Paradox.”

Once back at Hotel Obsidian Five takes you with him to find Lila. Her son, Stanley, tells you that she’s in the women’s restroom. Five is about to enter before you stop him, “Hey perv, this is the ladies room. Let me go.” You spot Lila in the bath and wave at her, “Y/N! Long time no see. Well actually, I guess you’ve never met me before but…I know you. And I can’t stand you just as much as I hate your husband.” Lila throws a knife in your direction and you are about to move out of the way when you feel a rush of air as you are blinked across the room.

You pull out of Five’s grip, “I can handle myself Five. And he is not my husband!” Lila approaches the two of you fully nude, “If you lovebirds are done with your couples quarrel. I’d love to get this over with.” Five and Lila fight and blink around the bathroom–you never knew two people could have the same powers. Lila manages to knock Five off of his feet, she then blinks to you and punches. You duck down, narrowly avoiding her fist. You sweep your leg at her feet aiming to knock her down. Lila lands on her back and you use your powers to transform into Luther in order to have an advantage, size and strength-wise. You swing your arms up in the air readying to pummel the woman into the ground. Lila mimics your power also transforming into Luther–your eyes widen as you realize what her powers are. Lila pulls her legs to her stomach before kicking them out, launching her legs into your stomach. You fly back, groaning as you land on a sink and breaking it off the wall. Curse Luther and his stupidly big monkey body.

Five has recovered and catches Lila off guard by slamming his body into hers. While distracted he squirts her in the face with soap, “Okay! Fuck! That’s enough!” Lila calls out, wiping the soap out of her stinging eyes. Five blinks over to you as Luther, “Y/N? Are you okay?” You transform back into your teenage self, accepting Five’s outstretched hand, “Never been better.” After making sure you were okay, Five grabs the briefcases from Lila’s possession. They were of course broken and the two decided that they would use their powers to travel to the Commision.

“We can’t bring her, we barely have enough power to bring ourselves.” Lila states motioning towards you. Five looks at you trying to figure out where to put you for the time being. Five walks you to his brother Diego, “I need you to watch her. I’ve got things to do and she can’t come with.” “What the hell? No! I’ve already got one little shit to take care of. I don’t need another.” You scoff at the conversation between the men, “I can hear you guys, you know?” They both ignore you. “Just make them watch each other, I don’t know. Figure it out, I’ve got to go.” Five walks off quickly with his hands in his pocket. Diego looks at you and rubs his face, “Stanley! Get your ass over here and come meet your Auntie!”

part three

taglist:

@ohmyitsfaith

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves x female!reader #number five #the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves x reader #miniy00ng1

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star-girl69 · 6 months ago

Text

Too Sweet

Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: a niche celebrity yourself, you and caroline try to keep your relationship private and secret- despite the rumors circling. but secrets come out when you’re on live.

a/n: this MIGHT be the worst thing i have ever written… anyways 😍 from this ask, i hope you all enjoy!!

Too Sweet - Hozier

warnings: reader cries like twice, i took this and ran w it lmao, hmmm like hurt/comfort, mentions of sex, kissing, the whole shabang, swearing, pretty chill but suggestive at times so lmk if i missed anything!!

—-

“Oh, my God!” You shout, sitting up in your girlfriend’s bed, blankets slipping off of you. She groans next to you, head falling off of your shoulder and arm still around your waist.

“I was asleep,” she complains.

“Look!” You shout, shaking her slightly as you shove your phone in her face.

Caroline, your very wonderful and very sleepy girlfriend who claims naps just aren’t the same if you’re not in bed with her, blinks a few times as her eyes adjust. You unpause the Tik Tok video, and the song plays, some emotion forming in her eyes that you can’t quite name. The sound starts looping again, and you shake your phone.

“See? It’s an edit! Of me!!”

She smiles. “Oh, wow, baby. You’re really famous now, huh?” Your stomach twists as she watches the edit in total adoration, pupils blown despite her sleepy eyes. It’s just a clips of you from screen recorded lives or Tik Tok’s from someone on the team, but you can’t help but be happy anyways.

You don’t want that whole famous thing, the spotlight and the pressure- you’re just glad your girlfriend is getting the attention she deserves. She’s the most talented person you know- an Olympian, for God’s sake.

“I like this,” she smiles. “It’s cute. Send it to me.”

You laugh but send it anyways, your eyes catching on the small text that says 12 comments.

Nobody knows you and Caroline are dating. At least, the fans don’t. After Caroline started coming to fame and Laila followed, the Badgers become sort of a social media hotspot. They were all talented and hilarious- they deserved it.

You’ve only been dating Caroline for a few months, but you’d been friends with her for years before that- always teetering on the edge of something more. In fact, the first time you were ever brought up was people questioning who you were in the background of lives- questioning if you were dating someone on the team.

Caroline did love her fans a lot, she often ranted about how cool is was being able to share her life with people and how amazing it was to be an inspiration to so many young girls who feel discriminated in sports, but the talk of introducing you to them hasn’t quite come up yet.

Maybe you’re still in the honeymoon phase. Maybe all the people who deserve to know- your friends and family- are the people who already know.

user-1 ok who tf is she. seriously like i love her but WHO

user-2 @/user-1 her name is y/n!! she doesn’t play for the badgers but she’s friends w all of them and hangs out w them a lot

user-1 i heard a rumor she’s dating kk… i would actually go crazy.

user-4 ok she’s pretty but like kk and i are married sooooo

user-3 i don’t even think she’s that pretty tbh

user-2 um ok wow wtf did she do to you

user-3 nothing i just don’t think she’s that pretty

user-3 if she is dating kk then kk could do a lot better (cough me cough)

You can’t help but frown, reading the words over and over again.

“What?” Caroline asks, cupping your hand with her own to angle the screen towards her. She turns from half-asleep to wide awake in seconds. “They don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about.”

You turn your phone off and let it drop onto the blankets, turning towards KK. She sits up immediately, putting both of her hands on your face- but you can’t quite meet her eyes.

“Hey, hey. Don’t listen to them. Look at me. Please. Don’t listen to them.”

“I’m not,” you say after a moment, eyes still shut. “It’s fine. I just… don’t get it.”

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, and you’re all I’ve wanted for years. And now that I finally have you, I’m not letting you go. And I’m not letting you get it in your head that you’re not good enough for me- because you are.”

You don’t notice a tear has fallen down your face until she’s kissing it away.

“You’re perfect,” she says, with an air of finality you can’t help but smile at. “I love you. Don’t think otherwise. Of course, if you need some reassurance I’m always down to tell you how much I love you.”

“Thank you, KK,” you whisper, softly clearing your throat as you’re finally able to meet her eyes. “I love you, too.”

All you can do is think about when she won the NCAA championship last year, when she was high off of the win and came out of the locker room to find you- smiling so brightly and gushing about how good she had played- and all she did was smile at you, grab your face, and kiss you so hard you got tilted back onto an axis you didn’t even know you were knocked off of.

And suddenly, with her lips on yours, everything in the world felt right. And it’s felt right since then. It feels right now, 4 months into your relationship, with Caroline holding your face and kissing your tears away.

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell them,” she whispers, kind of blurts it out. “I-I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and, well, this kinda sealed it. I don’t want them to get in your head, like this. I… just want you all to myself, really.”

You laugh, and she smiles back, her eyes moving from your lips to the bridge of your nose to your eyes.

“Won’t keeping it a secret be kinda annoying?”

“I mean, not being able to show you off will suck, but if it means you don’t cry about stupid people again then I’ll do it.”

“Okay, then. We don’t have to tell them.”

“Exactly.” She kisses you, once, like she’s sealing a promise between the two of you. “Besides, nothing about you is ever annoying.”

—-

The edit of you ended up going kind of viral, and then more and more were made, until suddenly you had 2000 followers on Tik Tok and hundreds of private messages begging you to go live with the team, or film some kind of video, or do anything.

The first thing you ever posted was a simple get ready with me, and that received so much support you did another one, and then you did a day in the life- that one featured Caroline, so it went very viral- and suddenly you went live one night, and then it all just kinda fell into place.

There was nothing more exciting then getting another sweet comment or message telling you how much they looked forward to your videos, or absolutely hilarious comments people would leave under your posts.

But, with your own social media fame skyrocketing and Caroline’s still staying strong- she was right. They did judge you, they did get into your head.

And they weren’t dumb, you quickly realized. This sort of abstract group of people you called “they” and listened to, they knew something was happening.

There were three instances that caused the fans to guess you and Caroline were more than just friends.

—-

The girls decided to have another movie night, and all of you were laying lazily about the couches and the floor, Laila on live showing off her fabulous singing skills yet again, and you were sitting with KK on the couch.

You weren’t even that close to each other. Your thighs touched, sure, and she had her arm around her shoulder- but she kept it back, so it was more so on the back of the couch and not touching you. But, her comforting presence was there, and that was enough for you.

Someone had paused the movie a while ago, and it had turned more into a hangout session that was filled with obnoxious singing and laughter.

“I should probably go soon,” you muttered to KK.

“Why?” She frowned, pressing her leg into yours.

“I have a test tomorrow morning, I should go to bed soon.”

You still whispered to each other, even though the room was pretty loud.

“You sure you don’t wanna sleep over? I’ll drive you over in the morning.”

She was always trying to get you to sleep at her apartment. Or just be at her apartment in general- sometimes, you would hang out at their place while they had practice and make dinner for them, and KK would jokingly call you her wife and thank you for having dinner on the table.

You have to cross your legs when she wraps her arms around you and kisses your cheek, saying “thank you, my wonderful wife.”

“I wanna be in my own bed, K.”

She leans in, closer to you so her lips are ghosting over your ear. “My bed is your bed, baby.”

She leaves a kiss to the shell of your ear, pulling away with a small smile on her face and you can feel your cheeks heat. And she knows the reaction she has on you, and she’s very proud of it.

You smile. “I’m sorry, Caroline. Not tonight, okay?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, hand playing with the hair at the back of your head. You turn to her, amused smile on your face she can’t take her eyes away from.

“I am one thousand percent sure that I don’t want to go to your place tonight.”

“You’re no fun,” she teases.

“I’m plenty of fun,” you gasp, faking offense with a hand over your chest. She takes her arm off of your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you gonna prove that? ‘Cause I don’t think I believe you.”

“I think I proved that Friday night.” You place your hand on her chest, fingertip drawing patterns on her collarbone. She visibly swallows. “You remember?”

“Fuck yeah I remember, but I still think you should show me again.”

“Fuck!” Laila suddenly shouts, and you whip around only to find her frantically clicking buttons on her phone before simply throwing it across the room.

The chatter stops. Ava, another girl on the team, picks the phone up from where it’s fallen by her feet and looks at it.

“Um, what was that for?” She asks, and you can see the live ended screen on Laila’s phone.

“I’m so sorry,” Laila says. “They heard you.”

Your eyes widen. “The thing about Friday night?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t listening to you, what the fuck were you even saying? I just looked at the comments and suddenly everyone was asking who KK was talking to, and like, ‘wow, KK is so hot.’”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Okay, whatever. That could have been about anything.”

“Caroline,” you mutter. “It’s pretty obvious it was about sex.”

“Okay, shush,” Laila says, holding her hands out. “First of all, why are you doing that when we’re all in the room? Second, oh, my God I am so sorry.”

You sigh, cracking your knuckles. Caroline immediately grabs one of your hands. “It’s not your fault, Lai. It’s fine- I mean, if we ignore it then they’ll probably just stop talking about it. Right?”

“Probably,” Laila agrees. “They’ll forget about it tomorrow. Hopefully it doesn’t end up in the edits.”

You can’t help but laugh. If you don’t laugh, you might cry.

@/user-1 here’s the screen recording!! side note: i NEED to know who kk was talking to at the end.

> View 102 commets

user-2 wait what do they say at the end

user-3 @/user-2 basically kk and another girl are just flirting like crazy

user-4 @/user-3 they could still be friends

user-3 @/user-4 um no that was gay as hell

user-5 WHAT HAPPENED FRIDAY NIGHT KK PLS PICS OR IT DIDNT HAPPEN

user-6 @/user-5 EXACTLY

—-

Your voice felt a little scratchy, and you couldn’t stop coughing- you had been screaming so hard during the entire game that you’re sure you’re going to wake up without a voice tomorrow.

The Badgers just won the last game they needed to win- the qualifying game for the Frozen Four tournament. This was the third year in a row Caroline had gone to the championships, and by the way a huge dog pile had formed on the ice when the buzzer went off- everyone was just a little excited.

You waited as patiently as you could outside of the locker room, but you found yourself again fidgeting with your hands and walking back and forth. All you could think about was just kissing Caroline so hard you saw stars, and telling her how good she did.

You closed your eyes for a moment, finally leaning back against the wall as you thought back to the goal she had scored. Maybe it was weird, but there was honestly nothing sexier to you than watching Caroline in her element like that.

Hockey was where she shined, where she was her truest self- and not only was it exhilarating to watch her in general, but she also looked really good doing it.

The door finally creaked open and your cheeks burned from smiling too hard, all of the Badgers coming out of the locker room and running to great their own friends and family who had gathered outside. It took a second for her face to appear in the line of people exiting, she was laughing with Laila and a few other girls about something, she was smiling just as wide as you were and, God, she looked so pretty.

When she saw you, it wasn’t possible for her smile to get bigger, but her smile changed. Suddenly, you felt so loved just by the way she was looking at you.

You practically ran across the room, half jumping into her arms, pressing yourself as close to her as you could. You kissed her nose as you wrapped your arms around her neck, and her hands ran along down your arms to your shoulders, then down your sides to finally hold onto your hips.

“Holy shit,” she said, smiling, still kind of in disbelief.

“I am so, so, so fucking proud of you, baby.”

Her eyes search all across your face, almost like she’s taking in every inch of this moment. You know that she’s been looking forward to this moment since the buzzer went off- her weird pleasure is that she thinks you’re so hot when you’re supporting her- and she drinks in everything about you like she’s trapped in a dessert and you’re water.

She doesn’t need to say thank you, because the way she kisses you, hands squeezing your hips even closer to her, hard and unrelenting and depriving you of air but you can’t think about anything else when she gets like this with you, is more than enough.

She kisses you like she’s starved, and there’s nothing else you love more than this moment with her.

When she does finally pull away, panting slightly but still chuckling at the way you’re literally about to pass out from lack of air- that’s the one shitty thing about her endurance, you swear she’s gonna kill you with kisses- she presses her forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” she breathes. “Thank you. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

There’s a few tears in her eyes.

Laila suddenly appears next to the two of you, her 6’1 frame quite literally casting a shadow over the two of you and your happy moment.

“We’re having a moment, Laila,” KK groans, but she’s smiling so hard.

“Great, some rando is taking a video, though.”

“Fuck.”

> View 236 comments

user-1 IS THAT CAROLINE HARVEY? IS THAT CAROLINE HARVEY KISSING A GIRL??

user-2 kk harvey girl kisser confirmed… this is a win

user-3 KK HOW COULD U CHEAT ON ME

user-4 @/user-3 KK THE KIDS MISS UUUUU

user-5 ok but appreciation for the hand placement.

user-6 @/user-5 THE WAY SHES KISSING HER??? LIKE A WOMAN STARVED??? that’s a hozier kinda kiss bro

user-7 @/user-6 would do anything to be in that girls place rn

user-8 can’t tell very well from this angle but i think the other girl is wearing a harvey jersey!! how cute

user-9 ok but the way laila blocks the camera from seeing them… that’s my wifey right there

user-10 absolutely obsessed with the way kk covers the other girls face when they walk away

user-11 @/user-10 we love a protective gf

user-12 don’t mind me just watching this video for the hundredth time

user-13 okay am i going crazy or is that y/n l/n??

—-

“Ok, hi Live. Y/N, say hi to the live.”

“Hi guys!” You smiled at the camera, keeping your eyes fixed on the boiling pot of pasta you were currently stirring.

“What are you guys making?” Laila reads, before shoving the camera yet again in your face.

“Okay, calm down,” you scold, setting aside your spoon and grabbing her phone. “Don’t bother me while I’m dealing with dangerous liquids.”

“It’s water,” Laila deadpans.

“Boiling water.”

Laila rolls her eyes but doesn’t give a verbal response, so you just smile and switch the camera around.

“Okay so, as you can see we’ve got some pasta boiling and some veggies and chicken cut up, and then we’re gonna cook that, and like… yeah.”

You look back towards the comments, most of them asking for KK. You decide to be nice, looking around the apartment and finding that your girlfriend is nowhere to be found.

“Carolineeeee,” you call, stretching out her name. “The people want to see you!”

The door to her bedroom creaks open, and she walks out carrying a hoodie. “What?”

“Laila went live,” you explain, flipping the camera around. “Okay, smile! Give us a little wave!”

user-1 y/n is so mom core

KK gives you a bored look, but begrudgingly puts on a very fake smile and waves.

“Aww how cute! What’s the hoodie for?” You ask, turning the camera back around and doing a few poses for the camera, admiring yourself.

“You. You said you were cold, like, two seconds ago.”

“Oops. Yeah, I did.”

user-2 kk is such a sweetheart

user-3 kk who were you kissing in that video??

user-4 i’m 99% sure it was y/n

user-5 i don’t think so

user-4 nobody asked you

user-6 KK PLS ADDRESS THE VIDEO

You prop the camera down against a random glass of water someone left on the counter, catching the hoodie Caroline throws at you and quickly putting it on.

“Okay, fit check!” You do a little spin, watching KK smile at the way her last name looks on your back. “Hoodie is from Caroline, bottoms are from… Under Armor, and… yeah, I don’t know where these socks are from.”

A few people compliment you, but the chat is still mostly filled with people asking for KK- or asking about the video.

The video that thankfully hasn’t been connected to you yet… but still, your name has been mentioned as a culprit multiple times.

You sigh, heavily. “I’m not good enough for them, they only want you, KK.”

She smiles but joins you in front of the camera, her eyes catching on your pouty lips for a second before she looks at the camera, wrapping her arm around your waist and standing close to you.

Immediately, the comments flood with questions about the video.

The two of you very pointedly ignore them, and Caroline finally gets up to grab the phone, opening the cabinet above the stove and propping it up in there. You sit on the counter behind them, legs swinging in the air as Laila shows off her vegetable cutting skills before dumping them in a pan to cook.

KK leans right next to you on the counter, her shoulder touching your arm, she squints at the camera before placing her hand on your thigh. You look down for a quick second, seeing that was in fact KK’s hand very not-friendly placed on your thigh, whipping to her with your eyes wide.

“Caroline,” you whisper, trying to subtlety push her away from you.

“Relax,” she whispers back. “They can’t see. You’re still my girlfriend, I wanna touch you.”

You look away, hoping the camera doesn’t catch the heat in your cheeks or the way you smile.

“Y/N,” Laila says, reading yet again from the live. “Someone wants to know why you’re always at our place.”

“What kind of question is that?” KK asks with an amused smile while you laugh. She pinches your cheek with her free hand. “Who wouldn’t want to look at this face all day?”

“You certainly do,” you laugh. Caroline smiles up at you. You’ve long since decided her smiles are your favorite thing in the world, but every time she smiles at you- which is a lot- you still get that same feeling you get when she first kisses you at that game.

“Okay,” Laila says, acting nonchalant as she turns around. “Hello?” She says, so quietly you have to read her lips. “Tone it down?”

You suddenly realize what you said.

You swallow and suddenly find the ceiling very interesting.

Caroline squeezes your thigh to be comforting but doesn’t look at you. You really want her to look at you. You wonder, for just a second, if maybe it would be easier to just tell people.

Then you remember the comments.

You still get them sometimes, the random trolls who don’t think you’re pretty or worthy enough for KK, to be friends with the team in general- and they make you feel so fucking shitty about yourself that KK’s even caught you crying about them a few times.

You know it’s stupid.

You try to listen to her, to not let them bother you- but maybe you’re just not as tough as her. Or you’re stupid, weak, sensitive- they bother you. They cut you deep like a sharp knife.

You hop down from the counter, KK’s hand sliding off of you. “Gonna run to the bathroom,” you mutter.

You can feel Caroline’s eyes on your back as you walk away. And she does come find you, but she waits a minute. She does ask what’s wrong, and you say nothing and she knows you’re lying- so she asks Laila to end the live.

And even though they’re not there anymore, you still carry the fear of their judgement.

@/user-1 screen recording from the live!!! i love kk and y/n’s relationship so much <3

> View 97 comments

user-2 if y/n and kk are JUST friends i’ll pay everyone on this planet 100 dollars

> view comment thread

user-3 really?? idk i think they’re just friends

user-4 kk said “who wouldn’t want to stare at this face all day” and y/n said “you do” that’s gay…

user-5 kk literally got a hoodie for her when she mentioned she was cold and then when she came on camera she looked at y/n’s lips

user-3 i just don’t know if i see it tbh like i don’t see them together

user-5 they’re dating mark my words

—-

It’s been weeks since the video came out, since the clips of the lives started circling, since more and more people starting saying your name when discussing who KK was dating- since everyone pretty much knew she was dating someone now, the only question was who.

Thankfully, despite the initial week where your comments were filled with people asking who Caroline was dating- asking if it was you- it finally died down, and people had either forgotten it or gotten bored by the lack of response.

And, you had found comfort in your own account. There was the occasional hate comment- but you didn’t cry anymore. There were always people ready to defend you, and everyone was just genuinely so sweet to you. They wanted to know about your life, your routines, your outfits- and the KK content you provided was just an added bonus.

That’s what you’re doing, Friday night at 4pm. The Badgers had a home game today, and like most home games, you were going to watch from the stands, cheering on your girl and the rest of your friends.

You decided to go live, sitting on the floor in KK’s room in front of her floor length mirror, pulling out her desk chair next to you, placing a stack of books on it and propping your phone up against it.

It was kind of therapeutic, answering random question about yourself and the team while you got ready. You showed the camera each product you used, and then they watched as you put it on- a few people even managing to give you helpful tips. It made you feel kinda wanted, kinda loved, kinda…good.

The door opens, and you look over your shoulder to see Caroline walking in.

“Hi, K,” you greet.

“Hi,” she says back, kind of distracted, already rifling through her messy bedside table, then her dresser-

“Okay, what are you looking for?” You laugh, smiling.

“Hairtie.”

You roll your eyes. “Babe, they’re on your desk, remember?”

“Oh,” she mumbles, eyebrows raising as she suddenly remembers that, yes, she did put the ceramic jar full of hair ties on her desk last night. She grabs one, standing behind you and pulling her hair back into a somewhat lazy ponytail.

She crouches down behind you, putting her arms around your neck. She looks at you in the mirror, and you look back.

“Well?” You say, teasing her, looking for a thank you.

She smiles.

“Thank you, baby.” She kisses your cheek. “Always keeping me in check.”

Your phone suddenly buzzed about 20 times, and you look over to the desk chair, mouth dropping in horror as you realize you’re still on live.

Fuck.

You’re still on live.

“Shit!” You practically screech, grabbing your phone and panicking, hitting buttons randomly before opting to just close the app altogether. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Caroline is completely frozen behind you.

“Were you… just… on live?”

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, and suddenly tears are streaming down your face faster than you can stop them, and all you can do is watch your pretty makeup get slowly ruined. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, I- I don’t- I’m sorry.”

Her hands come to your shoulders and she fully sits down behind you, massaging your shoulders gently as she kisses the back of your head, shushing you softly.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetheart.” Her lips move against your hair. “Baby, it’s okay.”

She doesn’t try to comfort you beyond that, just calling you baby and telling you it’s okay, even though you want to scream that it’s not. It’s not okay.

She just lets you cry. And you cry, you cry for what feels like twelve hours.

“Y/N,” she finally whispers.

“What?” You moan back, sniffling.

“What are you thinking right now?”

You scoff at the ridiculous question.

But, you can’t help but lean back into her. She wraps her arms around you, keeping your arms tucked to your sides, her legs outside of yours, touching you- you never feel safer than you do when you’re in her arms like this.

“I’m thinking I’m the worst girlfriend in the world, and-”

You’re cut off by another sob.

“I’m so sorry,” you say again, because all you can do right now is apologize. “Are you mad?”

“Am I mad? Baby, I’m fine. It’s completely fine. Maybe this wasn’t the most perfect, thought-out way to launch “us,” but it’s okay. I promise, I’m not mad. And I promise it’s going to be okay.”

“Caroline,” you groan.

“What, baby?” She asks, kissing your cheek.

“I don’t know. Why did we even do this in the first place?”

“You cried. Because of the hate comments. And I don’t want to see you cry. But that was so long ago, babe, now you’re really famous. I mean, you have, what, 5000 followers? That’s impressive. We… we were just so new back then, and I was scared that you would break up with me. It was me. I was scared. I told you, I just want you all to myself.”

“I wouldn’t break up with you over that.”

“Well, I know that now,” she smiles.

You finally manage to open your eyes, meeting her gaze in the reflection. You look like a mess.

“I don’t know how you manage to stay so pretty when you cry.”

You try to hide a laugh, but you can’t.

“I’m sorry that we didn’t get to control how we did it, but I’m not sorry that we kept it for hidden longer. It was time, babe- it was getting on my nerves. All the bugging me about who I was kissing after games… I was done with it. I love you, and this is nothing.”

“I love you,” you repeat.

“And this is nothing.”

“Honestly,” she starts, loosening her grip on you. “We made this into a big thing.”

“We did,” you chuckle. You glance at your phone, still readily receiving texts. The notifications you originally got were from your friends who were on the live, who had saw Caroline kiss your cheek and call you baby, and immediately freaked out and texted you, realizing you had forgotten you were on live. “Whatever. This is nothing. We’re together, everyone knows, it’s fine.”

“And if anyone has a problem with that, you have 5000 followers to attack them with.”

You roll your eyes. “I would argue your, what, 35 thousand is more impressive and effective?”

“Same difference. Wait, hold on, can I get your autograph? You’re literally my favorite celebrity, like, ever. I would die for you, I love you so much.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry- no more autographs today. My hand is cramping from writing so many,” you frown, flexing your hand dramatically.

“Can I get a kiss then?”

“Very weird thing to ask a celebrity, but… you’re hot, sure.”

@y/n she chose me she don’t want u 💋

> View 327 comments

user-1 most iconic way to announce a relationship ever i fear

kkharvey4 love u baby so glad ur all mine

user-2 @/kkharvey4 hey thanks for ripping my heart out of my chest… happy for u or whatever tho

user-3 GODDDD THEYRE SO CUTE IM DEAD

user-4 fuck she’s beautiful… can’t even be mad

user-5 ok but they ate… power couple fr…

user-6 this reminds me of the day kate martin hard launched. i need to mourn

user-7 bitch i fucking called it

#caroline harvey #caroline harvey x reader #kk harvey #kk harvey x reader

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