#makes me laugh every time i think about it

[tvgals]

satoru loves making brownies with you.

he loves making brownies because of the way you used to insist on licking the bowl clean because it has more batter in it for you to eat. satoru was never the kind to eat brownies, says they’re too chocolaty, that was until you made him the best batch of brownies known to man which made him hooked in return.

satoru loves making brownies because it reminds him of the way you used to giggle when satoru would playfully smear a little batter on your face and how it would tickle you purple when he licked it off your face.

he hates how he can never get your recipe to taste the same when he makes it, that when he makes brownies now, there’s no sound of you giggling or asking what movie he wants to watch. satoru drives to your tombstone everytime he makes brownies and brings a couple extra for you to try.

“i know they’re no ‘y/n brownies’ but i tried my best.” he laughs softly to himself, looking into the eyes of the little picture they had of you on your tomb. “i miss you every day, beautiful.” he admits to almost no one, sniffling. his eyes water, in all the times he’s visited you, the tears never stop. he can’t believe that after six years, he won’t ever hear your voice or feel your warmth again. “i think about you all the time, y/n. i don’t even touch your side of the bed incase you ever decide to come back to me.” he smiles, breaking off a piece of his brownie and placing it on the side of your grave. “i just wish you could come back…even if it was for a day.” satoru is full on sobbing now, wiping snot and tears from his carefully sculpted face.

satoru loved making brownies with you.

[cacoetheswriting]

i am weak for shy and nervous eddie munson who fumbles when around his crush. imagine him pining over this girl who he’s never even talked to, (maybe they have different social circles) and he just sees her around with her friends and he is smitten and then one day they accidentally bump into each other and she’s like ���you’re eddie right?” and you know he’d be so flustered.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.2k

content warnings: lovesick eddie, pining, a little self-deprecation and self-doubt, mostly cheese and fluff, adult language - wildly unedited, oops.

“I hate this fucking school.”

The group exchange knowing glances as Eddie sits at the table with a grumble. His lunch tray lands with a low crash, nearly colliding with Gareth’s juicebox and therefore spilling its contents all over. A huff and quick reflexes on Jeff’s part save the group from catastrophe, more importantly, save the homework the boy had yet to finish ahead of next period. 

Eddie however, doesn’t notice the mess he has almost created. Frankly, he’s not paying attention. Even when Gareth tells him to, “Watch it, dude.”. The metal-head flicks his hand to say he’s sorry for whatever it is that his friends are chastising him for, but his eyes are fixed ahead, on the sole reason he’s in such a grumpy mood.

You.

Or rather Steve the dick Harrington, who’s got his arm draped shamelessly around your shoulders, as if he wasn’t just publicly humiliating Nancy Wheeler — since up until mere twenty-four hours ago, Hawkins High thought the blue-eyed girl was the King’s girlfriend, not you.

Eddie’s miserable. When did this happen? How did this even happen?

Last night, Steve and Nancy were all over each other. Eddie knows this to be fact since he saw them together at that party he wasn’t invited to as a guest, but to work because the popular kids always need a fix and he needs to make a living if he’s ever going to leave this shithole town. Anyway, that’s when Eddie saw the “it” couple and yet, now Nancy is nowhere to be seen and you’re snuggling into Harrington.

“I hate this fucking school,” Eddie repeats, sticking his fork into today’s cafeteria lunch. “Everyone is so two-faced and fake. No one has any integrity.”

The guys don’t need to follow his line of sight because they know very well who and what the metal-head is talking about.

“Maybe if you just talked to her, then you wouldn’t be so miserable today.” Jeff notes without looking up from his homework. “Plus, I overheard Charmaine tell Julie that Harrington is continuing to hold a candle for Nancy. This thing over there, that you’re obsessing over, is just friends being friends.”

“Doesn’t look like just friends to me,” Eddie grumbles, then looks at Jeff. “And I tried talking to her. It’s just, every time I do, my mind goes blank.”

Gareth rolls his eyes. “Dude, she’s not some superbeing. She’s a girl from our school. You’ve got no problem talking to other girls?”

Eddie doesn’t say anything because how does he go about explaining to his friends that to him, you’re more than a girl from school. It’s embarrassing enough how he’s never talked to you and yet, you occupy his entire mind and soul. The guys think it’s just another crush. Eddie knows it’s not. He can’t tell them though because they’ll laugh him out of it. Eddie the freak Munson is very much pining after a girl who doesn’t know he exists. Pathetic.

So, as any respectable guy in his situation would, Eddie continues to wallow in his own self-pity. 

He stares at you throughout the remainder of the lunch break, narrowly avoiding your gaze here and there by simply looking away. His downcast humour continues throughout the rest of the day. Since he doesn’t often engage in class anyway, the teachers pay him no mind. Although, their reasons are different: a quiet Eddie Munson is better than one who causes various disturbances. After the final bell ring, he hurries out of the building and blares music the entire drive home, to fizz out his thoughts.

Called into work. Here’s some cash. Go to the diner. 

Wayne

Eddie sighs. The one thing he was hoping for were his uncle's words of wisdom, although it seems that will also have to wait. Eddie slides the note into the pocket of his denim jeans and he is out the door again.

The diner is about thirty minutes away from the trailer, by foot. The metal-head decided to walk it anyway, hoping the fresh air would knock some sense into him because he’s got no business feeling this emotionally shattered. 

Maybe if he wasn’t such a bitch boy around you, things would be different. Unfortunately, for some reason, ever since he first laid eyes on you, Eddie’s default is shy.

Okay, maybe you and Harrington are a thing now, so what? Eddie’s got no claim on you, unspoken or otherwise. You can date whoever, even if it’s Steve the asshole. It’s also not like you and Nancy are friends. Everyone at school knows you two run in different circles, meaning no girl-code is being broken. There is also the possibility of what Jeff overheard from Charmaine and Julie being true: you and Harrington are nothing but friends. Very friendly friends. Touchy, feely. And Eddie would have noticed earlier if it were simply the case of friendship, therefore, he concludes that you are in fact dating Steve the douche Harrington and he somehow has to come to terms with it.

Eddie pushes the door open and makes a beeline for an empty booth. He orders a burger with fries and a soda from the middle-aged waitress, then whips out a notebook from his backpack while he waits. The only one he carries and it’s not for any schoolwork. The numbers scribbled hastily in the margins are easily mistaken for maths, but that’s just business. He focuses instead on the latest D&D campaign he’s working on.

For a moment, the metal-head forgets about today's events. He gets lost in the fictional world he’s creating. The made up monsters replace any harboured thoughts of you with Steve the turd, although one closely resembles Harrington's famous head of hair and he smirks, proud of himself for the immaturity. He figures if girls can write about their demons in journals, he can bring them into D&D. Bring them, then kill them.

He’s just about finished marking a big cross over the doodle of monster Steve when a figure steps in front of the light, creating a shadow over his notebook. Eddie sighs, foot tapping underneath the table in frustration. He’s about to make a rude remark, but when he looks up to meet the eyes of the perpetrator, he’s met with your wide gaze and naturally, he freezes.

“I like your drawings,” you say.

“Uhm, t-thanks,” he fumbles.

“You’re Eddie, right?”

All he can do is nod in response and you smile. Small and charming. Enough to make the brunette’s head spin and pinch his leg because he can’t believe this is happening. Surely, this must be a dream of some sort. He came home and passed out on the sofa. The only logical explanation for why you would be talking to him, complementing his stupid little doodles. The only logical explanation for why you know his fucking name.

“We’ve never officially met,” you begin and reach out your hand. 

Eddie glances at it and without really thinking, he utters, “I know who you are.”

It comes out a little more mean than he intends it to, he knows because you retreat your hand as if you’ve been burned. Eddie’s heart stings. Now he knows it’s real since only he’d be stupid enough to ruin a good thing before it even began. He’s an asshole.

“Sorry,” he mumbles quickly, then straightens in his seat. “Do you wanna sit? I-I have fries.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek for how incredibly pathetic that sounded; fries. You however, don’t notice and you’re also kind enough not to point out how he’s stumbling about his words like a little schoolkid.

“I love french fries.”

And with that, you’re sliding into the booth, across from him.

Eddie watches in disbelief as you help yourself to his food, not just the potato side, as if the two of you have been friends a lifetime. Then, probably to confuse him even more, you start telling him about how your parents locked you out and how it’s nice to see a familiar face, while he’s sitting there in silence, taking it all in, wondering whether perhaps this was some cruel joke Harrington and his band of losers were playing on him.

He wants to ask. Save himself the embarrassment if this does end up being a prank and tomorrow’s gossip: Eddie the freak Munson thought he had a chance. You keep talking, only taking small pauses to take bites out of his food or a sip of his soda, and to Eddie’s surprise nothing happens. No one jumps out screaming, laughing, pointing at him. This is really happening and he is truly baffled.

“Can we get another burger meal and the same soda?” You order from the waitress when she comes around to check the tables and afterwards, turn to look at Eddie, smile ever present. “Kinda ate most of yours.”

“It’s fine,” he manages to say.

For the first time since you sat down, it’s quiet. Now you’re the one staring at him, head tilted slightly to the one side. The smile on your face transforms into something more thoughtful, as if you were trying to read his mind — which is exactly the same thing Eddie was trying to do to you.

“So,” you begin again, “What were you scribbling intently before I crashed the party?”

“Just some stuff for an afterschool thing,” Eddie answers with a shrug, voice a little shaky.

“Mysterious.”

The sparkle in your eyes screams that you want to know more, but the metal-head is hesitant to share. Even though this wasn’t part of some scheme by Hawkins’ finest, it didn’t mean there wasn’t a different underlying reason as to why you were taking interest in him and he didn’t like when people made a fool of him.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Did your parents really lock you out?” He questions.

A brow goes up, it seems you are surprised at his push back. 

“Yes,” you say matter-of-factly, then add, “They do this sort of thing from time to time. They’re big hippies, so it’s not like neglect or anything. It’s weed. They don’t want me home when they’re high because they think it would make me undermine their authority.”

Eddie smirks and you tell him it’s not funny, but he can’t help the chuckle leave his throat. When you throw a fry at him across the table, smiling wide, he’s no longer feeling the nervous bubble. In fact, he’s suddenly quite relaxed.

“I’m sorry that I’m a good daughter. Next time I’ll be sure to pick a less judgemental table” you say dramatically, although the grin doesn’t leave your features.

The brunette lifts his hands in front of his chest in a defence motion.

“No judgement here. My social status requires me to second guess reasons people have for talking to me. I had to make sure your boyfriend wasn’t going to jump me the second we stepped outside.”

“Boyfriend?” You seem genuinely taken aback by the assumption.

“Harrington,” he clarifies, although he’s not sure why he should be.

Until you laugh. It’s soft and tender, but it’s a laugh nonetheless.

“Steve’s not my boyfriend,” you state in between giggles, “He’s madly in love with Wheeler. God, does the whole school think we’re dating? He’s gonna hate that. Poor Nancy.”

Eddie blinks. Seems Julie’s information was correct, but it still doesn’t explain the closeness and the banter the entire cafeteria was witness to. He feels weird for letting this bother him so much and even though he usually has difficulties keeping his big mouth shut, he doesn’t want you thinking he’s some sort of pervert, so he doesn't say anything, simply bops his head.

Although, his silence doesn’t seem to deter you.

“I noticed you staring,” you admit, half a decibel lower. 

A fresh burger and fries land on the table, followed by a large Coca-Cola. The waitress mutters something along the lines of enjoy, then walks away to tend to another table.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do next: admit or deny. He’d rather go back to fifteen minutes ago when you were eating his food and he wasn’t talking. Therefore, he slides the burger closer to himself and in one swift motion, lifts it to his lips, taking a bite too big for his mouth. He doesn’t care what he looks like at the moment, he just needs to keep himself quiet before saying something else he’s going to regret.

Across the table, you’re all smiley again.

“Do you think, when you’re done eating, you could walk me home?” You ask, offering him a napkin. 

As he nods, he reaches for the paper cloth and his fingers brush yours delicately. There’s a zap of electricity, but if you feel it, you don’t react. Eddie’s continuing with the shyness, so he looks down at the burger in his hand and pretends nothing happened to him either.

It’s not until you lean over the table, index finger stretched and inching forward to touch his face, wiping leftover ketchup from the corner of his mouth, that the metal-head thinks maybe, just maybe, you feel some type of way about him too because that’s not what a person does for someone they only officially met minutes before.

Afterwards, you say, “I’ll tell you all about how I’ve been watching you too.”, and Eddie nearly chokes on his food.

thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

[missdynamighttt]

asking bf! katsuki what he feels about prenups makes you fall in love with him all over again.

you were lounging on the couch, legs draped across katsuki’s lap as the tv played some random show neither of you were really watching. his hand rested on your thigh, thumb tracing absentminded circles while you scrolled through your phone.

the thought hit you out of nowhere, and before you could second-guess yourself, you blurted it out.

"hey, what do you think about prenups?"

katsuki froze mid-circle. his eyes shifted from the tv to you, brow furrowing. "the fuck?"

"a prenup," you repeated, sitting up slightly. "y’know, legal agreements before marriage, just in case things go south. if we get married."

"when we get married," he corrected automatically. his brows drew together. "why the hell are you askin’ me about prenups?"

you shrugged, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "i dunno. i was just curious. a lot of people get them."

katsuki scoffed, sitting up straighter. "yeah, greedy assholes who don't trust each other."

"not always," you countered. "sometimes it's just making sure both people feel secure. it doesn't mean you don't trust each other. to protect assets, just in case—"

katsuki scoffed, cutting you off. "just in case? you plannin’ on leaving me or somethin’?"

your eyes widened. "what? no! i'm just saying—"

he made a face, the kind he always did when he thought something was bullshit.

"tch. i don't need some dumbass piece of paper to tell me what's yours or mine."

"'sides..." he shifted, his hand sliding from your thigh to your chin, tilting your face toward his. "everything i got's yours anyway."

your heart skipped a beat. "everything?"

"yeah. the apartment, the money, the dumb shit i spend on workout gear. all yours. even me," his thumb brushed over your bottom lip. "especially me."

you swallowed hard, warmth flooding your chest. "that’s... really sweet."

his lips twitched into a smirk. "yeah? so does that mean i get all your shit too? ain’t that how it works?"

you grinned. "sure. you can have my stuffed toy collection and my 2 digit savings account."

"fuck yeah," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "knew you were a catch."

you laughed, swatting his chest. he caught your wrist easily, kissing each and every knuckle. his face softened as he looked at you, calloused hand cradling the back of your head.

"don’t need a prenup, pretty," he said, quieter this time. "what we got... it ain't temporary. i'm all in. always."

your heart melted on the spot. "yeah?"

"yeah," he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours. "if things do go south, we talk. ‘cause i’d rather die than let you go."

your heart stuttered in your chest. you were expecting some casual discussion, maybe even some banter, but instead, you got this—your boyfriend looking at you like he’d burn the world down before letting anyone take you away from him.

"...so, no prenup?" you squeaked.

katsuki huffed, pressing a firm kiss to your lips. "no fucking prenup."

"now quit talkin' about stupid legal shit and kiss me."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ hii! inspired by @gojosprettyprincess 's post about opinions on prenups and thought this up >< i PROMISE i will do some requests before i get to the twitter porn links with katsuki^^ hope you guys enjoy!!

[covenofagatha]

Four times Agatha fails at cockwarming (and one time she doesn't)

The Third Attempt

Based on the third part of this brainworm

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, cockwarming, breeding kink, spanking, jealousy, bratty!reader, light degradation, mommy kink

When Agatha comes downstairs in the morning the next weekend, wearing a purple crewneck and gray sweatpants with loose hair, you’re already awake and doing yoga in the living room in nothing but a bra and underwear. 

She takes one look at you and snorts, already in tune with the game you’re trying to play. “What happened to wearing clothes while working out?” 

You shoot her an impish wink from a tree pose. “Didn’t you hear, mommy? Clothes are so restrictive, especially for yoga. You want to have a full range of motion so you can bend any way you want.” Your voice drops suggestively low and she squints and nods like you’re making perfect sense. 

“Of course, why didn’t I think of that?” 

Shrugging, you put your foot down and shake out your aching limbs. You haven’t done yoga in months, but you just felt in the mood for something different. Absolutely no ulterior motives whatsoever. “I would’ve done it completely naked, but that would’ve been indecent.” 

Agatha actually laughs. “You—indecent? Never, honey.” You blow her a kiss as you assume warrior pose and she walks into the kitchen and you hear her pouring herself a cup of coffee. 

She walks back in and takes a seat on the couch, slurping from her mug and watching you with scrutinizing eyes. 

“Want to join?” you ask, a little out of breath when you finally sit down and bend your knees, pushing the soles of your feet together in the butterfly pose. Coincidentally, also giving her a perfect view of the already-wet gusset of your underwear. Even the mere sight of her is enough to get you turned on.

Agatha shifts on the couch before shaking her head. “I’m good to just watch.” 

You smirk and lay on your back, legs bent in the air, and you grip your ankles in the happy baby pose. She chokes on her coffee. “Babe, can you help me for a second? I think I need to get into more of a stretch.” 

“It looks good to me,” she says, voice taut, and you have to bite on your lip to stop from laughing before fixing your face into a pleading look. 

“Please? I can barely feel anything. And if I can’t feel it, that means I’m not going to make any progress,” you pout. She raises an eyebrow. You both know you’re not trying to progress to anything in yoga and you’re just trying to tease her. 

Because even after Agatha fucking you every single day this past week, you’re still insatiable and your need to be a brat will always prevail. 

So she sighs and slinks off the couch, crawling over to you on her knees and putting her hands on the underside of your thighs, keeping her body a safe difference from yours. “Is this okay?” she murmurs and gently pushes your legs up more. You notice the pointed effort she’s making to not look down at your covered cunt that is positioned right toward her face. 

“I think I need to have a deeper stretch,” you say and yank her closer by the collar of her crewneck. Her hands let go of your legs in surprise and catch herself on the floor, her face above yours and her bulge now positioned right against your pussy. She sucks in air quickly and moves to pull away, but you lock your legs around her back, crossing your ankles. “There we go.” 

“I somehow doubt this is proper form,” she rasps, her gaze darting from your eyes to your lips and then back up. 

You raise your hips gently and smirk. “What do you mean? Doesn’t it feel good, mommy? This is what yoga’s all about.” 

Her jaw clenches and her cock twitches against you. “Oh, yeah? Yoga’s all about being a needy slut?” You gasp, heat tearing through you, and you grind up again before nodding with a grin. 

“Exactly.” You peck her lips with yours. “Now it’s time for child’s pose.” You push her off you and she clears her throat before giving her cock a quick stroke through her sweats. You turn over onto your hands and knees, giving her a perfect view of your ass. She sharply inhales and you smirk to yourself before sitting back on your heels and extending your arms out. 

It does actually feel really good and you can’t help but wonder how it would feel for Agatha to fuck you like this. You might not have to wait long to find out, judging by how easily affected she is. 

“Agatha, can you?” you prompt and she tentatively reaches out to cup your asscheeks with both hands and rock you forward. Her labored breathing echoes through the room. “Not like that. Like, lay on me. It’s the only way you’re really going to be able to help.”

She grumbles something unintelligible, probably about how full of it you are, before you hear her scooch forward and then her weight drapes on top of you. Her loose hair spills down and tickles your cheek and her cock is pushed into the cleft of your ass. You sway your hips from side to side, enjoying the whimper in your ear.  

Then you clench your cunt around nothing and she moans—heat spreads through you and pools in your underwear because you didn’t think she’d actually be able to feel it. 

“Mommy,” you admonish, just because you want to push her further, “I’m just trying to get a good workout in and you’re trying to distract me by pressing your hard cock against me like that. Now who’s the indecent one?”

You can practically hear her roll her eyes before she growls, “How many times do I have to fuck you speechless before you learn to stop being bratty?” 

Chuckling, you rise back to your hands and knees, moving Agatha with you as well, and you feel her cock throb. “Time for cat-cows.” 

Before she can ask what that is, you arch your back and look up to the ceiling, pause for a quick breath, and then round your back out, tuck your chin inwards, and look towards your belly button. You repeat the motion over and over, essentially twerking your cunt against her throbbing cock until she grabs onto your hips with a steel-like grip. 

“I think you’ve got it from here,” she gasps, pats your ass, and then stands back up. You turn over so you’re sitting on the mat and you watch her limp back over to the couch before starting to look for something. 

Your brows furrow as she digs through the pillows before she whirls around to you. Her cock is prominent through her gray pants and you can actually see the outlines of the veins because of how hard she’s straining. Your mouth waters—you want her cock in your mouth right now.

“Have you seen my phone?” Agatha asks, breaking you out of your horny stupor. You shake your head. You’re not even sure you saw her bring it downstairs. “Can you call it?” 

Grabbing your phone off the coffee table, you hold down the side button and make eye contact with her, a wicked grin on your face. “Call mommy,” you say. 

She scoffs. “Yeah, right, that’s not my contact. You have a job, what if I called—” 

“Calling mommy,” Siri says and then there’s a ringing noise from the kitchen. You wink smugly at her stunned face. Obviously you have to be very careful when checking your phone at work and you’ve definitely come close to an embarrassing moment a few times, but this was so worth it. 

Agatha swallows before going to get her phone and when she comes back, she’s scrolling on it with a frown. 

“Everything okay?” you ask, still on your spot on the ground. 

She purses her lips and looks up to you. “You know that annual teacher thing we do?” You nod. Each year, the school Agatha works at does a gala for all the staff—super fancy, great food, even an auction. You’ve gone to the last three of them with her and you always have a fun time for the most part. “I completely forgot it’s tomorrow afternoon. You don’t have to come if you’re busy or working or doing more yoga.” 

You laugh sarcastically before standing up and wrapping your arms around your middle and pushing your tits up and together so she gulps. “Will Rio be there?” you ask cautiously and she gives you a stern look. 

Rio Vidal is the Biology teacher and you are absolutely convinced she has a crush on your wife. Every gala you’ve been to, Rio has found a way to steal Agatha away from you for at least half an hour and you see the way Rio looks at her. 

“Yes, Rio will be there,” Agatha sighs. “And for the last time—” 

“What about Wanda?” you interrupt and Agatha’s gaze narrows. Two can play this game and you know exactly the right buttons to push. “You know, the English teacher, the one with the red hair and the green eyes who always wears the most beautiful outfits?” 

She nods curtly. “Why do you care if she’ll be there?” 

You shrug with a simper and slowly start to sashay over to where she’s standing before perching on the edge of the couch. She arches her brow and you can see the heat in her eyes. “She’s really nice and always keeps me company when you run off with Rio, leaving me all lonely.” 

Agatha’s nose flares and the vein in her head twitches. “You need to be careful,” she seethes. 

“Or what, mommy? Going to punish me?” You pout mockingly, knowing you have her right where you want her. “Remember what happened the last two times you tried to cockwarm me? I bet if Wanda had a cock, she wouldn’t blow her load before she even got inside me.” 

Her growl is animalistic and you think you may have crossed a line before she grabs onto your wrists, pulls you up, and then spins you around and bends you over the side of the couch. “You are such a brat,” she says and roughly spanks you, making you moan loudly. 

“Fuck, mommy.” 

She slaps your ass again and your hips jerk forward against the couch, your clit pulsing. “Tell me who you belong to,” she demands and you shake your head. You want her to make you say it. 

Agatha chuckles dangerously before tracing two fingers up your clothed slit and pushing the soaked fabric into you. You groan and arch your back for just a bit more stimulation. 

But then she spanks you again and you jump. “First, you rub yourself all over me while you’re doing yoga like a slut. And then you try to make me jealous? God, you’re really just asking for it, aren’t you, honey?” 

You look over your shoulder at her and bite your lip with big, doe eyes: the picture of innocence. “Asking for what?” 

She scoffs and runs her tongue against her bottom lip before spanking both asscheeks simultaneously. “Who do you belong to?” Your head drops down with a groan. 

“Please, mommy, I need you,” you whine. Another spank. Your cunt is throbbing right now, absolutely aching for her cock. “I need you to fuck me so bad right now.” 

Agatha soothes your raw skin. “I know, honey. I’ll give you what you want if you just tell me. Or else, I’ll just have to get creative.” 

The promise makes you perk up. Your wife loves to get creative—and it can either be heaven or hell for you. The time she made you ride her while holding a vibrator to your clit until you squirted all over her was one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. Making you wear a vibrator and edging you over ten times in public and then not letting you cum until the next day was tortuous. 

“Creative, how?” you ask and she spanks you even rougher than the ones before, making you yelp. Heat has flushed through you and your breathing is heavy—you know you won’t last long no matter what she does. 

She hums, rubbing your ass while thinking about it. “Maybe I’ll just tie you to the bed and not touch you for the rest of the day.”

“Why don’t you show me that you can cockwarm me?” you suggest, voice thick with desire. You would do anything to get her inside your empty pussy right now. She spanks you one last time before grabbing you by the scruff of your neck and pulling you up. 

“Tell me who you belong to and I will,” she says lowly and you don’t have it in you to resist anymore. 

“I’m yours, mommy, I’m all yours—please, I need you so bad,” you pant and she nods in satisfaction before ordering you to get upstairs. Your panties cling to you with every step that you take and her footsteps echo behind you all the way to your bedroom. 

You sit on the edge of the bed, chewing on your bottom lip, while Agatha strips off her crewneck, sweatpants, and boxers. Her cock is, no surprise, pointing right at you, hard, red, and leaking precum onto the floor. She gives herself a quick stroke and then freezes—you think she might lose it right then and there, but she doesn’t. You let out a breath of relief. It would’ve been slightly disappointing to have her not even get inside you again. 

There’s something about the pressure of cockwarming that really gets to her. Every other time she has no problem fucking you. 

Or maybe it’s because of the incessant teasing you give her that has consistently been proceeding it. 

“Mommy,” you whine and she snorts before stalking over to you. Agatha stands over you and cups your cheek gently before roughly shoving two fingers into your mouth. You gag around them and she begins to fuck your mouth, her cock twitching and weeping onto your legs. 

She pulls out and smears your saliva all over your face before climbing onto the bed and sitting next to you. She nods and you straddle her, your covered cunt finally against her bare cock and you moan at the heat radiating from it. 

Agatha’s arms wrap around your back to unclasp your bra and then she slides it down your arms and throws it somewhere in the room. She reaches down to move your underwear to the side and slides her fingers through your wet folds and she tosses her head back when your wetness drips onto her cock. 

She rubs your clit but you’re done waiting—you push her down so her back is on the bed and then position your entrance at the tip of her cock before sheathing her inside you in one motion. You say a silent prayer that she doesn’t cum. 

You both groan and your eyes close, her cock filling you deliciously. Agatha bucks beneath you, but she doesn’t lose control. 

“I’m impressed,” you tease and she thrusts sharply into you before she realizes that it only makes it harder for her too. The stretch is satiating the ache, but you need so much more, so you begin to rock back and forth slowly. 

Agatha’s hands shoot out and grab your waist, stilling you. “This is your punishment,” she grits out. “Don’t move.” You pout but obey, the hunger in your cunt coming back with a vengeance. She’s so deep inside you, the tip of her cock resting against your g-spot, and tears prick your eyes with how it feels. 

So it’s really not your fault when you can’t help but start to rut occasionally and she whimpers, nails digging into your skin. Her face has turned red, her mouth is open and panting, her eyes are dark and pleading. 

“Mommy,” you say slowly and she whimpers. As hard as this is for you, it looks like it’s even worse for her. “Please? Can you please fuck me?” 

She shakes her head with a muffled, pained grunt. “Not until you learn your lesson.” 

If the lesson is that your wife is less composed than a horny teenager when it comes to you and your cunt, you think it’s safe to say that you’ve learned it. She’s going crazy right now—and all you have to do is turn the tables a little. 

“I’m yours, mommy,” you say breathlessly and start to grind. Her eyes go wide and you coax your own nipples to hardness with your fingers. She instinctively thrusts up into you and you moan loudly. Her hair is sprawled out beneath her and she looks like she might cry. “These tits? All yours.” You slide a hand up to trace your lips and then suck on two fingers like she made you do earlier. “This mouth? All yours.” 

The muscles in her neck are taut and she’s making even more sounds, especially when you clench around her cock to accentuate your words. 

You reach between your bodies and rub your clit. “This cunt? All yours.” You make sure to press your wet fingers against her cock as you roll your hips and she bucks again. 

“Honey, honey, please,” Agatha begs, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out on her chest, “you need to stop. Stop moving. Please, I can’t—” 

You brush your hand against her nipple and she cuts herself off with a loud groan. “Come on, mommy. It’s okay. You can just give in and fuck me.” 

She shakes her head and screws her eyes shut tightly when you lift yourself up and then drop down on her cock. “Honey,” she pleads quietly and she throbs inside you. 

Leaning down, you start to pepper kisses along her collarbone and chest. “I know you need to fill me up, right? You need to breed me?” 

Agatha whimpers like she’s been wounded and her cock twitches violently. You slowly inch up, feeling her veins drag against every ridge inside you and then you drop down fast and she keens, her back arching off the bed. You’re still very impressed that she hasn’t cum yet and you’re getting close as well. 

“Baby, please,” she whispers, hands grappling at your waist to try and hold you still again, but it’s weak and you keep steadily riding her, “this isn’t even cockwarming.” 

You muse on that and then stop, opting to just clench around her and she groans. Both of you know that you don’t need to be moving to make her cum. You swirl your tongue around her nipple and tug on it with your teeth and she squirms and breathes louder. “I need you to fill me up, mommy,” you whine and she sobs before bucking up just once. “I need you to breed me. Need you to breed my hot, wet cunt that’s all yours. It was made for you, mommy—I was made for you.” 

“Oh, fuck—honey, fuck,” she babbles and her cock swells. A thrill runs through you and you clench involuntarily. “Gonna breed you, mommy’s gonna fill you up, you’re gonna be so full of me.”

Tension builds in your lower back and you decide to give her what she needs. “Cum for me, mommy,” you say hoarsely, rocking your hips and scraping your teeth against her breast and her cock throbs before she lets out a long, guttural cry of relief and you feel her hot seed paint your walls white. 

She flips you onto your back so she’s on top and starts thrusting wildly into you through her orgasm, finding your clit and rubbing it while she sucks on your nipple, and you can feel her cum being pumped into you and then leaking out. 

“Fuck, mommy,” you whine and she’s getting softer but she doesn’t stop until you cum too, adding to the mix of fluids seeping out of your cunt and onto the bed. 

Agatha collapses on top of you, pressing kisses to your sweaty forehead and then she finds your mouth and she tugs on your bottom lip. Your limbs are entangled and both of you are sticky now, but you lay like that for a few minutes, just soaking each other in until she finally sits up and pulls out of you. There’s a gush of cum from your pussy and you weakly hump up against nothing when you watch Agatha’s cock twitch. 

“Little Aggie did such a great job making it that long,” you mumble, still slightly delirious from your intense orgasm. 

Your wife chokes and looks down, flabbergasted. “What did you just call my cock?” 

You giggle. “You don’t like it? I think it’s cute.”  

“Little Aggie? She’s not even little,” Agatha scoffs. “And I’d like to point out that if you had actually cockwarmed me correctly instead of moving around and talking, I would’ve lasted even longer.” 

“Pfft,” you wave dismissively. “Please, you never stood a chance, you can’t blame that on me. Not my fault you’re too desperate for me.” 

She leans in to kiss you, long and slow. “It’s all your fault.” 

“You know what?” you ask, breaking away and resting your forehead against hers. “I think I’ll take full responsibility for that. And don’t worry about failing again. There’s always next time.” 

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs @agathascoven1 @loneliestafterparty

[personapeters]

✰ 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐣 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

— kook or pogue; doesn’t matter, simply your sweet boyfriend, jj

rating: sfw — cw: slightly suggestive

— boyfriend jj who… insists on physically lifting you into and out of the boat every time, or at the very least holding your hands. the one time you leapt out when his back was turned, you lost your footing and almost tumbled into the water, to which jj was very displeased: “alright, nope, see, that’s why we don’t do that.”

— boyfriend jj who… thinks you’re the funniest person on the planet — the way he cackles at every joke you tell makes you question if it’s forced, or exaggerated at the least, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. your humor matches his so perfectly that everything you say or do he only wishes he would have thought of first. the two of you are constantly a nonstop giggling mess full of silly inside jokes and plain stupidity.

— boyfriend jj who… thrives off of long hugs with you; specifically when it feels more like you’re just holding him. hiding his face in your neck and breathing you in calms his nerves in a way that smoking weed never could.

— boyfriend jj who… is absolutely mesmerized by everything you do; whether that be your makeup (he thinks you’re the artist and the art), or simply steering the boat (the way the wind blows in your hair and the sun highlights each and every shade is unreal). he often finds himself completely zoned out of reality with soft blue eyes as he marvels in awe at everything that is you. he's often chewing the inside of his lip as he stares, quickly averting his gaze to his hands when you look his way, though it’s always so obvious.

— boyfriend jj who… loves when you come to watch him surf, though it’s stressful watching him disappear under the waves for what feels like minutes at a time. but, without fail, he always ends up running to you with a big, toothy smile as he wraps a cold, muscular arm around your waist, pressing wet, salty lips to yours as he beams with excitement: “babe, did you fuckin’ see that?!”

— boyfriend jj who… isn’t too good at saying ‘i love you’ but shows it in everything he does: plucking you random flowers (and weeds, though he doesn’t know that), fixing your top as you chat amongst friends, keeping a hair tie on his wrist because he just knows you’re going to need one, always keeping physical touch with you in some way (absentmindedly twirling your hair, resting your legs on his lap, holding your hand, leaning on your shoulder).

— boyfriend jj who… tries to contain his himself but is more than willing to get in a fight when it comes to you; whether it be one too many comments made about you in order to taunt him or another man’s hand lingering on yours for way too long, jj is quick to set things straight no matter who it puts him up against.

— boyfriend jj who… gets jealous very easily but tries his hardest to control it. before you started dating, he would simply avert his attention or walk away from any situation involving you and a guy, knowing he shouldn’t be jealous but he couldn’t help it. now that you’re officially his, his emotion is worn clearly on his face.

— boyfriend jj who… falls asleep virtually anywhere, as long as you were around. he hates it, obviously wanting to be awake when he’s with you, but the feeling of genuine comfort and safety you give him is nothing like he’d ever felt at home, or anywhere, so he often finds his head on your lap or shoulder, fighting a slumber.

— boyfriend jj who… likes to take off his cap and place it backwards on your head whenever you’re making out, always laughing into the kiss whenever it inevitably falls over your eyes.

— boyfriend jj who… noticed your awestruck reaction to once finding the ‘perfect’ seashell in the sand and now brings you the prettiest, shiniest, most perfect seashells he can find — no matter who it inconveniences: “dude, it’s been, like, twenty minutes! can’t we just buy one somewhere?” pope groaned. “yeah, let me get a fake i.d. and forge a check, too, since we’re frauds now,” jj scoffed.

— boyfriend jj who… has absolutely no filter so he often just says things that you then have to somehow answer for: “is your hair supposed to look like that?” he’d wonder aloud innocently. “jj!” you’d whisper before clearing your throat, “he just means did you have to use any product or-or anything or is it naturally so pretty?”

— boyfriend jj who… remembers all the little things about you, despite his forgetful and oblivious nature, often taking you by surprise when he mentions them: “nah, you won’t like that, s’got peanut butter in it.” or "wait, the same girl who kicked down your sandcastle in third grade? i hate that bitch. sorry, sorry, continue.”

— boyfriend jj who… let’s you fiddle with the numerous rings and bracelets adorning his hands whenever you want, knowing it’s a calming distraction whenever you’re anxious. often times, you’ll be sitting with his large hand on your lap, twisting and pulling at the metal around his fingers as he chatted amongst his friends, completely unfazed by your fidgeting — he’s used to (and loves) it.

— boyfriend jj who… carves the both of your initials into the trunks of numerous tree’s across the island, whether it’s one on the side of a busy street or in the depths of a secluded wood — he likes knowing that you’re etched permanently everywhere.

 personapeters 2025 — all rights reserved • masterlist

[rafesbabygirlx]

Rafe fucks his secret girlfriend in the pool. Sarah’s best friend. Up to you if they get caught or not

THIS IS SO GOOD 😫

𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚋𝚏!𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜:𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 (𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕-𝚏, 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚟)

𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

The house was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos that had filled it just hours ago. Empty cups littered the floor, the scent of spilled beer and typical frat boy kook cologne lingered in the air. You glanced over at Sarah, who was sprawled across the bed, face buried in the pillow, completely out cold. You, Sarah, Rafe, and Topper all decided to stay the night at Kelce’s afterwards.

Your phone vibrated against your thigh.

Rafe 3:05am - I think everyone’s down out here, what about Sarah?

You smirked, fingers moving quickly over the screen.

You 3:06am - She’s out.

A moment later, your phone buzzed again.

Rafe 3:07am - Good. Put on that bikini I got you. ;)

Your stomach flipped. Even after months of sneaking around, the thrill of it hadn’t faded. You glanced at Sarah one more time, making sure she wasn’t stirring, then quietly slipped out of bed.

The floor was cold beneath your bare feet as you padded over to your bag, pulling out the bikini Rafe had insisted on buying you last week. It was tiny—blue, his favorite color on you. You changed quickly, shivering slightly as the night air seeped through the open window.

Another text.

Rafe 3:10am - Meet me by the pool.

You bit your lip, excitement buzzing in your veins. Slowly, you cracked the door open, peeking into the dimly lit hallway. Silence. Carefully, you stepped out, shutting the door softly behind you before making your way downstairs.

The backyard was illuminated by the glow of the pool lights, casting an ethereal blue across the patio. Rafe stood at the edge, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, watching the water ripple lazily. When he heard you approaching, he turned. His eyes raked over you, darkening as they settled on the bikini.

“Damn,” he muttered, a slow smirk creeping onto his lips. “Knew it’d look good on you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “Shut up.”

Rafe stepped forward, hands sliding around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His touch was warm against your cool skin. “What?” he murmured, voice teasing as he ducked his head to brush his lips against your ear. “You embarrassed? ‘Cause you shouldn’t be.”

Your breath hitched, hands gripping his hoodie and despite your words, you unzip and pull it off his shoulders. “We’re gonna get caught.”

He chuckled, the sound low and knowing. “Not if you keep quiet.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, he was lifting you effortlessly, making you squeal as he carried you to the edge of the pool.

“Rafe—no, don’t you dare—”

Too late. He stepped off the ledge, taking you down with him. The water was a shock against your skin, cool but refreshing. You surfaced with a gasp, pushing your soaked hair from your face, only to be met with Rafe’s smug grin.

“You’re the worst,” you huffed, splashing water at him.

He laughed, moving closer, caging you in against the pool wall. “And yet, here you are.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. He leaned in slowly, testing, waiting. And when you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance, lips meeting yours in a slow, heated kiss.

Rafe deepened the kiss, running his tongue across your lip as you allow him access to your mouth. His hands rub up and down your body, feeling every inch of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in even closer.

Without missing a beat, Rafe grips your waist and lifting you into the edge of the pool. He stands in between your legs, eyes locked onto yours as he caresses your thighs. Slowly, he moves closer to your core. His thumb massages your clit through the bottoms of your bikini. You throw your head back and bite your lip, trying to stifle your moan.

Rafe moves them to the side, his thumb is now flush on your bare clip and his other hand motions you to move closer to the edge. Once you do, he has perfect access and replaces his thumb with his tongue. This makes you unintentionally let out a loud moan.

“Gotta be quiet baby,” Rafe says as he smirks up at you.

He dives back in, switching between sucking and using his tongue. You grip his hair to stable yourself. He moves his tongue with perfected precision. He knows exactly what you like and where to touch. Your breathing begins to get heavy and you feel yourself getting close. Rafe noticed too by the way you try to clamps your thighs around his head. He uses his hands to forcefully hold them open.

With a few more flicks of his tongue, you come all over it. He laps up every little bit of your orgasm. You both catch your breath and you slip back into the water in the same position you were before by wrapping your legs around his waist.

Once you do, you notice how hare he got just from eating you out.

“Want some help with that?” Your voice drips with sultry desire.

Your hands move beneath the water. Once they’re back up, Rafe’s eyes widen as he realized you untied your bottoms. You drop them onto the waters surface and they float away from the both of you. Rafe pulls down his swim shorts and you waste no time slowly sinking onto him.

Rafe pushes you back up against the side of the pool and you lean in it with your elbows for support as he grabs your thighs pulling you towards him as he pushes into you.

Using both of your bodies he tucks into you at a rapid pace you didn’t think was possible under water. All the air has left your lungs from the feeling. The only sounds are the sloshing water, your light moans and Rafe’s deep pants.

You’re such a good girl for me,” he murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction.

You swallowed hard, your mind hazy, completely lost in the way he was fucking you. Your lips parted, but no words came out—just a shaky breath, your body betraying you.

Rafe smirked. “What’s the matter, huh?” His fingers traced slow, teasing circles along your thighs he was holding. “Can’t talk?”

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, frustration bubbling up at how easily he unraveled you. You forced yourself to say something, but your voice came out soft, barely above a whisper.

“Rafe…”

His grip tightened just slightly, like he loved hearing you struggle. “C’mon, baby, you can do better than that.”

You exhaled shakily, tilting your head back against the tile, trying to steady yourself. “I—I’m your good girl.”

His eyes darkened, a slow grin spreading across his face. “That’s right,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours but not quite kissing you. “And don’t forget it.”

It only took a few more strokes for you to reach another high. Rafe continued to fuck you through it as he finally reached his own, spilling deep into you. He pulled out and brought you into his chest. Holding you tightly. You looked up at him and he leaned forward kissing you.

You were disrupted when a noise came from behind you. You spun around in the water and Rafe backed away slightly. It was Sarah.

“What the fuck is going on?” Sarah slurred

“Sar… I can explain,” you spoke to her, worry flooding your tone.

“I don’t know if I’m dreaming or I’m just still too drunk, but it’s about fucking time… g-goodnight.”

Sarah stumbled back inside, leaving you shocked but relieved, but confused because of how drunk she still was. Rafe started laughing moving back to you. His amusement, made you laugh a little too.

“Guess the secrets out.”

tags + some moots 💗

@rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @maybankslover @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @percysley @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @snowtargaryen @kieeslove @leather-n-velvet @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @diasnohibng @slut-4-gojo @akobx @jjmaybankmylovee @slurpdew @rafesheaven @cameronsprincess @littlelamy @inthelibrarybtw @frankoceanluvr11 @writingroom21 @v3n1ce-bxtch

[goldenroutledge]

kiss you soon

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

prompt: ❛ if you’re tired of kissing me, i’d better go. ❜

summary: three times where lando can’t get enough of you.

masterlist || be my valentine blurb event 💌

the first time.

“Just one more, darling.” Lando bats his eyelashes from where he sits in his makeup chair, with you lounging on a plush couch nearby. He’s filming an interview with Hilton today, so he got some touch ups from a makeup artist. His eyes glance at the door every so often to make sure she won’t be here to scold him for messing anything up. “Come on, please?”

You stand up, granting his wishes by kissing him gently. His fingertips brush your cheek as he deepens the kiss, clearly craving more than just a peck.

He smirks when he pulls away to look in the mirror, checking out the gloss on your lips that has transferred onto his. The crew on set will surely put two and two together. “Look at that baby, you made me pretty for TV.”

You giggle, pinching his cheek. “You need no help with that.”

Lando shrugs. “Maybe not. At least it will send a message, though.”

“You want all of your fans to know that you were making out with someone before the shoot?”

“Yes, it will put those nasty Norizz rumors to rest, and maybe the camera guy who’s been eyeing you since we got here will take a fucking hint.” Lando gives you his signature cheeky grin as his eyes roam your features lovingly. “Not that I can blame him.”

Heat creeps up your cheeks, and for that, you peck his lips one last time. “No more flattery, you’re on the job. That sweet talk won’t get you very far right now.”

“It’s gotten me far enough.” He muses cockily, laughing as you take a throw pillow from the couch and aim it for his head.

A few knocks sound on the door and the production assistant tells him that Max and the crew are waiting for him in the next room. Lando gets up, but not without blowing you a kiss through the air first.

You pretend to catch it, blowing one back to him. “Go get ‘em.”

“I’ll try!” Lando shouts, making his way to the nearby room where the interview is being filmed with his best friend.

Upon finally seeing Lando arrive on set, Max stands up from his own chair that reads ‘TALENT’ on the back of it. “It took you long enough! What was the hold up?”

Lando doesn’t respond verbally; the grin that spreads across his face is better at revealing what exactly he’s been up to this time. “Oh, right.” Max acknowledges, remembering that you’ve been with Lando in his dressing room all morning. “Does that explain why your lips are so shiny then? They didn’t do that to my lips.”

Lando laughs when he notices the candid moment between them is being captured by a camera, coincidentally being filmed by the same guy that he knows has the hots for you. “Apparently there’s a kissing scene in this. Y/n and I were just practicing.”

Max pretends to gag, shaking his head in faux disgust. “Alright then, I’m leaving.”

Lando turns to the camera man who looks almost stunned at the confession. So much for his PR training, it’s gone out the window by now. Months have gone by since he was last inside a Formula 1 paddock and it didn’t take long to wear off at all. “Make sure to keep that in the final cut, okay?”

–

the second time.

“You’re tense, honey.” Lando murmurs while his hands massage your shoulders as gently as they can.

“Tell me about it. I think I slept wrong.” You wince but lean into his touch, telling him to massage harder because it hurts so good.

“Or you’ve just been stressed out lately? Trying to be everything to everyone without taking care of yourself.” Lando suggests as if it’s obvious. There’s nothing he’s more attuned to than your well being, he’s always quick to notice anything that might be going on with you. It’s truly a blessing and a curse.

“Thank you, Dr. Norris, but I just have a lot on my plate right now. It’ll pass.”

“But I can’t just sit back and let you forget about yourself in the process.” Lando adds, planting a kiss to your exposed neck. “You deserve to relax, it just so happens that I can help with that.”

Your fingers run through his curls, letting your eyes flutter shut as he focuses more on leaving trails of kisses on your skin and less on massaging the tension from your muscles. “I think I need one of your yoga classes. Remember when we did yoga on the beach in Miami?”

“How could I forget? Stretching you out happens to be my favorite pastime.”

You gasp, smacking at his hand lightly. “Lando!”

“What? I meant stretching you out for yoga. Don’t tell me your mind went other places...”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“-ly funny. I know I am, baby. And I got your mind off things already, didn’t I?”

“That you did. Maybe you’re not such a bad doctor after all.” You sigh contentedly, turning around to pepper his lips with kisses. “And it pains me to say this, but I still have so much more work to do that I should be getting back to.”

“When was the last time you took a break?”

You smile against his lips, breaking away for a moment. “Doesn’t this count as a break?”

“No, it does not. I’m talking something that lasts longer than a few kisses before you go back to spending hours staring a hole through your laptop.” Lando trails his hands across your shoulders and down your back, never pulling away too far from you. “These knots won’t work themselves out. Just let me take care of you. Please?”

“Well since you asked so nicely…” Your hands travel from tangling in his hair to resting on his chest. “How about in 30 minutes from now?”

Lando groans, you can feel the vibrations against your lips. He finally pulls away, putting some distance between you two. “Fine. If you’re tired of kissing me, I’d better go.”

“No! I’m never tired.” You whine more urgently than you mean to, surely boosting his ego more than it needs to be boosted. To prove it, you kiss him once more.

It’s short-lived as he pulls back with a smug grin. “I can tell, darling.”

“You’re a tease. I won’t even be able to focus now, thanks to you.”

Lando makes his way towards the door, deciding to leave you to your work. The sooner you finish, the sooner you’ll kiss him again. “Good. When you’re done trying to focus, you know where to find me.”

–

the third time.

It’s a McLaren 1-2 for Lando and Oscar to kick off the season.

Everyone in papaya rushes to parc ferme, ready to greet the drivers in an aggressively eager embrace, you included. From the moment Lando stood on top of his car, waving a fist in the air, you were cheering at the top of your lungs.

Lando hops down from his car and rushes to where you’re standing behind the barriers, passing by his team before he gets to you. He engulfs you into his arms, and neither of you care about the sweat that he’s accumulated during the race.

“You did it!” You shriek, and the sound is surely picked up by the nearby camera capturing your interaction. “I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“What did I tell you?” Lando muses, reminding you of the confidence he’s had all weekend about winning today. The quiet promise your boyfriend made that he’d win this race for you, and he did. But the people didn’t need to know that. It was just fine being a kept secret between the two of you.

Neither of you had made it a point to confirm your relationship publicly, wanting to keep your romance under wraps for as long as you could. You can’t risk anyone trying to pop your love bubble. It was only because of Lando’s insistence that you were in parc ferme with everyone to begin with.

Lando proudly embraces his team and Oscar follows suit. The two drivers congratulate each other and the crowd roars once again. Lando hears you better than anyone else, though maybe he’s just acutely aware of the sound of your voice. He smiles at you, helmet off this time, and stops in his tracks.

“You coming? What are you waiting for?” Oscar questions, realizing that Lando isn’t keeping up alongside him on their way to the cooldown room.

“Give me one second!”

Before his teammate can ask why he’s rushing back to you, Lando’s lips are on yours and he’s kissing you for the world to see, surprising you both. You always knew Lando could be impulsive, but this was different. It doesn’t take long for you to melt into his hold, smiling against his lips with pride and it sends the crowd into a frenzy.

The look you give him is one of astonishment, as if to say, ‘I can’t believe you just did that!’. If nothing else, it’ll give you something to talk about later. Lando walks away cooly, receiving a nudge in the ribs from Oscar as they walk away.

“Looks like you have more than just the win to celebrate, eh?”

Lando smirks, shrugging to play off his public display, or declaration, of love for you as if it was meant to happen. And in many ways, it was. “Something like that.”

There’s nothing quite like standing on the top step of the podium, it’s a feeling that Lando could get used to. As long as you’re here cheering him, he plans on it. The Australian sun shines onto the podium and the trophies sparkle from its golden rays. ‘God Save the King’ plays throughout the paddock, and Lando spots you front and center in the crowd.

He winks, blowing a kiss in your direction as you beam with joy. The questions will be endless as to who Lando was kissing below the podium, but he doesn’t care. When this is over, he’ll be able to kiss you with the world watching, like nobody’s watching at all. Lando can say confidently that is by far his biggest win of the day.

💌: comments & reblogs are always appreciated! feel free to request more from the be my valentine blurb event!

taglist: @marjorieswrld @n3versatisfied @freyathehuntress

(add yourself here!)

[scorpieuns]

BED CHEM | SIM JAEYUN

anon request: “a jake drabble inspired by sabrina's bed chem... i cant stop thinking of jake whenever that song plays!!! like imagine meeting a shy and polite jake at a party but a few shots in he becomes a completely different person. getting so flirty, and sexy, and just oozing with confidence around you... and soon leading you up the stairs of his apartment, stumbling along the way bc he couldn't wait to get a taste of you.”

word count: 2.9k

warnings (18+): smut. swearing. alcohol. kissing. nipple play. protected sex. switch!jake. pussydrunk!jake. switch!reader. a bit of fluff.

MINORS DNI!!!

A/N: I canNOT write a “short” drabble to save my life, I’m just a serial yapper atp. Anyways, anon I hope it’s to your liking!

The air was thick with the scent of salt, spilled liquor, and cheap vanilla perfume, blending into the heady haze of a spring break party in full swing.

Music throbbed through Jay’s beach house, shaking the floor beneath your feet as bodies swayed in time with the bass.

Out on the patio, half-drunk couples tangled under string lights, while inside, groups gathered around beer pong tables, their laughter bubbling over the music. It was the kind of party where inhibitions dissolved like sand under high tide, where the night stretched endlessly, ripe with possibilities.

You were invited by Jay, much to your chagrin. But he had insisted, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he pleaded with you a few days ago, promising just a few drinks and a little fun.

So here you were, smiling involuntarily as you chewed on your bottom lip, laughing every now and then—mid conversation with Jake, one of Jay's (devastatingly attractive) friends from astrophysics class.

Your breath caught slightly each time those honey-brown eyes met yours, framed by impossibly long lashes that cast subtle shadows on his cheekbones.

You had caught him watching you earlier, his dark gaze lingering with something that made your skin tingle before flickering away, as if he wasn't supposed to be looking. His plump lips would part slightly whenever your eyes met, as if there were words caught in his throat.

It was endearing, really—the way he would rub the back of his neck when you laughed, or how he stammered through your introduction, his cheeks tinged with something close to nervousness. That beautiful smile of his would flash briefly, making your heart skip.

"I'm, uh, Jake," he had said, his voice a low, velvet rumble that seemed to resonate in your chest, his gaze dancing between you and the floor as if he couldn't quite decide which was safer.

But there was something about him that pulled you in like gravity itself. Maybe it was the way he listened—really listened—his focus entirely on you, as if the rest of the party had dissolved into static.

Or maybe it was how, under the soft-spoken words and shy smiles, there was something else that made your pulse quicken whenever he leaned in closer to hear you better, his cologne a subtle, intoxicating presence that made it hard to focus on your words.

And then, somewhere through the night between failed beer pong attempts and a few too many shots, something shifted in the air between you—undeniable, inevitable.

Maybe it was when his hands found your waist, gentle but sure, as he pulled you onto the dance floor. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you now—different, darker, like a switch had flipped and all his earlier hesitation had burned away into something more.

“You’re really something else, you know that?” Jake’s voice had changed—deeper, silkier, his lips brushing against your ear in a way that made your heart stutter.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He leaned in, and your breath hitched as his lips grazed your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “You. You’ve been driving me crazy all night.”

Something warm curled low in your stomach. This wasn’t the sweet awkward Jake from the living room. This Jake was bold, unwavering, and so sure of himself that it made your heart race.

His scent—clean, sharp, with the faintest notes of cedar—wrapped around you, drowning out everything else.

“I can’t believe Jay would hide such a pretty girl from me.” His fingers traced absent patterns along your waist, his touch deliberately featherlight but addicting all the same.

You laughed softly, threading your fingers through the soft hair at his nape. "Maybe he was trying to protect you from trouble."

Jake's answering laugh sent vibrations against your skin as his hands skimmed up your sides.

"Trouble looks good on you.” His gaze traveled down, appreciating how your dress hugged your body, before meeting your eyes again with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as gorgeous as you,” he murmured, lips curving into something dangerously close to a smirk. “It’s almost unfair, really.”

You laughed as your pulse stuttered. “Jake, are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” He replied, tilting his head—then, with deliberate slowness, his fingers traced up your arm. “But,” he spoke up, finding the fallen strap of your dress and sliding it back into place with a softness that beautifully contrasted with the look in his eyes.

“That doesn’t make it any less true.”

The touch was nothing. A simple gesture. And yet it sent a thrill coursing through you.

So this is what they mean by liquid courage, huh?

“Who are you,” you teased, running your fingers through his hair, just firmly enough to earn a low groan that made your stomach flip, “and what have you done with the shy guy from earlier?”

Jake’s hand found your waist again, drawing you against him until there was barely any space left. The air between you was thick, his lips hovering teasingly close to yours.

Close enough to taste the promise in his smile, close enough to make you ache.

“He’s in there somewhere,” Jake murmured, his grin slow and devastating enough to make your knees weak.

And then, just as you leaned in to close that maddening distance, he pulled back slightly, leaving you chasing the phantom warmth of his almost-kiss.

But you could grumble in disappointment, he lifted his gaze to yours, eyes dark with unmistakable desire and something deeper, more tender.

“Wanna get out of here?”

The answer tumbled from your lips without hesitation, “Yeah.”

—

There was something both thrilling and torturous about being so utterly, maddeningly consumed with sexual frustration.

From the heated, borderline shameless makeout session in the back of the Uber (which, judging by the driver’s stiff posture, was definitely unwelcome) to the way Jake stumbled his way up the stairs, his grip on your hand tight and desperate—it was a slow, agonizing burn.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could take it.

Jake groaned as he struggled with his keys, his breath uneven, his hands not nearly as steady as they should have been. “You know,” he murmured, voice thick with frustration, “what you’re doing is really distracting.”

A slow, teasing smile spread across your lips as you pressed another soft kiss along his jaw, feeling the way he tensed beneath your touch.

“(Y/N)” He warned and you sighed dramatically, letting your head rest against the door as you murmured, “Then what am I supposed to do when I can’t kiss you right now?”

As if the universe itself had taken pity on you, the lock finally gave way with a soft click.

And then you were stumbling inside, barely making it through the doorway before Jake spun you around, his lips crashing into yours with a need that sent a shiver down your spine.

The door slammed shut behind you, but you barely heard it over the pounding of your heart.

Jake pulled you close, his touch sending a buzz through your veins as he gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin.

You moaned softly against his lips, and his response was almost instant, his kiss growing more fervent, mouth moving against yours with a need that had you panting.

He was so good.

Jake tugged you closer, pulling you down the hall, trying to make it to his bedroom without tripping or running into anything. Not that it was an easy task when he was kissing you like this.

But finally, after what felt like an eternity, you were falling back onto the bed, the soft mattress catching you as Jake climbed on top of you.

There was something almost intoxicating about having him above you, his broad body looming over yours, his dark brown, heavy-lidded eyes raking over you as if he wanted to devour you whole.

Your lips parted, and Jake leaned down to kiss you, his tongue pushing past your lips to brush against yours. He pulled away without a second breath, grazing kisses along your neck, recklessly marking you from your neck to your collarbone as your head fell back.

The feathery feeling of his lips seemed to cloud your mind, soft moans emitting from your lips as he nipped at your skin.

You squirmed beneath him, and you could feel his growing arousal pressing against your thigh, making your breath hitch.

He continued his trail of kisses down your body, only breaking away as you pulled your dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

Jake’s lips immediately met yours again in feverish measure as his hands trailed down your neck, curving over your sternum and landing on your tits.

You moaned into the kiss when his hands began to cup the soft flesh—pressing your thighs together, scouring for some sort of friction that would dull your painful desire.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Jake panted as his hand grazed over your tit, nipple pebbling against the cold sensation of his rings making you whimper.

He squeezed the soft flesh with a lewd groan, arching into him with an involuntary moan as his tongue flicked over your nipples. You were so sensitive, the feeling sending a jolt through you, gasping as Jake grinned against your skin.

Your fingers meet his dark locks at its own accord, gripping the messy strands as you arched your back with a cry, the feeling of his teeth scraping against your nipple causing a spark of pain mixed with pleasure.

His other hand snaked down between your legs, brushing the damp spot that had formed on your underwear as you bucked into his hand with a whimper.

“Fuck, you're soaking wet for me, baby.” He groaned at the feeling of your arousal coating his fingers, lips meeting yours once more in a hungry, feverish kiss.

Jake broke away from your lips, swiftly lifting his shirt off his body as he discarded it somewhere in the room, the sound of his belt unbuckling shooting right to your core.

“Wan’ you so bad.” You whined.

Jake smirked as he hovered over you again, hands meeting your jaw as his other hand travelled to your inner thigh—hooking his finger under the hem of your panties, stroking your clit and eliciting a gasp from you.

His voice was deep and raspy as he murmured, "Tell me, baby."

You could feel the flush creeping up your neck as his touch sent a shiver through you, your thighs trembling with desire.

"Please..."

"Please, what?"

His thumb swiped across your clit, the sudden friction causing you to moan, the sound muffled by his lips.

Jake pulled away slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he murmured, "Be good, (Y/N), and tell me."

The way his voice seemed to drop an octave had your heart hammering against your chest, the heat pooling in your stomach.

"Fuck me, please."

Jake wasted no time pulling your panties away from your body, discarding them somewhere off the side of the bed. He pulled his pants and boxers off with a few swift motions, his cock springing free from its confines.

“Fuck.” you whispered, marvelling at just how pretty his dick looked, clenching around nothing.

Jake grabbed a condom and slipped it on, his gaze never leaving you. "God, you look so fucking good."

Jake moved over to your lips, brushing against them as his tongue tentatively darted out, tracing the swell of your lips. You let him in, tangling your tongue with his and sucking hard.

You both simultaneously moan at the feeling of his cock grazing your clit. He moved again, lining himself up with your entrance.

"Ready?" He asked, his voice raspy and thick.

You nodded, biting your lip.

"Use your words, princess." he tapped his tip along your glistening folds warningly, whimpering at the contact.

"Yes! Yes– please. Fuck me."

He pushed the tip of his cock into your heat, teasingly rubbing it against your folds. He kissed your jaw, his tongue brushing against yours.

Jake groaned as he pushed his length inside you, your body tensing up at the feeling. Your head tipped back at the sensation of him entirely inside you, moaning when he took the liberty of moving.

"Fuck, princess."

You bit your lips as you moaned with every thrust if his hips–nails digging into his back, the slight pain driving him wild.

"God, (Y/N), you feel so fucking good."

You were a moaning mess, his cock filling you, stretching you, as his thrusts sped up—the sound of skin slapping filling the room.

"Fuck, Jake. Don’t—don’t stop." you cried out.

Jake kissed your neck, his breath warm on your skin. He was whispering sweet nothings to you, but you couldn't cohere any of it, only his groans and moans.

You whimpered, his thrusts hitting all the right places, your hips rocking against him.

You whimpered, his cock hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside you, over and over again as your moans grew louder, your cries filling the room—digging your nails into the skin of his arm as the pleasure overwhelms you.

"You’re so hot-so good for me." Jake moaned, eyebrows knit in pleasure as whimpers slipped past his pretty lips.

You were getting close, his beautiful moans and the pornographic sounds of skin slapping together sending you off the edge—the pleasure threatening to make you fall apart.

"M’ so close, please, don't stop." You beg.

Jake thrusts into you faster and harder, and you cry, feeling yourself teeter over the edge. Your hands reach out to grip his arms, his muscles flexing beneath your fingertips as you arch your back with a loud moan.

You squirm under him, screaming his name as your orgasm crashes into you, almost seeing stars as he continues to thrust into you.

He presses sloppy kisses against the blooming marks on your neck, hands squeezing your tits—as though he can’t get enough of you.

The way his cock disappears inside your pussy makes him groan, the sight alone egging him on as he snaps his hips into you making your breath hitch as you involuntarily clench around him.

His mind was mushy, thoughts jumbled, too consumed with pleasure to form any coherent idea besides you.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He slurred, sliding your thigh under his arm as he lifted your thigh over his shoulder, high on the feeling of your cunt hugging him with each hard thrust.

“Jake shit-“ you let out a choked moan, the new position sending your sensitive walls into overdrive, equally impressed and shocked that he was still going.

Jake leaned in to kiss you, his desperate moans muffled by your lips until he couldn’t kiss you back anymore, mouth falling agape.

The feeling of you around him was so intoxicating, so mind blowing, so good. You were so sweet, so beautiful—so so fucking pretty.

You brushed back his damp strands, hand traveling to his pink cheeks as your thumb toyed with his bottom lip.

A smirk found itself on your lips as you gazed at him, lust blown eyes looking at you with adoration as he continuously whimpered your name.

Pride couldn’t help but swell in your chest as Jake’s newfound boldness seemed to wilt away…all to being pussydrunk.

“You are such a pretty mess for me aren’t you, baby?”

Jake nods without hesitation or second thought.

"Fuck, princess. I'm so close." He drops his head into the crook of neck with whiny moans.

His voice was strained, his breath coming in shallow gasps, his body trembling.

“I'm gonna cum. Fuck, I'm gonna cum.”

“Then come for me, baby”

Jake's eyebrows knit together as bites his lip, his cock twitching in you as his orgasm washed over him.

You watched as his head fall back, his eyes rolling back into his head, a long, drawn out moan escaping his lips.

"F-fuck." Jake groaned, his eyes squeezing shut, his body shaking.

"That's it." You cooed as his hips jerked erratically, thrusting into you a few more times before you felt his warmth fill you.

"Fuck, (Y/N)." Jake breathed, his voice still ragged.

You giggled, the sound causing Jake's heart to skip a beat.

Jake took a moment to catch his breath before he rolled off of you, removing the condom and tossing it into the trash bin next to his bed.

“That was…” he collapses back into the bed, raking his fingers into his hair.

“…Amazing?” You tease, leaning over to rest your chin on his chest.

“Yeah.” But after a moment, the dazed look in eyes finally disappears as he sits up in a panic, “but was that okay—are you fine?”

You press a kiss to his lips, “Jake, I’m fine, relax.” You laugh, “I liked it, I mean…clearly”

He cracks a smile of his own, leaning in to kiss you this time, hand caressing the side of your neck as he deepens the kiss, much sweeter than the ones before.

You softly bite his bottom lip as you briefly pull away, smirking at the groan that leaves his throat.

“Are you free next week?”

[withlovemark]

“how to make a girl cum?”

synopsis -> mark lee. 25 years old. too busy with his career. has only ever touched a girl once in his life and he’s not even sure it counts considering she didn’t cum and he lasted 7 seconds. all he knows is his hand and what he watches from porn. you’re absolutely tired of seeing your loser of a best friend, who’s supposed to be this hot sexy idol, fumble every girl he comes in contact with because of his fear of sexual acts…so you decide to help him out.

warnings: fingering, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), praising kink if you squint

—

“how are things with belle?,” you ask mark! who is seated right next to you on the black couch in the middle of the practice room. the two of you alone in this room full of mirrors.

“oh dude, i ended things with her,” he says nonchalantly.

“what!? why? weren’t you just telling me last week how she was perfect?,”

“exactly! it was getting too serious, she touched my thigh and i was like okay, yeah, we’re done,”

“are you fucking kidding me? this again,” you sigh in disappointment. he practically begged you to introduce her to him and he just pulls away like he always does.

“uhhh yes this again,” he replies blatantly, rolling his eyes, “remember what happened last time with that other girl, she laughed at my face and told me it was disappointing that i didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations yet alone even make her cum,” he cringed at the words, that day vividly replaying in his mind like a reoccurring nightmare.

“it was your first time mark, cut yourself some slack, it happens!,” you reassure him for the millionth time.

“yeah, no, i’d rather die a virgin than go through that embarrassment ever again,” he scoffs and you almost can’t believe what you’re about to say but your best friend needed serious help.

“how about you do some practice?,”

he looks at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing ever, “and who exactly am i gonna practice on?”

“me,”

“what?!”

“me,” you repeat even louder.

“i-what?”

“me! mark,” he freezes on the spot, registering your words and for a second you’re afraid you broke him until he breaks the silence, “no.”

“and why the fuck not? do you think i’m ugly?,”

“what?! no dude, you’re fucking hot,” the comment going straight to your head, giving you a boost of confidence.

“so what’s stopping you?,”

“dude, c'mon, you’re literally my best friend!”

“so?,”

“best friends don’t touch each other,”

“sure but as your best friend i can’t keep seeing you sabotage potential relationships because of something as silly as this!,” you argue while he still looks at you like you were crazy.

“i promise i won't laugh at you and i promise you will at least know how to make a girl cum after this,” you continue, becoming more compelling with every second that passes.

mark sits there in silence, weighing out the pros and cons of this agreement…and well, he couldn’t think of any cons. plus, you’re the only person he trusts enough to do this with.

he sighs deeply, finally making up his mind, “when do we start?”

you smirk at his response, happy to hear him agree, “right now.”

“what!? no!,”

“but you just agreed!,”

“yeah but i gotta do research first,”

“you mean watch more porn??,” you roll your eyes, scoffing, “THIS is your research, it’s not gonna get better than actually experiencing it firsthand,” you make your point and mark can’t argue with that.

he does learn faster when he’s doing it himself.

“okay,” he nods slowly, trying to come to terms that this is happening now.

“okay,” you agreed, slowly inching the space in between you, “we’re in a practice room after all,” you smirk, whispering against his ear, sending goosebumps throughout mark’s body as he waits for you to take the lead, not quite sure if this is real or just a figment of his imagination.

you notice the way he froze, only indication that he was still in the room was the anxious bouncing of his leg, eyes staring straight at the floor, “relax, mark,” you say, placing your hand gently on his thigh. mark gulps, staring at your hand, still refusing to look at you.

“well, this just won't do,” you break the silence, grabbing his hand and pulling him across the room, making him sit on the floor – right in front of the mirror.

“wh-what?,” he sputters, looking up at your figure, still standing in front of him.

“now you have no choice but to look at me,” you tease, slowly removing your pants, leaving you in your panties before quickly taking your seat right in between mark’s legs, back rested against his body, facing the mirror ahead of you. this was as vulnerable for you as it was for him.

mark watches it all unfold in a blink of an eye, seeing you in your pink lacy underwear has got him salivating, the gravity of the situation settling in him…he was about to touch his very hot best friend.

“mark,” you call out to him, snapping him out of his daydream, his eyes following your voice, “yeah?,” he responds quietly, finding it hard to breathe. you give him a gentle smile, “is this okay?,” you ask, making yourself comfortable in the space between him. he responds in slow nods, the warmth from your body making it hard for him to think about anything else but you.

“good,” you part your legs for him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your clothed core, “touch me,” a light shocked expression appeared on his face due to your boldness before he obeyed, lightly rubbing his fingers against your panties.

“more pressure, mark,” he immediately follows your command, adding more pressure to his fingers as he slid them up and down the cotton barrier. you release a sigh of pleasure, feeling your arousal start to build up, watching mark through the mirror as he focuses on his fingers, eyebrow’s furrowing, making sure he’s rubbing you with the just the right amount of pressure.

it’s cute how determined he looks.

“don’t think too hard about it, you’re doing so well, can’t you feel how wet my panties are now?,” his cock twitching at your praise as your stained panties were starting to feel sticky against your cunt.

“take them off,” you demand. mark follows straight away, gently removing your panties off of you, leaving you completely bare, all for him.

“look in the mirror, mark,” you order and for the first time he finally makes eye contact with you through the glass, “look how wet i am for you,” you pout, your juices glistening under the lights.

mark can’t help but stare in awe, “dude, i-i did this?,” he says unsure, cheeks pink.

the nickname makes you frown, “do not call me dude when you’re about to have your fingers inside me,” you reprimand and he lets out a tiny apology before you grab his hand, placing it back on your cunt.

“now, show me what you know,”

marks fingers are back on you, rubbing you the way he did before, his fingers easily sliding up and down your slick folds, the friction making you whine under his touch. he takes that as a sign and without any warning, jams a finger in, immediately thrusting them in and out of you at an already brutal speed, making you hiss in pain.

“stop!,” you say, legs instinctively closing as he quickly pulls his fingers out, eyes wide, afraid.

“that did not feel good,” you give your feedback and he almost crashes out, the reminder of him being bad at this catching up to him, “b-but that's what they do in all the videos!” he sputters out, slightly panicking.

oh, how badly he needed your help.

“just take it slow mark, there’s no rush,” you smile softly, trying to comfort him, “here,” you grab his finger, controlling his speed as he slides down your core again, finger slowly disappearing inside you, following the curve of your pussy.

you let out a shaky breath at the slow intrusion, feeling your walls tighten around his digit. like this, you can feel how much longer his finger is compared to your own, reaching that spot so easily, “now curl it,” you instruct and he curls it perfectly on the first try, eliciting a moan from you, making his cock twitch.

“good boy,” you praise, boosting mark’s confidence as he curls his finger in the same spot again and again. you let go of his hand, letting him take over as he took note of every moan that spilled from your lips.

“i-is this good?,” he asks, adding another finger in and curling it just the way you like it.

“s-so good mark,” you whine under his touch, approving his action, “go faster now,” you say, hips arching up, needing more from him.

mark loves watching the way your body reacts to his hand and almost like his free hand had a mind of it’s own, it finds its way around your sensitive bud, rubbing slow but harsh circles, “ohhh fuuck,” you moan, head falling back to his shoulder as your hand gripped his thigh trying to ground yourself, the tension in your stomach tightening.

“yeah?, you like that baby?,” he whispers against your ear, the nickname sending tingles down your core, pussy clenching tightly around his fingers. mark doesn’t need to hear your answer with the way your body speaks to him, he takes note of all of it.

“s-say that again,” you gasp, fingers continuing to move inside you while the tingle in your stomach keeps growing and growing, mark’s newfound confidence becoming stronger and stronger with every moan you give him.

“gonna make my baby cum,” he grunts in your ear, more determined than ever to get a job done. you watch it all play out on the mirror in front of you — body trapped in his, mark’s fingers curling in and out of you, juices leaking onto his fingers, eyebrows slightly furrowed, light sweat dripping down his forehead, muscles clenching.

he’s so focused on you, and he looks fucking hot doing so.

you can’t help yourself, turning your head towards him and catching his lips in yours. mark halts his movement for a quick second before regaining his composure, kissing you back ferociously, tongue meeting yours, quickly taking the lead. he did not need any tips for this – mark was a good fucking kisser, great even.

his lips moving with yours heightens the rest of your senses, drowning out all the other noises and only focusing on the boy next to you. you feel everything — the circles around your clit, the curls of his finger, his rock hard cock against your back; making you feel lightheaded, heat traveling throughout your body as mark swallowed your moans with his kisses.

you only pull away when your release took over, “—gonna cum,” you barely warn him, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes rolling back, toes curling as you let out a strangled gasp, the mind bending orgasm making your body shake, mark coaxing you through it.

“made my baby cum on the first try,” he softly teases, leaving soft kisses on your temple as he watches you unravel through the mirror. your hips arched up as you leaned on him for support, eyes closed, lips flushed, looking absolutely fucked out and his own body can’t help but react to the scene, staining his sweats.

you try to calm your erratic breathing, eyes fluttering open to the scene of mark licking his fingers clean off your arousal, “how does it taste?,” you tease. his eyes darken at your question, looking right at you through the mirror, “so good baby…you taste so good,” he says before diving his fingers back to your cunt, making you jump, as he collected the remaining juices, bringing it back to his lips, humming in satisfaction, eye contact never breaking – the action turning you on more than ever.

“congrats, you just made a girl cum,” you smirk, turning around on your knees to face him.

he lets out a nervous chuckle, glancing at you with uncertainty. "be honest, how was it, really?" he asks, his voice tinged with anxiety and you can tell the burst of confidence he had earlier was gone.

“honestly,” you start, gaining his full attention, “soo good mark, you learn so quickly…you think you can make me do it again?,” you ask, doe eyes innocently looking up at his brown ones.

he nods furiously at your request, hands immediately going to your hips, getting ready to turn you around and have you back in the same position before you stop him.

“hmm, i was thinking, maybe you can make me cum on your cock?,” you ask and mark chokes on his own breath, glancing around the room, getting shy under your gaze.

“i-uhm, i already came in my pants,” he whispers, afraid to confess it out loud.

“that’s. so. hot.” you comment, hands finding its way to his thighs, as you observe the wet stain on his grey sweats, capturing mark’s attention.

“wait? really?”

“mhm, i think it’s really hot how much effect i have on you, cumming in your pants and i didn’t even have to touch you,” you tease, his pants feeling tighter and tighter, “what do you say, mark?, you want to cum again?,” you whisper, pouting your lips.

“fuck y/n,” he whines breathily, you had him wrapped around your fingers now, how could he ever say no?

he pulled you towards him, taking the lead and smashing his lips against yours, gently sucking, tongues battling for dominance. your hand wraps around his neck, fingers finding its way to his hair, gripping it gently. the action enough to harden his cock.

quickly you pull away, taking off your shirt, pink lacy bra coming into view matching your panties. mark takes a second to admire your body, warm hands squeezing your waist, before following suit, discarding his own clothes to the side, leaving him in his stained boxers, lips back on yours as you continue to explore each other’s mouths.

your hand travelled down his chest to his torso, lower and lower, slipping inside his boxers and wrapping around his cock, earning a moan from him. you take note of how long he is, the anticipation of him inside you making your pussy twitch, insides bubbling once again.

you pump him once, twice…his whines against your lips, making you clench around nothing but air.

“stop it baby, i'm not gonna last if you do that,” he pleads and you want so badly to just have your way with him, pumping him to finish as he withers in his moans but before you could do so, he pushes your hand away, creating space between you.

“stop, please…want to be inside you,” he cries, shutting his eyes, trying to calm himself down as he slows his breathing, holding you an arm length away. he feels like he’s gonna burst any minute now and he really doesn’t want to do that without making you cum a second time.

“okay, mark,” you follow his order, “you’re in charge, baby,” you give up control, waiting for mark to take the lead, as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying his best push away his orgasm. he slowly opens his eyes, all his breathing work practically useless at the sight of you.

“you’re so pretty,” he says before his hands wrapped around your hips, easily picking you up. you let out a quiet yelp at his sudden action. your best friend was a lot stronger than he looks.

he makes his way over to the couch, gently placing you down, body hovering over you as you push his boxers down, pink cock springing up, hitting his belly.

there was absolutely no going back from this.

“mark, do you have a condom?,”

“fuck,” he says looking at you wide eyed, “i-i dont have one,” he stutters, frustrated, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes at the thought of not being able to satisfy you.

“you don’t carry one around?,”

“dude, we’re literally in this situation because i don’t get any action,” he reminds you, earning a laugh from you – you almost forgot…especially with how good his touches felt against your skin.

“you’re laughing, i don’t have a condom and you’re laughing,” he says in disbelief, annoyed at himself, his frustration increasing every second your laugh reaches his ears, “hey, you promised you wouldn’t laugh,” he pouts, gently poking your sides, a small smile displayed on his lips.

“sorry, sorry, i-just, you should’ve seen your face, you look like you’re about to cry,” you point out, calming down, “i’m on the pill mark, its okay,” you soothe him, and mark’s jaw almost drops to the floor.

the last and first time he had “sex” with a girl, he came in the condom as soon as he bottomed in and now he expects himself to last more than 7 seconds with you? raw? he freezes once again and you notice the change in his demeanor.

“don’t be scared mark, we’ll take it at your pace,” you comfort him, turning his head towards you for a soft, gentle kiss – so much different from the rushed kisses you previously shared.

“hey, i'm your best friend, okay, you can trust me,” you remind him, giving him a small smile “it’s okay if you cum faster than me, you’ll know what to do if that happens,” you assure him, completely trusting him with your body and all his worries fade away.

mark finally snaps out of his overthinking mind, taking the lead once again, soft lips on yours as he gently pushes you down, back against the couch, body completely hovering over you.

he swipes his cock against your folds, collecting your juices, making you shiver in anticipation, before lining against your core, slowly pushing the tip in your hole, he breathes in — you feel so fucking warm. you moan at the invasion, walls expanding, adjusting to the size of his cock as he slowly pushed inside. synchronized moans filling up the air as he bottomed in, walls tightly clenching around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper you swear you can feel him in your cervix — feel every vein on his cock twitching.

“fuuck mark, you fit perfectly,” you whine, never have you had anything feel this good inside you and he hasn’t even moved. the comment makes him blush. he was gonna have to bring that up later…right now, he’s committed to redeeming himself and pleasing you.

he starts thrusting slowly, focused on your reaction, “hmmm, feels soo good mark,” you whine. he recalls the curl of his fingers inside you, making sure he angles his cock the same way, hitting you exactly where you need it. he finds it almost instantly, faster than any other guy has ever found it, “oh god, mark-fuck,” you jumble your words, too caught up with how he’s making you feel. the slowness of it all making it more intimate, each thrust properly hitting you deep inside, back arching at the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, deep grunts right by your ear, hips meeting his.

“y-you’re so fucking tight baby mhm, making it so hard f-for me,” he whimpers, quickening his pace, the sound of clapping starting to echo throughout the walls, moans mixing in the air, the growing tension in your belly making you feel hot as you gripped his toned arm muscles.

“f-fuck mark, i-im close,” you gasped. your sensitivity from your previous orgasm quickly catching up to you, as he continued his thrusts, “m-me too baby,” he stutters, cock twitching inside you.

his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing quick circles. “oh fuck! mark, mark, mark-,” you moan over and over again, forgetting every other word but his name.

he feels like he's going to explode. the amount of restraint he was holding on to to make sure you came before him is making him feel lightheaded — desperate.

“c’mon baby, c-come with me please,” he pleadingly whines, thrusts gaining more speed, your juices making it easier for him to slide in and out, toes curling at the sensation as you feel the heat rise, the coil in your stomach making you gasp for air.

you didn't have time to warn him before your walls immediately closed in on his cock, second orgasm completely taking over, body going slack, breathy moans slipping past your lips, eyes shut, the tension in your stomach coming undone.

mark’s movements falter on top of you, your release triggering his as he paint your walls white, “fuuuck baby,” he groans, head burrowed into your neck, breathing heavily, body shaking on top of yours.

mark slowly pulls out, making you hiss at the loss of contact. you watch, in amazement, as your mixed juices spill out of your throbbing cunt, pussy still pulsating.

“how was that?,” he asks earnestly awaiting your response and all you could do is shoot him a smile, “are you sure you’ve never done this before?,” you ask, making him chuckle in satisfaction.

“good?,” he wanted to hear it from you.

“very good, mark,” you nod in approval earning a smile from him as he got up to get his shirt, using the fabric to clean you up.

“you’re a really quick learner,” you praise him.

“or i just have a really good teacher,” he shrugs, refusing to take credit for the mess the two of you made.

“well, i barely had to tell you anything for that one, you really took notes earlier huh?” you point out, as he sat down next to you, “i guess so,” he says, a small smile on display.

“think you got it, now? won’t be sabotaging any potential relationships anymore?,” you tease, disheveling his hair, a playful smile on your lips.

“hmm,” he hums, pondering.

truthfully, he was proud of himself, he really was scared over nothing, or maybe…maybe it was because you were his partner? and that made everything different. he trusts you which made it easier for him to not get caught up in his own fears, the sound of your moans and praises pushing away all his anxieties, leading him to success.

he wants to hear it again.

mark smiles mischievously, bright eyes shining, before turning to you, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, “i don’t know baby, i think i might need more practice,” he says cheekily, lips on yours once again as he unhooks your bra.

—

au: whew! well that’s that >.< genuinely….what do i need to do in life to make sure this happens to me and mark ?????????

[jungwnies]

the dad who stepped up | carlos sainz (cs55)

୨ৎ : featuring : carlos sainz x fem!reader/singlemom!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : not the biological father, but rather the father who stepped up!

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff ୨ৎ : word count : 947

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this was such a cute little story, i can only imagine the spanglish going crazy in this household <3 psa... intentionally all lowercase

carlos never thought about being a dad so soon. sure, he wanted kids someday, but he always figured it would come later, after racing, after settling down. what he didn’t expect was for you to walk into his life, a single mom with a baby boy who barely knew how to say papa yet.

he met you when your son, nico, was only eight months old. you had been hesitant at first, not wanting to bring someone into your child’s life unless you were sure. but carlos? carlos was patient. he never rushed you, never forced his way in. he just showed up.

at first, it was small things; holding nico when your arms were full, rocking him to sleep when he got fussy, making faces at him across the dinner table just to see him giggle. then, before either of you knew it, nico wasn’t just some baby carlos happened to know. he was his boy.

now, four years later, carlos can’t imagine life any other way.

—

"okay, buddy, one more time, but this time big swings," carlos calls from the backyard, watching as nico grips his tiny golf club, determination all over his little face.

you stand nearby, sipping on a lemonade, watching your two favorite people as the warm breeze rustles through the trees.

nico, tongue sticking out in concentration, takes a swing, too hard, and the plastic ball rolls about a foot away.

"that was amazing!" carlos exclaims, throwing his hands up as if nico just hit a hole-in-one at augusta.

"it barely moved!" nico whines, stomping his foot.

carlos kneels beside him, adjusting his grip. "the trick isn’t power, campeón (champion), it’s control. even papá sainz had to learn that."

you smile, shaking your head as you watch them. “carlos, if you turn him into a golf snob before he even learns how to ride a bike, we’re gonna have a problem.”

carlos grins over his shoulder at you. “you say that now, but when he’s winning the masters, you’ll be thanking me.”

nico nods along, even though he has absolutely no idea what the masters is. “sí, mami! (yes, mommy!)”

your heart melts every time nico switches between english and spanish so naturally, something carlos had made sure to teach him from the moment he could talk.

—

later that evening, after dinner, you’re curled up on the couch together, nico snuggled in between you and carlos with his favorite book in hand.

“papá, can you read the book en español? (papa, can you read the book in spanish?)” nico asks, eyes wide with excitement.

carlos raises an eyebrow, clearly pleased. “sí, pero solo un poquito, eh? (yes, but just a little, okay?) i don’t want you getting confused.”

you smile, resting your head against carlos’s shoulder as he begins reading, seamlessly switching between english and spanish.

"the little dog ran through the…el bosque (the forest)…looking for his friend… pero no lo encontró (but he didn’t find him). so he kept running and running…hasta que… (until…)"

nico listens intently, repeating some of the words in his tiny voice.

“bosque!” he says proudly.

carlos grins, tapping his nose gently. “eso! muy bien, campeón. (that’s it! very good, champion.)”

you watch as carlos pauses and turns to nico. “and what’s a bosque?”

nico scrunches his little face, thinking hard before answering, “umm… a forest?”

carlos nods approvingly. “exacto! (exactly!)”

you laugh, shaking your head. “i swear, this kid is gonna be fluent before i am.”

carlos smirks, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “well, mamá, looks like you need some spanish lessons too.”

you playfully elbow him, making him chuckle.

just as you think nico is starting to doze off, his tiny voice pipes up.

“papá, i’m sleepy… pero i want uno más cuento. (papa, i’m sleepy… but i want one more story.)”

carlos lets out an exaggerated sigh, feigning exhaustion. “one more? vale, uno más. (okay, one more.)”

he flips the page, his voice soft as he continues reading. you feel nico’s breathing slow, his tiny body relaxing between the two of you.

you glance up at carlos, who is watching nico with that same gentle, loving look he always has. he catches you staring and gives you a small smile, his fingers reaching out to brush over your hand.

“you know,” you whisper, “you never had to do any of this.”

carlos furrows his brows. “what do you mean?”

you swallow the lump in your throat. “i mean… you didn’t have to be his dad. you could’ve just dated me and kept your distance. but instead, you’re his person. and i just… i don’t know. i hope you know how much i love you for that.”

carlos studies you for a moment before shaking his head, as if the thought of not stepping up for nico is ridiculous. he lifts your intertwined fingers, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

“i didn’t have to, amor,” he murmurs. “i wanted to. i chose this. i chose you. i chose him. and i’d do it again a thousand times over.”

tears prick your eyes, but before you can say anything, carlos leans down and places a gentle kiss on nico’s forehead.

“buenas noches, mi pequeño campeón. (good night, my little champion.)”

nico barely stirs, already deep in sleep.

carlos turns back to you, smiling softly. “now come on, mamá, let’s go watch bad reality tv and pretend we don’t have to wake up early tomorrow.”

you laugh, shaking your head as you follow him to the couch, where his arm instinctively wraps around you.

carlos sainz wasn’t the father by blood.

but he was the father who stepped up.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[ennabear]

was trying to take a nap but i can’t stop thinking about this so have a horny half asleep blurb about loser!sevika <3333 18+

“oh, shit.” she groans on top of you, holding the dildo in her hands as she angles it into you, the tip already wet as it pushes into your hole. you look up at her as she trembles in excitement, horniness, and most of all, anxiety. her eyes are fixed on her strap-on and your cunt, big, beautiful eyes already glossy from pleasure. she could cum just from this.

“you’ll tell me if it hurts, right?” she asks timidly, holding your hips as tightly as possible in her hands. you nod at this, and her human palm sweats and shakes until you grab it tightly in yours, offering a reassuring squeeze.

“you got it, sev. keep going.”

she glances down at you, deep brown lips sagging from the weight of her signature pout. you smile at her, big and goofy, and take her face in your unoccupied hand. an annoyed wince follows your pinches to her cheek, but she sighs and laughs it off, focusing on the task at hand.

“okay…” she whispers. “okay, ready?”

you giggle. “sev, i’ve been ready. you’re not gonna hurt me.”

at this, she pushes into you more. slowly but surely. and soon enough, she’s bottomed out, eyes big and jaw hanging open at the sight beneath her. not a single centimeter of the dildo is visible, just your thighs squishing against hers. a sight she could never get sick of. she sucks in a gasp when you lightly smack her ass, but chuckles awkwardly when she realizes that you aren’t in any pain.

experimentally, she slides out of you, then snaps her hips back in. you shiver, legs opening impossibly wider, back melting into the bed.

“like that?” she asks.

“yeah, sevi. just like that.” you reassure her. god, if only she wasn’t so damn nervous. and oh, so adorable.

so she does it again, pulling out, pushing in, pulling out, pushing in. her rhythm isn’t quite there, but the pleasure is. she hits your sweet spots so deeply, and your heart is so full, you don’t care that she’s not exactly… good at this.

not yet, at least, but neither of you mind the practice.

she moans every time every time she thrusts into you. it starts out breathy and light, but the more she does it, the louder she gets. you doubt that she’s even aware of the sounds she’s making, but you hope she doesn’t realize— she’ll get embarrassed and stop.

her hand releases itself from your grip, drenched in sweat although you wouldn’t have it any other way. her hard grip on your hip returns, and she leans over you to get a better angle. your tits are practically touching, and her hair tickles your face and neck. you plant a few firm kisses on her cheeks, then her nose, then a sweet, long one on her lips, muffling the sounds of her moans and whimpers.

“fuck, i’m so in love with you.” she groans. “can’t believe i didn’t do this sooner.”

you laugh at her, wrapping your arms around her. “it’s okay, we have all the time in the world. no rush.” she chuckles at herself, then her breathy chuckles turn into light moans, and then she’s full on moaning right into your ear.

“am i doing good?” she asks. pace quickening as she rocks her hips into yours.

“yeah, babe. i’m so close.” you whine, gulping loudly.

“really?” she asks, almost like she doesn’t believe you.

“yeah, really.” you laugh, butterflies tickling your gut. “keep going like that.”

“fuck, fuck. okay, oh, janna.” she moans, burying her face in your neck. you think for a moment that she might be in pain, maybe tired, out of breath, or her phantom pains biting at her nonexistent arm. but these moans are different. deeper, heavier, like she’s enjoying it.

her breath tickles your neck as you tip over the edge, holding her as tight as possible as your eyes roll back into your head and you bite your lip a little too harshly. when you come down from your high, gasping for air and giggling at your girlfriend, you almost think you’re imagining the tears rolling down her cheeks. you coo at her and kiss them away, until all that’s left is a giggly, sweaty pile of limbs tangled together.

“do you want me to pull out?” she asks.

“whenever you’re ready.” you answer. “as long as i get to make you cum after this.”

“uhh…” she starts, then loses her words. “you already… did.”

“what do you mean, baby? i haven’t had my mouth or hands on you all night.”

“no, no, not like that.” she says, rushing the words out. “i mean… i did. while i was fucking you… maybe more than once.”

although you feel a bit evil for this, you cackle loudly at her. she rolls her eyes and sinks into you even more, hiding her face in your neck shyly. “don’t laugh at me.” she grumbles. “you’re the worst.”

“no, it’s not bad, sev. it’s cute. and i think we should do this more often.”

she sighs into your shoulder, raising her hand up and pointing her middle finger straight to the sky. you gasp and giggle harder, then swat it away as she tries to wrestle against you.

“okay, enough.” you call, before she can start the wrestling match. “let’s go pee and then i’ll make us a snack.”

she kisses your forehead and huffs a breath, trying not to think about the fact that she’s still inside of you, and that she may or may not be able to feel you clenching around her. “okay, i love you.”

“love you too, sevibaby.”

[ctrlsht]

Beneath His Love | Jungkook Two-Shot AU (Part 1)

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: dark romance, psychological thriller, soft yandere

summary: Jeon Jungkook was once just a foreign high school friend until he disappeared without a word after graduation. Years later, he came back, not just to reconnect, but to claim a place in your life as your lover. To everyone else, your relationship is something out of a fairytale, the kind others envy. And for a while, you believed it too until the mask he wore began to slip, revealing a side of him you never saw coming.

warnings: emotional and psychological manipulation, control and possessiveness, obsession, anxiety and mild distress, isolation and coercion, themes of entrapment wc: 14k

Your high school years hold some of your best memories. You were young, maybe a little naïve, but you enjoyed every moment. You met friends who stuck with you through the ups and downs, creating memories that stayed with you.

Some friendships lasted, while others naturally faded over time. But out of all the people from your past, the last person you expected to return was Jeon Jungkook.

“I really want to drive you home, but I thought you might have your car with you.” He glances at you, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he bites his bottom one.

You catch the gesture, a smile of your own creeping up before you glance back at the office building.

He’s a new investor in the company you’re working for, and the funny thing is, you met him in the meeting, with no heads-up that he was the person you’d be negotiating with.

Back in high school, you would’ve called him a lost puppy; out of place, unsure. He had just moved from South Korea with his family, thrown into a world of unfamiliar faces and an unfamiliar language. He tried, really tried, but somehow, nothing ever quite fit.

He wasn’t a natural at blending in, and the harder he pushed, the more obvious it became that he just didn’t belong.

But you did. You were the one who made him feel like he could stay like he was already part of something. You made sure he never had to face the feeling of being lost alone.

“I might get embarrassed for saying this, but... I don’t have a car.” You say it so casually, you can’t help but bite the inside of your cheek to stifle a laugh. His face lights up almost instantly.

“Well, that’s good news for me, because I can drive you home.” He grins, and you can’t help but to chuckle.

Comparing him now to his high school self? It’s almost unrecognizable. From his new confidence to the way he holds himself, he’s changed. Completely. It’s hard to believe this is the same guy. But then again, you were there at the meeting. 

The one thing that hasn’t changed? The way he feels familiar. Comfortable. Even after all these years apart, that sense of ease with him hasn’t gone anywhere. 

It’s almost laughable to think back on Jungkook who once barely spoke in class, who could barely look anyone in the eye. The same Jungkook who now talks business with the Chief Finance Officer of the country’s biggest infrastructure company; and he’s an investor. An investor. You read the reports. From the looks of it, he’s about to become one of the company’s largest backers. You’re still wrapping your mind around it. What exactly does he do now?

Jungkook left after high school. No warning. No goodbye. Just... gone. You tried searching for him, trying to catch some trace of him online, but even his barely-used social media vanished. After a year of wondering what happened, you eventually gave up. Maybe that was his choice all along.

But you can’t shake the thought: Did you ever really become his friend? Did you make him feel like he belonged, like he had a place? You thought you had, but it’s hard to tell. Maybe it never felt the same to him.

And now, as he stands before you, all those unanswered questions bubble up. So many things you want to ask, but you don’t even know where to begin.

You admit that part of you feels a little hurt, like maybe your friendship meant nothing to him. But that feeling? It’s faded. You were young and confused back then. It doesn’t matter now. You know, deep down, he had his reasons for disappearing. And that’s enough for you.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N.” He says it casually, but there’s warmth behind the words. You glance at him as he drives, a small smile on his face, his attention fully on the road. You can’t help but notice how much he’s changed. It’s not just his look; it’s everything about him now. The confidence he exudes to the ease in his posture. This isn’t the same Jungkook from high school. He used to shy away from meeting your gaze for more than a few seconds, and now, you can hardly believe he’s the one offering you a ride home. Back in high school, it was you who’d offer to walk him home whenever your other friends couldn’t.

“You too,” you reply, smiling back, still watching him.

He doesn’t speak after that, and you both settle in silence as the car hums along the road. There’s something comforting about the silence. No awkwardness, no tension, just his presence beside you. It feels easy.

After a while, you break the silence. “How have you been?” The words come out before you can second-guess yourself. You didn’t want the quiet to stretch on, and this might be your only chance to check up on him.

“I’m good,” he replies, his tone flat but steady. You expected that. It’s the default answer people give when asked how they’re doing. But you were hoping for something more. Something real.

You don’t push for more. Maybe this is all he’s willing to share. But just as you're about to settle back into your thoughts, his voice breaks through.

“I missed you.”

The words hang in the air. His eyes seem far away, like he’s seeing something just beyond reach. The warmth around him has shifted, and for a moment, the easy atmosphere between you both feels heavier.

“Yeah, me too, Kook,” you say softly, offering a small smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I just wish you’d tell me more about how you’ve been.”

The car rolls up to your apartment building, the conversation trailing off as you prepare to get out. You almost feel like you should’ve said more, but before you can even voice your thoughts, he speaks again.

“Do you have anything to do tomorrow evening?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden question. He smirks, amused by your surprise, but before he can say anything else, you cut him off.

“None. Why?” you ask, trying to play it cool, as if you don’t know the answer.

“I was hoping to take you out for dinner, Y/N. It’s been years, and I know I owe you an apology and an explanation.”

You purse your lips, but you fight the smile, pretending to be annoyed. “Good that you know.”

He chuckles, and without another word, he steps out to open the door for you.

The dinner went exactly as planned. It’s Saturday night, and you’re still in disbelief that you’re sitting across from Jungkook after a decade, the same familiar ease between you both. The bond hasn’t shifted; it feels just like it did back then. Can that really be possible?

You never expected that, in a series of random days, you'd reconnect with your long-lost friend and pick up right where you left off, surprisingly comfortable, like no time had passed at all.

To sum up his story, Jungkook left the country a week after graduation due to family matters. He didn’t get into the details, just mentioned family and wealth, and honestly, you didn’t push for more. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here, now.

“Investing? That’s it?” you asked casually, curious about his line of work as you took a sip of your wine.

“Yeah. Why? You sound like you’re doubting me,” he said, narrowing his eyes playfully as he cut into his steak. You quickly shook your head, laughing.

“No, no— I’m not doubting you. It’s just... how do you just invest in a company? What else do you do?”

His lips twitched as if holding back a laugh before he took a bite of his steak.

“With me, it’s possible.”

It’s amazing how much had changed for him. From his fluent English to how smoothly he communicated, he had a way of speaking now; confident and clear. He knew what to talk about and when to hold back. He even went into detail about his business, explaining how he went from nothing to having it all. Apparently, he’s rich rich.

It still blows your mind. He doesn’t just invest locally, but globally, with major stakes in several countries. One of his biggest investments? A multinational tech company in the USA. You googled his name later, and the results were overwhelming; articles, interviews, and profiles. It hit you then: you had no idea.

“I saw Jungkook recently. He’s freaking rich!” you said during a video call with your high school friends on a random Friday evening.

“Oh my god, you did? I thought you knew, Y/N. He’s always in the business news!” Mina, your entrepreneur friend, exclaimed.

“Yeah, I thought you knew too, since you were close to him,” Chloe added as she applied her makeup.

“I would’ve known if you told me,” you said, sarcastically. They all laughed, including Henry, the only guy in your friend group.

They all knew Jungkook, but they were never really close to him. But you try to get them to hang out with him. It was hard, though. He never seemed to fit in with anyone else. He wasn’t exactly open to making friends outside of you.

You didn’t mind being his only friend, but there were times you wished you could hang out with your whole circle without worrying about leaving him alone. You can’t stomach seeing him being alone.

Your first dinner with him turned into another, and then another, until it reached a point where you were seeing him almost every day. Well, it makes sense. He has back-to-back meetings with the CEO and CFO, all to discuss investment deals and company performance. You were shocked when you found out he’d become one of the company’s major shareholders. But, honestly, you shouldn’t have been surprised. With his global investments, your company was just one of many he had stakes in.

You’ve sat through countless meetings with him, being the Investor Relations Analyst, but what truly catches you off guard is how he shifts between playful and serious. Outside the boardroom, he’s relaxed and fun, but the moment he steps into the business world, he’s a different beast; focused, no-nonsense, and damn good at what he does.

“I still can’t believe how different you are in the boardroom. Your 17-year-old self must be so proud,” you joked one time when he invited you over for dinner at his place. You had to add, his “place” wasn’t just any apartment. It was a goddamn penthouse, bigger than your office floor.

His penthouse is airy, with massive windows letting in all the natural light and giving a breathtaking view of the city below. The furniture is minimal; soft neutrals, a simple sofa, a coffee table, and a few essentials. But none of that matters because you can’t wrap your head around how massive his place is.

It’s your third time visiting, and you still haven’t gotten used to how much wealth he’s surrounded by. Back in high school, you knew he had a solid life, but this, this level of luxury? You never imagined it. Sure, his family’s wealth played a part, but it was his own hustle that built the wealth he’s sitting on now. He mentioned once that part of the reason he went back to Korea was for his family’s business, but he didn’t go into detail.

“You really can’t stop talking about how different I am now, can you?” he teased as he smiled, removing his coat and loosening his tie. Both of you came straight from the meeting, and here you were again, in his penthouse. You shook your head, unable to stop smiling. 

“You’ve definitely changed,” you shrugged playfully as he walked to the kitchen island to prep dinner. 

“I plan to cook kimchi stew. You mentioned that you want me to cook it again.” he said, pulling out the ingredients one by one.

“Ah, you remembered,” you smiled, feeling a bit giddy. “Do you need help?”

He flashed that smile of his, shaking his head. “Nah. You relax. Dinner’s on me.”

“I really do want to help, though,” you said, walking over to him. “You always cook for us.”

He stared at you for a moment, a soft smile tugging at his lips, before nodding and grabbing the tofu and green onions.

“Alright, fine,” he chuckled. “You can slice these.” He placed them on the counter, then grabbed an apron and slowly slipped it over your head.

Your heart started to race, feeling the warmth of his hands as they adjusted the straps around your back. You barely breathed as he tied the apron, feeling like an electric current shot through you when his hand grazed your skin.

“While you do that, I’ll prepare the kimchi,” he said, turning around with a grin before walking to the fridge.

With his back to you, as he chopped the kimchi, you were frozen. You could feel your heart hammering, and your stomach doing flips, but you couldn’t move an inch. What the hell was happening to you?

There’s this strange flutter in your stomach, something you can’t quite put into words. You don’t move, not until he finally glances back at you. You flash a quick, awkward smile, trying to shake off the odd tension before turning your focus to the tofu, hoping it’ll distract you from the feeling you can't shake.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Henry’s birthday party was in full swing at one of the biggest clubs in the city. Nothing new there. Clubbing was pretty much a tradition whenever you and your friends had extra cash to burn. The last time you went was a work event, which sucked because most of your coworkers were too old to actually enjoy the club. Tonight, though? Different story. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and you were exactly where you wanted to be; wrapped around Chloe’s shoulder, screaming lyrics at the top of your lungs.

Feeling a bit worn out, you drop into a seat, chugging your drink while mindlessly scrolling through your phone. Three messages from Jungkook. One missed call.

Jungkook: Wanna have dinner tonight? We can do it at your place since you’re fussing about me not visiting your place hahaha

Jungkook: Heyyy?

Jungkook: Oh, I didn’t know you were with your friends. Sorry to bother you.

Shit. You checked the timestamps, first message at 7 PM, second at 9 PM, and the last one just fifteen minutes ago. The missed call? Right after the second text.

How did he even know you were out? You clicked on your Instagram story. Viewed. Of course.

You quickly typed out a response, apologizing for not replying sooner.

Jungkook: No worries, Y/N 🙂

That’s when it hit you, almost everyone from high school was here, even the ones who barely talked to Henry. But Jungkook wasn’t. You scanned the crowd before glancing back at your phone, staring at his last message.

Should you feel bad? Maybe. He used to hang out with your group sometimes, but Henry was the one throwing the party. You couldn’t exactly tell him who to invite. Still, a small part of you felt guilty. Jungkook had been a part of your high school life, and it felt weird that he wasn’t here too.

“Y/N, what’s up with you? You’re spacing out,” Mina suddenly appeared beside you.

“Nothing,” you said, forcing a smile.

She peeked at your phone. “Who are you texting?”

“No one, just reading a message from Jungkook,” you answered, locking your screen. “By the way, did Henry invite everyone from high school?”

Mina shrugged. “I guess?” 

“Did he invite Jungkook?”

“I doubt it.”

“Why?”

Mina chimed in, laughing. “Girl, he’s a fucking millionaire. You really think he has time for this?”

Your jaw tightened. “You guys used to hang out with him at least once.”

She raised a brow. “Then ask Henry, not me.” She patted your back before disappearing into the crowd.

You sighed, staring at Jungkook’s last message. Maybe Mina was right. He probably didn’t care about not being invited. He had more important things to do than go clubbing with his former high school classmates. But another part of you wasn’t so sure.

Your phone buzzed again.

Jungkook: You must be having fun, leaving me on read hahaha

Oh, fuck.

You: Hahaha I’m sorry. I’m trying to sober up. What are you doing

Jungkook: You’re drunk already? Who are you going home with?

You: I’m good haha I’m going home with my friends. Let’s have dinner tomorrow.

Jungkook: How are you going home with them if they’re also drunk?

You weren’t drunk, just tipsy. But if Jungkook thought you were drunk, then maybe you’d actually get drunk trying to prove otherwise.

Jungkook: Do you want me to fetch you?

You: It’s okay, Kook. I can manage. My friends aren’t drunk. We’re fine.

No reply. You reread your messages, sipping your whiskey, assuming he’d drop it. But then—

Jungkook: I’ll go there and wait until you’re done so I can drive you home.

Your stomach did a weird flip. You don’t know what or how to feel. There are a lot of thoughts that are running in your head and you don’t know what to entertain first.

It had been almost a year since you started hanging out again, and you weren’t going to lie, you liked the way he looked after you. How he always checked in, insisted on driving you so you wouldn’t have to take the bus, how he cooked for you without you even asking. Hell, you’d eat anything he made, even dishes you normally hated. There was something about his effort, his presence, that made your heart race just a little.

And now, he was coming to pick you up.

But then there was the other part, the part where he’d be stepping into a club full of his old high school classmates who didn’t even think to invite him. It didn’t sit right with you. If he came here, would it remind him of how things used to be? Would it make him feel out of place?

There was no way in hell you were going to make him wait around for you to finish partying in a place he should’ve been invited to in the first place.

You took a deep breath and texted back:

You: Okay.

Then you locked your phone, downed the rest of your drink, and got up to rejoin your friends. Might as well enjoy the last few moments before Jungkook arrived.

“I have to go soon, Henry,” you lied. “Charlie’s home. He might wake up looking for me.” You added, using your nephew as an excuse. 

Henry frowned. “You never said you were babysitting tonight. That sucks. I’ll grab my keys and—”

You cut him off. “No need. Jungkook’s driving me home.”

Henry stopped, then smirked. “Wow. Are you dating him already? You should’ve invited him.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the birthday boy. That was your job, not mine.”

The moment your friends heard you were leaving, they wasted no time plotting your downfall. Before you could even argue, Henry was in front of you, bottle in hand, while Chloe grabbed your head like a coach hyping up their star player, and Mina? She was already recording.

"One last shot! Well, bottle, for the road!" Henry announced, grinning like a devil.

You groaned, but resistance was pointless. The moment the bottle tilted, the cheers erupted around you. The burn hit instantly, but damn, it felt good. Who knew last-minute drinking could be this satisfying?

It only took Jungkook 15 minutes to get there. As soon as he texted that he’d arrived, you wasted no time saying your goodbyes. You didn’t really want to leave yet, but making him wait for the party to end at 6 a.m. wasn’t an option. It was barely 1 a.m., and the night was just getting started, but you weren’t about to let him stand around outside just for your sake.

Stepping out of the club, the pounding bass faded behind you, but the street was still alive with music, neon lights, and crowds spilling out of bars. It was a Saturday night, prime time for people to party, and leaving early kind of sucked.

You hadn’t even replied to Jungkook’s last message, but it wasn’t hard to spot him. He was leaning against his car, parked right in front of the club, eyes glued to his phone. Just as you were about to call out to him, your phone buzzed. His name lit up the screen.

The moment he heard the ringtone, he looked up, and when his eyes landed on you, his whole face lit up, his smile stretching wide. You laughed, shaking your head. This man.

“Did you miss me that much?” you teased, walking over.

“You weren’t answering my texts,” he shot back, grinning as he slipped his phone into his back pocket.

“I figured I’d just answer you in person,” you said with a chuckle, opening the passenger door. “Let’s go?”

“Wait, you’re actually done for the night?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah. I sobered up, and I’m not really in the mood to drink anymore, so I might as well head home,” you shrugged before sliding into the car.

“You sure? Henry might be pissed you’re leaving early,” he said, settling into the driver’s seat.

“Nah, trust me, he won’t,” you laughed, clicking your seatbelt.

Jungkook reached behind his seat and pulled out a bottle of water, twisting off the cap before handing it to you.

“Here. Drink some water. Stay hydrated.” He gave you a small smile, and for some reason, it completely threw you off. You should take the water, but your body wouldn’t budge. Your fingers twitched, and your mind screamed at you to move, but all you could do was stare, caught in the moment, caught in him.

And before you could think twice, you leaned in.

His lips met yours, warm and soft, and everything else faded. A little water spilled from the bottle onto your thigh, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the way he felt against you, the way your heart pounded like a drum in your chest.

Your head swayed slightly, the tequila still messing with your balance, but you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or just the way his lips tasted.

Then it hit you.

Your eyes snapped open, and you jerked back, hand flying to your mouth.

“Shit—sorry—”

Before you even finished your sentence, he pulled you towards him, pressing his lips on yours. He pulled you so close, his hand wrapped around your nape, gently holding you in place, and you melted into the kiss, closing your eyes.

His lips moved against yours hungrily, and the realization sent a shiver down your spine. Your fingers found their way to his hair, gripping it lightly. 

Jungkook broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he leaned his forehead against yours. His fingers found the back of your head, his touch so gentle that it sent shivers down your spine.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he murmured, as you shook your head. 

“I should be the one saying sorry.” You chuckled a little. He smiled, rubbing your cheek gently with his thumb. 

He leaned in, his lips grazing yours before he claimed your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. It was different from the previous ones, more controlled yet passionate. His free hand moved to cup your face, his fingers tracing small circles on your cheek, and you felt your body melt into his touch.

Everything blurred together in a rush, you were in the car, and the next, the city lights flickered past as Jungkook drove in silence. It wasn’t until he pulled into a familiar parking garage that reality sank in.

You were supposed to be heading home, but instead, you found yourself in front of his apartment building. 

Maybe his place was closer to the club. It made sense.

Jungkook parked the car in the underground parking lot of his apartment building, the engine purring to a stop. You were both panting heavily, the atmosphere inside the car was filled with tension. He turned to look at you, his gaze intense and darkened with desire.

"We should go upstairs." He said softly.

As soon as the door slams shut behind them, Jungkook pulls you close, his hands gripping your hips tightly. Your bodies are pressed up against each other, and the heat between you is intense.

He kisses you hungrily, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he backs you up against the wall. Your fingers clutch at his shirt, removing the fabric in your grip as you try to bring him even closer.

Then he breaks the kiss, his breathing heavy as he leans his forehead against yours.

He took a deep breath, his fingers still gripping your hips tightly. His eyes roamed your face, taking in every detail, and his gaze fixed on your eyes.

“I like you, Y/N. Even before.” He said, almost sounding like a whisper, but it sounded so clear. 

With a swift motion, he lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. You were surprised at the sudden movement, but he held you tightly. He carried you towards the living room, his lips finding your neck as he continued to press hot kisses on your skin.

His apartment windows stretched across the room, but the city lights outside barely reached in, leaving most of the space cloaked in shadow.

He gently placed you on the couch, his body lingers above yours, arms locking you in.

His lips found yours again, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he couldn't get enough of you. His body pressed against yours, leaving no space between you, and you could feel the heat radiating from him.

Your fingers gripped his biceps, your nails biting into his flesh as you tried to hold back the sounds threatening to escape your lips. His mouth continued to explore your neck, his kisses and gentle bites sending waves of pleasure through you.

Jungkook quickly removed your dress before pushing you back onto the couch and capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Your hands roamed freely along each other's bodies, as he trailed kisses down your neck.

You couldn’t quite piece together the exact steps you took to end up here, but damn, you weren’t complaining. Everything felt perfect, from the way he touched you to the way he spoke to you. And even as your mind wandered, wondering if you'd regret any of it later, you shoved that thought aside. For now, you were savoring every single moment.

You woke up to sunlight streaming through the window, too bright, almost blinding. You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the haze of sleep, only to realize that this wasn’t your room. You didn’t need to check to know exactly where you were. The familiar warmth beside you told you everything you needed to know.

Your gaze lingered on him. Jungkook, still asleep, lying on his stomach. Both of you were tangled under a duvet, skin against skin, the night’s events replaying in your mind. It had been unexpected, but you weren’t regretting it. Not one bit. Out of all the men in your life, he was the one who’d made you feel truly at ease during the most intimate moment.

You couldn’t stop thinking about what he said last night. His words still echoed in your ears.

“I like you, Y/N.”

You reached out, gently brushing his hair, feeling the smooth strands between your fingers. You couldn’t help but feel a little foolish for not noticing how he’d felt before, but now, it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to waste time overanalyzing his feelings.

But damn, if you had known sooner...

You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. Would you have really done things differently? Probably not. Maybe back in high school, there was nothing there. But now? With how ridiculously handsome and damn near perfect he looked? Hell, you couldn’t deny it.

Life is simple, and so is your relationship with Jungkook.

After that night, there was no overthinking, no awkward tension. You both just went with it. Dating him felt natural, almost effortless. And let’s be real, you weren’t about to let him fuck you if it wasn’t going to lead somewhere.

It still blows your mind how much things have changed in just a year. You reconnected with an old high school friend, found out he’s stupidly rich, and now? You’re dating him. 

You thought dating Jungkook wouldn’t feel much different from being his friend, but damn, you were wrong. In the best way possible.

Every morning, without fail, he texts you a sweet “good morning,” even when he’s miles away on a business trip. He brings you little gifts just because, takes you out on weekly dates, and surprises you with flowers for no reason at all. Even when he’s drowning in work, he always makes time for you, whether it’s at his place or yours. And most especially, he really knows how to make you feel good. He already knows what you love to do and what’s not. He knows when to stop and when to go on. Sometimes, he feels so perfect that you catch yourself wondering if he’s even real.

One morning, after spending the night at his place (which, at this point, is almost every night), you wake up to the soft press of his lips against your skin.

“Morning, love,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing your cheek.

You mumble a sleepy, “Morning.”

“I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He peppers kisses along your face, neck, and arms.

You groan a little, still half-asleep, but you knew this was coming. He’s heading to a business conference out of town, just for the day, but it still sucks that he’s leaving on your day off. You had already planned to head back to your own place anyway, clean up, and maybe just exist in your own space for a while.

“Mm-kay,” you mumble, trying to bury yourself back into the sheets. But Jungkook, being Jungkook, doesn’t stop kissing you, making it impossible to stay asleep. You finally cracked an eye open, shooting him an annoyed look, and making him laugh.

“You should wake up now. I made you breakfast. Eat before it gets cold,” he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead before heading toward the door. “Bye, love. I love you.”

Still groggy, you nod. “I love you too. Take care.”

Once he’s gone, you follow through with your plan, breakfast, then heading home.

The second you step inside your apartment, it’s painfully obvious you haven’t been around much. It smells like it’s been abandoned, and the state of it isn’t much better—clothes piled on your bed, untouched documents scattered across the dining table. A mess, but a familiar one.

As much as you love staying with Jungkook, there’s something comforting about being in your own space. No one to answer to, no one to accommodate, just you, doing whatever the hell you want. Jungkook has asked you to move in with him more times than you can count, but you always say no. Not because you don’t love being with him, but because you love having a place that’s yours. A space to retreat to when you just need to be alone.

The only thing you hadn’t planned for today was your friends ambushing you with an invite to go out tonight.

Your friend group never really schedules hangouts; it just sort of happens. You could go weeks, even a month, without a single message, and then, out of nowhere, someone’s in the mood for a drink or dinner, and suddenly, it’s a plan. Not everyone always makes it, of course. Life gets in the way. But when the stars align and most of you are free, you all try your best to show up.

"Come on, Y/N," Mina whined through the phone. "The last time we saw you was four months ago. And don’t even try to make excuses, you literally just said you’re at home."

You groaned, throwing yourself onto the couch. "Mina, I just spent all day cleaning. I’m exhausted."

"Then we’ll just invite ourselves over!" She laughed, knowing exactly how to push your buttons.

"What the hell, no! I’m not letting you guys trash my place after I spent the whole day making it spotless!"

"Then get dressed and come out with us!" she shot back. "Dinner and drinks. We miss you."

She wasn’t wrong. You missed them too. You’d skipped out on a lot of meet-ups lately—not intentionally, but between work and, well, spending nearly all your free time with Jungkook, your social life had definitely taken a hit. The only time you weren’t with him was when you were at the office.

So, after some back and forth, you gave in. You sent Jungkook a quick text letting him know you were heading out with your friends, though he hadn’t responded yet. He was probably still busy with his conference.

Now, almost 9 p.m., you were sitting in a pub downtown, catching up with your friends over drinks. The place was buzzing with weekend energy, and despite the last-minute plans, it felt good to be here.

“Even though I try to convince myself that we still have something left, I just don’t feel it anymore,” Chloe admitted, swirling her drink in her hand. The conversation had taken a turn toward her struggling relationship. Everyone listened intently.

“We’ve both gotten so caught up in our own responsibilities that we barely connect anymore," she continued, her voice even, like she had already made peace with it.

You studied her face, searching for some sign of heartbreak, but she just looked… tired. Maybe even indifferent.

Chloe was a fashion model, and her boyfriend was a marine engineer. Their lives had been moving in different directions for a while now. The long distance, the fading feelings, it had all been dragging on for too long.

“If you’re not happy, why stay?” Mina asked, echoing what everyone was probably thinking. "This has been going on for two years, Chloe. Maybe it’s time to let go. We’re not getting any younger."

The weight of the conversation made you pause.

It got you thinking about Jungkook. About your relationship.

You’d been with him for half a year now, and honestly, things had been good. No major problems, no doubts. Just happiness. Just him.

But how long would it stay that way?

What would your problems even be? What could you possibly fight about? Could your love for him fade the way Chloe’s did for her boyfriend?

The thought unsettled you.

Before you could get lost in it, your phone rang. The table fell silent as everyone glanced at you. You quickly grabbed it, checking the caller ID.

Jungkook.

You excused yourself and stepped outside, pressing the phone to your ear.

"Hey, Kook," you greeted softly, staring down at your feet.

“You’re out?” His voice was calm, but there was something off about it.

"I sent you a message," you said, glancing through the pub’s window at your friends. "I’m with my friends."

“I’m at your place.”

Your breath hitched. "I thought you were coming home tomorrow?"

"The conference ended at seven. I decided to drive back instead of staying overnight." His tone was flat, unreadable.

“Oh.” You fidgeted with the hem of your top.

“I came straight to your apartment, thinking you’d be there,” he added. “But you weren’t.”

You hesitated. "Mina invited us out. It was last minute, but everyone was free, so…"

"I didn’t see your message until I got here."

You weren’t sure where this was going, but before you could say anything, he spoke again.

"Are you heading home soon?" His voice was calm, but you could sense the impatience laced within it.

"I'm… not sure," you admitted, just as Henry stepped outside, lighting a cigarette. 

"Who are you talking to?" Henry asked casually.

"Jungkook," you said, turning your back to him. “I think we’ll end at ten or eleven. Depends on their mood.” You added to Jungkook.

Henry took a drag of his cigarette, chuckling. "Chloe wants to go clubbing after this. We’ll probably be out past eleven."

You shot him an annoyed look. "Move away. I don’t want to inhale your cigarette."

He just laughed, stepping back into the pub.

"I'm not sure what time this will end," you told Jungkook. "If you want, you can rest in my room. I just cleaned everything." You tried to lighten the mood, but he sighed on the other end.

“Y/N, it’s late. You should rest. You’ve had a long day.”

His voice was gentle, but something about it felt off.

"I’ll be home before eleven," you promised. "You should rest too."

“I’ll just pick you up.”

You blinked. "No, it’s fine. Henry said he’d drive me home."

Silence. Then—

“Really?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

You frowned. "What?"

“I don’t know. Just doesn’t sit right with me. The idea of you letting another man drive you home while your boyfriend is literally waiting at your place.”

You sighed, frustration creeping in. "Jungkook, it’s Henry. You know him."

"Okay then," he said, the edge in his voice sharp enough to cut. "I’ll just rest. Bye."

And then he hung up.

You stared at your phone, stunned.

The hell was that?

Jungkook was never the jealous type. He knew Henry. He knew there was nothing between you two. So why was he suddenly acting like this?

Maybe he was just exhausted. After all, he’d driven almost four hours straight after a long business trip.

Still, something about that call left you uneasy.

As soon as you stepped back inside, you grabbed your things and announced, “Jungkook’s at my place. He’s looking for me.”

Your friends exchanged glances, and their curiosity arose.

Mina gently grabbed your wrist, stopping you mid-motion. “Then let him wait. I thought he was out of town for business?”

“He went home right after,” you replied.

Henry took a slow sip of his beer before butting in. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re running off.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes. “Did you two fight?”

You shook your head a little too quickly. “I just really need to go.”

Mina arched a brow, arms crossed. “So, you’re just leaving? Again? You did the same thing last time when you said you were coming over, but surprise, Jungkook had plans, and we never saw you.” 

You flinched at her words because, well… she wasn’t wrong. You had bailed on them before, not intentionally, but it still happened.

“I know, and I apologized,” you said, voice softer now.

Mina scoffed. “Right, and now you’re ditching us again?” 

You hesitated. A part of you wanted to stay, but what was the point if your mind was already elsewhere? Jungkook was at your place, waiting. And the way he sounded earlier… something felt off. You wouldn’t be able to enjoy yourself knowing that.

“I’m sorry. I swear I’ll make it up to you,” you said, rushing to press a quick kiss on their cheeks before grabbing your things.

Henry even offered to drive you home, but you shut that down immediately. No way in hell were you making things worse.

You tried calling Jungkook and then texting, but he didn’t answer. Not even once.

Did he stay? Did he leave? Was he sleeping or ignoring you on purpose?

You had no idea. All you knew was that you needed to get home. Fast.

The moment you step inside your apartment, you don’t need any grand gestures to tell you Jungkook is here. His shoes are neatly tucked in the corner and his coat draped over the couch’s hand rest.

You opened the lights, scanning the room, but you already know where he is. Your bedroom door is closed, and something in the air tells you he’s behind it.

For a moment, you hesitate. Then, without overthinking, you twist the doorknob and step inside.

There he is.

Stretched out on your bed, sound asleep. The bed that fits you just right somehow looks too small with him in it, his presence making the room feel both full and impossibly small. A soft glow from your bedside lamp casts delicate shadows across his face, highlighting his perfect features.

You step closer and notice he’s already changed into the clothes he keeps here, a reminder of how often your space has become his, too. Whenever you choose to stay here, he chooses to stay with you.

You can feel the shift in the air before he even stirs. After watching him sleep for a few quiet moments, he moves, his eyes fluttering open and landing on you almost instantly.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" you ask softly.

He sits up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before shaking his head. "You’re back? I thought you were staying out longer." His voice is low and laced with sleep, but as he stands to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, you search his expression for any lingering annoyance. He seems calm now, so maybe whatever tension was there before has faded.

"You wanted me to come home, right?" You meet his gaze, trying to read him.

"Yeah, but if you really wanted to stay out, you didn’t have to leave early," he replies easily.

"But you wanted me home," you counter, brows slightly furrowed.

"I did. But I didn’t force you, did I? I told you I’d rest, and I did." His tone is matter-of-fact, like the answer is obvious.

"Then why did you sound so irritated? You didn’t force me, sure, but you acted like you were pissed." You pull back, doing your best to keep your voice steady.

"I'm not irritated. I'm just worried that you were out late and I wasn’t around. That’s it."

And now, his tone says otherwise.

You just stare at him, at the way his frustration lingers in the air, thick and heavy. The whole situation is fucked, and you don’t even know how to respond.

You want to be mad, but you can’t figure out if you even have a reason to be. You want to walk out, slam the door behind you, let him deal with whatever this is on his own. But you don’t move.

You just stand there. Watching. Waiting.

After a moment, he lets out a breath, his shoulders easing. When he meets your eyes again, the tension between you starts to fade.

Without another word, he steps forward, closing the space between you. His arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you in as his warmth.

His lips find your neck, brushing against it before pressing soft kisses along your skin, his grip tightens around you.

"Look, I’m sorry, Y/N," he murmurs against your skin. "I’m just tired. And when I got home, all I wanted was to see you, but you weren’t here."

Another kiss. Then another. 

That night was filled with quiet embraces and soft kisses. You let him hold you until sleep takes over, as if the tension from earlier had never existed.

A lingering thought sits at the back of your mind, something unspoken, but you push it aside, choosing to sleep it away.

By the next day, everything falls back into place. No more arguments, no tension, just the usual life of being with him in his space. You had worried that the disagreement might leave a crack, but just like you, he let it go.

You find yourself falling for him even more. Not just for the way he listens, but for how he truly understands you. For the way he always makes sure you're okay, making life with him feel effortless.

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and with every passing moment, your love for him only deepens. It still feels surreal, to have someone like Jungkook; a man who loves you in all the right ways. A man so close to perfect, you struggle to find a single flaw. It sounds almost too good to be true, yet here you are, living it.

But perfection is an illusion. No one is truly flawless. Sometimes, love makes you see only what you want to see, painting over imperfections with rose-colored strokes. Maybe it’s because you love him so much that you’ve convinced yourself he’s perfect. Maybe, without realizing it, you’ve chosen not to notice the flaws.

You take a deep breath, eyes lingering on Chloe’s Instagram story. A picture of her, Mina, and Henry on the hiking trip you had all planned together. A trip you were supposed to be on. It had been set in since last year, but in the end, you stayed behind. Because Jungkook didn’t want you to go.

As much as you hate to admit it, it frustrates you. He had brushed it off as concern, calling it too dangerous, even though the trail was a well-known tourist spot with guides and safety measures in place. You hadn’t even asked for his permission, just informed him of your plans, but he shut it down anyway. And that sucked.

But you didn’t push. The moment you sensed his growing irritation, you backed off, not wanting to turn it into something bigger.

“It’s okay, love. We’ll plan a hiking trip together. I just don’t want you going without me, I’d go insane worrying about you,” Is the only thing he says before he showers you with kisses.

To be fair, he did follow through. A week after your friends went, he took you on your own hiking trip, just the two of you. It wasn’t the same trail, but the effort was there, and you genuinely appreciated it. Still, no matter how much you tried to shake it, a part of you couldn’t ignore the longing in your chest, the part that wished you had gone with them.

It was a Tuesday afternoon in the thick of summer when your phone buzzed with a call from your father. He was asking you to come home for his birthday dinner. Of course, you hadn’t forgotten his special day, but the invitation itself was unexpected.

Your dad never really made a big deal out of his birthday. It was usually just him, your mom, and sometimes the kids—your sister's son and daughter. Sure, you’d been home to celebrate milestone birthdays like his 50th and 55th, but now he was only turning 57, and you were curious why he suddenly wanted you home for dinner.

The train ride would take two hours, but that wasn’t the issue. It was the thought of telling Jungkook. You hadn’t introduced him to your family yet, despite dating for a whole year. You wanted to, of course, but this was not the right time now that Jungkook was out of the country for business.

You really wanted to visit your dad for his birthday, but you weren’t sure if Jungkook would let you. 

Yeah, it sounds kind of messed up, but he’s been getting stricter about where you go, especially if it’s somewhere he’s not with you. They might suggest, "Why not just invite him?" But, of course, he’s out of the country right now, so that’s not even an option.

You thought about not telling him at all, but you knew you’d feel guilty. And if you were being honest, he’d find out eventually, somehow. He always did.

So, you decided to bite the bullet and just let him know you were heading home to celebrate with your dad. You sent a quick message, figuring it was easier than calling, especially since he was probably busy. Plus, you honestly didn’t want to deal with his reaction over the phone.

But, of course, he called you right after the message was sent.

“Yes, Kook?” You answered, nervously biting your nails.

“You said you’re going home for your dad’s birthday?” He asked, his voice laced with uncertainty as you tried to figure out his mood.

“Yeah, he called me out of nowhere for dinner tonight.” You replied, absentmindedly playing with your lips, hoping the casual tone would ease the tension.

“How are you getting there? I’ll be home tomorrow evening.”

“It’s fine. Just a train ride, nothing to worry about.”

You wanted to reassure him in a single breath; that you’d be fine, that it was safe, and if it got late, you could always stay overnight. But for some reason, the words wouldn’t come.

“Can’t you just go over the weekend? We could go together. You have work tomorrow anyway.” His voice held that familiar, persuasive tone, trying to talk you out of it.

“Today’s his birthday, and he asked me to be there.”

You wished you had more energy to push back, to explain how important it was to you, but honestly, if he didn’t want you to go, then whatever.

“Okay.”

His response caught you off guard, almost so much that you didn’t hear it at first.

“What?”

“You can go. It’s your dad’s birthday. I just want you to take care of yourself on the ride, okay?”

You paused, not quite believing what you were hearing. No argument? No complaints? You almost wondered if he was playing some mind game, letting you go without any resistance.

“Love, it’s your father. Of course, I’ll let you go. Sure, I’m worried about your safety, but I don’t want you to miss his birthday.”

You felt a mix of relief and confusion. So, you excitedly planned the trip, knowing you’d make it home to see your dad. You even considered staying over if it got too late, just to catch the first train back in the morning.

It had been years since you last saw your parents, the last visit being when they came to the city for a doctor’s appointment and to check up on you, of course.

Before heading home, you stopped by a few shops to pick out gifts—not just for your dad, but for the whole family. A little something for your mom, your sister, and of course, the biggest gifts went to your niece and nephew. You missed them, and choosing things that reminded you of them felt like a small way to show it.

The train ride was uneventful, quieter than usual, probably because it was just an ordinary weekday. As soon as you arrived, you were met with warm hugs and excited voices. You handed out the gifts—clothes, perfume, and a wristwatch for the adults, and toys for the little ones.

“I don’t even remember the last time I saw you!” your sister, Alice, said as you all gathered around the dining table.

You laughed, reaching for a serving of food. “I know. Last time I saw you, you weren’t this fit. Damn, what are you even taking?” you teased, watching her roll her eyes.

“Y/N, how have you been? How’s work?” your dad asked, cutting into his steak. Then, with a teasing smirk, he added, “I heard you’ve got a boyfriend now.”

Your mom chuckled, clearly amused.

“Work’s been good! Actually, I just got promoted and got a salary increase,” you said with a proud grin.

“Well, duh. That’s because your boyfriend is literally one of the major stakeholders,” Alice said, raising a knowing eyebrow while taking a bite of her food.

She wasn’t wrong. Even though she lived far away, you always kept in touch, and out of everyone, she was the one who knew the most about your relationship.

“Wow, he sounds like a big deal. Why didn’t you bring him?” your mom asked with a smile.

“He’s in France for a business trip,” you replied simply.

Half of the dinner conversation revolved around Jungkook. It felt good to talk about him, to say his name out loud in a space where you didn’t have to think too much about anything else. It reminded you why you loved him, why you chose to be with him. You usually only talked about him with Alice or Chloe. Mina and Henry, on the other hand, weren’t as eager to hear about him.

You knew why. They thought you had changed, that you’d become distant since you started dating Jungkook. And, well… they weren’t entirely wrong. You weren’t as available as you used to be. It wasn’t always because of Jungkook, but if you were being honest, a lot of the time, it was. Either you already had plans with him, or he just didn’t want you to go.

Sometimes, you wondered if that was normal. But every time the thought crossed your mind, you brushed it off before it could linger too long. Overthinking would only stress you out, and honestly, it was easier to just let it go.

As the evening passed, you felt completely at ease surrounded by your family. It had been so long since you’d had the chance to truly relax and catch up with everyone. Alice, living just a few blocks away, always stayed in the town with her husband while you ventured to the city. She had no need to move away, especially since her husband worked while she stayed home with the kids. You were happy for them, but you also missed these moments of simple, unhurried connection.

You were lounging on the couch when Alice walked in from the kitchen, holding her phone. She raised an eyebrow at you as she approached.

“Why aren’t you checking your phone? Jungkook called me, asking about you. He said you’ve been ignoring his calls.”

Oh shit.

Your stomach dropped. You’d completely forgotten about your phone. You scrambled off the couch, rushing to grab your bag from the dining room.

You pulled your phone out, and sure enough, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. Without wasting a second, you picked up the call.

“Love,” you said, your voice faltering just a little.

“Where the hell are you?” His voice was harsh, and instantly your heart started pounding.

You blinked, taken aback by his tone. “I’m at my parents’ house,” you said, trying to keep it calm.

“Then why the hell are you not answering your phone? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours! You didn’t even let me know if you made it there safely!” His words were sharp.

You winced at the force in his voice but tried to explain, “I’m sorry, I didn’t have time—”

“And what the fuck was that story you posted? You’re not at your parents’ house.” 

What the fuck?

Your stomach flipped. “What are you talking about? I’m with my parents. You even spoke to my sister, didn’t you?”

“I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know what you’re doing. God knows how you and she planned this to make me think you’re at your parents.”

The words hit you like a slap. Your breath caught in your throat.

Then it hit you. Your Instagram story. It was a story you reposted from Mina six hours ago, with Chloe and Henry. It was a photo from last week, but Mina had just posted it, and you thought it was cute enough to share.

“That was from last week, Jungkook,” you said, your voice ice-cold.

“Oh yeah? And how the hell are you gonna prove that? You’ve ignored me all night!” His voice had grown louder, angrier.

“Are you serious?! If I were doing something behind your back, I wouldn’t leave a damn trace!” you snapped, the frustration bubbling over.

“And when have I ever lied to you, huh?!” Your voice shook with anger. “Even when I know you won’t let me go, I still ask permission from you, like I’m some damn kid! I don’t have to do that, but I still do it because I love you!”

There was a pause, thick with tension, and you could hear his harsh breathing on the other end. After a beat, he spoke again, colder than before.

“Prove it. Prove it to me, Y/N.” He said, provoking you.

You could feel your chest tightening, the anger in you rising. “I’m not proving anything to you, Jeon,” you hissed, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.

You hung up without saying anything else, your fingers shaking as you looked at the screen. Leaning against the wall, you took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. You couldn’t believe what had just happened. The anger was there, but it was the growing unease that made your heart beat faster.

Before you can even process what just happened, your phone starts ringing again. His name flashes on the screen, but you don’t hesitate; you shut it off and shove it into your bag. 

Alice steps into the kitchen, her eyes scanning your face with concern. “What was that?” she asks, gently rubbing your back.

You straighten up, hands on your hips, exhaling as you stare at the ceiling. Before you can answer, Alice’s phone buzzes in her hand. She holds it up, showing you the screen. Your stomach twists at the familiar number. Unregistered, but you already know exactly who it is.

“Block him, Alice,” you say, your voice firm. Without hesitation, she does.

“What happened? We heard you arguing with him,” she asks, her voice low.

With your frustration, you pull out a chair at the dining table and sink into it, burying your face in your hands. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering anger. “The audacity to call me a liar,” you mutter.

You’ve always listened to him. Let him have a say in your decisions. Let him decide when and where you can go. Let him tell you what’s best. You’ve given him control over so much of your life, and yet he still finds a reason to doubt you.

How messed up is that?

He didn’t even stop to talk things through. Just jumped straight to accusations. No hesitation, no second-guessing; just straight-up assuming the worst.

And the worst part? It’s your dad’s birthday. Instead of enjoying the night with your family, you’re sitting here, fuming over an argument that never should’ve happened in the first place. Over words, you never thought he’d say.

But maybe… maybe this is your fault too.

If you had just let him know when you arrived. If you had updated him like he always asks. If you hadn’t reposted that stupid story from Mina; one that, to him, made it look like you weren’t where you said you’d be.

And the worst thing? He doesn’t even know you actually did see them that day. It was just a quick visit to Mina’s apartment, barely an hour. Not a big deal. Not something worth mentioning.

Still, even if you messed up, does that really justify him doubting you like this? Assuming the worst without even asking?

You know you’re not perfect, but you also know one thing for sure; you would never do what he’s accusing you of. Not in a million years.

You decided to spend the night at your parents’ house. Even Alice stayed, not wanting to leave you alone with your thoughts. Going back to your place, where silence would only make things worse, wasn’t an option. At least here, you had distractions; family, conversation, anything to keep your mind from spiraling.

Before everything with Jungkook happened, you had planned to catch the earliest trip home so you could make it to work. But after that argument, there was no way. The idea of facing a normal day felt impossible. You sent in a sick leave request instead.

Alice slid a glass of beer toward you, watching as you picked it up. “Are you living with him now?” she asked, her tone casual but laced with curiosity.

You rolled your eyes before taking a sip. “I told you not to bring him up.”

“I’m just asking. You always say you barely sleep at your own place.”

She had a point. And she had also convinced you to drink with her, claiming it’d help lighten your mood. You weren’t exactly feeling up for it, but she was persistent, and since you weren’t going to work tomorrow, so you figured, why not?

“I stay at his place a lot, but I still go home whenever I want.”

Alice snorted. “That’s literally just living together, but with extra steps.”

“It’s not if I still have my own apartment.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She smirked, then grabbed her phone, scrolling for a song. As music filled the space, she glanced at you again. “You know, from what you’ve told me, he seems nice. But still… be careful. No matter how long you’ve been with someone, you never really know them.”

She wasn’t wrong.

It had only been two years since you reconnected with Jungkook. It felt like a long time, but was it enough to really know who he was?

Now that you thought about it, there was a lot you didn’t know.

His job? You knew he dealt with big companies, something about stakeholders, but the details were always vague.

His family? He never talked about them.

His past? Barely mentioned.

Even something as big as whether he planned to stay here or go back to Korea, he never really said. And you never pushed, assuming he’d tell you when he was ready.

But still… you couldn’t help but wonder.

You woke up with a headache; not from drinking too much, just from barely sleeping. You had tossed and turned all night, your thoughts refusing to let you rest. And now, after barely two hours of sleep, you were already awake.

Staying in bed was tempting, but lying there only meant giving your mind more time to replay last night’s argument. So, with a deep sigh, you forced yourself up and headed downstairs for breakfast.

Before you even reached the dining hall, you heard voices—loud, cheerful conversation. Strange. It wasn’t just your family. Maybe some neighbors had stopped by, or a distant relative had come for your dad’s birthday.

But no.

Because sitting at the dining table, grinning like he belonged there, was Jungkook.

Your mom’s face lit up when she saw you. “Y/N, you’re finally awake! Look who’s here!” She gestured for you to sit, her excitement completely unbothered by the fact that you had a massive argument with him just hours ago.

Jungkook met your gaze with a warm smile as if nothing had happened.

“He came early this morning to pick you up for work,” your mom continued. “But Alice told him you were taking the day off.”

Your dad chuckled, clapping Jungkook on the back. “Straight from France, Y/N! We thought you were just making excuses not to bring him over, but here he is!”

Jungkook only laughed at that, completely at ease.

You, on the other hand, said nothing. You were still irritated, but you couldn’t deny the shock of seeing him here. He told you he wouldn’t be back until tonight, yet here he was, casually having breakfast with your family like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And they liked him. A lot.

The conversation kept flowing, and from the way everyone talked to him, it was clear they’d already warmed up to him. This wasn’t exactly how you imagined introducing him to your family, but at least you skipped the awkward “Hey, Mom and Dad, this is my boyfriend” speech.

Alice shot you a knowing smirk. “Alright, we’ll get going and let you two talk,” she said, winking as she stood up.

You shot her a glare, but she only grinned.

They excused themselves, leaving just you and Jungkook in the dining hall.

He sat across from you, a cup of coffee in front of him, while you quietly ate your breakfast, letting him stare. You weren’t in the mood to break the silence first.

“You turned off your phone.” His voice was steady, but there was something behind it. Something tight.

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “Obviously.”

“You had me worried.” His expression turned serious, waiting for you to respond. But you didn’t. You let the silence stretch between you, taking another bite of your bread.

Jungkook sighed. “Look, Y/N. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to lash out at you last night. I just... I panicked when you didn’t answer my calls or messages. And then I saw your Instagram story with your friends, and I—”

He reached for your hand resting on the table, his fingers wrapping around yours. His eyes softened, pleading.

Damn it.

He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing slow kisses against your palm, his fingers playing with yours. You stayed quiet, watching him, feeling the warmth of his lips against your skin.

“I know I messed up,” he murmured between kisses. “That’s why I’m here, love. I’m really sorry.”

And just like that, your irritation wavered.

The frustration, the anger, the late-night overthinking. It all started slipping away.

With just a kiss on your palm, your resolve crumbled.

With just the fact that he flew back early to fix things, all the things that had you upset suddenly didn’t feel that heavy anymore.

He slowly let go of your hand, reaching for something beside him. Your breath hitched the moment you saw it, a bouquet of pink carnations, wrapped in soft lime green and peach paper.

Jungkook stood up, moving to sit beside you, placing the bouquet in your hands. You blinked, caught off guard, struggling to find the right words.

“I was supposed to leave later this afternoon,” he admitted, voice low, “but I couldn’t stand leaving things unresolved. And when I couldn’t reach you... I just couldn’t let it happen.”

Being loved by Jeon Jungkook feels damn good.

From the way he puts in effort to how he always finds ways to make you happy. From his care to his unwavering support, being in love with him feels easy; effortless. Of course, you won’t deny that his looks and wealth are nice perks, but those are just extras. What truly matters is how he loves you, how he makes you feel secure in his own way.

So, without hesitation, you let the issue slide.

You never really planned to stay mad at him for long. You just needed a little space, a moment to process everything. But that became impossible the second he flew across countries just to fix things with you. And if you were being honest, the argument happened because you ignored his calls and then reposted Mina’s story without thinking.

You ended up staying at your parents' house until after lunch. Not because you wanted to, but because your parents weren’t ready to let Jungkook go just yet. They really seemed to like him. The way he talked to them so comfortably, how they got his humor, how he charmed them effortlessly. They were practically keeping him hostage with their endless questions and stories.

Not that you based your love life on your parents’ approval, but it was nice to see them get along better than you expected. Jungkook wasn’t hard to like. Maybe back in high school, when he was more reserved, but now? Now, as a grown man with a business mindset, he knew how to win people over.

Well… except for your friends.

To be fair, they barely knew him. Most of their interactions were limited to the quick moments when he’d pick you up after you hung out with them.

Life with him has been good. No major arguments, no real problems. At least, not as long as you kept him updated on your whereabouts. He did the same for you, but you made it a point to let him know what was happening in your life, especially when he wasn’t around.

Because that’s all he really wanted.

For you to check in, to let him know you were okay. You understood that; it was how he made sure you were safe.

But there were moments when you wished he didn’t care so much.

Specifically, when you wanted to hang out with your friends.

That was the only real issue between you. His tendency to limit who you spent time with especially if they weren’t your high school friends.

And when you sensed that pushing too hard would only lead to an argument, you backed down. You let it go.

Because at the end of the day, you knew he just wanted to protect you.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

But sometimes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it didn’t really make sense.

Hanging out with your friends has always been part of your routine, it’s your way to unwind, to reset. They lift you up in a way no one else can. Of course, Jungkook does too, but it’s different when you’re with them. There’s a freedom to it, a lightness that you don’t get anywhere else.

“Love, please? I can’t miss Chloe’s party. It’s her farewell before she leaves for America.”

You tried to reason with Jungkook, hoping he’d understand. Chloe was chasing her dream, heading off to model for luxury brands, and this was the last time you’d all be together before she left.

“I’m allowing you, but I have to fetch you by midnight. You already know I don’t like it when you sleep somewhere else without me.”

His voice was calm but firm as he drove, one hand resting casually on the wheel. He had just picked you up from work when you decided to bring it up. You figured telling him now would be better than waiting until later.

“Love, this is the last time we’ll all be together. Come on.”

You reached over, resting your hand on his lap as you pleaded softly.

He glanced down for half a second, then back at the road, his expression unreadable.

“I’ve said my conditions, Y/N.”

Final. No room for negotiation.

Frustration simmered inside you. No matter how much you tried to understand him, this part of him never made sense.

Why does he always do this? Why does he insist on controlling when and where you can be with your own friends? People who were in your life long before he was?

You told yourself, again and again, that he was just trying to protect you. But from what?

These were your childhood friends. You had never been in danger with them, not once.

But, like always, you didn’t push. You let him have his way, let him hold the reins like he always did.

The party was at a club, nothing crazy, and afterward, everyone was supposed to crash at a hotel Chloe had booked nearby. She wanted to savor the last moments with you all before she left.

But, as always, you were going to miss out.

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll see you at midnight. I love you.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling away, walking back to his car, and driving off.

You were irritated, but you swallowed it down, not wanting to ruin the night. This was Chloe’s farewell party, the last time you’d all be together before she left and you weren’t about to let your frustration with Jungkook take over.

The party was packed. Chloe had invited everyone. Her high school circle friends, her college buddies, coworkers, even a few relatives. The energy was buzzing, the music loud, the drinks flowing. It was fun… or at least, it should’ve been. If only Jungkook hadn’t already soured your mood.

You did your best to act normal, plastering on smiles, laughing when expected, but Mina wasn’t buying it. She never did.

“You okay, Y/N?” she asked as you stepped outside with her while she had a smoke. You didn’t smoke, never had, but the fresh air seemed like a good idea.

“Yeah, of course!” you answered a little too enthusiastically.

Mina gave you a look before taking a slow drag of her cigarette.

“That’s the fakest answer I’ve ever heard from you,” she said flatly, exhaling a stream of smoke.

You forced out a laugh.

“Even your laugh sounds fake. Gosh, Y/N. Try harder.”

“Fuck you,” you shot back playfully, nudging her with your shoulder.

She smirked but didn’t drop it. “Seriously, what’s up? You haven’t looked okay since you got here. Did something happen?”

You hesitated. You never talked about your issues with Jungkook to your friends. Hell, you barely talked about him at all. It wasn’t just because they had… opinions about him. You just weren’t the type to discuss your relationship with others. When things got tough, you preferred to handle it on your own.

But tonight, you wanted to tell her. Just this once. Just so someone knew how you really felt.

But the words wouldn’t come.

“Just tired,” you said instead. “Had a lot of work to deal with before I left the office.”

Mina gave you a side-eye, clearly not convinced. “Mmm-hmm. That sucks,” she said, but her tone was laced with suspicion.

A beat passed before she asked, “By the way, how’s Jungkook? You never talk about him.”

That caught you off guard. Was she just curious, or did she sense something?

“He’s doing great. He drove me here. He’ll, uh… pick me up later too,” you say, trying to sound casual, trying to make it seem like no big deal.

But it was a big deal. And somehow, without meaning to, you’d just handed Mina the entire fucking truth without actually saying it.

Her brows shot up. “What the hell do you mean? You’re not coming with us after the party?”

You blink, caught completely off guard. You knew you’d have to break it to them eventually, but you hadn’t figured out how yet. And now, thanks to your own damn words, you were trapped.

“Didn’t we talk about this?” Mina pressed, her voice rising. “You said you were coming. Now you’re telling me Jungkook’s picking you up?”

“I—I mean, yeah, but—”

“He didn’t allow you, did he?”

“It’s not like that. I was supposed to come with you guys after the party, but I just… decided it’s not a good idea considering my state,” you say, blurting out whatever excuse comes to mind without even thinking.

Mina scoffs, raising a brow. “Oh, really? And you also decided it was a good idea not to tell us you’re ditching?”

“No! It’s not like—”

Before you can even finish, Henry walks in.

“Hey, what’s taking you two so long? Chloe’s looking for you. She wants to take a picture,” he says, approaching the both of you.

Neither you nor Mina say a word. But while Henry looks between you two in confusion, Mina keeps her gaze locked on you, practically daring you to explain.

“What’s going on?” Henry finally asks, his eyes flicking between the two of you.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?” Mina says flatly, tossing her cigarette to the ground and stomping it out.

You ignore the tension tightening around your chest. “Let’s go inside. Chloe’s waiting,” you mumble, turning to leave.

But before you can take five steps, Mina’s voice cuts through the air, laced with sarcasm.

“Make sure to tell her you’re ditching us  again after this, yeah?”

“What do you mean?” Henry asks, still completely clueless.

You glance back, trying to come up with something, anything to say, but your throat tightens. Instead of answering, you turn and walk away.

You swallow hard, holding your breath, forcing back the burn in your eyes. You try not to think. Not about Mina, not about the truth she’s circling, not about the weight pressing down on you.

Just breathe. Keep it together.

You’re almost at your seat when Chloe suddenly appears beside you, her bright smile and glassy eyes making it clear she’s a few drinks in.

“Babe! I was looking for you everywhere!” she exclaims, giggling. “Where’s Henry and Mina?”

“They’re outside,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “They’ll be here in a sec.”

But even in her tipsy state, Chloe picks up on the shift in your energy. Her smile fades, replaced by a concerned frown.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” she asks softly.

The moment the words leave her lips, your eyes start to burn.

Shit.

“I’m okay, Chloe! I just need to go to the restroom for a second,” you rush out, spinning on your heels before she can press any further.

She calls after you, but you don’t stop. You weave through the crowd, head down, feet moving on autopilot. The second you reach the restroom, you lock the door behind you and let everything crash down at once.

It’s harder than you thought.

You want to tell them everything. God, you’re so fucking tired of pretending. But at the same time, you want to protect Jungkook. You know exactly how they’d see him if you told the truth. Maybe they already do. Maybe you’re the one who refuses to acknowledge it.

You press your hands against the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. The music pounds outside. People are drinking, dancing, and celebrating. And yet, you’re here. Stuck.

You don’t recognize the girl staring back at you.

When did this happen?

How did you get here?

You thought you could handle it—handle the way Jungkook loves you. But now, standing here, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks, you realize something you’ve been pushing away for too long.

You’re suffocating.

The sudden knock at the door jolts you back to reality. Panic kicks in. You swipe at your tears, straighten your clothes, and force a deep breath.

“Just a second!” you call out, turning to the sink to splash cold water on your face. The knocking doesn’t stop. It gets louder, harder—urgent. But whoever’s on the other side isn’t saying a word.

Your hands shake as you dry your face. You pull yourself together as best as you can before unlocking the door, bracing yourself.

The second it swings open, you freeze.

Chloe, Mina, and Henry stand there, staring at you.

Chloe steps forward first, her drunken haze from earlier completely gone. “Y/N, what happened?” she asks, concern heavy in her voice.

You open your mouth to answer, but before you can get a word out, Mina moves in. Without warning, she grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the bathroom.

“Hey! Mina, careful!” Henry hisses, but she doesn’t let go.

Her grip is tight, but that’s not what stuns you, it’s the fire in her eyes.

The second you’re outside, away from the pounding music and the haze of the bar, she finally releases you. Then she turns, glaring at you with full force.

“No time for bullshit. Tell us what the fuck is going on,” she demands, arms crossed.

“The fuck, Mina? Can you chill?” Henry groans, rubbing his temples.

Mina whips around to face him. “How the fuck am I supposed to chill when she’s doing this again?! We’ve talked about this before, Henry and it’s so fucking obvious she’s doing it on purpose! For what? Her asshole boyfriend?”

“Mina!” Chloe snaps, but Mina doesn’t back down.

“What? Are you really going to sit here and act like this is okay? This is the last night we have together before you  leave, Chloe, and she’s pulling this shit again!” Her voice rises in frustration.

You barely register the words. Your chest is tight. Your throat feels like it’s closing up. You don’t even realize the tears are falling until you taste salt on your lips.

“Tell me, Y/N. Are you really sick, or is that just another excuse so you don’t have to come with us? Because you’re so obsessed with your boyfriend that you can’t even spare a single fucking night for your best friend?”

It’s too much.

“I wanted to come, okay?!” The words burst out of you. “I almost begged him to let me stay for just one fucking night, but he wouldn’t let me!”

Your voice cracks, and the tears come faster. You can’t stop them. You don’t even try.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry that I let this happen! It’s all my fucking fault because I didn’t want to fight with him! I didn’t want him to be disappointed! I didn’t want to make it an issue!”

As the words spill out, the truth crashes into you like a truck. How fucking pathetic. How small you’ve made yourself for him.

Chloe speaks up, her voice soft but steady. “Why would he be disappointed?”

“I don’t know!” you cry out, frustration pouring out of you. “Because he doesn’t want me to, and if I do, it’s a fucking problem! And I just—” Your voice breaks again. You drag your hands through your hair, gripping it hard like you’re trying to hold yourself together.

“I don’t fucking want that, okay? I know you all think I’m stupid as hell right now, but that’s the fucking truth! Call me obsessed, call me whatever the fuck you want, because it’s true!”

Your heart is racing. Your breath is coming in short, sharp gasps.

“I’m so fucking stupid, but I chose this. And I wanted to apologize for ruining this night, for making this about me when it was supposed to be for Chloe.”

Your back hits the cold wall behind you, and you close your eyes, gripping your hair, willing yourself to disappear.

Silence.

No one says a word.

You don’t have to look up to know they’re all staring at you.

Your head is pounding, your heart’s racing, and regret hits you like a brick wall. You didn’t mean to let it all spill out like that, but fuck, you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Goddamn it.

Your eyes flick down to your wrist. It’s ten minutes to eleven. You don’t have your phone, but you already know what’s waiting for you: missed calls, unread messages, or worse… he’s already here, looking for you.

“I should go. Jungkook’s probably—” your voice is tired, drained.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“I’m not letting you walk away again. And I’m sure as hell not letting that asshole control your fucking life.” Mina’s voice is sharp, unwavering.

“No. I’ll figure this out, okay? I'll talk to you—”

“Are you seriously letting him take over your whole fucking life?” She looks at you like she doesn’t even recognize you anymore. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Mina, chill.” Henry grips her arm, but his eyes soften when they land on you. “Y/N, listen. We’ll figure this out. We’ll help you.”

“What are you talking about? I can handle this—”

Chloe pulls you in, arms locking around you in a trembling, desperate hug. She holds on like she’s afraid you’ll slip away if she lets go.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” her voice cracks, and your chest tightens. “I’m sorry this is happening to you, and we didn’t even notice.”

The words cut deep, deeper than you expect. And before you can stop them, the tears come rushing back, spilling over like a dam finally breaking.

“We didn’t know… I’m sorry.”

With just one hug, the weight you’ve been carrying shifts. Crushing, yet somehow lighter at the same time.

With just one hug, the exhaustion seeps into your bones, making you realize how much you’ve been running on empty.

With just one hug, it finally sinks in. This isn’t just overwhelming. It’s unbearable.

“We were supposed to be there for you,” Chloe whispers through her own tears. “But where were we?”

And that’s when it hits you. You’re not alone. You don’t have to be. For the first time in a long time, you feel like you can breathe.

But then, regret creeps in.

“What exactly happened?” Henry asks.

You step back from Chloe, swallowing hard. “Nothing really happened.”

“Y/N, please,” Mina sighs, voice weary. “Just stop defending him for once.”

And then, you see him.

A familiar figure standing in the distance, phone in hand, scanning the crowd with a panicked expression.

Jungkook.

The second his eyes land on you, he moves. Fast. Almost running.

Part 1 of 2 It's been a year since I last wrote, and I thought I wouldn’t come back and would just be a casual reader. But here I am, writing again anyway, lmao.

[rafedarling]

Can you write a moment of an interview with Jimmy Kimmel asks Drew one or two questions about his relationship since him and actress!y/n have confirmed that they are together on an instagram post (that they are currently this year in a relationship according to the rumor of Internet users and media) and Drew mentions actress!y/n abt how she's amazing, that he will love to work with her one day :)

since i already wrote one for drew at jimmy, i think i should put them both on the norton show. hope you like it!

𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: you and drew are invited to the graham norton show to promote your upcoming movie, set to release in april. however, the interview isn’t just about your movie, it also touches on your recently confirmed relationship, sending the audience into a frenzy.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, playful teasing, past pining, and drew being the sweetest boyfriend ever.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @issabellec7

marie’s note: i just opened my wattpad account! from now on, you can read my fanfics on both tumblr and wattpad. however, i can’t guarantee that i’ll be very active on wattpad. a little update on my upcoming work, i’m currently working on the return of superman mini-series!

Graham grinned, waiting for the applause to settle before dramatically placing a hand over his chest.

“Alright, alright,” he said, pretending to catch his breath.

“Let me sit down first because I simply cannot stand here and do an interview with such a powerful couple.”

The audience laughed, and you shook your head in amusement. Drew leaned back, his arm resting casually behind you on the couch, a smirk playing on his lips.

“So,” Graham continued, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Not only are you both co-stars in your new movie, but also lovers off-screen. Is it true?”

The crowd went wild again.

Drew chuckled, shaking his head at the dramatic reaction.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his Southern drawl making the words sound even more charming.

“We are lovers off-screen.”

Graham leaned forward, clearly loving every second of it.

“Since you’ve already confirmed it on Instagram, let’s dive in a little. How did this all start? Y/N, do you want to take this one?”

“Sure,” you said with a smile.

“I actually met Drew through his sister, Brooke. I was in her friend group, and she invited me over to her new place once. That was the first time we met.”

Drew nodded.

“Yeah, Y/N was one of my sister’s friends, but after that, she kind of disappeared. We didn’t see each other again for a long time, maybe a year or so.”

“Ah, so was there an instant connection? Or did it take a little while to realize, ‘Oh, that’s the person I want to know more about’?”

Graham asked, clearly invested.

Drew turned to you with a teasing smirk.

“If we’re talking about our first meeting… I didn’t have feelings for her then.”

The audience gasped dramatically, and you burst into laughter.

“Hold on, hold on before you boo me!”

Drew added quickly, grinning.

“At the time, I was crushing on someone else. But when I met Y/N again later, it hit me hard. Like — why hadn’t I asked her out before? What was I doing?”

Graham gasped, clutching his chest for comedic effect.

“Scandalous!”

“I know, right?” you joked.

“Plot twist, I actually liked him from the very beginning.”

Drew’s head snapped toward you, eyes wide.

“Wait, what?”

Graham looked like he had just struck gold.

“Oh, this is juicy. Tell us more!”

You chuckled, shrugging.

“Yeah, I had feelings for him when we first met, but I knew he had a crush on someone else, so I just… kept quiet about it. I liked him so much that I couldn’t even date other guys.”

Graham covered his face, laughing so hard he had to lean back in his chair. The audience reacted with a mix of cheers and sympathetic awws.

“Wait, wait, wait… hold on,”

Drew said, pointing at you in shock.

“You never told me this!”

“I know,” you said, giggling.

“I guess I thought it was silly.”

“Silly?” Drew looked at Graham, then back at you.

“Babe, I feel like I need to apologize to past you.”

Graham wiped away imaginary tears.

“Oh, this is the kind of romantic drama I live for!”

Drew shook his head, smiling.

“I can’t believe you were out there suffering in silence while I was being an idiot.”

“It’s fine,” you teased. “You figured it out eventually.”

The audience burst into applause, and Graham clapped his hands together.

“Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say, thank goodness you did! Now, Drew, if given the chance, would you want to work on-screen with Y/N again?”

Drew didn’t hesitate.

“Oh, absolutely. She’s amazing; such a talented actress. I’d love to work with her again.”

You turned to him, surprised and touched by his words.

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said softly.

“I mean, I get to see how incredible you are off-screen, so getting to experience that on-screen again? That’d be a dream.”

The audience erupted into cheers again, and Graham dramatically fanned himself.

“Well, if you two ever do another movie together, let’s hope it’s a rom-com, because this kind of chemistry needs to be on display!”

Drew laughed, slipping his hand into yours.

“We’ll see what happens.”

Graham then leaned forward, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“And Drew, since we’re on the topic, what has it been like dating Y/N? Fans are dying to know how you feel about it.”

Drew’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, and for a moment, he looked at you instead of Graham. The teasing smile softened into something more sincere.

“It’s honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he admitted.

The audience collectively sighed in adoration.

“I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. Y/N is just… she’s amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who balances me out the way she does. She’s the most patient, kind, and ridiculously talented person I know.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, heat creeping up your cheeks.

Graham pretended to wipe away tears.

“Oh, this is too sweet. Keep going!”

Drew laughed but continued.

“She makes everything feel easier. My life gets pretty crazy, you know? Between filming, traveling, press there’s a lot going on. But with her, it’s like… I always have this anchor. Someone who keeps me grounded. And the best part? She never tries to change me. She just lets me be me.”

The audience let out a chorus of “Aww!” and you squeezed his hand, feeling overwhelmed by how openly he was speaking.

“Okay, this is getting too romantic for me,”

Graham joked, fanning himself.

“I feel like we’re intruding on a private moment!”

Drew chuckled, looking back at you with a grin.

“Well, you asked, man.”

Graham shook his head playfully.

“I did, and I’m so glad I did! You two are adorable.”

The interview wrapped up soon after, but that moment the way Drew looked at you, the way his words made your heart feel like it might burst, was already making waves across the internet. Fans were calling you the Hollywood couple of the year. And honestly? You didn’t mind one bit.

[moonstruckme]

I have a fae!sirius ask, but only if you want to write it. I’m just dying to know about that long afternoon by the creek you mentioned. Love me some whimsy smut♥️♥️♥️

Thanks for requesting!

cw: smut mdni

fae!Sirius x whimsical!reader ♡ 609 words

It’s the sort of spring day that only truly warms after the sun is well and high. Patches of shade make one wrap their arms around themselves and shiver, but the grass by the creekbed feels warm underneath Sirius’ stomach. The daisy petals kissing your bare skin are soft and dry. 

You shiver anyway as the delicate inside of your thigh rubs against Sirius’ cheek. 

You’re laid on your back under the sun, Sirius between your legs and your skirt pushed up to grant him access to the bright, wet glisten that dwells there. A few strands of your hair have made their way into the creek, but he doesn’t think you’ve noticed. Not with his hands under your rump angling you upwards and his tongue licking greedily up your slit. 

Of all the new and interesting flavors you’ve brought Sirius, this is his favorite. He can’t get enough of you. Of the warmth of your thighs around his face, jumping whenever he detours from his task to nip at one of them. Of the sweet nectar he laps up from inside you. Of the delightful, breathy sounds that keep leaving you. 

“You aren’t saying anything,” he notes as he finds again the small bead at your center. 

You make an amusing noise. “I—I’m a bit preoccupied.” 

Sirius smiles, kissing the bead to get that same noise again. “I’ve never known you to be this quiet.” 

“What do you want me to say?” 

“That you’re enjoying yourself. Are you?” 

“I’m—ah—I’m enjoying myself.”

Your thighs start to tighten again. Sirius gives your bum a pinch so they fall away. 

“That’s nice to know.” 

“You knew already.” 

“Did I? And how might I have deduced that, lovely?” 

“Because I—you—” You trail off into giggles, the sound as sweet as tinkling bells. His funny girl. 

“What?” Sirius asks. 

“Look.” 

He leaves the cavern of your skirt-clad thighs. The muscles of his back ache pleasantly at the stretch after so long being still, and your eyes find his as soon as he comes into view. There’s a dragonfly perched on the tip of your nose. 

Truly, it’s a terribly endearing sight. Sirius thinks he probably falls more in love with you every day, an endless and torturous descent that worsens each time you smile or step carefully over an anthill or bring him flowers you picked in the meadow of his own forest because they made you think of him. If there’s a bottom to his love for you, he hasn’t found it yet. 

But you already know all that; now, Sirius wants to play. He schools his features and gives you a flat look. 

“Not enjoying yourself quite so much, if you’re so easily distracted.” 

“Sirius.” You don’t buy it for a second, tilting your head down to smile at him. The dragonfly flies away, but your eyes don’t follow it. They stay on him, pinched with happiness. “See, now look what you’ve done.”  

“What I’ve done? He was intruding.” 

“That doesn’t seem fair.” You sit up on your elbows to see him better. It seems as though you’re taking a break, but you wet your lips, gaze dropping to Sirius’ as you do. He thumbs some of your wet from the corner of his mouth just to watch your eyes follow the motion. “We’re in his home.” 

“It’s my home, too.” 

“Well, we have to share it.” 

Sirius hums. “I think I preferred when you were being quiet.” 

You laugh as he ducks back beneath your skirt, resuming where he left off, but your giggles soon peter off into gasps and sighs. Sirius doesn’t hear much else from you after that.

[luveline]

coworker!james and his love hate gf meeting his parents by accident? she thinks he won’t own up to her but he’s super proud and calls her his girlfriend (for the first time 0.o) 

coworker frenemies <3 fem, 1.2k

You get the foolish idea to check in on James. Dying, he’d texted, won’t be in. Don’t miss me too much <3

And then, throughout the day, can you ask Remus to answer his phone please lovely, sorry 

Can you make sure my smiskis are all okay

I miss you too much 

Did you see that thing on the news about the goats in Spain ? 

Sometime around three, as you’re preparing to leave, his sporadic texting ends. You and Remus get on alright without James, and a quiet day comes to a close at four. 

“See you tomorrow,” you say. 

“Yeah, see you, have a good night,” he says back. 

You might. It depends on how James is feeling. You go to the shops on the way and wrack your brain for the things he likes. You know he likes cream of chicken soup: he brings it in his thermos sometimes for lunch. He likes freddos, tangerines, melon slices, and everybody likes balsam tissues and painkillers. 

James doesn’t necessarily have to let you take care of him, but it’s a care package. He can take what he wants and bin the rest. You get him some cool patches for his eyes and a box of teabags and consider yourself finished, paying, packing it into a tote, and carrying it back to the car. You get nervous on the road leading into James’ flat building, but Sirius’ car isn’t outside, just an old BMW that looks well loved. 

You pop the button to be let into the building and seconds later you’re opening the door. You make your way up the tight steps to the second floor and then the third, pausing to catch your breath lest you seem unfit just outside the door. 

You raise your hand to knock. James laughs from somewhere inside, loudly, and that laugh travels toward you until he’s yanking the door half off of its hinges.

When he sees it’s you, he grins. “Hello, beautiful.” 

“Hi. You okay?” 

He sniffles, but he doesn’t seem too poorly. His eyes are sore and he has a tissue in hand, but James is nothing if not spritely. “I’m okay, lovely, are you okay? To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“I brought you sickness survival essentials,” you say, dangling the bag on two fingers between you. “Just in case.”

He gets that look on his face you’re finding yourself on the receiving end of more and more. That You can be so lovely face. Like you’ve done something selfless, and he’s not deserving of it. “Thank you,” he says genuinely, quietly, slipping the bag from your hand and leaning in. You’re expecting the kiss on the cheek, just not the hand under your jaw turning you for a chaste one on the lips.

“Listen,” he says softly, “my mum is here.” 

You pause. “Oh.” 

“My dad, too, actually. She caught wind that I was feeling rough from Sirius and she’s brought it upon herself to come and make sure I’m alright.” 

“Oh. Well, well I’ll just go–”

He shakes his head. “Don’t go. I mean, you don’t have to stay, ‘course you don’t, but you can come in and meet them.” 

“As…” 

“What do you want to be?” he asks. 

It’s probably written all over your face exactly what you want to be to James. It’s the bag swinging from his elbow. It’s what he asked you not so long ago, sitting on the end of his bed with a puddle of nerves in your stomach. Do you want to be… this is the real thing, right? 

You didn’t know what to say, so you’d kissed him, and he’d known it wasn’t a yes or no. 

“Are you sure you want them to meet me?” you ask. 

“Yes.” He strokes your cheek with his forefinger, all gentleness, but then he gives it a squeeze. “Be warned, mum’s heard everything about you, even when I was sure I hated you.” 

“What if she doesn’t like me?” you ask, sickly. 

“She took your side every time,” he assures you. “I just mean she’ll give me a smug look every other minute. And my dad’s just happy to be wherever he is. But if you don’t want to… you know, if you’re not ready, that’s fine. I wasn’t gonna ask ‘cos I was worried you’d say no.” He winces. 

“I’m really worried they won’t like me.” 

“Why wouldn’t they?” he asks, as though the possibility is a pipe dream. 

“James, you didn’t like me.” 

“That had less to do with you and more to do with email politics,” he jokes, “lovely, you don’t have to come in. It’s fine, there’ll be other times.”

It’s his confidence in that that makes you take a step forward. “Do I look a mess?” 

“You’re beautiful.” 

“James, I just went to work, I’ve been up since six–” You give him you’re most pleading look, eyebrows soft and lips a little pouted, “please, just check.” 

James holds you by the shoulders, his gaze moving over you one feature at a time. “Still beautiful,” he says quietly, “you have something in the corner of your eye.” 

“Get it.” 

“I will,” he laughs, “just gimme a second.” 

You gasp as he almost pokes your eye out. 

“James, babe, who’s at the door?”

You’re surprised to hear a male voice and instantly endeared. James, babe, turns away from you, slipping a hand behind your shoulder to force you into the hallway next to him. A dark-haired older man is standing in the door to the kitchen, his smile curious and friendly. “James?” 

“Yeah, this is Y/N,” James says, “she was just making sure I’m okay.” 

“You've invited her in for a cup of tea?” Monty asks, a picture of his son as he gestures for the kitchen. 

“Tea?” James asks, watching you carefully. 

You attempt to hide your nerves with a nod and a smile of your own. “Yes, please.” 

Monty heads back into the kitchen. James runs his hand down your back and lets you step in front of him, bearing the brunt of his mother’s gaze all by yourself. “Hello,” she says, clearly excited.

“Hi.”

James holds you by the back. “Mum, dad,” —you suck in a breath— “this is Y/N. She’s my girlfriend but–” He raises his voice before Euphemia can talk. “It’s not been long, okay?” 

“James, why didn’t you say?” 

“Mum, I just–” James sighs. You go numb with the pleasure of the thing —you weren’t expecting him to say girlfriend. To own up to you completely. “You dropped in unannounced, and we aren’t telling very many people.” 

“It’s my fault, I didn’t say–” You start, tamping down a brilliant smile. 

Monty cuts you off swiftly. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. We’re all here now, aren’t we? So, you work with Jamie?” 

“Yeah, yes, I’m on the accounting team.” You relax into James’ touch, letting your shoulder be guided against him just a bit. “I started a couple of months ago.” 

“Almost a year ago,” James corrects. “Should we have that cup of tea?” 

You frown at the scratch of his voice. “I can make it,” you offer. 

Euphemia laughs, James groans, and Monty has a twinkle in his eye you aren’t familiar with. “I can make the tea,” Monty says, “why don’t you lovely ladies sit down?” 

“Does that include me, dad?” 

“Of course it does.” 

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Sideline Chemistry

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Sports Media!Reader

Fandom: UConn’s women’s basketball

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: As a sports media intern, having to interview Paige for a class project and games should be fun right, but she takes it as an opportunity to shamelessly flirt each time.

As far as internships went, I had a pretty good one. Covering UConn sports for SNY as a student journalist meant I got to attend games, interview players, and build a solid portfolio. But it also came with one huge downside—my current assignment.

Interview Paige Bueckers.

For most people, that wouldn’t be a problem. Paige was an easy-going interview subject, known for her charm and humor. But I wasn’t most people. I was also in her friend group, which meant I had to deal with that version of Paige—the one who lived to tease me, held eye contact for way too long, and always found a way to make me flustered.

I’d prepared a professional approach. Keep it short, ask good questions, and don’t let Paige’s antics get to me.

Too bad she had other plans.

By the time I arrived at the UConn practice gym, most of the team had already left. A few players were still getting shots up, but Paige was leaning against the scorer’s table, scrolling through her phone.

She looked up when she heard my footsteps, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite journalist,” she said, slipping her phone into her hoodie pocket.

I sighed, setting up my camera. “Don’t start, Paige.”

“What? I’m just stating facts.” She stepped closer, resting a hand on her hip. “I feel honored. You could’ve interviewed anyone, but you chose me.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to focus on adjusting my tripod. “I had to choose you. It’s an assignment.”

“Mm-hmm.” Paige rocked back on her heels, watching me work. “Admit it, though—you’re kinda excited.”

I huffed a laugh. “Yeah, totally. This is the highlight of my week.”

She smirked. “See? Told you.”

I shook my head, refusing to let her get under my skin. “Can you just stand over there so I can frame the shot?”

Paige moved to the designated spot, but instead of standing normally, she put her hands in her hoodie pockets and tilted her head, eyes locked on me.

“You’re staring,” I muttered, adjusting the camera settings.

“You look cute when you’re focused.”

My fingers fumbled over the buttons, nearly knocking the camera off its mount. Paige’s quiet laugh filled the space between us.

“Paige,” I warned.

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I’m just being supportive.”

I took a deep breath, trying to reset my brain. Focus. I hit record and lifted my notepad.

“Alright, let’s start. Name, year, position.”

Paige grinned. “You already know all that.”

“It’s for the recording, genius.”

She huffed dramatically but answered. “Paige Bueckers, red shirt senior, guard.”

I nodded. “So, this season’s been a big one for you. Coming back after injury, new team members, leading the team—what’s been the most rewarding part?”

Paige leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on her knees. “Honestly? Just being back on the court with my teammates. The rehab process was tough, but it made me appreciate the game even more. And, you know…” She flashed me a smirk. “It’s nice having my favorite reporter covering it all.”

I kept my expression neutral. “I’m sure you say that to every reporter.”

“Nah. Just you.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting back a smile. “Next question.”

Paige chuckled, clearly enjoying herself.

I went through a few more, mostly straightforward ones about team chemistry, goals for the season, and her personal growth as a player. And, to her credit, Paige answered them seriously—at least, until the end.

“Last question,” I said, scanning my notes. “What’s something people don’t know about you?”

Paige pretended to think. “Hmm. That I’m a great flirt.”

I blinked at her. “Paige.”

“What? It’s true.” She leaned back, giving me a slow once-over. “Want me to prove it?”

I pointed at the camera. “I will put this in the final cut.”

“Oh, please do,” she said, grinning. “Maybe it’ll finally get you to admit you like me.”

My breath caught in my throat. She wasn’t just playing around anymore—there was something different in the way she said it. Confident. Sure.

The air between us shifted.

I looked at her, really looked, and she met my gaze without hesitation. Her blue eyes held mine, steady and unyielding, a challenge wrapped in warmth.

I swallowed hard. “Paige—”

“Say the word,” she murmured, stepping closer. “And I’ll stop messing with you.”

The way she said it—low, teasing, but undeniably sincere—made my brain short-circuit.

A sharp whistle from the other end of the gym shattered the moment. I jolted back, turning off the camera.

“We’re done,” I said quickly.

Paige chuckled. “For now.”

I spent the next couple of days editing the interview, but no amount of technical work could erase the way Paige had looked at me. It didn’t help that our friend group noticed something was off when we met up for a post-practice dinner.

“You’re quiet,” Azzi noted, sipping her drink.

“Just tired,” I lied, stabbing at my fries.

Paige, sitting way too close beside me, leaned in. “Or you’re thinking about something. Or someone.”

I elbowed her. “Stop.”

Kk, sitting across from me, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Paige smirked. “She interviewed me. Got all flustered.”

I groaned. “I was not flustered.”

“Yeah?” Paige tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “So you didn’t almost drop your camera when I complimented you?”

Azzi grinned. “Oh, this is good.”

I shot Paige a glare. “You’re the worst.”

Paige just laughed, draping an arm over the back of my chair. “Nah. I’m your favorite.”

Kk snorted. “Yeah, this is definitely a thing.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Can we change the subject?”

“Fine,” Paige said, nudging my knee under the table. “For now.”

But as the night went on, she stayed close—casual touches, lingering looks, little comments only I could hear.

By the time I left, my heart was pounding.

A week later, my professor praised my interview, and my editor asked if I wanted to do a follow-up feature on Paige.

I hesitated.

Another interview meant more flirting. More of those looks. More of whatever was happening between us.

But before I could think too hard, Paige texted me.

Pb5🙄: So when’s our next interview? Gotta keep my favorite reporter happy.

I stared at my phone, exhaling.

Then, against my better judgment, I replied.

Me: Next home game. Try to behave this time.

Pb5🙄: No promises.

And somehow, I knew she meant it.

The next home game came so quickly, I wasn’t even mentally prepared.

So, when the first half of the game had been intense, UConn leading by only a few points against a tough opponent. Paige had been playing lights-out, and I knew she’d be the one pulled for the halftime interview.

I ran over my questions in my head, reminding myself to stay professional. But when Paige jogged over after the buzzer, sweat on her brow and a grin on her face, I knew I was in trouble.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said, eyes glinting as she took her spot next to me.

I swallowed hard, forcing a neutral expression. Professional. Focus.

“Paige, great first half from you,” I started, keeping my voice steady. “What’s been working so well for you and the team so far?”

She wiped her forehead with her jersey before answering. “Honestly, just playing together, trusting each other. The energy is great out there.”

A solid, textbook answer. Good. Maybe she’d keep it normal.

I nodded, moving to my next question. “You’ve been on fire, leading the team with 15 points already. What’s your mindset going into the second half?”

Paige tilted her head slightly, her smile just a little too amused. “Stay aggressive. Keep making plays. And, you know—keep impressing my favorite reporter.”

My breath hitched.

I knew she was doing it just enough to be subtle—flirty, but professional enough to avoid getting in trouble. Still, my ears burned.

I cleared my throat. “Right. Well—uh—” I cursed myself for stumbling, but Paige’s smirk only grew.

She lifted an eyebrow, waiting. Daring me.

I quickly recovered. “What adjustments do you think the team needs to make in the second half?”

Paige took pity on me, answering normally. “Just tightening up on defense, getting stops, and taking smart shots. If we do that, we’ll close this game out strong.”

I nodded, feeling my pulse return to normal. “Thanks, Paige. Good luck in the second half.”

She leaned in slightly, voice lower but still audible on the mic. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

I barely held back a reaction as she jogged off, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

And then I heard the announcers laughing.

I turned my head slightly, realizing the game commentators had been watching the whole thing.

One of them chuckled, “I don’t know about you, but I think Paige might have a favorite reporter for real.”

The other commentator joined in. “She’s got the confidence on the court and off it. That was smooth.”

I wanted to die.

The interview wrapped, and the second half started, but my phone was already blowing up.

Fuzzy Fudd: No way you just let that happen on LIVE TV.

Hey Arnold: Paige Bueckers is NOT real.

Icey B: Not sweetheart on a broadcast—BE FR.

Kayla Wayla: girl. GIRL.

Me: you three shouldn’t even be on your phone rn, like listening to coach fudd about the two man pick n roll p and sar been doing all night.

I groaned, clicking send before stuffing my phone in my pocket. I am never living this down.

UConn won. Of course they did. Paige went on a scoring tear in the second half, finishing with 27 points, and the team dominated the fourth quarter.

By the time I finished post-game coverage, I was exhausted—and dreading seeing our friend group.

But Paige had other plans.

As I packed up my things, she walked over, still in her warmups, a towel draped over her shoulders. “Hey.”

I glanced up, wary. “Hey.”

She grinned. “So, since I was on my best behavior tonight—”

I shot her a look. “Best behavior?”

“Okay, decent behavior,” she corrected. “I think I deserve a reward.”

I sighed. “What do you want, Bueckers?”

Paige shifted closer, lowering her voice just enough that it sent a chill down my spine. “Go on a date with me.”

My brain short-circuited. “W-What?”

“You heard me,” she said smoothly, blue eyes locked onto mine. “A real date. No interviews, no sideline reports—just us.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

She smirked. “You thinking about saying no?”

I exhaled sharply, glaring at her. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it,” she shot back. “So? What do you say?”

I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched. “Fine. One date.”

Paige grinned like she’d just won the national championship.

“Oh, and don’t think you’re off the hook for movie night tomorrow,” she added, nudging my arm. “Kayla said we’re doing a marathon, and you’re not skipping.”

I groaned. “Paige—”

“See you there, sweetheart.” She winked before jogging off, leaving me stunned for the second time that night.

I should have known I wouldn’t make it through the night without getting clowned for the halftime interview.

Kayla’s apartment was packed when I walked in. UConn’s entire women’s basketball team, plus a few extras like me, Sam and Kariny had claimed every available couch, bean bag, and blanket-covered floor space. The lights were dimmed, popcorn bowls were already half-empty, and The Lion King was paused on the screen.

But the second Paige walked in after me, all hell broke loose.

“Ohhh, look who finally decided to show up,” Ice called out, her smirk way too satisfied.

Caroline flexed dramatically from her seat on the floor. “UConn’s power couple has arrived!”

Azzi, the only one who usually kept it low-key, still shot me a knowing look. “I hope you’re ready for tonight.”

Paige just grinned, completely unbothered. I, however, was already regretting this.

We barely made it to an open spot on the floor before Ice turned to the TV. “Hold up, before we start, let’s go over tonight’s highlights.”

She grabbed her phone, tapped something, and suddenly, my own voice echoed through the dorm.

“Paige, great first half from you…”

I froze.

No. No, no, NO.

“ICE, I SWEAR TO GOD—”

“Oh no, let it play,” Paige interrupted, smirking.

The entire room erupted when we got to the part where Paige smoothly said, “Keep impressing my favorite reporter.”

Aubrey wheezed. Kayla facepalmed. Ice was on the floor.

KK pointed dramatically. “AIN’T NO WAY.”

I wanted to die.

“Okay, fun’s over,” I rushed, reaching for Ice’s phone, but Paige just casually leaned back, enjoying the chaos she created.

Azzi chuckled. “Nah, because the announcers even backed her up—‘I think Paige might have a favorite reporter for real.’”

Allie snorted. “THEY WERE ROOTING FOR HER.”

I groaned, sinking further into my spot on the floor. “This is actual harassment.”

Kayla nudged me. “It’s what you get for flirting on live TV and expecting us to ignore it.”

“I WASN’T FLIRTING.”

The entire room answered in unison: “YOU WERE FLIRTING.”

Paige, the devil herself, finally took pity on me. “Alright, alright, let’s focus on something important—like how I carried us to victory tonight.”

That successfully derailed the conversation, as the team started debating plays from the game.

But Paige?

She leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. “You were flirting, by the way.”

I turned my head sharply, ready to argue, only to be met with those damn blue eyes already on me.

Paige smirked. Held the eye contact.

I swallowed hard.

This girl was going to be the death of me.

Kayla clapped her hands. “Alright, we’re starting the movie! No more flirting in the corner.”

“We’re not—” I started, but KK cut me off.

“Shhh, let them have their little thing.”

I gave up. Completely.

Paige just threw an arm around my shoulders as the movie started, completely unbothered by the attention.

“Hope you like long movie nights,” she murmured.

I huffed, but I didn’t move away.

I was doomed. So, so doomed.

And, somehow, I didn’t mind one bit.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️