#but no he just wants to argue with me about it saying it’s so expensive and i’m not gonna use it to generate money which 😒
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pairing: steve harrington x f!reader (both are early to mid 20's)
word count: 3.3k
summary: steve recently got a new camera for his birthday, and can only think about one thing he wants to film
warnings: SMUT 18+!, a lil fluffy, being filmed, i wasn't alive in the 80's so i might get stuff wrong, slight dom!steve, slight sub!reader, oral (f receiving - steve's a munch argue with the wall), this is literally just steve being a munch. not proofread
a note: my first ever fic for stranger things!
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
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“No, lemme see - I wanna see it!”
You pry the camera out of Steve’s hands, clutching it. You admire the camera, a Sony CCDTRV118 Hi8 Camcorder, careful not to smear any fingerprints across the lens. You giggle as he grumbles, trying to grab the camera back. “Your parents really shelled out this year, Stevie.”
Steve snatches the camera out of your hands, ignoring your protest, and puts the lens cap back on. “It was the only thing I asked for. It came with a deck to record tapes, too. They’ve been holding it over my head all week.”
Your eyes widen, knowing how expensive those can get. You’ve never had one yourself, just seeing them on the shelves of Sears before finally seeing one today up close and personal. “Damn. You're going to have a hell of a time repaying them.”
Steve shrugs. “Eh. I'll just record my baby cousin's christening next week and they'll drop it.”
You move to sit down on his bed, cross-legged, playing with the frills on the hem of your white socks. The window was open, a necessity for the hot summer you were caught in the midst of. The first cool breeze of the evening swept into Steve's room, carrying with it the scent of hot air and the oak trees planted around the Harrington property. The curtains, a soft blue muslin, floated gently in the breeze. “Did you only invite me over to show me your new camera?”
Steve grins, setting the camera down on his desk. “That...and I wanted to ask you something.”
You tilt your head in confusion, a soft smile on your face as you admire him. Freshly showered, hair still slightly damp, in a loose-fitting dark blue t-shirt and a black pair of jeans, no doubt from Eddie’s influence. “Yeah?”
Steve moves towards you and pushes on your shoulders, laying you down on your back. He crawls on top of you, pressing his hips into yours. “Yeah. I was thinking...how would you feel if we filmed a movie together? Hmm?” He brushes some hair out of your face.
You bite your lip, sliding your hands under his t-shirt, brushing your hands over his back. His skin is so warm and so soft, and you feel yourself melting. “What kinda movie?”
“Oh, the good kind.” He whispers before kissing you, his lips pressing firmly against yours as his tongue slides into your mouth, exploring and making you shiver. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you up against him.
You giggle, kissing him back. You get momentarily lost in the way he tastes and the feel of his lips before you pull away to speak, “Are you asking me to make a porno?”
“A home movie,” Steve corrects, a sly grin on his face. “Totally not the same thing, baby. It’s not a porno if it’ll only be seen by us.”
You giggle, moving one of your hands to his hair, running your fingers through it. “You wanna make me a pornstar?”
“You wouldn't be the star of the movie; I would be.” He pauses mid-kiss to grin at you. “Think of it more like…” He pauses again, searching for words. “Like, a...a feature film starring me and...and a really hot co-star.”
“And what’s in it for me?” You ask, playing along.
“I can think of a few things.” He grins. “A starring role in someone's wildest fantasy, for one. A spot in a home movie that'll be around forever for the people who make it...it could be a classic.”
“Hmm, right, right.” You say, kissing him on the lips again.
“Think of the bragging rights!” He laughs quietly against your lips. “It could be your claim to fame. Your legacy.”
“Ah, yes, my legacy,” You say. “The girl that got railed by Steve Harrington as he taped the whole thing.”
He leans back, pretending to be offended. “You know, now that you put it like that it doesn't sound so romantic.”
“Oh, it’s supposed to be romantic?” You chuckle.
“Are you telling me you don't think I'm a romantic guy?” His grin widens. “That's kind of hurtful. I thought I was being smooth.”
“Smooth like crunchy peanut butter.”
Steve groans in mock pain, pulling you to his chest as he rolls onto his side. You laugh, and he finds it adorable, holding you close as he sticks his tongue out and pretends to die from your insult.
After a few seconds, he looks at you. “I’m serious, ya know. I wanna make a lil movie with you. I wouldn’t share it anywhere, it would just be for us to watch.”
You smile softly, looking over at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I really do.” He moves some of your hair aside, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment. “It'll be...our own little thing. Something to keep to ourselves.”
You bite your lip. “Then let’s do it.”
"There's the enthusiasm I was looking for." He laughs breathlessly, leaning down to kiss your neck. His teeth rake against the skin, biting and sucking at the sensitive area as he moves his hands up your shirt. He moves his face up to kiss you, his kisses turn from slow and sweet to almost desperate, as if he was afraid he wouldn’t get another kiss again. His hand grips at your waist, and you shiver under his touch. "You are so beautiful. You know that, right? God, I'm so damn lucky."
You giggle, pulling his shirt over his head. “You’re one to talk.”
Steve chuckles, lifting his back so you can pull the shirt off and toss it on the floor next to the bed. "I get that a lot." His hands move to your lower back, toying with the hem of your shirt as he presses you to him. He kisses at your jaw, a mischievous smile on his face as his fingers dance along your skin, sliding up your back. He pauses speaking again, "You know what, let's keep it even." In one quick motion, he slides your shirt off your body, tossing it somewhere in his room. He stares at your bare chest for a moment, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Much better.”
He greedily slides his hands over your tits as you squirm, slowly getting more and more desperate. A thin veil of sweat covers your body, your least favourite thing about the summertime, but he doesn’t mind. Steve bites back a moan as he roughly squeezes your tits, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Your back arches deliciously and he grins, squeezing your nipples hard.
Steve's hands start wandering all along your body. They're warm against your bare skin, and his touch feels almost electric whenever he moves to touch something new. His fingers brush along your hip, tracing the waistband of your shorts while his breaths become heavier. He whispers your name, almost in a plea as he looks down at you, like the sight of you is the most beautiful thing in the world. "God, you drive me crazy, you know that?"
You blush. “Theres no need to butter me up, Steve. I’m already in your bed topless.”
He laughs breathlessly. "Can't help it. Every time I look at you I just wanna...worship you." His fingers hook under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down slowly. "You drive me goddamn crazy. I don't deserve someone as beautiful as you."
Your heart flutters. “You deserve the world, Stevie.”
It's his turn to blush now, a bright red blush spreading across his cheeks as he looks away. "God, you really don't know what you're doing to me, do you?" His thumb brushes over your hip bone, the cool metal of the ring on his right thumb contrasting with the heat of his skin. You and Steve have matching rings, yours sitting neatly on your left middle finger. "You're gonna be the death of me, baby.”
You grin mischievously. “Not doin’ anything.”
He laughs softly, shaking his head as he continues his work in removing your skirt. "Sure you aren't, brat." There's a fondness to his voice as he speaks, and you smile in return. Steve leans down to kiss your cheek before moving to your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. He plants soft kisses in every spot he can reach, admiring your body all the while. He reaches your lower stomach, kissing just above the hem of your underwear. His hands find your hips, and he glances up at you. "You're perfect.”
He slides his fingers under your underwear when you remember. “Wait, we’re supposed to be filming.” Your voice is breathy, clouded and suffocated by lust and desire.
His hands stop for a moment, eyes widening slightly as he realizes too late. "Right." Slowly, he pulls his head up, sitting to look at you. "Where did I put that…oh, for crying out loud - “ He leans across you to grab the camera off his desk, a light laugh in his voice like he can't believe he forgot. He attaches the camera to the deck, putting in a blank VHS tape. The red light on the camera blinks and Steve turns on the deck to capture the playback. ”I guess we're doing a re-take.”
The red light suddenly makes it all feel real. You shift on the bed as he props it up, shooting directly in between your legs. You feel yourself getting hot and your mouth dries. “Make sure to get my good side.”
A smile forms on his face as he adjusts the camera. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll get plenty of good angles. But that’s not for me to say, that’s for us to get all sorts of opinions on…” He takes a glance at your half naked body, pausing. “Damn.”
You suddenly feel shy, shifting on the bed. “What?”
“You’re literally perfect, and all mine,” he says, his words thick against the sound of the deck whirring. He starts unbuttoning his jeans, shimmying out of them before he lays back down on top of you. “This is all mine to worship, hm?” His thumb hooks into the thin hem of your underwear, tugging it down.
You nod, your legs opening even wider as he pulls your underwear off. Thank god you trimmed yourself up this morning. “All yours.”
"God, you're amazing." He gently squeezes your hip, smiling as he presses hot kisses onto your stomach, and gradually lower and lower. "Absolutely perfect. You're killing me, baby." The camera is recording it all, but Steve doesn't care about that. He gently pushes your legs apart to settle in between them, and he lets out a quiet groan at the sight.
You let out a soft whine, almost bucking your hips in his face. “Steve…”
"I know, baby," he purrs, his arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you still. "We'll get to it. Just let me appreciate this." You feel his breath against your skin, warm and sending an electricity through your body. He rubs his thumb over your entrance, gathering some of your wetness before spreading it all over, rubbing your clit in soft circles. Slowly, he presses a kiss against your sensitive heat, and he groans softly, his breath coming in quiet gasps through his nose.
You shiver, your hips bucking, another soft whine tumbling from your mouth.
You feel him smile against you, one of his hands sliding up your thigh, and he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. He chuckles, "Someone's getting impatient, hmm?"
You can only imagine the footage the camera is capturing.
He puts your legs on his shoulders, spreading your pussy out with his fingers. "Stay still for me," he coos, his breaths coming out heavy against your skin, "there we go..." He runs his tongue up your slit, relishing the whine that comes from you as your thighs try to squeeze around him. He holds you down gently but firmly, letting his eyes close as he savors the taste.
You try your hardest to stay still, gripping the bedsheets tight. His soft hair brushes against your thighs and it makes you shiver, goosebumps littering your body as he moves his tongue from side to side. He takes his time with you, his tongue slowly licking and circling to draw out the most noise from you that he can. He lets out a groan as you whine and mewl, and it's hard not to let his hips press into the bed. His fingers are hot against your thighs, his touch light at first, and then pressing hard enough to keep you from writhing in his grasp.
"Good girl." His teeth graze your skin, and it's enough to make you gasp. His kisses start getting more desperate, and he gives another long swipe across your heat before he decides to focus on your sensitive bundle of nerves. In an instant you feel his tongue against it, and his groan vibrates against you as he holds you steadily in place. “Is that good, baby?”
You nod, struggling to find your voice in the moans and pants.
“Words, baby.” Steve says, blowing air directly on your clit.
You whimper. “Feels so fucking good, Stevie.”
He hums in appreciation. "You're pretty enough to be a goddess. A muse," he murmurs against you, his tongue moving in slow circles now, "and you're all mine." His voice is breathless, his moans almost too much for the microphone to pick up, and he starts to move his tongue in faster circles, drawing mewls and whines from you. Between desperate whines, you could barely make out moans of his name in your haze, your hips trying and failing to jerk against him. "My pretty baby, all mine.”
You gasp and whine. “Fuck, all yours!”
He's relentless against you, almost too much and not enough all at once. His hands grip harder at your thighs, his tongue working in dizzying circles. His grunts and groans vibrate against you, and he glances up at you for a moment, the sight of you a beautiful mess. "So pretty, baby." He doesn't slow his motions, not giving you a chance to recover, and you can feel that he's getting hungry for you. You can hear the sounds of the camera capturing everything, the whirling and clicking as it records it all.
“You’re doing so good, baby. My good girl,” he coos, pausing to gasp between the praise. He switches to small, short strokes as he moans against you, his tongue hitting your sensitive bundle perfectly each time. Every noise he makes seems to excite you, pushing you closer and closer to your edge.
Your hips buck against his face, your clit bumping against his nose.
“That’s it, baby.” Steve’s voice is low and thick with a mix of desire and lust. His tongue flicks against you, bringing out whines with each stroke. His grip on your thighs is tight but careful, his nails pressing into your skin just a little too hard to be unintentional. It’s obvious that he loves this, the taste of you and the sound of your moans are his favourite, and he would never get enough of it. It's the thing that drives him crazy, the thing that makes his mind blank and his body run hot.
Your moans get louder, your head leaning back into the pillow. Steve groans against you, his tongue moving in short, fast circles as he presses his hips into the bed to try and get some friction. His breathing becomes more erratic with each moan from you, and the sounds of licking and panting get louder within the room. His hands grip your hips, his mouth growing hungry as he picks up the pace. “God, the sounds you make…”
You let out a shaky gasp, your thighs clenching around his head.
He moans loudly in response, his mouth moving with fervor as he feels your thighs clench around him. The sounds of the wet, needy movements only grow louder as his tongue hits every sensitive nerve of your clit as it slides against you. “God, baby. I love you. I love you so much.” Steve's groan is breathless as he presses closer, his tongue moving in sloppy, desperate circles now. He wants more.
You squirm and shake when he slides a finger into your cunt, sliding his thumb up and down your slit. His body presses further into the bed as his fingers slide into you without warning. You moan as your back arches off the bed, your whine going up an octave and your body trembling as he works his fingers in time with his tongue. “My beautiful girl. All mine.”
You pant, your hips bucking into his face.
His free hand grips your hip to keep you from writhing away as he works you up as fast as he can. He slides another finger into your cunt, chuckling at the way you shake. “Can’t help myself, baby. So pretty, so sweet. I could do this forever if you’d let me.”
You reach down and run your fingers through his hair. “Cl-close, Stevie!” Your whole body feels hot, legs shaking every single time he sucks on your clit.
“I know, I know,” he coos, replacing his tongue with his thumb. “But you need permission.” You whine loudly in response, trying to press your clit into his thumb even harder. He moves his thumb in small, tight circles against you. “I wanna hear you ask for it, baby. Ask me like a good girl.”
His fingers move in and out of you, curling with each movement to draw out more whines and whimpers. “You want that, baby?” You nod desperately in response, your back arching slightly. His voice sounds like his mind was being reduced to nothing but you, only you. “Then beg for it. Ask nicely. Beg.”
The words tumble out of your mouth. “Please! Please Stevie! Please let me cum, I’ve been a good girl!” You sound so desperate and Steve laps it up.
Steve lets out a groan as his breath catches in his throat, his body pressing into the bed at your words. He lets out a low laugh. “So pretty…good girl.” He shifts your hips slightly, angling you towards the camera. His fingers speed up once more inside of you. “That’s it baby, cum for me. You’ve been so good, it’s okay. Cum for me. Let the camera see you cum…”
You cum hard, your hips lifting off of the bed. Your moans fill the air alongside the clicks and the whirring of the camera. He works you through it, his fingers and thumb drawing out every possible second of your high as you squirm. He groans as he sees a stream of wetness dribble out of you, forming a puddle under your thighs. He takes one last swipe with his tongue, sucking at your sensitive nerves one last time before lifting himself up to look at you. You already look wrecked, just how Steve likes you. “You okay, baby?”
After a few seconds you nod, your head feeling floaty.
He chuckles as he watches the rise and fall of your chest slow down. He gives a final kiss to your clit before crawling up to you, leaning down to kiss you. “God, you’re amazing.” As soon as his lips touch yours, you taste yourself on his tongue, and he chuckles as you recoil slightly. “Come here.” Steve pulls you close to his chest, his kisses becoming less frenzied and more soft and sweet.
After a few seconds he pulls away, looking back at the camera. “Do you wanna keep going?” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. Steve grins, pushing you onto your back once again. “Good. You’re such a good girl, all nice and ready for my cock.”
You let out another moan as he pulls his underwear down, making sure to look right into the lens as your home video continues.
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i hope you all enjoyed! :> requests are open!
#keikiwrites#f!reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#steve harrington smut#stranger things smut#steve harrington fluff
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Guilty as Sin ⚡︎ Max Verstappen
A/N: Hi! Back again with another one, this time it’s Max and guilty as sin! This is a little longer than the rest and it has a little crossover with the NFL, I hope you enjoy it!
Warnings: Arguing, a little smut. Joe being a jerk (no hate to Joe, he’s one of my faves but I needed a not so good boyfriend for this blurb)
Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?
Sitting cross-legged on the outdoor couch with your computer on the table you looked out at the Miami skyline with a smile. You and your boyfriend Joe had rented an apartment for the next week, Formula One was in town and you were trying to score some last-minute tickets. F1 Experiences had sent you a promotion email, the prices looked good and there were still tickets left, the offer was tempting and you were considering splurging on it. Thankfully, your job allowed you to pay for expenses such as these. You were about to buy the tickets when you received a message on Instagram. Upon opening it, you gasped and jumped off the couch screaming for Joe.
Joe ran out onto the balcony, looking bewildered, “Joe, Joe, Joe, oh my god, oh my god!” You shouted while slapping his chest. “Baby, are you okay?” he asked, concern flashing in his eyes. Unable to talk you showed him your screen, “Baby, this is huge! You better say yes!” he said hugging your waist. Grinning you typed a reply, “We’re going to the Miami Grand Prix!” You shouted and Joe whooped.
Panic set in and you started to pace around the living room, “I have nothing good to wear to a paddock club, this is going to be the end of me!” you exclaimed, “Baby, baby, hey, look at me” Joe said grabbing your shoulders to steady you. “We’re a short walk from the Brickell City Center let’s get changed and we’ll find something for you to wear,” he said. Smiling you kissed his cheek and ran out to get your laptop and into the bedroom, hastily grabbing some clothes and heading towards the bathroom.
Joe was laughing behind you and you heard him shuffle around the room. Things between you two had been rocky lately, he hadn’t had the best season with his calf injury and the wrist injury which forced him to sit out the remainder of the season. But things between you had shifted before all this, you had done your best to push the possibility that your relationship with Joe might be close to running its course. Dating him since the LSU days hadn’t been easy all the time, but you made it work throughout college, your internship in New York during his first-ever season in the NFL with the Bengals. Your careers had tested your relationship but you pulled through, and you were up to a few weeks convinced he was the man you wanted to marry. However, lately, this was not looking as clear as it had, Joe was distant with you most days.
Quality time between you was dwindling, you weren’t going out for dinner like you used to and had stopped doing many things together but you pushed the thoughts away for this week. Just one perfect week with Joe in Miami, and everything will be back on track. Your apartment was a short walk from the Brickell City Center mall so you made haste and got there in no time. A few hours later you walked out hand in hand with Joe who carried your bags full of outfits. You had insisted on paying for your own, but he refused and paid, which was why you had decided to buy him an outfit and some sunglasses you knew he had been on the hunt for.
With the bags on the bed, you started to plan your outfits and left them in the closet, Red Bull Racing had been in contact with you and your passes for the week would arrive tomorrow. They were nice enough to give you both access to media day and would send you a media pass with your journalist credentials. You figured you’d make the most out of the opportunity and take notes to report on the race week.
Excitement poured out of you and Joe took note of it, his stomach sank when he realized he hadn’t seen you like this in a while. Dawning on him, he started to see where he might’ve been faulty as of late and made a mental note to make this week the best and hopefully get back on track with you. Unbeknownst to Joe, he hadn’t stretched far back enough to realize he had been pulling away for months. You were sitting in the back of the car that was taking you both to the circuit.
Joe was scrolling on his phone and had barely paid attention to you, for most of the car ride, your driver followed the signs for the entrances assigned to the paddock club members and soon enough he had parked. “Joe we’re here!” you exclaimed and he snapped out of his daze to smile at you, he tipped the driver and informed him that he would call two hours in advance before leaving. With a smile, you thanked the driver and took Joe’s hand. “Hey Joey, do you think it would be weird if I ask Lewis for a picture with Red Bull passes on? You asked. “Don’t think so” he replied dryly. “Is everything okay?” you asked softly. “Yeah, why?” he asked. “Nothing, you were just a little dry, never mind,” you said quickly. Putting an arm around you, you walked and followed the signs for the paddock entrance and security greeted you.
There was a lane to get to the paddock so you walked through it and the entrance looked a thousand times bigger in your eyes due to your excitement. Scanning your passes you grinned as you stepped into the paddock. Joe reached for your hand and you walked past the photographers. A smile was plastered on your face and it got wider when you stepped into the football, More photographers called out to you upon seeing you two enter. The official f1 cameras were filming your entrance and you did a little wave, while Joe smiled.
The cameras left you alone and you spotted the Red Bull hospitality, you pointed it out to Joe and walked towards it. Some members of the team’s staff were outside and they greeted you, the social media admin who had contacted you, introduced herself and welcomed you inside. “Max and Checo should come by soon, help yourself to any drinks if you want,” she said. Smiling and thanking her, you turned to Joe. “I never thought I’d see the inside of the paddock, much less meet Max,” you said. “Cool, hey some of the guys are here,” he said not acknowledging what you had said. Getting slightly angry, you steeled yourself by counting backward from five. “Okay, can it wait until after?” you asked trying to hide as much of your annoyance as possible.
Was this man serious right now?
Figures approached you and you noticed it was Max and Checo, poking Joe his attention turned to the approaching drivers. “Hey, nice to see you guys!” Checo said. Joe extended his hand and shook Checo’s you did the same but greeted him in Spanish. Max was greeting Joe and he turned to you, “You must be y/n, it’s great you finally meet you. I’ve read your articles and they’re great!” Max said politely. “The pleasure is mine trust me, it’s great to know you liked them,” you replied politely. “Please you write the most competent pieces I’ve read, they should hire you in F1 already, you’d ask non-bullshit questions in the press conferences and interviews,” he said candidly and you laughed.
“She’s trying not to fangirl so hard but she goes insane on race weekends, she’s also raving about you,” Joe said and you blushed. “He’s exaggerating, don’t pay him much attention” you added and Joe laughed. Max smiled, “Seems like we’re all fans of each other,” he said to you both. You complimented Checo’s helmet and expressed your support while Max and Joe chatted and the admins took pictures of them. When you were done talking the admins wanted pictures with the four of you and you with Max while Joe took some with Checo.
Part of going out with Joe to sporting events included this, but you didn’t mind it as a sports journalist because this was pretty much what happened to you, when you attended events for work. “Some of the fins guys are here, I’m going to meet with them for a bit,” Joe said. “Okay, just don’t leave me alone all day please” you whispered. Without replying he left and you were alone with Max since Checo had media duties to fulfill.
Max had been done with his, and he decided to chat with you while showing you the paddock. Joe still wasn’t back and it was starting to bug you, “Do you have any projects lined up?” Max asked. “NFL-related not really, but I’m covering a little bit of hockey and the formulas,” you said with a smile. “Starting with us?” Max asked with a grin, “Yeah, and F1 academy, I have been writing a separate space on my blog for it and I’m excited to see the girls race!” You enthusiastically said. “I’ll get you a pass to the garages next door,” Max offered. “Oh that would be so great, thank you,” you said gratefully. “Do you need one for Joe?” he asked. “No, he seems to be busy at the moment” you replied in a serious tone.
“Ah I see, it’s a little rocky?” he asked. “You could say that, is it that noticeable?” you asked. “Not really, it is to me because I’ve been there before,” he replied before changing the topic which you were grateful for. Max had cracked a few jokes and your cheeks were red from the sun and from laughing, as he promised he would, a pass was handed to you and you thanked him. Slipping the purple lanyard on you exited the F1 paddock and made your way to the F1 garages, making sure your journalist credentials were visible.
The reigning world champion couldn't help but look at your retreating figure, desperately he’d wanted to ask for your number but the more rational side of him was holding him back. She is off-limits, even for me. He could tell your relationship seemed rocky but he would settle for just friends, of course, that all depended on you being open to it. But you were so beautiful, and it pissed him off that your boyfriend was nowhere near you. If I was him, I would be worshipping the ground you walked on.
Charles Leclerc approached him outside of the hospitality before doing the little drill the Miami Dolphins had prepared for them. Noticing his sudden halt in conversation he followed Max’s gaze to see it trained on you and smiled knowingly. “Ah, she’s Burrow’s girlfriend right?” he asked and Max nodded, his speech coming back to him slowly. “Y-yeah, they’re Red Bull’s guests” he replied and Charles smiled. “You like her,” he whispered. “She has a boyfriend,” Max replied quickly. “Yet you didn’t deny it,” he said before patting his shoulder and leaving.
Spotting Braxton you greeted him, smiling he beckoned you over and you greeted his teammates. “Tell me have you seen my boyfriend around? He left me stranded” you whispered. Braxton looked at you apologetically, “He was with us in the paddock club, I think he’s still there” he said. “Okay, thanks Braxton,” you said and didn’t move. Max went over to you and introduced you to the other drivers.
Heading back to the Red Bull hospitality you stood on the balcony and watched the drivers go through the drill, it was funny to see them a little out of their element. Joe had miraculously deigned to appear and he put his arm around you, you leaned into his touch and talked in hush tones, still, you couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach.
Days had passed after the Grand Prix and you guys were at Joe’s beach house in California, things hadn’t changed and you were feeling like it was time to call it quits. To distract yourself you had gone out to surf and had just come back, sitting on the porch with your feet on the railing you closed your eyes and listened to the ocean breeze. Joe was calling out to you and hadn’t heard him until now. “What?” you called back walking into the house. “Did you go to the beach and didn’t tell me?” he asked irritated. “Joe I told you I was going out for a surf, you didn’t reply because you were busy doing god knows what and I left” you replied crossing your arms. “Well, do you want to go back?” he asked. “No Joe, I’m tired,” you said flatly. “Whatever, I’m going out for a run,” he said with a sigh and turned around. The door slamming shut made you jump and you noticed a package addressed to you. Grabbing it you went upstairs and tossed it on your bed, before showering.
Sitting down you opened it and noticed it was a RedBull PR package with a note addressed to you from Max. With a smile you read the note and opened the box, taking a picture of it you posted it on social media and tagged Max and the team, thanking them. Feeling tired you set the box aside and decided to take a nap. Waking up in cold sweat you let out a sigh and ran your hands through your hair. You were feeling guilty for your dream, why am I dreaming of someone else and not Joe?
Shaking your head you decided to splash cold water on your face, and once again the image flashed in your brain. Max’s eyes were raking your body at an agonizingly slow pace, his hands were firm as they held you by the waist before he leaned in to give you the most teasing of kisses that left you wanting more. This is bad, stop thinking about him. Why hadn’t Joe touched me like this in months? Am I a bad girlfriend for thinking this? There’s no such as bad thoughts, only your actions talk
Joe had come back from his run and you had decided you needed to talk, “We need to talk” you said sternly. “About what?” Joe asked, “Us,” you said swallowing the lump in your throat. “I need you to be fucking honest Joe, no bullshit. Do you not want to be with me anymore?” you asked. Joe looked at you surprised, “Baby, why are you asking this shit?” he asked. “Answer the question please,” you said as your voice cracked a little and you cursed yourself. “I- y-yes,” he replied but he was hesitant and that told you all you needed to know. “Tell me, when was the last time we felt like a couple and not to people drifting away?” you responded. “Last week, we went out,” he said not answering the question.
“That was the Miami Grand Prix, and you left me alone the entire week Joe! Do you know what that felt like? It felt fucking awful” you said fighting back a sob. “It was just a slip-up, baby. We’ll get back on track. I promise” he said while reaching for you and his gaze hardened a little, your heart felt like it was being ripped out of your chest. “Joe, have you even realized that we’ve been pulling apart for months?” “I don’t think it’s been months, you’re being dramatic!” he said raising his voice a little. Scoffing you turned around and headed up the stairs, blinking tears away. Joe was behind you and followed you into the bedroom, you were blindly throwing things in your suitcases. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked. “Packing,” you replied dryly. “We can work this out, we can go to couples therapy, I can be better. Don’t fucking do this” he pleaded. “Joe I’m tired! I’m tired of feeling like a fly on the wall, you haven’t treated me like your girlfriend in months and I thought that you needed space after recovering and I gave you space but you just feel a million miles apart and I can’t do this!” You exclaimed as you looked at him with tears spilling out of your eyes. His eyes landed on the box, “Is it because of him?” he asked.
You scoffed, “No it’s because of you, I’m done Joe,” you said tossing the box in your last suitcase and zipping it up. Grabbing them you refused his help and went downstairs. “You know what sucks most, I thought you were the man I wanted to marry one day,” you said and his head dropped. “For what it’s worth, I had the best years of my life with and I will always wish you well,” you said softly. “Please, I’ll retrace my steps, and make it up to you” he pleaded. “Retrace them but we’re done Joe,” you said as you looked at him one last time. “Can we at least be friends?” he begged. You shook your head, “It would hurt us too much, goodbye Joe” you said as you opened the door. You had called no cab but you took your luggage to the end of the sidewalk and called for one.
Hanging up you couldn’t help but break into a sob, when the cab got there you asked to go to the airport and booked a ticket to the first flight out to France. This was how you had ended up in Nice hours later. Joe hadn’t made an effort to call you and that made you feel worse. Your relationship had run its course and you wanted to forget everything and just erase years worth of memories and feelings. Little did you know that something as silly as an Instagram story of your hotel room views would catch Max’s attention.
Messaging Max you told him you were in Nice and he asked if you had any plans, to which you replied you didn’t. You considered him your friend and decided to accept his proposition to meet him in Monaco. Looking like less of a mess, you put one of your favorite dresses on and got ready, taking the train you met him out of the station. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Nothing!” You exclaimed and faked a smile, he didn’t buy it. “You called it quits with Joe?” he asked. Not bothering to deny you nodded, “Come with me to the races, I’ll get you a pass. As your friend, I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said. “Max, I can’t,” you said. “Why?” he asked. “Because-” you said stopping in your tracks. “I have no place to stay, I packed all my life into suitcases what do I do with that? I can’t just jet-set and leave!” you said. “Stay with me then,” he said as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Noticing your hesitation he turned to you, “Please, I have a spare room. No one lives with me, I can help you get your things and when you don’t feel like coming with me you can stay. Just until you sort everything out” he said. Giving in you nodded.
Determined to help lift your spirits Max took you out to eat and for a walk around the principality. Afterwards, he drove to Nice and helped get your things and settle into his apartment. Weeks had passed and you had taken Max up on the offer to attend races with him as his friend. Certain gossip accounts had gotten wind of your split with Joe and your presence in the races alongside the Dutchman.
People had started to speculate but you ignored them, your friendship with Max had evolved and feelings had been developing but you never acted on them. You liked Max, and you were certain that he felt the same way. Tonight was your last night in Singapore, your hotel room was dark and you couldn’t sleep. Reaching for your phone you looked at the clock, it was 2:25 am. Sighing you sat up and headed towards the bathroom to splash water on your face. Debating knocking on Max’s door you pondered the option for a few minutes. Hesitant steps carried you next door, knocking once the door immediately swung up, revealing a shirtless Max. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice showing no hint of sleep. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious, “I can’t sleep,” you said, “Me neither” he replied. Leading you in he closed the door behind him and locked it.
Taking a seat on his bed, you fiddled with the hem of your oversized shirt, Max looked at you before taking a seat next to you, and motioning you to move closer to him. Both of you sat facing each other. Oh how badly he wanted to admit you had been plaguing his dreams, he didn’t mind it but he just wished they were no longer dreams. Forcing the thoughts away he talked to you in a soft voice, minutes had passed and he couldn’t help but look at your lips. You noticed and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“Fuck it,” his voice was hoarse and he reached out to you, kissing you as if his life depended on it. Your hands felt around in the darkness and found their way to his neck, you kissed him back and you pulled away breathless. His blue orbs were taking you in, a chill ran up your spine, this was starting to look like a familiar scene. Max initiated the second kiss and it was much rougher than the first, his hands were holding tightly onto your waist and you shifted to sit on his lap, you bit his lip and he groaned. Pulling apart his eyes slowly raked your body, his fingers slipped under your shirt and his touch sent shivers up your body.
“Max, Max” you said pulling apart and panting, he called out your name, and god, it felt so fucking right. “Don’t stop” you said in a low voice, he chuckled, “Only if you ask me to, Schat”. What if it feels like a vow, we’ll both uphold somehow? His kisses `never faltered, he was holding you ever so delicately, your back met his pillows, and your shirt was discarded on the floor. Heat rushed to your cheeks as his eyes raked over you, his hands hadn’t left your waist, reaching up you pulled him by the neck and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Breaking away he started kissing your neck as his hands roamed your body, you sighed and he smiled while leaving wet kisses down your chest. You could tell he was testing the waters and you simply wanted him to dive in, “M-Max” you said. “I’m taking my time Schatz,” he said and you mentally cursed him. Bringing him up you kissed him and couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips when his hand found your thigh.
Max groaned, he had heard you once already and he was counting on hearing you again. Clothing was on the floor, his hand spread your legs apart and he looked at you, “Schatz” he breathed out. “Yes,” you replied, with a soft pant. That was all the reassurance he needed. It had been so long since you had felt like this and you welcomed every feeling, without holding back. Everything built up like waves and came crashing down. “What if he’s written mine on my upper thigh?”
(all photo credits go to the respective owners)
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Birthday keroppi time B)
#screams#my birthday is next Friday holy shit I'm gonna be 25#can't believe its that time of year again#and not me blanking about what I want to get and do for my birthday#wtf could I ask for that I can't get or go do myself#anything I would want is out of the question because of expense (like a new pc. I still haven't gotten one)#I guess I could ask for pokemon legends arceus. I've been meaning to buy it but haven't been able to justify spending $60#on a game I might take my seeet ass time playing thru cause I hate using my switch lite (the screen is so fucking small its annoying)#but its an idea at least#as for what I want to do? man idk#we'll probably go to olive garden like most years which Im cool with#although nowadays my datemate and I go there often for dates (we were just there yesterday for instance)#but I love olive garden so I won't say no to going#maybe to that historical township thats a half hour drive away?#datemate and I were supposed to go today as part of my vacation#but he talked me out of it (like he does with most big trip plans I make 😒)#the reason he did so it because its hot as balls today and sunny with a hogh uv index#we'd be outside for most of the trip and her reckons being in the heat will make him miserable and a killjoy#because he's heat sensitive. I am too so I can't really argue with him on that#so maybe it'll be cooler on the 15th so we can go#if not I don't really mind waiting til October because that township is better in the fall#but anyways those are the ideas I have rn#I'll probably ask for a pokemon plushie as a gift#I'd kill to get a new stufful plushie but those are rare and expensive thanks to scalpers#I'd be down to get another Vaporeon like my datemate bought me last year. or another of my favorites#Im not gonna be too picky this year even tho its a big birthday (my brain is fully developed)#because a lot of my birthdays turn out to be shit. last year was really nice tho#but I don't want to get my hopes up for anything and then be depressed that day like what often happens#so I will just be grateful to get some good tasting cake. that's literally the bare minimum of what I want without question#sam's rants about life
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WAS IT REAL? - LN
lando is at risk of losing his job if he doesn't clean up his image, and his best friend needs a way of travelling the world. they come up with a flawless plan - which could not possibly go wrong, right?
based on this request! (i went a little overboard im sorry) ✧ my inbox is open! ✧
warnings - fluff, angst, small allusion to smut at the end - fake dating to lovers hehe. also, 5k words??? who am i?? (writen BEFORE the miami gp!! i needed a few days to recover lol)
the song inspo for this got removed from spotify but it is based on "was it real" by ben rodrigues <3
masterlist the playlist
✧ tell me was it real...
...or was it just pretend? ✧
“and now i’ve had zak sit me down and essentially said ‘we don’t hire slags’”
“he said that your recent behaviour was causing concern for mclarens image - not that you were a slag, lan.”
“same thing,” he argued, ”i’m 24 for gods sake, if i want to speak to women in a nightclub that shouldn’t be any of zak’s business.”
“i think it became his business when someone filmed you, in your mclaren, having what im sure was a lovely conversation with the girl sat on your lap,” she teased back, emphasising her words slightly. he huffed at, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back into her sofa.
lando had walked into her flat 20 minutes prior, as he had hundreds of times before, threw himself down on her sofa and launched into a long rant about the meeting he had just come from.
since he was at the woking offices, zak had taken the opportunity to discuss the several occasions in recent weeks where lando had been caught in predicaments with multiple different women. when he finally left, zak’s ultimatum ran through his brain on a loop as he drove to one of his closest friends houses.
“clean your image up, or we’ll have to reconsider the possibility of you having a seat next year.”
“it sucks, lan, but i really don’t know how i can help you here,” y/n told him, moving a stack of research notes to the table before sitting cross legged next to him so that her body faced his.
y/n l/n was a newly graduated environmental researcher, who was taking a year out to decide what kind of work she wanted to pursue. she needed to travel, see the world, and experience all elements in her field before she could make that decision - but travelling was expensive and she could not afford to be in anymore debt after university.
“i have an idea,” lando announced, the realisation of what he was about to propose never really settling.
“that’s never good,” she joked.
“no, no hear me out -” he started, “i need to look like a man in a stable relationship, you need to see the world.”
“yeah? so?” she questioned, confused as to where he was going with this.
“look, it’s ok if you say no. i’m just saying - you could pretend to be my girlfriend and use the opportunity to travel the world and research your little bugs.”
“i don’t know, that seems a bit…deceitful?” y/n replied, yet the idea mulled in her brain more than she wished.
“just a few public appearances. you come with me to my races and use it as a research opportunity. maybe stay in monaco with me for a bit? let people film us being domestic and that?” lando replied, stuttering as he tried to think of more reasons - truly, he had started talking before he’d really thought it through.
“it’s tempting,” she replied slowly, “and for the last time lando, i do not study bugs, i study the environments they live in.”
“all expenses paid, travelling the world, looking at trees across the world,” he added teasingly, “- and all you have to do is hold my hand in public,” he finished, trying to summarise the arrangement.
“ok.”
“ok?”
“yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”
✧ tell me all the places that you wanna see...
....i can take you all the places that you've never been ✧
the two of them fell easily into a natural act, almost gaining a sixth sense for cameras and fans and reaching for each other. it started small - a hand on her back, standing close to each other, being seen arriving and leaving together. but it hadn’t been enough, many pointing out that y/n had been at races and stayed with him in monaco multiple times, and concluding the two were still, just friends.
so they upped the ante. lando began holding her hand when they walked anywhere together, kissing her forehead lightly as they both pretended to be clueless to the snapping of cameras. at the last race, y/n had spotted a reporter and made a quick decision to tug at lando’s fireproof, pulling him down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“that’s new,” he had told her, laughing lightly, but keeping his hands firmly on her waist.
“camera,” she told him, smiling up at him as he nodded.
and lando kept up his end of the deal, the two of them using the week of the australian grand prix to visit the great barrier reef.
their plan was working - the two were elated that people were finally putting the pieces together and believing the two really were together. even zak began to notice the positive effect y/n had on not only his image, but lando’s entire life.
“say y/n,” zak started as he walked up to the woman, “you work in environmental protection, don’t you?”
“i guess you could say that,” she responded, too tired to correct him, and slightly startled that he’d approached her as she sat minding her own business in the garage before the race began.
“we’re doing some work with the barrier reef group and oscar in a few days - would you consider being a sort of environmental advisor? just tell oscar a few things that he could talk about for the project?” he asked her assertively, smiling as her eyes widened at the request.
“i’d love to! but im supposed to be flying back tomorrow. let me ask lando later and ill get back to you?” she replied.
“sure,” he replied, smiling at her again before returning to his job. she was filled with excitement, it wasn’t often that she got to talk about her degree, and being able to contribute to a project of this scale was an amazing opportunity.
and her excitement only continued throughout the race, a feeling she always got watching lando compete, but overwhelmed when he cross the line 3rd. y/n ran round to join the rest of the mclaren team at the pit lane, watching as the podium cars pulled in and the drivers hopping out to celebrate with their teams.
lando climbed out, removing his helmet quickly before turning, scanning the crowd for y/n, and half sprinting when he spotted her. later, he would celebrate with his team, but for now he ran to her, pulling her in closely as he pressed his lips hastily to hers, pulled in closer by her hands cupping his jaw. when they pulled away, he kept her close to his embrace.
“im so proud of you,” she told him, smiling as he bent down to kiss her again, before rushing off to join his team.
y/n tried so hard to push away the feeling rising in her stomach - she didn’t like him like that, it was just the excitement of watching her friend succeed. so she ignored it, the same way she pushed away the feeling she got every time he calls her angel, even when they were alone.
im only here so that he keeps his job she reminded herself.
lando was distracted - he got podium, he was excited, his team were celebrating. yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger to that feeling that shot through his veins when he’d kissed her. the same feeling he got every night, when she wrapped an arm tightly around his chest as they fell asleep.
she’s only here for research opportunities he told himself.
“im so proud of you,” y/n told him later that day as they left the track. wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in to a tight hug, his arms falling naturally to hold her waist close to him. lando risked everything in that moment, pulling slightly back to look at her, before pressing a kiss to her lips.
“camera,” he told her, feeling her hesitation. her smile fell slightly before she leaned up to kiss him again. of course - the cameras, that’s why he kissed me she thought to herself, saddened slightly at the realisation.
there was no camera. they were totally alone.
✧ colours of the sky in your eyes
...fragments of the truth in your lies ✧
lando felt alone, his apartment felt so empty without her. he was happy she had the opportunity to stay in australia and do what she loves, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the flames igniting inside of him when he saw the videos of her and oscar together. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, he just missed her. after spending the last few months in close proximity, it made sense that he missed smelling her perfume around, or hearing the way her voice travelled through his brain.
y/n had a calming effect on him, and right now, lando was anything but calm.
which is why he found himself going back to his old ways, in a club, surrounded by women he wouldn’t remember the next day. he was too gone to remember that people with cameras tend to follow him around, capturing his every move in 4k - and he was far too gone to realise that publicly he was in a relationship, a relationship that should not include him leaving a club with a blonde.
and of course, y/n had seen the images blasted over twitter, headlines titled “cheating scandal?” consuming her entire feed. it was hard to remind herself that this thing between her and lando was not real, it was all pretend. and no matter how many times she told herself that fact, y/n couldn’t help but feel jealousy consume her entire existence.
the flat had never felt so awkward than the week before their flight to japan for the next race. she had returned a few days after the incident, lando greeting her at the door with a tight hug and a kiss to her forehead, but something was off.
“you have fun?” he asked her offhandedly as they moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water for himself.
“i did,” she said with a smile, though her tone held malice, “did you?”
lando’s hands stopped opening the cap of the bottle as he breathed in sharply.
“the fuck does that mean?” he replied, his tone harsh in defence.
“i was just asking if you had a good time, lando,” y/n answered, “she looked pretty, your type.”
“nothing happened, y/n,” lando told her, his voice sounding almost guilty.
“it’s ok if something did happen - we aren’t actually together,” she assured him, even though she could feel the jealousy bubbling up inside her again, “can you just be more cautious next time? im not sure i enjoy being told i deserved to be cheated on every time i open twitter.”
“im sorry, y/n, i am. i dont know what i was thinking,” he apologised, his eyes still softening with his guilt.
“clearly not a lot,” she tutted, before moving to take her bags to her room.
the rest of the week followed a similar vibe - the two of them barely spoke if they didn’t have to, making a few affectionate public appearances to show the world that their relationship was as strong as ever… oh the irony y/n thought every time she saw something dismissing earlier lando’s actions. however, by the time they flew out to japan, the friendship between the two seemed to have recovered - lando had almost sighed in relief when he saw her smile at him again.
“where you off to today?” lando asked her, pacing around the hotel room as he packed his bag for the day.
“the marina,” she replied, smiling as she pulled her coat on, “looking at the fish.”
“gross.”
“what time is qualis?” y/n asked him, ignoring his statement.
“uhh…3 i think - but you should try and get there by 2?” he told her, glancing down at his phone to see the current time. lando strode over to her, cupping her face lightly as he pressed a quick kiss to her head - this was becoming second nature to him, and she wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“perfect!” she replied, trying to stop the nervous blush rising her face, ignoring the way her stomach flipped, “ill be there,” she added before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and leaving the room. the moment the door closed, lando’s hand raised to touch where she had kissed him, smiling fondly at the thought.
he was utterly and truly fucked. how had he let himself fall for her? how could he continue to pretend to love her, when he really did?
y/n spent the rest of the morning in a similar state of panic, mentally shutting down at the prospect of loving lando and knowing he’d never feel the same. she hadn’t even intended to leave him today, but found herself quickly googling anything for her to do the moment she woke up with his arm wrapped tightly around her stomach and his head resting on her back. y/n needed space, she knew she couldn’t keep up their little act when her heart was slowly shattering every time he kissed her for the cameras.
so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realise the time until it hit 2pm and she was stuck at the marina, desperately trying to find a taxi to get her to the track. and when she finally made it, y/n wish she hadn’t bothered.
lando was pacing angrily, talking under his breath as he checked his phone constantly - he only had 5 minutes before he needed to go down to the garage and get ready for qualifiers. the door slid open, and y/n walked through - ready to spurt out her apologies - but she stopped suddenly, sensing the anger looming in his room.
“where were you?” lando asked her, trying to keep himself calm, though the race nerves mixed with his temperament made that quite difficult.
“im sorry lan, i lost trac-”
“lost track of time? found something more interesting to do? save it, i don’t wanna hear your excuses,” he argued back, interrupting her with his ever loudening tone.
“you’d know all about ‘finding something more interesting’, wouldn’t you,” y/n replied, her own voice raising to meet his. if there’s one thing y/n will do, it’s stand up for herself, even when all she wanted to do was kiss him. dont kiss him, hit him she told herself.
“fuck you,” he spat, shoving past her to leave the room.
“at least im here!” she shouted back down the hallway, desperate for the last word
y/n stayed in the room for qualifiers, trying to stop the tears running down her face before lando returned. she hoped his anger was only heightened by his nerves, praying that after securing P3 he would return as his normal self, laughing and joking with her. in a strange way, she wanted cameras on them, she wanted him to be affectionate with her - she needed him to comfort her.
the woman walked nervously down to the garage, hoping to catch him quickly before he had to run off for media duties. maybe now he had secured a solid start position for tomorrows race he would be more willing to have a mature, sensible conversation with her.
or not.
lando spotted her immediately, pulling her arm quickly to lead her round to a secluded area outside the garage. he wasn’t angry at her, he was angry at himself for letting it get this far. he was so irritated, he couldn’t even spare a moment to see the fear in her eyes as he took in a deep breath.
he wasn’t angry at her, but he didn’t know how else to express his overwhelming emotions.
“what do you want? make it quick, ive got media to do,” he snapped, letting go of her arm as they stopped walking. she rubbed at it, her skin still burning from his tight grip.
“i just wanted to see you lan, congratulate you,” she replied softly, biting back tears once more.
“oh now you want to be here to support me?” he breathed out, crossing his arms over his chest.
“what does that mean?”
“i let you come with me to help with your career, and yet you can’t even turn up to support mine. i knew you were selfish but thi-”
“selfish?” she argued, trying to keep her voice low, “me? selfish? i haven’t got enough fingers to count the amount of times you’ve missed my important things because you were busy with your career. and have i complained once?”
“well no but-”
“but nothing, lando. i can’t even pretend to love this version of you,” she ranted, her anger being overcome with sadness, “you know what? fix your own reputation - or don’t. i don’t care what or who you do anymore,” she finished, turning on her heel and storming away from him.
he wanted to follow her, he wanted to hold her close as he apologised. lando knew he was being selfish, he knew it wasn’t fair to string her along under the pretence of saving his career. he knew he could no longer pretend, not with her and not with the public. lando needed her in every sense of the word. but duty calls, so he settles on dealing with this later, sitting her down and telling her the truth, even if it had the potential to destroy their friendship - he figured he couldn’t make it any worse.
but y/n isn’t at the track when he finishes up for the day, and she’s not at the hotel when he returns - and neither are her belongings. lando checked his phone repeatedly, messaging her desperately.
he fell to the bed, head in his hands as he tried to regulate his breathing.
she was gone, and it was all his fault.
✧ i know that you're perfect for me
…tell me that you're sorry
…won't you please just take my heart again ✧
it took a few weeks for lando to finally stop messaging her, though y/n noticed an increase in visits from max, their mutual friend, under the guise of “just checking in” on his childhood friend. y/ wasn’t stupid, she knew who was behind max’s sudden interest in her wellbeing. but max was stupid either, he knew why the two of them had taken this fall out so hard.
“you did what?” max shouted in shock.
“i asked her to pretend to be girlfriend so i could keep my job,” lando sighed, hiding his face in his hands.
“you’re stupid.”
“i know.”
“in what world was that ever going to end well?”
“the world where i didn’t realise i actually do fancy her?” lando replied quietly, questioning his own admission.
“im so stupid,” max replied.
“how are you the stupid one here?”
“stupid for believing the two of you had finally worked out what has been right in front of you since we were 13.”
lando was desperate. he needed to talk to her, he needed to tell her how he felt - but for now, he settled with knowing she was ok.
“she’s alive and healthy - and she had pizza for lunch,” max told him over the phone, growing tired of this weekly routine the two of them had started.
“but she’s doing ok, right?”
“she’s good, lan,” he reassured, neglecting to tell him the part where she cried on him about losing her best friend over a trivial, child-like crush.
“but…?” lando asked, sensing there was more.
“but - she still doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“i could’ve guessed that one, thanks mate.”
“hey dont get mean with me - im just doing what you asked.”
“i know, sorry.”
“don’t apologise to me, find a way to fix this you muppet.”
y/n was not ok, spending most of her nights alone, scrolling through social media seeing the rumours about her and lando’s supposed split - “she’s wasn’t at the race” “i saw her leaving suzuka crying” “he looks so sad in interviews”. why do they care so much? but they aren’t wrong, she thought.
she began looking for a job, but nothing seemed as exciting as the work she’d done with mclarens environmental programme - which seemed to no longer be an option. unbeknownst to her, mclaren also loved the work she had done with them - her presence was greatly missed in the garage by many, especially those on the receiving end of lando’s current outbursts.
y/n’s phone lit up the entire room, the notification cutting through the silence of her room, breaking her away from her own thoughts.
-
y/n was still convinced this was a trick, luring her to miami under the pretence of work so that oscar could push her head first into a trap. the thought stuck with her throughout her plane journey, as she checked in to her hotel, even up to the moment she knocked on oscar’s door to discuss the project. she was waiting for lando to appear, push her into a locked room and force her to talk to him.
“…’but if i talk to him, ill end up telling him why i ran, and how i feel about him, then he’ll reject me, laugh in my face and im back to feeling sorry for myself,” she told oscar, having finished giving him the run down for their project, and allowing the conversation to move to the elephant in the room - what had happened between her and lando.
“im sure that’s not true,” he replied, feeling sad for the girl in front of him, though he already knew most of the story from hearing lando’s self-destructive rants.
she opened her mouth to responded, but was stopped by a sharp knock at the door.
“oscar? are you ready to go?” a familiar voice called from the other side, sending y/n’s blood cold, her eyes widening in panic.
“what the fuck, oscar?” she whispered shouted, feeling betrayed.
“i didn’t know he was coming y/n, i swear, i’d never do that to you,” oscar reassured her truthfully, although slightly beaming as a plan formulated in his head, “stay there, ill tell him to meet me downstairs.”
oscar stood, moving to open the door slightly.
“hey mate - just got some things to sort out, ill meet you downstairs in 15?”
“sure,” lando nodded, turning to leave, but not before his eyes drifted into the room, spotting the same pair of flowery vans that had spent months sitting in his hallway. y/n’s vans.
lando walked down to the lobby, taking a seat as he waited for oscar, his mind consumed with the fact that y/n was here, in miami, in his hotel. why was she here? why hadn’t she told him? was she still avoiding him?
“he-”
“where is she?” lando interrupted the australian the moment he approached.
“’hi oscar, are you ready to go?’ would’ve been my response but ok,” oscar replied.
“where is she, oscar?” lando continued, determined.
“she doesn’t want to see you.”
“i know,” he replied bluntly, “why is she here?”
“y/n was invited to join mclaren as an advisor on a new climate video,” oscar gave in, replying as professionally as he could - he wasn’t here to discuss their ‘breakup’.
that’s a lie, he’s pretty sure zak asked him to do another environmental video purely to suggest that he contacted y/n to be an advisor. and he’s absolutely certain that zak, equally as fed up with lando’s attitude, was looking for a reason to bring the two back together.
“who invited her? where is she staying?” lando quizzed him as they walked towards the car, doubting he’d even get an answer.
“zak invited her, he appreciated the work she did for us in australia,” oscar replied, ignoring his second question. lando hummed in response, if oscar wouldn’t tell him, he would find out for himself.
it was only a press day, so lando split from his teammate and began his hunt for zak brown. it wasn’t hard, the man was wearing bright orange and had a laugh that could be heard for miles.
“hey zak,” he started.
“hey lando, what can i do for you?” zak asked, glancing at his at a text on his phone quickly before giving lando his full attention.
“how are you?” lando asked hastily, beginning his attempt to bombard his boss with questions till he slipped up.
“im good.”
“what are you doing today?”
“just going over some things with the team.”
“what do you think the weather will be like on sunday?”
“war-”
“where’s she staying?”
“the marriot i-” zak replied, pretending to stutter as he answered, feigning shock at accidentally revealing the hotel.
“thanks zak, love you,” lando called out as he jogged out. zak smirked to himself, replying to oscar’s message.
z → mission complete.
o → you made sure it looked like an accident, right?
z → jesus oscar i just told him the hotel name i didn’t kill him
of course lando couldn’t leave the track immediately, he had a job to do first. but the moment he became free for the evening, he was off, arriving at the hotel in record time. there were many cons to being a recognisable face, but a pro of being so famous was a hotel receptionist who barely batted an eyelid as lando demanded to know the room number of y/n l/n.
his knuckles rapped on the door quickly, his heartrate beating rapidly as he did. this could go so many ways, and most of them were not good. the door swung open, his eyes coming to look at the woman in front of him - she looked good, but she looked different, like something was missing.
“lando? what are yo- OSCAR!” she called out, turning to look back into the room, the door widening as she did revealing his teammate sat at the desk, “did you do this?”
“not me,” he replied, holding his hands up in defence. her head spun back around to look at lando, she was taking him in. he had a plaster on his nose, the curls were alive and well, and his everlasting tan ran the expanse of his skin. she didn’t want to admire him, but damn, miami was treating him well.
“go away i dont want to see you,” she announced suddenly, trying to shut the door but finding his foot blocking it.
“i know you don’t, but i need you to just listen to me, please. and then you can shut the door and never have to deal with me again,” he told her, pleading.
“oscar’s here.”
“actually, i should probably get going,” oscar announced moving to grab his stuff to leave. y/ns head shot back around, her eyes shooting daggers at him as if to say ‘dont you dare leave me alone with him right now’ to which he merely shrugged and walked out.
lando closed the door behind him, moving the two of them back into the room - y/n sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed as he remained stood in front of her.
“what do you need to tell me?” she asked him impatiently.
“y/n, these last few weeks have been hell for me. i know i hurt you, i said some horrible stuff that you really didn’t deserve and i will do anything for you to forgive me and move past this,” he said, pausing before adding, “i don’t know about yo-”
“oh, so it wasn’t you sending max to “check in on me” every week?” she interrupted, her eyebrows quirking with her accusation.
“you worked that one out then?” lando replied, laughing slightly, relief washing over him that she didn’t seem angry at him.
“it was so obvious! since when has max ever felt the need to check im doing ok ever? let alone every week?”
“i sent him because i care about you y/n. you weren’t responding to my messages, dodging my calls,” he told her, watching her smile slightly, a blush rising her face.
“so why are you here now?”
“look, this whole ‘thing’,” he started, waving his arms to indicate he meant whatever the two of them were doing, “it started as something purely to benefit the both of our careers. but i think somewhere down the line, it turned into something more. something that should’ve happened years ago,” he told her, his heart ready to beat its way out of his chest and jump out the window.
the two sat in silence for a moment, y/n mulled over his words in her head. this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? she wanted him to love her the way she loved him. so, why did she feel so apprehensive about letting him back in?
“i know you felt it too, y/n,” lando said again, not letting her thoughts distract her too far.
“feel,” she said bluntly.
“huh?”
“you said felt. i still feel that way about you lan.”
“then why won’t you let me in?”
“you said some really nasty stuff to me, lan. really horrible stuff that had me reconsidering my entire life. you’re lucky i even let you stay. why couldn’t you just be honest with me - instead of pushing me away?”
“i didn’t know how to,” he admitted, stepping closer to her, “if i had a time machine, i would take back everything i said. id go back and slap some fucking sense into myself.”
lando now stood directly in front of her, his thighs brushing her knees lightly as his hand moved to her face, wiping away a tear she didn’t even know what trailing down her cheek. his fingers tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear before settling on cupping her jaw lightly.
“can you forgive me?” he asked her softly, thumb stroking at her cheek.
“it’s not all your fault, lan. i could’ve said something too,” she told him.
“please just say you forgive me so i can kiss you, you idiot,” he laughed out.
“forgiven,” y/n said quickly, her head tilting so that their lips met. it was familiar, the feeling his lips on hers, but this time there was a sense of urgency. a sense of love that was absent anytime they had kissed before. his tongue swiped at her bottom lip, desperate for more which she granted happily, as her hands moved to rest in his hair, tugging at the curls lightly.
“fuck, y/n. ‘missed you so much,” he moaned out, the grip on his hair sending his mind blank.
“missed you too,” she replied as he moved to kiss down her neck softly, “even if you were a bit of a dick.”
“let me make it up to you?” lando teased, nipping at the skin of her neck whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her top.
“there’s a lot to make up for.”
“ive got time,” he replied, pulling the fabric away from her body fully. her hands reached out, grabbing at his mclaren polo to remove it as well, dropping it next to herself on the bed.
lando laid her back on the bed, hovering over her as he continued kissing down the flesh of her torso.
“y/n i forgot m-” oscar started, barging back into the room, “oh my god, ive been gone what…? 3 minutes? how have you already taken your clothes off?” he exclaimed with a laugh.
“fuck off!” y/n and lando called out in unison, lando reaching for his top and launching it in oscar’s direction.
“ok ok, im going,” he replied, raising his hands again in defence, “stay safe kids,” he added before leaving the room, his forgotten phone now in tow.
“kids?” lando muttered, “im older than him?”
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#propertyofwicked
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love to hate you | jjk [vii]
“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”
— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU
— pairing: jungkook x female reader
— word count: 17.966
— warnings: swearing/cursing, alcohol consumption, jealousy, no communication skills whatsoever
— playlist: to be added
— a/n: after almost two years of no update its done. it would be a lie to say that i was always one hundred percent sure this was gonna see the light of day but its finally here, and im so so so happy to just put it out there and give it to you guys. @koocycle has listened to me bitch abt this one so much so thanks to her, also for kinda inspiring me to get back into tumblr.com and writing !! enjoy!! and once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!
“You’re really showing your wealth, you know?” you said as Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat, shutting out the cold air. He raised a brow, handing you the bag for you to hold onto, shivering slightly from the cold, his neck exposed to the harsh wind.
“How so?”
The engine sputtered to life as he slotted in the keys, his phone mounted to the dashboard, showing him the way. You pulled out the one-hundred-dollar expensive wine bottle from the bag, scrutinising it. Some of the glitter from the red ribbon the salesman had wrapped around it in an effort to be more festive and fitting today’s occasion peeled off.
“This is too much.”
“Yeah, I know, the bow’s tacky but I couldn’t stop Kangjoon from-”
“No, I mean the hundred bucks you dropped on it. It shows your wealth,” you repeated, scrunching your nose. “Also, didn’t know you were on a first name basis with the salesman.”
You let the bottle slip back into its bag, scared Jungkook was going to make a sharp stop and cause you to drop and waste the bottle. God knows you didn’t have one hundred bucks casually lying around like him—even though you were sure Jungkook wouldn’t make you replace it and would definitely just buy it again himself.
“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t like Kangjoon? He’s a great man, very competent.” And just as you were about to tell him that Kangjoon scammed him, Jungkook continued, “Also isn’t that the whole reason why you’re dating me? My wealth?”
He said it with a grin, turning to you as he let a family of four pass, receiving a thankful hand raise from both of the parents as they ushered their young children across the street. And even though he meant it purely as a joke, his smile and tone indicating as much, his words made you scrunch your face like you’d been stung by a bee.
“It’s so unnecessary. We wouldn’t know the difference between this and supermarket wine, and Chae literally said not to bring anything. She’s gonna scold you, you know?”
If it had gone your way, you’d have gotten the second cheapest bottle of semi-fancy alcohol they had and called it a day but Jungkook swiped his card before you could intervene, ever so easily charmed. Well, actually if it had gone your way at all, you wouldn’t have brought anything to begin with. Chaeyoung hated it if her guests brought anything anyway.
“Gotta impress your friends, don’t I? Can’t have them not like me,” he argued, and you rolled your eyes.
“First of all, no, you don’t-”
“You don’t want your friends to like your boyfriend?” Jungkook gasped, staring at you with his mouth agape and eyes wide as you came to a stop in front of a red light. You shook your head.
“No, can I speak?” you sighed, frowning as Jungkook laughed, clearly getting his kick out of annoying you. “My friends already like you, and you know that. We’re driving to Ji’s and Chae’s place now for a Christmas party. One that you were explicitly invited to. So I don’t believe you for a second when you say that you got this wine to impress them. Also, Chae said not to bring anything. You just like spending money.”
Jungkook pursed his lips, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Do I now?”
“Am I not exhibit A?”
He gave you a look as if to say touché.
“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “But just so you know, I gladly spent my money on that wine if it means I’ll impress your friends and make them like me more. And I’m even more than happy to spend it on you, cabbage.”
He looked at you by the end of his words, flashing you a grin. A grin that made him look so pretty and adorable, that would have made your knees buckle if you hadn’t been sitting, that wrapped your heart into his grip even tighter. A grin that made you wonder if a parachute would be enough to stop your fall for him, or if you were simply doomed for this fate, for the bone crushing landing.
You turned your head to the window, glad to see you had made it to Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s place.
“I think you’re just happy to have an excuse to spend your money,” you mumble, pretending to busy yourself with the straps of the bag.
“Sure—” There was a shrug, and you should have prepared yourself for the worst, should know better by now that Jungkook couldn’t just agree with you and leave you in peace. “—or you’re just the love of my life, cabbage, and what’s mine is yours.”
The words remained casual on Jungkook’s tongue, easy as ever. And they remained difficult and frown-inducing for you.
“You’re-!”
A laugh bubbled up from Jungkook’s upon your silence, and though you were trying your deepest and most desperate to resist, your heart skipped a beat. It was fatal, cardiologists would say. How deeply you’d fallen, it was fatal. Your heart couldn’t be saved.
And as if he hadn’t said the most impossible thing ever, Jungkook pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, a grin plastered on his lips.
“Alright, let’s-”
You yanked the door open, stepping (of course) in a puddle. With a groan and wince, you slammed the door shut. Your breath came out white and cloudy, December coming into its full swing. The weather had been harsher than ever—wind dragging on your skin until it was painful and tense, air cold enough to dry out your throat and mouth, every window coloured a milky white, and clouds hanging far and wide in the sky for every hour of the day. The urge to crawl back into the oh so warm car was strong. The urge to run away from Jungkook however was just that much stronger.
The bottle bumped your hip bone as you rushed towards Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s apartment building. You didn’t turn around as Jungkook called after you to wait with a laugh, fumbling to unhook his phone from the dashboard.
You reached the glass front door rather quickly, a handprint smudged across it that hadn’t been there last time. You cringed, but couldn’t think about it too much, worrying a lot more about the diminishing distance between Jungkook and you as you waited for one of your friends to open the stupid door for you. You knew for a fact they were already there, spotting Hoseok’s car parked on the side of the street. If he was there, Jimin was too, always catching a ride with him.
“Do you really think you can outrun me?” Jungkook called out, just a dozen steps behind you.
You pulled on the front door as if it made a difference, pressing the bell repeatedly. He slowed his walk, burying his hands into his pockets. All so very smug. Your features twisted into a frown.
“You’re so slow. You always run from me as if I won’t catch up with you in two-”
For once fate seemed to be on your side, the buzzer cutting through the air. The door almost hit you in the face when you yanked it open. You slammed it back shut again, just right in front of Jungkook’s nose. He pulled on the handle. The lock had clicked in. You watched his features twist as he realised he was too slow. His lips pressed together, curling inwards as he watched the biggest and proudest grin spread on yours.
“What were you saying? About me being too slow?” you said. A smile tucked on the corners of his mouth as he shook his head at you.
“Open up.”
He knocked on the glass, right in front of your nose.
“What? I can’t hear you.”
You put your hand to your ear, tilting your head.
“Just open up.”
“You gotta speak louder. I really can’t hear you with this door between-”
“Cabbage, you better open the door for me now, or I’m gonna make you regret it,” Jungkook said, narrowing his eyes, tongue poking in his cheek. And even though you were certain it was an empty threat—how was he going to make you regret it?—, you contemplated for just a second if maybe you should listen and open the door.
“I’m gonna count to three.”
You scoffed. Were you a kid? And even more so, what was Jungkook going to do to you? Were you going to cave because of an empty threat?
“Please do,” you smiled, eliciting one from Jungkook himself.
“Three.”
He raised a brow.
“Two.”
You folded your arms in front of your chest.
“One.”
A moment passed.
Nothing happened.
“Alright, fine,” Jungkook said before dramatically ringing the bell. And even though you rolled your eyes, you did inch back. He was going to chase you, that one was for sure.
The moment the buzzer rang, you took off. Jungkook let out a laugh.
“Now, you run?” he taunted, pulling the door open, his steps echoing through the hallway. You took two stairs at a time, yelping when you realised that Jungkook was hot on your tail. Maybe you should have run earlier. Or maybe you should have opened the door for him. But who were you, letting a guy threaten you? No less Jungkook of all people, that idiot.
You made it up the flight of stairs faster than you ever had, your lungs lit on fire. The front door already stood ajar for you. You could distantly hear Chaeyoung call out for Jisoo- A hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. Jungkook stood right in front of you, chest bumping into you, the biggest grin on his lips.
Shit.
“Gotcha.”
Your face soured.
“Oh, h-how are you?” you coughed with a smile, and he chuckled, never taking his eyes off of you even as he grabbed the bag from your hands and placed it down. You had completely forgotten about it. “Don’t look at me like this. T-that’s not fun.”
“Neither was having the door slammed in my face.”
You backed into the wall. Turns out being tough was a lot more difficult when there wasn’t a door to shield you and Jungkook was actually in front of you, just centimetres from your face and staring at you like you were his favourite thing in this entire world. His hand sneaked around your waist, slipping underneath your sweater, fingers grazing the small of your back. His touch was light and delicate, teasing in all the right ways. It was cold too, making you arch and almost wince. And it was all too much—a tingle spreading across your back, rushing straight to your heart.
“Any last words before I make you regret it?” Jungkook hummed, and you should snort and laugh because he should sound ridiculous. But somehow, his words made you tense, the mere thought making your head spin in rounds and rounds. You bit on your tongue, silencing any sound that might just want to crawl up your throat.
You shouldn’t let Jungkook be this close to you. You needed distance for your sanity. But you couldn’t bring it over your heart to push him away. You didn’t have it in you. Not when there was very much a part of you that wanted to find out what Jungkook exactly meant.
He drank you up with his eyes, gaze dark and full of something hazy. Full of something you couldn’t pinpoint. But you loved it, you did. Maybe a little too much even. You loved the way it made your heart thump and rumble in your chest, made you forget that this was too much and far and dangerous, that Jungkook and you should keep your distance because in just a few weeks all of this would be over and you’d go your merry ways. But right now, with your back against the wall and Jungkook caging you in, thrill and excitement rushing through every single one of your cells, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t think you ever could.
“Got nothing to say now, cabbage?”
And when you still wouldn’t respond, he smiled. His face inched closer to yours, his nose brushing yours. Your fingers itched to hold onto something, onto him, curling and uncurling in the air. Because you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. But you did, hands gripping his sweater as if you were lost in the sea and he was all you had to cling to.
You closed your eyes, anticipating and waiting for Jungkook to kiss you, your breath stuck in your chest. Any time now. It was going to happen-
“Oh my God, please don’t do this in my hallway.”
You whipped your head around, your heart dropping to the floor. Jisoo stood in the doorway, face twisted in utter disgust.
“Please, anywhere but my fucking hallway. That's all I’m gonna be able to think about. Seeing the two of you eating each other’s faces.”
There was even clearer disgust in her voice.
Oh God.
“Hello, Ji,” Jungkook smiled, and you expected him to back away from you, but he gave you no distance. He wasn’t even the slightest embarrassed, if anything you sensed the slightest annoyance swinging with his words.
“Please step away from her, Kook,” Jisoo asked, gesturing for him to move backwards. But he wasn’t all too eager to follow, staying cemented right in front of you, hands still around your waist. He paused to think.
“I’ve got a really expensive bottle of wine.” He pointed to the bag. “I’ll give it to you in exchange for five more minutes.”
“Oh, you brought something? Chae’s gonna kill you,” Jisoo laughed before changing her tune, tilting her head to the side. “But how expensive are we talking?”
“Like one hundred bucks.”
You stared holes into Jungkook, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Were you not right here too? Did you become air? It was like you were cattle being sold off.
“Oh,” Jisoo gasped before shrugging. “Okay, deal-”
“Yeah, no way,” you laughed before doing what you should have done earlier—you pushed Jungkook away, making him tumble backwards a little. You stepped around him.
“But, Y/N, it’s one hundred-”
“Ji!” you gasped, making her laugh and reach out for you. She wrapped her arms around your neck, giggling as she did.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I would never,” she told you, and you raised a brow at her. “Right, Kook?”
“Yeah, we were just kidding.”
“I don’t- hey! I can see you two exchanging looks!” you gasped, neither of the two even trying to be subtle. “Do you think I’m blind?”
“Ha, funny, I think-” Jisoo cleared her throat. “—I think Chae is calling for me? Oh my God, do you hear that? Yes, I’m on my way, Chae!”
And as if she hadn’t just stabbed you in the back, she slipped inside. But not without grabbing the bag and thanking Jungkook for it. You rolled your eyes, turning to head inside when he cleared his throat.
Jungkook was staring at you with his brows raised, clearly expecting… something.
“What?” you barked. He gave you a smile before stretching out his hand. You groaned. “Seriously? We have to get inside-”
But he waved his hand around, not budging. Rolling your eyes and with a long exhale, you took his hand into yours.
“You’re a child-”
Jungkook pulled you towards him, shutting you up with a kiss. One hand cupped your cheek and the other rested on the small of your back, pushing you into him. The kiss was tender and soft, gentle and light. And still, it was enough to have your heart thumping louder and harder in your chest than ever before. You asked yourself if Jungkook could feel it at all. That heart of yours that was oh so tight in his grip. That heart of yours that was bleeding in your chest. That heart of yours already ached at the thought of this all ending in just a few weeks.
It was a lovely kiss, a devastatingly lovely kiss.
And when Jungkook pulled away, his eyes so full and beautiful, you felt gutted and empty. Because this meant nothing to him. This meant nothing at all. You looked away. Jungkook laughed, pulling you flush to his side, all too unaware.
“Let’s go?”
You nodded slightly.
Jimin was first to greet you, leaping up from the couch and pulling you into a hug. “You made it!”
“Took you long enough,” Taehyung mumbled, sipping on his beer, earning himself a look from Namjoon that he simply ignored. “We could hear you two yelling around in the hallway.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Tae,” Jungkook laughed, and the older one frowned at him.
“It’s December 10th.”
“In other words, it’s almost-”
“No, it’s not-”
Hoseok greeted you with a hug, ignoring Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s bickering because otherwise he would never get to say hello to you. “Looking good.”
“Thanks.” You stared at his sweater. “That’s one really ugly Christmas sweater.”
He laughed, thanking you. Seokjin and Namjoon were next to give you a quick hug, followed by Jennie and Yoongi, exchanging a few words with each of them. Taehyung and you stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. And though he tried to hide it, a smile formed on his lips. A smile you could only return. You blamed it on the holidays. They made you especially sappy and sentimental.
You were first to reach out. Taehyung reciprocated the hug. It was a little awkward and short and one-armed. It was more than anyone could ask of you. Jungkook nodded in both amazement and approval when you caught his eyes for a split second, and you just scrunched your nose at him.
“So how-”
You tuned out Seokjin, taking a minute to admire the decoration around you instead. Chaeyoung (because Jisoo wasn’t particularly all too fond of Christmas, but did put up with all of it because Chaeyoung very much was) always outdid herself every holiday season: red little fuzzy stockings hanging off shelves and cupboard knobs, cinnamon-scented candles lit up all throughout the place, miniature Santa and reindeer figurines sitting on every surface alongside bowls of chocolates and peppermints with fake snow underneath. There was even a small fake Christmas tree crammed into the corner of their living room with colourful baubles (some of which Jimin had gifted and had pictures of you all printed on them) and equally colourful fairy lights hanging on it. And of course, Michael Bublé was on heavy rotation, his voice carried throughout the home.
“Where’s Chae?” you asked Jisoo when she came up next to you, both of you standing in front of the Christmas tree.
“Oh, you know-”
“Ah, great, you guys finally made it as well,” Chaeyoung exhaled, coming out from the kitchen, and seeing Jungkook and you among the other guests. There was a slight edge accompanying her words, and you doubted for no second that her nerves were running high from having to host tonight and needing all of this to turn out perfect. (Even if she chose this fate upon herself.) Her updo was falling apart, strands sticking out in the wrong places. Still, she looked pretty. Especially with her reindeer apron tied around her waist. She had had it since middle school, and seeing it brought back all kinds of memories. You couldn’t help but grin, Jisoo and you exchanging looks. And when your gaze met Chaeoyung’s, she knew. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head.
“Yeah, I know,” she mumbled, speaking to you too only and confusing the others in the process. Jisoo and you snickered.
“Anyway—” Chaeyoyung waved her hand around, “—I’ve got some unfortunate news. Dinner isn’t ready. I’ll need at least another thirty minutes. Hope you guys didn’t come too hungry.”
“Do you need help with anything?” Jungkook asked, already getting up from the couch. Yoongi raised his hand, silently extending the offer as well. Jennie nodded, clearly willing to get her hands dirty too.
“Yeah, anything we can do to help you?” Taehyung asked, making an effort to get up too, but Chaeyoung was quick to shake her head.
“No, I don’t need help,” she mumbled, clearing her throat. “I just wanted to inform you guys. You all would help if you guys just busied yourself and didn’t come into the kitchen.”
And before anyone could insist on their help, Chaeyoung disappeared back inside the kitchen.
“Shouldn’t we-?”
“If you wanna stay on her good side, don’t take a single step into the kitchen. Don’t even breathe in that direction, or think about helping her,” Jisoo explained, and Jungkook looked at you as if to ask if this was exaggerated at all.
“Yeah, Chae’s… very peculiar with that kind of stuff.”
“But there are so many of us. Is she really gonna do all of it on her own?” Jennie asked, but Hoseok waved her off.
“Trust me, she is and she will. Chae gets super stressed, but she also loves to host. If you don’t let her, she’ll be in a bad mood for ages. It’s better to just let her do her own thing.”
“And if it actually gets too much, she’ll come out and ask for help at one point. Trust me,” Jimin added.
“You think? I’m not so sure about that one,” Jisoo snorted and moved over to grab a handful of chocolates. Almost instinctively, she placed a hand on Jennie’s shoulder, and for a moment, you wondered if Jungkook and you ever looked this natural and comfortable with each other. If you looked as much as a couple as Jisoo and Jennie did. “When has she ever asked for help?”
“There’s no way she can do all of this on her own,” Taehyung said, frowning.
“You don’t know Chae.”
“Maybe. But it seems humanly impossible to pull off this entire thing without asking for at least some help.”
Jisoo raised her brow at Taehyung, pausing a moment. “Oh, do you wanna bet?” Her mouth pulled into a grin at the mere prospect of making some easy money. “Ten bucks?”
Hoseok and you exchanged glances over their heads. This was very much typical of Jisoo.
“Don’t bet with her, Tae. She’s a scammer,” Jimin said, pushing Jisoo’s hand away as she waited for him to shake it.
“I won’t,” Taehyung laughed, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I don’t do-”
The ear-shattering sound of a pan clashing with the kitchen tiles emerged from the kitchen, followed up with a few loud curses and an “It’s fine!”. You cringed when something else you couldn’t identify fell to the floor a second later, eliciting even more curses. Almost instinctively, you turned to Jisoo, nudging her. Because as much as she was right that it was a bad idea to go help Chaeyoung, it would actually be worse not to go in right now when everything seemed to go off the rails.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. My cue to jump in,” she grumbled, begrudgingly making her way to the kitchen, knowing already she would have to endure Chaeyoung’s snappy attitude. She squeezed Jennie’s hand in goodbye.
“See, she’s getting help,” Taehyung said to no one in particular and righteously took a sip from his beer. Jungkook applauded him sarcastically, and you were about to say something when-
“Oh, this is cute!” Seokjin gasped, coming up to you. You followed his gaze to the bauble he was admiring. It had an old picture of you and your friends on it, faces curving around the porcelain. “How old are you guys there?”
You pursed your lips. “That’s probably senior year? So like seventeen maybe? Eighteen?”
“What are you guys doing- oh my God, you guys look so young.” Namjoon hooked an arm around Seokijn’s shoulder, marvelling at your younger selves. “Look at that one!”
He pointed out one with just Jisoo, Chaeyoung and you on it. It was one of the first pictures you three had taken together. All three of you still stuck in middle school. You couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed or nostalgic.
“Is that Ji? Her hair, oh my God!” Seokjin laughed, pointing out the blunt bob Jisoo used to rock.
“Don’t be mean!” And yet, Namjoon laughed too.
“You’re lucky Ji can’t hear you right now because she’d kill you,” you said. “But actually, you should see some of Seok’s old pictures. He looks so different-”
A hand snaked around your waist. You tensed. But you relaxed a second later when you realised who it was. You peeked over your shoulder just to check and smiled when you turned out to be right. He placed his chin on your shoulder.
“Hello,” Jungkook whispered, and you squirmed, his breath tickling your ear. He was so close to you, too close. You could practically feel his heart beating behind yours.
“Hey,” you returned, a bit breathless and pitchy. You cleared your throat.
“What are you guys doing?”
“Oh, uh, nothing really,” you mumbled, waving your hand around.
Jungkook frowned, but didn’t ask any further. “Okay, well, I wanted to get you something to drink. You think I can go into the kitchen without getting murdered?”
“Yeah, you’re fine. Ji’s there too,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you, eyes big and so full and a smile on his lips.
“Okay, then do you want anything in particular?”
You shook your head. “Uh, no, whatever is fine.”
“Whatever it is.”
But rather than just leave to get you said drink, Jungkook lingered, not moving away from you just yet. You raised a brow at him, making him smile. As if he could read your mind, he loosened his grip around your waist, but not before pressing a kiss to your neck.
“Getting you that drink,” he smiled, backing away.
You touched a hand to where he had kissed you, gripping, feeling hot all of a sudden. It was stupid, you were stupid.
“Jesus.”
And albeit, it was quiet and muttered under his breath, you heard it very clearly. You looked at Seokjin, eyes big as he stared back at you with a grin on his lips. There was a fondness in his eyes, a look you always saw on Jimin’s face. Namjoon wore it too.
“What?” you asked when the expression wouldn’t disappear.
“It’s just-”
He sighed and shook his head.
“What?” you repeated, but Seokjin wouldn’t continue.
“You guys are just cute,” Namjoon supplied.
“Oh, please,” you scoffed, shaking your head.
“You guys are exactly like Jin and Mina used to be,” Yoongi said, coming up next to you, having witnessed the entire exchange from his spot on the couch.
“What?” you laughed, shaking your head over and over again. “I have no idea what-”
“Don’t deny it, Y/N,” Namjoon laughed and looked at you.
“It’s gross really,” Yoongi scoffed, taking a sip from his beer. “How smitten he is for you. How happy and—” He shuddered for the drama of it all but wore a smile on his lips. “—stupidly in love you two are.”
Wait, what?
“It’s cute,” Seokjin corrected, and you stared at him with stunned silence.
“Is it though?”
“Don’t be like that, Yoongs. When have you ever seen Kook this happy before?”
The question, though not directed at you at all, made you freeze. And when you looked at Yoongi and he made no effort to disagree, you froze.
“You make him really happy,” Namjoon said with a smile and tilted his head when you didn’t speak or react at all, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “You know that, right?”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks, crashing down on you and compressing your lungs. Because, no, you didn’t. You didn’t think about it ever, and why would you? It never seemed possible to you because it simply wasn’t possible you made Jungkook happy. You didn’t have that power over him.
Was this really how you looked like to others—two people who were in love and happy? It sounded ridiculous to you, impossible. So much so, you just had to shake your head and wave your hand around as if the words loomed in front of you and had to be physically dismissed. Your heart banged in your ribcage, loud and far too heavy.
“You guys are exaggerating!” you chuckled, voice wavering the slightest bit. “This has nothing to do with me- Finals are over and it’s Christmas, so obviously-”
A single look from them was all it took to silence you. They didn’t have to say a word for you to know what they were collectively thinking.
“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Seokjin said.
“For god’s sake, just look at that boy,” Yoongi laughed, pointing behind you, and your gaze followed his hand. Right then Jungkook came back with two drinks, one for you and one for him.
He seemed surprised, stilling as he saw that you were all looking at him. But he recovered, mouth pulling into a big smile. Your eyes met his. You would have missed it if you hadn’t looked so close and paid attention to every little thing he did. But you saw it, the tiny smile he offered you, and only you. It was like a little secret. Just for you and him to know and share and see.
Did you really make him happy?
“Why are you guys staring at me like that?” Jungkook laughed, coming to a stop in front of you and handing you your drink. You took it passively, and purely from the warmth, you knew it was your favourite, green tea. “Are you guys talking shit about me?”
“Oh, yeah, you know just the usual shit talking we do about you,” Namjoon snorted.
“Mhm, the usual stuff. How you always-”
Seokjin’s voice faded away when Jungkook moved closer to you, his arm already lifting to sneak around your middle. But you couldn’t do this. Not now.
“Sorry, I gotta pee,” you mumbled, wringing out of Jungkook’s grasp, his fingers just barely brushing your skin. You didn’t know who you interrupted, but you offered them all an apologetic look but you never quite looked at Jungkook. Your exit seemed natural enough though, you thought. No one made an effort to stop you.
Some of your drink spilt over when you put it down on the coffee table too quickly, and you even almost bumped into Hoseok, but rather than apologise properly and clean up your mess, you hurried into the bathroom.
The moment the lock clicked shut behind you, you let yourself crumble, knees giving in. If only just a little.
Oh God.
It wasn’t very environmentally friendly, not very Save the Turtles! kind of behaviour of you at all as you just let the water run and run into the sink and down the drain. You didn’t even wash your hands or face, just needing something to fill the silence as you sat on the edge of the bathtub and let yourself calm down.
You felt ridiculous. You truly did. Insane and crazy even. The behaviour you were exhibiting was probably therapist worthy. The panic. For what? And why? It was behaviour you never imagined yourself exhibiting. No less because of Jeon Jungkook. But here you were, playing his pretend girlfriend for money so he could win a bet. And you got all of your friends involved even! You should have really thought this through-
“Cabbage?”
And somehow, both dread and warmth crept up with his voice. You closed your eyes, thinking for a second to shut off the tap. It seemed just a little too exhausting to do that.
“Yeah?”
“Are you good?”
“Yeah.”
It was quiet for a few seconds.
“Can I come in?”
“I’m peeing, Jeon.”
A lie. He knew. You knew.
“Fine, come in.”
When you wouldn’t move, Jungkook gave the door handle a try, surprised to see you hadn’t locked it. You had forgotten, and so he did it for you instead. The moment he saw you sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the tap carelessly running, he stopped, features folding into something nice, pleasant, empathetic.
“Stop,” you groaned, rolling your eyes and turning away from him, shutting off the tap as if that minimised how sad you had to look right now.
Jungkook chuckled, burying his hands into his pants, carefully walking towards you. He sat down next to you, knee pressed against yours. Neither of you pulled away. There was a part of you that should tell him to give you space, but you couldn’t. If anything, you turned a little to him.
“How are you always running off into the bathroom when you feel bad? It’s so obvious,” he mumbled, pinching your nose.
“Ow, stop!” you hissed, swatting his hand aside.
He gave you a look, shaking his head, and you pouted like a child would. It made him chuckle, and you tensed when Jungkook put his head on yours, too tall to lean against your shoulder comfortably, his eyes falling shut.
“What did they say?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence after a while.
“What?”
“Joon and the others. What did they say to make you run off like that?”
You pressed your lips together, disliking that you were so easy to read.
“Who sent you?” you snorted, wanting to figure out which of your friends just earned themselves a plus point.
“No one.”
“What?” you blinked, and looked at him, but he kept his eyes closed. “So you-”
“No one sent me. I just… wanted to make sure you were fine myself.”
And hearing that was somehow utterly awful. Because it meant Jungkook cared. At least to some degree, at least enough to want to check on you. It meant that he was able to read you so easily, that he really knew you.
“Now, what did they say? You can tell me. I’ll talk to them for you. Or I won’t if you don’t want me-”
You shook your head, sighing. “Nothing. They said nothing.”
It was true. Because none of what Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi said was worth running off. It wasn’t insulting, or hurtful.
“Are you sure? Seriously, you can just tell me. I’d talk to-”
“I’m serious,” you interrupted, not even wanting to hear how far Jungkook would go for you. “They said nothing. I just had to pee.” You shrugged. “And I just needed a moment to breathe. It’s nothing. I promise.”
Jungkook sat up, glancing at you with his mouth pursed and eyes narrowed. “So just a moment to breathe?”
Your hand almost came up to cup his cheek, the urge to brush over the little scar on his cheekbone tempting you. It was difficult to resist when he was looking at you like that. There was this need, to plant your lips against his. Kiss him and assure him. But you didn’t let yourself. You turned your head to the other side, curling your hand around the cool porcelain of the bathtub until the skin stretched thin over your knuckles and almost hurt. Just anything but Jungkook and his stupidly pretty face.
“Just a moment to breathe,” you mumbled.
Jungkook hummed, straightening up. He let his head hang for a few seconds before lifting it up again and turning to you.
“Is it fine if I stay with you then?”
It was a delicate question, an honest question, a devastating heartbreaking question. Because of course, he could. Of course! He could do anything, as long as he remained by your side. And that realisation, albeit not entirely new to you (you were aware of it to some degree all along), was mortifying.
You closed your eyes, a knot forming in your throat. There was nothing for you to say, a silence stretching between you. A silence Jungkook took as a “yes”, and when his hand gripped yours, it was sealed for you. You didn’t pull away, put your head on his shoulder. What would be the use of resisting? What good would it do? What would it change? Nothing.
So you enjoyed it instead, the moment between him and you. For as long as you could. For now.
“We should probably get back out,” you mumbled when you heard the laughter get louder in the living room.
“Probably.”
And yet, neither of you moved. A few more moments passed. It was the next bound of laughter that ripped you out.
“We should-”
“I think it’s time-”
You both stopped, nodding, knowing. Jungkook was first to get up, groaning like an old man before turning to you and offering you his hand. With one loud sigh, you took it, allowing him to pull you up. You shared a look and a smile.
It felt like you were walking into another world when you stepped outside, still holding hands. Before it was just Jungkook and you. Now it was everyone else too. And almost as if you had said that exact thought out loud, everyone looked at you as you walked back in. You stopped, the same way Jungkook had when he had returned and found you all staring at him. You frowned, the grin spreading on Jimin’s and Jisoo’s (When had she made it back?) faces worrying you. Jungkook seemed as clueless as you.
“What?”
No one said anything for a second.
“Can I?” Jisoo asked, pleading with everyone else, and you narrowed your eyes. She was giddy, and her being giddy was never a good sign, especially for you. Most times it meant you’d be miserable.
“Do the honours,” Jimin said, gesturing for her to ahead.
Jisoo leaned back, grinning from ear to ear. She seemed to stretch the moment thin, take her sweet time to reveal to you what exactly entertained her so much. Jennie shook her head next to her, but she wore a smile on her lips, amused.
You kept close to Jungkook, almost instinctively. As if he could protect you. His hand brushed the small of your back, soothing. Taehyung’s irritating snicker grabbed your attention for a second, but before you could frown at him for it, Jisoo spoke,
“Look up.”
Fuck. You should have figured.
“Ah,” Jungkook laughed upon seeing the mistletoe above your heads.
“You guys are funny,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “And very cute for thinking that we are gonna do-”
“You have to!” Jimin interjected, leaning forward and pointing at the two of you. “It’s the law. The rules of the game.”
You frowned, and the lines deepened even more when you saw everyone from Namjoon, Seokjin and Jennie to Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jisoo nodding along. Of course, they found pleasure in your misery.
“It’s bad luck if you don’t,” Hoseok reminded you of the stupid rules, and you could have thrown something at him. How was no one on your side?
“That’s… made up.”
“Well, if you wanna risk the bad luck, be my guest,” Hoseok chuckled, shrugging, and you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, please, no one believes that!”
But you were met with no ounce of support from anyone. You turned to Jungkook, expecting that he was equally as ticked off as you. But he seemed perfectly fine, his features not even slightly twisted into anything resembling irritation. If anything, he was smiling a little when you met his eyes.
“I don’t know, I’m never one to tempt fate,” he said, and you couldn’t quite decide how to react. Jungkook reached for your hand again, playing with your fingers. “Why risk the bad luck? Also, it’s not like we have never kissed in front of them.” He grinned. “Remember how you jumped me and-”
“Oh my God, I didn’t jump you!” Your voice leapt up a few pitches too high and remained there when your friends began to laugh.
“Now that’s a lie. You practically threw yourself at-”
“Jeon!”
Jungkook cackled, and you could have strangled him right then and there. Your friends laughed too, and you would have snapped at them if your cheeks didn’t warm to an uncomfortable degree. To the point the blood boiled in your ears, so much so you didn’t even hear Namjoon’s holler about how it was just a kiss!
It wasn’t completely lost on you that it was stupid to be embarrassed, considering how boldly you had claimed Jungkook as yours in front of a room of strangers just a few weeks ago. Especially considering that all of your friends had a slight alcohol level going on anyway already and were most definitely moving on the second the kiss happened. But it was different. At the Halloween party, you were positively buzzed, your vision blurry and fuzzy. But more importantly, you were jealous to the point of turning green. It seemed so much more intimate to kiss Jungkook in front of everyone now. And so very vulnerable because you wanted to so much. Kiss him. You always did these days, yearned to. That desire scared you, was mortifying in more ways than you could describe, particularly in this moment because what if they could all sense it? What if Jungkook realised it all of a sudden? That you really wanted this? That your entire heart ached for him?
And as if you had the fear written all over your face, Jungkook reached for you, tugging on your elbow and turning you back to him. He gave you a smile, his head tilted to the side. A few strands slipped out of his perfectly messy hair, and a soft shadow covered half his face. Right then, he seemed all so delicate to you, so good, so precious. It was instant, your heartbeat dwindled into something calmer and wilder at the same time. Somehow, it seemed almost easy and much more difficult to kiss him and pretend it didn’t dig daggers into your heart. None of it made sense, the effect he had on you, but you supposed a lot of things hadn’t made sense in your life since Jungkook’s first appearance.
“It’s just a kiss, cabbage,” he mumbled, shrugging.
It was. It was just a kiss, to your friends, to him. It was nothing, a small price you had to pay to entertain your friends. It was fun and simple. It was just unfortunate that it was so much more to you.
You held your breath when Jungkook placed a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, gentle and soothing. He was doing everything right, and yet, you could have thrown up right then and there. Jimin gasped and squeaked as Jungkook inched closer to you, Jisoo grasping onto his arm because oh my God, they were going to kiss! All while you were desperately, almost frantically, fisting Jungkook’s shirt, as if you would float away otherwise and it was the only thing keeping you on the ground.
And Jungkook kissed you all too delicately.
To the point, you could have believed him. That you meant something to him, that he might just be in love with you. It was horrible, to be kissed like that. You weren’t sure if this was how it felt like, to be in love and to be loved. You hoped it wasn’t.
You pulled him closer to you, deepened the kiss, allowed him in. For just a while, you told yourself. Just until you found the strength in you to resist him, until you deemed your own well-being more important than these fleeting highs with Jungkook.
“Alright, dinner’s- oh.”
Chaeyoung stopped right before she could bump into you, and you quickly pulled away. But Jungkook kept holding you, not letting go of you. Chaeyoung placed her hands on her hips and shot Jimin and Jisoo a long look.
“Ah, who of you idiots did this?”
“Why do you assume it was-”
“So it was you,” Chaeyoung said, interrupting Jimin and shaking her head. “Take it off. Dinner’s ready.”
Jisoo slapped his shoulder, laughing, clearly enjoying seeing him getting reprimanded by Chaeyoung. Jimin rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how Chaeyoung was no fun but he followed her orders, getting up and reaching for the bundle above your heads. You backed away-actually you jumped. It made Jimin pause and narrow his eyes, his mouth lifting into a smile when he saw the opportunity.
“Oh, what if I hold it over you-”
“No, don’t even!” you hissed, pushing Jimin away from you and seeking refuge behind Chaeyoung.
“Oh, it’s just one more kiss, Y/N!” Jimin taunted, following you. You shrieked, moving further from him, irritated by the constant laughter spilling from his throat. He was enjoying this too much. Too much!
“Fuck off!”
“Don’t be like-”
“I’m serious, stop!”
“It’s fun-”
“Okay, no, enough,” Jungkook said, stepping in and swiftly taking the mistletoe from Jimin. He slapped him with it lightly, eliciting a gasp from Jimin. “No more chasing my girlfriend with mistletoe, okay? Or you can do your physics assignments on your own.”
Rubbing his cheek, almost convinced he was allergic to mistletoe now, Jimin gasped as if Jungkook had just declared an end to their friendship. “Kook! How could you say that?”
“Stop chasing my girlfriend then.”
“Oh my God, fine, I won’t,” Jimin groaned, pouting. “You’re so lame.”
When he reached for the mistletoe, Jungkook hesitated, looking over to you and even though you preferred him not to hold it in his hands again, you knew Jimin would get even more offended if Jungkook withheld the bundle from him. So you gave him a nod.
“Okay, alright, dinner’s getting cold,” Chaeyoung said, clapping her hands together when Jimin was back in possession of his mistletoe. “So how about we take this party into the kitchen, yeah?”
Like you had said he would, Jungkook got an earful from Chaeyoung when she noticed the expensive bottle of wine suddenly appear on the dinner table because how dare you bring something when I clearly said not to? And on top of that such an expensive bottle too. Do you shit money? Somebody needs to teach you how to manage your finances. Rather than come to his help, you left Jungkook to fend for himself which earned you puppy eyes from him, but hadn’t you told him better? Surprisingly however he managed to convince her to open the bottle anyway. You were sure she’d get him to return it, or at least take it home again. Jungkook could be very compelling. But you knew that already.
“If the teaching thing doesn’t work out—” Namjoon had his mouth stuffed as he spoke, and you caught Yoongi cringing next to him. “—I think you should become a cook, Chae.”
She smiled sheepishly, waving him off. “Oh, please. My mom’s cooking is so much better.”
“I don’t know if I believe you,” he laughed. “This is seriously so good.”
Hoseok shoved a big bite into his mouth, a drop of sauce splashing onto the table. Chaeyoung smiled and wiped it off for him. He thanked her.
“It’s the best food on Earth. I’d die for it,” Jimin sighed, a little too loud and dramatic, his mouth full with food, giving you all a glimpse into what his stomach must look like. His cheeks were tinted a slight pink, the red wine slowly flushing him through. “Like that one Gordon Ramsey meme? Where you know—” He sat up, changing his voice in a failed attempt to mimic the British celebrity chef. “—he’s like ‘Finally some good fucking food.’ or whatever. That’s how I always feel when I eat Chae.”
For a second, there was silence. Jungkook and you looked at each other with big eyes, a hint of a smile on your lips because it was obvious that Jimin hadn’t realised what he had said, blabbering on and on without a second thought.
“Maybe you should calm it on the alcohol,” Seokjin mumbled, pushing Jimin’s glass away from him. But it had the opposite effect, making him reach for it instead and down the entire contents of his glass in one quick go.
“Never!”
“You mean… her food. When you eat her food, you could cry, right?” Taehyung clarified, and Jimin looked at him with big eyes.
“Oh, yes of course! What else would I mean?” he laughed, loud and boisterous. “Chae’s all yours, Seok. Don’t worry. I’m not your competition.”
Chaeyoung almost choked on the wine, and Hoseok turned a few shades redder.
“Someone get this idiot some water,” Yoongi snorted, and Namjoon already got up.
You turned your gaze to Jisoo when she leaned into you, taking the chaos as a chance to just talk to you, her hand grabbing yours.
“How’s the scarf going by the way? Are your loops now clean?” she whispered, careful to keep her voice low. You glanced towards Jungkook, but he was busy trying to convince Jimin to drink a few sips from the water at least. And though he hadn’t heard a word, you glared at Jisoo, shaking your head.
“Not with him around,” you hissed, and she rolled her eyes.
“Oh, look at him. He’s not paying us attention. I wanna know. I’m invested now, especially because you always called me a grandma for knitting. How’s it going?” she asked, and you knew it was best to just quickly answer her because she wasn’t dropping this.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it now. It’s almost done-”
“What are you guys whispering about?” Jennie asked, leaning in, eyes wandering between Jisoo and you.
“Y/N’s knitting a scarf for her boyfriend for Christmas.”
“Ji!”
Your features couldn’t decide whether or not to contort in embarrassment or fear Jungkook had overheard this time. It’d ruin your surprise. You were in luck though because he wasn’t paying your conversation any mind.
“Oh, that’s cute!” Jennie squealed. “I only thought Ji knits. I didn’t know you knit too, Y/N.”
“I-”
“She doesn’t. She just sews a little,” Jisoo said, beating you to it. She leaned towards Jennie as if she was telling her a secret and didn’t want you to hear, but she deliberately kept eye contact with you and didn’t even lower her voice, her lips curling up. “She learned how to knit for her stupid little boyfriend. She asked me so many questions and bought so much yarn too. It was so annoying-”
You kicked Jisoo in the shin, shutting her up. She sharply sucked in her breath, hands flying to her leg, mouth agape in a silent screech.
“You’re talking too much,” you hissed, not remorseful at all even as she rubbed her shin. Jennie laughed.
“That’s really cute of you though, Y/N,” she said, smiling at you. “I like the idea. He’s gonna love it.”
“It’s just a scarf,” Jisoo mumbled, rolling her eyes, words dipping into an astonishing amount of immaturity. “It’s not that cute. I could knit you a better scarf-”
“Stop bragging. It’s different. You’ve always knit. Y/N made an effort to learn how to for Kook.”
“I’d learn how to do something new for you.”
“So do.”
“What? Like I won’t?”
You took that as your cue to exit the conversation, glancing over to Jungkook instead. He hadn’t noticed your conversation at all. In fact, he was stuffing his mouth full. Some extra sauce decorated the corner of his mouth in his haste. Without missing a beat, you wiped it off with your thumb before cleaning it on his napkin. He turned to you, eyes as big as a reindeer caught in headlights. It hit you only then as he stared at you and you stared at him, what you had done. How intimate the nature of the gesture had been. You might as well have ripped out your heart and told him to keep it. It would have been the same.
“Did… you just-”
“Oh, the wine is actually so good!” Jisoo sighed, putting down her glass, and right now you were very glad she sat next to you. “I think that’s the best wine I’ve ever had.”
Jungkook’s eyes darted between her and you. He was thinking, contemplating if he’d engage with Jisoo in a conversation, or tease you until you were just about ready to be swallowed by a hole. Maybe it was the way you wouldn’t even look in his direction and kept your gaze trained on Jisoo, or maybe because he was planning on bringing it up another time, but in the end, he decided to spare you.
“I’m happy to hear you like it,” he grinned before jabbing you in the side. You flinched, grabbing his hand before he could do it again. “See, and you said they wouldn’t taste the difference.”
“She doesn’t,” you grumbled, brows creased together.
“She’s just saying that because she knows how expensive it is,” Taehyung said, and for once you agreed. Jisoo rolled her eyes at him, mumbling something about not wanting to argue with an idiot and picking a piece of lint off of Jennie’s shoulder instead.
Jungkook shrugged. “Whatever. She likes it, so worth every penny.”
You were about to let go of his hand, feeling any kind of contact was a step too much, a step into a very wrong and dangerous direction. But Junkook interlaced his fingers with yours, holding it firm, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. For a second, you contemplated pulling away because this was too much, too close. You didn’t, not finding the strength in you to do it.
“Actually, I haven’t learned half of my mom’s cooking. She always makes this amazing pork belly stew for every Christmas. If you love this, you’ll love that,” Chaeyoung said, pulling you into their conversation that seemed to have circled back to her cooking.
“Are you gonna go back home for Christmas? Because I’ll go with you if so. That stew sounds amazing,” Yoongi said.
“Oh my God, if you are, please take me with you too because this is so good,” Jennie sighed dreamily, making Chaeyoung laugh.
“Excuse me, what about our Christmas plans?” Jisoo gasped with faux upset, and immediately Hoseok, Chaeyoung, Jimin and you exchanged glances.
Moving fast, Hoseok mouthed and you nodded. You had no idea. At the same time, it seemed to work for them.
“Oh, can’t we just drop by for dinner really quickly for some food?” Jennie tried, pursing her lips into a pout, but Jisoo just clicked her tongue and shook her head.
“Good food is all it takes, huh?”
Jennie laughed.
“Is everyone going home for Christmas?” Namjoon asked, wiping his mouth before grabbing his glass of wine, holding it up to his lips, speaking into it. “I know Kook is for sure.”
Jungkook nodded. “Got me there.”
And even without looking at him, you knew he was smiling and more than excited to go back home. He squeezed your hand, and you could tell he did so unconsciously. You squeezed back, happy for him that he was happy.
“Oh, right, I’ve been meaning to ask!” Jimin gasped, turning rather dramatically towards you. You blinked, unsure of what was about to spill from his lips.
“Is it true that you’re going back home with Kook, Y/N?”
What?
Everyone turned to you, Chaeyoung raising her brow at you because were you? You stared back at her, mouth opened and closing because no, right? You weren’t, or were you? Your eyes lifted to Jungkook, and he had that same look on his face. Neither of you knew what to say or do. This wasn’t something you had discussed. And why would you have? It’d be ridiculous to assume that you’d be going back home with Jungkook to meet his parents for Christmas.
“Uh-?”
“I’m just asking because Kook’s parents have been asking me if I knew if he’s actually gonna bring you,” Jimin continued, shrugging. And maybe you would have focused on how much you wanted to strangle him right now and needed him to shut up if your mind wasn’t reeling from the fact that Jungkook seemed to have not only told his parents about your existence but also that you would be spending Christmas with them.
What?
“Okay, yeah, no, wait,” Jungkook interjected, a clear panic in his voice, turning fully to you. “I can explain.”
You blankly stared at him, unable to even make a single sound. He dug a hand through his hair, looking even more panicked the longer you said nothing.
“So, uh, my brother saw my posts and stories online and might have told my parents… that I’m dating you. And so they’ve been really curious and asking about you a lot, and it was a little annoying, so I just told them that I might bring you around for Christmas to shut them up. But—” He held out his hand as if to get ahead of you saying anything. “—I didn’t promise them anything. I just said it to get them off my back, you know?”
You continued staring at him, unsure of how to react or what to say because well, you hadn’t thought that either of your parents were ever going to get involved in any shape or form. You hadn’t even played with the idea of telling your parents. And why would you? All of this was fake! A ruse, so Jungkook could win his stupid bet!
“It wasn’t planned, or anything, okay? I wasn’t going to tell them about you-”
“You weren’t?” Jimin blurted out, brows pinching together. He seemed to have lost all ability to read the room, just a glass or two of wine enough to dull his brain. “Ow-!”
He glared at Taehyung, rubbing his arm. It still wasn’t enough to shut him up however.
“What was that for? I’m just saying I’m a little surprised that Jungkook, the definition of a mama’s and papa’s boy, was planning on keeping his girlfriend a secret when he hasn’t shut up about Y/N for months-”
“No, wait it’s not like that,” Jungkook quickly scrambled, gesturing wildly. “It’s just that my parents, you know, can get a little much. And, I don’t know-”
His sentence didn’t find an end, and Jimin seemed to just take that as a sign to go on,
“Didn’t Narae meet-”
“Okay, how about you finish your food, huh?” Taehyung interrupted, taking Jimin’s fork and picking up a big piece of meat before shoving it into his mouth. Namjoon and Seokjin exchanged glances, cringing. Yoongi lowered his head, and Jennie slid down on her seat. Chaeyoung looked at you with big empathetic eyes and Jisoo even gave your hand a squeeze.
If there was anything genuine between you, this would have been devastating. Luckily, there wasn’t. So it couldn’t hurt. And yet, your heart felt like it was bleeding in your chest, a dagger shoved in, a dagger with Jungkook’s name. He was staring holes into you, but you couldn’t look at him, settling on the edge of the table instead. You weren’t hurt. You weren’t hurt that Narae with her perfect smile and manicured nails and beautiful hair and glossy lips got to meet his parents and you didn’t. It didn’t bother you at all! That was what you told yourself at least. Because you couldn’t possibly be hurt. Not when your relationship was transactional and just an act. And yet, to your misery, you were hurt, deeply. You hated it, how you weren’t all that unbothered as you wanted and more importantly, should be.
You were pulled out of your thoughts though when you saw the glare Hoseok was looking at Jungkook with. It dawned on you how awful all of it had to sound to your friends then. Narae, who never even was Jungkook’s official girlfriend, got to meet his parents, but you, who was officially (at least to them) his girlfriend, he not only didn’t want to introduce to them but also planned on keeping a secret?
“Oh my God, you guys!” you laughed, loud and light, like it was all so very dumb and stupid. With a big swoop, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand on the table, hoping no one saw the shake in your fingers. Everyone looked at you.
“You’re misunderstanding. We had agreed from the beginning that we should take it a little slower, and not tell everyone immediately. I knew he wasn’t going to tell his parents. I told him not to.” You put on your most convincing smile, swallowing the knot in your throat, hoping desperately it was enough. Everyone was looking at you, and you looked right back at them, at everyone except for Jungkook. Your vision almost blurred, hazy at the edges, feeling your composure threaten to slip.
“It’s nothing.”
There was a slight shake in your voice, the tiniest of a waver. You couldn’t tell if your friends noticed, their faces unreadable to you. A moment of silence stretched across the room, the food long forgotten about. In the end, it was slightly tipsy Jimin, the one who started it all, to break the awkwardness.
“Okay, well, do I text them… yes or-?”
You wondered if Jimin was this stupid, or trying to put you through hell on purpose. His question made Taehyung next to him sigh and shake his head, lips pressed together as he stared daggers into the older one.
“What?” Jimin whispered, offended. Maybe you should have taken the wine from him sooner.
You looked at Jungkook finally. He didn’t seem to have an answer at all, his eyes big and wide like a child’s. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost seemed like he wanted you to agree, say yes, of course, you’d meet his parents. You had to be imagining it. As quickly as it had come, you squashed the thought.
It was up to you. The decision was in your hands. Everyone was waiting for your answer. Jungkook would have to go with whatever you were saying, whether or not he liked it.
A lot of it was probably spite, spite that Narae met them already and you hadn’t. And how would it look if you weren’t there when Jungkook inevitably made a post about being back home with his family and you weren’t there in the pictures? What would Narae think? You could already see a backhanded Instagram story in front of your eyes, how there was trouble in paradise. It was something you wouldn’t put past her at all, seeing as she had done so before, posting just an hour after Jungkook celebrated your one month anniversary about how cringe some couples could be. Anyone doubting your relationship might just lead to Taehyung doubting your relationship and then to Jungkook losing his bet and all of this would have been for nothing. That couldn’t happen, right? You had to do something against it!
“They probably won’t stop bothering you until you tell them yes, right?”
You tried your hardest to sound casual, nonchalant, chill as some might say. This was no big deal, you told yourself.
It wasn’t what Jungkook had expected. He thought you’d give some roundabout answer that in the end summarised that you needed to keep things slow and easy. But you agreed. You were going to meet his parents. He searched for something in your features, anything to tell him how you genuinely felt about it. He was trying to read you, but it was like he had the wrong dictionary.
“If that’s alright with you-” Maybe it was to hit the nail on the head, finish it off, you couldn’t say. But the urge was strong right then, just once to say it. “—babe?”
You turned to him and looked at him almost confidently. It was both your face and the pet name, but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, now you were going to call him babe. A grin spread across his lips.
“Okay, yeah.” He held your hand firmer and tighter. “I’d be more than happy for you to meet my parents. They’d be thrilled.”
He was a great liar. It sounded oh so very genuine.
You squeezed his hand and turned to Jimin. “I guess you can text them I’m going.”
“I think that was it,” Jungkook said, handing you the last few dirty plates.
“Alright,” you hummed, moving around some of the dishes to make some more space in the dishwasher.
“Oh,” Chaeyoung exclaimed in surprise upon seeing Jungkook standing there with you, “you can head out first. I’ll help Y/N.”
She wore a smile on her lips, but you knew better.
“It’s fine. I’ll just help-”
“No, really, get out,” Chaeyoung interrupted, slipping just the slightest bit and you gave Jungkook a look, almost reaching out for his hand and giving it a squeeze. She was curt, too curt. It surprised him, clearly. “I’m the host. I’ll clean up. Join the others in the living room.”
You offered him a nod, and with that Jungkook slipped out, receiving a more genuine smile and a quiet thank you from Chaeyoung on the way out because she knew he was more than confused by her just now. Before he even had the chance to turn to ask whether or not he should close the door, she did herself. You knew to prepare yourself, putting the stack of dishes aside. She folded her arms in front of her stomach.
This was an interrogation.
In another world (read: in a detective TV show), there’d be a metal table between you and you’d be handcuffed to it. A clock would decorate the blank walls, ticking away in the background, and the air would be chilly and humid, stifling almost. Chaeyoung would dramatically slide pictures across to you, and they would be incriminating ones, blurry but clearly depicting you in the middle of whatever crime you were accused of. She would point at them and tell you how you had one chance to tell her the truth.
“How are you?”
Just the question almost made you laugh. It was heartwarming. You knew exactly what she was trying to get out of you—if it hurt you at all that Narae had met Jungkook’s parents and he had seemingly wanted to keep you a secret. You dried your hands on the kitchen towel.
“I’m fine, thanks. How are you-”
“Are you lying?”
She took this very seriously, her face not even holding a hint of a smile. Again, in another world she’d stare you down, gaze cold and unwavering, and ask if you wanted to try again.
“Do I look like I am lying?”
You were lying about all of it, about most things concerning Jungkook and you these days. But you couldn’t say that. You couldn’t admit that the entire conversation during dinner hurt you to the degree it did, to a degree you would rather not admit, that it hurt at all to begin with. Because being hurt implied you had some sort of right to be, implied Jungkook owed you… something. And that was just not true.
Chaeyoung paused, sizing you up. It was hard to figure out what conclusion she came to, her eyes narrowed and sharp. She opened her mouth, but right then, someone announced themselves with a knock on the door. Without waiting, they poked their head in, and it could realistically only be one person.
“What did she say?” Jisoo asked.
Were you air today?
“Says she’s fine,” Chaeyoung said, wrinkling her nose.
“You don’t believe her?” Jisoo slipped inside and slowly closed the door, making sure beforehand though that no one was in earshot. Chaeyoung scrutinised you for another moment before coming to her conclusion with a long sigh.
“No, I do.” She paused before looking at you. “You know I’d- we’d rip him into pieces for you, right?”
You had no doubt for a second they would. Actually, all of your friends would, but Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be the first ones to throw a punch.
“I do, and I love you guys for it,” you say, smiling genuinely because God, you did love your friends so much. “But you don’t have to because I’m fine. And like I said, we had talked about it. You know how I am. Parents aren’t my thing.”
“Well, for that you just agreed to go meet them,” Jisoo mumbled, scrunching her nose, and you swallowed. Maybe it was hearing it from someone else, or maybe it was because you were no longer sitting around the dinner table with everyone expectedly staring at you and awaiting for an explanation, but it finally hit you. What exactly you had agreed to. Once your mind wasn’t clouded with the thought of Narae, you realised that oh my God, you were meeting Jungkook’s parents.
It was funny how quickly things could change. How just a few minutes ago, you didn’t worry about it at all, only thinking of Narae and her stupid perfect grin and the fact she had met them, and now you were worried because what would they say about you? Would they like you? What if they were like Jaehwa’s parents and-
“Now, don’t make that face,” Chaeyoung interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder, noticing your spiral. “They’re gonna like you.”
“Yeah, you don’t have anything to worry about at all, Y/N,” Jisoo reassured. “If anything, they should be on their best behaviour. Because if not…”
And like the amazing friend she was, Jisoo started punching the air, showing you her swift moves that she would put on Jungkook’s parents.
“Can’t you see? They say one wrong thing, and it’d be over for them. Ji would do these weird punches and knock them right out,” Chaeyoung said. “It’s gonna be fine. Has to.”
“Also, with the way Jungkook acts with you, let’s be honest he’s head over heels for you,” Jisoo argued, putting an arm around you. “I can see him standing up for you.”
“Yeah, I hate to give a man any credit, but he would.”
“And again, if he doesn’t…” Jisoo didn’t finish her sentence, instead showing you her oh so brilliant and not wobbly but actually super fatal kick.
They both turned to you, and you slowly nodded. Maybe they were right. You didn’t necessarily think Jungkook would stand up for you, not because you didn’t believe he would but because you didn’t even let yourself go there. If you did, if you assumed he would do something like that for you, you’d be having expectations for him and you had no right to. But you knew that Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be there for you, and it was a comforting thought. That was enough. Your friends were enough. And maybe, you just liked to believe them too—that it would all somehow turn out just fine.
“Yeah, I guess,” you mumbled.
“It’s gonna be fine!” Chaeyoung repeated, squeezing your shoulder.
Before you could dwell on it any further, a knock on the kitchen door interrupted you.
“Yeah?” Jisoo said, and a moment later, Hoseok stuck his head in, offering an apologetic smile because he obviously knew what was going on in here.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Jimin asked for you, Chae,” he said, sounding unsure. He clearly hadn’t gotten a reason as to why he was supposed to call for Chaeyoung. She frowned and seemed less than willing to go, but you saw this as a great opportunity to put an end to this conversation and move on. Ignoring the fact you were going to meet Jungkook’s parents wasn’t going to solve the issue, but right now your brain felt mushy and drained. Too much of today’s focus had been on you, you couldn’t do it any longer.
“Let’s just all go,” you said. “We’ve been here for too long anyway.”
Jisoo agreed, mumbling something about how she couldn’t leave Jennie alone with all of the guys outside any longer, not in good conscience at least. She helped you put the last few plates into the dishwasher, and hooked her arm with yours as you made your way back into the living room, her head resting on your shoulder.
“Did he say what he wanted?” Chaeyoung asked Hoseok, the two walking behind you.
“Probably something stupid.”
And indeed it was.
Because the moment Jisoo and you had made it past the doorstep, Jimin jumped up and pointed at Chaeyoung and Hoseok. The two froze, all eyes on them, and when you turned to look, you found them in the same fate as Jungkook and you had been in earlier.
“Oh, Jimin,” you chuckled, shaking your head. He beamed with pride, chest out and a grin bigger than his entire face.
“We aren’t-” Chaeyoung couldn’t even finish her sentence, sputtering for words. “No! This is… stupid!”
“You have to. Otherwise, it’s bad luck,” Jungkook grinned. “That’s what you said, right, Seok?”
Hoseok looked positively ready to strangle him, but you couldn’t have been prouder of him right now. Even though Jimin was the one to orchestrate this, it felt like sweet revenge to get back at Hoseok. And really, you were helping him and Chaeyoung. Maybe today was the day finally something would happen.
“Seok and I aren’t- we aren’t-”
“It’s just a kiss!” Seokjin said, and you nodded. Because as much as you felt for them, having been in their position, you knew Chaeyoung wouldn’t have come to your rescue. She might have disapproved, but she would have definitely enjoyed the show and let it go on until you kissed.
“Just do a quick peck,” Taehyung suggested, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek to demonstrate. The older one wiped his cheek and shook his head, but there was clear amusement tugging on the corners of his mouth too. You laughed at the absurdity of it all, especially when you caught the embarrassed looks on Chaeyoung’s and Hoseok’s faces.
“Also if you hadn’t walked in together like I had predicted you obviously would, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Jimin said, and Hoseok let out a noise that could only be described as a weak and mangled attempt at faux upset. “You guys are so clearly in love with each other anyway, just kiss!”
“Oh my God,” Chaeyoung let out a scoff, but it sounded pitchy and panicked, “seriously? H-how many times do we have to tell you guys that we are just really good friends? Just like Jimin and Y/N!”
“Don’t be ridiculous here, Chae,” you laughed. “Jimin and I are just friends, but you two? Oh, please.”
“There was an attempt, huh?”
Chaeyoung glared at Jisoo, her cheeks gaining a deeper shade of red with every passing second. In a last ditch attempt, she turned to Hoseok, hoping for some backup from him.
“Tell them-”
This time when her sentence got lodged in her throat, it was for a very different reason. Because Hoseok was looking at her like he was ready to risk it all in front of everybody. Like he was ready to just say it, do something. And Chaeyoung knew, freezing to a statue.
Jisoo and you looked at each other, gasping. Her nails dug into your arm and you held onto her just as strongly. Your breath hitched in your throat as Hoseok placed a hand on Chaeyoung’s cheek, pausing and hesitating for a moment, as if he waited for her to reject him before ultimately kissing her. And instantly, she pulled him closer.
It was like a scene out of every 2000s romantic comedy, the finale of the third act, what you had all been waiting up to. It was a scene to swoon and die for.
A sense of joy you had rarely felt overtook you, a rush. You began shaking Jisoo, mouth split into a grin. As much as you had wanted and actually still wanted to strangle Jimin tonight for bringing that stupid mistletoe, you were just about ready to kiss him (platonically and only figuratively of course).
“See!” Jimin laughed, pointing at Hoseok and Chaeyoung, both of them flushed red to the tips of their ears. But they were smiling too. This had been good.
“I can’t believe that this is how you guys get together,” Jisoo laughed, Chaeyoung and Hoseok looking at each other, his arm wrapped around her middle. They laughed, shrugging.
Jimin proudly pointed at himself, beaming brighter than a Christmas tree. “All my doing.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi laughed, trying and failing to kick him in the knee. And though his attempt wasn’t successful, it earned him a thank you! from Chaeyoung. Jimin looked over to Namjoon for some kind of help, but he simply shrugged. He scoffed when he saw Seokjin squeeze Yoongi’s shoulder, mumbling something about how he was just jealous.
“I mean… neither did I,” Hoseok chuckled, seeming still completely out of it, unbelieving.
“Thought about it a lot, huh?” Taehyung asked, grinning, and for a moment, you could see Hoseok struggling to answer, decide whether or not he wanted to admit the blatant truth, confess that he’d been imagining this more times than he should have. In the end, he cared less about saving face and looking cool, and much more about who he had his arm wrapped around, finally.
“Yeah, always.”
And just like that, Chaeyoung pulled him down for another kiss. The sight warmed Jisoo’s heart because she turned to Jennie, reaching out for her. With a slight tug, she was at Jennie’s side. You laughed, shaking your head, just to catch Jungkook looking at you. For a moment, you didn’t quite know what to do even though you weren’t the one caught staring. The same couldn’t be said about Jungkook. He didn’t seem to care at all, eyes not holding an ounce of uncertainty. It was obvious that he was much more confident and comfortable with being seen by you. Something you still weren’t at this point, not entirely at least, not right in this very moment, or… actually ever.
Jungkook didn’t say anything as he stretched his hand out. You hesitated, if just for a second. Because maybe you shouldn’t. Not when your heart was beating the way it was. And yet, you did take it, did let him pull you close and hold you and press his lips to the top of your head.
“You don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to.”
He whispered it, spoke in a soft and warm voice. His words floated to your ears, and you knew. You didn’t have to do anything ever actually. Not for him at least. He expected nothing from you. You closed your eyes, and listened to his heartbeat in his chest. Strong and firm. It was the opposite of yours. Yours was a mess, thumping and skipping beats.
“I will.”
Jungkook smiled as bright as the sun, pressing another kiss to your head. You could feel the excitement rushing through his fingertips, his arm tightening around you. You didn’t know the reason for it, his excitement. It didn’t make sense why he would be, you weren’t his girlfriend after all. You refused to think about it, preferring the bliss of ignorance.
God, you loved him so much. You did. You loved Jungkook to an indescribable amount. And God, was it time to stop all of this.
The video had been playing for less than twenty seconds when the call came in, your phone lighting up beside you. You paused your laptop, his name taking up your entire phone screen. And though Jungkook and you had begun calling each other more frequently now, spending at least once a week on the phone together, you were confused when you glanced at the time. But you accepted the call, sliding your thumb over the glass. Some ruffling met your ears before finally, he came through.
“Hi.”
For some reason, there was a smile on your lips.
“What do you want?” you laughed, glancing at the time in the upper left corner of your phone. 01:24. “It’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Could say the same about you,” Jungkook argued, and you rolled your eyes, scoffing slightly, already sensing where this was going. You leaned back into your couch, looking at the ceiling with renewed interest.
“I’m not tired.”
“Neither am I.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Then neither do I.”
“Well, you had a full day of classes today, so you must be at least a little tired,” you shot back, and a beat of silence passed. For a moment, it seemed like you came out victorious.
“You know my schedule?”
The question hung in front of you, and you were glad that this was just a call. Because you could see it, his stupid face. The proud smile on his lips, the grin that adorned it. He would inch closer to you, push you to answer, and you would cave and crumble terribly.
“... no.”
And Jungkook began laughing almost immediately, his voice booming through your phone. You cringed, biting your tongue.
“I’m going to hang up.”
“No, no, no, don’t,” he said, still laughing however. “I’m sorry.”
His apology didn’t sound an ounce sincere, but you were never going to actually hang up. A comfortable silence passed, and you could have stayed on the phone forever.
“Oh, have you watched the newest video I sent you yet?”
“You mean the two hour long video essay about the phenomenal music scoring of Avatar?” you hummed, glancing over to your laptop to see the screen dark already. “Yeah, I was about to watch it when you called.”
Somehow, you could hear his smile forming on his lips. “You should watch it.”
“Yeah, I will,” you said, sighing and rolling your eyes.
There was silence for another few seconds.
“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, and you could tell he was genuinely curious. You blinked, having completely forgotten what you had been up to until he called. You looked at the ball of yarn sitting in your lap, your attempt at a scarf hanging between the two knitting needles. But you couldn’t tell him, it would ruin the surprise.
And so, you returned the question instead. “What are you doing?”
“I asked you first.”
“I asked you second.”
Jungkook sighed. “You’re very fun to talk to sometimes, you know?”
You laughed, not missing the irony in his voice. “Thanks. You are too.”
“Just tell me,” he said, and you frowned at his poor attempt to get you to talk.
“Why don’t you tell me first?”
He let out a small scoff, and you could picture his face perfectly. The way his tongue would be digging into his cheek and his eyes rolling back because God, you were frustrating sometimes! But there would be an undeniable smile on his lips. There always was.
“Alright,” Jungkook said, and you raised your brows. “I’m outside.”
You frowned. “Where are you going? At this hour?”
“Why don’t you guess?”
“Just tell me.”
He paused, hesitated. Somehow, you could hear his grin turn bigger.
“How about you look outside and see for yourself instead?”
Your heart sank in your chest, something strange taking hold of you. You moved without a thought, almost knocking over one of your pothos sitting on your window sill when you pulled the curtain aside. The glass was cool to touch, but you pressed your entire hand against it, just to feel something steady. Because right now, you felt the opposite of it, heart jumping to your throat and beating there like it was bound to fall out. Because there was no way that he was here right now! This wasn’t a cheesy romcom! But you also knew that he wouldn’t lie to you.
And he didn’t.
There he was, standing on the sidewalk, in front of your building, phone pressed to his ear, head in his neck, mouth in a grin and waving up to you.
You opened and closed your mouth several times, scoffing in the end and shaking your head.
“You’re so… stupid, Jeon.”
Jungkook laughed, “Well, that’s been established before.”
“You’re such a ridiculous stupid little man, Jeon!” you went on, pressing a hand to your forehead and squeezing your eyes closed for a moment. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, is it a crime now to drop by your girlfriend’s home when you miss her?”
The words rolled off his tongue with a certain confidence and ease. Two things you rarely ever had, even less around Jungkook. It always seemed so very fragile and dangerous, to be so open and vulnerable. You couldn’t snap back, tell him how ridiculous he was because you had just seen each other two days ago at the Christmas party. Hell, you had been spending almost every day with each other—either on the phone or in person driving to Seo’s bakery to pick up your needed batch of cookies or watching Avatar until you both could recite every line. And yet here he was, telling you that he missed you, so much so that he needed to see you in the middle of the night, at 1:42.
Right then, it became blatantly obvious to you—that Jungkook and you had crudely blown the lines you had established beforehand, agreed to contractually, into absolute smithereens, that you two had made new ones, dangerous ones, ones that resembled an actual relationship, and that, even worse, you had not only never talked about it but gotten used to the new rules, comfortable.
And even with that realisation lingering in your mind with big glaring bright red flags hissed high above and every possible alarm blaring in the air, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Jungkook that this was wrong, that he should go home. You should, it would spare your sanity. But your heart had only grown bigger and fonder of him. And it was horrible because you knew even more time with him, alone, in your own four walls, was the worst thing you could do. There would be nowhere for you to go, run off to. But you couldn’t send him home. Because really, you didn’t want to. Because it did excite you. That he was here. That he had gotten up, changed, and made his way to you. That the cold hadn’t even been enough to stop him.
“Now, open up. It’s freezing. My hands and feet are already blue,” he told you, adding a dramatic shiver to his words.
You paused, frowned, searched and didn’t see it anywhere. It clicked with you. You hadn’t heard the engine or turn signal during the entirety of your call.
“Did you- did you walk here? Why didn’t you take your car?”
“Felt like it.”
“You’re so stupid, oh my God,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you repeatedly pressed the buzzer to open the front door for him. “Never ever do that again. It’s freezing outside!”
Jungkook responded with a laugh. It echoed on the walls of your empty lobby, reverberating through the phone. “Alright, I won’t. I promise.”
“Also, shouldn’t you be writing that stupid paper about Newton or Einstein or whatever?”
“It’s not about either of them, but I still have a bit of time until the deadline,” he explained, and you heard him walk up the stairs. “Thanks for remembering though.”
You pressed your lips together. “What if I was sleeping?”
“But you aren’t.” He sounded so incredibly smug and proud. You could have punched him. “Also, I know you, cabbage. You’d rather die than go to bed at a reasonable time.”
And somehow, that admission embarrassed you. It did. Terribly. Because he did, he did know you oh so well.
You left the front door ajar for him, waiting there with your hands folded in front of you, fingers picking on each other, as you listened to his steps grow closer and louder. His hand was the first thing you saw, reaching and touching the doorknob, and then it was suddenly just all of him. In front of you. He smiled at your sight, and you knew you looked more embarrassed and unsure than ever before. You were relieved you still hadn’t changed the lightbulb that had burned through all those months ago, allowing the dark to obscure you from him, a soft shadow across your face.
Jungkook shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the hook behind the front door and revealing his maroon knit sweater and black pants to you. When he looked at you again, his gaze softened.
“Hi, cabbage.” His cheeks and nose were brutally red from the wind, but he seemed as happy as ever. “I made you something.”
You noticed the metal lunchbox in his hands only when he pushed it towards you, and when you took it, it was still warm. Like whatever he had prepared, he had packed up the minute it was done and came straight to you.
“What did you make?” you asked, and you knew he wouldn’t tell you, waiting for you to open the lunchbox instead and discover for yourself. You peeled open the lid just a little, revealing a small corner when the smell hit you. Your eyes shot to Jungkook, and he looked both sheepish and proud.
“You didn’t.”
A gasp, your features melting. He wrinkled his nose, turned his head to the side.
“I was gonna go get some from Seo’s Bakery, but they- did you know they’re on Christmas break?”
You nodded, eyes unable to take off of him, blabbering, “Yeah, of course. They always are. Every Christmas. Have always been.”
Jungkook made a gesture towards you, shrugging. “Well, so I thought- I don’t know. I’d make you some instead. You gotta fuel your addiction somehow, right?”
There was no denying how many sweet gestures Jungkook had made ever since you’d been doing this (whatever one might classify this as). The amount of flowers and cookies he’d showered you with. The amount of smiles and laughs he’d pulled from you. The amount of love he’d shown you, even if it wasn’t real.
You put the lunchbox aside, needing to return the gesture at least once. Leaning over your couch, you grabbed the half-finished scarf you’d made for him. You wanted to show him, reciprocate some of the affection and love. But in your haste, you forgot the ball of yarn the scarf was connected to.
“Oh, fuck.”
Like a roll of paper, it unfurled, and though it would be annoying to roll it all up again, you shoved the scarf into Jungkook’s face, uncaring.
“It’s not finished- or particularly well done. But- I made that… for you,” you hesitated, a lump lodged in your throat. “I also just chose a random colour- if you don’t like red, I could definitely change it, you know. It’s not even done-”
He took it from your hands, silencing you. Your brows knit together as you watched him admire the intricate and detailed rows of red yarn. And then, he wrapped it around his neck even though the scarf was still attached to the ball of yarn and the knitting needles were poking into his neck.
“Wait, no,” you laughed, already reaching to take it off. “You don’t have to wear it or anything- Like I said, it’s not even done. I still have to-”
Jungkook took hold of your hands. Your eyes met his. He smiled at you.
“You’re so cute, cabbage,” he told you, his gaze so full and soft. And you melted right then and there, your face lit up like a fire. Melted even more so when Jungkook kissed you and pressed his forehead against yours. “I love it, cabbage. Thank you so much.”
“Really?” you said it softly, delicately, anxiously.
As if it was a proper way of responding, Jungkook took your hand and placed it on his chest. You could feel it then, under your palm and fingertips, through the fabric of his sweater, his heart.
“Really.”
And you let yourself believe him a little.
You don’t know how. It was blurry to you, all of it, but somehow, his head ended up in your lap with your fingers threading through his hair and your back pressed to the side of your bed. You both shared the batch of cookies while you finished a few more rows for the scarf before ultimately calling it, putting it to the side, promising him you’d finish it as soon as possible. Instead, a bottle of supermarket wine found its way into your hands, the glasses always filled with the red liquid. Neither of you said much. And really, there simply wasn’t a need to, the minutes ticking by as the night went on and on. An intimacy lay between you, an intimacy most would never know, an intimacy that could only come from the strange nature of your relationship.
“What?” you said, almost laughing, sure you had to have misheard him.
“I’m serious. I really like it here,” Jungkook repeated. “I like your home, a lot.”
Your mouth opened and closed before you shook your head and laughed. “But why?”
To you, there wasn’t much to like about your home here. If anything there was more to dislike than like. It was too cramped, too small. The furniture was old and shabby and the lights didn’t even work properly. On bad days, it would get either unbearably freezing or hot in here. And on particularly bad days where your luck had run out, the water would run cold and the electricity cut out. There wasn’t much to love here, except for your big bed and pothos you had on your window sill.
“I feel like I get to see another side of you,” Jungkook told you, shrugging and wrinkling his nose. “You seem much more relaxed at home.”
You frowned. “Where else should I be relaxed if not at home?”
He rolled his eyes at your comment, shaking his head. “No, I just mean… you don’t seem on guard at home.”
“I’m on guard?”
There was a pause. He looked at you for a long time, eyes wandering across your entire face.
“Yeah, sometimes.” He wrinkled his forehead a little. “I think you used to be more on guard, or at least you were around me.” There was another pause, another beat, another moment of suspense. “Wouldn’t you say you’ve opened up to me more since you let me in here for the first time?”
The question stumped you. Because did everything really change then? You couldn’t say. To a certain degree, Jungkook was right. Things had drastically shifted between him and you. Before you would have never been in this position—on the floor together, in your home, his head in your lap and your hands combing through his hair as you shared cookies and wine. But before you would have talked about it, established rules and laws and all kinds of conditions, and gone through every possibility. Now though, the two of you had gotten awfully comfortable with just simply not.
“Why? Because I slept with you?” you quipped, knowing already even in your slightly tipsy state that it wasn’t that.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said, sighing. You wrinkled your nose and looked to the ceiling for a few moments, leaning your head back.
“Should I be on guard?”
“Around me?” Jungkook said, shaking his head. “No, never. I’m an honest boy.”
You laughed, even more so when you looked at him and he was grinning proudly into your face, standing by his cheesy words. “You make me want to kick you out.”
“Please don’t,” he said, offering you puppy eyes and snuggling even closer to you. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you did.”
He winced when you tugged on his hair, slightly away from you. “You’re annoying.”
Jungkook laughed, and you went back to silence for a while.
“Are you ever going to tell me what Joon and the others said to you that made you run into the bathroom the other day?”
It was probably the alcohol, all the time you had spent together, sitting there on the cold floor. Your mind wasn’t the clearest anymore, and neither was his.
“They just told me how whipped you are for me. How deeply and madly you’re in love with me,” you snorted, teasingly inching closer to his face with each word before pulling away.
He smiled a little, clearly expecting worse. “Really? They said that?”
“I know.” You took two big sips, downing more than half of what was in the glass, not wanting to lose that fuzzy feeling in your veins. “It’s funny, right?”
You snorted, knowing exactly what he was thinking—That was ridiculous!
“But true.”
Jungkook didn’t hesitate. But he said it softly. So softly in fact you looked at him to check that you hadn’t made it up. When his mouth widened into a grin, you scoffed.
“Oh, shut up.”
“It’s true. I do. I am.”
It sounded so very ironic to your ears. You shook your head and scoffed. “Is that what you told Narae too?”
Her mention from your lips surprised Jungkook, his eyes growing a little wider. You were equally as taken aback. But it was true. Because you did think about it sometimes if he did and said the same things to Narae. If everything you experienced with him had been experienced before, just with someone else, someone with a perfect smile and perfect parents.
“You don’t know me at all, Y/N,” Jungkook mumbled, and it sounded accusatory.
Your heart dropped in your chest. It felt like you were shot, the hurt instant. You looked away, teeth sinking into your tongue. But he wasn’t off. You didn’t know Jungkook very well. Why should you though? Not like he and you were anything meaningful, like you shared anything truthful. And it was so very embarrassing, so very embarrassing that you felt hurt at all.
Jungkook seemed to surprise himself with his words, seemed not to mean it like that because he was scrambling the very next second, lifting up from your lap and pleading for you to look his way.
“No, no, no, I-I don’t mean it like that,” he said, voice a little higher than usual, reaching for your hand, squeezing. There’s a desperation in his voice, a panic swinging with it that he might have just ruined a perfectly fine conversation.
“You just seem to,” he hesitated, “have this very weird and funny idea of me in your head. I-I never told Narae anything like that. You’re the first one.”
You looked at him. There was a deep crease between his brows, and he went on when you wouldn’t say anything.
“You’re the only one who’s ever made me do these weird things, you know?” He added a chuckle, but there wasn’t much humour to it at all. You tried to smile for him, feeling this conversation was taking a rather serious turn. It was in dire need of some lightness.
“I make you do weird things?” you mumbled, slightly shaking your head, looking away. “I don’t think I’m capable of that.”
“Do you really think I’d try to bake cookies for anyone else in the middle of the night? Or walk to their home at night, not knowing if they’re even actually home because I wanted to surprise them? Or send every Avatar video essay I come across? Do you really think I’d want to dress up with anyone else in a couple’s costume than you?”
You couldn’t find the right response then, your lips pressing together. It was difficult for you to say whether or not you believed him. Because you didn’t think you did, not genuinely at least, not deep down. You never really did with Jungkook, believe him. Because you never let yourself go there, not fully. In the back of your mind, you knew that this was ending, only started because of a stupid little meaningless bet, that your relationship whichever form it had morphed to had no real genuine basis.
“Do you really think I’d tell anyone else I-”
You shoved a cookie into his mouth, silencing him. Your gaze turned sideways, it was easier to speak for you then. If you looked at Jungkook, you wouldn’t be able to say anything.
“Alright, I got it, Jeon. Now, eat your cookie and shut up,” you chuckled, and your words were accompanied with a lightness, a lightness you forced out of yourself and hoped was enough to quiet Jungkook. He stared at you, eyes big, before ultimately letting out a chuckle himself when he saw you smile at him. He held onto your hand, squeezing it.
“If I wasn’t too lazy to reach for my phone, I’d take a picture of you right now,” he told you with his mouth stuffed, matching your tone, keeping it light and fun. It was amazing, how both of you simply moved on. He broke off a piece and held it to your mouth. You took it from his fingertips, letting him feed you. The sugar melted on your tongue. “Really thought you had learned your lesson, you know? That you were less judgemental now.”
“Shut up,” you mumbled, still chewing. He laughed when you rolled your eyes.
For a few minutes, neither of you said anything. It seemed like the moment had resolved as easily as it had come up. You took a few sips from your glass, filling it back up when you emptied it, and Jungkook shared the last bite of the cookie with you, holding the piece in front of your lips and allowing you to pull it from his fingertips. And when he kept his fingers in front of your mouth, you pressed a quick kiss to them. He smiled and took your hand into his again, fingers interlacing.
“You’re so weird,” you said, the corners of your eyes creasing when you smiled.
Jungkook returned it, opened his mouth to retort something clever and funny, but it was like the fire died in him, as if he simply couldn’t let the moment from before slide as easily as you both had hoped and tried for it to. He reached for it again, pulling it back on shore. His face changed, morphed into something else. You couldn’t pinpoint his exact expression, but your stomach churned. For a second, you felt this brief need to cry.
“You—” He hesitated, afraid to ask because he knew you didn’t want him to and he shouldn’t but he needed to ask. “—believe me, right?”
And somehow that question carried the entire weight of the earth because you suffocated underneath it in an instant. There seemed to be so much. It didn’t make sense, there shouldn’t be any deeper meaning behind his question. After all, he and you weren’t anything! And yet, he looked at you as if you were. When you wouldn’t respond, looked away instead, Jungkook let out a chuckle. But it sounded empty and dry, and you knew you had hurt him.
“I’m sorry.”
There was a sadness to your words, and he noticed. It was the same kind of sadness he heard colouring your words when you had told him about Jaehwa and the heartbreak that had come with him. And he knew then not to take it to heart, your inability to believe him.
“I’m sorry. I want to- It’s just-”
There was desperation, hurt, frustration. You buried your face into your hands, eyes closing. It’s just hard sometimes! I don’t really believe anyone really, you wanted to say. But you didn’t. The admission felt too much, too hard to bring over your lips, too honest. You couldn’t do it.
Jungkook didn’t say anything, and you waited for him to take all of his things and go. The front door would click shut and with that, you would have ruined it, all of it, the past few months. But it didn’t happen. You didn’t hear his steps moving away from you, or the front door opening. Instead, Jungkook cupped your face with both of his hands, a smile on his lips when you finally looked at him.
“It’s fine.”
And you wished it felt like that to you. Fine. But you hadn’t felt quite fine for a while now. Not since your heart began filling up every time you looked at him.
“Is it?”
His gaze softened, melted like the first layer of snow in the early morning hours. His thumb brushed over your cheekbones, and his touch was so very warm and comforting. You closed your eyes, and he pressed his lips to yours. It did feel fine right then when he kissed you. He held you firmly and strongly, he wasn’t going to let go. Even if you might not believe him and had your doubts. Your hands curled around his shirt, and you were the one to pull it off of him. Because you needed that right now, something simple.
“Are you sure-”
You silenced him, removing your shirt. He looked at you for another second before kissing you again. You moved up from the floor to your bed. His lips pressed to every inch of your skin, slow and delicately. Your breathing flattened, soft whimpers emerging from your throat when his hands wandered, brushed the inside of your thighs. Jungkook was everywhere, holding and gripping and squeezing and kissing. It made your chest swell, and for a second, you thought you needed a second heart. Another one to hold it all in. All the feelings brewing inside you, all of your feelings for him. It was too much to bear for your one singular heart.
He held you, stayed close. He never allowed any space between him and you, never allowed you to think he’d get up and leave. And you never let him slip away from you, not tonight, caging him in. One day he would, you were certain of it, convinced. The contract was running up with each day, but right now, he was here, closer than ever.
And in the high of it all, your breaths mixed with his, the air smelling of sweat and lust, your faces flushed and bodies sticky, there were words lying between him and you. In fact, there was so much, it felt heavy. You hoped, in vain, he would let it slide, quietly.
“Y/N, I-”
Jungkook stopped when you shook your head, pleading. You knew the ending of his sentence, he had told you it many times before. And right now, the thought of hearing it, hurt you more than it ever had before.
“I-”
But he stopped again when you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his in response, hands cupping his face. He hesitated at first before kissing you back, hoping you’d understand either way. That he wanted this. That he wanted you. You didn’t say it, but Jungkook knew not to cross that line, not right now. As if him not saying it would prevent the inevitable heartbreak you’d be going through in just a few weeks, would change anything. As if you didn’t already love him more than you could comprehend. As if loving him didn’t hurt you.
→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!
#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fanfic#bts scenarios#bts angst#bts fluff#jungkook implied smut#bts x reader
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#talking to my father is so fucking annoying#the only reason i can’t get a new phone with my own money is bc i had to ask for a student loan bc he couldn’t pay for tuition#and you’d think he’d wanna do something nice for me or get me a gift or idek#which he hasn’t done for years btw#but no he just wants to argue with me about it saying it’s so expensive and i’m not gonna use it to generate money which 😒#it’s an investment for me to make my life easier idgaf if i make money with it or not??#i’ll use my phone for whatever tf i want it’s none of his concern#anyway i can’t buy one on my own bc he isn’t paying his part of the loan so all my money’s going into that#and he was like if i was richer i still wouldn’t pay for it#which fuck you for going back on a deal actually and if he were richer i wouldn’t have had to apply for the loan so#he’s so infuriating
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𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter and you argue because he loves to spend all of his money on you.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: sorry for disappearing for a few months… again 😭 i am slowly getting back into writing so please bear with me! i saw my last fic reached over 9000 notes so that really motivated me to write something else for you guys ♡ i’m not so sure how i feel about this but i really do see peter as the type of boyfriend to blow all of his paycheck on you so i just had to write this LOL anyways i hope you all enjoy this!!
“put it on my card” you suddenly hear peter say as he pulled your earphones out, causing you to jump.
you were trying to keep yourself awake while waiting for peter to come through your window after patrolling for the night. to keep yourself occupied, you decided to listen to music and do some online shopping (which consisted of you just putting things in your cart but never actually buying anything). with your back facing your window and your earphones in, you didn’t see or hear peter come inside.
“jesus christ peter, don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“yeah yeah whatever” he says not really caring that he nearly scared the life out of you. “as i was saying before you rudely snapped at me, put your order on my card”
“i literally have over $400 worth of clothes in my cart”
“and?”
“what do you mean and? that’s expensive”
“your point?”
“that’s more than half of your paycheck”
“doesn’t matter. the whole reason why i have a job is to spoil you” he says while taking off his suit and getting comfortable in your bed.
“aww pete, you’re too sweet. but still, no. i don’t want you spending that much money on me”
he hummed an okay which led you to believe he was gonna just drop the conversation.
you were so wrong.
before you know it, he’s shooting a web at your laptop and dragging it over to him.
“NOOOO!” you scream dramatically and tackle him on your bed before he can type in his card information.
“LET ME BUY YOU CLOTHES!” he screams back while trying to push you off of him so he can grab your laptop again.
you quickly snatched your laptop from the bed and ran out of your room as fast as you could.
“GET BACK HERE!” peter shouted while chasing after you to which you just ignored and kept running away.
“you know what, you leave me no choice” he abruptly stops chasing you which causes you to stop in confusion.
suddenly, he jumped and stuck to your roof with his webs, and webbed your laptop over to him. you literally had no way of getting to him now.
“that’s no fair, you’re cheating!” you whined.
he laughed at you standing helplessly below him and finally placed your $450 order on his card.
“here you go” he smiled and jumped down from the roof, handing your laptop back over to you.
before you were about to scold him for spending so much money on you, you heard a knock at your door.
you and peter both looked at each other confused because you weren’t expecting anybody for the night. he walked to the door and opened, revealing the people you were least expecting.
the police.
“hello, we were called over here for a noise complaint. your neighbors reported screaming being heard from your apartment room and they were concerned. is everything alright?”
you did not expect to end your night by explaining to the police that you and your boyfriend were screaming over buying clothes.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker blurbs#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#peter parker smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland#tom holland fluff#peter parker#tom holland angst#peter parker imagine#peter parker fic#spiderman x reader#spiderman fluff#spiderman angst#spiderman smut#spiderman#marvel#spiderman blurbs#tom holland smut
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still obsessed with that one customer who got mad at me and told me with my actions (following company guidelines) we’d loose a customer and gain a bad review
It’s been a week and there still isn’t a bad review
Within another week his product should be finished
I am waiting sir-I was promised entertainment and I have already told all my coworkers to expect a bad review so we can laugh together, please hurry up <3
#txts#he lost smth and i went 'well you need to pay for it if you want it again'#which he complained against arguing about#warranty because material#which...it wasnt#like a screw being loose after months of him using it where idk how he treated any part even#is just???#the screw was fine the metal was fine it all was fine no bends no crooks#just a lost glass which#yeah....anyone can say that you can't even insure against that so pay up if you want it back#or better yet fucking find it and we put it back in and glue it all shut again#'i lost it' isn't getting you the glass back#at BEST i could go grab a new frame which is the least expensive part of this whole ordeal#because the glass itself wasnt at fault material wise#i mean neither was the frame but hey what do i know#i am only in charge of literally fixing and checking this shit#that thought JUST occured to me#because my base thought was#if even insurance doesnt cover it then warranty definitely doesnt#because insurance covers self done shit as well#warranty OF COURSE doesnt#i am even more amazed
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healing
billy hargrove x gn!reader
word count: 5,445
warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??
a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333
————
November 1985
“No.”
“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”
Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.
“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.
She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”
The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”
Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.
“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”
Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.
“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”
Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.
It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.
You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.
Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.
But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.
There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.
Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.
You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”
He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.
When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”
He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.
“Hey. Glad your test is over?”
That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”
You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.
“You have work today?”
Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.
Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.
“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”
You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”
The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.
“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.
The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.
“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.
“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.
“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.
Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.
Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.
“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”
“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”
Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.
Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.
He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.
You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.
He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.
When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.
Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.
He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.
“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.
He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?”
“Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.
“Besides what?”
You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.
Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.
“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.
“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.
“You know what.”
“I want you to go.”
“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”
————
The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.
Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.
She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.
Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”
You and Billy.
You and Billy Hargrove.
Sharing a room.
Sharing a bed.
Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.
“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.
“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”
That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”
You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?
Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?
“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”
He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”
He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.
“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”
You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.
“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”
You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.
“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.
You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”
Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.
“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”
You nod your head, and try to move back from him.
Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”
You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”
Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.
“Really?”
He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.
“Yeah, baby.”
Baby.
It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.
And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.
“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”
“Mhm. Thought so.”
This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.
“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.
When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.
You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.
You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.
Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.
“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.
————
Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.
“Right hand blue.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”
Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.
“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”
“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.
He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.
Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.
He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”
“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”
“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.
“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”
You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.
“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.
You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”
His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”
Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.
The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.
It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.
————
You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.
You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.
He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.
When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.
You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.
He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.
“C’mere then.”
You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”
“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”
“Billy.”
“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.
Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.
He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”
“Yeah.”
Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”
“Yes.”
He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.
Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.
He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.
“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”
You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.
“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.
“You’re sure?”
“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”
He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.
It’s just me.
“Do they hurt at all?”
Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.
“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”
You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.
He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.
“Goodnight, Billy.”
He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.
“Goodnight, baby.”
————
When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.
Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.
You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.
Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.
Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.
You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.
“Sleep okay?” she asks.
“Mhm. You?”
“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”
You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.
“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”
You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”
“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”
You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”
“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.
“Oh my god.”
“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”
“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”
“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.
“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”
Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”
He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.
“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”
————
Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.
It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.
It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.
You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.
“Whatcha doin’?”
Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.
“That sounds nice.”
“Mhm.”
“I can go back inside, if you want.”
Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.
“Okay.”
He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.
“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”
“I understand, Billy.”
You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.
“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.
“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”
He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.
Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.
When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.
He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.
“You motherfucker!”
You get him back, and he’s laughing.
Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.
You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.
“Billy!”
“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.
You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.
When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.
“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”
You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.
He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.
He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.
Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.
It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.
When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.
Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.
“I’m in love with you, you know.”
“I know,” you respond.
He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.
“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”
“Damn right you are.”
You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.
“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.
“So much for that,” Billy says.
But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
————
“I’m regretting this, Billy.”
“Stop whining.”
Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.
“Get off.”
“No.”
“Get off, please.”
“Make me.”
There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.
He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”
And you’d do it again.
“Didn’t work, did it?”
“No. Shut up and take it.”
By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.
You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.
He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.
He’s never had this before.
Hell, you’ve never had this before.
And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.
You’re healing him. You.
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
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Sebastian vettel smut with fem Reader please 🙏 Bonus points for age gap, thank you!
He was 36 you were 21. You never knew how much you liked an age gap before meeting him. He was more experienced than any guy you had ever met before, he also had a dominant side to him which you adored.
When the media found out you got shamed and criticised, you were going to break up with him before he reassured you, telling you how perfect you were and to not listen to what others said. He always knew what to say.
You had been out drinking with some of your friends, one of them had graduated and wanted to celebrate freedom which of course you added too. You had sent a text to Seb telling him you had gone out for the night and not to wait up.
You arrived home heels in your hands, you had ditched them quite early on, having realised it was your worst mistake. You were being as silent as you could be, but of course you were a bit tipsy, which ended with you knocking over a few things and even falling over a pair of shoes.
“Are you alright my love?” You heard a voice say, looking up to reveal your boyfriend, you could tell you had woke him, he looked sleepy and his hair was all over the place. “Babe I had such a good night, you could have seen the drinks we had, also some guys brought us drink and Luna even went home with one” you rambled on, including details about your friend. “I’m glad you had a good night” he replied “But let’s get you up to bed”
You dropped your shoes to the floor letting Sebastian help you up the stairs, once you got up to your shared room, he went into the bathroom to grab you a makeup wipe and help you remove your makeup. Although that wasn’t what you were focused on, you couldn’t help but noticed how hot he looked.
“Are you alright my love you’re staring?” he asked feeling your eyes on him “mh just admiring the view” you replied, dragging your hands down his body. Before you could go any further he grabbed your hands.
“You’re drunk” he said “No i’m not, i’m horny” you replied “Ok your drunk and horny”
You were barely tipsy no where close to being drunk, he knew that you knew that he was just making up excuses.
Before he could say anything else you pulled him into a kiss which got heated and soon enough you found yourself taking off his shirt feeling up his body that your craved.
“You’ve got too much clothes on” he pulled away from the kiss, within seconds you were stripping down with him helping you.
“Are you going to be a good girl and suck daddy’s cock?” he asked before taking off his boxers letting you get too work.
He was too big to fully fit in your mouth so you made it work.
You started off with long, slow licks from top to bottom, making sure to tease him a little. You started off slow, knowing soon enough he would take control. You then deepthroated him, going all the way down to his base while he hit the back of your throat making you gag. “Fuck you know how to take me princess” he spoke feeling pleasure, even though you couldn’t speak you made sure to moan to let him know you enjoyed his comment.
You were moaning like mad and giving him lustful looks, trying to look as innocent as possible.
You could tell when he was approaching his orgasm, you felt him take control with his movements. Soon enough he had cummed in your mouth. He pulled out your mouth before you could argue “I need to be in that pussy” he said flipping you round and ripping off your pants “hey those were expensive” you complained “I’ll buy you more, I’ll buy you anything in the world I just need to be inside you”
He put in just the tip first letting you get wet and to get use to his size. “You ready?” He asked with a simple yes he pushed fully into you holding his position for a couple seconds before he started moving in and out. “You feel amazing” It had been a while since you’ve had sex, you have both been so busy with your jobs and too tired when you got home, so you were enjoying the pleasure.
He made sure too go slow wanting to appreciate your body and actually not have to rush for once. “Are you close?” He asked knowing you were, your cheeks were rosy pink and eyebrows twisted. “Yes” you replied focusing on your own high. His pace quickened chasing his own high whilst trying to get you to cum. You cummed first before he closely followed, before riding out your own high.
“I love you” he said at this point he had pulled out before getting up and grabbing a wet towel to rub your thighs clean, on his travels he had always grabbed you an oversized top that smelt exactly like him. “I love you too” you replied feeling sleepy after your busy night.
——
Enjoy
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Heartless Pt.2
Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader
You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.
I heart slowburn x
You idled on where you could go for your honeymoon. At least Miguel gave you the twisted liberty of choosing where you could go, you didn't even care enough to want to go to nice places anymore. Why was he trying to drag this out with a honeymoon? Neither of you wanted it, yet Miguel always valued whatever his Consigliere had to say, you weren't going to take one of your few chances to argue with him over something so minuscule, you were saving your rage and confusion for the things that would matter in the future. Maybe somewhere warm, maybe Italy or France or something. You wondered what Mexico would be like since Miguel is half Mexican, you wondered if a part of his family were settled there too- you had to admit, you were curious if the apple fell far from the tree. You immediately dismissed this misplaced curiosity, you didn"t know Miguel well enough yet and he would probably have your head on a spike if you even mentioned it. Miguel's brother Gabriel came into the penthouse to pick up a few things and you told him that you wanted to go to Italy, Gabriel said he'd pass that along to Miguel's pilot.
It was getting dark out and Miguel said you'd fly out tonight but he still wasn't back. You hadn't seen Miguel since breakfast, you probably ruffled his feathers just by challenging him minutely. All you did today was get ready, did up your hair, splashed on some makeup, wear one of the dresses he gave you, and sat around. You were bored out of your mind, if this was what married life would be like, you would be very irritable and uncooperative indeed. You couldn't back out now, being bored was better than being dead.
You took this eventless time to wander around this penthouse, one of his capos told you he owned many but this was one of the nicer ones, it was quiet, serene. You spent this day with one of Miguel's lackeys stationed outside of the door and Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes, AKA the maid, but you actively avoided her.
It was a nice place to live in, expensive and clean, but it felt...empty, even with people in and outs mavbe it was just the lack of Miguel that was making you feel this way. Your heels clicked around and your eyes squinted towards Miguels study.
Should you...? You'd probably get a shot to the kneecap at least for meddling with Miguel's private affairs. Your fingers wandered to the handle tentatively, your curiosity outweighed your fear. It would be a stupid mistake, yes, but if Miguel wasn't going to be here now, he definitely wouldn't be around later, so you had time to snoop and pretend you weren't there.You opened the door and your eyes shot around, he was such a neat freak, but there were bits of paper strewn on his desk. His desk was dark oak, it was almost black, his desk chair was real black leather too, and the warm ambient lights offered some sort of atmosphere where he could work. You strolled softly behind his desk to look at the loose papers. The first one was marriage papers, the official documents to your betrothal, the other one was the NDA you signed and the last one was...an entire background check on you. You sifted through the paper and there were pictures of you walking around on the streets of New York, you clutched onto it, your eyes narrowing at the words you were reading on the page.
It had your bank details.
Your clothing measurements.
Your GPA.
The earnings of your parent's company.
Every ex-boyfriend you've ever had
The shops you go to.
Your favourite food.
Quite literally everything about you.
He ran a background check on you and had someone follow you around before you got engaged. You frowned at the paper. You set it down and sighed, taking a minute to consolidate what you had just read. Raking a hand through your hair, you walked around his desk and stole a glance at the walls- you couldnt believe you missed what he hung up on the walls. You inched forward to inspect the Renaissance paintings that covered the room, he even had a real Caravaggio, Lord knows how much it cost. Then you shifted towards a picture that wasn't a painting. It was of Miguel and his brother when they were about teenagers, embracing each other for the camera after a presumably long day of playing sports or something like that- but what really stunted you was that he was smiling. You don't think you've ever seen Miguel smile at all.
What you didn’t realise was that Miguel was at home, trying to find you in the penthouse.
He knew he was an hour late but he was held up by some important consultations. His brow raised when out of the corner of his eye, he found the door to his study open which was very odd- it was always left closed, he should probably invest in a lock. His fingers opened it up sottly and there he found you, snooping around his study like a second-rate degenerate criminal, but when he found you, you were gawking at the art on his walls. You were absorbed in the paintings, in a trance akin to that of a dream, he almost didn't want to disturb you, You were wearing a slinky black strapless dress that hugged you just right, it stopped just below the knee, your skin was glowing in the ambient light, the heels on your feet making you look taller, but not as tall as him. He liked that he had the choice to power over you.
He had the sentiment he always had when he looked at you: you looked nice.
“Enjoying your prying?” A low irritated voice husked behind you, you turned around and yelped in surprise, your chest heaved at the shock of seeing him right here, in a place you had no business being in. You were dead already. You winced when your eyes met his, he seemed amused and annoyed all at once as you gaped at him at the doorway. He was so….so…clean and smart but his sleeves were rolled up and a few buttons were undone, he ditched his tie as you saw it in his hand. You swallowed thickly.
“I'm fine.”You seemed to muster up, unsure of what else to say, You had to admit, you were a little afraid but you would rather die than show that. You weren't sure what was going to fall out of his mouth, probably a verbal tongue-lashing. “Caravaggio? His paintings are rather dark.” You couldn't help but comment on it, of course, he would have refined taste, not just in anything business-related but also something as cultural as art.
“Isn't that what's fascinating about it?” Miguel grumbled, hoping you wouldn't hear him. It was a bright, keen and astute observation. You pursed your lips and stayed silent whilst crossing your arms. “I don't want you in here.” He clipped coldly as he finally made his way to approach you, he stole a look towards his desk and found that a few papers had been messed with. So you know about it now.
“I don't want you having your capos stalk me.” You bit back shrewdly with challenging eyes and Miguel raised an eyebrow a little, just enough for you to notice from the corner of your eye. Touche, dick.
“I have to know how I'm working with.” He said so emotionless, so flatly. Like everything was about business, like neither of you was actual people with feelings.
“Well, I don't know who I'm working with, so you're not fighting fair.” You inched forward to him as you let out with a strained breath. Unfortunately for him, your statement made him think.
“You won't have to and you're right, I don't fight fair.”
“I told Gabriel I want to go to Italy, by the way.” You pivoted the subject around and Miguel was internally pleased that you did.
“Portofino is nice this time of year.” He commented briskly, again, reverting back as if you were mere acquaintances discussing destination spots and the fucking weather. It still left a bitter taste in his mouth.
-
You packed quickly and Miguel's driver took all your bags as you were about to head out of the front door. You weren't really paying attention as Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes was all over Miguel again, talking to him about what needed to be done the time both of you came back. You didn't know why you didn't like her, it was probably because she was so obvious about it, she was practically drooling over your husband as if you weren't here.
He was your husband. Whether you liked it or not. When she glanced over at you, you raked a tuft of hair behind your ear, your wedding ring on full display as you did so, she definitely noticed it with the way her face settled into a scowl.
It didn't take long until you were both in the back seat of Miguel's lamp-black Porsche, completely silent to the drive to the airstrip that Miguel owned. You blinked out the window, watching the bright city lights blur into colors against the dark of night, well-mannered in your straight posture and crossed legs. Miguel took a second to contemplate your presence, he almost hated how well-behaved you were. A small fraction of him wanted to see you get messy, preferably under him. He shook the defiant out of his head with a scowl, staring out of his own window in response. There was this thick tension between you, this sustaining of a non-existent friendship, trying to keep the conversation simple and polite between you and the man you barely knew anything about.
He did his research but your parents did their own- they didn't let you get involved even though you were the one they were marrying off.
It felt like forever in the car, Miguel escorted you out like a...gentleman. Watching you sway so confidently up the stairs to his private jet. He had a full view of your ass in that dress he liked, he didn't know how to feel about it so he just breathed deeply instead. Miguel followed you up, stepping into the cool, crystalized plush leather of the plane. Jesus, the amount of money he spent on this is probably uncountable, just thinking about it made your head ache. Miguel watched as you were awed at the interior, he had a slight feeling of contempt at your reaction, like you didn't think your lifestyle would change into this. He makes this kind of money every minute. He was a very wealthy man. He could afford 20 of these if he wanted to. You needed to stop being so surprised and get used to shit like this.
You thought that Miguel would probably want to sit the furthest away from you, he was distant like that but a flash of confusion covered your face when you found him sitting next to you as he did up his seatbelt.
So close.
The proximity was...different. So different.
“Good evening, Mr. O'hara.” Before you knew it a soft sensual voice in front of you pierced through your absent-minded thoughts. Oh, of course. Another insanely beautiful woman worked for him. She took out a single glass and pulled out a 100-year-old Merlot. Her perfectly tailored uniform clung to her so tightly it was like glue. Of course, he had a gorgeous flight attendant. Of course. It shouldn't bother you, but for some reason it did. “How was your night...with your friend here?” She glanced to the side at you, finally realizing that it wasn't just her and Miguel in the plane, so they couldn't exactly fuck like dogs. Her face scrunched into a condescending smile, looking you up and down. It was obvious she was defeated but she concealed it behind bright eyes. Why did every single woman who worked for him want to fuck him? It was honestly galling.
“She's my wife.” Miguel said thickly, his voice held a certain gravitas, and his tone was clipped, almost like he was annoyed. The revelation seemed to get to Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes Number 2, her face dropped and it honestly made you feel better. “And yes, we had a good night, thank you. Please get another glass for us please.” It was almost like he was politely laying into her.
“Of course, Mr O'Hara.” She smiled softly as she whisked away to get another glass.
Miguel wanted to roll his eyes. Yeah, yeah baby, keep dreaming he wanted to say. He really didn't like it when people gawked at him, especially the women who worked for him. It wasn't him who employed all these objectively beautiful women, it was Gabriel and he was extremely biased. He doesn't fuck his staff. Well, he can't because he's a married man. Married to you. A beautiful woman who he just can't figure out. Even though, he had all the info he could get about you...the way you talked to him, and the way you acted around him was confusing. You were so puzzling and he wanted to uncover the secrets that you held, how messy you could actually get behind this complacent good girl agenda.
His eyes flickered to you and it was obvious you were lost in your own little world. He looked at your lap and noticed that you weren't wearing your seatbelt, before his mind could even check it, his hands reached out for your seatbelt.
You almost jumped into your seat when you realized where his hands were, he was leaning towards you, close enough where you could fully smell his deep and rich cologne. He did your seatbelt and without hesitation, tightened it harshly with one tug, you gasped softly at the unexpected action. Woah. His hands were...big.
“Make sure you don't die a day after your wedding day.” He muttered just above a whisper. You let out a gentle cough and resumed your 'respectable' position, pretending like it didn't affect you whatsoever.
Miguel wanted you to be affected by him, maybe so he could intimidate you. But after just a short few days together and many moments of where you should be intimidated by him- you weren't. It was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He could have you affected by him in another way…maybe sexual tension would do the trick in breaking this facade you had up... He contemplated the idea but then ultimately rejected it as quickly as it came.
He can't fraternize with you.
This was merely a business transaction.
He wanted this as clean as possible.
No feelings. No fucking up.
He would never get involved. He won't do it.
He’s done too much to stop now.
-
taglist (giggles): @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann
#spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o’hara smut#miguel ohara#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel o’hara x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara
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Hobbies need to be accessible. I believe that it’s becoming more and more important for people to have physical hobbies that create real things and develop real skills--giving people a sense of accomplishment and overcoming feelings of helplessness. But so often, it seems like even beginner-level instruction is aimed at making the entry barrier as high as possible.
I was reading this book where this guy argues that people should develop areas of “micromastery” when getting into a hobby. Find one small, achievable, but still impressive task to master, so you have a cool skill to show off (and the sense of accomplishment) without having to master an entire huge area of knowledge. Instead of learning to cook, learn to create a really good omelet. Instead of learning an entire new language, learn to count to ten. And then you have a knowledge base to help you if you want to explore further. Seems very common sense. Very accessible. Learning is for everyone, not just people who want to devote tons of time to a new hobby. But even that guy, in his instructions, keeps telling people to buy the most expensive equipment to have the best possible results. There’s even a point where he says “the more expensive, the better”!
That infuriates me. I am enraged. The guy who’s trying to make learning accessible to the masses is now saying this is the realm only of the rich! It’s telling people to buy into the marketing ploy that more expensive is automatically better! It’s absurd. It’s insane. There probably is equipment that improves the outcome of the final product, but it’s not necessarily the most expensive stuff, and you certainly don’t need the expensive stuff when you’re just starting out!
Yet, tutorials and craft books keep pushing this message. If you want to start drawing, you need an expensive sketch book and seven different pencils and different weights of pen, and the right eraser. If you want to bake, you have to have the best flours and the appropriate sourdough technique. If you want to knit, you better have the expensive yarn. That’s garbage, and it makes things more difficult than they need to be.
When you’re just starting out, you’re learning if you even like the activity. Do I like spending time drawing? Do I even like the process of knitting or woodworking or building model airplanes? It’s pointless to spend tons of money on good yarn only to find that you hate the process of knitting. Pointless to get the good pencils when the process of drawing makes you want to crawl out of your skin.
If you want to try something, just try it! As simply and cheaply as possible. Want to draw? Get a free pencil and a bit of notebook paper. Want to knit? Get a pair of knitting needles from the thrift store and some dollar store yarn. As you get deeper into the hobby, you’ll probably want to upgrade your supplies--but now that you know more about the process, you know what problems can be solved by better supplies.
I was always intimidated by bookbinding--the tutorials always talked about having the right glue and the right book press--until a guy in the comments said, “I use Elmer’s Glue and my laptop.” I could manage that! That was accessible! I got some glue and some big textbooks and made a book! Not perfect, but it wouldn’t have been perfect even if I had the fancy supplies--I was just starting out! And then I figured out that a paper cutter and some kind of tool to smooth the endpapers would be useful. So I got that--as cheaply as possible. I have made books and I have enjoyed it without a huge investment in time and money. And more tutorials need to take that approach. I refuse to believe that we have to give tons of money to the crafting industry. I refuse to believe that we have to be consumers in order to become creators.
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Sunday being head of the Oak Family. What if reader is the head of other Family who is trying to act as political opposition? Acting all tough, even hostile, trying to be a strong woman and a leader.
Sunday knows solution and she can be easily fixed!
Reader simply lacks a husband and couple of kids to care for so our benevolent angel Sunday will generously provide it for her, everyone deserves to have family, even bitchy arrogant women like reader.
Thank you thank you!! The content that humiliates arrogant reader is my favorite ><!! I think Sunday will not discipline you immediately, but try to give you a chance…
TW: yandere, non-con, brainwashing, mind control, housewife kink, inappropriate traditional concepts (language about serving husband and family)
Which family are you the leader of? Alfalfa who controls economy, Bloodhound who maintains security, Iris who develops culture and entertainment, or Nightingale who is responsible for construction?
Depending on which family you belong to, your experience may be a little different… If you are the leader of Alfalfa, then it is expected that you will use finances as your leverage against Sunday's leadership, such as refusing to pass some reimbursements. Of course, those are non-essential expenses… but they are quite troublesome, because those are the activities Mr. Sunday wants to organize. If you're a Bloodhound, you can expect to show him your fangs, taunt him, and quietly frame him. If you were Iris, you might make some promotional videos of your own and use some subtle ways to disparage Sunday, knowing that all negative press is banned in Penacony. If you are Nightingale, then you will find some excuse to pause the construct, especially those designs that Mr. Sunday likes.
But no matter which family you are the leader of, you do not hide your hostility and provocation towards Sunday. You were tired of the mask of hypocrisy on his face. He hindered you from becoming the leader and representative of The Family! You repeatedly framed him with conspiracy, sneered in his face, and pushed the atmosphere in the conference room to be tense. Some members have reminded you that there should never be conflicts or disputes among family members. Well, of course you don't want to argue with Mr. Sunday, so you reply perfunctorily. The teachings of Lord Xipe are in our hearts and we just communicate.
Sunday. You feel like he's actually the one adding fuel to the fire. He always stares at you with a kind of pity, condescension, and a perfect smile, as if you are making trouble unreasonably. "Praying for you," he said. "The anger and arrogance in your heart will only serve as thorns to stab you. It is important to learn to bow your head reverently and humbly."
You want to roll your eyes. Of course you believe in Xipe, but you don't want to be in the same family as Sunday. Feeling that there is some strange and terrifying grand truth behind that flawless mask, but you don't want to understand it at all. To live in harmony with such a guy? Maybe it could happen in a few hundred years.
Again. You used some conspiracy to destroy Sunday's reputation. This time… it almost worked, just a little bit. You are not discouraged. You tilt your head in mock innocence and prepare to leave his office. But this time…it seems different. He did not say those admonishing and decent words to you. The sunlight slanted onto the colored glass, and the halo behind it almost made his whole person soft and decent.
"You know, I never like to use strong tactics. Now I know where the problem lies." There was even a faint smile on Sunday's face. "You need to show some proper respect and deference, and you're just one family away from that."
"What are you talking about again?" You frowned, but you couldn't move when you wanted to say the next word. Panic grips your heart. A burst of cheerful and moving tones enter your mind, like a sequenced program. "Come to me." This sentence seems to be singing. You don't know if it's an auditory hallucination or what.
Your body obeyed uncontrollably, and slowly walked to him and knelt down. Get away from him!! Get down on your knees. You met his gaze pitifully and weakly, putting on an expression you didn't normally have. "I'm sorry," you heard yourself apologize. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Sunday. I've been so mean to you."
What are you doing?
"I will serve you with love... my husband." Your hands rested obediently on his knees, like a puppy. You already want to slap yourself. What nonsense are you talking about? "I realize that I am too bossy all the time. Please give me a chance to make it up to you..."
You carefully unzipped his pants and stroked and rubbed his warm cock with your hands. That- what is that- so awful- why is it so hard and long, the head of the cock is standing in front of your face, standing menacingly... A thin mist surrounds your tears. Then you lowered your head submissively and tried your best to take it all in, but it was already pressed against your throat before it was even halfway through. A feeling of nausea, but you still try to do the best you can for your husband.
(The muffled gurgling sounds, the saliva and tears.)
After your wet mouth felt sore, you finally had him gently pull your hair. You wanted to scream, curse him. This thought is like roaring in the wind, but you say. "Isn't this good enough? Please…" Before you could finish, those white thick creams covered your face. "Ah…"
"No. You're doing great. " Sunday caressed your face dotingly, even though your face was now shrouded in humiliation. "We're going to have two beautiful babies. I look forward to seeing you do this every day."
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#sunday x reader#yandere honkai star rail#honkai star rail x you#yandere hsr#yandere hsr x reader#honkai x reader
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Puppy
Hardersson x Daughter!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You get a four-legged friend
After your contract with Arsenal runs out, you have a lot of options.
You could have had your pick of the WSL - United wanted you, City wanted you, Chelsea had made an expensive offer that you were more than happy to turn down. The NWSL had expressed an interest as well but America wasn't something you wanted.
It was only when you were wrapping up your last training session at Arsenal before the World Cup did you get a call from your agent.
"Barcelona," He says," They're interested. They're rivalling Chelsea in the amount of money they're willing to pay you."
You couldn't care less about the money. "Set up the meeting."
The meeting was merely a formality and soon, you were packing up your things from London, saying goodbye to Arsenal and flying to Barcelona.
Momma and Morsa come with you, helping you move in.
Morsa laments about the flight times. "It's a lot further than London," She tells you like you don't already know," Almost five hours from home."
You roll your eyes as you unpack another soft blanket. "Morsa, I'll be fine. If anything happens, I'll call Tia Tana or Alexia. I'm not completely helpless."
"Your Morsa is just having a hard time adjusting," Momma assures you," She doesn't like the fact that you're leaving properly."
You roll your eyes again. "I already left properly."
Momma cradles your face. "Try telling her that. You're always going to be her little girl."
You huff but don't argue any longer, preoccupied with placing little knick-knacks on your shelves. At the bottom of one of the boxes is your childhood pet, Rocky the rock. You look at him fondly before giving him pride of place next to your medals.
"You still have that?" Morsa laughs as she joins you.
You roll your arms. "Hey! The bond between a girl and her pet rock is indescribable. Rocky is an important part of who I am."
"You and that rock-"
"His name's Rocky!"
"-Are so cute. You used to take that everywhere with you."
You roll your eyes. "You wouldn't let me get a puppy or a kitten."
"I think a puppy or a kitten would have been too much for the three of us," Momma says," We already had our hands full with you."
You scoff. "I was an angel."
"Hmm," Morsa says, pressing a kiss to your temple," Most of the time."
She and Momma exchange a look briefly and you're instantly suspicious when you catch Momma's phone getting a notification that you instantly see her clear from her screen.
"What are you two up to?"
Both of them smile even more suspiciously as there's a knock on the door.
"This isn't finished."
"I think it is," Momma murmurs behind you as you swing open the door.
"Hola!"
"Hola, Tia Tana," You say before suddenly falling silent.
There's a wriggling puppy in her arms and you coo softly, hand out for it to lick.
It's a Spitz of some kind. You're not sure which but it's definitely a Spitz. Those are your favourite kind of dogs. It's got a kind of reddish fur that looks really pretty and he's full of little wiggly energy that's absolutely adorable.
"He's so pretty, Tia Tana," You say as she lets him loose," I didn't know you got a dog."
"I didn't."
You sit on the floor with the puppy. "He's so cute. It is a he, right?"
Tia Tana nods. "It's a boy."
"You're so cute," You say to him, letting him jump up on your lap," Yes, you are. A very handsome boy. Like a little prince."
"A prince for our princesse," Morsa says," How do you like him?"
You don't quite understand what she means so you just coo over your new friend. You wished he was Tia Tana's so you could see him more often.
"Are you puppy sitting?" You ask her," He's so sweet."
Tia Tana laughs. "In a way," She says," I'm handing him off to his owner today. He's had all of his shots. He's been neutered and everything."
"He's so cute. I'd love to have a word with your owner. You're too handsome to let go."
"That's good," Momma says," Because he's staying with you."
You look up in shock, brows furrowed. "What?"
"We'd feel better if you had some company," Morsa explains," So we got into contact with Aitana before you moved to see if she could find a puppy for you."
"He's a Finnish Spitz," Tia Tana says with a smile," His Mami was very sociable and his Papa goes on runs with his owner. I'm sure he could keep up with you."
You look between the three of them. "Really?"
"Yes," Momma says with the smallest of smiles," He's yours, princesse. Why don't you give him a name?"
"Prins," You say instantly and your mothers start laughing.
"What's funny?" Tia Tana asks.
"His name means prince," Morsa laughs," Truly, a little prince for our princesse."
Prins barks, his little tail wagging. You stroke your fingers through his fur.
"We need to go back out," You say suddenly," We have to get him food! And a bed! And toys!"
"Already done," Tia Tana says," It's all being delivered soon."
You look down at Prins. He looks up at you, curly little tail wagging happily as he nibbles at your shirt sleeve with his little baby teeth.
"This is the best gift ever!"
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#The Big Adventures Universe
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Hi 💖 would ya write momson with satoru? Please 💗
(CW: incest, bratty and spoiled 'toru, mommy kink obsly, idk is satoru a dom or a bottom in this? can't tell you but he whines and whimpers a lot. he's kinda pathetic tbh. titplay, mentions of pregnancy cuz of toru's lactation kink, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, toru getting pussydrunk, belly bulge, creampie)
thank you anon thank you SO FUCKING MUCH. i swear if satoru called me "mommy" my pussy would vibrate so hard it'd come off. ~BLOSSOM
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who makes you wonder who is the parent in the relationship. not because he's more responsible and grounded than you, god forbid. but because, god knows how, you always end up agreeing to everything he says instead of the other way around. you could say “no” a thousand times but next thing you know, one pout later, you're saying “yes”.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who loves acting like a brat only so you'd scold him. (he deffo doesn't get off to it...)
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who is the clingiest mf imaginable. he doesn't care if he's a grown ass man who towers over most people, he still walks around holding your hand when you're out and demands to go everywhere you go.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who showers you with gifts and luxury and everything you want. a vacation to some expensive beaches in a remote touristic island? he'd have the tickets the next day. a whole week at a stay-in spa? he's always wanted to go to those! you mention in passing that you need to buy a dress for an event? your whole closet is getting renewed by the end of the week.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who still calls you “mommy” and “mama” and no, don't argue him on this.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who also demands to be called all the petnames under the sun. call him by his name and he'd get pissy and bratty.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who loves hugging you while you just do stuff. his favorite is definitely wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, and complaining about his coworkers and fellow sorcerers while you cook or work.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who starts getting handsy. his hands would rub at your hips, nuzzling into your neck as he plays this off as “making sure mommy's hips are not sore”.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who presses into you from behind, trapping you between the counter and his large frame.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who whimpers like a big baby when you lightly smack his hand with a wooden spoon for squeezing your breasts. and he answers with a whiney: “but moommyyyy, so meaaan!” while sliding his hands under your top. “pleeease, 'm all stressed out from training. you never pay attention to me! just this onceee?”
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who hauls you over the counter as soon as you, expectedly, say yes, and latches his mouth to your nipple. if he can squish your breasts together and suckle on both then he'll turn into a whiny, needy mess.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who tells you he “might give himself a little brother” only so he can slurp the milk from your sweet titties again. and no, he wouldn't share!
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who's obsessed with your pretty pussy. he's so sloppy because he doesn't know if he wants to tongue you or finger you or do both of those at the same time. “mama's pussy's so sweet,” he'd say, shoving his face between your legs.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who'd get you all squirmy and whiney and overstimulate you, almost on accident, from how needy he is. and still would pout up at your barely coherent self and beg you to use your mouth on him too.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who loves the sight of his mommy's plushy lips all stretched out around his cock. “deeper, d'per please,” he'd whimper, holding the back of your head with one big slender hand while his hips buck at your rhythm.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who'd edge himself on purpose on your mouth, then beg through tears to please please please let him fuck your cunny.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who holds you open on the counter, moaning around your nipples as he pounds into you. he'd babble the most needy things, getting mad pussydrunk on his mama's slick and pulsing hole. “s-so hot, mama's pussy's suckin' me in s'good! feel it 'n 'r tummy!”
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who's obsessed with the bulge his cock makes on your pretty belly, who presses down on it with some sort of debauched fondness while rutting into your like an animal.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who's a sweaty, crying, flushed, loud, disheveled mess of a son. grinning down at his screaming, shaking mommy before diving into her mouth with a kiss.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who sobs “i love you mommy”s against your lips, slurping the drool from your tongue as his pace turns sloppy and sluggish and hard and deep.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who begs and begs and smooches you and nuzzles your cheek as he just pleads you let him cum inside.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who says, “mommy'sso g'd, can' pull out! pl'se please pl'ase d'n make me p'll out mama, please please please please!” getting louder and whinier and rougher and faster with each plea.
MAMA'S BOY!TORU who fills up your womb regardless, because he's your petty prince and you're his sweet, spoiling mama. 🩷
#tw.incest#tw incest#dd:dne#babyboy gojo#dead dove do not eat#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo smut#satoru smut#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#tw dark content#tw mommy kink#tw.mommy kink#tw. mommy kink
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Anything she wants.
A/N: HEY YALLL this took a lil long an im sorrryyyy!!! i haven’t made my rules yet so just don’t act like idiots or ill block you💋💋 this was my first time writing in a while and im a little rusty😩 tryna keep up with yall and the new trends in writing tho!! feedback is always appreciated so please don’t ever hesitate❤️💋.
WK; 1.1k
summary: your father forces you last minute to attend a meeting with him to get you out of the house and you meet a certain someone who wants to give the spoiled girl a try.
tw; nothing really, he calls you mama, he lowk a simp, flaunts his money too😒, daddy’s girl, spoiled yn, just be aware ig
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“Y/N please come down, it’s time to leave” your father yells up the stairs, and you rush to tie your heels up. Your father knew you took long to get ready so you don’t know why the hell he trying to rush you now when he only let you know of this event a few hours ago.
That was one of the things your father did that you didn’t like much and he was quick to apologize and get you a gift knowing you wanted to look your best in front of other people,he couldn’t tell his lovely daughter no. You were his pride and joy being the only girl out of 2 children. Your older brother long gone a few hours away with your lovely sister in law and your niece.(who you could argue is more spoiled than you)
So now you’re here in the blacked out car with your dad going to some random business party that you didn’t even wanna be at but at least you’ve got your card(your dads card) so you can sit and online shop while your father mingles with his partners.
You sit there scrolling on Amazon just adding things you think are cute to your cart, not even caring to look to into the details. Daddy will handle that, you think to yourself as you add a new vanity to the cart. You’re just scrolling through things when you hear someone mumbling in your ear
“You sure are a spoiled little girl aren’t you?” You look up startled to see a man that should be described as nothing BUT sexy. Tattoos adorning he lights lined body grillz and chains glistening short black hair and he was looking just SO good. But that was besides the point, why was he all up in ya phone?
“An you sure are nosey” you go back to scrolling on your phone now having had moved on to another store until you feel him sit next to you and you try to ignore him but you can feel his eyes grazing over your outfit, you’re about to speak up but he’s quick to interrupt.
“I’m Constance but you can call me Connie , and you are?” He’s not mumbling anymore and you’re pretty sure you hear a little accent but you’re not sure from what.
You look up at him from your phone and introduce yourself but that’s not enough for him, he wants to get to know you. You look pretty, smell good, and got an attitude. His favorite mix. You guys talk for a bit, mostly trying to get to know each other and flirting a bit till he asks a certain question.
“Let me take you out mama”
You actually let out a chuckle at that because there was no way In hell he wanted to fuck with you. You’re too expensive and hard to deal with, you know this for a fact because your brother makes sure to tell you every other day on the phone how you and his daughter make flies come out his wallet.
“You can’t handle me” you say smirking at him and his eyes darken and he’s quick to retort “I’m pretty sure I can handle a little girl like you.” And you scoff cause who tf he calling little?? Ain’t nun lil bout you. “Tuh show me then.” He hands you his phone and you put your number in but he looks confused and excite out and goes to show u other apps.
He goes from cash app, to a regular bank, to a bank you’ve never heard of and then still pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket. “I’m pretty sure I can handle you pretty.” And you can’t help but smile a little bit. “We’ll see Constance.” “I said you can call me connie”
“I know.” You chose to call him by his government because why not try to get under his skin? You look up to see your father coming towards you two and you sit up straight and smile “hey dad!” You start hoping and praying that he says it’s time to go home so you can plot.
“Hi baby girl, are you ready to go?” And you nod your head but go to introduce your father and Connie and they shake hands, you give Connie a side hug as you prepare to leave.
You and your father get to the car and you both slide into the back and he’s quick to start questioning you “so is he your boyfriend?” And you’re quick to say no. You only just met him an hour ago, he was NOT your boyfriend.
the rest of the ride was silent after your father basically played 21 questions. you just chill texting some of your friends and watching instagram reels til a text pops up on your phone.
you had to think for a second about that. did you want to lie and say you had plans or just tell him nothing? you take a second to decide and choose to tell the truth.
you just decide to leave him on read since your ride pulls up to your house. you and your father get out and he asks you what you want for dinner so he can order it and you tell him then quickly get upstairs.
you get to your room and open the door and are hit my a breeze. damn! you always leave that fan on to make sure you don’t get hit but it’s cold as a motherfucka in here.
you go to your closet and pick out some pijamas and go into your bathroom. you turn on the shower and wait for it to get hot and you step in.
you wash your body and just think. did you really wanna go on this date with connie? you know if you were to get hurt your father would handle the situation, so that wasn’t a worry.
you were worried about yourself, you didn’t want yourself to fall for him just cause he makes you feel nice and can give you butterflies. he could be just live everybody else.
but he might not be. it wouldn’t hurt to give him a chance and by now you already know what to look out for. so you turn off the shower and go out to your room.
you grab your shea butter and body oils, to lotion yourself and get dressed. as soon as you’re done, you decide to text connie back.
you can’t help but smirk to yourself in anticipation of what was to come tomorrow. you were gonna enjoy this
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