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katiexpunk · 5 months

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Sex On Fire, Part 1 | Pairing Firefighter!Joel Miller X Fem!Reader

Series Summary: You're a country girl in the big city, thanks to your generous aunt. You expected to have adventures your first year in New York, but what you didn't expect was for your hot, firefighter neighbor, Joel, to be part of them. Part 1 Summary: You move to New York, after a little coaxing from your aunt. You meet your new neighbor, Joel, and quickly learn he's a Captain with the NYFD and good with his hands. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word Count: ~6.7K Warnings: Sexual tension, sexual tension, sexual tension. This one is dripping in it. No age gap specified. No explicit smut (yet, there's uh...gonna be a lot in part 2), but a nice lead up to it in the end that will probably blue ball you. Groping. Alcohol. Hardcore flirting. Fleetwood Mac, The Rolling Stones, and Kings of Leon song references. Uniform kink. Joel has a hard on for seeing reader in his shirt. Reader's mom has passed. Texas/small town vibes. New York City. There are no specific descriptors for reader, except that she has hair. Ya'll, these two are just down for each other so fucking bad it's not even funny. Authors Note: This one is for my darling moot @darkheartgatita. Pia, thanks for putting Firefighter!Joel into my brain. I hope you enjoy. As always, thank you to my Slutty, Smutty, Sister @sydneyinacoma who inspires me every day and shares her filthy thoughts on the reg. And to everyone who gives my little blog love -- I fucking love you all so much. Part 2, Fall and Winter, will drop next Saturday.

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S P R I N G Spring blooms, bringing with it a new beginning for you. Of all the places you’d thought you would be, New York was not one of them.

Life back in Texas wasn't terrible, a bit dull sometimes, but not awful.

Yet, in the mundane moments, your mind often drifted to daydreams – visions of swapping your Levi's for a sleek black dress and trading quiet farmland for the lively hum of city bars. You’d think of Samantha from Sex and the City sitting on your porch at sunset, drinking Bud Light, wishing your fairy godmother would appear and magically turn it into a dry Martini.

That was until three weeks ago, when your rich aunt, visiting from New York, decided to sprinkle a bit of magic into your life.

“I’m gonna move to Italy for a while,” she casually said over family dinner as if she was just announcing that she was going to the store for milk. You should have been surprised, but she’s always been the kind to never stick around for too long. Single and child-free, she’s spent her adult life dancing to her free-spirited rhythm, bouncing around from one place to the next. Not because she had to, but because she could. You, on the other hand, were the total opposite. After your mom passed away, leaving the cocoon of the familiar felt like too much. Despite your aunt's protests and encouragement to just go, you resisted, not wanting to leave behind your dad and the comfortable life you'd known. But if there's one thing you've learned about your aunt, it's that she's relentless – and yanking you out of your comfort zone was precisely what she wanted, and she had just the plan to do it.

She handed you the keys to her Lower East Side apartment, turning your once silly little daydreams into a reality. “Sweetie, you need this – you’re meant for so much more, your dad will be fine. Please go,” she encouraged.

Despite your initial reluctance, you caved, and before you knew it, you were on a plane bound for JFK.

++++ You feel like a small fish in a big pond as you navigate the city. Trying to figure out the subway turns into a whole saga of you getting lost more than once. You eventually find the right borough, but not without a fair share of unhelpful people brushing you off along the way. Yep, you're definitely not in Texas anymore.

While walking through the city, it hits you that a new pair of shoes is in order; something made clear to you by the little blister on the back of your heel that’s screaming at you. Despite the annoyance, you’re enjoying the walk to the apartment, your new home. The city's buzzing with life, and even the faint smell of urine in the air doesn't bother you. It's a wild, trippy feeling to be in the city, to feel like the main character of your own story.

You grab your phone, itching to double-check the building your aunt texted and ensure you have the right address. Remembering her advice about the unassuming exterior but spectacular view, you get ready for the big reveal. The key affixed to a keychain with a little apple on it meets the lock, and as you turn it, the door swings open, revealing a spacious wooden staircase.

As you step inside, you notice there's a bit of mail scattered on the slightly dusty floor. You collect the envelopes and magazines with your aunt's name on them and neatly stack the other pieces for Joel Miller into a pile on the bottom step.

After climbing the – Jesus, really fucking narrow – stairs, you're faced with doors opposite each other. While a brief doubt nudges you to recheck the apartment number, your gut tells you that the door with the welcome mat showing lemons and a pot of fake flowers is the one — a stark difference from its neighbor with a simple grey mat and no decor. Trusting your instincts, you decide that the lively entrance is the one.

As you step inside, you're greeted by a cozy space that, despite its age, radiates warmth and character. The walls are adorned with paintings that seem to tell stories of bygone eras, while rays of sunlight filter through the window, revealing glimpses of the bustling cityscape below.

Though small, the apartment is meticulously decorated, each corner telling a tale of adventures and cultural escapades. Remnants of your aunt’s travels, collected with care, add a touch of global flair to the modest space. Posters from Broadway plays hang proudly on the walls, as do family pictures. It’s lived-in; the kind of lived-in that feels comfy and embraces you like a warm hug.

You look at the frames on the wall and pause when you see one of your favorites – a photo of you as a little girl, smushed between your mom and your aunt, a cake three sizes bigger than your tiny head lit up with birthday candles in front of you. You can't help but trace the edges of the frame with your fingertips, connecting with the warmth radiating from your mother's beaming smile. Miss you, mom escapes your lips as your eyes linger on the photograph for a heartbeat longer before the rest of the room demands your attention.

In the compact kitchen, a handwritten note from your aunt beckons, strategically placed beside a bottle of wine on top of a stack of takeout menus. Her words resonate with warmth and encouragement. "Welcome to your new home! I am so proud of you for taking me up on my offer. Disregard the bedroom chaos—I started painting the walls but didn't quite finish before taking off. Feel free to pick up where I left off if the mood strikes. And if you ever need a hand with anything, Joel Miller across the way is a nice guy. I've already told him that you’ll be staying for a while, or who knows, maybe forever. Love you!" The paper carries the unmistakable fragrance of her perfume, and a smile graces your face after you finish reading it.

Setting the heartfelt note aside, your attention shifts to the menu for Sang Garden, a vibrant pink post-it exclaiming, "Right down the street! Super yummy!" Hunger gnaws at your stomach; the last meal was a distant memory from this morning, and you're ravenous. Without hesitation, you dial the number on the menu, your choice a steadfast favorite: orange chicken. “10 minutes,” the older lady on the phone tells you, not bothering to say goodbye before hanging up. Huh, efficient, you think.

As the aroma of anticipation fills the air, you finish unpacking your suitcase and weave through your new space until your food is ready. Only having to go down a flight of stairs and less than a block down the street to pick it up is a new feeling for you. If you wanted something like this at home you’d have to drive at least 20 minutes to pick it up.

You finish the entirety of the meal within minutes curled up on the couch, Sex and the City on the T.V.. Your aunt was right, it’s good. Probably the best orange chicken you’ve ever had in your entire life; just the right amount of zest and sweetness. You can already tell you’ll be a regular. Everyone always talks about the pizza in New York, but nobody bothered to tell you about the Chinese. You can tell you’ll probably have a lot of moments like that, discovering new things for yourself instead of hearing about it from magazines or seeing the photos on Instagram.

With your belly now full of the sticky goodness, you settle into bed for the night. You stare at the ceiling, paying no mind to the smile that’s been plastered on your face for the past three hours. You feel giddy, like a little girl seeing the stars for the first time. You’re doing it. You’re really doing it.

The city is still thrumming to life, but the distant sound of sirens and honks eventually turns to white noise as you drift off to sleep.

++++

The next morning, you rise with purpose; new life breathed into you. You brew a cup of coffee and decide to savor it on the fire escape, enjoying the not-yet-thick spring, and still slightly chilly, spring air. As the city stirs awake beneath you, you’re determined to craft an agenda for the day. With another few days to spare before your new job starts, your thoughts drift to the bedroom, where the abandoned paint cans await.

It's been a while since you've had the chance to dive into something genuinely productive, or creative for that matter, and you decide that this is the perfect opportunity. Your aunt chose a deep, rich shade of green, one that harmonizes seamlessly with the space; not too dark, but not puke or pea green, either. It’s pretty. She always has had good taste.

And while you like the color, it’s not particularly one you’d like to see splattered all over your clothing, having only brought what you could fit into a small suitcase. Your aunt must have something, you think. The woman has more clothes than a department store and there is no way she could have brought them all to Italy, although you don’t put it past her to try.

You make your way to the guest bedroom and rummage through the dresser located there. The top drawer is full of nothing but scrapbooks, the middle drawer has only sweaters, but luck strikes in the bottom drawer, where you locate a handful of old shirts.

You pull out a dark blue, oversized “New York Fire Department” cotton t-shirt; the front of it has an emblem, and the back says “Rescue 1 FDNY” in faded blocky white letters, obviously well-loved. This will do, you tell yourself, quickly exchanging your tiny crop top for the large shirt. It hangs over your body, the bottom nearly hitting your knees. Why your aunt has such a large shirt in her collection you’ll never know, but you wager it’s probably from one of her many “friends” over the years.

++++

The sounds of Fleetwood Mac's "Rumours" fill the room, you stand in the center of the bedroom, paintbrush in hand, ready to transform the space. The nostalgic chords of Stevie Nicks' voice in Dreams infuse the air, blending with the scent of fresh paint as you dip the brush into the can, and begin. “Like a heartbeat drives you mad,” you sing, slightly off-key, but no one is around to listen and you don’t mind. “Thunder only happens when it’s rainingggggg,” you belt, using the paintbrush as a microphone.

While most of the paint makes it on the walls, you have to admit that painting isn’t your strong suit and a fair amount of it has splashed back onto your face, shirt, and even your hair. You’re having fun, more fun than you’ve had in a while, even if you make a mess while doing it. Not like you’re gonna see anyone today anyway.

“Players only love you when they’re plaaaaaying…” doing your best Stevie twirl.

More and more green covers the walls, but as you’re about to get started on the final white wall, you’re interrupted by a loud steady stream of knocks at your door.

You hit pause on the music, and make your way to the door, unsure of who would possibly be knocking. You peer through the peephole to take a look, but you can only see the back of a man in a simple white shirt, his back turned to face away from the door. You undo the chain lock and swing the door open.

As the man pivots to meet your gaze, his presence sweeps over you, an unexpected force that leaves you momentarily disarmed. He’s handsome in a way that unmoors you; a mass of a man with broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, and sculpted biceps that redefine your sense of composure. Whoa.

“Hi,” you murmur, your eyes conveying a blend of softness and curiosity, "Can I help you?"

The man looks at you, and you feel yourself heat under the attention of his gaze. His eyes gently caress your frame; lingering a little too long on the emblem sewn into the fabric, just above your breast.

"Uh," he clears his throat, his hand rising to his face, fingers subtly grazing the beard hair on his cheek, as if grappling for words. "Yeah, well – no, uh," he stumbles, the words caught in a momentary struggle. "Hi, ‘m Joel Miller, I live across the way," he greets, angling his body to signal to the door directly across the foyer. “Oh right, my aunt told me about you you,” you say, introducing yourself, voice smooth like honey. “She mentioned you were a nice guy and to call you if I ever needed anything,” you say, taking up space in front of him by leaning into the door. “Just stopping by to say hi, then? Or do you need a cup of sugar or something like that?” you ask with a playful tone.

Suddenly, the last thing he wants to do is admit that there's something you could help him with—like turning down your music. He likes Fleetwood Mac as much as the next guy, but the last three days on shift have left him craving peace, not a soundtrack reverberating through the thin walls.

Plus, he wasn’t expecting you to be so damn attractive.

And he definitely wasn’t expecting to be wearing his shirt when you answered the door.

“Ha, no, don’t need any sugar,” he chuckles, “just thought I’d make myself known.” He pauses, eyes locked onto yours. You notice the subtle flecks of amber in his deep brown eyes and the furrow of his brow. He’s painfully handsome. Just as you’re about to say something, he breaks the silence first, “But I'll let you get back to whatever it is you’re doin’...you look busy,” he tilts his chin to the paint that’s splotched over your bare legs. You can tell he’s looking for the story behind the mess.

His left hand leaves his pocket and he places it on the doorframe. He leans into it, and your eyes catch the firmness of his bicep flexing under the strain of his lean before meeting his face once more.

“Cute shirt, by the way” he says, his voice low and even.

“Oh thanks, you like it?” you ask, pulling the fabric out in a tent from the center, noticing the little splatters of paint as you do. “It’s my aunt’s, I just borrowed it while I finish up some painting.”

“Yeah, I have the same one,” he adds, “looks a helluva lot better on you than it does me, though,” a little laugh leaves his chest and his cheeks flush, a little embarrassed that he just said that. Fuck, it’s been so long since he’s tried to flirt with a woman.

Your skin prickles with heat, and you’re suddenly very self-aware of what a wreck you must look like, but you decide to be bold anyway. “Maybe we’ll have to compare sometime,” you playfully retort.

“Yeah, maybe we will,” he responds, looking you up and down, hoping the meaning behind his words isn’t too obvious.

“Well if ya ever need anything, ‘m just across the way,” he says, dropping his hand from the doorframe, hitting his thigh with a slight sound of a pat. “Nice to meet ya, Darlin’,” he says. You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your chest once more, your stiff nipples now peeking through the fabric. He turns on his heels and turns his back to walk back to his apartment.

“Nice to meet you, Joel,” you purr. His head peers over his shoulder back at you, and the corners of his lips turn up in a little smirk.

Oh god.

You’re so fucked.

++++

Later that night, you text your aunt that you just met Joel Miller. You curse her for not telling you how incredibly hot he is. You also tell her that you decided to finish the painting, sending a selfie of you in front of the freshly updated walls with the message. You also add that you borrowed one of her shirts and that you’ll do your best to get the paint out of it.

Her response causes your breath to hitch in your throat, and your stomach swirls into a tight knot.

“The walls look amazing! Oh and by the way, that’s not my shirt, it’s Joel’s. I must have forgotten to give it back to him; the shared laundry downstairs sometimes causes mix-ups. Be a doll and give it back to him, will ya? Oh and quarters for the machines are in the clay pot next to the door.”

Fuck. Of course you would answer the door to your incredibly hot neighbor, covered in paint, in his shirt. You shake your head in embarrassment.

You look down at the shirt and notice just how much paint is all over it. You strip it from your body, bring it over to the sink, and begin to scrub the paint out of it with dish soap. As you watch the paint fade into the warm water, you notice the tag on the inside of the shirt and the rank inscribed in permanent marker on it.

Your fingers prune in the water, but you eventually get all of the paint out of the fabric. Satisfied with your cleaning job, you hang it up to dry and scribble out a note.

The following morning, on your way out to explore the city, you leave it neatly folded on Joel’s doorstep. You don’t bother to knock, you’re certain you might combust from embarrassment if you did.

Shortly after, on his way to work, Joel opens the door and notices the shirt by his boot, a little envelope placed on top of it.

“You could have told me it was your shirt, Captain Miller.”

Joel smirks. The cat’s out of the bag on that little secret then. He places it inside and lets out a little sigh. The image of your perky nipples, exposed legs, and messy paint-riddled hair flashes in his brain.

God, he wishes you would have kept it.

S U M M E R

As spring transitions into summer, the city experiences a gradual warming trend. Cherry blossoms and tulips from spring slowly give way to vibrant green foliage. Parks become lively with people enjoying the pleasant weather, and outdoor events become more frequent. The temperature rises, and there's a noticeable shift towards a warmer atmosphere with longer days.

It’s a shift you also feel in yourself, having found your niche, carving out your place in the ecosystem of the city. You’ve gradually adjusted, figured out how to successfully navigate the complexities of the subway system, and are starting to rely less and less on Google Maps to get around. You frequent a bodega around the corner from you, know where to find a decent bagel, and are a recognizable regular at Sang Garden.

Your new job keeps you busy. It’s tough work being a bartender in the city, but it’s granted you more than one opportunity to meet people from all walks of life, people you’d never get the opportunity to meet back in your hometown.

People like the gregarious and charismatic trader, who’s more than happy to make it clear he works in the financial district, even when nobody asks. People like the countless young professionals unwinding after a long day with their colleagues; some with sexual tension so obvious you can taste it. Designers. Architects. Engineers. Writers. Musicians. Actors. You don’t like them all, but you don’t have to, you’ll never see most of them more than once anyway.

You quickly learn the art of making a good martini, one you think would make Samantha proud. It’s all so posh. So far from your usual. But the money is good, and without having to pay rent – a luxury you now realize; having almost fainted when your coworker told you how much he pays in rent – it allows you to pocket most of it.

Your first few months in New York have been good, although a tad lonely. Making friends was never really a strong suit of yours, and you’re finding the city to be a particularly hard place to get to know people in any real way. Most of your free time is spent curled up with a good book or watching Friends for the millionth time, wishing Central Perk was a real place.

You see Joel in passing now and then, the in-between times when he’s coming home from work, and you’re just leaving for yours. Sometimes you pass each other on the stairs, and you have to angle your bodies side-to-side just to fit on the narrow stairs as you navigate around one another. You sometimes have to collect your composure when you leave for work and notice the faint smell of his cologne still in the hallway, it smells so good it makes you dizzy.

You find excuses to talk to him every now and then – a squeaky fire detector, to hand him his mail, or even for a stupid cup of sugar. Every time you find yourself knocking on his door, the butterflies congregate in masses as if preparing to migrate. You feel like a school girl with a crush for the first time, but as far as you can tell, Joel doesn’t feel the same, and you’re okay with that. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself.

The exchanges are always short; little blips in the grand scene of time, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling like you might faint under the intensity of his scorching gaze. Which doesn’t help, considering it’s already sweltering outside.

You severely underestimated how hot summer would be. Of course, you’re used to the oppressive Texas sun, but something about the way the buildings and concrete reflect the rays makes it feel like New York is at least 10x hotter.

The temperature in your apartment isn’t much better than outside. The air hangs heavy inside as you lay on your mattress, clad in only a bra and underwear, on crisp white sheets, attempting to cool yourself with a damp towel on your forehead. You listen to the feeble hum of the wall crying out for help.

As luck would have it, the overworked unit decides to give in to the heat. Beads of sweat form on your forehead as you attempt to fix it, but it’s pointless. You stare at the lifeless unit, realizing that the city’s relentless heat has claimed it as a victim. Time for a new one.

Once the sun dips past the skyline, you venture out to your local hardware store to grab a new one. You wish you would have had some forethought to bring a cart or something, not thinking about the fact that you were going to have to carry the heavy unit eight city blocks. Coulda, shoulda, woulda, you think to yourself. Once back to your apartment, you balance the quirky box on your hip, holding it steady with one arm as you fumble to grab the key from your purse outside the entrance of the building. Your cheeks are warm, you’re drenched in sweat even at this hour, and your hair is starting to stick to the nape of your neck. You manage to grab it, but inadvertently drop it, your fingers clammy.

“Shit,” you mutter, frustrated and hot.

“Need some help there, Darlin’?” Joel asks, making his way up the stoop. You turn to face him and oh.

Of all the times you’ve seen Joel, you’ve never seen him in uniform. The sight catches you off guard. His crisp, navy blue uniform emphasizes his broad shoulders and neatly tucked shirt, the shiny FDNY badge on his chest. He flashes a charming smile, revealing a hint of dimples, as he picks up your fallen key with ease. You’re not sure how he always manages to look so put together, a stark contrast to the way you always seem to look in front of him.

"Rough day?" he asks, unlocking the door, and for a moment, you forget the oppressive heat, captivated by his charm. “Here, lemme take that for you,” he offers, and you kindly accept. You shift the box out of your arms into his, and your stomach swoops when you watch the way his biceps flex as he grabs the unit with ease.

Grateful for the assistance, you offer a sheepish smile, “Yeah, you could say that” you reply, opening the door, holding it open for him. He begins to ascend the staircase ahead of you, giving you a full view of his ass in his uniform pants; it’s toned, and his thick thighs match. You walk behind him, trying to ignore the stickiness that’s beginning to pool in your underwear. You allow yourself to perv out for a moment, at least while his back is to you. He’s just helping you out, stop being weird.

Joel waits at the top of the steps for you to open your door. Once unlocked, you enter and he follows behind you. “Oh shit, it’s hotter than hell in here,” he says once inside, the irony is not lost on you that a literal man who fights fires for a living thinks it’s hotter than hell. He bends to place the box down near the front door and rises to full height, bringing both hands to his hips. You notice the little sheen of sweat that has now collected on his thick neck, fighting the impulse to lap up the perspiration. “You’re telling me, I’m rendering lard,” you say, letting your Southern roots shine through. You cringe a little at yourself, watering your accent down to not stick out as much, but you’re reminded of the age-old saying you can take the girl out of the country…

You wipe the back of your hand on your forehead to push away the sweat that’s been collecting there all day and look at him. “Thanks for the help carrying it up,” you say, offering him a kind smile.

“No problem at all, need some help installing it? These units can be tricky,” he asks, trying his best to ignore the fact that your white shirt has gone see-through from your sweat, allowing him a perfect view of your breasts. No bra again, he notes. He shifts his stance a little, trying to prevent his cock from hardening at the sight.

“Are you sure?” you ask, a little unsure, but deep down you know you need the help. As much as you’d like to think of yourself as an independent and capable woman, you’ve never been one to be good with anything mechanical, and the heat has left your brain feeling like the static of a T.V. channel with no reception.

“Course. I’m a servant to public safety. Can’t have you accidentally pushing it out the window and crushing a person below, it’d be a lot of paperwork” he chuckles and takes out a knife from his pocket to undo the tape on the box. It’s an ordinary act, yet somehow you’re mesmerized by his dexterity and competency.

Midway through the process, Joel pauses, feeling the heat, and glances at you with a lighthearted grin. “Mind if I take this off?” he asks, tugging at the collar of the uniform shirt. You nod, suddenly feeling warmer than before. “Sure, go ahead.”

His large fingers fumble with the buttons on the shirt, eventually revealing a white tank top underneath. The fabric clings to him, highlighting his defined chest, and a little bit of belly. You practically drool at the sight, once again resisting an impulse to want to sink your flesh into the softness above his belt.

He has an awful farmer's tan, but he wears it well; his forearms are a nice shade of golden and his shoulders are pale. You see from the lack of collar on the tank that he has a bare chest. He throws the uniform shirt onto a nearby chair and goes back to work installing the unit. You watch as he works to position it in the window, stealing glances at his glistening skin as he does. You think you’re being sly about it, but Joel can tell, he can feel your eyes heavy like bowling balls on him.

“So, how long have you been a firefighter?” you ask.

“About 15 years,” he responds. “Sorta always knew I wanted to do it, I was a contractor for a while, but wasn’t my thing.”

“Oh no? You seem like you’re pretty good with your hands,” you reply, your words suggestive.

“Never said I wasn’t, Darlin,’” he replies, shooting you a wink.

He plugs the unit in, and the screen comes to life. He sets the temperature as low as it will go, and the fan on high; the unit is about to put in overtime to make the air tolerable again.

“Well, that should do it,” straightening back up from his bent-over position, clapping his hands together as if to dust the task off. “Probably gonna take a while for it to cool down in here. You’re uh, more than welcome to hang out at mine for the time being. Don’t need you overheating on me,” trying to mask his excitement at you being in his space by carding his fingers through his salt and pepper curls.

You glance at the unit, and you can tell he’s right. “Alright, why not,” you say, offering him a smile. “Just gonna use the restroom fast,” you say, looking for an excuse to make yourself at least somewhat presentable and confirm that you don’t smell like a sweaty subway car.

Inspecting yourself in the harsh, exposing light of the bathroom, you grimace at your appearance. Not that you’d been expecting to look your best, but still. You pat the extra moisture off your skin with a clean towel, when you notice that nipples are straining against the fabric of your wet t-shirt, leaving nothing to the imagination. You briefly consider changing shirts, but the cheeky side of you decides to leave it be. You give yourself a quick smile and internal encouragement in the mirror and you step out of the bathroom.

Joel waits in the foyer by the door for you, taking the opportunity to learn a little more about you, drinking in the details of your space for any glimmers of insight it might give him about your life.

He’s been in the space before, but it’s different this time – updated. It still has many of the same things your aunt had put up, but you’ve added new additions to the walls; photos of you with friends, and family, and vinyl covers in frames. His eyes gravitate to a photo of you at your college graduation; your smile ear to ear, a bottle of champagne in your hands. You always seem happy. He likes that about you. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look for a photo of you with another guy, a hint that you might already be taken, but he’s relieved when he doesn’t find one.

The bathroom door opens with a soft creak, and you stroll out, shooting him a casual but confident smile. As you do, you casually tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, giving off an easygoing vibe. It's a simple move, but there's a certain charm to it that doesn't go unnoticed by Joel.

“Ready?” you ask, and he clears his throat, trying to hide his pleasure that you opted not to change your still slightly transparent shirt. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, yanking on the handle, the door groans and opens with a loud creak. “Don’t wanna hit traffic.” Oh god, that’s a dad joke if you’ve ever heard one. You try to hide the stupid smile that graces your face, but Joel sees it, and matches it. Your shoulder brushes against his chest as you walk through the door, and Joel straightens in response, a little tingle shooting up his spine from the brief touch. Get a fucking grip, Miller, he thinks to himself, pulling the door closed behind him.

++++

Once inside his apartment, you gasp. It’s not at all what you expected.

If his front doorstep was any indication, you expected his apartment to be full of Ikea furniture, bare walls, and maybe a fake plant in the corner somewhere. You’re pleasantly surprised when you find that it’s the exact opposite; you feel like you’ve just wanted into some swanky bar. The air smells like palo santo, but above all, it’s cool. You let out a sigh of relief.

“Can I get you a beer” he asks, and you nod your head in response. He walks into the kitchen, and you’re mesmerized by his space. It’s a similar layout to your apartment, but somehow it feels bigger, even a tad cozier, plus he has exposed brick, a detail you wish your apartment had.

“Your apartment is amazing,” you tell him, spinning around to get a full 360 view of the space. You hear him yell something like thanks from the kitchen.

You find your seat on the cognac-colored couch and run your hand up and down the texture of it. The leather is cool on your skin, and your body temperature slowly begins to return to normal.

Joel returns from the kitchen, and hands you a Bud Light. And for once, you don’t wish for it to turn into a martini. Now having spent a few months in the city, you’re starting to realize that you’re more of a bud girl than a cocktail girl, and that fairy godmothers are a tad overrated.

You’re not sure when he did it, but your ear tunes to the classic sound of Beast of Burden by the Rolling Stones playing in the background at a low volume, adding a funk you adore to the moment.

He finds a seat on the couch next to you and throws his arm behind you on the ledge. He crosses his legs over one another, and you squirm, not out of discomfort, but nerves.

“I am impressed with your apartment, it’s well decorated,” you compliment him, bringing the bottle of beer to your lips.

“Had a bit of help, ‘f I’m being honest,” he replies. Your stomach flips.

“Oh?” you say, a bit breathless, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Of course, he would have a girlfriend. You see it plain as day now, the feminine touches built into the apartment, hanging on the walls in plain sight, taunting you with the obvious. He even has like ten live plants for fucks sake. Joel Miller is taken.

“My daughter, Sarah,” he replies, bringing the beer to his mouth for another swig. You try not to make your sigh of relief too obvious. “Oh!” you squeak and turn your body to face him. You don’t know if you’ve scooted closer or if he did, but your thighs are now touching.

“She’s studying interior design. Begged me this past year to let her fix up my apartment, and well…I didn’t have the heart ta say no,” he replies. “Said my apartment resembled a frat boys bachelor pad,” he lets out a gruff little chuckle and you smile at him.

His arm drifts close to you, his hand nearly touching your shoulder. It’s not quite there, but you can feel the heat, the electricity, his fingertips shoot to your skin. So much for cooling down.

“Well, if you didn’t decorate the space, what’s your favorite part about it then?” you ask, taking another swig at the bottle. Joel stares at your lips as they latch around the glass, admiring how plush and warm they look. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wonder what they might look like around his cock.

“Ah, good question,” he says, bringing his hand to cover his crotch with the bottle, all while subtly trying to adjust himself from his previous thought. He’s surprised he even heard your question at all. “Probably the table over there,” he says, nodding his head back to signal to the dining room.

“Made it myself,” he says, a bit of pride in his voice.

You crane your neck to look, but can’t get a good view with how plush the cushions are. You slightly angle your body upwards, coming onto your knee on the couch to look, bringing your chest closer to Joel’s face.

“Well I’ll be damned, you really must be good with your hands,” you playfully tease, letting your body sink by his side once more, feeling the warmth he exudes. Your words cause his gaze to go dark. “Mhmm,” he murmurs, taking another sip of his beer, sure if he said any more he might regret it.

You notice the music switches to Kings of Leon, a favorite tune of yours echoing through the air. “Oh shit, I love this song,” you exclaim, barely able to contain your excitement, much to Joel’s delight.

“Yeaaaaaah, your sex is on fireeeee,” you belt, and you inadvertently tilt your beer bottle a little too far down in the process of your solo, and a splash of beer pours out onto Joel’s lap. The action abruptly causes you to stop.

“Ah, I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely, setting the nearly empty bottle on the coffee table in front of you, noticing the box of tissues as you do.

“Don’t worry about it, Darlin’,” he says, voice mellow, placing his beer on the table, too.

You frantically grab a handful of tissues and bring them over to the wet spot pooling on Joel’s crotch. “Here, let me,” you say, dabbing at the liquid, the realization not fully hitting you that your hands are literally on his crotch until – oh.

Joel’s been walking the fine line of a stiff one all night, and your simple gesture throws him over the edge, the dabbing causing blood to rush to his cock.

You continue to blot at the liquid and notice him stiffening underneath you. A heavy rush of arousal courses through you, and heats your core. Joel’s hand darts to grab your wrist, the size of it completely swallowing up your entirety of it, his fingers wrapped around it, and you’re certain he feels your pulse quicken under his touch.

You look up at him with big doe eyes, only to find his own pupils are blown open wide with lust, his jaw tense. His other hand finds the side of your face, and he holds you up to look at him. You both pause there, letting the tension of the moment swallow you whole. He looks at you like you're a juicy summer peach, ripe for the picking.

His grip on your wrist softens, and you flatten your hand to palm at his growing bulge. Joel lets out a deep groan in response to the full contact. “Shit darlin’,” he says, voice wrecked. His hand drifts to the column of your neck, and he begins to pull you up so you’re face-to-face with him.

The anticipation builds, and just as your lips are about to meet, a sudden shrill sound shatters the moment – the fire alarm.

“Fuck.” Joel groans.

TO BE CONTINUED - READ PART 2

Tagging moots and those who I think might like this: @endlessthxxghts @theoasisofthings @bastardmandennis @untamedheart81@lavema @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @dugiioh @nervoushottee @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings@josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @peachmy @survivingandenduring@darkheartgatita @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @dins-riduur-anthe @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro As always, feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list, or removed (even if we're moots, no hard feelings). Might transition to a notifs blog soon.xx

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedro pascal #new york #firefighter smut #pedro stories

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bangytell · 5 months

Text

jk | m

Summary: Your brother's best friend has been your ultimate crush since forever, and soon you'll find out that he has been too.

Genre: friends to lovers, smut

Rated: mature

Pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: non idol au! pet names (i looove using pet names), protected sex, kinda sex in public, boobs worshiping, mentions of jealousy and a very much lovestruck Jungkook.

a/n: I just miss him so much already, in that haircut in those lives, just bring that Jungkook back to me, any ways, come to be delusional with me. I couldn't bring my mind into a title, doesn't alway have to. Also I don't have a song in mind, don't hate me please i put much effort into this.

You’re constantly aroused by the thought of your friend pinning your body, but you can’t tell a soul about your strongest desires.

He’s your gym buddy, the shoulder you have cried on and a good friend, and it has to keep that way since he, unfortunately for you, has a girlfriend.

He’s teaching you the exercises you could do while he maintains the workout he’s currently doing, and with a hand in your lower back you feel hot in your stomach.

He’s talking to you while you imagine having him, in every possible way.

“Understood [name]?” you nod “Do it one time for me”

Oh i’ll do it for you many times

You do the movement as told, he grins and puts his thumb up for you, at least he used to give you praises, but you’ll take what you can get.

“I’ll be with your brother, finish the series for me and then get to cardio and you’re done” you smile and nod, getting your headphones up your head again.

You finish with ease as you see your brother and his best friend exercise at the same peace and look with detail as Jungkook body flexes and stretches each movement.

As you’re running and thinking about tomorrow's routine, you feel a hand on your shoulder, is your brother, Jimin. You pull your headphones, he speaks.

“We’re going to our dorm, are you good on your own?” Was he really asking that?

“You brought me here, what do you mean if 'm good on my own?” he chuckles

“Jungkook’s girl jus’ told us to go to this party” that girl…

“If you dump me here i’ll snitch” he gasps

“You wouldn’t” you furrow your eyebrows

“Try me” he grins and sees Jungkook approaching

“Oh yeah, tell Jungkook what you jus’ told me” that filthy rat of a brother you had

You slow the peace to the machine, as he comes closer

“[name] Jimin already told you?” you look confused and he grins “Let me guess, you told him you’ll snitch on him”

“You know her so well dude” Jimin chuckles and now you look angry, really angry

“You’re dumping me here to go after that…” you shush you words, in respect for Jungkook

“C’mon [name] is a holiday party, maybe your brother can finally get a girl” you scoff

“As if, please don’t do this to me… again” your temple looks like a lost puppy and it touches Jungkook soul

“You’re right, c’mon i’ll take you home” you smile

“I knew you were better than Jimin” your time was over at the machine, you went after your backpack and followed Jungkook to his car

“See you at the party, loser” Jimin drives off as you sit on Jungkook’s car

“Thank you for the drive” he sighs and smiles “I don’ mean to bother”

“Don’t worry, I jus’ hope Miko won’t get mad at me”

Oh, right.

“She won’t just use that beautiful bunny smile of yours and she’ll forget all about it” he smiles at you as the dim light from the road lights your sight.

When you arrive at your entrance, he seems distant as if an idea has filled his thoughts.

“Kook?” he smiles “All good?” he nods but doesn’t seem like it

“You can talk to me” he nods again, and opens his mouth as if the words were stuck at his throat

“Good night gorgeous, see you tomorrow” that’s all he manages himself to say, you reply with a good night and leave his car, he drives off and your heart pains in its cage.

After falling asleep with ease, your phone rings at your night stand, with a blurry vision you answer.

“Yes?” someone’s sobbing on the other line and you sit up straight, your vision returns and you notice that Jungkook’s name pops up “Kookie, what’s wrong?” he sobs a little

“[name] can you come for me?” drive at night? it surely didn’t seem like the better idea at the moment “please, i’m at my dorm but…”

“Okay, i’ll be there, give me twenty minutes” he hums in agreement, you hung up

Put your pajamas back on and leave a note at the fridge for your parents.

Took the car keys and drove as fast as you could. Once outside you call him.

“ ‘m here” he hangs up and you see him, the beanie and mask hide his puffy eyes.

Inside the car you greet him “What’s wrong sweety?” he denies and pulls your arm for a hug, he sobs and pulls you closer.

“Sorry for calling so late” you caress his back and feel him relax at your touch

“No worries” he scoffs and pulls away to look in your eyes “What happened?”

He denies and you begin to drive back home, the drive was full of Jungkook soft sobs and muffled music from your radio.

Once there you get down, and take the note from the fridge and place another.

Jungkook is at Jimin’s room, please don’t peek

He chuckles “You know how they are” he nods as you guide him through the halls

Once at Jimin's door he takes his mask off.

“Can you stay while I fall asleep” you nod, he seems delicate, as if by a simple touch would break him.

“No problem” you both enter the room, he takes his shoes and the beanie off, you leave your sneakers on the floor and lie beside him.

“She cheated on me” he settles in your arms after being able to tell you about his state you stroke his hair and his back as he cries on your shoulder and shivers

“ ‘m sorry Kookie” he denies and sobs

“Is not your fault or anything” you nod “ ‘m a fool, a stupid and dumb” you keep caressing his back and answer to him

“Why should you be? She’s the fool, the dumb and the stupid for playin’ with such an amazing catch” he chuckles

“ ‘m no catch” you gasp

“What? You’re good at everything you do, your amazing personality and that dazzling look you have? Anyone is the luckiest to have you as a couple” he chuckles and pulls away to look at you

“You’re sayin’ that as a friend” you deny

“ ‘m sayin it as a woman” he nods and rests his head at your chest again

“Thank you for being here” you stroke his hair and lean to give a soft peck at his temple

“Anythin’ for you, jus’ don’t tell Jimin I was here with you” he giggles and you feel as he drifts off to sleep.

The next morning Jungkook wakes up to the muffled voices coming from outside and the smell of pancakes. There was a little note at the side table where his phone rested.

There’s Jimin's old clothes in the closet, take a shower and come to have breakfast as soon as you can!

Your pretty handwriting made him smile, he took a very needed shower, and after using a shirt that fitted and some shorts he opened the door.

Only you and your mom remained at the dining room, the sight of your stuffed cheeks laughing at something and to Jungkook your eyes had a starlight

“Kook!” your mom stood and hugged him, his eyes were still puffy but he seemed a lot better. “Haven't seen you in a while, fancy seeing you here, without my son” he blushes and his ears become to gain that same crimson color “But, no worries you're welcome anytime” you sighed in relief and your mother helped Jungkook sit while she puts some pancakes and syrup.

“I have to run, but please Kook, make yourself at home”

You admired him as he filled his mouth with food. Jimin's shirt on him was a bit small but stood out his muscular body, his damp hair falled to his temple and got a bit in the way of his eyes, he was engrossed in his tasks not paying attention to your attentive gaze.

“Don't worn me out” he speaks, gazing at you as you chuckle and flustered at his words

“I wasn't…” you scoff and drink your glass of juice he smiles and continues to eat.

You leave to get ready for the class you have in a few minutes, and as you walk down the stairs you hear Jungkook screaming.

“Now it's my fault? You don't care where I am” he sounds… angry

“So what if she's here? That's the dumbest excuse” could he mean… you?

You were the only one left at the house so…

“I shouldn’t have answered your call Miko, have a nice day” he remains silent and you enter the dining room.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he nods, hiding his face with his hands “Jimin texted me, asking for you” he gaze you

“What did you told him?” he sounds… exhausted

“That you're okay” he nods

“He knows ‘m here” you nod and he sighs

“I didn't tell him I was coming, or that I called you. Or anything that happened actually” he sighs

“I figured, so i jus’ told him that I knew you were okay”

“Thank you, I'll let him know about what happened, can you give me a ride to the dorm?” you nod and he gets up leaving through the halls

You clean the kitchen and soon he appears with his old outfit.

“ ‘m ready” you nod and grab your keys on the way out.

The ride to his dorm is silent, no radio this time and it feels like his feelings and thoughts are eating him alive.

“Come by home any day you want, okay?” he nods as he opens the door

“Sure, gorgeous” you rest your forehead at your steering wheel as he walks away from you.

Being just the friend was kinda exhausting when it came to seeing him hurt.

And what did that call he had before meant?

By no surprise you ended up at the gym by yourself, your brother and his best friend didn't have trouble telling if they were coming, after your body got tired, you rushed home.

After a shower, you got a call from your friend, Ava.

“Hey pookie how's your life these days?” you snort

“Remember Jungkook?” she hums

“How can I forget, he's all you mention” you scoff and she giggles

“His now ex girlfriend cheated on him” she gasps

“No waaay” you sigh

“Way, and he called, sobbing asking me if I could drive him to my house, Jimin was still at the party I presume” your friend gasps

“Woah, woah, he wanted to be with you?” you blush

“ ‘m his friend, ‘m sure he jus’ wanted a home” she giggles at your words

“ y're so oblivious” you snort

“He sleeped at Jimin's room, and I stayed until he falled asleep since he pleaded me” she gasps in surprise

“He whaaat?” you snort

You hear your front door, and more than one voice as they make their way to the living room. Since they're far away you can't make heads or tails on who's outside

“Sorry, were you saying something? she snorts

“Jus’ tell Jungkook how you feel” you shake your head in deny

“I can't to that now Ava, he jus’ been cheated” she chuckles

“Is always bad timing with you, you’re a woman now, aren't ya’? you huff

Suddenly short knocks on your door startled you.

“Yes?” Ava is still on the phone when Jungkook answer with a soft “It's me”

“Gotta go Ava, call you later” with no time to answer you hung up and left your phone in the bed, standing up to open your door.

He looks much better than tonight, he doesn’t have puffy eyes and his all black outfit makes your heart skip a beat.

“Sorry I haven't called or anything” you shake your head in denial and he sighs “I kinda been sleeping all day” you nod, and he finds your silence odd “Can we talk?” you nod and close the door as he enters your room.

You both sit in bed, he's eyeing your room when his gaze meets yours and stays there.

“Are you mad at me?” you shake your head in deny once again, and you don't know what makes you being flustered “Talk to me [name]”

“Is there something you need to hear from me?” he sighs and holds your hand, caresses with his thumb and your cheeks blush

“I jus’ don't want you to provide me the silent treatment” he seems delicate with his words, and with the way he holds and strokes your hand

“Why did you call me?” he knew that was the question that remained your thoughts, he sighed and tried to give you the answer you need

“ I didn't know where else to go, and I felt… alone” you huff

“So… I can only get your call when you're alone?” he shakes his head in deny and your eyes become watery

Because to you, the way he's been acting makes your heart ache in disbelief, seeing he only needs and wants your presence when it threatens to be by himself.

You know Jungkook since you were both little, and sure he's two years older, but that never stopped your hopeless heart. Every time he got hurt you would caress him, provide words of encouragement and your unilateral love was becoming hurtful by the year. Surely you had couples before, and intimacy but your heart and mind would always think of him, on the way he makes you feel and how you know him and the way he knows and remembers so much of you. Being with anyone else wouldn't fulfill you.

“Is not like that gorgeous, you're my friend and I…-” you pull your hand and look at him with hurt eyes

“Maybe 'm tired of being jus’ your friend” he looks confused as you stand “Don’t tell me you haven't noticed my feelings” he looks confused as you step closer and pull him to put your lips into his.

He answers your kiss and opens his mouth a little more to deepen the kiss. You pull away and give him a hopeful gaze.

“ ‘m sorry” you know you shouldn't have kissed him, and he's just sitting looking at your flustered body, trembling and moving with anxiety.

He holds you by the hand and pulls you to his body to hug you by the waist, he's sitting at the edge of your bed and you're stroking his hair as his arms hug you closer.

You hear knocks on your door, and your mom's voice brings you back from reality. You let go from his embrace and open the door a little just to see your mother.

“Dinner is ready, and bring Jungkook with you” you nod and close the door.

“Let's go downstairs before she returns and kick my door down” he chuckles and stands up, before you open the door again he holds you by the cheek and gives you a soft peck.

Your emotions and thoughts are a literal storm inside of you, you kissed him and he responded to the kiss, not only that but he gave you a kiss back.

Are you dreaming?

Dinner goes smoothly, Jimin is telling a story and as you try to pay attention you notice from the corner of your eye that Jungkook’s gaze pierces you.

After dinner you hear Jimin saying that it is a great idea to sleepover in his room, your mom says it's fine.

You stay in the living room with the television on, watching Pride and Prejudice. It was that dance scene and as they danced your attention drifted off to the body sitting next to you.

“Do you like this movie?” you ask, as he looks at the screen, he chuckles

“I've seen it, when you were like fifteen remember?” you nod, the memory returning to you, of your younger self when Jimin had sneaked out for a party and didn't tell Jungkook about it, so he unconsciously made Jimin grounded. That night you were watching the same movie.

“You remember” he smiles and nods

You finish the movie and he turns at you.

“Why is that is called Pride and Prejudice” you giggle but answer to his question anyway

“They both were very proud and had prejudice over each other's action” he opens his mouth in a “o” as your brother walks to the living room.

“Dude, you can't sleep again?” he nods and you're prying as to why he seems to not be able to sleep when he has slept with you before “What are you looking [name]?”

“We watched Pride and Prejudice” he puts a boring expression

“You and your boring movies, Jungkook just sit here with you because he had nothing else to do” he arch an eyebrow and looks in your brothers way

“It was really entertaining actually, you should try and watch a movie with your sister sometime” Jimin huffs and you mouth a thank you to Jungkook

Surely Jimin preferred to do anything else than to share more than three words with you which mostly included “Dinner's ready” “Mom's calling you” “Can I borrow 20 bucks” that day you were surprised.

Jimin went back to his room and as you look for something different, Jungkook’s caught your eye.

He's scrolling to his social media, looking as handsome as he can be, and you gulp at the exquisite sight of him.

“ ‘m sleepy now Koo” he nods

“Go to bed gorgeous” you smile and walk to your room after taking a last glimpse at his features.

After cuddling inside your quilt and blankets you hear your phone buzz.

[So you have feelings for me huh?] –Koo

[Ha ha if you're acting like this forget about my confession] —[name]

[I could never forget about you, or when you kissed me, is actually all there is left in my mind] —Koo

[You’re talking gibberish :D] –[name]

[You drive me insane] —Koo

You smile at your phone and turn flustered to his words.

[I don't think you're emotionally available at the moment] —[name]

He reads the text and doesn't answer

You weren't telling lies, he’s been recently cheated on. He can't be thinking about anything else.

Suddenly, two soft knocks and your name being whispered by Jungkook. You open, with an open mouth, to throw a tantrum, but all is silenced when Jungkook's wet and saccharine lips are onto yours, hungry for your kisses.

You pull apart in confusion, he surely gets your blood boiling whether is the hot in your stomach wishing he'll fuck you dumb, or the way he makes you angry.

“Jungkook what?...” he reaches to you once more but you place your hand on his chest “Please, tell me what has gotten into you?”

He looks at you like a stray puppy, and finds a seat on your bed. He sighs deeply.

“I jus’ wanna kiss you” and with a sigh, a pout on his lips and his hands covering his face

“Jungkook, your emotions are hurt and blinded by the betrayal, I don’ wanna take advantage of that” he shakes his head in denial

“You don’t understand [name], you don’t” you kneel in front of his body and hold his hands on yours

“Help me understand then” he sighs, once more

“I didn’t realize my feelings for you until it was late, until you were dating that hideous dude” you chuckle “Then Miko got me mesmerized, or I thought she had” his gaze is on yours as he strokes your face “I fooled myself by thinking that I could… stop myself from thinking, caring and being hopelessly and deeply devoted to you” your breath stucks on your throat “Miko did me a favor by cheating on me, you were there for me… you” you place a finger on his lips

“I understand, but I can’t be your second best, I can’t feel like a side plate” he nods and pulls you for a hug, with a few tears on your face he wipes them with his fingers and gives you a soft peck.

After that, both of you spend more and more time together, he’ll bluntly flirt with you, making you feel giddy and flustered, even in front of your brother and he smiled with a “I knew you too would eventually step out of obliviousness” you both giggle and then he said “Jus’ don’t make out in front of me”

It was Jimin’s birthday, he had a party at your house, with a few of your girlfriends from school, and almost every classmate from both jimin's year and yours was there. Jimin will always go big.

You had your lilac dress, pouring yourself some more liqueur while the crowd and the music rumbled inside the house. Suddenly you feel a cold finger touching your elbow and you turn to find your old friend, Taehyung (who's also a friend of your brother) greeting you with his boxy smile, you give him a long hug and that's when Jungkook's attention falls into you once more.

He wasn't one to be able to call you his but the boiling blood inside him couldn't stop his mind, he was so jealous of how that boy was talking so close to you, and the way his hands went to your waist when you hugged him, he was starting to lose his temple, as his friends tried to call his name out to make him fall out of that slumber he walked your way without being fully aware of his actions, he placed a hand by your lower waist and greeted his way into your conversation.

You can't believe Jungkook is jealous of you as he pulls you closer to his warmth, Taehyung chuckles and shakes his hand in a goodbye as he winks at you and gets lost within the crowd.

“Jeon Jungkook, don’t tell me you got jealous” you chuckle and his hands turn you so you'll face him

Soon enough your hands are around his neck as he pulls you desperately into his kiss, you both giggle and his hand goes to one of your ass cheeks and lifts you a little your stomach begins to flutter and to feel warm, he's kissing you like in desperation, as if you're gonna disappear through his hands.

You can't remember how or when in between kisses but your body is on top of Jungkook's grinding onto his jeans, and he's losing his mind eyeing your drees lifting way past your knee, the way your breasts go up and down with every movement makes you a great sight.

“You look like a goddess right now” he holds you by your ass as you continue to grind on him, and his bulge just feels as you grind and slide in between your pussy so effortlessly. “You can only look like this for me” you nod and he grins and holds you closer to kiss you. “Use your words, doll”

“I only do this for you Jungkook” he grins and looks your way as he tries to pull your dress out of the way

“Good girl” he smiles as he discards your dress and soon enough your bra, he cups your breasts and puts one into his mouth as he caresses them with his tongue, you begin to let out saccharine moans and try to put a hand over your mouth, he shakes his head in deny. “Don't worry my love, the music is too high for anyone to notice” your hands go to his abdomen and you love the way it feels within your fingers, you help him out of his t-shirt and leave a trial of kisses until you're off of him and begin to unbuckle his belt, soon enough he pulls his pants off and his cock bounces back once its released from his boxer, your hand cups it and without warning you put it into your mouth, his head loll back as you busy in task, he puts a hand on your head and as he hears the sound you make while making his cock full of drool and feeling good he still feels like this ain't enough.

“Come on love, let me fuck you” those words make you stop, he kisses you and gets up to take off the rest of his clothes, he helps you get into bed and you're waiting in all fours as he takes a condom out of his wallet. He admires your body and strokes your ass cheek as the condom slips into his warm and aching cock.

He begins to slide into you, feeling the way your pussy clench and squeeze his cock.

“Ngh… you're so tight” he pulls away and slides back in just a little to have you squirming and pleading for more “You're s-... so desperate to take me in huh?” you moan, almost scream as he thrust balls deep into you.

His thrust are hitting just the right spot, making you moan his name like a prayer, his eyes full of lust eye your sweating body and grabs you by your arm to pull your back to his chest, your pleading for him not to stop, and he feels feral by the way your pleading and moaning, he loves that he's the only able to do this with you, and wants to do it every single day.

As he bullies into you his hands go to your breasts, then to your clitoris and begin to rub gently as your body shivers in pleasure

“This is how i wanna make you feel [name], I want to fuck you dumb, make you forget your name and only remember mine” he's still holding you closer to him, feeling even more of his cock inside you and he gaze your body. “C'mon [name] be my girl huh?” you nod and keep moaning, no single thought can connect to your head “Use your words love” his hand rubbing your clitoris and the other holding you in place just make you a dumb mess, you can't make it in your head to say a word.

“You'll answer me eventually” he chuckles as he feels his orgasm form and so do you, his name leave your mouth and just a few more thrust make you orgasm, your body trembles and shivers as he thrust his orgasm into you and the condom, he moans your name and you're in the same position as both of your chests go up and down, he helps you out of his cock and you feel it like a loss.

He stands up as you get comfortable in bed, he tosses the condom to your trash can, and comes to cuddle you into bed.

“Are you okay?” you giggle and nod

“Yes Koo, I am excellent” he chuckles “You really got jealous?” you lock gaze with him

“Yes…” you chuckle and hug him inside your blankets his body feels warm and he loves your breasts close to him

“But only because i can't say you're my girl” oh, you haven't answered

“I don't think between sex was the better moment to ask” he chuckles and sighs as he speaks again

“Would you let me be the guy you date? I'd be honored” you smile and pulls him into a soft peck

“Yes Koo, I'll be extra happy to be your girl”

Two knocks on the door startled you, the music from up your room isn't all loud and you ask “Who is it?”

“You better bring both your asses downstairs and sing me happy birthday or I'll kill you Jeon” you laugh and say that you're on your way

“I don't believe he'd actually kill you” he pulls his pants to its place and smile at you

“Wait until he hears about what just happened” you gasp

“Don't you dare” you both laugh and go downstairs holding hands as everyone sings happy birthday to your brother.

after>>

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©️bangytell please do not copy or steal my work, any translation can’t be done this is the only way to read it.

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts maknae line #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #bts jungkook #bts smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook fanfic

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andvys · 8 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6

Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe <;3

series masterlist

Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up.

He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.

How will he keep going?

Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one.

The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment.

“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles.

The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.”

“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer.

The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar.

“Hey Tony.”

Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling.

“Hey Ed, how’s it going?”

Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?”

Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.”

“With what?”

Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.

“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.”

“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve.

“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?”

Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is.

“Get lost, freak.”

“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness.

“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back.

Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read.

“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either.

Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales.

It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room.

Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave.

Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about?

Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing?

How did you even meet him?

You never even talked to him when you were still with him.

“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.”

Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.”

“Tell your old man to come by too.”

“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves.

Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie.

“Hey! This is too much, kid!”

“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there.

Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up.

“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes.

Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van.

“What do you want, Harrington?”

Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.

“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him.

Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?”

Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now.

“You’re the stoner.”

Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.”

Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?”

Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?”

“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily.

A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance.

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation.

“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up.

“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?”

The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t.

Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around.

“Put those keys away, dude.”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion.

“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”

Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson.

“I’ll walk.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”

It’s not about that, it’s about you.

Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance.

“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.”

Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van.

Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”

Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on.

“Your music sucks.”

“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.

Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot.

The song takes him back to last year, back to you.

“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap.

“A Song?" He asked, chuckling.

You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist.

“Uh– probably, Heroes.”

“By David Bowie?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.

“Isn’t it sad though?”

Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did.

“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,

and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?”

Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing.

He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”

“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!”

“Then keep going.”

“No,” you giggled.

“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips.

“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang.

You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed.

“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.”

“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat.

Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest.

Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve.

“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like?

Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie.

“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van.

Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.

Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew.

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault.

He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little.

“We’re here.”

Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley.

“I miss her.”

Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat.

“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”

“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?”

Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick.

“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”

Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again.

“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.��

Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that.

“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.”

Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods.

“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.”

Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?”

Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much?

Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him.

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more.

“Spit it out, dude.”

Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm.

“T-Take care of her?”

Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.

“I will.”

Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit.

He walks away when he feels like breaking down again.

He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips.

He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how?

How?

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up.

How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable.

Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle.

Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick.

She hums, glancing at you through your mirror.

Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave.

“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?”

“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.

She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray.

“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.”

Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie.

“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”

You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”

“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.

“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face.

“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”

“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her.

She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.

You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face.

“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night.

You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you.

She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.

The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.

The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones.

Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave?

“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks.

You nod, smiling at her.

“You seem a little overwhelmed.”

“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.”

“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes.

Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned.

“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.”

He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.”

“As always,” you snort.

“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you.

“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”

She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.

“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you.

“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.”

He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously.

“Y/n?” Heather glares at you.

“Have fun, babe.”

You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it.

You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates.

A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup.

“Hey.”

You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”

You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing.

He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness.

“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch.

“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse.

He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”

You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it.

You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away.

You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him.

You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink.

You wish you would have stayed at home.

You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks.

You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.

His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened.

He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly.

None of it makes sense to you.

If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened?

Why is he still with her?

Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along?

The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill?

Are they already going downhill?

Is that why he told you he still loves you?

So that he has someone to come back to?

You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse.

Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep.

It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better.

You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat.

“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?”

Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.

A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”

“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”

You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks.

You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart!”

He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.”

“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head.

He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.”

You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always.

“You look amazing, Eddie.”

He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up.

“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.

You can’t even help but giggle.

“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance.

He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”

Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?”

He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes.

“My knight in shining armor,” you tease.

He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them.

A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear.

"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders.

“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.

“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh.

Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear.

The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.

Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do.

Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.

You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”

Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”

“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly.

“Okay,” she smiles.

When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him.

But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden.

His are filled with longing and sadness.

Yours are filled with indifference.

You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself.

Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

"Yes, please."

next part

only tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things angst

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jjkamochoso · 2 months

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I Think I Like This Little Life

Nanami x gn!reader

Fluff

Nanami and reader have an adult conversation…

Warnings: a tiny bit suggestive in one part

“Kento.”

“Hm?”

“Are we boring?”

You and Nanami finally had a day off where neither of you were completely exhausted, nor were you called off in some sketchy part of the city to fight curses or held up in your offices, catching up on paperwork. When you woke up that quiet Saturday morning, you felt strangely relaxed. Nanami greeted you with his signature sleepy smile and a kiss on the forehead when he got out of bed. Since it was the weekend, you figured it was the best time to do all the fun things you’ve wanted to but never had the time for. However, you found yourself rain checking invitations for lunch with your cousin and clubbing with your friends. Of all the ideas that sounded the most pleasant to you today, those weren’t it. You slowly peeled yourself out of the bed sheets and draped a bathrobe over your pajamas to ease the chill. You padded your way to the kitchen where soft classical music filled the air and Nanami was simultaneously brewing tea and cooking eggs.

“Good morning, darling,” he called out, giving you another peck, this time on the cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“With you next to me, my love? Always,” came your reply, earning you the chance to see a small blush on your boyfriend’s face before he turned back to the task at hand. You hummed along quietly to the song that was playing and appreciated the view you had of your domesticated partner. As he finally set a mug and plate down in front of you, everything piping hot, you smiled appreciatively and waited for him to seat himself before savoring the delicious breakfast. These types of quiet mornings were your absolute favorite. There was no need to fill the air with mindless chatter or anxious laughter. The company of each other was more than enough for both of you. The shy stolen glances between you at the dining table were routine in your relationship as you both found yourselves enamored with each other but still lost in the throes of young love. Your first meal eventually came to a close and as you stood to do the dishes, Nanami was quick to intervene.

“Don’t worry about those, y/n, I’ll do them. Please, sit down and enjoy your rest.”

You rose anyway. “No way! You cooked us a delicious meal, it’s only fair I clean it up.”

Nanami looked like he wanted to protest but gave up when he saw the determination on your face. “Fine. You wash, I’ll dry.”

As the last dish was put away and the sink rinsed clean, Nanami strolled over to you, grabbing you by the hips and staring deep into your eyes. “You know, I have a big day planned for us.”

You tried not to let your disappointment show. You had hope for a day filled with recharge and rejuvenation but you didn’t want to let your lover down. “Oh? And what’s included in that?”

He cocked his head, pretending to be deep in thought. “Well, first off we could…” He trailed off, distracted by your extremely kissable lips that were extremely close to his own. As he leaned in, painfully taking his time, his phone began to ring loudly.

“Tch,” he muttered under his breath, but you weren’t deterred. You ran your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, goosebumps immediately popping up on his skin, and closed the distance, slotting your lips against his. You both made a contented noise at the contact. The kiss was gentle but needy, passionate but tender. Nanami’s phone had stopped ringing for but just a moment before the tone began again. He groaned into the kiss but still didn’t stop, his hands now roaming freely over your body and now it was your turn to groan, albeit for a different reason. His phone stopped ringing and started again once more.

“Whoever it is better have a good reason for interrupting us,” grumbled Nanami, breaking from your touch to answer his cellphone. “Nanami Kento. Oh, it’s you. No, thank you. I have plans. Yes, plans. No, not with you. No. No. I’ll see you on Monday.” He hung up.

“Let me guess, that was Gojo?” you mused, a grin erupting on your face. You could tell it was the white haired man on the phone with your beloved because he was immediately annoyed. Nanami nodded his head, his arms enveloping you in a hug as he rested his chin on your head.

“He wanted to know if we wanted to go out with him tonight for dinner and then clubbing. I hope you don’t mind I turned him down.” The blonde was taken aback by your giggling. “What’s so funny?” he asked you, letting go of the hug but holding you by the shoulders.

“I turned down my cousin and friends for lunch and the club today as well.” Nanami breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good. I have no plans today, I want no plans today. This day is ours and we will do as we please.” You nodded in agreement and sealed that with another long winded kiss before you went to your bathroom to get ready.

Thankfully the day had gone by pretty slow. It was a beautiful spring day so you and Nanami enjoyed a nice stroll around your neighborhood, listening to the chirps of the birds and rustling of the squirrels. You pointed things out to each other like a gorgeous flower (that Nanami of course compared you to) and a garden gnome (you couldn’t help that it looked just like Nanami!). You even cloud gazed for a while, enjoying the smells of the freshly mowed grass you found yourself laying on. When it came time for lunch, you made sandwiches for the both of you and munched on them while you did word search puzzles and Nanami did Sudoku puzzles. Like before, not many words were shared during this time but the comfortable silence was everything you could wish for. The plates were cleared, the sponge rinsed out. Another meaningful kiss was shared. Now it was time for household chores. You dusted while Nanami vacuumed. Nanami put the clothes in the washer, you put them in the dryer, you both folded them when they were done. You cleaned the sink in the bathroom while Nanami cleaned the toilet and shower. When that was done, it was time for another break. You picked up the cross stitch project you had been working on while Nanami settled for reading his newspaper. You sat in the family room on the couch while he opted for the chair. The window was opened slightly which allowed for the faintest touch of fresh air to be brought in by the light breeze. It was getting late into the afternoon and the birds, though still singing their songs, were beginning to head into their nests for the night. As you got lost into your project, the rustling of the newspaper brought you back to earth and into a new thought.

“Kento.”

“Hm?”

“Are we boring?”

Nanami lowered his paper and raised his eyebrows. “I don’t usually answer a question with a question, so forgive me y/n, but what brought on that thought?”

You went back to your cross stitching, nervously weaving the needle back and forth. “Well, it’s Saturday. We were asked to go out and join our friends in doing crazy things and instead we acted like an old married couple.”

“Would you have liked to gone out?”

“No. Would you?”

“Absolutely not.” His response was lightning fast.

“And so,” you laughed, “that raises the question. Are we boring?”

Nanami neatly folded his newspaper and sat next to you, taking your project out of your fidgeting grasp and replaced it with his hands. “I would spend the rest of my days watching paint dry if I had the pleasure of you sitting next to me as I did it. If the only views I ever saw were of neighborhood animals and our kitchen stove, as long as you were by my side, I’d be the happiest man on the planet. If that makes me boring, so be it.” You could tell he meant every word of what he said. Maybe you were being too hard on yourself—being able to build a life with someone as loving and kind as Nanami isn’t a privilege everybody is able to have and so what if people don’t understand you like to live a slow life? The only thing that matters at the end of the day is that Kento Nanami is yours, and you, his. You lifted your entwined hands up to your lips and gave his knuckles little kisses to show your appreciation for his answer. Unfortunately for you, you would never know just how wildly fast Nanami’s heart beat in his chest at the action, but you could get a feeling for what was going on by the deep blush spreading on his cheeks and his slightly flustered body language. You were definitely going to cancel plans to stay in more often.

#nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #nanami kento #nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader fluff

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missnxthingg · 1 month

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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Actress!Reader (Enemies to Lovers & Fake Dating AU) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando Norris really messed up on the first time meeting one of Hollywood's newest and hottest stars, Y/N L/N. But when his reputation gets too bad, she might be the only one who can save his career from being completely doomed. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 4.5K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - SMUT & swearing 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - Four is our lucky number, so let's spice things up! As I wrote this, I could only think about the song Conflicted by Halestorm (pardon the hard rock). Hope you enjoy this one!

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𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 - 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃

Lando woke up a little lost the following morning. His cheek was pressed to the top of Y/N's head and his arms were loosely still around her waist. She was still deep into sleep when he opened his eyes. Too afraid to wake her up and having to face an awkward conversation, he stood very still, taking the first minutes of his day to look at her and think.

Whatever happened between them yesterday was weird, to say the least. People don't simply go from hating each other to being vulnerable and sharing a bed in a matter of hours. He didn't know what had got into them and it scared him how much he enjoyed the moments they shared the previous night. It scared him how good it felt to be vulnerable to her. And the feeling he got on his chest every time he looked at her was the most terrifying of them all.

Feeling a clench on his chest, Lando carefully slipped out of bed and changed into fresh clothes, did his entire morning routine and, in less than 15 minutes later, he was downstairs in the restaurant for some breakfast. Since it was so early, and everyone was still tired from the weekend, he managed to sit alone and think. The last thing he needed was company.

Eventually, the hotel started to get crowded, and a few fans were starting to recognize him among the people at the restaurant. Feeling cranky, he thought it was best for him to go back to his room and get ready for his flight later that day. Zak had already texted him, saying he hoped to have a meeting on the flight. So he needed to rest his mind.

Lando hadn't decided how to behave around Y/N yet. She was woken up by the time he arrived, but was having a shower while he was gone. He packed everything he needed while she kept the bathroom busy. She only came out ten minutes later, dressed in comfortable clothes for the flight.

“Good morning”, she opened a small smile for Lando, who didn't retribute it.

“Morning”, he mumbled, taking his needed things for a shower.

Y/N was surprised with his behaviour, but decided not to comment on it. Who the fuck goes from cuddling to no reaction in only a few hours? Only someone as complicated as Lando Norris.

“At what time we'll be leaving?”, she ignored how he acted and decided to act just as cold.

“We have to be at the airport at one”, he said and Y/N only nodded to his response.

But she just couldn't help herself. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Fine”, he shrugged before locking himself in the bathroom.

The rest of the trip was exactly like that. Y/N only heard Lando's voice when necessary. He only shifted his mood during the meeting he had with Zak on the plane. Not very interested in talking about racing, she chose to put on her earpods and drift away into music.

They only met again a week later, when Y/N was invited to attend the Cannes Film Festival. To not make it seem like their relationship was one-sided, they took advantage that his off weekend was supposed to be during the event. Lando met her in France, where they had booked a suite with two rooms this time, so they would only have to meet in common areas such as the living and dining room.

What surprised Y/N was that Lando was back to his asshole behaviour once again.

“You never, ever shut up, do you?”, he sighed, taking a spot on the living room's couch.

"I'm just saying that we're late for a brunch and you're fucking sitting down, Norris", she folded her arms and puffed her chest, making sure he knew how upset she was.

"I'm not required to be at this brunch. Just need to be with you at the red carpet", Lando put his feet up on the coffee table and turned the TV on, pretending not to care. Y/N promptly removed his feet from the table.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I literally always go out of my schedule, fly out away from home, just to be at your goddamn work events, and you can't do the same for me?”

"We're not a real couple, Y/N. I don't know if you realized that", Lando squinted his eyes as he spat out the words. Words to which were daggers right across her chest.

She didn't know why it pained her so much to hear those words; to see how aggressive he was behaving. That was not the same Lando that a week ago begged for her to comfort him and pulled her closer before falling asleep. He wasn't the bubbly and happy Lando Norris she saw on track.

Trying to fight back some tears, Y/N turned her back and retreated to her room. “You do you, Norris. I'm gonna finish getting ready because, contrary to you, I care about my career”.

She had to fight really hard to not call his PR team and call this whole thing off. Lando wasn't committing to his part of the agreement, so she didn't feel like it was fair. But she washed her face, took a deep breath and got ready for brunch. By the time she was out the room, Lando was waiting dressed in a linen button up and short's, perfect for a casual spring day.

Y/N didn't say anything and carried on her way out, him right behind her. When they got to the hotel lobby, they put on their little show, with his hand on the small of her back and opening doors for her. Later that day on the internet, people were melting with the pictures of them in line for brunch, with the sweet kisses being shared between them.

But the real commotion came on the next day, when they attended a Martin Scorsese film premiere, looking like the hottest couple in Cannes. Lando dressed up in a beautiful and classic black suit, while Y/N chose a draped baby pink dress that made her feel like a goddess. When she came out of her room after hours with stylists, makeup artists and hairdressers, Lando felt the air being knocked out of his lungs and he did his best at pretending not to care.

Their fans, on the other hand, cared too much. Their names climbed up to worldwide trending topics; their picture on the red was all over Instagram. People loved how amazing they looked together. Lando and VN really could be a breathtaking couple if they were actually together. It was the perfect combo: the rising star and the sunshine athletic boy.

“A match made in hell”, he whispered in her ear as all the cameras blinded them with the flashes.

"I fucking hate you", she whispered back, and Lando felt like those words were a stab right in his chest.

Of course he knew Y/N hated him. He himself has made sure those feelings were known. But this is the first time he's heard it since the night they shared in Miami. Why does he now care that she hates him?

The words flowed so easily out of her mouth. She was angry at him. Absolutely livid by his behaviour on the previous day, or the fact that he simply pretended the last grand prix didn't happen. So if Lando was going to be petty, two can play this game.

The entire night was filled with snarky comments. Lando made sure to show how he wasn't enjoying the premiere, and Y/N had a comment for every comma that came out of his mouth. She could say anything to try pissing him off. What was making Lando angry, on the other hand, was seeing other men looking her up and down, just like a piece of meat. Didn't they have anything else better to do?

After Y/N spent good ten minutes talking to a very hot model, who was flirting with her the whole time, Lando gave up on waiting for him to leave and approached them, letting his hand go around her waist, securing her close to his body.

“Jesus, don't they realize you're taken?”, Lando mumbled, as he frowned at the model, now long gone.

"I thought we weren't a real couple. So there's nothing wrong with other men flirting with me", she provoked, feeling his fingers tighten around her waist.

“There is when, publicly, you're still mine. Or don’t you remember my one and only rule?”, you could see the red creeping up his neck. Was he actually jealous? It can't be.

“You really are a book I can't read”, she sighed, making an exit towards the theatre where the movie would be exhibited.

Thank God for long movies, because they wouldn't have to listen to each other's voices for three hours. But after a standing ovation once the credit's started rolling up, Y/N proceeded to try talking to as many people as she could at the cocktail party after the session. At the end of the day, she had talked to really important directors and producers, who in the future might think of her while doing a new project.

Lando, on the other hand, stood by her side and looked bored. He hated the film, thinking it was too conceptual for his liking, not to mention too long for a fucking boring plot. Y/N was getting angry at his behaviour and was making their deal go through the sky.

“I swear to God, if you keeping doing this, I'll call our team and end this whole fucking thing”, she complained, making him roll his eyes.

“Fuck off, you're still full on flirting with other men in front of me. I'm not the only one fucking this agreement”, by that time, they were alone in a secluded area of the party.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Norris, I'm working, not flirting, for fuck’s sake. This is the same thing as talking to sponsors. I'm not fucking flirting with any of them”, she was visibly angry at his behaviour.

“Well, it doesn't look like it”.

The fight was taken back to their hotel room and they did their best to make their discussion go unnoticed by other people. But once the doors were closed, they fought like they were married with children.

“This is disrespectful”, Lando shot when they brought up the men she talked to through the night.

“It's work, Norris. I don't know why you're so fucking jealous”.

“Because, we're in a goddamn relationship, Y/N. You can't go out all flirting with other men”.

“You said yourself we weren't in a real relationship. So why are you so jealous?”

“I'm not”, he reaffirmed, making her chuckle.

“Prove it”, she crossed her arms and daringly arched her brows.

She made every molecule of his body agitated. Once, Lando thought it was anger, for all the times they fought without having a reason and all the days she behaved like a brat, making his blood boil under his skin. Now, after the crash and the moment they shared in that tiny driver’s room, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

He was furious; absolutely livid, without knowing exactly what he wanted. Normally, Lando is a very decisive man. But when it came to Y/N, things were just a mess in his head. And right now, looking at her with her arched brows and folded arms, almost daring him to explode at her, he knew that there was only one thing he could do to end up with the fire that was consuming him.

The next second, Lando had his lips on Y/N, furiously attacking them in the neediest kiss of all time. She was taken by surprise and actually had to wait a few seconds to reciprocate anything. She had that look on her face, provoking him into the edge, waiting for a shout that would give her a single reason to hate him. Now he’s got her on the hook and there was no way to run. Actually, Y/N didn’t actually want to run anyway.

Lando had pressed her against the wall, a leg right between her thighs, keeping them apart and their bodies close. He had a hand around her neck, and another one on her hips, securing her against the wall. The pressure he put on her throat felt delicious. No one had ever held her like that before. Her panty was soaking wet not even two seconds later.

It only felt better when he moved his kisses down, trailing them to her neck. His lips sucked on her sweet spot, right under her ear, making her moan with the hot sensation over her skin. Also, if she wasn’t turned on at that point, feeling Lando’s hard on her thigh absolutely did the job. And if he was playing a game, she knew how to dance around it as well. Quickly, one of her hands was palming him over his trousers. He moved back to her mouth, kissing her as if his life depended on it, and biting her bottom lip when the pleasure got too much for him.

“Stop it”, he moaned against her lips, making her smile. “You can only touch me when I say you can touch me”.

“Bullshit”, she dared. “Look at you, Lando. You can’t get enough of my touches. I know you want them all”.

“Fucking…”, Lando removed his knee from between her legs and helped her kneel on the ground right in front of him. He leaned forward and softly landed his hand on her chin, making Y/N look up. She tried to put her best innocent look and he was absolutely done for her. “Open your mouth, baby”.

Y/N opened her mouth for just a little bit, and Lando slipped his thumb in so she could suck on it. Then after a while, he replaced it with his middle and index finger, going in deeper and making her almost gag on his hands. Tired of playing games, he kneeled as well, levelling their eyes, before letting his hand travel to the zip on her back.

“Come on, pretty girl. I want to see you”, he left a few soft kisses on her cheek and daringly opened the zip. “Can I take this off?”, she nodded, but Lando wasn’t satisfied. “I need to hear you say the words”.

“Yes, please”, she pleaded and soon her dress was on the floor, exposing her bare tits from the lack of bra and lacy black thong. Lando didn’t waste a second before dipping his head into her nipples, sucking, biting and playing with both of them. Y/N was a moaning mess in second, pulling his head closer to her body as she felt fantastic with just his lips on her nipples. “Lan, oh my God. Please, I wanna feel you”.

“You misbehaved”, he smirked, getting away from her tits to undo his belt. “I told you not to touch me and just wait. Now, if you wanna touch me, you better open up”.

He quickly lowered his trousers along with his underwear and his hard cock came hard, slapping on his stomach. Lando was sure he could die happily at the sight of Y/N’s eyes brightening and her mouth automatically opening wider for him. “Good girl”, he praised, taking her face by the chin and bringing his cock to her lips.

Y/N’s mouth felt so warm and amazing; Lando was losing it. He started trusting his hips into her face, making his dick go deeper in her throat and her gagging sending delicious vibrations up his body. He was surprised when one of her hands grabbed his balls and massaged them, sending him over the edge just quick enough. He had to pull away before coming on her throat. Y/N pouted in the absence of his cock, still being attached to it by a string of spit and pre-cum. Lando used one of his hands to wipe it off before kissing her again.

“Baby girl, I need to last longer, and you’re not helping at all”, he whispered on her lips once again, making Y/N giggle. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was a hand sneaking into her pussy, his middle finger gathering the juices pooling on her panty. She let an audible moan out, making him know how much she was enjoying that. “Do you want my fingers?”

“Yes”, she breathed out and Lando picked her from the floor, quickly taking her to bed, where they could get more comfortable. He slowly removed her underwear and tossed it around the room, the place getting filled with her glorious smell.

“Spread your legs wider, love”, Lando commanded and she immediately responded. “Good, just like that”. Y/N was going feral with the praise, and he got it right away. “You have a praise kink, pretty girl? Oh, that’s so sweet”.

Now that he knew that, Lando was going to put that information to use. He went back to her mouth though, this time slowing down the pace of her kiss, but the intensity was just like before. As much as he wanted to jump right in and just fuck the shit out of her, he would do anything to make this last for as long as he could. “If I am to have her for only one night, I want it to be unforgettable”, he thought.

Y/N was drunk on his kisses; feeling her soaking wet core brushing on his bare thigh and his tongue furiously sliding against hers. She just wanted to feel him, so she guided his hand to her pussy and pleaded with her eyes. Being a good boy, Lando slipped a finger inside her and pumped it inside slowly, making her lose it, throwing her head back in pleasure.

“Yes, right there. Oh my… Lando”, her hands flew to his back, fingers digging on his skin. Y/N started to roll her hips against his hand and he smiled at her attempt to feel even better. “I need more, please. One more”.

“One more finger, baby?”, Lando immediately obeyed, loving the sweet moan that came out of her mouth right after. “Come on, tell me what you want”.

“Kiss me, Lan”, she pulled his head closer to hers and her lips met his midway. Lando could’ve died happily just like that. He was getting addicted to her kisses, specially now that they were wanted and asked for. They weren’t a stunt act. They were behind closed doors. She was doing it willingly.

“Does that feel good?”, he asked between kisses and she nodded, feeling a knot tightening around her stomach.

“I’m gonna cum”, she grunted, making him start circling her clit with his thumb. “Shit, shit. I’m cumming”.

Her pussy clenched around his finger and now he was covered with her juices. Knowing it would make her go crazy, Lando brought his fingers up to his lips and licked them, moaning at the taste of her sweetness. “God, makes me want to get it straight from the source. You taste so good, baby girl”.

Y/N sat on bed and jumped right into his neck, wrapping her arms around his head to kiss him intensely. Lando was surprised by that, but he couldn’t get enough of her kisses. He has been learning to love them for a long time now, but it was so different; so magical.

“You want to eat me out, uhm?”, she asked him, making Lando arch his eyebrow and smile. “I asked you a question”.

“Well, I would not be opposed to it”.

“That’s not an answer, Lando”, she stopped kissing him, throwing her back against the mattress and getting comfortable between the pillows. She was not going to make him say it. He was the dominant; he wasn’t the one to say those kinds of things. But when Y/N spread her legs and started to play with herself, he just couldn’t keep it to himself.

“Fuck yes, I do. I want to eat you out, pretty girl”, he fell down, head right between her thighs, and started to trail kisses up her legs, until his lips were wrapped around her clit. If Y/N was trying to contain herself, she just couldn’t do it with how good it felt to him eating her pussy so deliciously.

But with their history, she just couldn’t help but provoke him. “You can do better than this”, Y/N dared, as if she wasn’t a moaning mess a few seconds before. And Lando wasn’t one to turn down challenges.

He pulled both of her legs over his shoulder, securing his head on her pussy and making her more comfortable. This time, he started sucking on her clit while working two fingers inside of her. He was too busy to say anything, but Y/N had a whole fucking lot to say about his work.

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing so good. Shit, you just know how to find the right spot. Gonna make me cum again, uhm?”, she was almost screaming in pleasure. When Lando started brushing the right spot inside of her, she felt like she was going to explode. It was different than any other orgasm she ever had in her life. She cummed so hard on his mouth, screaming his name in response.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”, Lando had a beautiful smile on his face, that was covered in her juices. “Shit, that was so perfect”.

“You did so good”, she let a hand up to his face, rubbing circles on his cheek with an adorable smile on her face. But then, her hand fell to his cock, pulling him closer to her as she jerked him. “But now it’s time for both of us to feel good”.

Lando kissed her once again, just because the kisses were an addiction by now. Her hands pumping him only made it all feel so much better. Just the thought of having her around his cock made it twitch.

“Eager much?” She smirked on his lips, but Lando didn’t reply. Instead, he pulled her legs to wrap around his torso and guided his cock to her entrance, head brushing her pussy and collecting all the wetness. Y/N moaned and whined just with the contact.

“Eager much?” He joked back before putting just the tip inside. She felt so tight around him, Lando had to take a second to put it all in, needing to push one of her legs over his shoulder, just to give him more access. “Holy fuck, you feel so good around me. Baby, so tight for me. Fuck yes”.

He had closed his eyes, but she gripped on his throat, making him look down again. “Let me see your eyes, Lan”, she asked. His ocean green blue-ish orbs met hers and he quickly wrapped one of his hands on her throat as well.

“Say my name again”, it was his turn to ask, and she moaned with the request. “Say it”.

“Lando”, she whispered, his cock now moving delicately inside of her.

“Louder”, he demanded, picking up the pace.

“Lando!”, she screamed, making him slammer down his cock inside her. “I want you to ruin me”.

“Your wish is my command”. Now it was a matter of honour, and Lando was going to give what she asked. So he found the best pace, keeping the movements firm, yet slow enough to not be too much.

“You’re so big, love”, she praised, brushing her hands on his cheek, making him look her in the eyes. Lando looked so pretty while trying to contain his moans to speak. “I can’t get enough of you. I’m so full”

“You take me so well, my love. Fuck me”, his movements were getting sloppier, and she could feel his cock already twitching inside of her. Y/N also noticed that he was holding back his force, trying not to overstep.

“Don’t hold back, baby. You can use me”, she encouraged, and that was all Lando needed to hear before quickening the pace. And then, it was getting too hard for him to hold back. He wanted to last longer, but it all felt so good. Lucky enough, Y/N started to clench around him. “I’m gonna cum, Lan. Please!”

“Let’s cum together, pretty girl. Come on, we can do this”.

He glued his eyes with her, the hand on her throat not letting them break eye contact as the waves of pleasure crashed over their bodies. Y/N came first, but less than 5 seconds later, he pulled out to come on her stomach. She pumped him outside, getting him dry, while he retributed the favour with his fingers until they were both done.

Y/N had to wait a second to come back to her senses, but Lando promptly took a cloth from the bathroom and cleaned the mess he made over her. Then, too tired to function, he dropped his body over her and pressed a few kisses all over her face. It was like now that he had finally had her, he just wanted to curl up with her and forget about the whole world. And she was willing to let him do just that, because that was exactly what she wanted as well.

He fell asleep just a few seconds into their comfortable silence. Y/N continued to roll her fingers through his curls, lulling him into deep slumber, as she thought about what had just happened. It was still unbelievable in her head, but she kept replaying every moment, already missing his touch. And if her feelings for Lando were already confusing because of that night after his crash, this only made things worse. But having him sleeping on her arms, his digits digging on her skin as he clings tight onto her, made her forget about all her worries.

He woke up for just a few seconds and caught her staring at him. Instead of pretending she wasn’t looking, Y/N cracked him a smile. Lando opened an even wider smile before pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep, angel. Come on”, he got off her to turn off the lamp on the night stand, turning the room dark.

He found a spot for his head on a pillow and missed the warmth of Y/N. So he pulled her closer until she was lying on top of him. The skin to skin contact felt so intimate and comfortable for them. No fabric or cloth between them, just their bodies holding in together. And with his soft hands on her hair, Y/N fell asleep listening to Lando’s heartbeat, who had his own funny pace: quick in adoration for her, and then slow, after she calmed him down.

She would be the death of him someday.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

⤳ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - @celestialams @lizaschronicles @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstufff @bishhhitsaurionn @mrsmaybank13 @bborra @sltwins@riccdannyf1 @kapsylia @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @lan4cha16 @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @hellyesjaehyun @tastebaldwin @sweate-r-weathe-r @carmenita122 @m0cha-bunny @lqvesoph @itscrzy @fangirlvibez @poppyflower-22 @livelovesports @logischeroktopus @happy-jj @saturnbloom77 @cmleitora @formulaal @secretgal66 @taisferrari-blog @ellen3101 @sunsshinesunny @eclipsedcherry @tems13 @readingbringsjoy @naanibubbletimmispeach @kenzeyeballs @alilcloudy @architect-2015 @tillyt04 @eringaitskill @honeyhatty12 @dreamercrowd @demig0d0fapollo @mxmtewnz @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @beyond-the-ashes @ijustgomessitupx @floraav @laiba26mindflay3r @books0fever @marialovesf1 @sltwins @ourteenagetragedy @katieschry1 @loveofmylife12 @diaa-20 @urfavsgf @chilisandmilk @elleeeee21 @likedbygaslyy

crossed means i can't tag you! dm me and maybe we can get it fixed

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luveline · 1 year

Note

grumpy!joel and sunshine!reader? like he is very gruff and short with people until his girl comes around and tess is like wow are you soft now?

tysm for ur request! disclaimer: I am not an expert in tlou I just think Joel is very fit and also scary ♥︎ tess and joel are roommates here (and also no hate on tess at all I tried to make her a realist rather than a pessimist but she may sound a little jaded) idk lol pls enjoy! fem!reader

Joel's asleep when you come around. Tess is stirring her drink, small spoon bouncing against the sides of her mug with a metallic tap-tap-tap as your familiar knock raps the door. She doesn't bother yelling, just opens the door to let you in.

"Hello," you say, though you wince when you spot Joel dozing on the couch. You drop your voice to a whisper. "Nice shiner, Tess."

"Thanks." She steps aside to give you free reign, rolling her eyes when you toe off your shoes.

You're not right in the head, in Tess' opinion. You're too soft for this life, and your continued survival feels like luck and nothing more. You know how she feels about you, and you know what she thinks: that to be vulnerable is to kill yourself. You don't feel the same.

Joel's flat on his back. You push him against the cushions of the couch to make room, perching at his hip with a small sigh. He couldn't have been with Tess when she got hurt, his face clean of contusions. No speckled bruising, no scabbing cuts.

You place your hand over the solid plane of his stomach and lean forward just a touch. You could kiss him.

"Joel," you murmur, hand sliding to his waist. His jeans are rough under your palm. "Wake up. I have good news."

He never wakes gently. His eyes scrunch, his lips tug down into a scowl. When he sees you, it takes a good long second for his agitation to fade into a more neutral expression.

"Hey," you say, smiling.

He doesn't smile back. "Where have you been?" he asks succinctly, voice rough with the lingering dregs of sleep.

"Why should I tell you?"

He almost pushes you off of the couch as he sits up and swings his legs to the side. His shoes touch the floor, and of course he sleeps with his shoes on, he's ready for everything.

"Don't play games."

You hum in delight at his dark tone and stand up before he can grab you, shivering at the feeling of his fingertips scratching your thighs. You backtrack through the room for your bag thrown haphazardly by the door. You pick it up, excited and scared at once, and scrabble to procure your promised 'good news'.

"I wasn't far."

"Your definition of far isn't one I trust," he says.

"She's a big girl, Joel," Tess says, sipping her drink. She winces at the taste but isn't deterred. "She can take care of herself."

And if you can't, who cares? You shouldn't be anybody else's problem, and to your credit you aren't. You take care of yourself. You take care of Joel, too, whenever you can, which is why you've brought him the book you found.

"Here, handsome," you say, holding it out with little ceremony.

Joel stands up to take it. He stares at the cover in silence.

"It's a shame they can't include a snippet on every page," you lament. "Like when they used to put perfume samples straight on the paper. I don't know what half of those songs sound like. Which is weird, right? The biggest Billboard hits and I can't remember them."

"And this is for…"

"Your codes. Your radio codes?" Your beaming smile starts to shutter. Maybe it isn't useful after all.

Joel knows better than to ask what you want for it. You never ask for anything, ever. You give and you give and at first he'd thought you were stupid, just plain dumb. Generosity is a myth and everybody has their motives. He'd been suspicious of your angle, rejecting you, talking down on you, practically spitting at you to get lost. And you'd listened, for the most part, but then he'd see you in line after shifts for cards, around dark corners talking to dirty FEDRA officers, and you'd always impossibly feel his gaze and pin him with a smile. You've eroded his reluctance over time, and now you're here, sprightly and pretty in his too-big apartment filling every inch with light.

He reaches across the gap and takes your hand. He squeezes, savouring the warmth of your smaller hand. You have delicate fingers compared to his, and they look smaller still enveloped in his grasp.

"I'll make you something to eat," he says.

You nod once, a pop of movement. "Thank you."

You're not the one who should be saying it but you're the only one who's willing to. Thank you has become synonymous with I owe you.

Tess lets her gaze flick between your two bodies, clearly startled. Joel drops your hand and it's too late, far too late, she's already gearing up to make fun.

"Is this how it's gonna be now?" she asks.

Joel huffs quietly. Tess talks with a brittle kind of love, the familiarity of knowing someone for a long time softening what would otherwise be ridicule. She thinks, without malice, that you and Joel are a bad idea.

"Hasn't it been like this for a while?" you ask, turning to face her, your usual sunshine attitude worsened by Joel's affection.

"You're fucking up my guy."

"Don't get stiffed so often and you won't need a bodyguard," you say lightly.

Joel snorts, tossing your catalogue of songs on the counter. He doesn't know if they have anything worth eating here, but he's gonna damn well try and find something.

"You're soft," Tess says to Joel, quick and quipping as she dumps what's left of her drink into the sink. "I'm going out."

Not much changes when she goes. You come to stand beside him at the counter, your elbow brushing his arm. He doesn't move away.

Joel doesn't understand why you stick around. Doesn't know what it is that makes you so sweet on him. The first time you met, outside the old meat market on the edge of curfew, he'd been standing watch as Tess made a deal. You'd slunk up on him from the right, and said, "You look unhappy," with your usual softness.

He'd turned to you in wonder. Wonder in the very worst sense of the word; what could possibly possess you to approach him? Agitation struck like the powdery head of a match against its box, fuck off on the tip of his tongue, and you'd said, "You ever hear that Bill Withers song? 'Ain't no sunshine without rain?'"

He'd thought you were a wannabe member of the resistance, and that fuck off had rolled right out of his mouth with ease. Your smile hardly wavered.

"It's 'when she's gone,'" he says now.

You look up at him, he looks down at you. His thick brows relax, and his brown eyes calm. It suits him, and you'd tell him, but you're confused.

"Huh?"

"That Bill Withers song. It's 'ain't no sunshine when she's gone,'" he corrects you, the you from the past. He's trying to tell you something without saying it out loud.

"Oh," you say. Your eyelashes kiss in the corners as you smile. "Right. What am I thinking of?"

"How should I know?" He doesn't sound mad, smiling at you very briefly.

"I don't know, I thought you knew everything."

That's not true. He can't know everything, because he doesn't have a clue in the world what he did to deserve meeting you.

—

please forgive any inaccuracies, I only played the game a little when I was much younger, and so this was made of my watching the first episode twice and some help from people / the wiki!! it's just for fun lol so I hope you enjoyed <3<3<3

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thepersonnamedsam · 9 months

Note

hello! i was hoping I could request something between gen z reader x the grid where she gets an anxiety attack or gets really anxious during press and how they would react or try to help her, could be due to something about the race or personal, love uuu<3

you’re gonna go far

pairing: the genz!driver x '23!grid

summary: social anxiety and social stuff don’t mix very well

word count: 2.3k

warnings: anxiety attack, angst, sexist comments

note: hiya!! yk i love your requests!! thank u <3

i have social anxiety myself, it’s written from my perspective - anxiety is experienced very different, pls remember that! and pls respect anyone who is experiencing anxiety or any mental disorder that is!

masterlist / taglist

We ain’t angry at you, love, you’re the greatest thing we‘ve lost.

The song blasted through her ears, tears started forming in her eyes. She missed home, so, so much. She felt guilty to leave all her friends and family at home to pursue her dreams. And this song, written by the brilliant Noah Kahan, just always made her cry and think about her hometown.

Well, maybe not always, mostly the days her anxiety sparks up - and today was one of those days. Usually media didn’t stress her out, but today was different. Her mood shifted and hyper sensitive, overstimulated and overwhelmed. And she usually had someone she trusted by her side at media, but not today. Today was just shit.

Paired with Lance, Kevin, Sergio and Niko, she just wished the day would be over. She was just glad that Daniel, Max, Oscar and Lewis would be after her, they would maybe wait for them to finish, so she could see them.

She was trying to help her calm down. Thinking about good possibilities and not bad ones. Not about how she would sit stiff and uncomfortable between Lance and Sergio. Or how she and Niko never really got along. Or how she couldn’t seek refuge in a known face. Or how she had to answer all the questions by herself and not have Max there to defend her and be her bodyguard.

And she was doing it again.

What was she gonna do? Breath, just breath - that’s what she told herself. She was in desperate need for a break. She knew what she was getting herself into, but it was still so very much. She was glad that Hungary was the second last race before the summer pause. She would go home, maybe vacation a bit, but definitely head home and see her friends and family.

Her feet dragged her through the media pit against her will. She didn’t want to go there, she just wanted to curl up in her bed with a good book and some music. Her headphones still present on her head, at least she had her music.

She was so focused on the words of You’re gonna go far that she didn’t see Lance in her peripheral vision. He patted her on her back and she flinched as he passed her. He gave her a funny look as she just gave him a shy smile.

She sighed, she didn’t know how she could face this day. She wished she had Lewis or Max or Danny by her side, someone to lean on, someone who would protect her and help her out. But she was all alone in this world right now. That’s what she thought at least.

Sat next to her was Kevin and Sergio. Her leg was bouncing, her fingers couldn’t stop picking at her nails. Her breathing was fast. She knew that things would turn out bad pretty fast. She just knew it.

„So, the next question is for y/n. Seeing as you’re the only woman on the grid, do you feel intimidated by all of the men or do you actually like the challenge?“

Her mind raced. What? She wished for Max who would give a sassy comeback or for Lewis to out the comment as borderline sexist. Or just anyone to stand up for her at that moment, but no one did.

„Uh, thank you for your question. Uhm, I am not the only woman on the grid. There are lots of women working behind the scenes - mechanics, engineers, catering, strategists, everything. So, to answer your question, no, I don’t feel intimidated, because I know that I come from a powerful gender.“

Her answer was clip and clear, not even her voice was shaking, which she half expected to. But the interviewer grew visibly irritated.

„Can you go into it a bit more? Or could you please comment on the statement Christian Horner did? Here, I’ll refresh your mind: F1 is bringing in a young generation. It’s bringing in a lot of young girls because of all these great-looking young drivers.“

What had that to do with his question beforehand? Horner made that statement a longer time ago?

„Uhm yes, obviously we all know Christian by now, don’t we?“, she nervously laughed. „But uhm, he is obviously still wrong, like I originally commented when he first made that statement“ Her eyes were searching for something or someone familiar, but she couldn’t. Her vision occupied by interviewers and flashing cameras.

Her breath started to get faster, She tried to breath through her nose, not make it too obvious that she was having a moment. This would make headlines. Female driver gets anxiety attack whilst commenting on sexist statements.

Why wasn’t Lewis there? He knew what to do. He had caught her like this before - breathing rapid, fists clenched and fingers white. Eyes not focusing on anything particular and her chest heaving up and down from all her heavy breathing.

It was after she had found out that people were speculating about her - specifically that she had to sleep with her or any team principal to get her seat in F1. Her head was leaned against the wall, her knees pulled to her chest and her body was rocking back and forth.

„y/n, y/n, listen, look at me. Listen to me, can you please look at me, love?“, he pleaded. And when she finally did, Lewis let out a breath of relief. „Okay, look at me, darling, and follow my breathing, yes? It’s easy, you can do it, I believe in you.“

He grabbed her hands and put them to his own chest, so she could feel his breathing. Feel his calm heartbeat, even though he felt anything opposite calm. He looked her deep into her eyes and tried to reassure that everything was going to be alright.

„You’re gonna go far, y/n, listen to me, I know it, you’re gonna make it far.“

Her breathing had normalised and the tears stuck in her eyes, finally flowed down her cheeks. The soon turned into full on sobs and the older driver hugged the younger one. Embracing her and reassuring her, that none of the drivers would have believed the tabloids - they’ve seen her driving and know very well why she got offered her seat in F1.

She had thanked him about a thousand times and made him promise not to ever tell anyone. But if somebody else knew, maybe they could’ve helped her in this situation.

But luckily for y/n, this was all broadcast live, well, maybe not for her per se, because she knew about too many people were watching her lose herself on live television and her PR manager couldn’t just pull some magic strings to not have this air, but what she didn’t know was, that Seb was watching - her specifically.

And he did the only reasonable thing he could do, he called Lewis.

„Hey dude, what’s up? Haven’t heard from you in a long time. How’s retirement treating you?“ Lewis had a lot of questions for the German. The later laughed a bit, but turned serious pretty quickly. „Listen, I’m watching the pre-race interviews right now-“ Lewis interrupted him: „Yeah? I’m on next, you should definitely wait and see me on TV then.“

„Yeah that’s great Lew, but y/n is on right now. I think- no I’m pretty sure she’s having an anxiety attack on live television.“

Lewis was silent for a moment. „She is having what?“ - „An anxiety attack, you know what that is? It’s, uhm, when you get too overwhelmed and your psyche tells you that you’re experiencing immense fear at the moment and“, Lewis was tuning him out.

She was having an anxiety attack? Right now? During the pre-race interview? He had to help her.

„I’m on my way, thanks Seb“, and he hung up. He had to get there as fast as he could. Sprinting through the entire paddock to the media pin. On the way he almost crashed into Max, who was also making his way to the pin, Daniel by his side. The only looked at Lewis weird but soon we’re running with him, as he shouted: „It’s y/n!“

They arrived but no one wanted to let them in: „It’s not your turn yet, they’re still going. You have to wait until it’s your turn, you’ll be on in 10.“

„Listen, y/n, if you’re reacting this way to my question, you’re clearly not made for this sport, maybe you should go into something more ladylike, like horseback riding or tennis, at least you’d look pretty there.“

„And you’re clearly not made to interviews, asshole!“

All of them heard, the viewers heard, the drivers heard, the interviewers heard, but y/n was the only one who didn’t hear it.

Maybe you should go into something more ladylike, like horseback riding or tennis, at least you’d look pretty there. That was all she could hear. At least you’d look pretty there.

The other drives next to y/n didn’t know what to do. Their colleague was definitely having a though time, but they didn’t know how to help, they opted to just tilt their heads towards the floor and look just as uncomfortable as everyone in the room did - but no one stood up for her, expect Max.

„Maybe you should just fucking leave this pit before I will bash your disgusting face. Maybe you should scramble and flee. Maybe you should eat your on dick as you seem to like to put tiny and degrading things in your mouth. Maybe-“, Daniel stopped him, Max has said enough and made his point.

Lewis was already making his way up to her. Scooping her up and carrying her out of the pit.

At least you’d look pretty.

The sentence was going through her head like a loop, like a vinyl that’s broken and repeats all the worst parts. She felt like a broken record - cracked and well, broken.

„She‘s hyperventilating“, Danial pointed out. „Yeah no shit, sherlock.“ - „Max, let’s just focus on her right now, okay?“, the seven time world champion told the two time world champion. „Who’s garage is the nearest?“, Lewis asked into the round. „The Ferrari one is the first one on the grid“, Daniel said. „Let’s go then.“

Daniel led the way, fetching Lando on the way, she’d appreciate the support from the youngster. Even though he complained a lot to Danny.

„Don’t look, don’t look, we’re just passing through“, Daniel said as he tried to shield her and Lewis from all the cameras in the Ferrari garage. „What are you guys doing here?“, Carlos questioned, but as soon as he saw the crying mess in Lewis‘ arms he helped Daniel shield y/n. Carlos led them to Charles‘ side of the garage, as he had his closed off for anyone from the outside.

„What’s going on?“, a confused Charles asked the group now standing in his garage. „Charles, we need to go somewhere quiet, is that possible?“, Lewis asked the Ferrari driver. He nodded and led them to his drivers room, even though it was pretty tiny and probably wouldn’t fit all of them in it.

They set y/n on his sofa and Lewis was hovering in front of her. Lando sat on her right side, while Max was on her left. He took her hand in his, squeezing it, so she knew that he was there. „Hey y/n look at me. We’re in Charles‘ drivers room, in the Ferrari garage. Away from the media pit, okay? You’re safe with us now“, Lewis told her. „Breath with us.“

„In and out, just like that, darling, follow Lewis‘ breathing“, Daniel complimented y/n. „You’re doing great, shatje. So, so great. We’re all so proud of you.“

„You can let it all out, we won’t judge you“, Charles told her and just as he did, the dam broke. Her tears fell down onto her knees, she sobbed uncontrollably. She leaned her head on Landos shoulder and he pulled her close into his side. „You’re doing so well, love.“ - „Just keep breathing, don’t forget to breath“, Carlos told her. He was standing in the doorway with Charles, acting as bodyguards.

Danny walked around the room, trying to find something for y/n to drink out of. „Hey Charles, do you have some water or a bottle?“ The driver clad in red reacted fast and brought the Australian a tall glass of water. He brought y/n the glass and she had to stop crying to drink. Afterwards she got the hiccups. „There, there love, everything’s okay“, Lewis took her glass and patted her knee. „Remember what I told you? You’re gonna go far, okay? Don’t let that prick tell you otherwise.“

„At least you’d look pretty there.“

„Huh?“, the room asked, as she mumbled the sentence.

„At least you’d look pretty there. That’s what he said“, she looked up from her seat, to the room full of supporting people. „At least you’d look pretty.“

Max was so angry again, he could’ve killed that man, if it wasn’t for Daniel holding him back. „I am going to kill that man“, Max growled. y/n giggled: „Maxie, don’t, he doesn’t deserve death. He deserves to live a long, pitiful life.“

„We’re glad you’re laughing again, y/n“, Charles said. „Yes, very much so.“ Everyone agreed with Charles. „I love you guys, but how’d you even know that I was having a tough time?“, y/n asked confused. Lewis had to laugh: „Seb called me. Said he saw you on the TV all riled up and ready to cry and that I should already be on my way to help you, but I talked over him the whole time“ He scratched his neck and y/n laughed a loud belly laugh. „That’s so typical!“

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @whatthefuckerr , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #fernando alonso #genz driver #sebastian vettel x reader #kevin magnussen #nico hülkenberg #lance stroll #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #female driver #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader

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primehyuck · 8 months

Text

MOVES

aka good things take time (the happy ending version)

word count: 11.3k

i first started writing this because i’ve been listening to the song Moves by Suki Waterhouse on repeat, but it became much more than that

contents: long time best friend!haechan, slice of life, pining and yearning, chronological time jumps (mostly college and young adulthood), other members mentioned (Mark and Jeno!roommates), kissing, fluff, wet dreams, a good example of two people who seriously need to communicate, face sitting, morning sex, lots of pet names

“Do you think we’ll be friends for a long time?” Haechan’s soft voice distracts your attempt to focus on a blade of the blurry ceiling fan, unable to keep you cool despite it spinning so fast you think it might fly away.

“How do you mean?” the bed squeaks when Haechan sits up to lean over you.

“Growing up, I feel like my parents didn’t have many friends aside from each other. My mom told me that it’s because when you get older your priorities change and you realize who adds value to your life, and that’s who you decide to keep.” His eyes are glowing with sincerity, body blocking the flow of air from touching you at all “so when we’re older, and married with kids and other priorities, and we maybe live in different cities, do you think we’ll still be friends?”

You stare at him for a moment before shoving his face out of the way of the fans air stream.

“Definitely,” your confidence soothes him enough that he lays back down “if I ever muster up the creativity to come up with a reason to stop being your friend, you have to swear you’ll tell me how stupid I’m being, swear to me.” you smack his chest before he can even answer.

“I swear!” He smiles to himself, staring up at the ceiling with you, rubbing his hand over the warm spot where your hand made contact, melting into the mattress.

———

Growing up people always joked that Haechan and you would fall in love, that it was inevitable, practical even. Because, if you fall in love with your best friend you’ve already conquered one of the highest mountains - finding someone that you like, and who likes you back.

You had both seen the other in a relationship, an inevitability when you’ve been friends with someone since puberty. He’d cheered you on when you had your first kiss during a game of spin the bottle in high school, forced you to come out on double dates with him and a friend of his you didn’t even like just so he could take someone else out, and freshman year of college he’d even introduced you to the person you'd lost your virginity to.

The only time he cockblocked you was when you tried to get to know any of his friends more than platonically, so eventually you gave up and settled for real friendship with all of them.

“Trust me, you don’t want to touch him with a six foot pole.” He’d said freshman year when you had mentioned your attraction to his roommate, Mark.

“He seems so nice, though.” you pouted

“He is nice, but that doesn’t mean you want to be with him.”

“How would you know what I want?” you scoffed, and he looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Has the wind beneath my wings ever led you into the wrong arms?” He was highly animated, offended that you would question his judgment.

By the start of sophomore year it was obvious to everyone else that you were strictly off limits. All of his friends had decided unanimously that even if you did attempt anything with them they had no choice but to shut you down. The cold stare Haechan unknowingly serves them from across the room whenever they got too close was enough to keep them away. None of the boys ever minded the boundaries with you, there always was an ease in your friendship since they all knew it could never go further, but that didn’t mean they never thought about the possibility.

One night, at the end of junior year, Haechan is nowhere to be found at his own party and you graciously accept Jeno’s invitation upstairs when you complain of a headache, “we can play Mario Kart, and it won’t be all competitive like when Haechan plays with us.”

It starts like normal, and you're having fun when you realize that your tipsy brain can’t focus on the screen and the conversation simultaneously, opting for the latter as you relax into Jeno’s pillows. You don’t even notice him inching closer to you until his nose touches yours, tugging at a strand of your hair. This is the first time any of Haechan’s friends have shown interest in you, you’d never even been on the receiving end of a flirtatious stare from across the beer pong table, so you take the reins.

Kissing Jeno feels a little bit like winning, like you’ve finally made it past the invisible forcefield Haechan had put up around his friends. The kiss is lazy and hot, Jeno props himself up on one elbow and presses your back into the mattress with his chest. Your eager fingers run beneath his shirt, his abs tightening when you trail them over his sides. Your spine tingles when he groans into your mouth, the hand on your cheek moving to grip your knee and hike your leg over his hip. His hand holds strong around your thigh, and you sigh when he grinds into you.

Jeno pulls away too soon, stopping your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt with a pained sigh as he drops your leg to roll onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes.

“Fuck, I should not be doing this with you.”

“Why, you don’t want to?” You want to curl into yourself, sitting up to stare down at his shaking head.

“No, definitely not that.” he pulls his arm away to meet your eyes, the alcohol in his veins making him brave enough to admit “Haechan would be pissed.”

“Haechan?” you question “did he say something to you?” Jeno groans, sitting up and hooking his elbows around his knees, staring at the mattress between his legs.

“No, no. He’s never actually said anything,” he knows he’s revealing too much, but he also knows he’s gone too far to stop “we just know he would never want us to cross that line with you.”

“We?” you can feel embarrassment bubbling in your chest at the idea of all of your friends talking about this.

“Yeah, you know, all the guys. We figured you were just off limits, I don’t know.” he grimaces, looking up at you with apologetic eyes when you don’t respond. You huff and climb off the bed, feeling rejected in more ways than one.

You’d crossed a boundary tonight, but Jeno was still a close friend, someone you’d spent a lot of time with since he met Haechan freshman year. He still knows you, so he grabs your wrist before you can leave, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed so he can stand you between his legs.

“I’m sorry, don’t be mad.” He envelops your hands in his and brings them to his chest.

“I’m not mad,” you mumble, avoiding his apologetic gaze “I’m embarrassed that all of my friends agreed not to touch me.”

“Did you really think not a single one of us was ever interested in you?” you shrug and he squeezes your hands tighter, heart tugging in his chest.

“When people don’t act interested, that’s usually a safe assumption.” you pout and Jeno’s laugh buzzes through your linked fingers "I gave up on all of you halfway through freshman year."

“Well, some of us are better actors than I remember.”

He has you laughing by the time you leave his room, sealing the night with one more self indulgent kiss and a pinky swear to never tell Haechan about what happened.

———

Halfway through the first semester of senior year Haechan bangs angrily on his roommates door before swinging it open and Jeno is genuinely shocked that it's taken this long for the gossip to hit his ears. The rest of the boys had clocked Jeno the next morning for being ‘too happy’ and he had to make them all swear not to tell, wanting to protect your pride and his own friendship with Haechan.

"You slut!" Haechan points an accusatory finger in Jeno's direction, dragging his feet slowly toward him until he's so close Jeno has to bat his hand out of his face.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Haechan's voice is low and angry, something new and unpleasant sparking in his gut at the idea of Jeno kissing you, touching you.

"No, I don't." Jeno can’t help but antagonize. Pleased with the perfect opportunity to trick Haechan into saying out loud what everyone else seems to have known for years.

"You kissed my best friend!" He shrieks, tossing his hands up in the air dramatically.

"So what, she's not allowed to kiss people?" Haechan squints his eyes at Jeno’s response, scrunching his nose in annoyance “how did you even find out?”

"She can kiss whoever she wants, it's all of you that aren't allowed to kiss her." Haechan waves his hand wildly toward the bedroom door, alluding to the large group of boys living in the house “you know Mark can’t keep a secret, he’s been bursting at the seams for months. All I had to do was ask.”

"It happened forever ago dude, why are you so pissed? You've never even given us a chance to get close to her in that way, maybe one of us could really like her." Jeno reasons, tugging at Haechan's strings, watching the gears in his brain turn as he tries to come up with a real argument.

"She has a boyfriend," Haechan finally says with a frown at the thought of the guy he’d only recently met, he doesn’t like him at all. From his stupid hair to the shoes he wears, there’s not a thing about your new boyfriend that Haechan thinks is good enough for you. He collapses into the gaming chair across from where Jeno is relaxed on the couch, not having moved at all since Haechan stormed in "plus, I think any of you would know by now, you've all known her for four years."

"I think, that it can take a lot longer than four years to realize how much you like someone." Jeno bites, "how long have you known her?"

"Since middle school." He picks at the hole in the knee of his black jeans, realizing what Jeno is alluding to, defensive exterior quickly crumbling.

"Right, I think that if you're blind enough then it can take ten years to realize how much you like someone."

"Well, maybe ten years is too long and that person missed their chance." Haechan turns his head to stare out the window, anxiously spinning the chair side to side.

"You know I'm talking about you, right?"

"God, yes, I know you're talking about me." Haechan glares at his friend, fidgeting stopping abruptly "and I know I've been a complete idiot about it, but like I said, I’m out of time."

———

Haechan can’t stop his free hand from clenching and unclenching as you sob into your pillow, his less angry hand rubbing over your back.

“He told me he saw us moving in together after graduation,” your voice shakes “how do you look someone in the eyes and say shit like that and then sleep with someone else?”

“I don’t know,” Haechan replies earnestly, feeling as helpful as flip flops in the snow from where he sits on the edge of your mattress “I’m so sorry.”

He takes your silence as an invitation, lying on his stomach, face turned toward you, fingers still drawing soothing circles over your shoulder blades. He waits patiently for you to calm down, unease swarming his stomach knowing that even after years of friendship he can’t truly comfort you in this moment.

“I’m so embarrassed.” you sniffle, smearing your face over your pillow before turning to look at him. He holds his breath, waiting for you to collect yourself enough to explain.

“I’m so gullible, he even told me he’s cheated in the past and for whatever reason I believed that he’d treat me differently, that he’d love me enough.” Haechan has to count to five in his head to stay calm before he speaks.

“You have no reason to be embarrassed. The most natural thing you can do is believe someone when they say they love you.” He murmurs, turning onto his side so he can pull you into a hug. When you curl into his body to bury your face in his chest he can only pray you can’t hear his heart pound against his ribs.

“He’s an idiot, and he didn’t deserve any of the love you gave him. I promise, you’re so much better off.”

Haechan hates the piece of himself that’s relieved your relationship has ended. The same piece that hated your ex the minute he met him, that feels heavy in your absence whenever you’re busy with anyone who isn’t him. The piece that crosses it’s fingers whenever you get this close in hopes that you’ll be the first one to cross the line, to finally do what he’s thought about doing for the last few months since he realized exactly how he felt about you.

“Thank you,” you mumble into his tear dampened shirt, lifting your leg over his to cuddle in even closer “thanks for always being my friend, even when I do dumb shit, like let boys be mean to me.”

He nuzzles his nose into your scalp, eyes fluttering shut at the smell of your shampoo “Thanks for letting me. Besides, even Beyoncé got cheated on, so you clearly aren’t that dumb.” the crowd in his brain cheers when you giggle into his chest.

“You’re so annoying.” He holds you even tighter.

———

“I can’t believe it,” your jaw drops and Haechan whips his head up nervously to look at you from across the couch

“What happened?”

“I got it, I got the job!” you shove his feet off your lap to jump up excitedly, bouncing on your toes as you read the email out loud. Haechan’s ears are ringing so loud he barely catches the first half, trying to shake off the dazed look he’s sure appears on his face.

“We were extremely impressed with your resume and even more so with the impression you left on the board during your interview, blah blah blah, excited to offer you this position, blah blah blah, and a relocation bonus to join us in in our new office!” the pitch of your voice rises a few octaves as you finish reading.

Haechan stares at you from his spot on the couch, eyes wide with shock that you’re too excited to notice, skimming your screen as you re-read the details in your offer letter.

His entire body is buzzing, torn between feeling excited at your accomplishment and sorry for himself.

He had a plan, a really good one, he thought. After your breakup you’d made it painfully clear that you wanted to be single for a while, and he knew if he could just be patient, it would all be worth it. So Haechan decided to bottle his feelings up, sitting patiently by your side where he had been for so many years, waiting for you to heal and hoping that when you were finally ready to start dating again he’d have mustered up the courage to make the first move.

“Lee Donghyuck, are you even listening to me!?” you drop your phone to pull him up off the couch, bouncing up and down with your fingers intertwined “I’m moving to my dream city, to start my dream job.” you reiterate and he snaps out of it, sweeping the imaginary shards of glass that his plan had been made out of under the rug and pulling you into a hug.

“That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you.”

“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.” You deadpan, but squeeze him back just as tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to miss you is all.” He admits, "I'd follow you if my job didn't keep me here."

“I’ll make sure you don’t miss me too much, don’t worry.” you plant your cheek on his chest, surprised at the relief you feel in hearing him say it first.

———

This feeling was still a little unfamiliar, nerves. Haechan had never made you nervous growing up; excited, annoyed, passionate maybe, but never nervous.

The nerves began last summer, when he’d come out to visit you for the first time to celebrate his birthday. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you’d met, almost ten full months and the anticipation was palpable.

When he steps through the airport doors you think that it’s the relief of finally being near him again that knocks the wind out of you. Running into his open arms and being squeezed so tightly in them that you tap his shoulder to let you breathe. Ruffling his hair when he steps back and ignoring the fact that he had grown so much since you’d seen him last.

But as the night goes on, the slight changes to the person you have memorized become glaringly obvious. The way his cheeks have lost some of their cushion, revealing a sharp jaw and pointed cheekbones. The natural wave in his once unruly hair now falling perfectly over his brow bone, he had dyed it a little darker which made his tan skin glow even in dim lighting. Even his smell seemed to draw you into a trance, a much more expensive version of the Haechan you know.

“You know, that group of girls has been staring over at you since we walked in.” You raise your eyebrows playfully, pointing your glass toward the pretty gaggle that keeps walking past the booth you and Haechan occupy.

He doesn’t break eye contact with you before shrugging, “I didn’t come here to see them, I came to see you.” he smiles, punctuating his thought by reaching over the table and tapping your nose.

“I know, I know,” you laugh, batting him away “It never hurts to know when people are staring, though”

His face is unreadable as he rests his arm lazily up over the bench of the booth, body sinking into the seat while he lifts his glass to swirl his drink, biting the words that have been resting on the tip of his tongue the entire trip, and at the end of every phone call since you started your new job.

“How are you, seriously.” You push. In the time since you moved he’d started and ended a relationship with a girl that you’d never met. Your new job kept you so busy that you hadn’t even learned about the breakup until a week later, when you finally had the time to call him back. The guilt of your absence weighs you down, resenting your inability to be there for him the way he had been for you in the past.

“I’m over it, seriously.” You know he’s telling the truth, but it’s in your nature to pry.

“You never really talked about, why, you know.”

“Do I have to?”

“No, I’m sorry, I just feel so behind on your life.” You sigh and push your empty glass to the side, swirling your finger in the ring of cold water it leaves behind.

“It’s okay, really. You’ve been busy, I understand.” He reaches across the table to stop your anxious fingers “I didn’t love her the way I knew I should, that’s all. It’s a good thing that it ended, and I’m happy that it did.”

“That’s all that matters, then.” and he’s grateful that you drop the subject.

You eventually get back to your apartment, both giggly and flush from the alcohol still fogging your brain despite the long walk you'd hoped would lessen it. Haechan holds your hand the whole way back, even when he stops suddenly to pet a dog, dragging you down to the ground with him. He can’t help himself, grateful that at this point you'd touched one another in every way other than what he dreams about most, and you seem oblivious to his need to be so close to you.

As you get ready for bed he lets himself watch you undress facing the wall away from him, unaware of his gaze burning into your backside and the way his fingers tingle at the thought of pulling at the meat of your hips. He scolds his heart for thudding so loud when you squeeze your eyes into a smile at his reflection standing next to yours at the sink while you brush your teeth, the domestication of your friendship that he used to appreciate now suffocating him.

You put on a movie and invite him to rest his head on the pillow in your lap, wishing he could bury his nose into the skin of your thighs beneath it. Halfway through the movie he has to sit up to hide the way his cock is hardening at the feeling of your nails combing through his hair and down his shoulder, occasionally thrumming over his chest. He pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over his legs as casually as possible, pulling you into his side by your shoulder, the other arm stretched across the back of the couch.

"Are you cold for the first time in your life?" Haechan never wants to use a blanket, but you’re grateful for the position giving you access to bury your face into his chest, gripping his shirt.

"No, just want to be warmer." he presses a blushing cheek onto the top of your head, trying to think of anything except the way your hair smells, or the feeling of the side of your breast brushing his wrist through your shirt. Haechan feels eighteen again and like he's discovering the connection between romantic and sexual feelings for the first time in his life. He tries to match his breathing to yours, holding his breath whenever you shift in his hold and reconnecting his stomach with your back as quickly as possible. The temptation to pour his heart out is overwhelming, but when he feels your body completely relax into his and your breathing slow down, the words become trapped in his throat, so he lets you sleep.

Haechan had never experienced a shorter 48 hours than that weekend he spent following you around the city you now call home.

You’re shining in your new space, and he happily trails behind you to all the places you’ve discovered in the almost year since you moved. His stomach does somersaults whenever you point something out that reminds you of him.

“I’ve been waiting to come here until you could come with me!” you're so excited to take him to the video game themed coffee shop that your co-workers had recommended “I thought about coming to see if it was even worth it, but I only want to play these kinds of games with you anyway.”

Sometimes he can forget about his feelings for you, when things are just as they always have been. You talk with and touch him the same, laugh at his jokes the same. He thinks that if he were to ever say out loud what he’s been feeling, that the two of you would still be the same but with a little More, ‘you guys’ but on steroids. So when everything is normal he can pretend like it‘a not. He can act like the More is there when you hold his hand to drag him around to the different machines, play games he wants to play even if you don’t want to, you even wipe ice cream off of his chin when his cone starts to melt because he’s talking too much to eat and he wonders why it took him so long to see it this way, and if you could too.

He keeps thinking the moment will come, when he’ll know spilling his guts to you is the right thing to do. But between you gushing over how much you love your new life and your willingness to point out every girl who has blinked at him this weekend, he completely loses the steam he’d gained during his flight, regardless of how his imagination runs wild with the More.

He curses himself the entire weekend for his lack of bravery, hoping that keeping his feelings in is the right decision. After his recent relationship crashed and burned because of his feelings for you he thought he had no choice but to come clean. But watching you, being with you in your new life makes him realize that his role in it hasn’t changed even if his feelings for you have.

The lump in his throat as he stands outside the departure doors is more than just sadness at the thought of leaving you, it’s the realization that he has to let the romantic idea of you go.

“How come you never cry when we have to leave each other,” you hiccup into his chest, and he coos your name lovingly.

“Don’t worry, you know I save my tears for the plane to make everyone in my row uncomfortable.” He knows that you hate that he’s making you laugh at a time like this, pulling away so you can swat his chest and he raises his hands in surrender.

“When will we be able to see each other again?”

“As soon as possible.” He nods reassuringly, wiping your tears with his thumb, heart pounding as he stares into your watering eyes “hey, you’re my best friend in the world, you annoy me every day, and I love you.”

“Whatever, I love you too.” you laugh, but his heart speeds up at the words that you’ve said to him thousands of times. You sweep your arms around him one last time before pushing him toward the airport doors “you better go, if you miss your flight I can’t guarantee I’ll let you leave at all.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He walks backwards slowly, staring at you with a ‘kicked puppy’ kind of face he mastered years ago and you wave enthusiastically, blowing loud kisses into the air that he catches and clutches to his heart.

“This is it,” he thinks, “this has to be it.”

———

Haechan is dreaming about you. He has been nightly ever since he got back from his birthday weekend. He’s grateful the dreams have variety, since some of them overwhelm him to the point of waking up and not being able to fall back asleep.

Sometimes, you’re young again and whenever anyone says “You know, it’s just a matter of time until one of you has a crush on the other.” you both theatrically gag, laughing at each other as if it were the most insane idea in the world. Or, you're sitting on his childhood couch watching your guys' favorite movie for the hundredth weekend in a row, vocalizing the parts of the two main characters and recreating all the best scenes.

Sometimes you’re at his apartment just hanging out together, which are dreams that feel so real he almost expects to see you in his kitchen when he wakes up. Most of these dreams spark a deja vu laced flame in his gut so deep he finds himself confusing them with memories. The ache of missing you wakes him up before his alarm some mornings, and he finds himself face timing you once he knows you're awake just to watch you make coffee and wash your face.

But sometimes, he has dreams that make him feel so ashamed he can barely text you back in the morning. Dreams where he reaches to touch you and you let him, where you tug at his hair and moan his name while he does all the things that he can only do to you in his sleep. He hates to say that these are his favorite, but it's the one dream he knows he'll never actually achieve and he goes to bed every night praying for them.

That’s the kind of dream he’s having when his phone buzzes him awake. He answers without looking because there are only a handful of people who can reach him when he’s on ‘do not disturb’, and you’re one of them. He hums a sleepy greeting into his phone, putting it on speaker next to his pillow and nearly drifting right back into the dream and between your thighs.

“Donghyuck” his eyes shoot open at the sound of your voice “did i wake you up?”

He can practically hear the pout in your voice, squinting at the time on his phone, “Yes, it’s three in the morning,” he stares down to where he’s half hard, running an embarrassed hand over his face even though there’s no possible way for you to know “are you okay?”

“No, well technically yes but I miss you which means things could be better.” you slur your words and Haechan smiles, somehow he's never annoyed that you call him pretty much every time you drink. He thinks it's because he's familiar with this version of you, though he definitely hasn't seen it often since college graduation. This version of you loves him hard, and is never afraid to say it.

"I miss you too," he takes a beat before adding "I was dreaming about you just now."

You gasp excitedly "Really! What were we doing." He smirks at the thought of telling you that you had been sitting on his face, hand reaching back for his cock while he guides your cunt over his tongue until you were shaking above him.

"Just, hanging out." he shrugs. It's his second time this week alone dreaming of your clit bumping his nose, and the thought makes his mouth water.

"I don't believe you." You say accusingly "that's way too boring for a mind like yours to dream up."

"What exactly is my mind like?" He yawns, throwing his forearm over his eyes.

"Oh, you know," you hum "your mind is a galaxy, with at least a billion planets and twice as many stars. I wish I could fly into your head and explore it, but NASA doesn't have the funds."

Haechan holds his breath at your compliment, the smile on his face so wide he can hear it in his own voice "That sounds like an episode of Magic School Bus."

"Your brain is definitely cooler than some cartoon, it's pretty much my favorite place on Earth."

"How would you know, you've never actually been inside?" He shakes his head, teasing you gently. Hearing words like these come out of your mouth breaks his heart and glues it back together at the same time.

"Are you saying you never think about me?" you ask him, not an ounce of sarcasm in your voice.

"I think about you all the time, I promise, all the planets in my brain are shaped like you." You hum, pleased with his response. He shuts his eyes and waits for your answer.

"Yeah, all the planets in mine are shaped like you, too." you pause for a second and add "plus all the stars, I win, I think about you more."

———

This time when Haechan comes to visit you, you know the nerves are more than just excitement at seeing your best friend. It’s a feeling that is nestled so deep in your stomach it makes you a little nauseous. You haven't seen him since you went home for the holidays and he only has one night in the city. You find yourself grueling over your reflection in the mirror, not used to being self conscious in front of him. You’re only going out for happy hour, but you put yourself together to last all night.

When Haechan finally arrives he whistles lowly, making you blush when he pulls out of your hug and requests a spin.

“I appreciate that you got so dressed up for me.” He teases, hoping you don’t catch his eyes sweeping over your legs, wanting to commit you in this dress to memory.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes as if you hadn’t spent the last two hours making sure you looked as perfect as possible. Hoping he doesn’t see the pile of clothes shoved into your closet from all the failed attempts.

“Never,” he grabs your purse off of the counter and opens the door, sweeping his arm out in front of him dramatically “after you. There are some strangers outside who are waiting to catch a glimpse of you, they just don’t know it yet.”

“You are so dramatic.” You lock the door behind you, using the moment facing away from him to collect yourself. Lately you catch yourself wondering if he'd always been so flirtatious, or if you're just forcing meaning behind his words because of how badly you want him to be.

“What, a guy can’t compliment his best friend?”

You smile widely at him and grab your bag out of his grasp, popping your key inside and walking toward the entrance of your building. Praying your fingers stop shaking when you finally get a drink in you. Haechan throws his arm around your shoulders while you walk down the street to your favorite cocktail bar and you're grateful for his usual chatter, talking to you about work and his slow climb up the ladder.

“They put me in a hotel this time, so you don’t have to worry about making me breakfast in the morning.” He smiles at you, sipping his drink gingerly.

“You know I never cook you breakfast.” He feels so far away across the table and you wish that you were sitting next to him instead, shoulders cold without the weight of his arm around them. It feels so good to have him touch you, to feel like you're his. There's a small part of you that feels guilty for using his knack for physical affection to your advantage, he has no idea what the heat of his skin on yours does.

“I know, but all the meetings are in the hotel anyway so it’s easier this time to just stay there.”

You try not to let yourself visibly deflate at the news, wanting to keep him for yourself the whole time he’s in town. His knee presses against yours under the table and you focus all your energy into acting the way you would have before, but you can’t focus on anything else and cross your legs to pull away from him as casually as possible. As badly as you want to touch him, sometimes you can’t.

“What time do you have to be up?”

He groans, leaning back enough that his knee now slides against your shin, “too early,” and glances down at his now empty glass, motioning to the bartender for another “which means you need to drink faster, so I can stop at a reasonable hour.”

You smile, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp, when his foot taps against yours you know it's going to be a long night.

The end of the night finds you together on your couch with a shared bottle of wine sitting empty on the coffee table, his early meetings temporarily forgotten. You and Haechan have been in this position plenty of times, drunk, slap happy and overly touchy in a way that you had always been comfortable being with one another. The difference now is you, this version of you who wants your best friend in an entirely different way.

Every time he pulls you closer you feel electricity shoot straight to your heart so intensely that you have to duck out of his grasp. You don’t know what to do with the feelings that have been growing gradually from your toes up, now practically sprouting out of your scalp with a neon sign blinking “I’m in love with you” over and over.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Haechan whines when you all but flinch away from his hand reaching for his phone near your arm. He’d been aware of it all night, the space you left between the two of you while you walked back from the bar, your sudden inability to maintain the eye contact that he craved. The complete lack of physical touch makes him feel dejected.

“Doing what?” You give him a panicked look, practically sober at the thought of being found out, of what it would feel like to be rejected by him.

“You’re not letting me touch you,” he frowns, and the alcohol buzzes through your veins again “not that you need to let me, but you only avoid it like this when you’re upset. Did I do something?” he pouts, tired eyes low when he flops his head onto his bicep resting on the back of the couch. You forget to breathe for a second when he looks up at you under dark lashes.

“I’m not upset. I wasn’t doing it on purpose.” you’re lying through your teeth, but scoot an inch closer to him to make your point. He doesn’t look convinced, and if you’d had less to drink you may have noticed the mischievous glint in his eye before he grabs you by your arm, knocking you off balance and into his chest.

“See,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arms around your body and you can feel his chest buzz when he hums, cheek pressed to the top of your head. You have no choice but to ungracefully shift your lower body closer to him, making yourself a sponge and soaking in his familiar touch “isn’t that better?”

You nod, “Yes, it is better.” and you really wish he didn’t know you so well, that even in his fifth hour of being drunk he can read your mind. He pulls your ear off his heart to grab your cheeks, smushing them together and whispering your name with a shake of his head.

“What is it?” he urges, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist to loosen his grip. You shut your eyes, take a deep breath and count to three in your head before you can talk yourself out of leaning forward and pressing your lips to his.

You feel him falter for a half second before he’s kissing you back, pulling your face closer and pushing his body toward yours. You can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears when his tongue touches yours, and then suddenly his mouth is gone. He moves so quick you have to put your arms out to stop yourself from face planting into the cushion he had just been sitting on.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” you gasp “i shouldn’t have done that, Haechan, I’m so sorry.”

It takes everything in you to look up to where he’s now standing with his arms crossed over his chest protectively. You have no idea what he’s thinking, staring down at you with wide eyes. Insecurity sweeps through you under his intense gaze, and you almost beg him to say something.

“I’m seeing someone,” the way the confession rings in your ears would have you believing that he screamed the words, but his voice was barely above a whisper “shit, I’m sorry.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your life that flashes before your eyes, or your years of friendship with him, at this point the two tend to blur together.

“That’s-” you sit back on your calves and inhale shakily, knowing it’s not even worth it to attempt to fake any sort of excitement for him “why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, swallowing thickly and pulling his eyes away from your face to stare at the ceiling “It’s new and I didn’t know how. It just never came up.”

“Well then, I’m sorry that it didn’t. I shouldn’t have done that, I don’t know what came over me.” grateful that he’s finally the one avoiding eye contact with you so he doesn’t see your legs wobble when you stand “probably best to pretend that never happened. I’m just drunk and I missed you-”

Your name sounds so pathetic when he says it this time and you think it’s the eighth wonder of the natural world that you haven’t started crying yet. You shake your head instead, wishing so desperately that you had changed out of the dress you were wearing as you pull the slinky material down your thighs.

“Honestly, Haechan,” You regret your next words before they even hit the air “you should probably go. You have an early morning.”

The shock on his face pains you, but you can’t stand to see what you can only assume is pity growing in his eyes for another second.

“I don’t want to go, I want to talk about this.”

“I’m sorry.” you say again and his shoulders slump in defeat, recognizing that you’d made up your mind.

“It’s okay.” He means it, shuffling forward and the look on your face is nearly enough to bring him to his knees. His breath catches when you shift away the inch he moved toward you, eyes locked on his and he can see the desperation in them before he hears it in your voice.

“Text me when you get to the hotel?” your voice cracks with a heavy mix of exhaustion and embarrassment that makes him nods once, grabbing his things and walking slowly toward your door. He turns to look at you, but his words catch in his throat when he sees your eyes begin to water, mustering up all his energy to offer what he prays is a reassuring smile before letting himself out.

You sink back into the couch when the door clicks shut, head hanging in your hands as the tears finally start to flow. You cry so hard you feel like you could throw up, replaying his rejection over and over in your mind, shame and regret coursing through your veins. Pure embarrassment heats your body at the look on his face when he told you he was seeing someone, and you’re not sure if it was disgust or pity in his eyes.

On top of the rejection, knowing that he didn’t feel like he could share something as big as meeting someone with you was a dagger to the heart, up until recently you had never kept a secret from him, and even this one you clearly couldn’t keep in for long.

You force yourself into the shower, scrubbing angrily at your skin under the scalding water. You get out once your fingers have pruned and your skin feels raw, avoiding the mirror on your way to your bedroom. You kick angrily at the dress you'd left on the floor, watching it land near the pile of outfits you had discarded while getting ready.

Haechan had texted you nearly thirty minutes earlier

“made it back”

you give it a thumbs up before turning your phone off, setting an alarm with the clock on your side table and letting the emotional exhaustion lull you to sleep.

------

Haechan is realizing that there is no way in hell that you need space more than he needs to talk to you. He tries to call you multiple times the first week after you kissed him but you never answered, and Haechan doesn’t want to push you to the point of no return. What he really wants is to go back in time and not leave you that night, but the pain in your eyes was so pronounced he couldn't bare to make it any worse. The only physical proof that you had kissed him at all being the stupid blue thumbs up on the text he had sent you that night. It's followed by a slew of reassuring texts, saying that he broke up with his girlfriend and if you would please just talk to him, that he's not mad.

This is the feeling he carries with him nearly two weeks later on the flight to you, when he’s sure that another minute of silence from you will kill him. By the time he gets to your apartment it’s almost midnight, so he knocks loud enough to wake you up.

When you open the door in a shirt he thinks might be his, Haechan knows he has no choice. He's speaking before you can say anything, before he can change his mind.

"I came here to tell you that I think you're being really stupid." He curses internally for the obvious nerves in his voice, your tired eyes widen with shock at his words.

"Excuse me?"

"Years ago you made me swear that I would tell you if you ever came up with a reason not to be my friend anymore. So I'm telling you now, I think you're being really fucking stupid."

"I'm not doing that" You defend yourself, tearing up at the sight of him. He pushes into your apartment, shutting the door behind him and standing close enough to touch. He’s staring you down with pleading eyes, and you bury your face in your hands so you don’t have to look at him.

“Then why are you ignoring me? Why won’t you let me fix this?”

“I don’t know I just,” you inhale shakily “I don't know how to do it right now, not like this."

"Like what?" He hopes he already knows the answer, but needs to hear you say it, to know that you’re as serious as he is. Your mouth feels full of cotton when he forces you to look at him by whispering your name, pulling your hands from your face and his heart pinches tightly at the tears welling in your eyes "please tell me, please. Like what?"

"You already know," your bottom lip betrays you, voice weak beneath heavy emotion when you speak "I love you, Haechan. I'm in love with you, and I don't know what to do about it. I feel like I fucked everything up, but I can’t undo it."

He feels his lungs fill with relief. Haechan steps forward to close the small gap between your bodies, grabbing your jaw to rest his forehead against yours. You falter, but his hand on the small of your back keeps you from going anywhere, he's practically panting and you can barely stand, dizzy with the feeling of him. You want to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming when he whispers "You didn't fuck anything up."

He ghosts his lips over yours for a moment until he's sure you're not going to stop him. When he finally kisses you it's with years of pent up adoration, directing your arms around his neck and pressing his thumb firmly into your jaw, long fingers wrapping around the side of your throat. He practically whines when your fingers tighten in his hair and your lips part for his warm tongue. His arm wraps around your waist so tightly you have to hinge backward to keep your mouths connected, gasping at the strength you didn't know he had.

He keeps your stomach flush to his own and kisses you until you're practically limp in his arms, pulling away to breathe. His eyes are shut as he rubs his nose over yours

"I love you, too. I've been meaning to tell you for a while." All the blood rushes into your ears at his words and you can't stop your biggest worry from spilling into the air.

“What if you change your mind?”

“I made up my mind a long time ago, there's nothing you could do to change it." He blinks his eyes open, pulling his face away from yours just enough to see you, the trepidation in your eyes makes him say your name quietly.

"It's only me, you know me," he assures you in a hushed tone "you have to know by now that you are my entire world."

You could laugh, only him, as if he hasn’t been one of the most important people in your life since the day you met. As if he isn’t someone who has seen you at every stage of it so far. It’s Haechan, who has always been funny, who has witnessed the worst sides of you and never made you feel bad, who has never left your side.

You kiss him again, fingers wrapping in tight fists around his shirt to keep yourself grounded. Haechan’s heart pounds happily in his chest and he hopes you can feel it this time, both hands nestling into your hair. He kisses you gently in an effort to slow down your urgent movements, moaning at the taste of your mouth. You fall into his rhythm easily, the way his tongue rolls gently over yours makes your body go up in flames. You move your hands to slide beneath his shirt, landing on the strong muscles in his back and teasing your fingers up his sides.

When you finally come up for air he stares at you for a minute before laughing, stomach tightening beneath your fingers when he does.

"What's funny?" you shut your eyes, leaning your forehead into his chest, letting the pretty sound ring in your ears.

"Nothing, I'm just-" he cuts himself off with a shrug, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head "I love you, and you love me back. That's all, that's how easy it is."

"It hasn't been easy at all, in fact my life has been very very hard since your birthday last year.” He pulls away from your head to ogle at you.

"My birthday last year?" You nod, feeling your cheeks flush under his intense gaze, it had really been that long "God, I'm sorry I'm such a fucking idiot."

He's kissing you again before you can ask him to elaborate, grabbing hold of both wrists in one hand while he walks you backward and guides you up onto the counter as slowly as he has to in order to keep his lips on yours. His hips are the perfect height for you to wrap your legs around, gasping in surprise when he slides his hands around your ass and presses your core tightly against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You feel shy when you pull away to ask if he wants to go to your bedroom, feeling frozen in place when he stares at you with half lidded eyes, his plump lips swollen and red.

"Tonight, I'm just kissing you." Every cell in his body is screaming in protest at his own words. He can't express how badly he wants to do everything else, to recreate his dreams, to learn the parts of your body he'd never seen before. But he can't imagine doing anything but this tonight, just this; his lips on yours, your breath in his lungs and your body melting into his.

"Why?” your eyebrows pull together in confusion. You practically shiver with need, tucking your arms between your stomachs and burying your nose in his throat. His laugh buzzes against your face, rubbing his hands gently over your shoulders and trying to control his own breathing as your lips brush over his skin.

All he can say is, “Because I’ve been needing to for a long time.”

“How long?” You pull away from his chest, leaning back onto your hands and closing your eyes when he runs his own down your sternum and over your waist, groping at the flesh of your hips and trying not to regret his romantic side.

“Way too long.”

“Your birthday?” you ask, tugging gently at his shirt. He plants his hands outside of your legs to lean in close, one corner of his mouth pulling up.

“Much longer.” Your eyes widen in shock, and he interrupts you before you can question him “can we talk about it later? I have something really important to do tonight.”

———

He tells you that he's had feelings for you since senior year of college, when you kissed Jeno. He tells you about his plan to admit everything when he had seen you on his birthday, but that he was too scared. He assures you he ended his relationship the moment he got back home the previous week “because everyone has felt like a matter of 'when' it will end, not 'if',” He tells you that just two weeks of your silence hurt worse than any previous heartbreak, and you agree. And before you fell asleep next to him he tells you again, ‘I'm so in love with you.’ and shimmies excitedly when you say it back before kissing you until you can barely keep your eyes open. He holds your cheeks in his hands and practically lulls you to sleep with his tongue, plush lips pressing to yours so gently you can hardly feel them dotting around the rest of your face. He thinks he could do this forever before sleep finally catches up with him, his arm slung over your side to hold your face to his chest.

You wake up curled into a familiar side, your first emotion being giddy as the night floods back to you. Despite your obvious willingness to go further, Haechan had meant it when he said he'd only be kissing you. It made you crazy at first, but when the two of you were staring at each other in the mirror with shy eyes while moving through a nighttime routine you had gotten familiar with years before, you were happy he had the self control you clearly lack. The idea of him actually seeing and touching you in ways he never had before, of doing all the things you'd found yourself imagining him doing over the last year; it was overwhelming. Kissing until your jaw was sore and your lips were swollen felt easy.

You’re startled by Haechan’s hand reaching for yours, holding your palm and bringing your fingers to his lips to press a kiss to each one, “good morning.” his voice is deep and tired, mouth landing on the crown of your head.

"Good morning." You press your nose into his chest happily, gripping his hand in yours and resisting the urge to squeal with delight.

"What are you so excited about, me?" He teases, hand falling on your thigh to guide your leg up the front of his, stopping just below his crotch and you hope he's going to give you what you'd been wanting all night, for the last year.

"You, I just can't believe how happy I am." You admit, lifting your head off of his chest to smile at him. He pulls you right back down, kissing your lips once before rolling you both over so he's on top of you. He presses a hand over your collarbone and drags his lips down your chin and over your throat.

"You know, this means you're all mine now." he smirks against your neck when you nod, gasping when he sucks gently at the base. He has one forearm on the mattress, the other hand too gentle on your ribs. You can feel that he's hard and you immediately roll your hips up.

"Does this mean you're gonna do more than just kiss me now?" you intend to sound confident, but it comes out as a whimper. His nose brushes over your jaw before he presses lingering kisses to your chin and cheek.

"Yes, baby, if you'll let me." You nod eagerly, shifting your face so your lips are beneath his and sighing happily when he lowers his weight onto your torso, licking into your mouth. You shiver with anticipation when he pushes at your shirt, long fingers tickling up your side before landing on your breast. You gasp into his mouth when his thumb brushes over your already hard nipple.

Your impatience is overwhelming, grabbing the back of his shirt and tugging it up to his shoulders. He pulls away reluctantly, reaching one hand toward his back and pulling his shirt over his head. You gnaw at your lip, running your hands over his stomach and hooking your knees around his hips as much as you can while stretching your arms over your head.

“Cute.” he murmurs, pulling your shirt up and tossing it to the side. He gropes at your chest, tongue wetting his lips before he leans down to wrap them around one of your nipples. He’s trying to act without thinking, to let the dreams he’s had pave the path down your body because he knows the second he acknowledges his nerves he won’t be able to shake them off. His heart thrums when you gasp above him, arching your chest into his mouth. He’s greedy for your sounds, his hands squeezing your breasts together and licking between them to get to the other nipple. When your hips buck up into his he groans, pulling away from your chest and staring down at you with wondering eyes.

“Can I?” He feels unnaturally shy, leaning back on his calves and watching his fingers press dimples into the flesh of your hips above your underwear, tugging at the hem.

“You don’t need to ask.” He smiles, forcing you to sit by grabbing the back of your neck for a kiss. His fingers press into your clothed core and your hips roll into his hand. He sighs into your mouth at your desperation, torn between teasing you and touching you everywhere.

You can’t keep your legs from shutting around his arm when he pushes your panties to the side and slides his middle and ring finger up your wet center, circling over your clit.

You pull away from the kiss, blinking up at him and your mouth falls open when he presses firmly on your clit, rubbing in slow circles. His head hangs as he lets out a quiet “fuck” at your reaction, moving his hand off your neck to stroke over your stomach and without it behind your head you have to lie back, he presses your legs open. Haechan stares at your chest while he settles between your knees, pushing two fingers inside your dripping core. His jaw hangs open, watching his knuckles disappear inside of you.

“So soft,” he breathes, staring down to where his fingers glisten when he pulls them out to rub over your clit again, palming over his cock getting harder in his sweats “want to be everywhere at once.”

“Want you everywhere.” you whine when his fingers pull away to hook into your underwear, tugging them down your legs. Haechan stands to strip and you hold your breath and soak in the soft swell of his hip that leads to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs. It’s pretty like the rest of him, and thicker than you'd expected with a leaking tip that matches the color of his tongue, he strokes himself once and you don’t get the chance to reach for him before he lays back on the bed, rolling you to sit on top of him. You shudder when your pulsing clit rubs over his stomach, inner thigh squeezing into his ribs. He runs his hands up your waist, scooting you an inch higher and grabbing onto your tits.

“Do you remember a few months ago, when you called me drunk and I told you I was dreaming about hanging out with you?” He shivers when you grind down in response, wet pussy sliding easily over his skin “I lied.”

Your hands press into his chest, tilting your head “what were we doing?” you can barely speak above a whisper when he pinches gently at your nipple with one hand, the other rubbing over your ribs when he smirks up at you.

“You were about a foot higher than you are right now,” you gasp and reach out to grab the headboard when he jolts his hips to move you up his chest, staring down at him with wide eyes as he shifts to wrap his arms under your legs, fingers pressing into your thighs.

“You dreamt about this?” you let him bring your hips to hover over his face, hands falling into his hair when he brushes his nose over your clit as he nods.

“All the time,” he moans and drags you down onto his face, lips wrapping around your clit. You shudder above him, letting some of your weight collapse into your heels and he groans happily at the pressure of you on his chin, pressing you harder onto his mouth to fuck his tongue into you. He wants to devour you, every sound you make goes straight to his cock which is already rock hard at the taste and smell of you. Even just thinking about the fact that it's your hips grinding over his face right now is enough to make him moan into your pussy.

You slur out praise, one of your hands shooting up to grip the headboard. His hands wander gently up your sides, eyes opening to stare up to where he plays with your tits, hard cock pulsing at the sight of your head thrown back, hips moving in gentle circles over his face. Haechan’s hand tugs yours down to his hair, trying to restrain himself from thrusting into the empty air at the feeling of you all over him. He hums happily into your pussy when you start to grind over his mouth, flattening his tongue for you to ride until your legs are shaking.

He lets out a deep “mmhmm” when you warn him that you’re going to cum, suckling hard on your clit until you’re practically begging him to let you go, body crumpling forward with both hands tangled in his hair. He's grateful you didn't touch his cock, just the thought of your fingers wrapped around him is enough to make him cum and he has other plans.

You can’t speak when you collapse onto the mattress beside him, immediately warmed by the weight of his body on top of yours as he slots himself between your thighs, sucking a hickey onto the front of your throat.

“Taste too fucking good,” he hums, mouthing over your chin and cheek “been dreaming of eating your sweet pussy for so long.” you practically swoon when he kisses you, pre-cum wetting the inside of your thigh when he relaxes his stomach onto yours.

“Hyuck, want you in me, please” Your vision is blurry, whining into his swollen lips. He works them over your cheek before pulling away from you, bringing one of your legs up to his shoulder and you rest the other knee on his hip. He can feel himself pant when he taps the head of his cock on your swollen clit, practically drooling when he sticks barely the tip inside before pulling back and repeating the tantalizing motion.

“Been waiting for too long to be teased,” you pout, trying to encourage his hips toward yours with the ankle he’s not pressing his cheek into. He smirks and circles his leaking tip over you again, watching his cock spread your arousal around before he pushes into you a little further.

“I’m taking my time with you, feels so fucking good.” He can’t look away from between your thighs, messy hair hanging over his forehead while his fingers grip your ankle tightly. You whimper when he pulls all the way out again, one more hard tap against your pulsing clit before he pushes himself halfway into your leaking pussy. You rise onto your elbows, trying to reach one hand to grab for his hip but he releases the base of his cock to stop you by lacing your fingers together. When Haechan finally looks into your eyes he bottoms out, stretching your leg toward your chest so he can lean in. His hips stutter, a choked groan rumbling deep in his chest.

“Oh my god, Hyuck please.” you beg him to move with a gasp. His forehead presses to your chin, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Fuck, baby, been needing you," he thrusts into you slowly, lifting his head to look down at you glowing beneath him with your eyes shut. He pulls out all the way before thrusting back inside, quickening his hips when your eyes flutter open, the look on your face enough to make his balls tighten slightly, shutting his eyes to regain self control "knew you'd feel so fucking good."

"M’so full, Haechan." you moan at his words and the rapid slap of his hips on the back of your thighs, forcing your eyes to stay open so you can see his face. The way his nose scrunches with focus when he pulls away from your chest, both his hands wrapping firmly around your hips while he watches his cock sink into you. Brown, shaggy hair sticks to his damp forehead, full lower lip taken between his teeth. He’s pure, unadulterated boyish beauty, and he’s all yours.

You squeak when he lets your leg drop off his shoulder, pressing your thigh as far open as it will go with your heel digging into his backside. He fans his fingers over your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to push your clit side to side and your hips tuck up for more pressure, Haechan moans loudly when the movement causes you to clamp around his cock, "Perfect fucking pussy, can't believe it's mine now. Like my fingers on your pretty clit?”

You nod enthusiastically, letting go of your breasts to hold the backs of your thighs, Haechan's eyes move up your body to stare at your chest move beneath him, nipples looking sweet as candy. He’s dying to sink his fingers into the softest part of your stomach, the way you’re moving for him makes his mind turn to sand. You stare down to where his thumb is making circles over your clit, perfectly timed with the head of his cock bruising your g-spot. You feel a second orgasm build and the corner of his mouth pulls up proudly when your legs shake. Your head hangs back as you gasp for air, "yes, please, Haechan feels so fucking good."

"Make the prettiest noises for me, want you cumming all over my cock." he leans forward just enough to trap your throat beneath the weight of his palms, other hand still moving over your swollen clit. You smile at the pressure of his body on yours, eyes fluttering shut while you moan. You nod desperately when he asks if you can do that, "if you can let me make you feel that good, please, my pretty girl."

He takes his hand off your throat when you cum, wanting to hear every sound you could possibly make. You repeat his name like a blessing that has him cumming with you, moaning and breathless as his hips start to slow, milking you both through your orgasms.

You wrap your arms around him when he pulls out of you, reveling in the feeling of him when he lowers himself down, burrowing his face into your neck and warming your skin with his breath. You hold him there for a minute until he pulls his head up, dopey smile lighting up his eyes and making you laugh.

“What?” you scrunch your nose at him “better than your dreams?”

He nods, “so much better, best I ever had, my body belongs to you now.” he smirks at his own words, but his tone is so gentle he can’t even call it a joke.

“Just your body?” you tease, and he leans his nose onto your lips for a kiss that you carry onto the mole under his eye.

“Body, mind, heart, soul,” he sighs happily when you cup his cheeks in your hands, kissing him gently “all the planets in my head.”

"All the planets in my head too."

————

masterlist

authors note // this ended up being much longer than i anticipated, maybe the longest one shot i’ve ever actually written! i appreciate everyone who voted for happy ending because when i was originally thinking of a sad ending it was too hard lol. this feels forever unfinished because there is so much good to this version of haechan, i adore him.

#haechan #haechan fanfiction #haechan smut #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream smut #nct 127 fanfiction #nct 127 smut #nct fanfiction #nct smut

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