#thanks u guys for appreciating my last post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

70% of Tumblr users say the Dashboard is their favorite place to spend time online.

#thanks u guys for appreciating my last post

youaresimplylovely · 12 hours

Text

Fashion n' Cars

Pairings: F1 Grid x Verstappen!Supermodel!Reader Summary: Max Verstappen has a sister who is a famous supermodel but what happens when other F1 drivers start taking interest in her? Warnings: None! fc: Emily Ratajkwoski Proofread!! A/N: Happy 150 followerssss, this is a special post for celebrating our 150 followers. I js wanna say thank you so much for all the support and appreciation. I really do appreciate it, your feedbacks and comments makes my heart flutter. I promise to always give you the best i can and here's to many more <3 and again if u want to be added on my taglist u can input ur user on this form ^^ https://forms.gle/4Pk1HSDjTEg51Xo79

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 56,347,232 others

view all comments

maxverstappen1 beautiful but 4th pic was not necessary schat

ynverstappen im a model. It's my job. 😁

maxverstappen1 i'm sorry?? actually no im not sorry, why are you in my sister's instagram??? @charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc magnifique

ynverstappen thank you cha ^_^

maxverstappen1 stay away from my sister.

user not max being protective HAHAHAHAH

user GRAAAA MILANO FASHION WEEK + YN = FIREEEE

user omg did charles js comment :000

f1 can't wait to see you back on track Y/N

maxverstappen1 to see me win 😎

ynverstappen 😂🫡

ynverstappen

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 48,987,743 others

ynverstappen me n' fashion n' cars p.s a big congrats to my brother and to uncle nando and to pierre for a great race <3

view all comments

maxverstappen1 dank je schat but where's my picture?

ynverstappen graag gedaan and no <3

fernandoalo_official muchas gracias ☺

pierregasly merci ma belle, c'est merveilleux de te voir à la course

maxverstappen1 back off second french guy

pierregasly you don't speak french.

maxverstappen1 google translate exists.

landonorris was nice seeing you Y/N 🤗

maxverstappen1 stop flirting with my sister kid.

lewishamilton if you're ever looking for a new last name, Hamilton will suit you darling 😍

maxverstappen1 i will crash into you the next race.

carlossainz55 Te ves perfecta en rojo mi amor

maxverstappen1 you're second on my list of "drivers to crash" 😊

user SHUT UP I CAN'T MAX REPLYING TO THE DRIVERS COMMENTS IS SO FUNNY HAHHAHAHA

ynverstappen

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, and 60,834,765

ynverstappen he's handsome af

comments are turned off

part two??? :3

TAGLIST

@euphoricchills @charlesleclerx @Inchident-jgp @amethyst-bitch @dr4g0ngirl @likedbygaslyy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @httpstoyosi @evermore555 @bibissparkles @lokideservesahug @emmy626 @hiireadstuff @urfavouriteanon @darleneslane @anon555xxx @shelbyteller @spookystitchery @bearryyy

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #formula 1 au #f1 grid x reader #f1 blurb #carkos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #fernando alonso x reader #pierre gasly x reader #max verstappen x reader

616 notes · View notes

taegularities · 7 months

Text

colour me in: redraft | jjk (m)

Summary: The calm is more appreciated after a storm. Life with Jungkook proves to you that sometimes, joy can, in fact, overshadow grief. Yet, not without confronting and removing all hurdles standing in your way once and for all.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; some tame angst, sooo much fluff, smut ➳ warnings: new relationshippppp, so much hugging and kissing, yoongi!! tae!!, tears, abandonment issues, talk about social anxiety (just briefly and nothing serious!), jungkook drops a big question :'), a surprise in the middle, a surprise near the end, and then a SURPRISE at the end lol, many surprises, they're so crazy for each other it's gross; explicit sexual content: okay – kook is wearing a chain.. this vibe :'), making out, showering together, shower sex, spanking, biting, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, mouth/face f*cking, mirrorssss, he likes her ass and tiddies, tears, choking, v brief ass stuff, rough and soft sex, dom and big cawk jk, vocal jk, multiple orgasms, they're simps; ALSO YEAH THE ENDING :') ➳ word count: 25.3k ➳ a/n: so when i said this chapter would be shorter… welp lol. but i still think it introduces the next arc really well. i kinda love the ending!! .. and the next part will be </3 :'''') as always beta'd by my lovely @missgeniality 🤍 i hope you guys like this one a lot. worked my ass off for this fr :') if you do, please do support the chapter and interact with me, too, it makes my day <3 ➳ listen to: i need u by yaeow | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs | DC SERVER

Monday morning’s breakfast is awkward. Or at least, the very first minute of it.

The hands of your watch drift to 9 AM; you should’ve expected you wouldn’t be occupying the dining table alone. Your parents, sipping the last of their coffee, aren’t that much of a surprise after all.

You breathe a quiet breath of relief when their eyes dart towards your timid forms at the threshold, then back to the table. And a moment later, they’re pushing their chairs back across the marble floor before they clear the path to breakfast for the two of you.

Your father acknowledges you with a brief, polite nod on his way out, even flashing a similarly quick smile. Ingenuine, because his glance, fleeting when directed to you, is as disappointed as your Mom’s behind him.

Today, you understand. Somewhere in the depths of your recovering mind, you feel upset about shitfacing yourself so thoroughly, too.

You haven’t seen your mother in over two days. Jungkook’s post-showcase confessions brought you to Eun, and the next morning you barely scanned your room before you left for her place again.

Guess the momentary encounter in the hallway doesn’t quite count; you could hardly crack your eyes open. Combined with half the dozen naps you took in your locked room the very next day, you won’t exactly expect pride from her right now.

Until now, as she advances towards your body, you didn’t consider much of her side; you stayed focused on the other occurrences passing after sunset. Moments whose scent your sheets still carry.

As your mother comes to a stand, you prepare your vocal cords, breathing in to explain yourself until you realise that she isn’t looking at you at all. Her eyes are firmly glued to Jungkook’s face, devoid of enmity for once.

Instead, she flattens her dress, sighing through her red-tinted lips before she nods towards him and simply says, “Thank you.”

And that’s it. A little breathtaking, entirely new.

You’re dumbfounded when she leaves; Jungkook doesn’t manage a single word. You imagine that if you’re baffled, he’s probably rethinking her words to assure he didn’t hallucinate them.

But neither of you did. And the silence lingering for a couple more seconds proves the depth of reality; not that you’ll change your mind about leaving your place. But the hint of appreciation, shot directly at him is a pleasant first nevertheless.

Breakfast is patient but fast. The quiet atmosphere doesn’t derive from the night before or what your mother just left you with, but from the emotional fatigue slowly dropping off your shoulders.

Jungkook lets you feast in peace, a soft palm rubbing over the back of your hand every now and then to assure you’re okay. And you are. You’re getting used to these changes.

To this alternative to whatever you feared before. A chance to erase all words and start on a blank page; a white canvas, waiting for vibrant colours instead of monochrome gloom.

Yet, despite the tranquillity last night, still present in the air and in your aching limbs, you don’t understand the sincerity of all the confessions he uttered until you leave.

Because breathing in your car isn’t as suffocating as it was the last few weeks. Back when you’d navigate through the town alone, the passenger seat empty. Or when you plucked up the courage and drove to the showcase numbly.

Or when the pain pierced through your chest; when your drunk ass thought the world would remain blue forever.

All of it is gone when you buckle up, shifting in your seat as you announce, “Okay. Let’s finally get you home.”

The engine roars for a moment, the car trembling, but you only register the knot in your throat when he says, “Feels so unfair of me. Having my girl drive me around so much.”

You don’t miss the endearment; neither the way your heart skips a beat.

Incapable of a proper reaction, you clear your throat and stutter, all at once and oddly in succession until you settle on a weak, “Why unfair?”

“Because. You do it a lot.”

You really do not. The night the museum closed and you dropped him off at your place was one of a few times; besides, he’s operated your vehicle more than enough before, too.

But you don’t contradict him, instead lightly suggest, “Well, you can drive if you want.”

You’re relieved when he joins your smile, dimples ever-so-sweet and genuine as he promises, “It’s fine. I’ll just stare at you.”

The shudder along your spine is delightful — relentless, he keeps your nerves alight. Perhaps he’s back to the self you knew pre-broken-hearts, playful and teasing, but the effect of his words curses through your veins hotter than ever.

“That’s creepy,” you still retort; you’ll gladly keep fighting this sweet, awkward battle against compliments for life, unaware how to handle them. “And it makes me nervous.”

“Sorry.”

Jungkook laughs, the back of two fingers reaching to your cheek to graze it featherlightly. Maybe he feels the heat beneath your skin, enhanced through his touch.

By now, you’ve spent a year with him — as a party fling, a class frenemy and a blue flower. But each second ticking away brings a new wave of soft, shy speechlessness. New honeymoon emotions.

The certainty of his reciprocated feelings, the fact that you’re finally on the same page, makes you rethink his tender confessions and touches differently. Makes you navigate the relationship differently.

His eyes drift back to the quiet, narrow street, surrounded by houses and blooming gardens. Probably as tired of the idyllic utopia as you, he doesn’t spare the suburban setting any more attention.

He only lets a flat hand rub against his thighs, nipping at his clothing as he says, “God, I can’t wait to get out of these damn joggers.”

Right. While not a main focus, you did find the special attire at breakfast today quite amusing.

“Did you even get to shower since picking me up?” you ask.

“Yeah. When you were napping again yesterday. Just gotta wash my hair later tonight.”

Hmm. You spent half your day knocked out; Jungkook could’ve circled the world and you wouldn’t have known.

“Oh. Good.”

The road proceeds straight, emptier near the suburbs. You allow a reckless glance before tackling busy streets; his eyes meet yours in curiosity, hair even messier than the night he met you in front of the bar.

When he left his apartment in joggers and an old shirt, mane untamed and no extra clothing at hand, he probably didn’t expect to abandon his place for so long. It gives you solace that he doesn’t regret it.

You drop the million memories of yesterday’s sunset burning into your eyes and everything that introduced it. The drunk words and the begging.

And then drop everything that followed afterwards; more pleading, more touching, more confessions that were in no way uttered through inebriate but not quite through sobriety either.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

You drop all the remembrances to focus on the moment; just to make sure that it’s real. So you ask, “Why didn’t you wash your hair there, too?”

For a moment, you see a flicker in his eyes, short-lived and quick; and his answer shoots out even more rapidly, “Just so.”

He emphasises his admission with a shrug of his shoulder, but it’s not nearly as convincing as he anticipates. Not buying a word, you push again, “C’mon.”

“I swear.”

“I’m curious now, though.”

There’s a momentary drop of silence before Jungkook hums, thinking as though he’s crafting a plausible excuse. Then, he says, “I didn’t wanna be away for too long.”

“…Why?”

“Why would I want to be?”

Ah…

Hmm. Well, maybe that’s enough for now.

Maybe he’s still not used to laying his secrets open. Maybe you need to practise patience, too, and stop digging like that.

You know that’s not all there is, but you certainly understand that it’s not a lie after all. Despite the pause and the obvious way his brain racked for a reason, his tone is genuine. You’ve experienced his insecurities before — that’s not what it was this time.

So you focus on the steering wheel instead, turning it left and away from the truck you drove way too close to. Your distraction might kill you — right there, next to you, clearing his throat and sitting up.

“Oh,” he says, segueing, and you let him, “wait, I forgot. Could we stop by at Yoongi’s for a sec? I wanted to see how he’s been doing.”

An abrupt change in topics, but not too abstract. As someone merely acquainted with the man, you’ve been collecting info on his state from Jimin; of course Jungkook would drop by personally.

You take a look at your digital watch; it’s barely ten and you don’t need to get away before 10:45. Taehyung agreed to meet with you to accompany you to your new potential flat again, so you should have time for a detour.

But.

“Is he…” you start, “gonna be okay with me being there?”

“Why?”

“I mean, just ‘cause… You know. We weren’t the closest for a while.”

Jungkook’s forehead wrinkles in new perplexion, muttering a few words. It takes a couple seconds — but eventually, he figures out that you’re not referring to Yoongi and yourself, and his expression changes immediately.

To subtle pain, you’d guess, like he doesn’t want to relive the memory. Like it never happened; like you weren’t two pieces of the same shattered heart this entire time.

But then he sighs, a hand wandering to your thigh. He kneads it softly, as a reminder to himself and to you that the past isn’t transpiring right now; that you’ve finally breathed and waded through it.

His optimism is encouraging when he says, “Nah. He thinks you’re cool.”

“I guess,” you mumble. You tap the steering wheel nervously, lips in a thin line before you add a hushed, “And if not, that’s alright, isn’t it? Like, hey, as long as you like me? Yeah, I shouldn’t overthink it…”

Jungkook releases air through his nose. You perceive a subtle shake of his head, as if to scold you, hear him say earnestly but gently, “Don’t worry about me. I don’t just like you.”

And whether casual or not, his words engulf your body immediately, like a soothing warm touch across your chest, yet effectively freezing your beating heart in place.

You can’t pinpoint whether the weight of his own words ever affects him as much as it affects you, or whether harbouring these emotions has become a familiar habit to him. At least to you, his tone is conversational and promising, perhaps even subliminally reassuring.

“At the very least,” he continues, “he’ll never disapprove of you the way Jimin disapproves of me.”

Which… snaps you back into reality for a second.

Your friend’s name is connected to more than mere dislike for the man next to you; currently, you think of dark nights and lamp-lit streets. After-midnight shenanigans and near tears in your own car, driven by the man who broke and mended your heart.

It reminds you of a blurry picture; two guys standing near an entrance, the older of them patting the other’s shoulder; smiling at him.

You do wonder if it was a fabrication of your mind.

“Forget Jimin,” you tell Jungkook, speech broken when you take another left and resumed when broader streets start. “Also. He did say he’s growing fond of you.”

“Because you like me. I still need to prove my worth to him.”

You tut.

“Kook, you don’t need to do anything. He’ll come around eventually. Just be you.”

“It’s fine, honestly.” He leans in, nudging your elbow, echoing you with a teasing undertone as he says, “As long as you like me.”

You love it when the initial nature of your relationship breaks through the mist of newfound passion; when you find the foundation of what you were, remembering how you landed here.

Which is why you bite back a laugh the moment you suppress a sassy, teasing remark, as if on reflex. One steer shy from pulling into a parking lot, you breathe out. If you halted here now, you’d kiss him, you’re sure.

But you merely laugh, squinting your eyes as you say, “You’re okay.”

Yoongi’s apartment, now inhabited by only one instead of two people, lies a couple miles from the campus. Jungkook guides you through the streets, jumping from one harmless topic to another — you reach his friend’s place a lot faster than you expected.

The building stands at a quiet place, surrounded by mid-high trees that give the grey colour of the complex a bit of liveliness. You walk to the entrance laughing about something stupid, a subtle nudge of his shoulder here, you pushing against his arm there.

But despite the familiarity and whatever occurred last weekend, it’s still odd jumping into the girlfriend role just yet. The word itself won’t even roll off your tongue very easily so far because you can’t believe a thing about this new reality.

So your hand dangles next to his awkwardly. Your thoughts keep drifting, registering half his sentence at times. What-if situations of gentle kisses and upcoming nights spent together tighten your chest.

Jungkook’s speech is clear and fluent, so you don’t know what your impact on him is exactly. At least he’s made sure you do have one on him — but you still wish you had a map through his mind to understand every thought he houses for you. Every emotion.

On the way up you feel a little dizzy; whether it’s due to the circular shape of the staircase or his proximity, you don’t know. You only realise that something’s still bothering you when you’re halfway up, coming to a halt with one foot on the next step.

“Okay, seriously,” you say, and he turns to you immediately, puzzled as he drops to the same level as you. Close to you.

“What?”

“You said you didn’t wanna leave,” you repeat, still stuck on the hair washing and staying longer thought, “why not?”

The answer could be simple. Could be rooted in emotions and the confessions you later uttered — but there must be something more. You saw it in the brief feeling flashing across his eyes, sitting in the passenger’s seat with silence sealing his lips.

Maybe something happened… because something always happens.

“You’re still thinking about that?” Jungkook questions, eyes wide in disbelief; lips pouting.

“No secrets, right?”

This seems to snap him out of all mysteries, last night’s conversation travelling to the forefront of his mind. But something about your curiosity amuses him. He wraps the fingers of his left hand around the staircase reeling, head dropping with a delicate smile.

His hair hides his eyes, but you know they’re sparkling; voice a mild drizzle when he starts, “It’s…” He draws in, inked digits touching your elbow before moving up your arm absentmindedly. “Don’t worry so much. It’s nothing harmful at all.”

You wait. Let his thumb graze your neck, up to your chin.

He sighs, almost exasperated in a way. “You speak in your sleep, you know?”

Wait. What?

You blink, thoughts disoriented. The staircase is dimly lit, but you recognise the slight upward curve of his lips; more empathetic than teasing.

So you still do?

“Huh?” you make.

“I think you dreamed of waking up a couple times? You hadn’t, though, and it’d always be something about being alone again.”

Again.

The word reverberates through your mind, dragging and stretching. Didn’t you once read that a broken heart is akin to serious rehab, accompanied by withdrawal symptoms and slowly healing scars?

You guess your heart was hurting more than you already knew.

“Okay,” you say, nodding when he does, thumb lifting your head when you drop it. You swallow thickly. “What did I say exactly?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know anymore. Something about me leaving. And I was scared of waking you up while gone ‘cause you’d actually think I’d left.”

You hum. Allow yourself a moment to process the info; you seek out fragments of your dreams, but you draw a blank. You feel guilty about his concerns, yet relieved. Vulnerable. And somewhat reassured.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say.

Your voice is barely above a whisper — less because of the conversation. More because of the touch on your cheek. It’s soft against your skin, and you shiver. The flutter in your chest is only just bearable.

That’s the thing about falling in love. It’s sweet — so much sometimes that it twists your guts. You’re in so deep, you could hurl.

“Nah. You don’t need to worry about this anymore, okay?” he murmurs.

His eyes dig into yours. Dark and shiny through his healthy tresses, livelier than ever. Sincere.

You, on the other hand, must look unconvinced without intending to, because his mouth aligns with yours soon after.

He exhales, tilting his head, and says, “Look,” leans in, leaves a featherlight kiss against your cheek, right next to his thumb, “I mean it.”

Guess being with him comes with occasional mental blackouts. And regular arrhythmia. The palpitations behind your ribs are almost ridiculous; instead of gripping your own chest, you grasp his shirt immediately.

Lightly, as if you could collapse without this anchor.

He lets you pull him closer just a little, whispering as if someone could hear, “What’s wrong?”

Vulnerability hidden, you blink again, and joke, “Nothing. Just thought you were gonna kiss me.”

Jungkook smiles. His nose brushes against yours, toying a bit, and his bunny teeth make him look somewhat younger when he voices, “You want me to kiss you?”

“I always do.”

Your grin is playful, but your heart is pounding in your chest. Who would’ve thought the journey from a car to an apartment could be so long, so thrilling?

His snicker is gentle and canorous, knees careful against yours. Your heartbeat accelerates some more, rose-tinted lips opting towards their goal. You part your mouth, ready with a deep breath.

But the two of you are always subject to disturbances — so you’re disappointed but not surprised when you hear rushed steps on top of the staircase, strolling down and crossing your path just when Jungkook backs away.

The stranger passes by you with initial surprise in his eyes, not expecting you, but soon gets over it and drops his gaze again. And once he’s gone, Jungkook winks, a hand on your back pushing you forward gently.

“Later,” he says.

You know as you ascend the stairs.

Know that with the ease with which you handle your feelings for each other, you’ll strive towards a future where you won’t be haunted by dreams of being alone. Where you won’t fear his departure, and where his kisses won’t be interrupted by this cruel world.

The building reminds you of when you’d frequent the dorm you used to know. The walls and hallways are similarly built, narrow and somewhat cheap. They look like most buildings from the inside do, honestly, but you like the pleasant illusion the nostalgia brings.

Even the bathrooms are located near the end of the hallways; Jungkook once told you that Tae and Yoongi have their own kitchen, unlike him back when he still housed his dorm. But there’s a communal bathroom here, too; allegedly one reason why Tae moved out.

The only thing that separates this place from Jungkook’s old dorm is the subtle difference in scent. Not pure testosterone.

You smile.

The mood doesn’t match with what you felt back in June at all.

Back when you stomped to Jungkook’s dorm, furious about yet another insignificant issue, you didn’t think your fingers would ever be brushing his like they are now. Or when you escaped the rain and entered the building’s warmth, your umbrella leaving behind a trail of raindrops.

Your relationships, your priorities, your emotions. Your universe changed faster than the seasons.

As you walk past a random door, Jungkook cranes his neck, staring as if he could x-ray-glare a hole into it and glance at what lays behind it. Perhaps he’s thinking back, too.

You don’t know about all the things he experienced throughout the years there. Part of your heart stings because you remember you weren’t the only girl who ever frequented his place.

But you still left an impression — if the current status of your relationship isn’t proof of it, then the sudden touch along the back of your hand certainly is. A thumb following a vein blindly, opting to grasp your palm into his, yet retracting when you finally come to a stand.

The digit caressing your skin lifts to the door, and his knuckles knock three times, rhythmically. Your chest constricts as you jump back into the moment, probably half as nervous as you’d be if you met Jungkook’s parents.

A moment stretches as you wait for Yoongi to open, allowing yourself just another spiralling thought as you imagine actually daring a meeting with Jungkook’s parents. It’s too early to think about it, isn’t it?

It’s just.

Since yesterday, you’ve created a dozen different scenarios in your head, ranging from a civil, calm conversation with his father to a full snap. Half of you wants to know his genuine thoughts on his son’s sorrows; the other half wants to rage and then bolt away.

Ugh.

When the door swings open, your hand flashes to Jungkook’s. A startled instinct, even though nothing about the action was surprising or scary. But he doesn’t mind — of course he doesn’t.

His eyes rush to yours for a second, warm and somewhat thrilled, his smile permanent. And then he looks back at his friend, quietly squeezing your palm, the shy smile soft as he greets, “You’re walking without clutches, huh?”

Yoongi doesn’t respond right away. He looks from Jungkook to you and back. His gaze isn’t very telling, but you find amusement in it. If you weren’t so ridiculously and inexplicably nervous about his upcoming statement, you’d laugh.

Intently, he grants a peek at your entwined hands, and when he looks at the two of you again, he starts…

Smiling.

Gummies all out, a tiny laugh thrown in between before he says, “Ohoho. You’re here, too?”

The smile turns into a sly grin, a hand clutching the frame of the door. You guess he’s not as balanced after all. Possibly just abandoned his clutches for the short way from the couch to the door.

“I can totally go,” you tell him, the teasing tone missing; soft and small instead.

“Why in the world would you?” Yoongi steps aside carefully, nodding the two of you inside. You oblige, hearing his voice behind you jest, “Now, would you look at that. Did I do that?”

Jungkook automatically drops on the chair at the tiny dining table, like he’s arrived home, and you follow; make yourself comfortable on the seat next to him. There are three chairs, as though carefully chosen for the pair of friends who used to live together and a guest.

Next to you, Jungkook huffs, leaning back as he watches his friend plop onto the chair in front of him, and asks, “How would you’ve done that?”

“Well, you guys gathered at the hospital because of me.”

Right. Good point.

If he just knew how that night played out. Actually, you think he just might, yet not quite aware of its severity.

“Not because of you,” Jungkook promises, “I just charmed her again.”

You laugh. So does Yoongi.

He isn’t irritated or taken aback by the younger’s boldness; in truth, he seems entertained. Arms crossed, eyes small and grin wide. He half mocks, “The young ones are charming for sure these days.”

“Spoken like a true Grandpa,” Jungkook remarks. You press your lips into a thin line, but with a faint smile. You only listen; you’re in the territory of two friends who spend their time roasting each other. You’re not on that level yet, so you observe. “But I had to.”

“You had to, huh?” you joke. Okay, observation broken. Your body tilts towards him. “You didn’t need any of your charm for… this. But still good to know.”

Because you would’ve been putty in his hands, no matter what — charm or not.

"Can confirm," Yoongi agrees, nodding towards his friend, "that he was also a proper mess the last couple weeks. Very out of character."

Your eyes roll to the side to catch a glimpse of him, but the moment you detect the rosy dust on Jungkook's cheeks, you avert your gaze immediately.

Admittedly, the guilt in the middle of your chest is undeniable. But there's comfort in knowing you were never the only half who was deeply, perpetually falling.

Yoongi scratches his temple, doesn't meet your eyes; possibly shy when it comes to conversations like these. But he sounds warm and gentle when he says, "I'm really glad you guys are back."

You’re similarly timid, feeling strange. As if someone’s congratulating you on a fresh marriage. Or maybe that’s just the emotion you want, need to feel.

You say, “Thanks.” And then, ever-so-terrible with compliments, add a little, “Let’s say it was you. Double thank you to the man of the hour.”

Yoongi pulls a grimace hitherto unseen; it doesn’t faze Jungkook, but the Joker-esque grin and wide-eyed nod have you bursting into laughter. His friends are pleasant, you think.

If there was a way to lure Jimin in and convince him of this group’s collective appeal, you wouldn’t hesitate. There’s only a limited time you want him to play the petty, protective friend.

“So, how have you been?” Jungkook eventually asks.

Yoongi rubs the corner of his eye, stretching his injured leg under the table, “Never better. The bank is surviving without me. Besides, I haven’t gotten around to making some music in a while.”

“Tae did tell me you were enjoying your days off.”

Jungkook reacts with a tiny chuckle, but your eyes widen. You let him finish his sentence, and then spit, “Wait, wait. You make music?”

“Oh, I mean… I’m not any good,” he explains, wiggling a hand, a little startled as if he forgot you didn’t know yet. “I just. Make a few beats every now and then and write my own bars and stuff.”

“Wait, rap?” You stare between the boys, to and fro, only a little offended that you didn’t know you had a brooding future musician in your midst. “Can I hea—”

“No.” The answer is immediate. You pout. “Before you ask, I am way too much of a coward.”

“He’s amazing,” Jungkook intrudes.

And you whine, “Unfair, Yoongi.”

He imitates your expression, leaning back, copying your stance, and answers in the same childlike tone, “Warm up to me first! I’ll show it to you one day.”

“One day I’m gon’st hear it,” you declare, overly dramatic with your chin up, “you have my taste in music, you know? I know I’ll like it.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I can try.”

Yoongi blows a raspberry. You’re not sure what you expected; maybe subtle hostility. But the sense of casual camaraderie is refreshing; lounging comfortably in his living room was a picture far from your mind until now, and you think he enjoys the unforeseen gathering, too.

Because after a moment of stillness, a faint smile touches his lips, his voice back to normal and deep as he remarks, “It’s nice that you guys came. I get bored here a lot.”

Right. You kept wondering.

You don’t dive into the matter immediately, instead drenching your voice in a teasing lilt, “Even though Jimin visits you?”

“Shut up.” Mock exasperation rolls his eyes as Jungkook appreciates your joke, one foot pressing against yours under the table. “No. It’s just been lonely since Tae moved out. It’s a two people thing with two bedrooms.”

He shrugs his shoulders, attention fully on you. Jungkook either doesn’t have much to say or doesn’t want to interrupt. Only listens.

“Living here alone feels like I’m wasting space and money,” Yoongi finishes.

Curiosity piqued, you probe, “What did Tae say when he left?”

“He offered to let me move in with him. But that’d be pointless.”

“Why so?”

“He’s awesome for offering, but I think he wanted his own place, you know? Why would I intrude then? But I did tell him I’d look for another place.”

“Have you been?” you ask. You still remember how happy Taehyung looked last time you met him alone.

How he spoke so highly of a life on his own, gladly interrupted by the occasional visits Eun granted him. Yoongi, you think, would probably benefit from acquiring his own place, too — one that doesn’t remind him that someone left him behind, inhabiting a vacant space thought for two.

“Every now and then,” Yoongi admits. “Will think about it some more once my leg’s healed.”

You nod in understanding, a thoughtful hum escaping your lips. Yoongi soon leans forward, naked arms on top of the table, and delves into a discussion about the rising costs of rent.

He outlines the challenges of finding the right place in the bustling city, and explains his worries about the empty space in a too-large apartment. And you listen intently.

But as minutes pass, you can’t help but notice the contemplative silence Jungkook has fallen into.

It’s always the same with him — thoughts you can’t read, questions you need to postpone.

Because you do glance over at him, observe the distracted furrow of his brow, the distant look in his eyes. You understand he’s once again lost in unknown thoughts, and you sense how jumbled his mind must be.

But you still decide to hold off for the moment, out of respect for the ongoing conversation. You don’t focus on addressing his apparent preoccupation until it keeps going until later, way after you’ve bid Yoongi goodbye.

“Why do you seem so reserved?” you ask in the car, his home your new destination.

It must be around quarter past ten; you should still be able to meet Tae within half an hour. Yet, despite the brooding rush, you can’t help but wanna drag out the ride, finish this conversation.

“Hm?” he voices.

Did he not hear you? Maybe.

You sigh, seeking an available parking spot. You’ve already turned into his street, way past the park, halting close to his entrance. The engine dies, sudden silence inside the vehicle.

“Okay,” you turn towards him, forearm against the wheel. “You’re a lot less enthusiastic now. What’s up?”

He looks distracted. Drags his teeth over his full, pink lower lip hard enough for you to repeat, “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Uh.” Cue big boba eyes flitting to you. “I was just. Thinking about something.”

“Wanna share?”

“Yeah. Yeah, uhm. I swear I’m not trying to be mysterious, just. Not sure how to phrase it.”

He’s easing himself into this whole thing. The entire opening up act and being fearless with his feelings. So you don’t push him, but encourage, “Try. If not now, then maybe later, though?”

“No, no. Now is fine.” He frees his eyes off the dark bangs when he shakes his head a little, preparing to voice his hidden thoughts. Then, he breathes, “Yeah, so…”

One more second.

And.

“What if you dropped your plans of moving into that apartment?”

Oh. What?

Does he mean what you think he means…

There are only two options, right? And you choose to go with the one that would embarrass you less if it turned out wrong.

“Should I… do you think I should stay with my family?” you ask, your voice cautious.

But when his hands shoot up, immediately denying your assumption with round eyes, you breathe out through your nose. Relieved when he clarifies, “No, not at all. I mean, it’s up to you, but that’s not what I meant.”

So then…

“So you’re saying—”

He interrupts, rushing before he can back down, “Move in with me. And Yoongi could take the apartment you were considering.”

Fuck.

You didn’t expect your heart to jump up to your throat like that. It’s a day full of brief heart failures. You barely know how to react anymore.

You stare. Then stare a bit more. And eventually, you simply ask, “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean…” He gulps, averting your gaze all of a sudden before it lands back on yours. You chuckle quietly, unprompted, and it boosts his confidence. “You stayed at mine for days and it worked. It could… you know— keep working.”

The suggestion lingers like a fresh breeze, grazing your cheeks and twirling around you like a soothing force. He beams — though subtle, he seems to interpret the simultaneous rise of your eyebrows and your lips immediately.

Still, he inquires, “I don’t know… too soon?”

Technically yes. But then again, no. Because he’s right — you’ve already experienced a piece of heaven, tasted the bliss of domesticity with Jeon Jungkook.

“You really are serious about this, yeah?”

“Only if you want me to be,” he counters, less tense than before, but a hand rubbing in nervous circles over his knee, “if not, then I was absolutely joking.”

An awkward, little chortle fills the small space of the car; you shake your head, teeth out and smile bright. There’s sweetness in knowing that his affection is real. That the thought of shared future pains, joys and days — that it’s all actually become so unbelievably real.

The car is cool in the shadow, but you feel a strange heat coursing through your body. At the end of the street, you see the sunlight brighten the moment he laughs. Fitting.

The crinkly eye smile softens when he reaches for your hand, pulling it off the wheel and wrapping it in his. There’s an automatic reaction in your chest, a constant racing when he says, “I mean it, though.”

Brief pause. He looks down to your fingers.

“I think I got used to having you there. And then, at Yoongi’s I had this… I don’t know, overwhelming urge to tell you. That,” his teeth worry his lip, releasing it softly, “I want you next to me for as long as possible.”

You understand.

He means every minute that society and norms don’t force you out of the house. At nights and in the mornings, on off days and holidays. To fall asleep next to his presence, to wake up on the same mattress, too.

And the longing is undeniable; you know that it is. But you’re already swamped with decisions as it is — could you call off the apartment right here, right now? Rethink all you discussed with the landlord, Taehyung or yourself?

Life decisions are harder than that, and despite all the wants infiltrating your body, you can’t dive into this without a couple more following thoughts.

You keep gazing into his smouldering eyes, more intense when he looks up. Let their effect send a thrill down your spin, a surge of yearning through your veins.

And then, you acknowledge the need for prudence. You savour the moment, let the anticipation built, and flash a sultry smile to ensure that, yes, if not now, then one damn day, I’ll be yours entirely.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything to work more than this,” you admit, “but I need to—”

You halt. Words come hard to you these days; and the two of you are sensitive. It’s not easy to reunite after weeks of overthinking and distance; and you don’t want to provide more reasons to overthink.

But you forget that as sensitive as Jungkook is, he’s just as understanding and gentle, too.

Because he says, “You need to think. And I know you can’t just pack your things and move over, I just— I wanted it out there.”

“I know. I know.”

“And I,” he continues, “I actually thought you were gonna say no right away since you’re getting out of your childhood home just now, so naturally, you would wanna be alone for a while and—”

You lean forward, pulling your hands out of his grip. His eyes shoot down, baffled and confused, but you don’t give him a second to think or speak. In a moment’s notice, his cheeks are squished between your palms, his bunny face now akin to a duck.

“I don’t want to be alone. I’ve been alone all my life,” you tell him; Jungkook eyebrows furrow in empathy and worry, but you smile, “I don’t wanna be anymore.”

His expression and voice are dorky when he speaks, first words incomprehensible. You let go, watching the red splotches on his cheek, and he repeats, “Is that a yes?”

“It’s… I don’t know. A to be continued.”

“I’ll live with that.”

You don’t know if it’s the electrifying prospect of a life together or the confidence he follows his statement up with, but the insanity burns wild in your head. Untamed and dizzying.

“And I’ll wait for however long.”

“I didn’t even ask, I’m sorry… but are you starting work later today?”

You stand in the middle of Taehyung’s living room, a hand over your eyes to protect them from the bright sunlight. He’s busy piling the saucers and the cups, and you wait as he drags a vocal in thought.

“No, no. I’m off today.” He stands, and you automatically walk the short distance to the kitchen, lingering at the door frame. “Need the afternoon for an appointment at the doc. So yeah.”

“Oh. Everything okay?”

He doesn’t speak yet, dishes in the wash basin too loud. They clink and rattle; the moment you’ll move to an apartment by yourself, you’ll have to wash them yourself, too.

Maybe you can make your place as aesthetically pleasing and beige as Taehyung did. You don’t know — you couldn’t imagine much today nor discuss further details about the contract and rent and general house rules.

The landlord bailed on you last second. And Taehyung sacrificed over an hour that he could’ve spent keeping Eun company between her morning lessons.

You apologised the second you entered his apartment instead, thankful for the invitation to tea, yet harbouring guilt for wasting his time. But Taehyung proved incredibly kind, waving off your concerns immediately.

He asked, playfully offended, “So you’re saying a tea party with me is a waste of time?” And then he laughed, immediately shaking his head, “Nah. It’s fine. Am glad someone finally prefers tea over coffee, too.”

So now you’re here.

“Yeah, just a check up,” Taehyung answers, “vamps drew my blood and will tell me today if it’s good or not.”

“Interesting way to refer to doctors,” you admit, backing away when he leads you to the exit. You need to be at work in forty minutes tops. “Good then.”

He hands you your blazer, silent for a moment before he says, “Talking about feeling unwell.” You look up, arm halfway through the blazer’s sleeve. “What were you doing getting shitfaced like that?”

“Uhm…”

Word travels fast. Your cheeks heat up, fingers curling into fists. You smack your lips, letting out a tiny laugh, and ask, “Eun told you, huh?”

“Mhm. Scolded her for taking you to the bar and leaving you alone.”

You sigh.

You should’ve guessed that she’d tattle. And of course you might appear like the helpless, heartbroken girl, seeking comfort in alcohol, dark clubs and blue neon lights. It’s a little embarrassing, actually.

“Kook was there, though,” you defend.

“I know. I called when he was still at your place.”

Huh? What else did he do when you were asleep? Painted a Louvre-ripe masterpiece, probably.

Taehyung decodes the dozen questions in your stare, tumbling until his back leans against the wall. He explains, “We just talked for a sec. He sounded worried, so I didn’t prod too much. Just don’t do these things anymore, okay?”

Huh…

You can imagine it well. Partly because you remember the way he looked at you that night: distressed beyond belief, giving you soft orders, insisting on help everywhere — the car, the shower, the bed.

But also because you know him.

And you don’t think you needed to see him in those very moments to know he must’ve brushed through his silky hair. Must’ve looked through your room, gaze stopping over your sleeping figure.

Voice strained on the phone, yawning, shaking his head because he must have been a little mad at you, but comforted that you were resting, too.

You remember the tone of his voice, soft as a piano tune but saddened nonetheless.

”What did you drink? You’re… in such a bad state.”

You shake the words off. God, he was there for you more than you’ll ever know.

You say, “That’s nice, though, Tae… I didn’t think you’d ever get so worried about me.”

“Hey. You’re still my friend,” he promises.

He’s possibly been the only person throughout this entire ordeal to not be pissed at you or annoyed by you. You never doubted that he still liked you.

“I might not know you inside out like Eun or Jungkook do, but you’re part of this group. So naturally, you’re important, too.”

You push your hands into the pockets of the blazer, gripping the car keys inside. Bashfully, you smile. His sincerity pumps warmth through you; it’s crazy how good belonging somewhere, to someone, can actually feel.

It’s refreshing. New.

“Wow,” you murmur, shuffling your feet, “thank you.”

“You’re glowing, you know. That’s nice.”

“Am I?”

He nods. “I can’t wait to see him glow either. A couple weeks were a couple too long.”

Those couple weeks felt like someone ripped out the hands of time, keeping them from moving. Your brain aged faster in that time, deep in a bottomless abyss. You don’t want to experience it again.

And you don’t want to imagine Jungkook in the same pit again. Looking for you, but bumping against walls, painted with his past that made him stumble back instead of pulling him forwards.

Your eyes trail down the hallway, looking at the small paintings and decorations on the wall. You take in the furniture, inhale the pleasant colours. Imagine his living room in its entirety, the sunlight seeping through the windows. Curtains pushed aside.

Your apartment could be like this, too.

But.

“Tae,” you begin. You wrap your fingers around your rattling car key; lick your lips. “Do you think I’d like it here?”

“Hmmm,” he voices, gazing down as if he could look past the parquet floor and to where your potential apartment stands nearly empty. “Yeah. I mean, I like to think so, because I’m very happy here.”

He stops abruptly, the tone of the last syllable not matching a sentence’s end. You wait as he smiles a little, creating a thought, “But you could be happy somewhere else, too. Happier even.”

His words hang in the air, a sense of both possibility and uncertainty tangible. You were wanting to venture into this new chapter of your life with hope, but also with trepidation.

Suburban areas are nice, but you opted for the heart of the city — the vibrant tapestry of dreams and opportunities. You didn’t expect the journey to be fraught with sudden doubts.

The best thing, however, is that doubts and dilemmas never seemed this… tempting.

You tell him, “There’s always a place that makes people happier, for everyone.”

“Yeah,” he said, voice tinged with wisdom. “Only, some people already know of it, and some keep searching for it.”

“And I am—”

You pause, anticipating for him to finish the sentence; he responds, “You gotta know.” There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, support and acknowledgment hiding right behind — matching his words, “I’d be bummed if you didn’t become my neighbour, but. Also just happy you guys are happy.”

Too kind for this world.

In your endearment, you laugh, suddenly stepping forward for a brief, thankful hug. A silent gesture of gratitude for his friendship, no matter how shallow or new.

The people you surround yourself with offer endless reassurance, and you’re lacking the words to express your appreciation.

“Thank you, Tae. Eun’s right when she praises your constant respect for other people, you know?”

Taehyung, maybe a little perplexed, brings a hand to your back, patting gently as he states, “No worries. The worst is over.”

You hope so. God, you genuinely hope so.

You pull back, tucking your hair behind your ear and bid him goodbye with one last nod. Taehyung closes the door behind you with a humorous thumbs up, and you grin before it’s silent in the hallway again.

There’s a tiny window outside, overlooking the street down there and the cars flitting by. The area isn’t as peaceful as Jungkook’s — more lively and noisy. You can see the city’s river if you look far enough.

And as you step closer to the glass, you envision your own apartment again. You imagine the soft glow of the lamp before you go to sleep. The comfortable couch you want to plant in the back of the living room, curling up with work or your laptop or a cup of hot chocolate.

You picture the view of the city as you step to your open window, glancing out as the steam of your beverage swirls in the evening air. Contemplating the world outside.

But then you start rethinking Jungkook’s words, too. The idea of belonging and happiness, of domesticity and what could be.

And at last, you visualise what it’d be like if you didn’t see any of this — the lively street, the river in the distance. Wonder how you’d feel if the horizon looked different.

If you stared out and saw a different canvas instead.

The changes in your life are drastic in some way, but Jungkook always stays the same.

Your house lies quiet most of the time; as days pass, you frequent your room, then drop by in the living room, greeting the staff, grabbing dinner and retracting back to your beloved bed.

Jungkook’s apartment, baby-sized compared to your place, allows a much livelier atmosphere. Maybe because you don’t need to yell for him to hear you from another room. Or maybe because it’s just the two of you.

Perhaps even because you find solace in the couch, in the smaller smart TV in front of it, the glass table, the carpet, the homely furniture in general. The scent reminds you of wood, but you connect it with him, too.

It’s different from the room you grew up in. Different from the luxurious chimney and marble you’ve seen all your life. And you must admit that you enjoy it a lot more, too.

One of the few reasons why your mood changes from exhausted to merry the moment you knock at his door on Thursday. He was expecting you, because when he opens, he beckons you inside immediately, pulling you in and planting a generous kiss on your cheek.

A smooching sound accompanies it, his foot closing the door as he suggests, “Dinner first or TV?”

“Shoes.” You laugh. You slip out of your thin jacket before tackling your snickers quickly, your clothes suddenly itchy and uncomfortable. “Shoes first, and then shower? Can I?”

“Yeah, of course.”

It’s not the first time that you’d be doing it. But there’s still something new and pure about this new chapter of your life; one that comes with polite questions and reinventing reality, apparently.

Redrafting life as you knew it and striving towards something better.

“I knew it, actually,” he says, forefinger wiggling, “I put a fresh towel on the washing machine. Also had a handful of your shirts here, so there’s one of those on the towel, too. And my joggers… Sorry, you left none of those, uhm—”

He’s started walking ahead, scratching behind his ear, but when he notices you not following, he looks over his shoulder. Blinks at you, staring into his living room and back, innocent voice unsure, “Come?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just— you didn’t have t—”

“I know,” he interrupts, breathing a sigh in faux frustration, “I know I never have to. But I figured you’d wanna shower.”

“…Thank you, Kook.”

You wish you could say more; express your gratitude the way you want to. At least your body is jubilating, craving the hot steam of the shower. Starving further for some peace when you step into the bathroom and detect the neatly placed clothing.

Jungkook halts at the door, gripping its frame, a little shy as if you didn’t breathe each other in for the last couple of weeks and months. He’s looking at you, waiting for something, and when you raise an eyebrow in curiosity, he snaps out of whatever daydream he was in.

“Oh. Right,” he mumbles, cheeks flushed, “sorry. I’ll leave. Can heat up the food. Or, or do you wanna order in?”

“Anything’s fine.” He nods. Opts to walk away, big hand flattening his hair at the back. It takes a moment for your heart to riot as you watch him leave, immediately babbling, “Actually. I was—”

Returning within a moment, he looks alarmed. Less so when you point a thumb to the shower and suggest, “Do you wanna join?”

“You in the shower?”

No, doofus. Join to watch the washing machine unsoil your sweaty clothes.

You clear your throat. “Yeah?”

“I uhm… Is that okay?”

Goddamn. Redrafting life as you knew it, you said.

You just didn’t expect the two of you to still tip-toe around each other. Seems you still have a lot of adjusting to do.

You try to break the ice.

“Acting like I’ve never seen you naked.”

“No, I know,” he responds, “I was just thinking that you…”

You can’t quite decrypt what he’s trying to say, but you do perceive the flash of concern in his eyes. It’s a tiny glimpse, barely there; but you see it. And you think about it.

Try to understand, let moments pass — until you’ve grasped his thinking.

The night he helped you clean up was the last time you stood under a showerhead together; maybe he thinks you’re still connecting it to the night’s trauma or borderline dangerous intoxication. And perhaps you’re wrong.

But you still take a breath, and then segue, “Already took a shower, didn’t you?”

You know he did. He’s addicted to cleanliness, sensitive to scents; he hoards diffusers, skin care products and new underwear like a treasure. And showering is always the first thing he goes for, a beeline to the bathroom after work out sessions and intense summer days.

You follow up with, “It’s okay, if you did. I’ll just go alone and hurry to dinner, then?”

“No, no… No, it’s fine.” He starts his sentence fast, but slows down halfway through, awkwardly. “Of course I can join. What’s some extra refreshment, right?”

“That’s the reason, huh?” you mock, laughing when he shrugs his shoulder. “Keep acting like you’re not the biggest simp around.”

Your confidence boosts his own, too. The signature smile is soft, lips curved gorgeously, but the subtone of his words is teasing, and even a little cocky.

“Of course. I know, I know.”

“Come then.”

You offer a stretched hand, curling your fingers in and outwards, and he places his warm palm into it like a key to a lock. Albeit tense and nervous, your body feels good next to his. The telltale awkward signs of a new relationship don’t deter you from indulging in its sweetness.

So you’re not surprised at how quickly you undress, throwing each other’s clothes at the back of the washing machine and planting kisses whenever one of you bares their shoulder. Eyeing each other from bottom to top.

You think you ogle for a moment too long, though — and how could you not with the freaking silver chain dangling from his neck?

An exciting evening lies ahead, you can already tell.

It’s fresher now outside, and all of Jungkook’s windows are open. Despite the cosiness of the bathroom, you rush under the hot shower stream.

Only, it’s not as boiling as you’d like it to be. Jungkook starts and finishes his showers ice cold, so you screech when you meet water from the Antarctic. You jump on your spot, arms around your torso.

And when you allow yourself one single glance at him amidst the breathlessness, you notice that the asshole is doing it on purpose. Same old. Rouses core memories.

Jungkook wipes over your hair and your face, drenching them thoroughly. You only realise he’s smudged your mascara when he starts rubbing underneath your eyes gently, managing to get some of it off.

“Fuck,” you curse, “I forgot about that. Should I take it off first?”

The intention is to slip out, use one of his cleansing skin products and get the mess out of your face before stepping back to him. But you don’t make it far anyway; he yanks you back before your foot can even touch the mat.

And then, the moment passes in a blur.

Tense body back against his, he tugs you close. Holds both your wrists in front of your breasts, leaning in without a warning, and then — connects his dripping lips with yours.

If there was any space to gasp, you would. Instead, your fingers instantly dig into your hand, sharp nails scarring the skin. You move your fists, trying to touch him, but he holds you in place firmly.

That is, until his digits relax, trailing up your shoulder to your neck, jaw and then to your cheeks. Face in your grip, you let him control the pace. You find an anchor in his bicep, holding on; kissing isn’t enough.

You wish he could eat you up. Wish the tongue finally touching yours, swirling around it, was everywhere on your skin at once.

You feel a slight twitch underneath, right against your body; ready to devour, hopefully soon to explode. But Jungkook gasps for air when his lungs give out, allowing a break, backing away with your face still between his hands.

And then, he utters something surprising — something you didn’t expect in the heat of the moment at all.

“I was meaning to tell you something.”

“…Oh?”

“I’m uh. I’ve been meaning to tell you for days. I just never quite got around to it and we were so busy and tired all the time and—”

“What is it?” you break in, heart pounding at an unnatural speed. “I’m here now, so…?”

For a second, you expect this to take a whole different turn.

The database in your brain empties the moment you scour it for an answer, preparing yourself for molten knees and dissolving hearts. Or maybe, it’s already clarifying to liquid, jumping out of your chest and flowing down the drain along with the water.

But he doesn’t say what you anticipate. Though, what he does admit has your nerves glowing neon white anyway.

“So— the first night of my showcase. On my birthday?” he starts. You feel the muscles of your face change, and he sees it, immediately assuring, “No, no. Don’t worry. I was just gonna say that a guy came to me by the end of it? And—”

He lets all of it sound like an unsure question. But you think you know where it’s going — you hold your breath under the already suffocating water.

“And?” you prod.

“And turned out Namjoon invited him, and he’s kiiiinda a big shot in the art business? Like, he’s a gallery collector, he said. He’d invest in my art and acquire it and have it showcased in bigger museums for more recogni— I know!”

Your mouth and eyes opened halfway through his quick explanation, fingers back in fists, pressing against his solid chest and then moving up to hook in his silver chain. You’re restless in the congested space, suppressing the high pitched sounds.

He puts his hands on your hips, snickering in joy as he says, “Be careful before you slip.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Thankfully I’m not, angel,” he shakes his head, bangs sticking to his forehead, “not this time, at least.”

You raise a hand to his pec, tapping against it, “Wait. So just so I understood correctly — they’re gonna put up your stuff there for an even bigger audience to see, yeah?”

“I mean, the gallery is definitely far bigger than the exhibition I participated in.”

“Oh my god, Jungkook, the exhibition already had a shit ton of visitors!”

He nods, proving a point.

You feel an electric current in your blood. Pride, that’s what it’s called, too. You sling your arms around his neck recklessly, nearly falling, but you can’t be bothered as you exclaim, “This is so— I don’t even know how to react, Kook!”

And who could convince a big-shot art connoisseur so quickly after graduation anyway? Jungkook’s god given talents are never praised for nothing — you knew it. Fucking knew it.

Won’t make it anywhere, your ass.

“That’s so fucking awesome.” You stare, out of breath all of a sudden. God, if there was a way to express your delight. “When is it happening? Are you selling the one you showcased?”

“I don’t know yet. And no. That’s too… personal to me.” You blink, nodding. Still overwhelmed with how his pieces made you feel — of course they’d hit even harder for the artist himself. “He wants something in a similar style, though. I’ll make something new for him.”

“What’s it gonna be?”

It’s a simple question. You swear it’s nothing too deep.

But Jungkook’s gaze changes. An amused, delighted expression replaces a neutral one, head tilting to the side just a little. His lips, already slightly swollen from the kiss, move up, eyes kind and sugary.

If you only knew how your small details affect him, too. How you looking at him like this, expectant eyes split wide, innocent and gentle, shoots an arrow to his heart.

You just don’t know.

He brushes the hair sticking to your cheek back and tells you, “You’ll see. I’ve been working on it these days, but. Will show it to you when it’s done.”

You can’t even be mad. If it was up to you, you’d probably wait for the big day, too — can’t spoil the surprise, need to cry tears of pride and joy in public.

So all you say, deep from the heart, is, “You’re the fucking coolest person I know.”

“Nah—”

“The coolest.”

“Funny,” he retorts, as bad at compliments as you; throws them back like a boomerang, “thought the same when I met you at the party last year.”

“…Gross.” That’s what you say. But you still shake your head; overwhelmed, smile plastered to your face and cheeks hurting. “God, Kook.”

And that’s all.

You keep holding his stare, finally too tired of the distance to endure any longer — and then lean in. You stop a couple inches away, watch his head angle more, mouth steering towards yours. The smile is mutual, fingers seeking a spot to settle on on each other’s bodies.

Your heart monitor would be wilding right now — the effect of your lips meeting clear as day behind your ribs. And this time, you don’t stop.

The push against his chest is immediate, his feet slowly tumbling backwards. His tongue burns hot against yours, your lower lip fitting perfectly in the gap between his lips. There’s a sharp hiss when his back finally touches the tiles, mouth open but not leaving yours.

Teeth soon clash, and you opt for more of his taste, well aware that you just cannot kiss more than you already are. His hands move up and down, never settling, both your lips harsh and impatient. Your tongues keep moving in patterns, thirst never quenched.

You break the kiss solely for oxygen purposes, but he uses the moment to let his palm wander from your face to your hair, grabbing a patch. One hand pushes against the small of your back, though soon dropping to your ass, fingers between your ass cheeks, teasing the clenching hole.

Fuck.

The moan isn’t intended, but very welcome — you love the sound of it as much as he does, followed by his own. An automatic reaction. His hips indulge in the tiniest movements, length jerking against your body; no more than an inch of his fingertip pushing into your ass.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you breathe, eyebrows furrowing, mewling against the corner of his lips. “More, now, please.”

It’s an attempt. Of course he won’t act that fast — you know him well enough. He’s been a soft gentleman often enough; but after holding back the past few days, missing it for weeks, you know it won't be easy on him either.

One of you will be on the brink of tears soon; until now, it’s usually been you.

You take a deep breath, agitated when he laughs. He retracts his hand, smoothing back his chaotic mane before leaning in for another peck. And that’s all it remains — interrupted immediately, saliva mixing with the shower water.

“I’m so fucking crazy for you,” he confesses; the shiver doesn’t hesitate crawling down your spine — neither does Jungkook, peppering your neck with kisses.

His actions are smooth — you let him do anything. Like, explore every little spot of your skin. From the softness of your face, down to the flesh of your ass, echoing hard when a flat hand slaps it out of nowhere.

You propel forwards, barely aware of your surroundings. The shower raining onto you is the only indicator of where you still are.

So when he turns you carefully, 180 until your back touches the tiles, you don’t realise his intentions for a moment. Only when he changes his approach, digging your shoulders hard into the wall, knocking you out of breath.

“Are you trying to—” you ask, but he interjects right away.

“Don’t question it this time, okay?” His face inches close again, teeth suddenly pulling and nibbling at your lip. “Just let us do. Lemme do, yeah?”

His chest presses against your tits before he backs away and palms your mounds, squeezing nearly painfully.

For only a heartbeat, though — he doesn’t stall further. Because another second passes before you’re turned in his grip, chest not touching his anymore, but the wall now. From behind you, he grasps your hips, dragging you back just a couple inches; enough to sneak his hand through.

“But whenever things get too much, you…”

You nod. Promise, “Will tell you. I will.”

“Good.” His cock pokes between your ass, and he spreads its cheeks. Lets the hardness rest between them, sliding up and down. “Gonna make you feel so good, though. Wanna make you feel so fucking good.”

Wow… wow, f—

Not that you were ever interested in it before, but…

Part of you wants him to shove it in anywhere. Wherever the fuck he wants. You’d endure all hour-long foreplay and pleas and tears for him.

And perhaps he’s thinking the same. Perhaps you even spoke it out loud — you wouldn’t be surprised if you did. But you choke on your spit when he says, “Missing the sex toys. Like… What do you think of new ones, hm? Someday, maybe. Like— like an anal pl—”

“Please,” you beg, “I’ll do fucking anything for you.”

Break in conversation. Then, “Holy shit.” He chuckles. Fuck — his voice is deeper now, isn’t it? “You’re being whiny. I thought you’re a badass business woman, but you’re so whiny.”

“Because— I can breathe when I work.”

“Ohh. And now,” he whispers, close to your ear, hand moving. Up and further up, stopping around your throat, as if he’s testing your statement. As if he could tell him anything about the state of your lungs. “Now we’re not as focused, right?”

“No thinking when I suck your dick.”

“Dammit. Really don’t wanna wait to fuck you numb.”

You’re shamelessly jittery, patience out the window. “Don’t then. Get to it now.”

“Nope. I know you’re not ready yet. And I’m not either… so—”

He steps closer, forcing your body further forward until your cheek is squished against the wall. His fingers leave your throat to find another target; something far more south, a lot more dangerous.

One small circle drawn around your clit, you gasp, hearing him ask, “You think you can come with just my fingers?”

“I don’t know. I honestly think I need—”

He chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, too. You’re hilarious sometimes.

“You think you’re so smart. But we can still try, though.” He says it casually, as if the two of you don’t exactly know that he’s perfectly capable of pulling through. But his voice still softens when you don’t answer, “Hey. You wanna try, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Anything,” you convince him, “anything, Kook.”

“Good girl. The best, always.”

His touch vanishes. You let out a mildly confused sound, observing with an unfocused vision how he opens the shower door a little. He reaches for the towel on the washing machine, drying his fingers, other hand moving the shower head until it’s mostly wetting his own back.

It’s a tiny detail, really. You only told him once how action around the clit might become uncomfortable with hands priorly washed or wet, and it seems he remembered.

Your eyes shut when he returns to your bundle of nerves, massaging gently, skilled. It starts slow at first; you feel the hot wetness build in and around your entrance, the line between the shower water and your arousal fading.

Jungkook’s movements, calculated and systematic, only spur your body on. He’s always known what he’s doing; has analysed and explored what you want. How you want it.

It’s true heaven to you: the way he kisses your cheek. The way he draws moans out of you, the motions around your swollen bud rhythmic. Your back and limbs tingle; you don’t know what to do with yourself.

And when you can’t stand still anymore, Jungkook orders, “Stop that. You’ll break my jaw.”

“Sorry.”

Your apology is timid, tiny; he laughs. “You cutie… you’re adorable even in moments like these.”

You throw your head against his shoulder as if to oppose him, opening your eyes, looking straight into his eyes. Your eyebrows are kissing, tension between them, mouth agape.

And he adds, “Or maybe not.”

He lifts you up a bit, dragging your body along the wall — you didn’t even notice that you slid down this much, angled, ass darting out like this. But you also don’t mind the arm that rounds your torso, just underneath your tits, keeping you steady when he takes it up a notch and—

“Oh my god,” you squeak when he pushes two fingers in. “Yes, yes, please—”

The incoherent, random requests are his favourite. Most of the time, he knows better than you what you’re pleading for. Which is why he doesn’t stop this time; probably more in the mood to please you than tease you.

From this position, he can’t reach knuckles deep, but just enough to brush the walnutty spot inside. And to your surprise, the orgasm builds up fast; the first quiver takes over your knees, but you understand that this is nothing compared to what’s to come.

You press your hands to the wall, holding onto remnants of your sanity when he kisses your neck, and along your damp shoulders. His mouth is hot against your pulse, wet hair tickling under your jaw. He bites lightly; soothes the fleeting sting with his tongue. Vampiristic.

Like a sensual massage, well thought out, pornographic.

And then he picks up on pace. Whispers, “That’s right— we got this—”

He starts pumping into you; relishes your incomprehensible curses. The thumb over your clit and the impatience of his fingers inside are a dichotomy, and you don’t know what to focus on. Which is why you stop thinking altogether.

Jungkook takes a sharp breath, quiet whistling sounds included, and then groans into your ear when you do. He keeps his motions up diligently, fingers a bit deeper with each time your ass moves back an inch.

As an aid, he shifts his arm, too, pushing forward, palm pressing against your clit now.

And when you come, you melt. Nearly collapsing, you keep moving, on edge, every spot of your body in tremor. You can barely breathe; you’ve been nestled in the heat of the shower for way too long.

He notices your tremble in an instant, encourages, “Got it. Got you. Keep going, baby, c’mon.”

The peak is blissful; you don’t want to ever fall off the edge again. Want to remain in this starry, gorgeous ache. Your eyes could stay in the back of your head; the world may keep fading. And you don’t need to know where you are.

All you know is that your voice sounds odd, high when you pant, “Don’t go away yet.”

“I’m right here. Right here, got you,” he repeats, holding you upright.

Jungkook knows — knows how to get you from lowest lows to your highest highs. Today was as pleasant as a day at work can be; but if he’s ready to do all this to you on any other, worse day, too, you might never encounter grief again.

He scatters kisses all over your jaw when you’re done — busies himself as you catch your breath, swallowing, eyes closed. Once you’ve caught yourself enough to utter fragments of sentences at least, you tell him, “Something not human about you, Jeon.”

“Oh. Are we back to surnames now?” He cackles, soothing motions along your arms. “Are we gonna shake hands, too, once we’re done? Bow and say thank you?”

You shake your head, though the stupid smile doesn’t wait to spread on your face.

“You’re dumb,” you say.

“You make me dumb.”

He drops his touch, brushing your pussy again — maybe as a test. But you’re sensitive and vulnerable, closing your legs and opening your mouth in response. He’s sly; uses the moment to push two fingers in right away, pressing your tongue down.

And you, as challenge-accepting as ever, start sucking, tasting some of yourself. You wrap your hand around his, moving your head, chest still heaving from the exhaustion. Your eyes close slowly enough for him to see them roll back, a reaction to the images your brain creates.

Like, the thought of the member currently poking you replacing those digits. The prospect of emptying him entirely.

“Fuuuuck— wish my brain could take a picture of this and save it forever,” he says, voice strained.

You open your mouth, licking a strip along his finger, past the tattoo. “What’d you do with it?”

“Would… would bring it to the forefront of my mind,” Jungkook begins, reclaiming his hand and dragging it down to your waist, “and use it whenever you’re away.”

“Hmmm… and then?”

“Would just…”

He doesn’t continue. Only shakes his head, lifting his shoulders, stance desperate and wanting; maybe he’s even a little out of his mind.

You egg him on, “Show me if you can’t say it.”

It’s a surprise that he obliges, but then again, it’s not. You always forget just how weak he is — that his heart sits right there in your palms, his body a magnet to yours.

So you’re endlessly pleased when your eyes flit down to a hand around his dick. Stroking slowly, its head hard against your pelvis. And you manage to watch a tiny second longer until the floor beckons you towards it, down to your knees.

It’s uncomfortable immediately; slick and odd. But you’re distracted by your dry tongue, thirsting, ridiculously hypnotised by the cock dangling in front of you. And then his thighs… muscular and thick. You reach out to them, holding them, steering forwards.

Despite his delicate frailty, you don’t fare any better. Ready to bruise your knees like an obedient doll, eyes wide when you look up at him. You grip him softly, urging him to remove his hand, stroking in his stead.

You pass all pleasantries and hesitations, and dive in immediately — leading your mouth to the tip before wrapping your lips around it delicately. Determined, you let only a second pass, eager as you start moving right away.

Bobbing your head, you take him in as much as your gag reflex allows. He’s too big — it’s impossible to ever swallow him fully. But no matter how greedy you are, that’s it.

You don’t give into it all the way just yet.

Instead, you back away after another lick. Straighten your body, drawing in and repositioning until you can push your tits together around the stiffness.

His groan tumbles out of him broken, choked, a hand against the wall. His abs are rippling, bicep bulged, nipples tiny and perked. Dark brown. Eyes hazy.

You want to do so many fucking things to him — want to mount him. Pull his head back by his long strands. Want, need to kiss him, rub yourself on him, back and forth along his cock until his moans become uncontrolled. Sticky white cum sprayed over his tummy.

Your nails in your skin, yearning for more — that’s one of your billion thoughts.

Instead, you summarise your wants, whispering a single, simple, fucked out, “I…” You gulp down the knot. Shiver at your position, craving the hot water a little now. Then command, “Fuck my mouth.”

His eyes threaten to fall out of his head; like they always do. He knows it’s a constant reaction, too, it seems, because, “God. I’ll never get used to you saying this.”

“You better, though.”

“Right. Right…”

He caresses your face, pushes your hair back. Perhaps he’s had enough of the pace; because he soon reaches for your arms, compliant deer kicked out of his head as he forces your wrists up and crosses them against the wall.

One hand is all he needs to hold them in their place. One hand gripping them hard, disabling any movement of your arms.

You let out a strange, obscene sound, finding utter liking in this gesture.

But despite your pleasure, he still eases you into the process, the heart tattoo grazing your cheek. A touch so soft that you think he’s praising you, wordlessly and gently. Making sure you’re absolutely okay with whatever he does to you.

And you confirm it with another blink, stretching out your tongue, ready. Holding his gaze. Mesmerised and frustrated, he says, “You’ll kill me with the way you look at me.”

Jungkook fuels your confidence with vigour each time, eloquent through scorching heat, too. Because you don’t think you’ve ever smiled this self-assured before you knew him; or been certain about your power over others.

You used to be far more insecure than that, feigning ignorance and carelessness, but reevaluating your decisions every step of the way. Months ago, you could’ve never predicted such a shift in conviction towards yourself.

So it’s new to you, but invigorating at the same time, the grin you sport, the words you utter, “Killing you isn’t my intention,” when he doesn’t, you move your head towards the leaking head of his cock, awaiting destruction, “wanna make you feel more alive than ever.”

The breath tumbling out of his mouth is ragged, pinky finger twitching a tiny bit when you wrap your lips around the tip and then let it go with a plop again; like it’s a lollipop to you.

Your knees move closer to his feet, and he stretches his one hand to your shoulder, making sure you don’t get hurt on the slippery ground. But you’re far too distracted to appreciate the gesture just yet, even though you feel the faint tickling along your limbs.

“I got it,” Jungkook then says, back in charge, hands back on the protruding, thick veins.

He moves his hips forward, testing. You roll out your tongue once more, closing your eyes. Try to make more room in your mouth, despite knowing it’s a thing of impossibility. And to your chagrin, it takes only a few more seconds for you to be full already.

Taking in as much as your throat allows, you gag when you reach your limit, letting out a tiny cough, salivating. You still can’t move your arms; his fingers are like chains around your wrists.

“That enough?” he asks. “I’ll stop here, okay?”

You nod. Wait. When he doesn’t move, you start pulling back, and then push forward again immediately. Your tongue is drenched in absolute filth; the spit trails down your chin, and you wish it was his.

But that’s not the point of it all — you’re not supposed to comfortably bop your head back and forth, are you? Despite the daily softness between the two of you, you want to be used. Want all his greed.

And he knows. Asks, “What do you need?”

Of course you can’t speak. He’s aware of that; stares down at you as you breathe heavily around him, mouth stuffed to the brim. Cheeks aching from the circumference.

You moan around him, parting your lips, moving your tongue from under his dick to swirl it around it a little. You move back, tasting the liquid minimally dripping out of his slit. Fuck, you want all of it, in thick, sickening ropes, in loads and buckets.

“Won’t even back away to speak,” he teases, words contradictory, because he won’t allow you to take a break either. Shoves himself inside again; you’re embarrassed that you only manage half of his length. “The dedication is hotter than it should be—”

Full, coherent sentences. How?

But even his string of thought breaks when he starts in earnest. Filling up your mouth once more, as much as he can and then a bit more for good measure. You adjust to his movements, suck down immediately.

You don’t care about the loss of voice later; you want to eat him up entirely.

His strokes grow harder by the second, rock hard inside you. You move your head until the head pokes against the inside of your cheek, and the tight wetness affects him, his knees buckling by one single inch.

“Easy…” he whispers, shaking his head, water drops landing on your face. “Fuck. Wanna have you hanging off the bed one day. Wanna see my cock ram your throat…”

Easy, he said. He’s definitely not being easy on you, though. Not with these admissions. Not with his motions.

The thrusts aren’t just hard, but deliberate and controlled, too. Your head keeps pushing back, lightly touching the wall. You’re far over sucking his dick, way too obedient and submissive to define it like that.

No, you’re being fucked. Gagging and choking around him, sucking in the spit whenever only his tip remains inside, sounds lewd and specific. Coming from the back of your throat, wet, hot and bothered.

God, you wish you were strong enough to take him all the way down to the base, licking at his balls, feeling his twitching dick thumping at the very far back. But you guess this is more than enough for him, too.

Because he holds your wrists harder, a rope around them, digging into your skin. The free hand wipes your hair away again, your body sweat-soaked while the shower water still trickles down his back.

He holds you there; then reaches for your nipple; pinches it hard over your heavily heaving chest, pleased when you open your eyes and look up at him. Waterline damp — the dangling chain might just be one of the reasons for that.

“Bit more,” he mumbles, and you think he’ll surrender right there, inside your mouth.

Which is why you sit up straighter, more determined, licking at the underside of his cock when he drags it out a little. His balls hang in your face and you reach for them, tongueing, hungry, not wanting him to move away now.

He doesn’t. Not yet. Relief courses through you, swallowing around his thickness again. Rolling your eyes back, hearing subtle “Doing well, so well, angel”s, ignoring the pain in your arms as he holds them upright.

You hollow your cheeks when he buries himself in deep, struggling when he stops right there. He doesn’t move; your eyes well up harder. All air enters and escapes through your nose, and you’re shaking, holding his stare as he keeps his cock in place, absolutely still.

That is, until you can barely breathe anymore, nails digging into your palms, arms trying to escape. He doesn’t say a word yet, only lets your hands drop. Your shoulders crack a bit, and you shake your arms, filling up your lungs, your palms next to his feet.

His cock is covered in your spit when you look again; your gaping mouth and chin similarly drenched.

And only when your head stops spinning, does he hold his hands towards you, urging you to take them as he says, “Sorry, baby. You did so well, I…”

You grip his fingers feebly, getting up on weak knees. Instead of holding onto your hands, he soon wraps an arm around your body, pulling you up before he asks, “Less next time?”

“No,” the word comes out as a squeak, throat already affected, “I’ll always tap if I feel it’s too much. I promi— promise.”

“Good,” he praises, a kiss to your damp forehead. He turns the water off. “That’s all I want, baby. Look at me.”

You’re already exhausted, staring down, fatigue fuelled by the hot water. Your eyes flutter open as you meet his gaze, and he puts a hand to your cheek, thumb on your swollen lower lip.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he compliments; his hand must be heating up under your touch, “did you know? So sweet and stunning. It makes me sick.”

“Thought I was the only one. You…” He looks at you, and you hold him tight, smiling about your joke in advance. “You have such an effect on me, it makes me wanna throw up.”

Right. So in love, it makes your stomach turn.

“Please don’t,” he pleads, conjuring a tender eye smile. The wide grin is unreal. “And let’s get out of here. We can’t keep standing here.”

“Waste of water.”

“Yes, waste of water. That, too. And I should have some lube in the bedroom.”

Of course he’s as impatient as you — although you’re almost a hundred percent sure you could do without that stuff easily. The insides of your thighs are slippery, and you’re certain the shower wasn’t the sole reason for that.

Your legs feel weird, your body heavy when you finally get out. The cosy bathroom is filled with steam and heat, but at least you can breathe easier here than under the piping hot water.

The mirror is fogged up; you glance into it to check your state, but recognise nothing but your vague form. You wipe a stripe the size of your hand along it as you walk past, halting at the door. And when you look back, Jungkook is making quick, brief work on picking up the clothes you haphazardly threw to the side before.

“You don’t wanna do this later?” you ask, still fond.

It’s just him cleaning up the floor, but… you enjoy watching him do mundane things. You might never be able to explain why, but you do.

“Just throwing them into the washing machine. Will turn it on later,” he answers.

He straightens his body with a sigh when he’s done, sniffling as he usually does. His eyes are hidden behind his long hair, so he lifts both his hands to brush the soaked tresses back. The muscles of his arms are mountainous and firm. Tattoos ending at his shoulder.

He’s indescribably pretty like that. Looking up, lips parted, jaw chiselled.

You observe him for a bit longer, gaze trailing down his body. Small nipples, broad and sculpted pecs, six painfully visible rectangles of abs. Cock still mostly awake.

Fuck.

Crossing your legs, you bite your lips, one hand on the door handle. You take in the domesticity. The moment might be subtle and casual, but something about it is incredibly homely.

How you speak to each other, and how his washing machine is cleaning both your clothes. It’s the little things, isn’t it?

Your eyes are fond when you say, “Whenever it does happen… I can already imagine all of it clearly.”

“Hm?” He blinks at you. “All of what, baby?”

“Of being here with you. All the time.” His motions stop. He drops his arms, a strand falling back into his face, but he doesn’t care. Glances at you for a couple seconds until you smile and nod towards the door. “Let’s go.”

But it seems he changed his mind in this split second that you turn to the exit.

Because all of a sudden, just as he did before, he tugs you back. And just like before, you land against the wall, having him staring at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time. His voice is a whisper, enchanting, “Okay… you know what. Forget it.”

“Huh?”

“Fuck lube, okay?” His eyes are glued to your lips. Then to your pupils. He looks lost. “We can manage. Don’t need the bedroom… just you. Want you right now.”

“Jungko—”

You don’t anticipate it — so it draws a small moan out of you when his fingers suddenly graze between your legs, digging in for just a moment. Fingering you for a split second as you gasp — and then they disappear again.

He moves in to kiss your cheek. Just a peck first. Then his lips open against your neck, hand moving up your body and pushing your tit up. His tongue soon joins the fun, darting through his parted lips, sucking your tits hard. Biting, groaning, moaning.

“Jungkook.” You push your touch through his hair as he kisses his way further down, nibbling at your sides, and you whine, “Don’t wanna wait, Kook…”

His eyes are closed and his voice hushed, raspy and deep as he says between kisses, “I’ll be gone for a moment, baby. You’ll barely notice, I promise.”

Strange how he means distanced from your kiss, not from your body. Strange how you miss each other while in the same room, but not melted into each other.

You’re losing your mind. Throwing your head back, ruining your hair against the tiles. Eyes droopy and hazy, mind turning in various directions as you relish each touch and peck. Your body relaxes; all the weight of the world off your shoulders.

Jungkook fondles your body, caresses all of you, planting kisses on your tummy, your waist, your pelvis. Continues to tug at the flesh of your thighs with his lips. It feels like a massage, not painful but gentle. Careful as he hoists up one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder.

And then… he starts.

His tongue flashes out to your clit. Parts your folds. It’s difficult from this position, but his pointy wet muscle paints patterns over your pussy. And you reel.

Jungkook truly is an artist. Knows to make you mewl, turns your breaths laboured. You move your hips, guiding his face closer with your hand in his hair, slowly riding it. The French kisses, the brush against your thighs… he’s…

God.

“God,” you echo, “I love this, I—”

He’s feasting. Letting out alluring sounds, spurring you on, and you almost topple over the edge. But Jungkook knows what he’s doing — leaves you yearning, moving away and up to you.

When he said he’d be gone for a moment, he truly meant it.

Your lip quivers when he looks at you, ordering a soft, “You’ll come together with me.” He raises your chin. “Okay? You and I together. Always.”

Must be a hidden message. He’s not just talking about sex anymore, is he? But him and you in one bubble, separated from the world. Nothing but you, you and you.

You barely wait another second. Instead, you immediately lurch forwards, initiating a kiss beyond sinful from the start. Teeth clashing, tongues feral. For a couple seconds you breathe into each other, letting out odd noises, his hand pulling your leg back up again and pinning it against the wall.

You’re on your tippy toes when his cock teases your entrance, his lips soon on your shoulder again. Cold chain brushing your skin. He’s sucking harshly, guiding his dick inside with determination. Sheer impatience is palpable in his touch and audible in his sounds.

The head of his dick parts your folds, diving in; and you let out a moan so lustful that he grows downright desperate against your shoulder. Standing here like this is hard, too; so he puts his palms on your ass, commands—

“Jump once.”

“What?”

“Jump,” he repeats, “I’ll hold you. Want you, please.”

“Okay…” you mumble. You put your hands on his broad shoulder, readying yourself, “Okay.”

And then you do — immediately wrapping your legs around him. And he lets you fall slowly, body pressed against yours, so you’re sandwiched between him and the wall; so he can guide his hardness back to your cunt.

You drop onto it slowly, carefully. Impaling yourself on him, inch by inch penetrating your insides. The more you take in, the deeper the crease between your eyebrows. And when he’s bottomed out, you feel like… yourself again?

Because what moment is more intimate than this? What moment allows you to crawl out of your shell more than this?

Even if in a crude sense, this is yet another definition of home. And every definition can be traced back to him.

“You feeling alright?” he asks, and you nod immediately.

“Is a bit weird, but…” you hold onto him, one hand moving to his face. You don’t finish your sentence; only nod, exhaling against his lips.

“Can I start?”

Another nod; and then he starts pumping in. Slowly in and out; you’re firmly in place against the wall, slipping just a little. His hands engulf your ass again — his strength is mind-numbing, and his sounds loud as he splits you in two.

Your eyes shut for a mini moment, and when they crack open again, they’re met with the still mirror. It’s fogging up again, yet still clear enough to make out Jungkook’s back; the form of his body. Your thoughts tangle up.

You’ve seen him shirtless a million times before, fully bare — but it might be the first time you’re enjoying this very perspective. And the entirety of him… leaves you gasping. Butt naked, ass muscles flexing, the triangle shaped back smooth. Where do his guts even fit?

They’re a blessing, those reflections, catching the way he’s standing, ramming into you. And then you, burying your nails into his shoulder blades, expression fucked out, body moving up and down the wall. Having things done to you by him.

You’re so fucking lucky.

You mutter, “Kook…”

“Yes, baby.”

“You look so good… so…”

“Mmmh, you do, too,” the sentence starts in a clear tone, but morphs into a whisper, “just… can’t see enough of you… shit, babe—”

He leans in, parting your lips with his, your tongues touching as he delivers a rough jab just once. And that’s when things stop working for you.

Because soon enough, you’re swaying to the side, nearly falling; as his protective instincts kick in, immediately holding you, his cock jumps out. And he shakes his head, pecking your temple once, and then deducts, “Okay. This won’t do.”

“Hmmm,” you hum in agreement, weak on your legs, “bad idea for sure.”

“Hold up.”

He’s quick to turn you around, thoroughly in charge of your body tonight — you’re fully under his mercy. Ready to kneel and bend for him. And Jungkook, understanding your boundaries, gives you all you need — knows what to do, knows when to stop.

And you keep handing over control; more so when he pushes you over the sink, stating, “Okay. Looks easier.” A pause. “Looks so much fucking better, too.”

Wish you could see. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re tense.

He leans down to kiss your back. His dick pokes between your ass cheeks again, slipping down and further down until it makes itself home between your nether lips again.

It falls into it in one fell swoop, swiftly, as if it’s no effort at all — guess it never is.

And god, does the position feel heavenly.

Balls deep inside; the first angle that allows full unhinged, animalistic mode.

But he still starts out slow; with long strokes and a hand in your hair. You tumble backwards a little, urging him to move too, lifting your ass higher and pushing your legs together for maximal effect.

Allowing more tightness for him; more friction for you.

“I… missed fucking you so much,” he says between thrusts. “You feel unreal.”

You guess you do. He does, too. Maybe the two of you need a reminder that this is all too real; perhaps a tantalising equivalent to a wake-up-pinch.

So you suggest, “Fuck me harder, Kook.”

“Hmm… want that?”

“Been waiting so fucking long.”

And while a lover of patience and anticipation — who is he to reject your wishes after the entire ordeal occurring in this room? The two of you have dragged out this moment plenty.

So he listens fast; soon using your neck as leverage as his inked fingers wrap it smoothly. Agreeing, “It’d be my literal pleasure, babe.”

God, he’s a dumbass — but you can’t physically react. Too caught up in something else; storing the laughter and jokes for later.

Because he picks up on pace, not too much right away; but enough for his hips to slap against your ass. Enough for you to be catapulted forwards with a whine, cheek pressing to the glass.

You lift your hand, accidentally wiping again, but only manage a trail, hand sliding down. From behind, you hear a hoarse praise, “Looks so fucking hot,” he draws a sharp breath, nearly hissing, “I promise I’ll be careful, just…”

He pulls at your hair. Shoves his cock inside rougher, face closer to you, lips to your cheek. Swallows hard enough for you to hear, and then, “Tell me if it’s too much. Am careful until I can’t be, baby.”

Until he loses control. He says it right before he drops all inhibitions and — goes feral.

You squint your eyes shut, calling out his name; the word echoes in the small room, and for just a second, you worry the neighbours might hear. And then right away, you stop caring again.

Because you want this man. Now and later and forever; want him like this, want him in any way. This isn’t just sex to you — if that’s what you wanted, you’d download an app like your freshman self used to.

No.

No matter how obscene, there’s meaning in every one of your touches; in every stroke, in every word, in every single time you lose yourself in him.

Your stomach twists as he jackhammers into you; you’re craving proximity, craving all his attention. Want all of his emotions and touches raw and merciless. Want to see him.

Although, when your shut eyes open, you only see blurry forms in the mirror moving, him behind you. He squeezes your neck; you see that much before he slides it down your body, straight to your clit, no detours.

He pushes his knee up for a second, touching the edge of the sink and balancing on one leg, but drops it again soon. The white painted, stainless steel of the sink, previously cold on your tummy, burns against your skin now. A chafing feeling.

Jungkook draws more forms against your clit, but then retracts his hand; instead, squishing your tits, indecisive where to touch. But it’s the last move he makes before he straightens his body, palms on your ass until he spanks just once and…

Pulls out again.

What?

“Look at me, sweetheart,” you register.

You pant, fingers clutching the sink and gulping down the tiredness before you manage a turn. Your eyes land on his dick first; it’s fully drenched in your arousal, so unbreakably stiff.

He whispers again, “Look at me,” but the moment you do, he doesn’t withhold your stare for too long. Instead, his hands are back on your cheeks, drawing you close, seeking your lips. His never-satisfied thirst matches yours; you want to remain here and freeze time.

With your arms around his neck, he guides you towards the washing machine, pushing the clothes further aside. He helps you get on it, but you argue immediately, “This could be dangerous, right? Shouldn’t sit here, I think… might break…”

“It’ll be okay,” he says, making himself comfortable between your legs, pushing them apart with his thighs. Two fingers hold your chin, lips ghosting over yours. “Is a cheap ass thing… want a new one anyway.”

You wonder if he’ll say that about all the furniture he’ll fuck you on. Because observing his eyes, you know that he will — will soil every inch of his apartment within, what you anticipate, a short period of time.

But unfortunately for the washing machine, you’re too weak to reject the offer.

So you hold him tight, jostling him closer to you as you ask, “Yeah?”

“Mhmmmm.” The word drowns in your moan when his cock glides back in; when will you ever get used to this? “Don’t worry… won’t break as badly as we will.”

Well, fuck.

The ridges of his cock drag just right along your walls, the angle making your mouth water. Your cunt is burning; and he still dares to ask, “Okay like that?”

“More than okay, Kook… more than—”

He always screws you numb; barely ever lets you finish your sentences. Your moans have become a constant interruption, along with the goddamn things he says, “Your pussy is so good. So, so good.”

And then he’s back making out with you, sweatier than before. His body is enticingly warm, muscles working on you. Both his and your hair sticks to the nape of the neck or your back, and you hold onto him, keening against his lips.

Then, you lean back for a second, keyed up as fuck, propping up your body with your arms. Your palms press against the back of the machine, and he inches close to explore the bare skin of your torso. His chain skims your nipples, as if on purpose; and he kisses you here, there, everywhere.

Neck, clavicles, tits, jaw.

Perspiring without an end, all of this could be gross. But instead, you feel hyped up, sexy as never before. Dizzy at the sight of his golden skin, the small beads of sweat spreading on it.

It takes one or two more minutes of this insanity until things come to an eventual end. A glorious end, that is — filled with deep moans, squealed calls of names, unrhythmic thrusts that fasten for the finale.

“I’ll come,” Jungkook states, and you shoot back up to him, holding his head against the mounds of your tits. He kisses between them, breathing irregular, words muffled, “Gonna come so hard, what the f—”

And when he does, you lose all coherent thoughts immediately. Not that you could think before — but his uncontrolled exclaims already make you wish for a whole new round. Nevermind that your pussy is wrecked and beaten.

Vocal as ever, he finishes with deep shoves, slowing down with each second. His lips remain open between your collarbones, and you feel his eyebrows draw together. Thick strings of hot cum filling you up, your cunt tightens.

And somehow, after all this, he still finds the energy to sneak his hand between your bodies, blindly seeking your clit until he finds it. Familiar circles render you breathless, even though they’re lazy — but picking up on intensity when he leans back, still breathing hard.

He looks absolutely done — still fucking the rest of him into you. But you’re moaning and groaning, and he’s far from giving up as he says, “Come with me, baby.”

Honestly, he doesn’t need to tell you. You’re already calling and blurting out random words, already limp. Wrapping your legs around his torso with the tiny remaining energy you have left, absolutely insane.

Jungkook kisses you one last time. And you let the build up in your lower tummy and pussy proceed; up and up and up to the peak — until he delivers one last stroke, cock already softening, finger on your nub diligent and…

You milk his dick in its entirety. Your pussy clenches and unclenches. Random figures swim in your vision, flashy behind your eyelids. Limbs trembling, body a mess and fingers hooking into his chain, you only notice now that you’re repeatedly whispering his name.

Winding and crying. Trying not to tug too hard, to break the jewellery, but still urging him closer, closer.

You’re shivering, surviving the vertigo, breathing stagnant. Trying to control it. Quivering like fucking crazy, not feeling your legs.

Also hating how his cum is dripping onto the damn washing machine. In your hazy mood, you laugh a little.

It takes a bit of time for the two of you to calm down, to dim the adrenaline in your nerves. Your chests rise and fall in unison, still clutching to the embrace. His skin is flushed, yours hot, skin tingling with the lingering heat of the passed passion.

And when he finally moves back, looking at you, you see half a dozen things in there. Satisfaction and vulnerability among them. Maybe even a hint of mischievousness, proud of whatever just happened; happy with the emotions it conjured.

Stars in his eyes. Contentment, composure and affection at last.

A pleasant stillness follows, the world outside the bathroom nonexistent. The aftermath of the steamy encounter lingers until you break the silence after all.

“When the hell,” you start, throat dry, “did you get so broad?”

“…What?”

“You just. You looked endless in the mirror. You’re so—”

Amused, he displays a grin as sly as you adore. He tsks and then mocks, “Stop drooling.”

“You first.”

His chuckle is throaty; a result of the constant exclaims and the absolute dehydration. You give the two of you a moment to collect saliva on your tongue, to swallow and wet your cords.

Your fingers paint an invisible, light pattern on his skin; tracing his tattoos is one of your favourite things to do. You jest, “That’s a good way to destress.”

He arches an eyebrow, then rolls his eyes — but the devotion towards you behind the gesture is irrefutable. It carries into his words, no matter how playfully mocking his tone or his sighs, “Everything for the princess.”

“So,” you pause, lips curling into a soft smile. “Is this what I’m gonna be getting for the rest of my life?”

You see it immediately. The explosion in his eyes; the burst of stars in the depths of his pupils. Clear as the night sky, fond and sweet and magical. Guess you spoke big words for sure.

“…The rest of your life, huh?” he asks.

“No?”

“Is that what you want?”

Ever-the-boomerang, you gauge his reaction, closing the distance between you. Lips barely apart, you throw back again, “Don’t you?”

You don’t need to glance through his ribs, lungs, blood and skin; you see the swelling around his heart. Emotions swimming in it in abundance. You see all of it right in his eyes.

And his voice proves it; delicate and quiet, “Baby… you make my heart drop to my stomach all the time. Do I not look at you like I want a rest of my life with you?”

Gosh. You’re too weak for this.

“Look at me like that more often,” you answer, breathing against him, eyes dancing with delight, “maybe I’ll believe you then.”

“Huh,” he makes, letting out an entertained huff, “brat. Maybe later. Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed for now, alright?”

Right. You forgot you’re still here. Snapping back into reality is always a task.

Of course it is.

Because your world is a cocoon; you don’t want to leave it just yet. And maybe, somewhere in the near future — you won’t have to anyway.

Jungkook and you don’t waste minutes doing formalities tonight. No flickering candle flames; no organised set up of your table. You dim the lights, snatching a lamp from his bedroom and rely on it along with the TV’s brightness.

You filled your plates and stomachs with a dish he’s wanted to show you for a while. It’s some special Jeon recipe — limited to him specifically, not his family. The brief cut in your relationship kept you from the meal, but watching him fiddle with the pots and cutlery was worth the wait after all.

He’s still proud of it; you’re filled to the brim, sick to the core, but the noodle-Buldak-mayo-perilla-oil-combination introduced the night just perfectly.

Your body is limp against his after dinner, bloated. A mutual agreement concluded that watching a movie might be the easiest activity you could indulge in to further destress. So you cuddle up, eyes droopy as you wait for the Netflix logo and thump to subside.

You let the username float by, though unable to suppress your giggle. Your back shakes against him, his hand halting mid-air, remote control in it, and you comment, “Letjungcook7. You’re such a dork.”

“Why?” You look back, met with raised eyebrows and round eyes. “Do you not like it?”

“I love it. Don’t you ever dare change it.”

He tuts, trademark smirk tilted; responds, “And don’t you ever change your Sunny Baudelaire icon.”

“God, she’s an iconic baby,” you groan, enthusiastic; your hands gesture to the TV, Baudelaires nowhere in sight, “I will never shut up about this show.”

“That’s why you’re not allowed to change it. Kinda cute how much you love it.”

“Jungkook,” you tug at his unoccupied arm, placing his wrist and palm over your belly button, “would you ever rewatch it with me?”

His hand rubs gently over your shirt, and then drops until his fingers are toying with your — his — jogger’s strings. “I’m a pro at rewatching. I’m down.”

You whisper a dragged celebratory word, eyes back to the screen. He’s scrolling through the genres fast, barely inhaling the titles and summaries. And when he skips three more of the stuff you’d usually settle on, you say, “Don’t think you’ll find anything on there.”

Ironically enough, he answers, “We’ve barely looked. Look. Knives Out’s second part is on there.”

“I just watched it recently. Hmm, what about that Poe movie with Christian Bale?”

On cue, he passes it three seconds later, only stopping on it for a moment before he voices, “Hmm…”

You wait. Drag out another second. Then conclude, “Okay, you’re not feeling it. Got it. Something else?”

“What about Disney?”

“What about scrolling until we fall asleep?”

The hand still busy with the strings moves up to your sides, pinching you lightly. You flinch, hard enough to nearly break his nose, overdramatic by nature. Amidst your commotion, you hear him say, “Don’t mock me. I’ll kick you from the couch.”

“I’ll just stay on the floor then.”

“Angel, I swear.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.”

But you’re not.

Because the bicker continues for another ten minutes, remote control snatched every now and then, ideas suggested and immediately rejected.

Jungkook admits his guilty pleasures merely a couple minutes later, and you conjure all your patience and discourse abilities to explain why you can’t watch The Notebook or Titanic anymore.

But once Dion’s soprano voice builds a nest in a lobe of your brain, you give in, half laughing, half agitated as you tackle the 90s classic — only for Jungkook to click out again.

“It’s no fun when we’re not both ready to watch it.”

“Dude…”

More scrolling, you guess.

Five more minutes pass — and eventually, Titanic deserted, you sing the songs of Coco instead. You expect Jungkook’s attention and lips to shift halfway through the movie, tracing down your neck or along your sides – a standard for a weekday movie night.

But to your surprise, he powers through it with minimal dialogue and wide, focused eyes. Palm above your ribs, moveless under your shirt and his cheek pressed against your heartbeat, you assume he’s fallen asleep by the time the credits roll.

Until – you feel warm liquid wetting your shirt, a sniffle combining with his shaky breath before you ask with your own damp eyes, “Babe— are you crying?”

His answer is delightfully unashamed and immediate, “I’ve never watched Coco without crying.”

The soft strains of the movie’s soundtrack won’t let your eyes dry either; but Jungkook seems far more into it than you. Adoration burns hot in your veins.

“You never told me that!” you exclaim.

“Because it’s not worth telling. Should be a given — these movies are made to cry to!”

You giggle through your tears. Jungkook’s mind works in miraculous ways — non-judgemental, yet probably flashing a side-eye to those who do not partake in a sob fest during Coco or Encanto.

“I honestly love how you’re not a toxic male at all, you know?” you point out; you feel a huff against your chest.

At least he’s smiling through the brief sadness, too.

You crane your neck, not quite turning around just yet, and watch him rub his cheek clean off the tears. Not that his eyes have stopped welling up, though.

For a moment, you observe, staring at the swollen, pouty lower lip. His pupils glimmer in the TV’s light, long locks brushed back; half of them tied in a tiny ponytail.

You could overthink every detail of his face. Tell him all about his everlasting elegance. Instead, you only lower your voice, soft as you say, “You look pretty even when you cry.”

“Thank you,” he returns, though fingertips still work at the liquid, and you can’t help but laugh.

You can barely believe that’s the same confident beast who was pressing you against cool tiles just an hour ago. The stark contrast baffles you.

You’re amused when you question, “It really affects you so much?”

“Everything about it!” he immediately argues. You expand your eyes. “The way Coco looks at Miguel at the end. And that freaking moment when she meets her parents at the end. Does it not affect you?”

“Oh, of course it does,” you defend, “I’m a story girl. I’ll cry reading and watching these things, for sure.”

“And then the lyrics,” he continues, in his element a hundred percent, “the thought of remembering someone even after they’re gone and far away…”

The further his sentence progresses, the more the words blur. His voice is feeble, hoarse when he gets to the final syllables. When he pauses between his rambling to draw a breath, you hear a heartbreaking shake in his inhale.

And the exhale sounds like a quiet sob.

You turn back immediately, pressing onto the pause button, remote control still in his hand. The credits darken the room as opposed to the movie’s colours before. You see a damp trail along his cheek, eyelashes wet.

Your smile vanishes as you stare a little longer. The blanket falls from your chest into your lap when you lift your arm from under it, hastily drying his tears with your thumbs. Just slightly, he leans into the touch, but his face soon falls, an attempt to hide.

You ask, “What’s wrong?”

Jungkook isn’t embarrassed of tears — you figured this out without him admitting it to you. But he’s embarrassed of the guilt he feels; acknowledging it when he speaks.

“It’d just be nice,” hands holding his face drop; you touch his chest, “to make up with the family like this. They made it look easy.”

You keep looking. Bewildered, unable to answer for seconds too long. You blink until the words sink in properly, incapable of more than, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“No, no,” he argues, shaking his head, “I mean. Who am I to tell you something like this?”

“It’s okay. Your worries are legit worries, too. Look at me,” you reassure, prompting him to meet your gaze. “You’re not a bad person. Okay? It’s… so terrible that you think you are.”

“I fucked up.”

It dawns on you once more that he firmly believes that; causes a searing sting. The process is neither a smooth nor a quick one — you know it’ll take a while for him to convince him otherwise. To drop his current beliefs about himself.

“You didn’t,” you refute, firm certainty and conviction in your voice. “That’s not how a fuck-up is defined, I promise you. And those who are actually wrong probably know, too.”

“It’d just be nice,” he starts again; the shrug of his one shoulder doesn’t distract you from the misery and self-loathing in his eyes, “if he called at least.”

“I know. I don’t know, I… do you think you could call instead?”

Jungkook’s lashes brush his skin, the apples of his cheeks not as round and squishy as usual. Yet, the sadness makes him look younger, softer.

You sigh; a warm blanket isn’t enough anymore. You need to wrap him in the comfort of the world — ideally, in his father’s care.

Jungkook opens his mouth for another argument, but then holds it in, says after another moment of contemplation, “Actually… There’s a gathering coming up. I’ll see my people there, so… I don’t know. Trying won’t hurt, right?”

“It never does.”

His eyes start unfocusing. You recognise it in the way he glues his gaze to a point on the glass table, unblinking, staring nowhere in truth. You keep your attention on him for another second, hoping he’ll look at you, even if forlorn.

But when he doesn’t, you wrap your arms around him instead. His chest is calmer against your head now, breathing as soft as the palms that find your back. He presses you into his body by mere inches; you barely notice.

Your fingers draw shapes on his arm, a subtle consoling gesture. In the background, you hear the song fade, volume lower now. The movie soon transitions to something else; you don’t pay any mind to it, drowsy and distracted in his embrace.

But then your mind wanders; to the man keeping Jungkook’s thoughts hostage. You remember the conversation the two of you had last Sunday. You recall the way your hand held his broken heart together.

You wish it was as easy as a small scar — an echo of whatever once transpired, but also a reminder that it healed.

Then, for a second, you think of your own wounds. How they still need to be cured, too. How years and time alone won’t fix issues; you need to tackle them actively — maybe at some point, the two of you can.

You laugh softly against his shirt, burying between his pecs; joking, “We’re perfect for each other. Dysfunctional families and whatnot.”

His chuckle is still a light tremble, but genuine enough for you to celebrate. His hands push a little harder into your back; your body shifts up his lap, butt half on his thigh. Eyes shut, still sniffling.

Jungkook wraps around you like a soothing force, an invisible bubble. A bandage despite carrying all bruises. You sigh in contentment, head dizzy from exhaustion; waking up just when he blurts a question again.

“You really think that, right? That I’m not a bad person.”

You crack your eyes open a slit.

You understand. Someone who overthinks needs multiple repeated reassurances — you’re the same.

So you nod against him, guaranteeing, “You’re… kind of ridiculously amazing. You’re someone who gives all those people hope who don’t believe in humanity anymore.” Pause. “And I admire you in every way. So much.”

He doesn’t respond. You wait. Further dead silence, interrupted by the soft sounds of the TV. You lick your lower lip, dropping your gaze to where your thumb rubs his wrist. Tracing a vein.

His mellow voice reverberates, a melody to your eardrums when he whispers, “We’d do this so much if you were here all the time.”

“Crying in each other’s arms, huh?”

He clicks his tongue, accompanied by the grin you’re certain graces his face, even if you can’t see. You hear it in his voice all the more, “Sure. Also, have dinner together. Shower and watch movies together. Laugh and cry.”

You smile. “I still can’t believe it, you know? That you want this… and me at all.”

“You feel that, too, yeah?” Fingertips move up your spine, between your shoulder blades and then to the nape of your neck. Tickling, grazing gently. “I promise I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t truly feel all that, though.”

“What’s all that?”

“Just.” His chest rises. Then falls. “Everything.”

One of your heartbeats freezes, you’re sure. And when it comes back alive, you think — maybe he doesn’t need the world’s comfort after all. Or his father’s care. Maybe yours is enough right now.

But then again.

You’d be damned if you kept your traumas intact. Or his. You took each other as you came long ago — as vulnerable human beings, with a whole lot of baggage. With all the injuries on your heart.

Yet, this isn’t a state you want to accept. For neither of you.

Your unwavering belief remains steadfast — that one day, things need to become… okay.

So you gulp down all the pain, lighting a candle in your chest, and say,

“It’s not over yet, baby.”

Zara keeps yelling orders around. Her voice, usually collected and tender, is agitated today. You can barely imagine how many little tasks, how many stressed phone calls must be overrunning her.

You establish a distance between your device and your ear, protecting your hearing with one eye squinting shut. And when she returns to the conversation, you exhale through the nose.

“Sorry. You were asking—”

“How’s it look?” you repeat.

“I mean, everyone’s stressed,” she responds, clearly frustrated; as if it should be obvious to you. And it is; but you’ll spiral, too, if you don’t keep your calm, at least. “A lot to do.”

“You’re sure you don’t need me to come earlier?”

“All good, love. You’re not a manager yet,” she stops her speech to mumble something to another co-worker, imaginary hands jam packed with preparations for the press conference. “But when you are, you won’t know what to do with all the stress.”

“Great outlook into a potential future.”

“I just mean you should enjoy things while they last.”

Zara isn’t the only one wandering up and down the building to assure perfection. She’s only one of the big mentors, managers to handle everything; responsible for the catering and content to be presented at the conference.

Her team stands firmly behind her, but you don’t blame her for still allowing her head to steam. Of all busy people in their blazers and slacks, however, she’s been the only one to spare some time for you.

You’re grateful for her enthusiasm and support. You smile as you ask, “Do you think I can answer everything the way I intend to?”

“I think so.”

“It’s so new to me.”

“Yeah, but you’re a natural at this stuff. And also,” she speaks slower now. The chaos behind her has calmed a little; her voice echoes off somewhere. Perhaps a restroom. “Things are looking good.”

You stop sauntering through the room, pausing in front of the bed’s corner before dropping onto it. Dragging your tongue over your lower lip, you blink, and then ask, “You’re sure?”

“We had a couple conversations over here. Made a few more phone calls, and I think you don’t need to worry about a thing. We’ll come up with something if things derail, though, okay?”

You’re uncertain, still anxious. Should this afternoon flop, you’ll be screwed.

You need it to succeed. You can’t afford misfires. Ugh.

Restless, your foot taps against the floor. You try not to think of things going astray; try to think of a smooth progress, not precarious in any way.

Yet, you ask doubtfully, “Can we do that?”

“We always can. That’s business.”

Guess she’s right. Your mother has saved you one too many times — from stupid things you did as well as from things you never needed saving from.

A rich human being’s power over the media — and frankly, the world — is unbeatable. Barely to be underestimated.

“Okay,” you mutter, “thank you.”

Despite only hearing her voice, you imagine her nod, the way she often does. You miss the warm, promising palm on your shoulder. Appreciate that she’s still here instead of dropping you to the side; leaving the call to handle more relevant issues.

No, she lingers there; you hear her breathe until she asks, “Are you bringing your man, too, by the way?”

Your man.

You straighten your back in pride, bright smile back, “Yeah! He said he’d come and support me. But he’s not home yet.”

“Oh? Well, you gotta be here in three hours. Where’d he go?”

“God knows. But don’t worry about punctuality.” You hear a hum, glancing up at the clock. Past noon. “Hey, also. My parents are definitely gonna come, right?”

“Babe,” she drags the word a little, and you can almost see her side-eyeing you, “journalists will be present. Cameras everywhere. At least your mother would never miss such a thing.”

Right. Cares about that company too much.

You remember the times she proved it to you. When you’d come home from middle school, eating some extravagant lunch while watching her talk on TV. Conversing with your staff.

“Okay. Good,” you say, happy about that very answer for once.

Outside, a door creaks. Steps echo through the hallway, a soft call of your name following as you hear the jingling of keys stop.

He sounds joyful.

You get up, phone halfway off your ear as you say, “Hey, I should go. I think that he—”

And the moment you look at the open door of the bedroom, your heart stops. For a second, you fear an intruder at his apartment, but the longer you look, the more your brain gives out.

The black-white-red jacket hugs his broad shoulders comfortably, the thin white sweater underneath it nearly transparent enough to reveal his tiny nipples. But despite his stature, it’s not his body that kills the power in your head.

It’s the—

You murmur last words into the phone, making out a goodbye that doesn’t reverberate as much anymore. She’s probably out of the restroom again; too distracted to give your mumble any attention anyway.

You place your phone where you previously sat and inhale his appearance carefully.

First off — you can see his ears. Can see most of his eyes. His forehead.

His hair is still dark, but it’s tamed. The wild locks, usually a feature you’ve gotten used to over the span of that one year, lay comfortably on his head. In fact, most of them are gone.

You feel a needle in your chest, but one of the surprising sort. Not painful at all.

“Wow,” you only say.

He reaches to the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing the hair there. “Yeah?”

You move towards his body, eyes fixated on every hair strand. Then, close enough, you state the obvious, “You cut your hair.”

“I… yeah. Is it terrible?” he asks, round eyes meeting yours. He raises his hand again, to his ear this time, scratching behind it for a second. “Not used to it at all. But I figured I’d look a little more serious as an artist like this.”

Really? Most artists you knew cared the least about a fancy appearance.

Then again, Jungkook doesn’t look fancy. He just looks different. Breathtaking, more mature, older.

His cheekbones look more chiselled now, his eyes wider. You could pass out right here, right now, and he still wouldn’t know how relentlessly he affects you.

“More serious?” you ask, less because you need an explanation. More because your mind keeps wandering, and you can’t fathom a word he’s saying.

“Just. Needed a change, I think,” he admits, “and wanted to adjust to a press conference’s typical look, too.”

“You did this for the press conference?”

“I wanted to look put together.”

Your heart dissolves and dissipates. His voice is soft as a petal, tender like the colours on his arm. The expression he sports is unsure, like he wants to hide — waiting for your opinion.

He really put thought into this. Woke up this morning and set a goal with purpose, not uttering a word to you to surprise you a couple hours later.

You don’t know what to say. You barely know what to feel, except this unbearable urge to ramble down every piece of tiny emotion he’s ever made you feel.

You want his body wrapped around you, engulfed in a blanket, head on his chest and slumbering for the rest of your life. Want to mumble little confessions, shiver when his lips touch your scalp.

Overwhelmed — that’s what you are.

“I loved the long hair,” you finally admit, “I guess I got too used to it, so I need to adjust, but. But… this is so… It… it suits you.”

You’re stumbling over your words, suggesting doubt. Not the way to go. Perhaps they shouldn’t have chosen you as one of the press conference speakers after all.

Jungkook’s concern grows visible in his big, round pupils; expressive, a true glimpse into his heart. You feel bad because you’re not as good with words as he is, and because he seemed so happy about his choice.

You just can’t fucking express yourself — even though you’re melting inside, falling harder. And maybe he notices your awkwardness, because he tries again.

“You’re uh— sure you don’t hate it?”

“No! God, no. It’s different. You look amazing, Kook. You look like…”

He swallows. “Like what?”

“You’re so pretty, Jeon Jungkook.” You say it with genuinity this time. He closes his lips, blinking, and while he attempts to veil his relief, you still see the high rise of his chest. “You look fucking gorgeous, no matter what you do. I… I mean it.”

The answer satisfies him. His risen shoulders drop a little, tension falling off, and he fixes the already perfectly sitting collar of his jacket before he smiles. Just a little, a subtle twitch of the corners of his lips.

As soft as his response, “I always aim to reach your level, you know?”

You roll your eyes. Partly to keep them from watering because your heart is bursting. Splintering like every morning and every night; you wonder if you’ll ever get used to it.

A couple gentle words lie heavy on your tongue, pressing against the muscle to let them out; but at the prospect of actually uttering them, your guts twist. You don’t want to throw up before the meeting.

So you remove the tightness from your chest with a deep exhale, nearly until your lungs are dry, and say, “Shut up.”

Playfully, you deliver a soft push against his chest, laughing when his dramatic ass stumbles backwards. Submerged in those goddamn dimples, you immediately grab the hem of his jacket and before you know it, you’ve taken a step forward and landed in his arms.

You sneak your arms underneath the leather-ish material, not hesitating for a second before you’re squeezing his torso. He lets out a choked sound, groaning, but reacts similarly fast as you.

His heartbeat accelerates for a moment, right against your ear as you make yourself small. The sweater smells like his favourite detergent and him; musky, fresh. Your palms, flat against his back, crave deeper touch.

Nothing crude; just an afternoon on the bed behind you, limbs entwined, laughing about things that probably aren’t that funny anyway.

For a moment, the silence transcends words. You inject the blend of gratitude and affection through your touch, ensuring he understands.

But when it’s not a testament to your emotions enough, you speak against his chest, voice very likely muffled, “You didn’t have to do this for me… you just. You never have to do anything for me, but you still do.”

“I’ll do anything for you.”

Immediate and sincere. Voice unwavering.

God, you’re not his strongest soldier.

A smile tugs at your lips, and you chide, "Stop that."

"What?"

"If you keep saying these things," you continue, a frisky lilt in your voice, "I'll die. Do you want me to die?"

Jungkook chuckles. Always a soothing melody in a hushed room. He remarks, grip still wrapped around you securely, "Acting all innocent now."

You don’t understand right away what he means — but then you hear his heartbeat, picking up on pace again.

Makes you want to squash him harder. Melt into him further.

“Shut up, Jeon,” you respond with a nudge, cheek pressed against his shirt. Just a moment longer — just a couple more seconds to inhale the solacing scent.

Your heart is unguarded; he could sever it if he wanted to. He’s proven that he has the power to. Yet, you keep fuelling it, vulnerable in his warmth as you say, “You’ve no clue what you mean to me, Kookie.”

Your vivid imagination might be forcing things upon your mind that aren’t actually there, but you do think you perceive the way his entire body melts. Nearly limp, in a state so relaxed and peaceful that you have only experienced in the mornings before.

Waking him up for work, feeling weightless limbs wrapped around you, passed out.

His fingers trace patterns on your back lightly, stirring from bottom to top and back. They first stop at the small of your back, then lift off your body, hands suddenly on your shoulders.

He pushes you off him, your movements reluctant, and looks at you with profound sincerity. His voice matches his expression, gentle and adoring, “Will you tell me how much I mean to you?”

Amidst the delicate minutes you spend standing between the bedroom and the living room, you almost forget that there’s a world outside. It’s a little more grey than before, similar to the suit you’ll be wearing in a couple hours.

You remember the prospect of an audience, the answers you’ve prepared, to questions they probably will ask. Zara told you they wouldn’t hold back — they’d phrase their inquiries friendly, but still keep the intentions devilish.

Right.

The world is still turning out there. You want it to stop for the two of you — frozen moments. But it can’t, at least not yet. Right now it’s too real; and you guess that the worst part is that in your line of business, it will keep revolving around people like you.

Whether you want it or not.

So maybe, if it truly needs to keep spinning and can’t halt for you, keeping you in the centre, you should give it something to talk about, too.

Something crisp, something new. Without a care for it, but all the care for you and the man in front of you.

Which is why you spare him another fond smile, forehead calm and your demeanour confident — and tell him, “I’ll do my best to let you know."

The audience stretches to the far back. All the rows are filled to the brim with reporters or guests. The shutter of the cameras and the flashing lights are agitating.

You look down.

Nervously tapping your feet on the stage, you shrink into yourself inch by inch. Your seat is uncomfortable, though padded, a little too warm against your ass right now. Zara notices your tick and puts a steady hand to your knee, repeating for the millionth time today, “Stop. It’ll be okay.”

“It’s just dawning on me though, Zara.”

“What is?”

You nod faintly towards the mic and the attendees, tell her, “That I was actually chosen to speak. They shouldn’t have chosen me.”

“You asked for it.”

“Yeah, but there are more important things to discuss.”

Zara’s lips form a circle; she shakes and lowers her head, sending out a beam of air that you feel on your wrist, blazer sleeves rolled up. You’ve been like that all evening.

“You can do it,” she repeats patiently, “you’re the boss’ daughter and they want your opinion. You’ll hit them hard with yours.”

You suck in a breath, leave the air in your cheeks, and then puff it out again. “I want to. I hope to, I just— never thought it’d be this nerve-wracking. Don’t wanna say anything wrong.”

The subtle shake of her head continues — or reemerges —, lips in a thin line, eyes slowly blinking, “Mh-mh. We talked about it, okay? Practised all the questions they could ask. You’ll be good.”

“You gotta promise.”

“As much as I can, babe, it’s up to y—” She takes in your falling face, holding back with a sigh when she sees the dread in your pupils. “I promise. Of course.”

She taps your knee, softly and lightly, and then says, “I’m so curious about everyone’s reactions. Like. Gosh, just look at those people.”

You understand what she means. “I know.”

Zara places a manicured thumb on her matte red lips, mumbling, “Here for entertainment. At least a third of them will add their own fantasies to the articles they’ll write. Hypotheses and manipulative, neutrally phrased thoughts. Cockroaches.”

Funny. That’s what you call them, too. A collective understanding, you see.

But.

“Shhh,” you voice, “they—”

“It’s fine. They know it, too. Like lawyers do.”

Can’t refute. Eun told you one too many times how unfair the law business usually is, and how she’ll strive to not have anyone ever manipulate her. To remain genuine.

“Yeah, but,” you still argue, “I imagined they’d be listening in all the time. Don’t they do lip reading and stuff?”

She nods, a finger still on her mouth, smiling, “Mhm. I also feel like I could say whatever, but it’ll be you they’ll focus on today.”

Your heart drops, an uncomfortable twist in your guts adding to the stress. Might have to dash to the bathroom at the very last minute. You curse, “Shit, Zara… I should fucking ru—”

“Stay. You can do this. I promise.”

“Okay,” you take another deep breath, helping your oxygen-lacking, spinning head, “okay.”

You look back to the media present, ready to survive questions; prepared to provide answers. The moderator is talking to your mother at the front, covering the mic with a hand.

They gave you around five minutes to speak, and in that time, you need to answer everything. How you do it is up to you, but the pressure to perform in a certain way, accordingly, weighs heavily on you.

But it’s alright.

You’ll just need to stay confident. Stick to your message. They’ll have things to say anyway — and you’ll make the best of them.

You stare past the lights, squinting to find him, raking your neck. His figure towers in the back, easy to detect, and once he meets your eyes — or perhaps never having averted his from you — he lifts a hand to wave in tiny motions.

Then, he drops his fingers again, entwining them in front of his body. He isn’t necessarily allowed here, but you were able to sneak him through in advance. So now he’s a couple feet from the wall, choosing to stand rather than sit, so you find him easily.

So you seek his eyes for comfort if need be.

Before you parted near the entrance, he said, “I’ll be offering a dozen thumbs up like a fool if you need me to.”

You chuckled — but maybe he meant it. Because his smile and nod undoubtedly dispel your fears; as if he can see you struggling.

The seconds drag on, and the conference begins seven minutes later. Your mother is the first to talk, outlining a general overview of what’s to come. Of Charmante’s philosophies, of its success, praising the team.

Then, she forwards to important employees like Zara, letting them ramble about launches or ideas in depth. Business strategies, partnerships, bringing across points that you usually don’t get the chance to share.

This is legit press; even though out for a loophole, they won’t follow you around or hide in the shadows. Incessant and vexing, but at least they’re allowed here.

Conversations about new collections, store openings as well as expansions and customer engagement pass in a trice, and at some point, another coworker is uttering last words to a last question.

And you realise — that you’re next.

The moderator introduces you with pride; everyone applauds, smiling at you fondly despite all the controversies. ”Controversies.” Under quote marks, as Zara pointed out, because you never committed an offence.

You stand on weak knees. Trembling when you grip the podium. It’s like the sound in the room fades, a single peeping tone overshadowing all noise. You barely blink anymore; not even the flashy white can shut your eyes.

And god, you can hear your breathing. Your damn heart. Your nose sucks in all the air available in the room, or at least in the building, and then you open your mouth to speak.

a/n: this is not a cliffhanger!! tumblr just doesn't allow to drop looong posts anymore, so here's the rest of the chapter lol, keep reading and enjoying, i love you and will see you on the other side!! and don't forget to support this chapter, folks 🥺 <3

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts fics #jungkook scenario #jeon jungkook smut #thebtswritersclub #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook

2K notes · View notes

thisismeracing · 2 months

Text

Brand new style | CL16

― Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader ― Warnings: mentions of food; typos. ― Summary: The one where Charles' has been dressing better and better each week. Fans can't help but tie that drastic change to a girlfriend, especially when he shows up wearing clothes from a small but very stylish brand, what they don't expect is that the girlfriend in question is the owner of the brand.

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

yourusername

liked by yourbestie, istagramuser1, and others

yourusername finishing the last few touches for this season's collection ⭐️✨

view all comments

sunshinewest can’t wait to get it!! 😍

user2 I am so readyyy

switfiedirectioner I wanna be her when I grow up

⤷ 1distraction but u already grown, bestie 😭 lmao

⤷ swiftiedirectioner shut up let me dream 🤚

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, sebastianvettel, and others

charles_leclerc race week's about to start 😎

view all comments

charleslerain things that aren’t my business but I wish were: how charles takes his coffee

sainzinho the lil pink mug 🥹🤏

fastandf1s where’s that lil sweater from????

⤷ bonohammertime Its from @ yourusername s brand?

⤷ userforty it def is! Most likely from last collection if I recall perfecly, I have a similar one

trackfour Im gonna prepare myself mentally to watch ferrari shit show 😭

iguser_ the pullover collors omggg and the fabric looks so soft

yourusername

liked by gigihadid, charles_leclerc, and others

yourusername I would bet on red for this season 😜❤️

view all comments

yourbestie 😍😍 I would bet on YOU this season

user01 omg yesss! I love red!

randomuser this looks fantastic, can’t wait to see the other options

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, lewishamilton, and others

charles leclerc 😉😉

view all comments

tifosinha I refuse to believe this was Ferrari's doing, he's been on this team for years now and they NEVER got him this stylish. there's a woman's hand on this, istg

ferrarista01 the veins 🫣🤤

leclowncircus y’all worried about charles’ style and rumored relationship meanwhile I’m just no thoughts head empty appreciating those yummy pics he’s been posting

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, and others

charles_leclerc Solid climbing session today.

view all comments

notyourbus HE’S SOFT LAUNCHING

sainzfan who’s that person wearing black?

⤷ lemonegasque million dollars question

lewforty LOL he’s so bad at other sports

arthur_leclerc as a climber you’re a great driver 👍

schumiwoff I love the fact that apprently him and the girl -both- fell hahah partnes in being horrible at Snow Sports

yourusername

liked by iguser_, yourbestie, and others

yourusername nobody needs to know I fell a hundred times while climbing

view all comments

user47 it’s fine bestie, I’m terrible at anything snow related as well lol

user90 where’s that sunglass from?

⤷ yourusername its from yyy.com :)

popyn she’s soft launching, I lost her 😭

yourusername

liked by yourbestie, francisca.cgomes, and others

yourusername had an amazing dinner tonight 🥰

view all comments

randomuser33 that “private but not a secret” type of relationship I WANT IT

user9 she’s so pretty 😍😍

charles_leclerc

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, and others

charles_leclerc ma cherrie ❤️ I wouldnt have the patient to soft launch anyways

view all comments

scuderiaferrari thank goodness he's not that clumsy with car info 😅😂

yourusername you're lucky I love you 💞

pierregasly it was about time!!!!

fan44 I KNEW IT

formulaonewag welcome to the club, Yn! 🥳

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! This is part of that convo about posting my drafts hihi so yeah, here goes another one :D let me know your thoughts!

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @leclercsluv @graciewrote @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a @love4lando @woozarts @namgification @formulaal @v1naco @skepvids @khaylin27 @bernelflo @fakehappy27

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

929 notes · View notes

cheolhub · 1 year

Text

LOVE SCENE — LEE SEOKMIN ࿐

summary. you’re scared that seokmin might want to go separate ways after graduation, but he proves, in more ways than one, that he wants you. forever.

wc. 2.3k

warnings. college au. nerdy soft dom!seokmin, breeding kink xx, obscene amounts of dirty talk, pinch of angst, literal love making, unprotected sex, marriage kink, HEAVY praise, baby talk, v minimal plot im sorry — MINORS DNI 18+

note. DAMN ok i have a lot to say so i’ll keep it short. ONE this was a request but like i kinda didn’t do anything the request asked for and im so sorry, i hope u can forgive me anon. TWO i literally lost sight of the plot so dont ask me abt any missing details ehehb just enjoy seok being hot <3 THREE happy belated birthday to my minnie <3 FOUR thank u to my luvr @rkiv4d for beta-ing. yas ok enjoy

p.s. reblogs and feedback are extremely appreciated— i also love to hear ur thoughts <3

how seokmin pulled you, the most beautiful girl to ever walk the earth, he has no clue. he’s what people call a ‘nerd’ with his thick-rimmed glasses and his abnormally high IQ and you’re the pretty girl that didn’t understand the simplicity of covalent and ionic bonds who fell head over heels for him.

you couldn’t help it, he was so smart and so fucking pretty. he was awkward and he giggled when he got nervous and he was so unbelievably goofy that it had you laughing till you cried. nevertheless, he was the most beautiful man ever.

then you asked him out. he remembers it like it was yesterday. the last day of your chem class– the end of the first semester of your sophomore year– right after your final. you thanked him incessantly, giving him a hug for helping you get a B in the class. you told him you’d rather thank him another way— another way being a date. with you. at your place with a homemade dinner.

he would’ve been stupid to decline. so he didn’t. and the rest was history. seokmin became your boyfriend, grew more confident in himself, and fell in love with you.

now you’re in your final year, the last few weeks approaching quickly, and you’ve been anxious. anxious about seokmin leaving you, anxious about going separate ways after graduation, anxious that this was all just fun and games till it was time to get serious about life.

seokmin has picked up on your behavioral patterns over the past 2 years. he knows you so well, probably better than anyone else in your life– probably better than he knows himself.

so when seokmin sees you evading his eyes with his cock stretching you open, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“hey,” he whispers, stilling inside of you. when you don’t turn your head and your eyes are still closed, he calls for you. “baby?”

you feel your heart clench at the pet name. “hmm?” you hum.

“baby, do you not wanna do this anymore?” he questions worriedly, ready to pull away from you. “i can pull out.”

you mumble, “i-i do.”

he cocks his head even more confused, “talk to me, pretty, what’s going on?”

he pushes into you some more, making you gasp and you can feel his expectant eyes burning holes into your face. you then realize he’s not gonna let this go, but it’s partially your fault for letting your mind wander while he was putting away the dinner you guys ate. you decide to just come out with it.

“‘m just… so scared of graduating…” you whimper between your words, eyes screwing tighter.

he hums, “look at me, baby.” the demand comes out so soft, yet the sheer dominance of his voice makes you clench around him. you turn your head on the pillow, opening your eyes, and finally looking at him. “why?”

you shudder at the eye contact. he looks so pretty, so concerned over you, yet you’re still tense and oh-so nervous. the topic of post-grad has never come up, and now you’re mid-fuck about to tell him how you want to be with him forever.

“i-i’m scared that… that you’re gonna go off without me,” you pant, hands wrapping around his biceps and holding him to keep you stable.

“where am i gonna go, beautiful?” he whispers, bottoming out and fully sheathing himself inside of you.

you whimper again, his massive cock filling you so well. “s-scared you’re gonna go do big things ‘n leave me…”

he freezes at that, eyes widening, “leave you?” he asks incredulously as if he couldn’t believe that you’d ask that question. “baby, you think i’d leave you?”

you nod slowly. “i dunno, ‘s just that i’ve been thinking ‘n you’re so smart– gonna go get a real job that’s across the country or something…”

he’s honestly bewildered. why would you ever think something like that when he’s tried so hard to show you how much he loves you every single day?

“oh, baby, i would never fucking leave you.” he presses his forehead yours, nose rubbing against yours. “pretty fucking thing, i adore you— love you. more than anything.”

your eyes glisten with tears at the reassurance. you feel yourself relax under him, entirely fluttering at his words. “really?”

“yes, really. how can i prove it to you? want me to put a ring on your finger?” he whispers, breath fanning against your face.

you gasp, clenching around him again, fingers digging into his muscles. he smiles, chuckling airly at your reaction.

“my pretty baby wants that? you like that idea?” he asks, his sultry voice filling your ears. “you wanna be my wife?”

you nod your head, eyes fluttering shut as you moan, “yeah, w-wanna be your wife.”

your response has seokmin reeling. he pulls his hips back and slams back into you making both of you moan again.

“yeah? bet you want my kids, too.” he states boldly, mind cringing at his words and internally freaking out that you’ll get turned off at them.

you choke, clamping tightly around his length. “f-fuck.” you cry. “d-don’t say things like that, seok.”

“why? ‘cuz i’m right?” he grunts, thrusts growing faster.

you nod your head and seokmin nearly cries, cock twitching at the idea of pumping you full of cum and getting you pregnant with his kids. you’d be such a great mom and he’d love having a mini-seok running around a nice, big house fit to take a family.

admittedly, he’s been wanting to talk about his future with you. he’s been fantasizing about it since the first time he said he loved you. fantasizing about you being his wife and living together in a big house and having three kids and living happily ever after as if it were some fairytale. he’s imagined your kids and how they would be a constant reminder of his everlasting love for you. he hopes that they’ll look like both of you– kids with your eyes and his nose. he’d kill for that.

“wanna put a baby in you,” he mumbles, lips ghosting over yours. “swear to god, ‘m gonna give you everything you want– ‘ll get you a ring ‘n a house– everything. just say the word.”

you lift your head to press your lips to his, moaning into his mouth like a mad woman. your stomach drops in anticipation, suddenly craving the feeling of his warm cum filling you to the brim, sure to get you pregnant. your legs wrap around him, heels digging into his back and you can’t resist the cry that he ends up swallowing at the new angle.

seokmin pulls back, panting, “gonna let me give it to you, baby?”

“uh-huh!” you nod, eyes screwing shut and jaw going slack as his speed increases. “yes, yes, please give it to me.” your response is wavered as you nearly choke on a sob of pleasure.

and you know the decision is haste– a baby even though you still have a month left of undergrad seems… absurd to say the very least, but you don’t need to think about anything. you know seokmin. you know he’s the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. he's an amazing boyfriend and person in general. you already know he’d make an even more amazing husband and father.

who would’ve thought the nerdy man with glasses who was insanely good at chemistry would be the one you ended up with?

he lets out a guttural moan, “such a good girl, always saying please.” he praises, slamming into your sweet spot repeatedly.

and jesus fucking christ, your moans and cries are like music to his fucking ears.

his head falls into your neck, licking and sucking at your skin. “never gonna leave, i promise. gonna make you mine, gonna take care of you.” he mumbles into the skin as he continues to mark and ravage you.

the stimulation and his words are sending you into orbit as your stomach churns and tightens at the feeling of his cock rearranging your insides. his strokes are impressive, never missing a beat and unrelentingly hitting the spot that makes you crumble.

he feels you tighten around him, gummy walls squeezing him in and he curses, “shit, is my pretty girl gonna cum already?” his voice borders on condescending, but it only makes the tightrope in your stomach all the more closer to completely unraveling.

“y-yeah, so close,” you moan breathily as your pants increase, chest rising and falling rapidly. “so fuckin’ close, min, ‘m gonna cum.”

his lips find your ear and he whispers hotly against the shell, “come on, baby, cum for me so i can fill you up.” he gently tugs at your earlobe with his teeth and you can’t resist, back arching with a shiver running down your spine.

your orgasm brings you immense pleasure, white spots filling your vision as you cum with a loud sob. you feel it in your entire body, from your curled toes to your thrown back head. your eyes roll back, calling out his name and raking your nails down the skin of his arms.

he coos, holding back a groan at the way you get even tighter as you soak him in arousal. “thaaat’s it, baby, just like that. so, so good for me.” he coaxes you through your euphoric high, fucking you through it as he always does.

“s-so good,” you slur, parroting his words as your mind numbs a bit.

he moans, letting the sound of your whimpers and the lewd sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room. he buries his head in your neck again, desperately rutting into you so he can let go, too. your eyes flutter closed again and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you.

your overstimulated pussy pulses around him as you listen and whine along to your lover's muffled moans. you can tell he’s close. so close to giving you the life you’ve imagined for almost 2 years. so close to being yours forever.

“seok, cum inside me,” you whisper and his hips stutter, yet they keep moving as if they have a mind of their own. he lifts his head and looks at you– his eyes are clouded over and teary, yet they’re filled with all the love in the world.

he looks so beautiful above you. his face is scrunched up in pleasure, brows knitted, eyes droopy, mouth hung open as pretty sounds exit his loose lips.

“i… fucking love you…so much.” he says in between pants, thrusts growing sloppy. the telltale signs of his fast approaching orgasm becoming heavily apparent. “god, so much, baby, love you so much.”

you nod your head, mirroring his pleasured face. “me too, seok, i love you.” your words are a bit scrambled, but seokmin makes sense of them– understands you so well.

his eyes roll back a bit at your response, brain momentarily malfunctioning, but he comes back seconds later. “gonna take this load like a good girl, right, pretty? gonna get pregnant and let me marry you?” he moans out breathily, cock now twitching uncontrollably.

“yes, yes, yes, please, wan’ it so bad!” you beg.

it’s all he needs to press his hips to yours, stilling there, and releasing inside of you while he moans out your name so prettily. it’s a newfound feeling for both of you– his cum coating your cunt, filling you up till it’s spilling on his freshly washed sheets. he’s grown accustomed to finishing on your skin or into a condom, but this? this is all very new. this is something he now can’t live without.

you think the same thing when you feel him spraying your walls with his thick ropes of cum. it feels so good– so euphoric– while it’s leaking out of you. you don’t know how you’ve gone your entire adult life without experiencing this at least once.

“c-came so much, baby…” you whimper, feeling him pull his cock out of you.

as soon as he sees his release dripping out of you, he groans softly, already feeling hard again, but he decides to ignore it for now, bringing his attention back to you.

“hey… love,” he says softly, noticing the way you perk up a bit from your tired state just at the sound of your name. “you should’ve told me you felt like that… i hate that you thought i’d just leave you ‘cause we won’t be in school anymore.”

you frown, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward… it’s the real world and i dunno… things are different.”

he sighs, hands running up and down your naked sides. “i get it, but like i said, i wanna be with you forever.”

you blush, biting your lip to hide the wide grin that ends up on your face despite the fact. “yeah, i remember… was that a proposal by the way?” you ask meekly.

he squeezes at your waist, “did you want it to be?” he beams.

“i mean, it was a bit untraditional, definitely not how i expected my wedding proposal to be.”

“what? you mean you didn’t think you’d get proposed to while i had my dick inside you?” he asks with faux incredulity. “i, for one, thought this was the best proposal ever. i even put a lil baby in you.”

you giggle, wrapping your legs around his body again, “you don’t know that, i’m not pregnant… yet.”

his heart swells at the idea and he smiles brightly at your blushy face, “well, maybe another round can change that, hmm?”

you pull him closer to you by the strength of your legs and say, “make me yours then, seokmin.”

#seokmin smut #dk smut #dokyeom smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seokmin x reader

4K notes · View notes

twobluejeans · 9 months

Text

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 5: relevancy, part 4: emo ponytail girl, part 3: dupeee, part 2: wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 5! the drama goes on. a lot of tswift references 🫶

INSTAGRAM, july 12

liked by tchalamet, tomholland2013, and 7,456,134 others

yourinstagram. thank u amsterdam for an incredible 2 nights, had so much fun here. also thank u to alyssa and cami who allowed me to post these photos of them on here, great song choice btw💋

Comments on this post haven been limited.

INSTAGRAM, july 13

liked by kaliuchis, landonorris, and 9,555,164 others

yourinstagram you asked for it, we listened: mother and i went back into the studio specifically to record more lana on snow on the beach. love u @honeymoon. it will be a part of the new midnights (til dawn edition) deluxe album that you can preorder now at my online website (link in bio!)

as many of you know, when i released midnights 7 months ago, the original concept was fun, dreamy, n honestly a reflection of how i felt at the time. after going through a rather tragic breakup, i cannot see the album the same anymore because it isn't how i feel. it's not me. i revised the entire project during some free time between tour with some amazing people, and in a way, i'm grateful for that breakup! it inspired two, beautiful songs and an edition of the album that you will all be hearing soon. to make a long story short: my new single you’re losing me will be out midnight, 7/17!

Comments on this post have been limited.

TWITTER, july 13

INSTAGRAM, july 13

liked by charlesleclerc, lolaxcharles16, and 678,456 others

lolaransdell unapologetic

View all 234 comments

y/nslastkiss girl we can tell💀

grapejuicebluesy/n BYEEEE

verstappensainz55 girl u know what ur doing atp

selenagomezfan31 u wanna be her so bad 😭

INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 13

yourinstagram 29m

viewed by judebellingham, masonmount, and 456,782 others

yourinstagram 7m

viewed by fernandoalonso, landonorris, and 196,738 others

INSTAGRAM, july 14

liked by sweetcreaturey/n, honeymoonleclerc, and 543,123 others

lolaransdell just an appreciation post 🤍

View all 367 comments

charlidamelio i love you both so much!!

lolaleclerc16 you two are so adorable charles is so lucky

lolaransdell lolaleclerc16 i don't know ... I'm feeling like i hit the jackpot a bit more than he did :)

zenday/n lolaransdell definitely not babe 🔥🔥🔥

emmachamerlain my favorite couple i'm living for this

charlesandlolaupdates i still don't know who i wanna be more

lolaforce happy lola is my fave 🤍

daviastylessx you two are so cute 🥲 i'm glad you guys found each other especially after charles’s last relationship

lolaransdell davinastylessx i'm glad we found each other too! he makes me so happy and i try my best to do the same for him. we both have never felt love like this before

charlesforever lolaransdell ^ was that shade?

lolaransdell charlesforver no shade at all ! just being honest :)

TWITTER, july 14

ally’s radio 📻: thus the birth of the revenge era. sorry this was a short chapter, but i couldn’t leave my children starved. next one is better.

taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @pejarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife @mrsmaybank13 @black-swan-blog27

2K notes · View notes

writingstoraes · 9 months

Text

no way 📹

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reporter!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: i want to say thank you for 1.5k! thank u for all the love you guys have been giving me and my works hehe <3 i really appreciate all notes, reblogs, replies, and messages hehe much love to everyone reading this! ❤️

about: fans notice how charles loses his senses when you're interviewing him, but they don't believe he has enough courage to do something about it!

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and 563,103 others

yourusername Back in the paddock once again 🎤

norristri not charles liking this within a minute of being posted 😭😭

ferrari1655 not surprised if he has her notifs on tbh he's just as whipped for her as we are

mercmilton THE it girl of the paddock i don't make the rules!

c2champs y/n please do some content with charles and carlos i am begging

charles_leclerc ❤️

hamilnicos u a grown ass handsome man surely you can do more than just a red heart

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, estebanocon, and 431,025 others

yourusername Some paddock coverage this week 👩‍💻

chacha16 oh i just know charles is fuming y/n interviews everyone often but him 😭

sainzstappen all he had with her was one post-race interview and he was down bad already and STUTTERING lecstulips she had him giggling and shit while talking about his rear tyre failure prior to qualifying its so funny 😭

paddockgirlie Charles has once again beaten me to liking Y/N's post he is like lightning oh my god

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

chacha16 the two hearts is sending me charles im so sorry HHHDDBHFBHFBH

rbrwinners you dropped this queen 👑

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, and 540,195 others

yourusername Covering and reporting this week's race from the garage of a certain Italian racing team ❤️

Can't wait for you guys to watch the contents we had prepared!

charles_leclerc We loved having you here! ❤️

sainzbaby lose the "we" charles we all know it was just you

hamilecs ITS HAPPENING OH MY GOD CHARLES GET UP

gaslysgirlie i love how charles is just fuelling the agenda that he has a crush on y/n he's not even trying to be discreet

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly, and 302,294 others

yourusername Some outtakes from today! Had a nice time filming with charles_leclerc and carlossainz55 of Ferrari ❤️

charles_leclerc Til next time, Y/N! :)

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️ ilpredesti the smiley face oh hes so adorable

lecsmilton i just KNOW charles is having a field day rn

c2foreva we are getting more of flustered charles then 😭

44sainz we love you queen we can't wait 🙏

ynlover

liked by charles_leclerc, wagf1s, 44fan4, and 1,203 others

ynlover Charles and Carlos with Y/N today 🥰

lestappenthusiast WHY IS CHARLES HEREHFBFBHH

hamilnorris charles liked?????

loverfineline they're both winking 😭😭😭

rbrmercs now a y/n fan account is the last place i thought charles would be

YouTube, now playing: C2 Takes On 2 Challenges with Y/N!

6,372 comments

suckerforcharles: WHEN THE HELL DID CHARLES GET SO BOLD

1655sainz: holy shit i was not expecting that 😭

ricciardotauri: all yall kept saying charles had no rizz whatsoever and he decided to prove u guys wrong im crying

c2luvah: OK I TAKE IT BACK charles has got some moves in him

f1fanatic: what did y/n mean with "finally" like miss girl were u waiting too 🤭

olliefans: Carlos saying Charles is Y/N's favorite?? omg

6,501 comments

sainzmilton: I bet Carlos can't believe they're flirting right in front of his salad

lecslover: NOT Y/N FLIRTING TOO?????

luvroscoe: i'm shocked how charles didn't faint when y/n said that cause

sports55: y/n please flirt with me like that too queen 😣

6,712 comments

lewiswdc: y/n so much better than me i would have dropped dead if charles said that to me

supermaxmax: who the hell gave charles all this rizz and why was he hiding it DAMN MAN

fan2345: I am not an F1 fan but I am so invested in this I wonder if they're actually going to push through with this date 🤨

taytayrep: charles got his head in the game fr

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, pierregasly, and 1,204,582 others

charles_leclerc There really was a great restaurant downtown.

sainzznorris I CANT BREATHEEEEEE

carlandos what a lucky man y/n is so pretty 😣

scuderiazz we're glad you finally got the courage to ask her out, king!

paddock5516 ouuu those interviews with her are so gonna hit from now on

carlossainz55 You know I let you win, right?

charles_leclerc Stop ruining this for me

---------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @fdl305, @iloveyou3000morgan, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant, @ang3licho3, @pitlanebabe, @riverdalexvixens, @msliz (if anyone else wants to be a part of my taglist, pls lmk by replying or sending me a message hehe)

notes: thank u so much for reading <3

2K notes · View notes

jesi555 · 9 months

Text

tw. GEAR 5 LUFFY FUCK YEAH!!!! Fem reader, squirting, rough sex, cunnilingus, oral (f), balls in your face, rough rough asfffff tell me if I missed anything.

he’s different. He’s not the same luffy you knew. This luffy resembled your boyfriend but you knew he was different. Not just his appearance but also the way he talked, the cockiness and confidence in his voice. They way he walked, pride in his step. And the way he ate, he ate like a starved man. Ready to devour everything and anything in sight. That, being you. He starts off slow, but he’s too needy and hungry. He fought so hard and well and now all he wants is to unwind with his girl. Eating her out like she’s the last piece of meat on earth. But he doesn’t stop there, he doesn’t give you a second to process your orgasm and plunges his fingers into your cunt. Everything he’s doing makes your body shake, due to his intensity and the pleasure. He’s got you squirting in a matter of minutes and before you know it, he’s got you in such a position where he knows he has full control (not like you had any before). His thrusts are hard and deep and he’s got you crying and babbling his name like crazy.

He might be the same luffy but you know this side of your boyfriend is more likely to fuck you senseless on a daily basis. I doubt you would complain though.

You guys aaaaa luffy I love luffy, anyways the vids that I post from twt are from my own acc haha so please do support me there. I know y’all horny as shit. Also this was for my babies: @sukisukiskitty , @euphofic and @roronoaswifey <3333

꩜ 2023 all rights belong to jesi555 on tumblr. thank u so so much for reading!! reblogs are always appreciated !!

#꩜ from jesiya.#one piece smut #꩜ one piece.#꩜ luffy.#gear 5 luffy #luffy smut #luffy #luffy x reader smut #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #straw hat luffy #one piece luffy #monkey d luffy #one piece

1K notes · View notes

redbullgirly · 3 months

Text

The Dancer [FA14 smau]

Fernando Alonoso x dancer!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Few months after, everybody laughs when they remember the rumors about Fernando Alonso and Taylor Swift dating. Would they laugh though if they new it maybe wasn't so far from truth as it may seem? Well, one thing's for sure - Y/N and Fernando will laugh very much while soft launching their relationship... and confusing everyone with swiftie content thanks to her job.

Warnings: Maybe wrong dates and timeline of The Eras Tour, but whatever XD.

messages between Y/N and Fernando

fernandoalo_oficial posted on instagram

liked by alex_albon, zhouguanyu24, pierregasly and 562,109 others

fernandoalo_oficial I was taken by the view like we were in Paris... romance is not dead.

view all 4001 comments

user1 i dont think my brain can comprehend so many things all at once😨

user2 right? I'M IN SHOCK

user3 fr fernando wants to give us a heart attack😭

lilymhe I see what you did here...

alex_albon I indeed see what he did here too...😏

user4 guys tell us what he did pls I'm begging youuuu

user5 Alonso soft launching was not on my 2024 bingo card

user6 him soft launching with TAYLOR SWIFT wasn't on MY bingo card 😭

user7 How he's suddenly so hot in the first pic? Like damn sir okay🫢

user8 girlfriend effect is real y'all

georgerussell63 Mate you can't do that to me, I just woke up 😧

user8 lmfao princess georgie is as confused as we are xd

fernandoalo_oficial sorry mate, don't get wrinkles🤞

gerogerussell63 What even is that choice of emoji?

fernandoalo_oficial well, someone is original with an emoji and someone is original with a pose... choice is yours 😃

georgerussell63 Stop it's been almost a year 😭

user9 not them bullying each other💀

user10 Yeah the duo we didn't know we needed

user11 I saw the first picture and almost spat out my drink in shock of such a hot photo of Nando. Then I swiped and literally choked on it because the last think I'd ever expect from his photo dump is a soft lunch of some baddie girl🫣

user12 I am delusional for thinking Taylonso could still have a chance, aren't I?

user13 well i mean you basically answered it yourself so... yeah XD

user14 OMG WHAAAAAAT😱

user15 oh no Fernando is not single anymore💔

user16 I think I accidentally teleported into some alternative universe... what is thiiiis?

user17 REAL

user18 fuck me this man seriously used lyrics from paris by ts💀

user19 Idk why but I kinda like this new side of Fernando😻

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by taylorswift, fernandoalo_oficial, carmenmmundt and 5,234 others

tagged: taylorswift and 9 others

yourusername crazy performance, even crazier night out and the most crazy training the day after... I call that the life of a dancer😻🎉 also my head and heart did go vroom vroom after the second pic

view all 218 comments

taylorswift I call that the eras tour life!💗

yourusername yes ma'am!

user1 damn she got our queen Taylor replying to her posts... how does it feel to live my dream?!😭

yourusername amazing! 🥰

user2 such a shame my mum didn't force me to try dancing when I was little... I could have been at podium next to Taylor Swift right now 😃

liked by the author

user3 You are such a good dancer, the shows wouldn't be the same without you Y/N!

yourusername omg thank u sm I really appreciate that!!🥹

user4 sooo... are we gonna just ignore Fernando in the likes or what???

user5 THAT'S WHAT I CAME HERE TO SAY

user6 fr I need some crazy detective from twitter to figure this out😫

carmenmmundt Hey, could you give me and lilymhe vip tickets...?

yourusername I mean... everything can be done 😏 I'll just need to ask mother Taylor bc I just used my plus one at the last concert🫡

lilymhe OH MY GOD WE LOVE YOU Y/N

yourusername I love you girls as well, we have to finally meet sometimes!!!

carmenmmundt Yeah, I think we'll have chance at the end of February at the latest😉

user7 WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE

user8 Omg are they hinting Y/N at the Bahrain GP?? F1 season starts at the end of February right?!

goergerussell63 Well hello there, nice to meet you Y/N... given the fact my dear girlfriend doesn't care about me, could you give me and alex_albon vip tickets as well?😊

alex_albon Yeah Y/N we are very big fans😊

yourusername everything for the guys that go vroom vroom🫡

alex_albon Like your heart

yourusername exactly!

user9 I AM FREAKING OUT

user9 MY BRAIN HURTS FROM HOW MUCH IS GOING ON

user9 WAIT FUCK I THINK I GOT IT

user9 AAAHHH I FEEL LIKE SHERLOCK MF HOLMES

twitter & messages between Y/N and Fernando

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by selenagomez, fernandoalo_oficial, francisca.cgomes, astonmartinf1 and 8,234 others

yourusername preparing for the next season🤞

view all 1,029 comments

user1 y/n is literally living my dream life rn

georgerussell63 Oh no... he infected you with that emoji, didn't he?

yourusername we'll never know... maybe I infected HIM with it

gourgerussell63 I think higher of you and your taste in emojis

yourusername aww thanks princess georgie how sweet🥰

georgerussell63 I take it back

user2 HELLO?! what is happening💀

dancer1 excuse me little miss y/n... is that a man i'm seeing?🤨

yourusername well... maybe

dancer2 Be fr she's trying to soft launch him for like a month now😭

dancer1 okay i'm calling you rn STAY WHERE YOU ARE

user3 Guys why's nobody talking about the paddock pass in the 5th picture!!!!

user4 omg that's a PADDOCK PASS?😱

user5 yeah it is I noticed it thanks to this comment

user6 Wait... does that mean her and Fernando have been together longer? Because she already went to a race before the winter break??

user5 idk girl we don't even know for sure she's really dating him😓

user6 idgaf about who's dating her bc even without bf y/n's sooo hot like damn... mommy🥵

user7 I'm so confused... is this Alonso's girl or not?

user8 trust me user7 - we'd all like to know that😭

user9 😍

yourusername and fernandoalo_oficial posted on instagram stories

yourusername story has been seen by taylorswift, lance_stroll and 13,634 others

fernandoalo_oficial story has been seen by charles_leclerc, astonmartinf1 and 308,003 others

user1 replied to yourusername story: is that an f1 driver there y/n

dancer1 replied to yourusername story: Hope he'll not disappoint me in person when you talked about him sm 😒

yourusername ohhh trust me you'll love him just as I do🥰

dancer1 omg bleeeeh I hope not 🫣

user2 replied to yourusername story: your friends are so pretty😩

taylorswift replied to yourusername story: When you'll take him to get my approval??

yourusername soon taylor, soon... I'm just afraid it'll break the internet lol

taylorswift I think we're used to that already with Travis at this point😂

yourusername true😭

fernandoalo_official replied to yourusername story: 🔥

yourusername it's going to be okay, they'll love you 🫶

fernandoalo_oficial how did you know I was nervous amor?

yourusername I saw you literally shaking when you left to the bathroom love...😹

yourusername oh they're back come quickly!!💞

fernandoalo_oficial onmw

user3 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: IS THIS THE CONFIRMATION WE NEEDED?!

user4 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: I see what you're doing here old man 👀

user5 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: soft launch slowly turning into a hard launch and I'm here for it!!!!

dancer1 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: I guess you aren't that bad in person...

fernandoalo_oficial 😁

user6 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: screaming crying throwing up

taylorswift replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: You better treat my best dancer right Alonso!🤍

fernandoalo_oficial of course ma'am! 🫡

user7 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: So cute!!😍

messages between Y/N and Fernando

fernandoalo_oficial posted on instagram

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, f1, yourusername and 601,239 others

tagged: yourusername

fernandoalo_oficial All these people think love's for show but I would die for you in secret... #swiftie

view all 6,022 comments

yourusername I'd just like to make it clear to everybody that it's me who made him be swiftie... you're welcome💋

liked by the author

user1 OMG THE LYRICS FROM PEACE BY TAYLOR

carmenmmundt Y/N is so pretty!😍

yourusername ohh carmen ilysm you're even prettier🥹

user2 No way Fernando just really har launched his gf😭

f1 We smell a new wag!

user4 LOL you're kinda late for that admin xd

user5 Congrats and wish you well world champ!💪

user6 can we talk about how gorgeous she is???

lilymhe double date when honey?

yourusername anytime babeee!!!

fernandoalo_oficial why do I have a feeling me and alex_albon will be third-wheeling on you two?🤨

alex_albon you'll eventually get used to third-wheeling your own girlfriend and her friends, trust me fernando...🤠

user7 This girl is like a goddess, I can't even blame him ❤️🔥

user8 mommy & daddy

georgerussell63 Finally! Congratulation on the hard launch mate👍

fernandoalo_oficial and look who's original with emojis now...😂

user9 from now on this is my fav couple

user10 mine to

user11 SHUT UP THE DELULU GIRLIES ON TWITTER WERE RIGHT

lance_stroll 💚💚

user12 nah I don't know what he see in her🙄

user13 Go away we don't want the jealous haters here 🥱

kellypiquet Welcome to the F1 family yourusername!🤍

yourusername thx!💞

user14 i call this couple goals

user15 I'M SO READY FOR BOYFRIEND MATERIAL ALONSO

user16 I can already feel he'll be so hot in his new era 😩

user17 lmao nando in his swiftie and stlutty era as someone on twitter said😹

yourusername swiftie and slutty era? i like the sound of it😏

user16 not y/n reading all the comments sipping over her bf 💀

liked by yourusername

THE END

Author's Note: Hello everyone, hope you liked it! I'm not sure you should get used to me posting so often, but let's say that after Lance's social media au and the great feedback I had so much motivation... plus I'm sick, so I actually have the time to write and create XD. Anyway, I'll be glad for likes, comments, reblog and every other way of showing support! Have a great day and let me know how you liked Nando and swiftie dancer together!

480 notes · View notes

mariclerc · 24 days

Text

An unexpected role (pt.4) | cl16

Summary: you revealed your little secret to your date, you didn't expect he would take it so well.

Warning: bad comments on social media, unnamed ex-partner, abusive ex-partner, swearing, a LOT of fluff and Charles being an amazing dad and boyfriend.

a/n: this one is a little bit long, I hope you like ittt!!

Check out the series!! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

taglist 🎀 @martaaairwin1994-blog @barcelonaloverf1life @bananaleclerc @thedecalcomania-blog @jonasswifie

ynusername

liked by lissiemackintosh, arthur_leclerc, kellypiquet and others

tagged charles_leclerc

ynusername my loves 🤍🤍

user1 NO WAY ‼️‼️‼️

itslolasss you finally posted them bestie 🥹🥹 i'm supa proud

charles_leclerc it cost her a couple of tears but i'm finally on her insta 😌😌

ynusername itslolasss please don't believe him okay? But yes, I may have cried a little while posting this 😭😭

itslolasss i know you did darling don't worry abt that 🫶🏻🫶🏻

charles_leclerc I love you and Lily with all my heart 💗💗 my cute girls

ynusername charlieeee 😭😭 you're making me cry babe 🥺🥺

charles_leclerc owww, don't cry little dove 🥺🥺

landonorris i missed several chapters charles_leclerc can you explain????

pierregasly i also missed several chapters bro

landonorris wait you didn't know this?? then who knew?

logansargeant when did this happen? i'm lost

carlossainz55 same here

user2 not half of the grid not knowing that Charles had a family 🫣🫣🫣

scuderiaferrari we didn't know either 🧍🏼‍♀️

user1 TEAM 😳😳😳😳

francisca.cgomes cutiesss 💕💕💕 i love you bothhh

ynusername kikaaa Lily misses youuuuu 🫶🏻🫶🏻

charles_leclerc

liked by lewishamilton, jeanalesi, alex_albon and others

tagged ynusername

charles_leclerc my whole lifeeee, I love them both 💗🎀✨

lorenzotl finallyyyyyyyyyy

user1 oh my god, they're so pretty 🥺 congratulations charlie for your little family

ynusername we love youuuuu so much charliee 🥹😭 thank you for appearing at the perfect time in our lives, we owe you a lot 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

charles_leclerc it's nothing amore, the one who owes you two a lot is actually me 🥹🥹

ynusername okay charlie boo boo! 🥺🥺

leclerc_pascale mes filles, je les aime beaucoup 💗💗 (my daughters, I love you both very much)

ynusername nous t'aimons aussi maman!! (we love you too mom!!)

charles_leclerc bien sûr, tu ne m'aimes plus... mens, je plaisante maman 🤍🤍 (of course you don't love me anymore... lie, I'm joking mom)

scuderiaferrari welcome to the red team Lily and yn!!! ❤️❤️❤️

liked by creator and ynusername

lilymhe oh goodness congrats big guy! And welcome to the f1 paddock cute girlies 💕💕

ynusername oh god, thank u sweetheart 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sebastianvettel congrats Charles ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc thank you so much Seb!!

sebastianvettel if you need some parenting guide you can ask me anything!

charles_leclerc noted!! Thank you so much Seb <3

user3 oh god, congrats champ!!!!

f1gossipp are we seriously going to congratulate him just because he is raising a little girl and his dating a pig?

user2 bro... Let him live!!! He has a beautiful and adorable family and I think that from comments like yours on social media he had them safe and sound!!

f1gossipp yeah sure, she looks like a fucking golddigger

user4 yeah, she looks like a total bitch. Attracting a man using a little girl as bait? Please, everything to get attention because she needs it

francisca.cgomes can you please shut the fuck up??? this is why Charles didn't want to show little Lily or yn and he did it because he is proud of them and loves them with his whole heart!! it's one thing for you to support him and another thing for him to throw shit at the people he loves.

Your cell phone doesn't stop vibrating with notifications, since last night you decided (as a family) to post pictures of yourselves on insta and, as expected, some fans went completely crazy, but too crazy in your opinion. There were many good comments, and you really appreciated them, as there were also very, very bad and ugly comments talking about you and Lily and what hurts you the most is that it's not your or her fault.

Right now you are lying in bed next to Charles, he has one arm on your waist and you are lying on his chest, even though your head hasn't stopped spinning thousands of times, the beat of his heart calms you incredibly and you really loved that.

Suddenly you hear the bedroom door open and small footsteps echo in the silent room.

“Mama? Up! Up!” Lily says from the foot of the bed, trying to climb up.

“Oh, come here darling!” You say while you move a little without waking Charles so you can put Lily on the bed next to you.

She smiles. “Dada?” she asked.

“Dada is sleeping baby, but we can sleep with him too, don't you think?” you said to her softly, she nodded.

She moved onto your other side and you covered her with the blanket you and Charles were using. She snuggled up next to you while you tried to fall asleep even just a little. These quiet moments are what fill you with calm and make you have hope that not everything is bad, you have a nice family, a healthy and happy little girl, a wonderful boyfriend who would go to the moon for you two and there's not much more you can ask for. This is everything you ever dreamed of having.

Suddenly Charles babbles something a little sleepy. “Mhm, good morning princesses!” He says and you let out a giggle.

“Good morning champ!” you say as you give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Dada! Mowning!” Lily says making hands so that her dad can hold her in his arms.

“Oh, but what a nice good morning I have here! Ma petite fleur and ma belle” He says as he brushes his nose against Lily's and smiles. (my little flower. my beautiful.)

“Yes, especially with online comments.” You say releasing a sigh.

He looks at you curious. “What kind of comments, my dear? Don't tell me you read those comments?”

You nodded. “Sadly yes, it's just that... I couldn't help it, sorry love.”

He denied. “You shouldn't apologize to me love, they are the wrong ones! They don't know you and they don't know Lily to have an opinion about you or our little family.” He looked at you and smiled and then kissed you on the corners of your lips. “So you don't have to apologize to me, okay? I love you two very much and I hope you know it, honey.” He says as he starts giving you kisses on your face, Lily starts bouncing in his arms and you laugh.

You nod with a shy smile on your face. “Okay sir, I won't apologize to you but it does bother me that they are that way, you know?”

“I know love, but don't waste your energy on that, there are more important things than that. Like, for example, Lily!” He says smiling at the aforementioned and she giggles. “Look at her, isn't she cute? Because yes she is, a cutie!”

You giggle. “Fine, fine. How about we get up and start this day properly, okay? What would you like for breakfast, my loves?”

“Pancakes!” They both say in unison, you smile and get out of bed.

***

The rest of the day passed peacefully, and you were truly grateful. You liked being in this little bubble of love and comfort building colourful block towers with Lily and Charles, but sometimes it was necessary to show a little bit of that love that you have as a family to the world, and perhaps many people are bothered by that, but at the same time there are many who don't.

But seeing the smile on your baby girl face every time her dada tickles her or hugs her is priceless and it makes you think that you are really in the right place.

“Love? What are you thinking about honeybunch?” he asked softly while holding Lily in his arms.

“Nothing, I'm just so happy to be with you. It sounds silly, but you guys make me so so happy.”

He smiled. “Aww, love. That is so cute! I am also very happy to be with you two!”

Lily, feeling the love, begins to giggle a few times. “Mama! Dada! Love!”

You giggle. “We love you too baby!” you say in unison.

You more than anyone know that with the photos being posted on Insta, your parents are going to want to try to get back into your life. And it really doesn't make any sense since they turned their back on you many times and now they want to come back to see how much money they can "get" from you or Charles is very stupid.

“Do you know what terrifies me? That my parents, seeing the photos of us on social media, want to come back into my life, you know? After everything they did to me...” You were going to continue but he silenced you with a kiss on the lips.

“Princess, don't think about that. Yes, they most likely want to get back into your life and Lily's, but you know what? It's up to you to make them come in or not.” he whispers.

“Who are you and what did you do with my Charles? I didn't know this philosophical Charles.” he laughs.

“Sometimes I have to use logic honey, I'm not just a pretty driver.” you let out a laugh while he winks. “But honestly baby, don't think about that... How about we watch a movie together?”

Suddenly, almost automatically, Lily smiled. “Movie! Can we 'atch... Princess movies?” she asked softly.

Charles smiled and caressed her hair. “But of course honey! We can watch any princess movie you want!”

You smiled and got up from the floor. “Okay, I'll look for a blanket and I'll look for Mimi too!”

“Mimi!” Lily screeched and you giggled.

“Okay okay, you two stay there.” You say as you walk towards Lily's room to look for her stuffed bunny Mimi. “What movie will we see, loves?” You ask from the hallway.

“Tangled!” They say in unison, you just laugh while grabbing the blanket, that's yours and Lily's favorite movie and little by little it has become Charles' favorite —although he was a little reluctant to watch princess movies but he loves them.

You return to the living room where Lily and Charles are already settled on the sofa with some sweets and a small glass of water for Lily. “Tangled it is then!” You say as you hand Mimi to Lily while she snuggles between the two of you and the three of you shelter under the blanket.

ynusername posted a story

itslolasss god, what a beautiful thing, you three will make me cry I sweaaaarr 😭😭😭

ynusername stfu, right now i feel like i'm in a fever dream you know? Not counting the bad comments on insta.

itslolasss girl I love you and I love your little girl, but please don't hurt yourself by reading all that garbage :( they have no idea what a great mother you are‼️‼️

itslolasss i bet all my money that Charles already gave you a lecture about not seeing those disgusting comments 🫵🏻🫵🏻

ynusername erm... Yes 👉🏻👈🏻 and I say, he's truly right tbh

itslolasss can we talk about the fact that you made him watch TANGLED? He's such a girl dad bestie

ynusername hehe, yup lily and i did that thing 😋🥰

“You know something baby?” You move your head to the side so you can see Charles blushing a little bit. “We have our own fairy tale here.” he whispered.

You giggle while caressing lily's back, she fell asleep in your arms. “Are you sure about that?”

He nodded. “Yup! We have our own little bubble of love here, a sleepy little princess, and I have you.” he gives you a small peck on your lips. “There may be some... little problems along the way of course, but I don't think that will be an impediment for us.” he smiled at you.

“Aww, babe. That's so sweet!” you blush slightly at his cute words. “I know that not everything is rosy and there will be some problems, but I don't think it is impossible for us.”

He smiles and kisses you on the lips, it was a slow and sweet kiss, after a little while you separated to catch your breath. “As long as I am with you both nothing bad would happen to you, okay?” He said and you just nodded with a smile on your face, really with him both you and Lily felt protected.

***

A couple of weeks have passed since that night, and the truth is that everything is going quite well, no one hates you and Lily on social media anymore, apparently they managed to understand that you are a family... And by "understand" you mean that Charles posted an extremely long post on Instagram to make it clear that if people (or the "fans") hate his family will have to deal with him.

“Calm down little butterfly, I've finished combing your hair, okay?” you say tenderly to Lily as she plays with Mimi.

“Okay mama.” she giggled softly.

You finish fixing her hair when there is a knock on the door, you are not waiting for anyone, Charles had gone out to buy some groceries but other than that you weren't waiting for someone else. So very cautiously, you walk towards the door and look through the peephole to see who it is.

“What... What he does... here?” You whisper to yourself, on the other side of the door is your ex-partner.

You feel your body start to shake, this can't be happening! How did he manage to find out where you live? You're honestly terrified to think that he might take Lily, but to be honest, coming back after almost three years of abandoning you both when you were pregnant it's pretty stupid and dumb.

With trembling hands you manage to write a quick message to Charles which, surprisingly, he read immediately and replied with “I'm on my way bubba. Don't worry everything will be fine <3” You let out a sigh and very carefully looked through the peephole again, he is still standing there with a face that is not at all pleasant.

With a heavy sigh you slightly opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled coquettishly. “I thought about paying my girls a visit.”

You cleared your throat. “Oh really? After almost three years, really? Besides we were never "your girls", so if you can go away I would be very grateful” You say with a coarse, serious and annoying voice.

He sighs heavily. “Do you have another man?” He says with anger. “Answer me, bitch.”

You roll your eyes. “So what if I have it or not? It's not your fucking problem!” You say exasperated.

He looks at you again with anger and hatred. “You are with that fucking little driver? Oh really? You are such a little whore, looking for new sticks to insert in your holes.”

“Please, stop now, please.” you whisper, begging him to leave you alone. “Stop this please.”

He didn't listen to you and slapped you in the face, the raw sound echoed in the hallway of the building, you were perplexed in your place with your red eyes full of tears. This was common when you were together? Yes, sadly it was, but you couldn't do anything, you were too young and, according to your parents, he was the "right man" for you... What a crap.

“Mama?” You heard Lily's soft voice and before your ex could hit you again you took her into your arms.

You looked at Lily with a somewhat sad face. “It's okay cutie pie, mama is here.” you whisper.

He looked at you both like you were fresh meat. “Is that Lily? Come to daddy sweetheart.” It's ironic how one moment he was hitting you and now he wants to play house with you and Lily, totally abnormal.

Lily looked at your ex and started whining. “You not ma' dada.” Lily said in a stammer.

“I know darling, dada is going to be here soon, I promise.” you whispered again.

He frowned and became angry again. “So, you're really with that little driver, huh? Oh little bitch, you'll see.” He said with his voice full of rage and egocentrism.

You closed your eyes and covered Lily as you waited for the impact of, perhaps, another slap or perhaps something worse, but that impact never came. Half open your eyes to watch as Charles held your ex's wrist with one hand and grabbed the door frame with the other.

“Listen, I don't know who the fuck you are but I'll just say one thing and I hope it's clear to you.” Charles said with a strong voice, you had never seen him so angry, well, only a couple of times when he got angry with his track engineer, but nothing more than that. “You come to touch a measly inch of my wife and daughter and I swear to you that you won't have an easy time finding a job or even a partner later on, is that clear?” he said rudely.

“You're just a fucking driver, what are you going to do to me? Run over me?” Your ex said.

Charles laughed sarcastically and without grace. “Please, I am capable of making your life miserable.” he smiled sinisterly. “Now if you allow me, could you get out of here? I want to spend time with my wife and daughter, and if that bothers you and you want to cause another stupid scene, I can call security.” he said in a serious voice.

As if it were a warning, the building security appeared and took your ex-partner away from your apartment door, you let out a sigh of relief and hug Charles with Lily in your arms and he hugs you back. You let out the suppressed tears in your eyes, it has been so long since you felt so much fear and terror and the fact that Lily has been present terrifies you even more, he begins to rub your and Lily's back very carefully.

“He's gone baby, let it out, there's no pressure.” Charles said in a whisper as you entered the apartment again.

You let out a little whimper. “I don't know what... I don't know what he was doing here, how he found us... I was very scared.” He caressed your face a little and then separated and looked for the bag with the groceries that he left in the hallway. “I don't what he wanted Cha... I'm... I'm sorry” you whisper he wiped your tears with his thumb.

“Baby... You don't have to apologize for his shitty attitude, the important thing is that I arrived on time, don't you think? And besides, you and Lily are safe, which is the most important thing.” he said. “Although, I can help you place a restraining order against him, if you wish.”

You blinked a few times. “Really? Charlie, it's not necessary, you know?” he shook his head multiple times.

“Love, you have to do it. It's for your safety and Lily's! I wouldn't mind talking to my lawyers about it and getting help from them.” He said in a calm voice as he carried a calm Lily in his arms.

“You're sure?” I looked at him hopefully.

He nods. “Completely sure, darling.”

You nod with a shy smile on your face. “Okay babe.”

He kisses your temple. “Now, how about we cure that ugly mark on your face? And then we can have a cuddle session for my favorite girls, how does that sound?” He says while tickling Lily's tummy, you nod.

“That sounds good." You smile a little. “Thanks again love.” you said and he kisses you softly.

He guides you to the room and heals the minor wounds left by your ex's slap. His touch is gentle and soft, it's like he doesn't want to hurt you and that's good for your soul. Finally, he placed one of Lily's bandages on your cheek and kissed the spot, causing you to giggle.

“Your stuble tickles me love!” you say and he smiles and blushes.

“And why isn't Lily tickled, hm?” He says with a little smile and starts giving Lily kisses and she giggles loudly.

“Dadaa! Tickles!” she says between giggles.

You smiled. “What did you say, honey?”

“Fine, fine. Maybe you have a bunch of tickles!” he says with a chuckle. “My ticklish girls.” He says and tickles you and Lily again and you both laugh louder.

***

After a few hours, sleep overcame Lily and you were just a push away from falling asleep, the fatigue of the unexpected day was hitting you hard. But you couldn't go to sleep without first talking to Charles a little, it was a kind of routine that you do before going to sleep.

You murmur. “Mhm, baby?” you asked.

“Can't you sleep my darling?” He asks and you nod. “Come here petit bébé.” He says as he opens his arms. (little baby)

You snuggle into his arms. “I don't know how to thank you for what you do for us.” You whisper.

“Baby, you don't have to thank me for that, you know?” He says softly. “It's something that comes naturally from me, it's nothing really.” He says while placing kisses all over your face and you giggle.

“you are an angel charlie.” You smile.

“I don't see myself as an angel, but if you say so, that's fine!” He giggles and blushes.

You make a little silence and then speak again. “So... My wife, you said earlier, tell me, sir, what do you mean by that?” You giggle a little.

He blushes even more. “Oh well, I don't know, it just came out... I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable darling.” He said a little embarrassed and you silenced him with a short kiss on the lips.

“Not at all... I have to say that I liked it.” You whisper and he opened his eyes wide.

“Doesn't it make you uncomfortable?” you denied.

“You can call me that as many times as you want bubba!” you giggled.

“Oh god, thank you so much chérie, you make me the luckiest man in the world!” he giggled.

“It's nothing baby boy! It's like you say, it's something that comes naturally.” You say and give him several kisses.

With him you feel safe and loved, a feeling that you haven't had for a long time (since before you finally knew him). And so in the warm arms of your loved one, you fall into a deep sleep thinking that not everything is bad, there are good moments as well as bad ones, but with him and Lily there is nothing they cannot overcome as a family.

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles x reader #charles x mom #charles leclerc #dad!charles leclerc #charles leclerc x mom #charles x you

328 notes · View notes

tzuberry · 10 months

Text

zerobaseone maknae line as tropes / cliches ૮ • ﻌ - ა

pairing shen quanrui (ricky), kim gyuvin, park gunwook, han yujin + gn reader⠀⠀⠀details fluff, slight angst in ricky’s and gunwook’s, bulletpoint and written

cw getting stood up, mention of lipstick use in ricky’s ⠀⠀⠀wc 738 696 604 802 respectively (2840 in total)⠀⠀⠀reading time 22 min

note title kinda misleading TBH... havent written on tumblr in a while, so this is a new account and my first post! im hoping this doesnt flop :( i loved writing this so much, so if it flops i might just repost it ... idk.. likes and reblogs are appreciated !!! (only if u want to ofc 🤞🏻)

masterlist navigation

ricky 리키

blind date... but you got stood up, and ricky is your best friend

it’s not that you really wanted to go on a date, it’s that your friend assured you this was the perfect guy for you

and your friend swore, cross their heart, that you would not regret letting them set you up

but now you’re sitting at a table alone, with pitiful looks being thrown your way by the restaurant staff and the other groups of people around you and it’s clear to you; you do regret it, and this is the last time you’ll let anyone other than yourself handle your love life

after compulsorily buying a meal for yourself so as to not leave the place empty handed, you slowly chew on your food, wondering where it went wrong

did he see a picture of you and decided that was it? did he hear a story about you that was just unflattering? what was it about you that made them turn around and away from the restaurant—away from you?

in the midst of all this, your phone emits a ding! sound. you’re not doing anything important, so you see it fit to check the notification

ricky 😡🐱: how’s your date going?

terribly. but that’s a little embarrassing to admit, especially to ricky...

yn: good! i’ll text you later

you lay your phone down on the table and pick up your utensils once again to finish your meal, but a shadow casting over your plate interrupts you

“why are you alone, then?”

When you follow the voice (and the shadow), Ricky is standing next to your table, his phone in hand with the screen open on your text thread. He turns it off with a swift click of the power button, and he takes the space on the other side of the table where your date should have been.

You don’t know how to respond. You’re embarrassed; a second ago, you were alone at a restaurant filled with people, and now, your best friend has caught you lying to him about being at said restaurant alone.

“What happened?” Ricky asks as his arm makes its way across the table to your glass of water. He lifts it to his lips, taking a sip and placing it back down. He looks genuinely concerned, maybe even a little pissed, but all you can focus on is how your lipstick stain is on the rim of the cup, and how he drank from that same spot.

You shake your head. “I, um,” you pause, pursing your lips and trying to find a good enough (fake) reason. “Nothing. I didn’t like him, and he said he had other plans, so I just let him go.”

Ricky furrows his eyebrows at that. It’s a very visible sign of incredulity; he doesn’t believe your lie. Nevertheless, he simply shrugs it off. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you reply, still dealing with the aftereffects of being stood up. You poke your fork at the food before you; a lost appetite and an expensive meal don’t mix well.

Ricky leans forward, letting his forearms rest on the surface of the table. He’s looking at you so seriously, analyzing your every move. “Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, attempting to come off as teasing, but he only waves you off. “I just want to look at you.”

You feel yourself practically melt under his gaze, but you ignore it. This is Ricky, your best friend... nothing more. Right. This is Ricky—you should tell him the truth about why you’re alone.

“He didn’t come,” you admit. “I wasn’t super excited about this date, but I thought– I thought I would at least go on a date. This is... nothing. I was here by myself before you got here.”

There’s a pained glint in his eyes. Is he feeling sorry for you? Maybe you do deserve all the pity you’ve gotten today. He gulps, keeping eye contact with you while biting on a small portion of his bottom lip.

After a while, he sighs. “Come on.”

Ricky begins to stand up, stuffing his phone into his pocket before you hold him back by the wrist. “What?” you question.

“We’ll go do something else,” he says with a bob of his head. Your grasp on his wrist somehow turns into your hands being interlocked. “Let me take you on a date. I’ve always wanted to, and I promise I won’t screw it up.”

gyuvin 규빈

boy next door who you’ve always had feelings for, you just never thought of him liking you back

you’ve always liked kim gyuvin

from the moment his family moved in next to your house, with his bedroom parallel to yours

you could see everything through his window; who he was, what his hobbies were, what he admired, and how he acted with his friends

this all made him seem... unattainable. you felt like you were the audience for a show, and gyuvin was the actor

it didn’t help that you went to the same school, and to further that, he was immensely popular

it was obvious. how could you expect that someone like him wouldn’t be? he’s tall, cute, extroverted, funny and kind—the entire package, if you would say so yourself

you weren’t totally unpopular. you had your fair share of friends, a few social circles that you hung out with. but gyuvin seemed too out of reach for you, even if he was your neighbor

the singular interaction you’ve had was when he came over to ask for sugar. it went like this: “hi!” “hi?” “i was baking, and i kind of ran out of brown sugar. do you maybe... uh...” “oh, sugar? wait, i think i do, hold on.”

it was that awkward. so when your mother told you she became new friends with gyuvin’s mom and wanted to have dinner at their house as a family, you freaked

but it’s not like you can say no, so you found yourself at the kims’ door a few days later

“Hi! You must be [Name]. I’ve seen you around, and I’ve heard about you from Gyuvin, but you’re much prettier up close! I know who you get your looks from,” Mrs Kim says, winking at your mother.

“You’re too kind, your son is very polite, and...”

You tune their conversation out—did she say she’s heard about you from Gyuvin? Why would he be talking about you?

Your mom finishes it (whatever she was talking about) off with, “They’d be perfect together, don’t you think?” Mrs Kim nods vigorously, then pats you twice on the shoulder. “[Name], maybe you would want to go spend some time with Gyuvin first? I’m afraid dinner isn’t ready, there’s still a long way... I’ll call you both down when it is. He’s up in his room.”

You bow, excusing yourself and obligingly treading up the stairs. This is the second time you’re about to interact with him—you better not mess up.

On the final step of the staircase, you start to hear talking from one of the bedrooms. From where you stand, it’s not clear where its origin is, and so you try to listen for the voice. It leads you to a slightly open door, and holy shit—this is Gyuvin’s door.

“They’re coming over today, and, ugh, I don’t know,” he rants. Is that about you? It has to be. Who else is coming over? You move closer to the door frame, nearly peeking your head in. “I just– I don’t know how to talk to them! Last time, I went over to ask if they wanted to hang out and...” he trails off, the regret evident in his tone. “I asked for sugar. To bake.” Oh my god. This is about you.

You take another step, risking the possibility of the door creaking. “I don’t even bake! I came home with sugar and my mom asked why and I just said I found some on the street.” He sighs, exasperated. You inch even closer, toying with the chances of him catching you eavesdropping, when... creak. At the same time, Gyuvin’s rant is cut short. “Gunwook, you have to help me, I can’t be an idiot in front of them–”

His head snaps towards the door, where you are, standing and staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. He quickly hangs up, bidding Gunwook a hushed goodbye through the microphone. “How much of that did you hear?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, flattered and shy at the same time. “I think... all of it.”

Gyuvin’s hand raises to cup his nape, and he gives you the most endearing yet bashful smile. “Would you, maybe, um, wanna hang out sometime? With me, of course...”

gunwook 건욱

friends to lovers, and everyone is sure you both like each other but all you do is deny it

you know gunwook like the back of your hand

although you met a little over a year ago, he quickly became a constant in your life, especially because you saw him everyday at school

he would wait outside your class, eat lunch with you, walk you home (and sometimes to school in the mornings), help you with homework even though he’s always busy with all the extracurriculars he participates in, and additionally schedules weekly study sessions together

this led countless people to think you were dating, even though you’re really not

you deny it, making a gesture with your hands indicating the negative. “we’re just friends, he would never be my boyfriend,” you laugh it off. gunwook tenses up, and the corners of his lips suddenly become downturned. “yeah, we’re just friends...” he agrees, sounding somewhat unsure

that’s what happens every single time someone mistakes you for a couple. you’re the first to refuse that assumption, while gunwook just follows your lead

you thought, “hey, maybe he’s just shy around the topic of dating.” and so you don’t push it, or even ask about what he thinks of the rumors surrounding you two

at this week’s study session, which he scheduled at his house, he can’t focus

repeatedly tapping his pen and running his fingers through his hair—doing anything but his homework, really—he doesn’t even spare you a glance

and so you take the responsibility upon yourself to ask. “is something bothering you?”

Gunwook sighs, looking as if he’s internally debating the pros and cons of unloading his baggage onto you. His eyes dart around his room, from the door, to the desk, to the bed, and finally to you, before he swipes his tongue between his lips and lets out a breath. “Can I ask you something?”

You drop your pen. Why does he seem so conflicted?

Readjusting your position on the bed to face him, you lean closer to Gunwook as you shove your school books and other materials out of the way. “You can ask me anything,” you say, determined to comfort your friend.

He visibly hesitates, biting his bottom lip. He’s still not looking at you, and not so much as a second is allotted for one glimpse. “Do you...” he pauses, trying to muster the courage. “Do you really think of me as just a friend?”

The question almost makes your jaw drop to the floor. What does he mean by that? Sure, you did have a short-lived crush on him when you first got acquainted, but it faded instantaneously. You didn’t know you could be anything more—you thought you had no chance with a guy like him, so your feelings were trivial to you.

Tilting your head, you reply, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Gunwook shrugs, also following your actions and pushing all his textbooks away. “I guess– oh my god, this sounds stupid, but,” he groans, “I’ve liked you since last year, since before we even became friends. And whenever someone asks if I’m your boyfriend, you just– you immediately say no.”

He... likes you? You’re dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth actually agape this time. You’re certain your cheeks are red, judging from the heat you feel rush up to your face.

At your silence, he continues. “I know it’s stupid. I didn’t just become friends with you because I like you, it’s more than that, but everytime you say I could never be your boyfriend or something like that, I hate it.

“I’ve liked you for so long, and please answer me,” he sounds breathless as he speaks, “Can I... can we be anything more?”

yujin 유진

first love / teenage crush

you didn’t know when you started liking yujin, you just did

maybe it was when you would watch him play soccer after school, with him alone on the field practicing and you doing your homework on the bleachers

or maybe it was when he bought you a drink that one time. you were thirsty after running to school because you were on the verge of getting an offense on your permanent record if you were late one more time

clicking a few buttons on the vending machine, the solace provided by strawberry milk was nearly yours—until you open your wallet to find that there’s only a thousand won inside

“maybe next time,” you think, “i don’t need to drink anything right now.”

but before you can leave, someone sneaks their two thousand into the slot for you, and the milk drops down into the small metal box below for you to claim

when you turn around, you’re met with yujin

and then a switch flipped. since then, you’ve noticed han yujin wherever you went

you stumbled onto the soccer field on a hot day when you were assigned cleaning duty, and you found that he was the only one there

deciding to repay the favor, after spectating him practicing for a while, you go to buy a drink for him too when you buy your own

you leave it next to his bag with a note, saying: “you’re really good! i bought this for you, make sure to get some rest ♡”

and so watching him practice while doing your homework became a regular occurrence for you, even if you weren’t 100% watching all the time. it was like background music, and your interest in him (caused by him buying you milk) became a full blown crush

Following the steps of your daily routine, you hurriedly arrange your books in your backpack, ready to go see Yujin—the best part of your day—when your teacher stops you at the door.

“[Name], I’d like to talk to you about tutoring someone,” she says, a soft smile plastered on her face as if she wasn’t actively ruining your day. “You’re one of my best students, and a classmate of yours really needs help.”

As hard as you tried to get away, you got stuck in the classroom for the rest of the afternoon, discussing possible tutoring times and the topic outlines where your “classmate” needed further explanation. Not only were you annoyed you missed some time to see Yujin, but when you got to the field, hoping he would still be practicing late into the night, he was gone.

Although you were displeased at the thought of having to tutor your male classmate every day of the school week, you had no choice. In addition, he was at least paying you, so it wasn’t like your hard work was for nothing—just that now, you would have to sacrifice your time with the boy you like.

You started to tutor him after school, and going to see Yujin became a rare possibility. Your tutoring was yielding good results, however, and your tutee received high marks on almost all tests after being taken under your wing.

He runs up to you, showing you his paper with a big red ninety-eight in the corner; he got an even higher grade than you did. “[Name]! Thank you, look at this! I’ve never gotten a grade this high!” You nod, but everything he’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. Since he technically doesn’t need your help anymore, maybe you could go watch Yujin today.

You cancel your session for the day, with permission from your advising teacher. After two and a half weeks, you’re finally back at the field—but this time, he’s the one who isn’t here. You let out a deep breath, deciding to power through and do your homework like normal.

You’re in the middle of trigonometry when a cool sensation is pressed up against your cheek, water beginning to drip down your skin. Flicking your head towards the perpetrator, you discover it to be Yujin holding a strawberry milk for you. He giggles, handing you the small box and sitting down beside you. “Here. I haven’t, um, seen you in a while. Why’s that?”

You take it from him, detaching the straw from the back of the box and poking it through the designated hole. “Yeah,” you say, sipping on the milk for a few seconds after. “I started to tutor Jiwon, so I couldn’t come the last few weeks.”

“Oh, you must be busy, then. Nevermind,” he mutters, shaking his head. “No, what is it? You can’t just say nevermind.” You scoff, a teasing grin making its way onto your face.

Yujin gulps. “Will you, uh... come to my game this weekend?”

1K notes · View notes

tinydeskwriter · 1 month

Text

LOVE HOLD| ⟮private⟯

lando norris x wolff!reader | f1 grid x wolff!reader (mostly)platonic

A/n: just a little peak at y/n private ig account...

«previous part | next part»

liked by lilymhe, landonorris, susie_wolff and 43 others

noty/n.wolff it all started when my mom met my dad, they fell in love, and they had me! hi, i'm ryan... dude, those are my parents, I came from them, talk about winner genes...

view all 18 comments

alex_albon you did not inherit they height though...

↳noty/n.wolff your opinion is irrelevant...

↳charlesleclerc midget😊

↳noty/n.wolff i going over there to cry on my many grand slam trophies from my many wins, comforted in the fact that I'm still number one in the world, not that you guys know what this feel like...

↳charlesleclerc uncalled for...

↳noty/n.wolff don't come for my height and I won't come for your lack of wins🙂

↳landonorris ankle biter

↳noty/n.wolff i am going to ignore you

Aug 12th 2022

liked by lilymhe, landonorris, francisca.cgomes and 65 others

(tagged: francisca.cgomes; charlottesiine; elizaabrams; cassandra.blanchard; benshelton)

noty/n.wolff men ain't shit, like the goddess cher once siad, man are like dessert, you don't need them... stick to your girls (+benny)

btw pierregasly, thank u for introducing me to kika, i think i am keeping her😘

view all 23 comments

francisca.cgomes you can keep me😍

↳pierre gasly wait a minute...

↳noty/n.wolff💍alexa play boyfriend by dove cameron

Oct 30th 2022

liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, landonorris, susie_wolff and 52 others

noty/n.wolff go shawty, it's your birthday, we gon' party like it's your birthday... congrats landito! you manage to survive for 23 years, and i am so proud of you! there were a few close calls(at least a few that i witnessed) but you made it! i hope you feel blessed and special, not everyone gets a appreciation post from yours truly🤍

jokes aside...happy birthday lan, i wish you a world of happiness, because you deserve it, thank u for making my life happier by being in it 🤍 we have been in each others lives for nearly fifteen years now, here to more fifteen, i hope you know, through thick and thin, i will always be by your side 🤍😘

view all 30 comments

lilymhe I love the third photo, who took it??

↳francisca.cgomes I thought the same when I saw the fourth photo

↳noty/n.wolff 😘

alex_albon just friends, she says

↳georgerussell63 the best of friends, she says

↳alex_albon we are being ignored

↳georgerussell63 I noticed

landonorris❤️❤️❤️

↳noty/n.wolff 🤍🤍🤍

Nov 13th 2022

liked by carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, landonorris, susie_wolff and 49 others

noty/n.wolff last trip of the year before going home for christmas, touring with local carlossainz55, Madrid may have become one of my favorite cities in the world, thank you the Sainz family for welcoming me and for the 5⭐hospitality, congrats on the newlyweds, beautiful wedding a wish you guys a long and happy life together🤍

view all 10 comments

carlossainz55 come back whenever you want

Dec 9th 2022

liked by lilymhe, landonorris, susie_wolff and 43 others

noty/n.wolff Merry Christmas folks🤍

view all 32 comments

Dec 25th 2022

noty/n.wolff half a century + 1 looks good on you🤍 the man who always encouraged me to follow my dreams and do twice as much to make them come true, who never let me give up, and who, even though he couldn't physically be present, never lost any of my matches. #1 dad in the world, best team principal in F1, a example to be followed, I honestly could not wish for a better father.

love u daddy. happy birthday🤍

view all 29 comments

susie_wolff you made him emotional

elizaabrams girl sometimes I forget that your dad is the king of dilfs...

(liked by lilymhe, susie_wolff and francisca.cgomes)

noty/n.wolff 👀

Jan 12th 2023

«previous part | next part»

#f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris #f1 grid x reader #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader

338 notes · View notes

nkplanet · 4 months

Text

WHICH TROPE ARE YOU?

PAIRING: enhypen x gn!reader SUMMARY: what trope do you and the enhypen members share? WARNINGS: a smidge of angst in jungwon + heeseung’s, all set in high school apart from jay + heeseung’s, implied toxic parents in jungwon’s, written on my phone so the formatting might be weird

NOTE: thank u sm for all the love on my last post and 155 followers!! i rlly appreciate you guys 🫶🫶 also i’m definitely gonna rewrite some of these as actual fics bc i love them (looking at u jungwon and niki)

— HEESEUNG 희승 — second chance romance personally i’m not a big fan of this trope but it just fits heeseung so well like ??? hello yes i would give u a second chance. there’s no doubt in my mind that cheating would not be involved, instead it was something that happened when you two were young and immature, but when you meet again you’ve grown and can continue to do so together

it had ended awfully the first time. neither of you were particularly mature, and a heated argument had caused your entire relationship had come crashing down. sixteen year old you would always regret the way you gave heeseung the cold shoulder for a reason you couldn’t even remember, and the way you had both yelled and screamed at each other. you hadn’t spoken for years when, all of a sudden, you bumped into him in a cafe. then at work. in the park. after six years of no contact, he was everywhere. it was like the universe was telling you to give him another chance. eventually, your walls crumbled, and heeseung made his way back into your heart. the two of you had never been happier.

others under the cut!

— JAY 제이 — fake dating jay is perfect for this trope imo, especially when it comes to fake dating at a wedding. put me in a psych ward bc whenever i think abt him in a suit i go insane. also your whole family would love him because he’s such a gentleman. he’s so perfect

it was your aunts wedding, and all of your siblings were bringing their significant others as plus ones. your brother had joked about how you’d be the only single one in the wedding party and, rather than face the humiliation, you lied and told him you did in fact have a boyfriend. it was a lie you forgot about until two weeks before the wedding, when your aunt mentioned being excited to meet the mysterious man. you panicked, running to tell jay about your issue. while you were contemplating telling your family that the mysterious man had broken up with you, jay said “why don’t i pretend to be your boyfriend? just for the day?” except, his fake boyfriend touches didn’t feel very fake. your aunt remarked that the two of you reminded her of herself and your new uncle when they were young. by the end of the night, you and jay were sharing kisses outside the reception. yeah, fake boyfriend my ass.

— JAKE 제이크 — you fell first, he fell harder jake seems like such a loser (affectionately) that he’d be the one to fall first, but just imagine that he doesn’t realise his feelings are romantic. he just thinks everyone sees their best friends that way and when he finds out otherwise? oh he’s head over heels in love with you. such a loser. i love him

the way you and jake interact is far from platonic. you had developed a crush on him when you were just fifteen, and since then you'd been trying to drop hints. when he started reciprocating your admittedly flirtatious gestures, you thought you had a chance, but he never made a move. in fact, jake never realised that he shared those feelings until one of his friends pointed out that the two of you were incredibly flirty with each other. he thought everyone saw their best friends as gorgeous, as an angel sent from above, as someone who they'd willingly spend the rest of their life with. after that it was hard for him to see you in any light other than romantic. when you asked him out he practically screamed yes. he is absolutely head over heels in love

— SUNGHOON 성훈 — opposites attract i was gonna pick grumpy x sunshine for him but he’s not exactly grumpy so opposites attract it is!! he’s reserved and only really lets loose around those he considers close, whereas you’re loud and bubbly with lots of friends. one of my fav tropes for a reason

sunghoon’s attention was brought to you via your laughter. it was loud and bright, and he’d never heard anything like it. since then, he’d yearned for the sound. though he lacked the confidence to actually ask you out, he began seeking your company. he’d study with you in the library, would offer to walk you home. things that friends do. you, on the other hand, were absolutely smitten. sunghoon was quiet and a little mysterious. you could never read him, and yet you were absolutely entranced by him. you thought he was absolutely gorgeous, perhaps one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen. one day, while sunghoon was walking you home in the rain, you’d stopped and turned to face him. “what are we?” you’d asked. sunghoon remembers blanking immediately, not knowing how to reply. instead of words, he answered you with a kiss.

— SUNOO 선우 — best friend’s brother okay but imagine: you go over to ur best friends house and end up gossiping with their brother and all of a sudden,, he’s soooo attractive? and then he starts developing this crush but he can’t date you because you’re his siblings best friend. there’s probably be some secret dating involved (which i’m also a sucker for tbh)

you'd been harbouring a crush on sunoo for a while now, never acting on it because he was your best friend's brother. you looked forward to the weekly gossip sessions that the two of you shared when your friend left you together arguably more than you looked forward to seeing your friend (but don't tell her that). little did you know, sunoo felt the same. fleeting glances and not-so-platonic touches began growing between you two. eventually, sunoo asked you out. you wanted to say yes so badly but couldn't betray your friend like that. instead, you began dating in secret. it was only two months of sneaking around, 'jokingly' flirting, and kissing in places where she wouldn't see before she finally exploded, yelling that you two were gross but had her blessing. going public only increased the pda by tenfold, and people quickly grew sick of your sappy conversations. not that either of you cared, of course.

— JUNGWON 정원 — academic rivals turned lovers [full fic!] ACADEMIC RIVALS TURNED LOVERS!!!!! i love this trope sm and i think it fits won so well. i was gonna originally give this to niki but he wasn’t rlly in school. so. jungwon it is!! i can see you two as the top two in your year and always competing when one day it all comes crashing down for you. jungwon is suddenly? nice? and we go from there 🤭🤭

yang jungwon had never been the nicest person to you. sure, he was never really mean per-se, but the two of you were so competitive that nothing said was particularly nice. you and jungwon seemed to constantly be on par with each other academically, consistently being the top two students in your year. in english and sciences, you usually pulled ahead, while jungwon excelled in maths and other subjects. the rivalry between you was so tense that even the teachers tried to calm it down but to no avail. the reason behind your competitiveness was your parents. the pressure they put on you was immense, and one day you just broke. you’d had a fight with them, and the next day flunked a biology test. your grades began slipping from then on, and jungwon began to take notice. he stopped making quips, instead resorting to leaving some snacks or study tips on your desk when he thought you weren’t looking. he began giving you sympathetic looks until you eventually confronted him, telling him you didn’t want his pity. it wasn’t pity, though, it was worry. your relationship changed after that, no longer rivals but a little more than friends.

— NI-KI 니키 — childhood friends to lovers/first love OKAY HEAR ME OUT. u were childhood friends. niki realises his feelings and he’s all like oh no i can’t feel this way abt my bff :( and tried to pull away from u but ur like ??? yes tf and that’s how u become lovers

niki had been your closest friend for longer than you could remember. in both of your houses there sat baby pictures of the two of you together. you’d grown up together, going to all the same schools and most of the same clubs. in highschool, you were known as inseparable - if someone wanted one of you, they got both. but one day, niki started pulling away. it was fine, you told yourself, he was just growing up. you both were. but when he stopped answering your calls and texts and started actively avoiding you, you were hurt. you’d been by each others sides for so long that you didn’t really know how to live without him. the truth was, he’d discovered feelings that he’d never felt about anyone before. he knew he shouldn’t feel like this about his best friend, but he couldn’t help it. he was miserable without you, so much so that his friends were telling him to just ask you out. they told him that you definitely felt the same, so he took the leap. and thank god he did. you’re his first love, his everything.

#nkplanet 🪐#nkplanet’s fics 🪐#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen fluff #enhypen comfort #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sim jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #ni ki x reader

388 notes · View notes

serverusslaype · 7 months

Text

Shameless, pt. 5

snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

HEY YALL!! oh my lordddd this was so fun and emotionally draining to write lowkey, i had o children on repeat at the end and i was in my BAG, that song destroys me.

if you're still here and still following this series, thank you very much, i truly do appreciate your support - that means all the likes, follows, reblogs, comments - everything and anything <33 if you are new, hello, welcome, hi, the beginning chapters will be on my blog, just scroll down, this series is the only thing i have posted, i'll be adding the part links in tomorrow as i want to go to bed hehe

i love u guys so much :) pls make sure you drink enough water today!

this is a very long chapter by the way so pls prepare yourself for potential spelling mistakes!

alright... away we goooo!!!

As you sprinted down the corridor, it felt like it was never-ending. You were almost out of breath as you reached the scene, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you stared up in horror at the second bloody message. It eerily read: 'Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever'.

"Oh my…" You breathed out shakily; the loudening sound of a crowd of hurried footsteps began to get closer and closer to you. Looking to the right, you spotted the other teachers - McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, Flitwick, Sinistra, Snape and the caretaker, Filch. They all looked as distressed as you did, even Snape who is usually devoid of any emotion.

"The heir of Slytherin has left another message," McGonagall stated apprehensively, gesturing to the defamed wall with an outstretched hand as the other teachers gathered around, all sporting the same worrisome look. "Our worst fear has been realised. A student has been taken by the monster, into the Chamber itself." The Head of Gryffindor's voice was shaky, it sounded like she was about to burst into tears. You glanced at her with sad eyes, and she beckoned you to come to her with her other arm. You padded over to McGonagall as she laid an arm around your shoulders comfortingly, her thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

Being the youngest of the teachers, you were taking this rather hard. Most of all, you were worried for the rest of your students. "What do we do Minerva?" You asked quietly after a moment of silence as the group of you stared at the wall in disbelief and what felt like denial. "The students must be sent home… I'm afraid this is the end of Hogwarts." She announced, her brows knitting together in a dramatic show of despair. You felt your stomach drop. The end of Hogwarts?…

Before you could get another word in, a familiar, cocky face appeared. "So sorry. Dozed off. What have I missed?" Lockhart asked over-enthusiastically with his signature million-dollar grin, bouncing on his heels as he clasped his hands together behind his back. You clenched your jaw in anger at him, your eyes narrowing into an unwelcoming glare as you stared at the man.

"A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Your moment has come at last." Snape said bitterly, standing tall.

"My m-moment?" Lockhart replied, stumbling over his words like he'd just seen a ghost.

"Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?" Snape quipped as the speed of sound, his tongue laced with venom. You glanced at Severus for a quick moment, your stomach doing somersaults. Instantly, Lockhart's grin disappeared. You swallowed thickly as he dared to glance at you, his mouth parting slightly in shock. Your jaw clenched again as you shuffled in your spot, resisting the urge to curse the man. McGonagall's comforting hand tightened around your shoulder.

"That's settled. We'll leave you to deal with the monster, Gilderoy." McGonagall said matter-of-factly. "Your skills, after all, are legend." She added, not hiding the smugness in her voice at all. The corner of your lip quirked up the tiniest amount at her words. Lockhart's face was the pure definition of shock for the last few seconds before he quickly returned to his fake, proud grin.

"Very well. Uh, I'll just be in my office getting err… getting ready!" Lockhart announced, feigning excitement. Did he think you were stupid? All of you could see through his brave act and see his true cowardly self. As you all stared at him, he spun on his heel and turned around, almost sprinting back in the direction of his office. You couldn't help but scoff quietly as he turned the corner, rolling your eyes at his pathetic self as you looked back at the message messily scrawled out on the wall. Your stomach twisted at the thought of one of your students being brutally slaughtered at the hands of a beast. It felt as if someone had just pushed you from a great height.

"Who is it that the monster's taken, Minerva?" Madam Pomfrey asked with inquisitive yet cautious eyes, pulling you from your thoughts. Professor McGonagall looked away for a moment, blinking slowly.

"Ginny Weasley." McGonagall replied gravely, sharing a glance with Madam Pomfrey before walking away, presumably back to her office. You'd been nurturing your Mandrakes with precision, but this whole debacle spurred you on to do as much as you could, even if that meant destroying yourself in the process. The students of Hogwarts' safety meant the world to you. You couldn't imagine the fear that was probably streaming through them all right now.

Ever since you were called by McGonagall to the second-floor corridor to witness the final bloody message scrawled against the wall, you'd been awake almost twenty-four hours a day; sleeping in your greenhouse at your desk to ensure you were there the exact moment your Mandrakes were ready to be stewed and made into juice for the Mandrake Restoration potion. Dark purple rings had appeared around your eyes as you worked day and night, fertilising, feeding and watering the Mandrakes, guaranteeing that the they were at their best when the time came. The threat of more students being attacked or snatched kept you awake most of the time.

Nothing of the sort had ever happened at Hogwarts before, and deep down, you were a little terrified. Though you refused to show it, it would only scare the students more. You had also heard through the grapevine that Hagrid had been arrested on suspicion of opening the Chamber of Secrets, which broke your heart. That man would never do such a thing, and you were positive he was being set up for it. It was a blistery, cold and frosty winter night and you had nodded off again whilst caring for the Mandrakes; your head drooped in the cradle of your arms on top of the table with your hair falling over your arms like a waterfall. You stirred awake, and it was a brutal war to open your eyes as the chilling air bit at your bare arms like a rabid dog. Shivering, you quickly blinked, rubbing your sore eyes with tired fingers, a gasp leaving your lips as you laid your eyes upon the scene in front of you. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Before you had fallen asleep, the Mandrakes were in their own pots. Now, they had moved into each others. They'd finally matured! All those early morning and late nights you'd slaved away had paid off. Your chest was bursting with pride as you grinned to yourself. It was a bittersweet moment for sure.

"Yes!" You exclaimed, the rush of excitement fuelling you to stand up from your chair. You clasped your hands together eagerly, staring at the nesting Mandrakes like a baby who just took their first steps. You were so proud.

Humming to yourself, you stood there blankly. If you were being honest, you had to wrack your brain for a moment as the lack of sleep was starting to get to you - your brain was a little foggy. Yet, you pushed through it, retrieving your wand from your robes, but to your surprise it wasn't there. Your brows furrowed as you looked down at your empty pockets. It must have fallen out when you nodded off. You bent down quickly, scanning underneath the table with tired eyes, and sure enough, there was your wand. Sitting all by it's lonesome. You retrieved it with nimble fingers and stood back up with a whoosh, aiming your wand at the root of a Mandrake in front of you. "Diffindo." You spoke clearly, flicking your wand in a up-and-down motion, watching carefully as a thin white light severed off a thick piece of Mandrake root. It fell and landed on the table with a muffled thud. Quickly retrieving it, you placed it into a dark brown woven bag to the left of you, sealing it closed with the ivory-coloured drawstrings. Now, it was time to pay the Bat a visit. Hopefully he didn't cause you much… stress.

You sighed quietly, turning around with a whirl to have a quick look in a old, dusty mirror that had been overgrown by some vines of ivy. Merlin, you had really been neglecting yourself. You grimaced as you stared at your unrecognisable reflection, noticing the purple circles around your eyes. "Yeesh," you grit your teeth, fingers coming up to trace the lines forming at the end of your eyes.

It's not like you were there to impress Snape anyway, you were going there to drop off the Mandrake extracts and help him with the potion. That was it. Nothing else. Your chest tightened slightly at the thought, of course you wished it was different, but this was Professor Severus Snape you were talking about. The man was emotionless, he had no time for such childish things. A soft, strained groan slipped from your lips as you shut your eyes for a moment, just imagining what it'd be like if did feel the same way you did. Perhaps he'd make you tea in the mornings, visit you during your breaks, maybe even bring you small, meaningful gifts. Sighing defeatedly, you shook away your fantasy from your mind, slipping back into gloomy reality.

You made your way out of the greenhouse, but not before readjusting your dress and brushing through your hair with your fingers messily, a quiet 'ouch' falling from your lips as you reached a knot. Feelings or not, you wanted to at least look presentable. Falling asleep on your worktable didn't really do you any justice.

The obsidian night-sky had taken over from the blue one earlier, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful the stars looked twinkling in the sky tonight. You stopped for a moment and admired it, quickly spotting your favourite constellation, Aquila. It took you back in time for a moment, remembering the fond times you had teaching students in Astronomy. You still loved Astronomy, but Herbology is where you truly belonged.

As you bid the night a silent farewell, you carried yourself into the castle, ensuring to be as quiet as possible considering it was around eleven o'clock at night, perhaps even midnight. You hurried to the spiral staircases leading down to the dungeons, that familiar, vile damp smell hitting your nose once again. Your nose scrunched up in disgust. As you continued down the path towards Snape's classroom, you spotted it; a warm amber light flooding out from underneath the door. It wasn't exactly a surprise that he was still awake, you knew he was usually out patrolling each night to catch students out of bed past curfew. You rolled your eyes at the thought and proceeded to rap on his door with your knuckles, awaiting his response, bag in hand.

"Come in." Came an agitated voice. You cringed slightly at yourself and opened his door and wandered in. As your eyes glanced around his classroom, you were instantly transported back to the times you'd served detention in here, scribbling rather inappropriate things on scraps of parchment. Looking back to Snape, you noticed he was sat at his desk, nose deep in what you assumed to be assignments. Your stomach suddenly felt rather light.

"Hello," you said sheepishly, stopping in front of his door as you shut it behind you, "You're up late." You commented, offering him a polite smile. Severus looked up confusedly from behind his desk, his brows furrowing as he noticed it was you and not a student. As his eyes connected with yours, they sent an anxious, shivery rush through your body.

"Y/N," Severus greeted you, his face still adorned with his infamous scowl as he looked at you directly for several seconds, scrutinising you as he tried to comprehend what you were doing at his office at such an ungodly hour. "What are you doing here?"

"The Mandrakes matured," you said excitedly, holding up the bag in your hand. Snape's gaze fell to your hands, eyeing the bag with an ounce of curiosity. "We can start the potion now to cure the students." You added happily.

Severus leaned back in his chair, looking back down at the assignments in front of him. You were a little bummed that he didn't look happier. "Brilliant, you may put them here." He said blankly, patting the empty space on his desk next to his pile of assignments. After several seconds, he spoke again with a curious tone. "…You said 'we', Y/N?" He stared at you. The way he said your name made your face redden.

"Erm, yes, well, I don't want you to over-stew the Mandrake root," You said with a cheeky smile. You were trying to lighten to glum mood. It was risky but worth it. High risk, high reward, you thought. "I thought it would be best if I did for you, since I was the one that raised them." You explained, shrugging sheepishly. Severus could sense the swelling pride in your voice, but he didn't mention anything, he wasn't sure if he'd say something awful and hurt you. It was rather pleasant to see you smiling in his presence instead of the usual upset and angry side of you.

Severus sat for a moment and pondered before speaking once more. "Very well." He said, that cold tone still very present in his voice. You bit down a little too harshly on your bottom lip out of nervousness, padding forwards to set the Mandrake roots down on a desk in the middle of the classroom. As you glanced around the classroom once more, fond memories of you and your friends whispering and sneaking notes to each other in class began to flood your mind, a nostalgic smile tugging at your lips.

"Are the cauldrons still in the same place?" You asked Severus, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him.

"Yes." Was all he said, nose still buried deep in his work. You rolled your eyes softly at his ridiculous work ethic. Every time you came in this room, he was always working hard. Of course, you admired his industrious nature, but you thought he would at least give himself some leeway and put the assignments down, maybe read a book or do something a little less work-related. Though, you weren't one to judge, perhaps he enjoyed it.

"Nothing changes around here." You chuckled quietly to yourself, a small smile spreading across your face as you wandered in the direction of Snape's storage cupboards, your fingers wrapping around the handle. Pulling it open with a exhausted squeak of the old and worn hinges, you let your eyes roam over the equipment, searching for a spare cauldron. As you had your back turned, Severus sneaked a glance at you over his assignments, his eyes narrowing vaguely as he stared at you for a short moment. Before you turned back around with the cauldron in your hand, he'd already returned his gaze to his desk.

Walking back to the desk you'd chosen to stew your Mandrake root, you let your eyes flick over at Severus for a quick moment, indulging in his appearance. Your eyes lingered, and you realised you loved the way his hair fell around his pale face like a pair of old curtains, a single strand curling onto his prominent nose. A tiny, bashful smile fell on your lips as you looked back to the cauldron in your hands, stopping at the desk to place the cauldron down. Whilst you were setting it up, you kept sneaking cautious glances in the direction of the broody Potions Master, your heart beat speeding up each time your curious eyes landed on him.

You retrieved your wand from your robes and cast a spell on the cauldron, watching as water suddenly filled it three quarters of the way up. After that, you cast another spell to boil the water, your face relaxing a tad as you reached for the bag of Mandrake root to your right, opening it and retrieving said ingredient. You dropped it in the cauldron with a satisfying plop, observing it carefully. Now, you had to wait fifteen minutes for it to stew, keeping an eye out for when it turned bright green.

You looked up at Severus, who was still scratching away at assignments with his quill. "It'll be around fifteen minutes." You announced, not really expecting a reply. He merely grunted as a weak sign of acknowledgment. That was the best you were going to get currently. You sighed quietly to yourself and decided to take a stroll around his classroom to kill some time.

Heading towards the shelves of jars and containers of rather vile looking ingredients, you clasped your hands together behind your back, stopping to have a look at a jar of rat tails. You grimaced at the sight, quickly moving on to another row of less disgusting looking jarred items. A content hum left your lips as you spotted your powdered asphodel root, placed neatly in a small glass container to the right of a phial of Phoenix tears.

"I see you have a surplus of powdered asphodel root," You commented, turning around to glance at Severus, who to your surprise, was already staring at you. A flash of butterflies shot through you. "You won't need anymore for a while, then?" You cleared your throat, chewing on your bottom lip out of nervousness.

"Not until I brew another Draught of Living Death." Severus replied slowly and coldly, his eyes scrutinising you. You turned around, nodding, tearing your gaze from him, continuing to walk slowly and peek at each jar nosily.

"Do you ever miss certain students?" You asked, catching Snape off-guard. His brows furrowed at you slightly, partially confused at your question.

"Not particularly," He replied slowly again, his mind racing through countless ideas as to why you'd ask such a question. "If that's your way of asking if I miss having you as a student, my answer may hurt your feelings, Y/N." Severus's lips quirked up at the corners into a small, reluctant smirk. In lieu of the familiar rush of irritation surging through you at his comment, you instead found yourself smiling. You were a little surprised at yourself, you half-heartedly expected to take offense at his dig. Severus was surprised at your reaction too, but he did not show it.

"Understandable," You laughed quietly; the butterflies fluttering like a storm in your stomach. "I wasn't the best student for you, if my memory serves me right." Another soft laugh left you. Severus felt himself almost smile at the pretty sound that slipped from your lips. It was a little jarring to see such a change in character in you. He'd prepared himself for you to yell at him again, or at least insult him back.

"No." He agreed, still staring at you. "However, you weren't the worst."

"Who was?" You looked at him this time, genuinely curious. Severus grunted at your question.

"I believe you know. Or, perhaps, can guess at best."

A cheeky smirk perked up on your face. "Benjamin Bluewater?" You stared at Snape, waiting for his answer. He only tilted his head at you, raising his brows a tad. You took that as a yes from him. "Yeah, he was a menace." You hummed amusedly, thinking back to the times Bluewater had caused Snape grief. One time, the boy had set off a rather foul-smelling prank in Snape's classroom, rendering it useless for that period. Snape almost had the boy's head that day for that mischievous mishap. Bluewater was insanely lucky to have another teacher walk by, diffusing the situation.

"Yes," Snape sighed exasperatedly, leaning back in his desk chair. For the first time, you felt comfortable in his presence. It wasn't tense, nor uncomfortable, and you weren't on edge, waiting for an insult. "I don't think I've ever met someone so… distasteful." You frowned at him, obviously in disagreement.

"Lockhart, surely?" You offered. Severus cocked his brow and tilted his head, nodding frankly at you, as if to say 'Yes, that's true'. You laughed and turned around, starting to head back towards your cauldron as it was starting to hiss. "Yeah, he's insufferable." You said as you reached your cauldron and retrieved your wand, using it to stir the stew.

There was a few seconds of silence between you two, only the hissing and bubbling of the cauldron echoing in the classroom. "I'll be sad to see him go." Snape said finally. Your head whipped up at him, a look of shock and confusion on your face. "I won't have the honour of coming across you threatening him in a corridor late at night anymore." He added, his lips quirking up slightly again. A dry laugh left your lips as you turned back to your Mandrake stew. "It was always a thrilling experience each time I neared a corner in a corridor when patrolling at night."

"Funny." You scrunched your nose up, trying to hide the amused smile that was painted on your face. With your attention on something else, Severus couldn't help but let his eyes linger on you for a few more seconds, silently admiring the way your hair fell over your shoulders. "I think it's done, Severus."

"You think or you know it's done?" He quipped, standing slowly to walk over to you, his majestic cloak billowing out behind him. He halted himself beside you, peering into the cauldron.

"I know it's done." You rolled your eyes at him, earning an eyebrow raise from the Potions Master. You had to bite back a smile. "Would you like me to do the potion as well?" You asked jokingly, daring to glance up into his dark, almost black eyes. That was a mistake, your cheeks flared up immediately. You quickly averted your gaze back to the cauldron, hoping he didn't notice.

"I believe I am the Potion Master of this school," Severus glared at you like he was offended you'd even offer that. You tried to hold back your laugh. He was so demanding at times. "Considering your… messy history with potions, I think it would be best if I handled this part." He added with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"You make a great point, Severus." You rolled your eyes and stepped back, awaiting instructions. "Can I at least get the ingredients?" You asked eagerly, sounding like a child. You cringed a little at yourself. "Very well." Severus sighed, his eyes still glued to the cauldron. As he finished speaking, you spun on your heel and headed to where you were strolling earlier. You paused for a moment, realising that you had no idea what the ingredients were. Before you could ask, Severus was already on the case. "Dandelion root, Phoenix tears and purified water." He listed, almost tiredly. You blushed furiously at the fact you'd embarrassed yourself yet again in front of Snape.

"Okay…" You trailed off, eyes frantically searching the shelves. My asphodel root was next the Phoenix tears, you thought, shuffling to the right slightly to reach for the phial of Phoenix tears. Dandelion root must be placed with the other Herbology based ingredients, surely? you wondered. Sure enough, you were right, your eyes landed on the jar of dandelion roots; hand reaching out to grab it. Erm, purified water, purified water… you thought, eyes scanning the shelves, quickly stopping as you spotted it pushed behind a container of fish eyes. "Ew…" You muttered, pushing the fish eyes aside to grab the purified water. Severus had the tiniest amused smile on his face as he watched you search the shelves for the Mandrake Restorative Draught ingredients, he was thoroughly entertained.

As you turned around to look back at Snape, ingredients in hand, your eyes caught his, and you noticed the smile on his lips. It almost made your knees buckle, you'd never seen him smile like that before, let alone at you. Immediately, the smile was wiped from his lips as your eyes connected. It made you a little sad that he felt he had to hide his true emotions from you.

"You are an expert at dawdling, Y/N." Severus commented, his eyes returning to their usual cold and harsh nature.

"Well, not that it's obvious to you, but I don't tend to come in here very much anymore." You quipped back, arching your brow at his words. It was intriguing to you to see just how fast he could just switch expressions. Snape offered you a condescending gaze as he brushed off your sassy reply. "Here, I've got everything you need." You said, placing the jars and vials on the desk in front of the two of you. "Brilliant." Was all Severus said as he barely acknowledged you, his shoulder-length mop of raven-black hair acting like a shield to his face. He was much taller than you, so you couldn't see past it whilst standing beside him.

"Can I watch?" You asked sheepishly, making Snape turn around to look at you. His brows knitted together, observing you silently. With a soft sigh, he turned back around to the cauldron and proceeded to pick up the jar of dandelion roots.

"If you must." Severus replied, a hint of curiosity in his voice. A small, appreciative smile fell on your lips. He glanced at you once more from beside you, sending butterflies soaring through you. You focused your attention onto his hands, watching how his quick and skilful fingers opened each jar gracefully, preparing them for each step. You watched as Severus took a pinch of the dandelion root, gently adding it into the cauldron, careful not to disturb the Mandrake root. After that, he grasped the vial of Phoenix tears with a cautious hand and poured it into the mixture, his eyes lighting up at the bubbles that started to form on top of the potion. Severus reached for the final ingredient of purified water. Dropping it in slowly, the mixture quickly shifted to a muted tone of green.

"Now, let it simmer for a minute or so, then stir it once clockwise, and then twice anticlockwise." Severus instructed sternly, picking up the empty jars and containers.

"Right," You nodded, a little nervous. You couldn't screw it up, right? Stepping forwards, you watched Severus stalk away to the shelves, glass jars and containers in hand. You looked back to the potion and waited for a minute and a bit, before using your wand to stir the green mixture once clockwise, and then twice anti-clockwise. A soft blow of air left your lips as a sign of relief.

"Well done. If only you could have been this competent when you were a student." Snape said sarcastically, peering into the cauldron, his brows raising in approval as he threw a side-ways glance at you. You rolled your eyes at him, fighting the urge to say something back. "Keep rolling your eyes, perhaps you'll find a brain back there." Snape quipped, obviously growing tired of your eye-rolls. It was impossibly hard not to roll your eyes at him right then and there, it was so fitting to do so. "I believe it's ready." He said, nodding once. A happy, proud and prideful grin broke out on your face as your stared at the draught, a sense of accomplishment washing over your small form. As Severus glanced down at you again, he couldn't help but stare at your happy little face, an odd and unusual sensation stirring in his chest. He swiftly turned away from you without saying anything else and headed back to his desk, leaving you alone, hiding his face as the smallest of smiles picked at the corners of his lips.

You had brought the draught to Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary at once. She was ever so grateful and thankful towards you, however, you were rather adamant that it was Severus she should be thanking. "Thank you so much, Professor L/N!" Madam Pomfrey cried with the Mandrake Restorative Draught in her hands, a gasp of relief leaving her lips as she lead you around the corner of a curtain, your body freezing as your eyes fell on a Petrified student. It was Hermione Granger.

"You should really be thanking Severus," You chuckled awkwardly, clasping your hands in front of your hips. "It wouldn't have been made without him, considering he is the Potions Master after all." You said, a hint of a laugh at the end of your sentence. "I only grew the Mandrakes." You added.

"Of course, but the Mandrake is the most important ingredient, do you not agree?" She said, turning to glance at you as she administered the potion to the skin of a Petrified Hermione. It stinged you a little to see a student of yours frozen and paralysed, almost lifeless. So you looked away, your eyes finding an interest in the floor.

"I suppose, but I wouldn't have been able to brew it myself, even Severus himself said I shouldn't." You hummed. Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes softly at you. You pursed your lips.

"Don't believe anything that gloomy bat says, Professor L/N, you're more than capable of anything if you put your mind to it." She said sternly, her long dress gliding across the floor elegantly as she moved away from Hermione and to the next student behind the next curtain to your left. She left you alone to your thoughts, and perhaps she was right. Maybe you were capable of brewing the potion, but even if you were, you would still rather have Severus do it, especially since it was an urgent requirement. It had to be perfect.

A few days had passed since you had distributed the antidote to Madam Pomfrey and today was Friday, the last day of term for the students before they left Hogwarts to return home to their families for Christmas. Mixed emotions stirred within you as you sat at the table with the other professors, your eyes glazing over the House tables sat in front of you. This term had been full of unusual and unexpected moments, and you were hoping it would simmer down the next term. You weren't too sure whether you'd survive anything like that again. In fact, you were almost positive.

"Hello, and good evening to all," Dumbledore announced, wandering up to his beloved golden Owl Lecturn, his long and worn fingers latching around the wings. "Before we begin to indulge in this excellent feast, let us have a round of applause for Professor L/N," The Headmaster said, almost making you snap your neck from the speed you looked up. You were not expecting Dumbledore to publicly thank you. "Madam Pomfrey, whose Mandrake juice has been so successfully administered to all who had been petrified." He finished, and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. You didn't do well being in the spotlight, let alone being thanked by the entire school for something so miniscule in your eyes. You smiled sheepishly and gave a gracious nod at everyone who suddenly erupted into a chorus of cheers and applause. Looking to your right, you caught the eyes of Severus, who, to your surprise, was gazing at you proudly, a small, hesitant smile on his face. You smiled back at him and nodded once, resisting the grin that was itching to break out.

"Also, in light of recent events, as a school treat, all exams have been cancelled." Dumbledore added, which encouraged an even louder round of applause and further cheers. You allowed yourself to grin this time, relishing in the happiness of the students and teachers surrounding you. It was such a pleasant atmosphere, and all you could feel spreading through you was a homely-like warmth. Hogwarts had always been your home at heart, but this seemed to cement it.

Suddenly, the cheering and clapping ceased as the doors creaked open, revealing a very tall, very large bearded man with long, frizzy chocolate hair. He sported some raggedy matching brown clothes, and from this you could easily guess it was Hagrid. Mainly from his sheer height, but the beard and hair was also a dead giveaway. "Sorry I'm late," he announced, glancing around awkwardly, "the owl that delivered my release papers got all lost and confused. Some ruddy bird called Errol." He said, widening his eyes in a tired, yet joking manner. You couldn't help but smile at his comment, and a few quiet giggles fell from some first and second year students.

You leaned to Flitwick who was seated beside you. "Do you know who's owl that is?" You whispered curiously, glancing between the shorter Charms Master and Hagrid. Flitwick looked at you with an amused smile.

"Ron Weasley's owl, of course." He chuckled softly, returning his attention to the scene unfolding in front of him. You hummed. Of course it was, the bird matched his owner very well, you thought, another joyous smile gracing your lips.

"Without further ado," Dumbledore's raspy, wise voice boomed through the Great Hall, capturing everyone's attention. "Let us begin!" He cheered, a wide grin spreading across his bearded cheeks.

Instantaneously, plates upon plates of delicious, mouth-watering food materialised right in front of your eyes. Glorious and juicy roast turkey adorned with all the helpings sat temptingly in front of your placemat, a bowl of golden and crisp roasties to the right of it. Steaming hot green veggies sat to the left of the turkey, and you just couldn't wait to dig in, your stomach was growling like a chained up wolf. You let out a soft gasp at the beautiful sight, your eyes twinkling with delight. After all this chaos in just a few months time, you were all well-deserving of such gorgeous food.

"The food looks absolutely delicious, Dumbledore, thank you." You poked your head past Flitwick, looking at the older wizard with a grin, who had settled himself down in the Head seat. He casted his wrinkled, yet sparkling and wise eyes to you, and nodded graciously. "You are most welcome, Professor L/N." He smiled politely. You returned his smile without a beat and turned back to your plate, using the supplied silverware and utensils to serve yourself some of the rich and brilliant food in front of you.

Conversations and cheerful laughter surrounded you, and you couldn't have felt happier than right now. Whilst chewing on a piece of asparagus, you sneaked a glance at where Severus was sat, however, you found he was not there anymore. A sad frown pulled your brows together, and you swiftly glanced around the hall for a tall, black figure, but nothing caught your eye. You swallowed your mouthful and placed your utensils down on the plate with a soft clink. You turned to Flitwick again.

"Did Severus leave?" You asked quietly, careful to keep your voice down.

Flitwick turned to you, munching away happily on a hot roastie. He nodded before swallowing. "Yes, he tends to avoid these sorts of things. Each year he never fails to leave right before the big feast." The Charms professor explained. A sad knot twisted in your stomach at the thought of him being alone on a such a happy occasion. Though, it wasn't all too surprising. He does seem like the type to prefer to be alone instead of spending it with people he… works with. You pondered on your thoughts for a moment, before deciding to stand up.

"Excuse me." You smiled at the shorter professor beside you, grabbing your plate and loading it with some extra turkey meat, potatoes and some vegetables. Flitwick looked up at you with another mouthful, a little curious as he chewed and watched you get extra helpings with inquisitive eyes. With a full plate in hand, you quickly downed your goblet of wine. Flitwick didn't press you for answers to the nosy questions that were circulating inside his brilliant mind as he watched you head towards the door to the right of the dinner table. You gave him a small, coy smile and bid him a silent goodbye, wandering to the dungeons.

As you were walking in the direction of where Snape lurked, you got those same doubts again, wondering whether he would actually appreciate this act, or be appalled by it. You hoped it'd be the former, but you weren't very confident in that. Swallowing the bubbling anxiety in the back of your throat, you pressed on down the corridors, finding that familiar spiral staircase. You cautiously walked down it, a little wobbly from balancing the plate of hot food and also from drinking that goblet of wine in one go - you weren't a common drinker so in hindsight you probably should have thought that silly idea through a little more. As you reached the bottom of the staircase, you saw that same warm, amber hue of candlelight flooding out from underneath the door of Snape's office. Your heart began to pound in your ears as you neared his door; knees trembling a little bit.

You knocked on his door with your free hand and waited patiently for a reply.

"Come in." Severus said, sighing. You could sense the muted irritation in his tone, your fingers reaching reluctantly for his doorknob. You grasped it and turned it and opened the door. As you sauntered in, Severus didn't bother to look up, his eyes and nose still buried in what looked to be more… assignments. Does the man never give himself time to relax?

"Hi." You squeaked out awkwardly, leaning back against his door, the plate of food still held carefully in your hands. Severus's head shot up almost instantly at the sound of your voice, his brows furrowing together in what you hoped to be confusion rather than annoyance. "Erm, I brought you some food."

"I'm not hungry." Severus protested with a grunt, looking back down to the assignment in his hand. He must be lying, since you don't recall seeing him at breakfast, nor lunch.

"When did you last eat, Severus?" You asked, shuffling in your spot, attempting to hide the caring tone that accidentally slipped from your lips with a pathetic cough. Snape's brows furrowed deeper, a dark crease forming between them.

"What do you want, Y/N?" Severus groaned, his eyes glued to his desk still. You cleared your throat, demanding his full attention. A deep, exasperated sigh left his lips as he reluctantly tore his eyes away from his work, meeting your concerned ones. "Why does it matter when I last ate?"

"Because human beings need to eat." You arched a brow at him. He didn't seem to appreciate the tone you took with him. "I'm not a normal human being, Y/N." He blinked at you.

"Normal or not, you still need some sort of sustenance." You said matter-of-factly, tilting your head at him, silently ending the debate between you two. You padded towards his desk, pulling up a chair from the side of the room at the same time. You were definitely sure that the wine was encouraging your boldness, you even noticed the slight surprise in Snape's eyes as he continued to stare at you. "Will you eat, please?" You asked with a soft sigh, plopping yourself down in the wooden chair with a muted thud. You held the plate of food out in front of you, almost shoving it in Severus's face. His lips twisted for a quick moment, thinking.

"If it means you leave faster, then yes." His eyes narrowed at you like blunt daggers. The hostility was there, but it wasn't intended to be hurtful. Severus hesitantly took the plate from your hands, and slid the assignments out of the way on his desk, sitting the plate down in the middle.

"Oh!" You exclaimed softly, glancing at your dirty cutlery. "I almost forgot. Scourgify." You pulled out your wand and flicked it at the silverware, watching happily as the muck and grime dissipated from it like ice melting under the sun. Severus looked at you with suspicious eyes, scrutinising you, attempting to comprehend why you had paid him of all people a visit. "How come you left so early?" You queried, sitting back in your chair with your hands in your lap.

"Dinner parties aren't my forte." He replied, spiking a piece of turkey breast with the fork. A small smile painted your lips as you watched him place it in his mouth, his eyes lighting up ever so slightly at the divine taste that painted his tongue. "Perhaps I was mistaken…" He mumbled, glancing down at the plate of turkey, potatoes and green veggies, looking rather awestruck due to the glorious taste that was exploding in his mouth as of right now.

A proud smile slipped onto your lips as you looked away from Severus for a moment, letting your eyes wander around his dimly lit, and rather glum looking office. The bricks were a dark, worn black, with a beige cement sitting between them. He had shelves upon shelves of books, about everything you could ever imagine. Name it, and it's most likely there. So, he was a book nerd, you thought, smiling to yourself. Then, your eyes fell on the most beautiful record player you'd ever seen. Obviously, it was all black to match the whole aesthetic of Snape's office. It sat prettily upon a table in the corner, a small collection of well-kept records were leant up against it.

"You listen to music?" You questioned, a dry laugh escaping your lips as you stood up, drawn to the beautiful object.

"Why is that a surprise?" Snape asked, a little offended that you were shocked by such a revelation.

"Well, you don't exactly give me a music enthusiast vibe," You chuckled softly, glancing at Severus with glossy eyes. The wine had gone to your head slightly. "I can't imagine you listening to music." You added, allowing your chuckle to burst into a soft, hushed laugh. Severus rolled his eyes at you and turned back to his desk, shovelling another mouthful of turkey into his mouth, picking up an assignment with his other hand.

You turned your attention back to the record player and let your fingers trace the beautiful grains and grooves of the wood, the pads of your index and middle finger ending up on his record collection. You let your nosiness kick in as you flicked through them, spotting some seventies rock bands, classical compilations, and… Frank Sinatra?

"Frank Sinatra?" You queried with a curious, amused smile, glancing at Severus over your shoulder. Butterflies exploded like storm in your stomach when you found him already staring at you, though the look on his face wasn't what you wanted. He looked a little miffed. "I like Frank Sinatra." You quickly added, wanting to avoid any sort of conflict. You glanced back to where your fingers where dipping into his record collection, a furious pink blush tinting your pale cheeks. As you slipped your hand away, the end of your finger caught the play button, and suddenly the room was filled with a dark, melancholic and slow rock song. Your eyes widened in panic as you tried frantically to turn it off, however, nothing was working.

"Leave it, I… like it." Came a voice from behind you, immediately halting you in your desperate, albeit poor attempts to pause it. Severus was still sat at his desk, but he was sat back now, a little more relaxed.

"It's nice," you commented quietly, after a beat of silence, braving a look at Severus. His eyes were glued to his desk, the plate of turkey and vegetables pushed messily to the side. He seemed to be battling something. You swallowed thickly and sauntered over to him, your heels clacking against the brick floor. You stopped in front of him and held out your hand. "…Dance with me?" You asked, voice still quiet. The Potions Master looked up at you for several seconds, his harsh, dark eyes flicking to your open palm. Your heart was thumping so loud in your ears you were worried you wouldn't hear his answer.

Luckily for you, he didn't give you one. He just plainly accepted your hand, standing slowly, almost reluctantly. You backed away from his desk, one step at a time, his large, calloused and cold hand still in yours. You stopped in the middle of the room, gently pulling Severus closer to you. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked up to meet his cold gaze, placing his other hand on your hip. You began to sway side to side to the slow beat of the song, his fingers flinching slightly as you moved. Severus found himself lost in your eyes as you stared up at him. He wondered why someone like you had offered to dance with someone like him; it felt wrong almost, a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin, good and bad. As the chorus got going, a bright grin broke out on your face as Severus lifted his arm up to twirl you around, the skirt of your dress blooming outwards like a flower. His chest tightened as you stumbled slightly, your hand slipping onto his chest to steady yourself.

"Sorry." you muttered almost inaudibly, looking up at Snape through your lashes bashfully. He didn't reply, he only danced with you more, and you saw his the corner of his lips quirk up in a small, almost miniscule smile. Your heart fluttered at the sight and your smile was back on your face.

The two of you continued to dance carelessly to the song playing in the background, and any worries and anxieties had been long forgotten ever since the two of you touched palms. You found yourself getting lost in his eyes as Severus twirled you around again, a loud laugh leaving your lips as he brought you back towards him, his eyes half-lidded with admiration. You lifted your hand up this time and attempted to twirl Snape around. He almost fought against it, but the sad pout on your lips ultimately broke him, and so he let you twirl him around.

Severus didn't know what he was feeling as his hands found your waist, his stomach was in knots and his chest was tingly, it wasn't normal, and it worried him slightly. But his buzzing, worrisome thoughts were soon calmed the moment his dark, troubled eyes met with your bright, carefree ones. The sound of your laugh made him feel things he hadn't felt in years, and your beaming, gleeful grin sent shivers down his cruel spine. It felt so wrong, but it felt so right having you in his arms; having you this close to him. A few months ago, he wouldn't have dared to dream of feeling so… vulnerable. And with a Hufflepuff no less. Snape had always despised them, he'd believed them to be the weakest house, but your utter resilient yet soft nature had totally swayed him. He'd be lying if he said your beauty hadn't completely captured his attention too, though he would never ever admit that.

You reminded him slightly of Lily, and that's what frightened him. He let himself fall in love once, and he wasn't sure he was going to let himself do it again. Actually, he was adamant. He couldn't bear to deal with that pain again, it almost killed him. He wouldn't be able to stomach seeing you lifeless on the floor, your eyes dead and lifeless. Your life was not worth risking for his sake of happiness. Suddenly, Severus switched emotions like the speed of sound. He immediately released you from his grasp, you grin and laughter silencing immediately. It felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart the second your laughter ceased.

"Get out." He said coldly, pushing you backwards. Your brows furrowed at his words, confusion painting your face.

"…What?" You blinked at him, trying to comprehend what he'd just said.

"I said get out." Snape seethed. His tone was angry, relentless, cruel, uncaring. Before, it felt like you'd just opened another door with him, inviting you into his world, and then you'd been kicked out and sent to a different one.

"But… Severus…" You swallowed thickly, your throat tightening as tears began to burn your eyes. Was it something you said? Something you did?

Little did you know, it was something you did. You'd made him happy, you'd made him feel human again. After so long of shutting off his feelings and building a fortress around his emotions, encasing them in metres and metres of thick, impenetrable concrete, you'd broken through so easily, and it terrified him. His mind instantly shut off, almost like a defence mechanism the moment it felt anything other than hatred or resentment for another person.

Gods, it fucking hurt to see you cry because of him, but he couldn't show it, he refused to let you get hurt, or worse, killed because of his own selfish thoughts. And so he turned his back on you, his black cloak acting like a shield as he leant against his desk with white knuckles.

It felt like everything you'd done to get to know Severus had just been broken down a million times and thrown back in your face. It felt like… betrayal, almost, but you weren't sure why.

Hot tears were streaming down your face now as you stared at his back. He's shut you out. That's it, all those days, months you spent trying to get to know him went to waste. You sucked in a shaky breath and turned around, rushing to the door. You hesitated for moment, glancing over your shoulder. You'd hoped he might've changed his mind, but Snape still had his back turned to you, his head dropped in front of him. A strangled cry left your throat uncontrollably as you stomped angrily out of his office, wiping away your tears with harsh fingers as you stormed back to your quarters. Thank Merlin it was Christmas break now. Perhaps it was for the best.

part 6

ok pls dont hate me for the end lmaooo i just couldnt help myself LOL </3

let me know if you enjoyed this chapter, the next movie i'll focus on is prisoner of azkaban aka my favourite hehe, however that wont be for another few chapters i think. another update wont be due until tuesday or wednesday <3

thank you for all your support i honestly dont deserve it :') <33

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

@freshmoneyalmondathlete

@sonoluvr22