#I thought I would write more in the summer but my schedule ended up not being as free as I thought qwq | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

euaphoric · 1 month

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𝟎𝟏. 🥛 ✶𓏲ּ “ i want to sew all my love into you ” — [ 정국이 ]

he was comfort, security, and need, all in one. it had a name; home <3

pairing ◞⁺⊹ husband!jk x wife!reader genre ◞⁺⊹ married/domestic au, pwp, slight age difference (jk is older by 5 years)

warnings ◞⁺⊹ insane tooth-rotting fluff bc i’m in need of high dopamine levels, cute n soft smut, you’re a clingy wifey, minor mentions of anxious/sad thoughts, o/c is kinda whiny and hella attention/touch-starved, o/c just misses her bby fr, daddy kink, major impreg kink, foreplay, they get all sentimental n mushy gushy at the end agghhh, aftercare bc koo is the literal definition of the perfect husband ^_^ wc ◞⁺⊹ 4.6k

音楽 — eyes locked, hands locked by rv

i’m vv excited to be back and writing again, i missed it sm ;(( i did this poll i few days ago and this idea won but i’ve decided to write them all so this is the first of three !! (〃ﾉωﾉ)ﾟ+°

summer days grew humid, each was hotter than the last. though it isn’t your least favorite season, you prefer to spend most of your time indoors as the heat often makes you feel faint and the air can be suffocating. usually these lazy, torrid afternoons were shared with your lovely husband, either you two would be laid up on the sofa or in bed watching your favorite shows/movies but today went a little off schedule.

you were all alone in your bedroom, feeling a bit sulky as your husband wasn’t around to tend to your needs or give you any affection. it’s not jungkook’s fault though; he’s been toiled away since this morning, offering to help your parents move and rearrange some of the new furniture that arrived today. you decided to stay at your family beach house this summer for a change of scenery, you hadn’t been here since you were seventeen, let alone seen your parents in person since last year. spending some quality time together has been long overdue and you couldn’t be any happier about it.

both your parents absolutely adore jungkook, they thought he was the sweetest, kindest, most generous person they’ve ever met— which says a lot considering they’ve never been a fan of anyone you dated previously. when you introduced him to them a few years ago, they had slightly pre-judged him based off his outward appearance, assuming that he wouldn’t be the type to take relationships seriously or even want to settle down and get married someday. but not even hours later their perceptions of him changed drastically, your parents could tell that he was a genuine soul who loved you unconditionally and would do absolutely anything for you.

that very same day, your mom spoke with you privately to express her virtuous first impressions, saying how much she loves him already and this is who you should’ve been dating from the start. your parents had extremely high standards for your future partner, especially your mom— but jungkook exceeded every single one of their expectations, checking all the boxes off their list. “i can tell just by the glint in his eyes whenever he looks at you… he’s more than in love, he’s infatuated. the way he talks about you as if you’re the most wonderful thing to have ever came into his life— he’s definitely going to be the one you’ll marry.” your mom gets all teary eyed as she spoke those last few words, picturing her one and only daughter all grown up, in a beautiful wedding dress, finally getting to see you live your happily ever after.

not even a couple months after graduating from uni you got engaged to the love of your life, proudly getting your degree you worked your ass off for and becoming a soon to be wife. you had to move across the country for a job offer of a lifetime but it was worth it, jungkook was beyond supportive in any decision you made and was there with you every step of the way, holding your hand through it all.

shortly after moving, you two got married and the rest was history, it was stressful dealing with so many life changing events all within a span of such a short time but you somehow managed. had it not been for jungkook’s constant encouragement and willingness to work/talk things out, you would’ve been a complete trainwreck. he was the balance you needed to keep yourself afloat, you felt so lucky, more than blessed to have a caring, understanding man like him.

the more you daydream about him, the more you wished he was holding you right now. you’re feeling lonely, so empty, and a little sad, his absence fills your mind with restless thoughts, hoping that he’ll come to your rescue soon enough. before jungkook, you were highly independent, never needed anyone to take care of you because you did everything for yourself; he never gave up on gaining your trust and has shown time and time again how dependable he is. you’ll forever admire how much effort he’s put into getting to know you over the years, that no one’s ever came close to making you feel the way he does— so high as if you’re soaring through the sky, living in heaven on earth.

he was the main provider of the household, you didn’t have to worry about anything nor lift a finger, all you did was focus on your career. you had a worry free lifestyle, the perfect job, perfect husband, what was there to possibly complain about? most aren’t so fortunate to be in your position so you never took any of it for granted. you love him more than anything in this world, you couldn’t stand to be away from him for another minute, you miss your hubby so much :( you craved his presence near you, needing him around you physically, wanting his soothing touch to ease your mind.

you wanna feel his sunkissed skin against yours, his warmth, the way his scent clouds your senses as he trails kisses down the curve of your neck, tangling your fingers in his dark, wispy hair. you want to lay your head on his broadened chest while snuggling up into him, hearing the gentle sounds of his heartbeat, intertwining your small hands with his large ones. you desire for him to kiss you everywhere, leaving no surface of you going untouched, pinning your body down between him and the mattress, like a flower pressed into the pages of a book and all that’s written is his name over and over. so many different scenarios play in your head as a means to pass the time, but they can only keep you sane for so long.

you’ve grown desperate for him at this point, finally coming out of your room to see what he might be up to now, searching the entirety of the house. you ended up finding him downstairs in the living room with your mom right beside as verbal assistance, not only did he lift and move most of the furniture but now he’s helping to mount up the new TV without even breaking a sweat in the process. was there anything he couldn’t do? probably not, he was a man of endless talents. your dad was sent out to go grocery shopping so your husband was pretty much doing everything on his own while your mom simply watches in amusement.

she was yet again impressed by your husband’s handy work, “wow jungkook, you’re really strong!” he was indeed. now you’re getting flashbacks to when he’d manhandle you and lift your body with ease in one swift motion to switch positions. his hands needed to be all over you right this second or else you’ll simply die of attention starvation. “mom, are you gonna keep him busy all day? ‘m getting really boreddd.” you childishly whine as if you weren’t a fully grown, married adult. to be fair though, it’s been hours since you’ve seen him and as much as you wanted to give him some space to help out around the house, you still had your needs to. the need in question being him in your bed, immediately.

“why don’t you go sit by the pool or something? you’ve been cooped up in that room since this morning, get some fresh air!” your mom suggests an alternative to wait but you shook your head in an instant, “nuh uh, too hot, i’ll melt like an ice cream cone!” you’d rather stay locked inside your air conditioned room than having to deal with the searing hot sun baking you well done at 450 degrees. “i’m almost done sweetheart, promise.” jungkook quickly reassures before hammering one of the nails into the wall, the way his veins would protrude through his arms as he repeats the action made you mindlessly clench your thighs together. he could make anything look insanely hot, it was almost unfair.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

after another twenty minutes or so he was finally done and now free to go, thrilled to have him all to yourself once again. you practically yanked his arm off as you led him up the staircase but your mom had one more thing to say, “will you be helping us tonight with dinner? i’m making your favorite!” he turns for a second to answer, “uh- yes of course !” that enthusiastic, bunny-like smile of his that you’ve grown to love for so long never fails to make you melt, just so effortlessly pretty without even trying.

but now you realize that you only have a limited amount of time with him, great… you’ll have to wait even longer to have him exactly as you’ve imagined. there’s only so much pent up sexual frustration you can take, you’ve been patient for almost eight hours. that’s probably the longest you two might’ve gone without having sex— okay maybe that’s an exaggeration but you do have a very active sex life with your husband, you try to do it at least twice a day and if you’re both feeling a little friskier it can sometimes go up to 4-5 times~.

your sex drive used to be quite low, never really seeing it as a huge necessity for you— until you met jungkook, of course. there was an immediate sexual attraction that you felt towards him, you’ve never felt so drawn to anyone before, he was irresistible. you’ve had some internal issues with your performance in the bedroom, it took a lot for you to reach your peak but could never get yourself to finish (unless you did it yourself) but with jungkook? that’s a whole different ballgame. you could simply cream in your panties just from kissing those luscious lips of his, he ignites a fire in you that’ll never wither into ashes.

once the door to your room was closed, both his hands found purchase around your waist, caging you into him and pulling you in for a deep kiss, melting right into his hold. your bodies flowing with pure lust and greed for him, not even thinking twice as your hand travels down lower to palm him through his sweats. he let out a breathy chuckle from your sudden actions once he pulled away, “someone’s feelin’ kinda slutty tonight.” he teased, which you took no offense since that’s just your collective humor.

“mhmm, ‘m only the biggest slut for you. now stop neglecting your wifey and gimme all your love.” since he hasn’t been giving you much attention all day you were acting a bit whiny about it, jungkook didn’t like that word though, neglect? that just wasn’t something in his vocabulary when it came to you. “huh? don’t ever say that again, you know i’d never purposefully neglect you, ever.” he made sure to emphasize that, he knows you weren’t being serious but it does hurt a little to know you may secretly feel this way. he loves you and you can feel it without him even needing to say it, that’s how intense it is.

“it was just a joke koo… didn’t mean it like that.” you jut your lip into a tiny pout, leaning in to kiss him again but he turns away, denying you the void of what you wanted most. “a joke is supposed to be funny last time i checked.” he retorts before sneaking off to make a beeline towards the bed, confused when you don’t follow suit after him. “what’re you standing there for? get your little butt over here.” he impatiently demands, patting his lap for you to sit on top. you listen and make your way over to him, straddling his lap with both legs on either side of him as he brings you in closer. he wraps his arms around your waist again, tightly holding you in his grasp, your frame sinks right into his chest.

he locks his lips with yours, kissing you slowly, taking his sweet, sweet time; what’s the rush? you had the rest of the night at your disposal. needy hips languidly rock back and forth against his semi hard-on, the fabric of the pajamas shorts you wore were so thin you could feel his cock throbbing underneath. you audibly gasped when he brushes up against your weak spot, it feels amazing, your panties turned into a sticky puddle from the pleasure; moaning into the kiss as he inhales your sighs. you were more than hungry for him, you were ravenous— only the taste of him could quench your avid thirst. you’re already as close as you can be but you wish to be even closer, if it was impossible you’d crawl into his skin and fuse your bones together to become one, you’re so in love it sickens you.

“need you to touch me,” you whimper for more when his lips drew from yours momentarily, “please.”

jungkook loves seeing you like this, his pretty wife acting all hot and bothered just for him, but he’d lying if he said it wasn’t the same way for you too. “where baby ?” his warm breath against you leaves a shiver to your spine, his voice low and raspy. “everywhere.” you beg in desperation, “just wanna to feel you, need you so bad…” you continued to grind your core onto his clothed erection, becoming even whinier as time passes.

he smirks at that answer, knowing that he’s the only one that can have you in this way. “need you too baby,” his tone is nothing short of a whisper, lazily rutting his hips up to match the pace of your movement, “been thinkin’ about you all day, can’t wait to fuck this little pussy.” his middle and index finds your clit to rub through your pajamas, making you bite your lip so hard it’ll leave a bruise. you’re both so horny and desperate for each other like some hormonal teens, you’re about to explode from how sensitive you are, your whole body feels tingly.

“jungkook!” a familiar voice shouts from a distance, it was muffled but you know that was definitely your mom who just called for him. “come back downstairs, i think something’s wrong with the remote, it’s not working— help !” she sounded a bit overdramatic which is how she usually is most of the time. you groan in annoyance, getting even more frustrated that you had to stop, all you want is some private alone time with your husband but no, the universe said not today! you really wanna curse your mom for being a total cock block right now .. -_-

๑ ๑ ๑

“i’m gonna put a baby in you someday.” your husband casually says while rubbing your stomach, his inked skin splayed across your bare form. “in this cute little tummy right here.” he points near your belly button, planting a small kiss to it. you two were finally alone once again and this time it was for good. after jungkook helped your mom figure out what was wrong with the remote (it wasn’t broken, she just forgot to put a new set of batteries in) and ate dinner with you and your parents, the night was bound to end like this.

this isn’t the first time he’s said something like this and it surely won’t be the last, but you burst into a giggle, “quit kidding around kook.” he’s always playing around but you can count on one hand how many times he’s actually finished inside you, since you’re not on birth control for health reasons you have to be extra careful to not end up getting pregnant. there’s been a handful of times where he’s had to run to the store and get you a morning after pill which you’d just hope for the best and leave it up to the universe. you have noticed that jungkook has been more vocal about wanting children lately, so maybe he’s hinting at finally taking the next step.

“and if i told you i wasn’t?” he shifts slightly, eyes flickering up to stare into your gaze. “would you let me paint your walls ? give you a baby so i can see my stunning wife bear our children?” the thought of you carrying his child pops into his head a lot, probably on an hourly basis— he’s more than ready to start a family, but he’s still not sure where you stand 100% on the idea. there was no pressure on his side, but it’s important to make sure you’re both on the same page.

your hands snake up to his chin, cupping it firmly, ready to make the final say once and for all. “yes koo, i’ll let you do anything to me. i trust you, i trust us.” that’s all you need to withstand through any obstacle(s), trust and trust alone. if that doesn’t exist, the foundation will be sure to crumble— disintegrating into nothing. you’ve never trusted someone as much as you do jungkook, he’s the reason you even get out of bed at times, makes you want to push yourself to become a better person. real love is the refusal to never give up on one another, even through the toughest, most ugliest moments.

what you’ve come to realize is that you have all of him and everything he’s promised to provide is all yours; his heart, his last name, his vow to stay by your side forever— through sickness and health. he’s given every single aspect of himself he has to offer, the only thing left that’s missing is a tiny addition that carries both you and jungkook’s DNA. you’re more than curious to see what the outcome will be, harboring no regrets inside. jungkook’s smile grew wider, feeling faint tears rim his eyes at the thought of you putting all your trust in him. you have no idea just how much that means to him.

his head lowers back to your torso, imprinting a trail of kisses, slowly making his way down further and further. your skin feels as if it’s on fire, boiling hot like the scorching summer heat. he took an ample amount of time to worship your body, leaving wet kisses to your inner thighs, “i’ve wanted this for so long…” he hums against your flesh, insides buzzing with raw passion and desire. “want to finally do this together.” he gently nibbles, a faint bite mark appears to which he repeats on the other side. “your tits are gonna get even bigger, more plump and so full of milk,” he continues, elated with so much enthusiasm, “that pregnancy glow will make you even more gorgeous.” he wasn’t saying all of this for nothing, he truly cannot wait to experience it all, how your belly will grow each month, all the random/weird food cravings you’ll get, and gracefully handle any sudden mood swings.

you were aching for him, you couldn’t even answer back, your heads reeling with too many thoughts— the thought of him stuffing you to the brim with his cock. you were topless but wanted him to take off the rest, wanted him to fuck you until your body physically shakes and you can’t think of anything but him being buried balls deep into your sousing cunt. you had to savour every last bit of this though, etch every little detail in your brain to replay as a supercut one day; remembering the time you two made love to conceive your first child.

jungkook’s slender digits move skillfully to hook around the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down along with your drenched panties. “it’s crazy to me how this is all mine,” he pauses to admire your glistening arousal, scooping it up with his one of his fingers to have a quick taste. saccharine. “i have the prettiest, sexiest, hottest wife in the whole fucking world.” he’ll never not compliment you, even when you’re old and gray he will always remain the same. “stopp~” you toy with your bottom lip, cheeks turning rosy at his constant sweet talk. then you become a pile of mush, simply too absorbed with pleasure as he sunk one of his digits into you, thrusting in and out slowly. “fuck.. feels s’good- please don’t stop.” you beg for this to never end, bidding all concept of time to vanish in hopes of it lasting infinitely.

“we’re going to create the most beautiful family,” he coos, licking a stripe to your clit, swiping up and down as he continued pumping his fingers in your wetness, “just you and me.” he only came up for air to say those last few lines, diving right back in to drink up your deliciousness. his tongue adds light pressure to your overly sensitive bud, making you twitch and subconsciously jolt up— his free hand forcibly brings your hips back down, locking you in place so you have nowhere to go— forced to take all that he gives you. paradise. that’s what this is. you’re already close to the edge, the broken moans that escaped your lips are like a soft ballad to his ears, cursing under your breath, panting, crying out his name repeatedly.

“ah! s’close… don’t stop, don’t stop..” you plea so pathetically, voice getting shakier as you reach your climax, his face was soaked, fucking drenched. he’ll willingly drown, submerge himself into the flood of you, no other place he’d rather be than between these perfect, plush thighs. he drives you into further insanity when his pace drew more rapid, finding the ultimate sweet spot. the lethal combination of his fingers and his tongue working to give you a mind blowing orgasm, all you could do was utter feeble, plaintive cries, latching onto his fluffy hair as you ride out your sudden high that’s stampeding into you full force. your body goes inert, limbs pliant beneath his embrace. “you did so good for me angel, m’so proud of you.” jungkook briefly pecks both your thighs, giving it a little smack once he comes back up to face you again.

he quickly discards the rest of his clothes, but everything’s moving in slow motion. his movements are frantic yet it still wasn’t quick enough, he needs to feel you so badly. his manhood throbs against your folds, sliding his shaft between the puffy, saturated lips, making such delightful sounds. “quit teasin’,” you whine, not in the mood for prolonging this anymore. he doesn’t say anything, just twisting a smile in response, but he’ll give you exactly what you want. who is he to deny his wife’s orders? so he finally enters you, filling you up little by little, inch by inch; and when he’s fully settled in, your walls clench around his length immediately. “never fails to amaze me how i fuck this little pussy on the daily but you’re still so fuckin’ tight… always squeezin’ me babe.” his breath hitched towards the end, already sounding so pussydrunk from the way you suck in the entirety of him.

your legs hook around each side of his waist, keening at the way his cock drives into you, slow but sensual, moving your hips to match his rhythm. “be good for daddy and wait for me. wanna cum together.” he husks, to which you obediently nod at his request. your jaw slacks open wide from his cock hitting your walls beautifully, each stroke he gave sent you to a further state of delirium. he picks up his speed a little more, his brain empty with no thoughts but this warm, dewy pussy swallowing him up, groaning as you leave scratches along his back. jungkook’s sweet compliments never stop, they only intensify. ‘you’re all mine, and i’m all yours baby’ ‘your face looks so pretty when it’s all fucked out’ ‘love fucking this perfect little cunt’ and ‘i love you so much, my angel baby.’ it brings you to the verge, strings of shattered moans evade your senses.

your hands greedily come up the sides of his face, pulling him in for a frenzied, yet passionate kiss caging him in just in case he has second thoughts, trapping him with no choice but to cum inside. “shit— keep going like that and you’re def getting pregnant tonight.” he groans against your lips, this only made you clench around him tighter, “please daddy- wan’ your cum, put your babies in me..” you want him to paint your walls white, milk him for all he’s worth and some. his strokes get sloppier as his high approaches, squeezing your thighs as he plunges deeper. it doesn’t take much longer for him to shoot a hefty in load inside, planting every bit of his seed as the waves of your second orgasm ripples through you. you’re both heavily panting and gasping for air, when he pulls out you’re left empty again, but at least you were stuffed with his hot cum. he looks down at the mess he’s made, sodden and creamy, picking up some that’s spilled out of your cunt to push back in. “we can’t let any go to waste, right ?” “mm… yea.” you bit your lip, still shaking, electricity flowing through your veins.

he topples over in exhaustion, way too tired to move. well, at least for now— he’ll be able to go again in another hour or so. “you’re going to be such an amazing mom,” he says while snuggling up in the crook of your neck, “remember the day i asked you out? i thought you were gonna say no.” that was random… but also jungkook is known for saying the most unexpected shit at the oddest times. “what ?” you were so confused, firstly this came out of nowhere but also why would he ever think that? it was basically love at first sight with each other. “wasn’t nearly as confident back then, i used to practice in the mirror how i’d do it.” he chuckles at those old memories, in hindsight none of it was necessary because he didn’t say any of the lines he rehearsed. defeated the whole purpose.

“since the day we first met i knew you were the girl i’d spend the rest of eternity with.” his fingers trace down your spine as he spoke, you’re so overfilled with joy that you could cry. you regret absolutely nothing, the only thing you do is all the other men who came before jungkook, all those losers who were wastes of time, but that journey has led you here and this is where you’ll stay for the rest of your life. it still feels like the honeymoon stage with him, a never ending blissful rollercoaster. “i want to sew all my love into you,” his hands danced around your skin, inhaling your natural scent, you feel so soft and smooth. “thread by thread, seam by seam, i’ll tether our intricate souls together.” you hummed to his words, he’s a romantic at heart just like you, he still writes occasional love letters to you and is always doing something to bring a smile to your face— whether it be coming home with your favorite candy, buying you flowers, or taking you out on cute, fun dates. every day is like a new surprise, never knowing what you’re gonna get when it comes to your husband’s spontaneity.

you’re both a little sticky, sweaty, and smell of nothing but pure sex. jungkook ends up carrying you all the way to the bathroom, deciding to run a nice, relaxing bath for the two of you. he adds your favorite lavender bubble bath, making the water extra bubbly and soapy for you which he knows you love. when you're both in the bathtub, your backs facing him as he uses a pink loofah to clean you up, embedding gentle kisses to the nape of your neck and shoulders as he does it. he held you for what seemed like forever, just admiring each other’s company while under the water, almost falling asleep right in his arms.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

let’s make the circle

that’s inside of us.

every day it rotates like that,

color me ☆ 彡

am trying to write longer stufff, i enjoyed writing this story a lot, lmk what you think . ! ! !

to see more chaos click here (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ ♡♡♡ (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jjk smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic

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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months

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Carlos Sainz - You don’t like spicy food?! Then why the heck do they call you Chili?

Aw guys imma cryyyy – this is the last part of Besties for the Resties. I have enjoyed every single moment of writing these. Sorry if the last few ones were short, I’ve been using all of my brain power for finals and for the Christmas chapter! That one is going to be a doozy and I’m hoping it’ll hit almost 10k words: because y’all deserve some good writing!

I honestly don’t know when this story is set. I have tried to write all of these for races before the summer break. So that being said, on my master list I am not writing a chapter for the Barca Grand Prix – so this chapter will be during that time!

For one last time for this series – I hope you all enjoy!

[TAG LIST IS CLOSED]

Remember that comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are all appreciated!

The sun beat down on the top of your head as you lounged and napped in the hotel pool. The Spanish Grand Prix was right around the corner, but you had time to relax and get your tan on. The water lapped at your limbs, cooling you off as the sun felt as though it was getting hotter.

Kelly had told you time and time again to put on sunscreen so that you wouldn’t burn. You definitely did not want to drive a Formula 1 car with sunburn. At least you weren’t as fair as Max was. You thought that he was a vampire or something. His skin automatically turned pink if he was outside too long. You guessed that’s why he always wore his Red Bull Cap.

Quiet splashes sounded at the opposite end where you knew Kelly and Penelope were playing. It was nice to hear their giggles as they tossed a beach ball around. To your left, however, you could hear the men talking about the cars and whatever part made more downforce, which was close to bringing you out of your light sleep.

Apparently when booking the hotels, Red Bull and Ferrari had decided to get rooms at the same place. Which led to you, Penelope, Kelly, and Max finding Carlos and Charles already at the pool. You were glad that they were pretty good friends, because if it had been Esteban, well, you shivered at what might have happened.

You were a bit bummed that the other drivers’ hotels were much farther away. Because you would have asked Lando, Oscar, and George to come over as well. You had already asked Daniel, hoping that Alpha Tauri would have placed him with you and Max. But sadly, he had his own hotel where he was staying with Heidi. Which made sense, if your significant other was here, you’d want to stay with him too.

You tried to block out any conversations about the cars, but they were getting too loud. You sat up on your floaty as you looked around. Your eyes adjusted to the bright light after having been closed for a while.

“Good morning,” Max laughed as he looked at your discombobulated appearance.

You groaned as you sunk into the water, cooling off the rest of your body. The three of them just laughed as you swam over to the stairs. Pulling yourself up, you stepped onto the warm tile and made your way over to where they were sitting. You took the offered towel from Charles and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“How are you not burnt?” Max questioned, shocked at your skin that was void of any redness.

Your shoulders raised before dropping, “Genes? Also you woke me up. Do you have to be talking about the upgrades.” You grumbled, sunglasses hiding your closed eyes as your head tipped back.

A scoff left his lips, brows furrowed under his bucket hat. “You needed to wake up anyway. You’re going to ruin your sleep schedule.”

“More than it’s already ruined,” Charles pipped, looking at the shared laptop on the table.

You turned your head and looked at Max, “Can we order food and drinks or something?”

Max nodded, getting his phone out. You told him what you wanted, but were interrupted with a scoff from Carlos. Max turned, looking a bit annoyed.

“Everything all right mate?” Charles asked, trying to diffuse the situation. What the three of you didn’t see was Carlos looking at the menu on his phone.

His eyes widened as he realized what he had done. He quickly held up his phone. “I was scoffing at the menu. Everything seems too spicy.” Max melted back into his chair, but you were completely confused.

“You don’t like spicy food? Then why the heck do they call you Chili?” Max and Charles laughed at your question. “What? I’m just super confused.”

Carlos let out a laugh of his own. “No chica. A fan gave me a hat that had chili peppers on it. I guess it just stuck. Kind of like your name.”

You crossed your arms. “It’s my manager’s fault. He’s the one that started calling me kid in the first place. Then Christian somehow found how, then Max, then my strategist, and now everyone calls me that.”

Charles pondered for a moment before speaking, “And why is that?”

You pouted, “Cause in Formula 4 I was the shortest there, and Vito said I looked like a kindergartener who snuck into the middle schooler’s field trip.”

The three men started to laugh while you continued to pout.

“It’s really not that funny,” you pouted. “So why are we talking about upgrades? We’re supposed to be enjoying this relaxing time.” You leaned back into your chair, closing your eyes once again.

Charles started, “Well, on our cars they seem to be doing much better this year with pace, but it’s still not as fast as we’d like it to be.”

You hummed, thinking about what it could be. “It could just be the balance distribution on the corners and such.” You leaned forward again, now hunched over as you looked at the laptop. Your head jutted toward Max. “How much are we allowed to help.”

“As long as we don’t talk about specifics of the car, then we have free range, oh – thank you,” Max was replying but got cut off by a waiter with the food that was ordered.

Drinks were passed around as well as lunches. You quickly grabbed one of your tacos and bit into it. The juices ran down your mouth as you tried to wipe it away. A towel was quickly thrust in your direction. You nodded in a thanks as you swallowed and wiped your chin.

“So, does the car feel unbalanced in the corners?” you questioned to the two Ferrari drivers.

“Non, the car feels good. Our pace is just not where we want it.”

You thought for a moment, “Then it might be the breaking or the overall strategy and tires. You two just need better strategists.”

Carlos ran a hand down his face. “That is what we have been trying to tell them. But every years it’s ‘Oh, they will get better’ but then they don’t.”

You nodded at this information, before taking another bite of your food. A thought popped into your head.

“Could be the new design of your front wings,” you paused before adding, “or the gearbox.”

“The gearbox,” Max said at the same time as you did.

Charles snapped his fingers as his head turned towards his teammate. “That might be it.”

You added, “If the gears don’t shift quickly or effectively, then you’re losing time in the laps instead of gaining. Especially when you downshift.”

Carlos looked at you with amusement, “You really know your cars.”

You shrugged as you took a drink of whatever fruity thing Max ordered you. “I thought about quitting F3 at one point to become an engineer for the cars.”

Max cocked his head. “Why didn’t you though?”

You smirked, “I kept winning.” Charles choked on his drink at your bluntness. “I also didn’t have enough money to go to school for a degree. Thought it would just be easier to continue.”

Charles gave you a sad-ish smile. He knew what it was like to not have enough money to really pursue your dreams. Arthur knew that even more so. He was honestly glad that you didn’t give up or were forced to quit. Then Arthur wouldn’t have met you, he wouldn’t have met you, and so on.

You brought him out of his thoughts, “Or the problem with your car might be just that you simply aren’t fast enough to catch us.” You shot the two rival drivers a wink before taking another sip.

Max shot you a wide smile. “That might be it as well.”

Carlos and Charles rolled their eyes, but both had a smile on their face. Once your food was finished, you stood up, making your way back to the pool. This time, it was Kelly and Penelope’s turn to get some food and drinks, and maybe a nap for P.

You turned to the three before you got in. “Can someone play mermaids with me?”

“No.”

Y/n.89 has posted

they wouldn't play mermaids with me

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and maxverstappen1

liked by arthur_leclerc, kellypiquet, and 95,204 others

landonorris if I was there, I would have played mermaids smh

y/n.89 its ok -Charles ended up playing with me and P charles_leclerc yeah, after you threatened ME

y/n-lover petition for Charles to play a mermaid in Barbie 2 if they make one

y/n.89 yes charles_leclerc NO

danielricciardo max got sunburned didn't he

kellypiquet yes y/n.89 that would be correct, lobster right now carlossainz55 he hasn't leaned back against his chair in 15 minutes

maxverstappen1 why does Charles get a good picture and I don't

y/n.89 CAUSE HE PLAYED MERMAIDS charles_leclerc yeah, I played mermaids - take that verstappen maxverstappen1 I will RUN YOU OFF THE TRACK christianhorner please do not

box_box_official this is just y/n's world and we're just living in it

AND THAT'S A WRAP - I LOVE YOU ALL!! ON TO THE REGULAR SHOW

AN: This will be the last chapter until Christmas!!

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chryblossomjjk · 2 years

Text

imagine | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: model!jk x reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | established relationship, smut, fluff

⇢ WC: 7.5k

⇢ WARNINGS: literally everything don’t read this lol. dom jk, bratty sub reader, mentions of relationship issues, alcohol use, degrading, titty sucking, spanking, gentle face smacking w hand and penis, rough sex turned to luv making, fingering, blowjob, face fucking, spitting, brief pussy eating and (here’s the kicker) ass licking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (don’t u dare), creampie, snot play (kidding ew kook just wipes reader’s nose they’re in love shh), hotel bathroom sex lets goooo! jk is mean but loves reader so so much, sappy and corny at points

⇢ SUMMARY: jungkook wants nothing more than to spend your anniversary cuddled up in a fancy hotel bathroom, eating takeout and binge watching tv shows. you, on the other hand, have something more exciting in mind.

⇢ NOTES: this is my first time writing fanfic so please be gentle with me. i know the smut is not the best. i really struggled with it, definitely not a natural when it comes to writing sexi time. i kinda love every other part of this BUT the smut which sucks because it's like… 70% smut. i tried my best yall. hopefully it will get better with time! feedback is very much appreciated. i hope you enjoy it i love u bye!!

“I can’t believe she’s still with this fucking guy. He’s such a prick…” Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head a little before shoveling another bite of pad thai into his mouth.

God, he was beautiful. His skin was pink and dewy, eyes glistening as he focused on the k-drama you had been begging him to watch with you all week. Ironically, he was more into it than you were. The show playing on your laptop, which you had very cleverly propped up on the toilet in front of you, only acting as background noise for the true entertainment of the night. Him.

You felt a wave of warmth rush over you as you watched him. That sticky sweet feeling you get when you love someone. Everything felt warm, inside and out. The shimmery water surrounding you, adorn with bubbles and rose petals, was warm and floral scented. The dim light from the candles you had set up gave the hotel bathroom a warm, saturated glow. The takeout he ordered was still hot on the bamboo tray between the two of you. His fingers, wrapped around a pair of chopsticks as he ate the leftovers from your plate, were painted a fiery shade of red.

You smiled to yourself, remembering how easy it had been to manipulate him into getting a manicure with you. “I find it sooo sexy when guys paint their nails,” you had told him on a summer day last week, swirling your tongue around a popsicle before suckling on the tip, looking him dead in the eyes. The very next morning he scheduled a dual appointment at your favorite salon.

Everything felt warm and comfortable.

Feeling you watching him, Jungkook turns his attention to you. The damp ends of his blonde hair were frizzy, sticking out awkwardly around his head like a misshapen halo. He squints his doe eyes when they meet yours. There was eyeliner smudged around the outer corners, leftover from the shoot earlier in the day. He was a mess, but he never looked more angelic.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says playfully through a mouthful of noodles. It was an obnoxious habit. Disgusting when others did it, but somehow adorable when he did. “I thought you wanted to watch this.”

“I thought you didn’t, but I’ve seen you tear up at least three times and we’re only on the fourth episode. You’re far too invested, Koo.”

“I am not,” he whines, “and they added too much cilantro, it’s making my eyes water.”

You giggle and reach your foot out, softly kicking his leg underneath the water. He levels you with a faux sniffle and pout, before reaching his tattooed arm out of the bath and grabbing the bottle of red wine on the floor next to him. He had room service deliver it while you were running the bath, knowing you would complain about the price. Even after all these years together, even though he was more than financially capable of doing so, you still felt uncomfortable with him spending money on you. That never seemed to stop him though.

“Here baby, have some more wine,” he coos, pouring the crimson liquid into your glass, filling up his own, and then placing the bottle back in its spot on the ground. His eyes crinkle again as he takes you in. This time it isn’t out of annoyance. It’s one of those smiles that reaches his pupils before it trickles down the rest of his face. “You look so beautiful right now.”

Your hair is in a messy bun. You have no makeup on. You trail your gaze down to your bare breasts, nipples poking out from behind the bubbles. “You’re only saying that because my tits are out.”

He looks down at your chest and hums in agreement, not inconspicuous in the slightest...

You tut your tongue, motioning towards his torso. “I don’t know, your tits are bigger than mine these days.” It was a stretch. But not by much. He had been spending a lot more time at the gym recently, trying to grow his frame in preparation for the more provocative jobs he’s been landing.

Jungkook wasn’t going to let that slide, quickly reaching over and pinching a nipple in retaliation. The audacity. The offending hand retreats before you can swat it away.

“Ow!” You wince, jutting your bottom lip out very dramatically in an attempt to make him feel bad. He didn’t, the little brat. The faint stinging in your poor nipple was nothing compared to what your body normally endured after a night in the sheets with him. It was all welcome though. You both loved to indulge in that side of him once in a while.

He lets out one of those high pitched laughs. The one he makes after does something naughty. More of a squeal than anything else. Your favorite. So cute that you can’t bring yourself to scold him further when he spills a little wine into the bathtub.

“Don’t be a brat. Tonight is not the night.”

Hm. Touché.

As much as you would love to keep going, riling him up to the point where he couldn’t help destroy you, you decide against it… for now, atleast. You know he’s tired. This morning, his angry grumbling and fussing with the covers stirred you awake before sunrise. His photoshoot lasted longer than projected, showing up to your hotel room two hours late with a panicked look on his face. He loved his job, but it undoubtedly took a toll on him.

“I’ll be good. See?” You raise your glass, clinking it with his. “To us!”

“To us,” he agrees sternly, plump lips pulling into a grin as he nods his head with purpose. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

Just like that, it’s been four years. Four years of you. Four years with him.

You can’t help but reflect on your relationship as you sip the alcohol. It burns as it goes down your throat, but tastes so divine when it hits your tongue. Duality.

Although pure and true, your relationship with Jungkook has been far from perfect. The beginning was rocky. You had just started college and were in shambles, uncertain of what you wanted for your future. You weren’t ready for a relationship; too insecure to let him into your heart. Jungkook’s heart had always been big and accessible, however, his ego was even bigger. It came with the territory. He was just breaking into the modeling industry when you first met. He always felt like he had to prove something to the world. A bit arrogant even. These distinct differences between the two of you ignited explosive arguments, leaving you both burned and in tears.

However, even in the darkness of night there is the promise of daylight. And even when the sun sets again in the evening, it leaves behind a paradise of colors, making it known that it will come back in the morning. Underneath all the fire, was a spark. At the end of the day, despite all the bullshit, you loved each other deeply. Eventually, you learned how to manage the differences. You communicated so effectively that you had grown to love those previously unbearable qualities in one another. The relationship aged like fine wine. The flames were no longer scorching, just warm and comfortable.

Here you are, four years later. Spending your anniversary in a bathroom, with subpar takeout, because simply being together was a celebration enough.

“Well, well, well, look who's crying now. Big baby.”

You hadn’t realized you were tearing up. You say nothing.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” His tone takes a drastic turn when he notices the shift in your mood.

“Nothing, I just love you so much.”

He stares at you blankly for a moment, doe eyes larger than normal, expression unreadable. He lifted the tray out of the bath before reaching over and pausing the show playing on your laptop. Wet hand and all. You would’ve yelled at him if you weren’t so emotional.

“Come here,” he whispers. Long fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you forward until you’re positioned in his lap. Straddling him. You wrap your arms around his neck on instinct.

“I’m sorry I was late today… and I’m sorry I missed your graduation.”

You’re taken back, not really sure of what to make of his seemingly random confession. Jungkook had been invited to New York for a designer brand showcase a month prior. Easily the biggest break in his career thus far. Unfortunately, the dates overlapped with your graduation ceremony. Of course, you had been bummed out, but you would never deprive him of something that monumental. Later that night, you came home to a note on your doorstep and an apartment full of roses.

Little did you know, that very same night, Jungkook had snuck off into the bathroom during the afterparty. A picture of you in your cap and gown that your mother texted him had his vision blurry. He contemplated jumping on the next flight home. He never told you about that though.

“Koo, I understand. Your job is important to-”

“You’re important too, though. The most important.” His arms snaked their way around your waist, constricting you to his body. Face to face. Chest to chest. Nipples to nipples.

“I’m just… I’m so proud of you.” Soft, velvet, palms rub down your back, squeezing when they reach your ass. It was an innocent gesture. He was trying to reassure you. But all you could focus on was how good it felt to be touched by him.

“I love you, you know that?”

You peep a halfhearted ‘mhm’, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. The blonde really suited him. He looked so sexy. You wanted to devour him.

“I wasn’t there for you like I should’ve been in the beginning, so I really try to be there now.” The emotion behind his words was evident. Him dismissing your achievements had been a major point of contention in the early days. He’s changed a lot since then. You want to comfort him, tell him he shouldn’t feel guilty, but the way he shifts in his spot makes his pelvis rub right against your core.

The teenest tiniest moan slips past your lips.

“__, are you even listening to me?”

If you said yes, it would be a lie. His words were like the abandoned k-drama, white noise. You slide your hands to his cheeks, pressing your forehead against him, inhaling his scent. Overwhelmed by him. Maybe it was because you haven’t had sex in over a week, which was almost unheard of in your relationship. Maybe it was because you’ve never felt more loved and validated by anyone like you did him. Whatever it was, it was turning you on. Fast.

“I am baby, I just want-”

“You want what?”

“I want you.”

“Me?” His warm breath fans across your face. When he speaks, it comes out low, deep, and methodical. He licks his lips, making them glowly and pink. The tip of his tongue dragging against your own. His red nails now digging into your skin. Pupils morphing into a deep black. Pure lust. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

You feel a hard smack against your ass, water splashing over the edge of the tub upon impact. You wince, knowing that tomorrow you will have a Jungkook-shaped sore spot on your bottom. You’re in for it now. The anticipation leaves you dripping.

“I told you, not tonight,” Jungkook growls, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. “Why don’t you ever listen, huh?”

Another spank. This time even harder. It makes you grip onto his hair, knuckles paling.

“Why can’t you be good? It’s our anniversary. I wanted to be sweet with you.” He sinks his teeth into your neck, biting down and then sucking. He spanks you again, making you hold onto the edge of the tub to stop yourself from jerking forward. “Now I have to punish you.”

“I like you like this though.” You can’t help the neediness and desperation that’s laced through your voice.

“Of course you do,” he chuckles, sinfully licking over the mark he created. “You’re so dumb. Such a slut. I can’t even talk to you without you getting horny.”

“That’s not true,” you whimper.

“It’s not? Then why are you so wet?” He spreads your cheeks with both hands, middle and ring finger rubbing between your folds, collecting your wetness. He takes a few seconds to barely circle your clit. His touch is light and feathery, teasing. Fuck him and his big hands. He brings them up to your lips, tapping. “Open.”

“But they’re all soapy…”

He hums, knowing you want to be good. He’s willing to compromise. He softly smacks your cheek with an open palm, gripping your chin and moving your head side to side. “What should I do with you then? Hm?”

“I want your fingers,” you say softly, voice coming out muffled from him squeezing your cheeks together.

“Where?”

“Inside of me.”

“Where though?”

You huff and wrap your hand around his wrist and pull him off. Your fingers don’t even touch, tiny in comparison. This was what you wanted, practically begged for. However, it still drove you nuts whenever he made you wait, wanting you to articulate every little detail, get you soaked before he even touched you. “I want them in my pussy… your pussy.” You whimper, guiding his hand down to where you wanted him most. Pressing down, you move his fingers against your clit in tight circles. You moan at the contact. “There.”

He takes the hint, rubbing you just the way you like. Slow and sensual. You can’t help the obscene noise ripping through you.

Jungkook’s fingers dip further down, playing with your entrance, getting them nice and wet, before sneaking in. Moaning loudly, you roll your head back. He always filled you up so good. You can’t help but clench around his fingers, afraid he’ll pull back and leave you stranded.

He curls them, knowing exactly how to touch to have you pooling into his palm. It feels like heaven. Just when you think the gates are opening, his fingers come to a halt.

You shoot him an exasperated look.

“Get yourself off. I know you know how, slut.” Your eyebrows slant and you clench your jaw. He’s a demon. He flashes a crooked bunny smile your way, finding your angry face very adorable. Not intimidating in the slightest. “Go on.”

You place your hands on the sides of the tub, using it as leverage to lift your entire body up. You were going to cum, even if it meant he made you do all the work. Sinking back down, you start fucking yourself on his fingers. Snapping your hips up, before going all the way down to his tattooed knuckles. Your knees digging into the porcelain as you form a steady pace. You know they’re going to hurt afterwards, but it felt too fucking good to stop.

“I told you the manicure was worth it,” you mumble, somehow finding the strength to sass him. It was all part of the game. He loved the fight for dominance, even though you both knew it was something you relinquished willingly.

If asked what his favorite thing about you was, Jungkook would say your witt. He loved when you smart-mouthed him, put him in his place. You could feel his cock plumping at your words, rubbing between your cheeks with every rut of your hips.

“Shut up.” He scoots himself further down until he’s leveled with your bouncing chest, careful not to disrupt your movements. He teases your nipple with the tip of his tongue before catching it into his mouth.

“Fuck, I love it,” you whisper, transitioning to a grind. One of your hands cups the back of his head, holding him close. Your hips rotate, mirroring the swirling of his tongue. Your clit was rubbing against the plush skin of his palm.

The rosy pink bath water ripples, overflowing and splashing. You didn’t care about the mess on the bathroom floor, not when the mess between your thighs was more important.

He moans against you, sending a vibration through your sensitive, overworked, nipple. He takes the hardened bud between his teeth, tugging gently and then moving onto the other.

He starts curling his clean cut fingers with every drag of your leaking cunt, stroking your g-spot expertly, giving you more stimulation. Overstimulating you. “Please, Koo…”

“Already?”

You nod frantically. All the years spent above you, behind you, and below you made him well aware of your signs. He knew you were close. “I want you to cum. Fuck, you’re so wet,” he sighs, just as desperate as you, turned on by your pleasure. Lips still wrapped around your nipple. It makes your clit throb.

He abruptly starts thrusting his fingers into you. Your hips still as you lean your entire weight on him, bracing yourself as you reach the point of no return. He makes you cry for the second time when your orgasm hits, leaving you gasping into his ear. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably. His fingers slow, curling deliciously until he milks out every bit of your orgasm.

You turn onto your side and bury your head into his shoulder as you come down from your high. He leans his cheek against your forehead, rubbing small circles against your lower back. Completely ignoring the flushed, angry cock resting against his lower stomach. Your sweet boy. So sweet that you just couldn’t get enough.

His rough persona was already starting to fade. Not on your watch.

You look down, eyeing his pretty pink tip through the bubbles. Pinker than the water. He has the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. It makes you salivate.

You trail your manicured nails down his chest, circling his nipple, running over his solid abdomen, and down to his cock. You rub your index finger against the slit and then stroke his head with your fingertip. “I know you’re tired but… I want more. Wanna lick it.”

He huffs out a laugh and then pecks on the top of your head. He wonders how you could be so cute, yet so naughty and dirty? You feel a tap against your ass, signaling for you to get off of him.

You wide-eye him when he stands. Droplets of water were running down his body. One gets caught in the dip of his v-line, trickling until it becomes lost in the dark patch of trimmed hair above his shaft. His thick, toned legs flexing as he steps out of the tub. You’re convinced that no matter how much time passes, you’ll still find him breathtaking.

He mumbles a little ‘be careful’ when he helps you up, watching your feet to make sure they don’t slip. Always looking out for you in small ways. It was a subconscious trait he developed as he grew to love you more than anything or anyone. He tugs you close, looking at you with so much love in his eyes. You crane your neck up, pressing your lips against his. Nothing crazy or sloppy, just a kiss. Kissing Jungkook felt like it always did, warm and comfortable.

“Alright, knees. Now.”

Asshole.

Interrupting your thoughts, yet again. You frown and look at the tile. The wet tile might you add. “But my knees-”

He grabs your hair, wrapping it around his fist and using it to force you down to your knees. The floor feels gross and cold against your shins.

“You do what I tell you, got it?” From your angle, he looks menacing. He’s peering down at you over that big nose, chest puffed out and red from exertion. The veins in his arm popping out under his inked skin as he held you with an iron grip. You have half a mind to cancel his gym membership.

His big, leaking, cock is standing right in front of you. It was almost intimidating.

You answer him with the most miniscule nod.

“Use your words.”

“I’ll listen.”

“Look at me when you talk to me.” He doesn't even give you the chance to react, yanking your hair until your face is tilted upwards.

“I’ll listen,” you peep.

“I go away for a week and you forget everything I taught you? Do I have to train you all over again?” He questions, mocking you.

“Yes, please. I don’t seem to remember,” you challenge, blinking up at him innocently, but so deviously.

“Open,” he commands. You listen, opening wide and sticking your tongue out. He bends at the waist, letting a glob of spit fall from his puckered lips and into your mouth. You swallow immediately, knowing what to do. Obviously well informed of the rules despite your protests.

“Good girl.” Releasing your hair, he brings his fingers to your lips, recalling your refusal to put them in your mouth earlier. “Again.”

He’s just as devious as you are.

You flick your hair over your shoulders dramatically, hoping he’ll pick up on your annoyance. Squinting in defiance, you take his middle and index finger in your mouth, going all the way down to his knuckles, biting a little. You slide your tongue between them, letting them hit the back of your throat before pulling away. They do taste a bit soapy, but you suppose a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

He shoves them back in before you move away entirely, making you choke. “I don’t think you’re ready for me. Gotta stretch you out first, don’t I baby?” He scissors his fingers, testing your gag reflex. Taunting you. You inhale and pinch your eyes shut, wanting to prove him wrong. You even bob your head a little, taking them in deeper. He lets out a shaky breath, clearly affected by your actions, exiting your drooling mouth.

Nimble fingers wrap around his cock, using your spit to slick himself up. He squeezes right under the crown. Both of you watch in awe as a drop of precum oozes out. He shuffles closer to you, jaw going slack as he peers down at you. It looks like he’s contemplating something. Whatever it was, he better get going because if you have to wait even lo-

You gasp as his cock swings into your cheek with a loud thud. The heaviness makes you flinch. He pauses, expecting you to reprimand him. He did just smack you with his dick. To his surprise, you don’t say anything. In fact, you appear to be even more turned on than before, fluttering your lashes at him. Asking for more.

He makes a content noise, continuing to tap the tip against your face, watching as a sticky string of precum forms. “God, you’re so whipped baby. Why do you let me treat you like this?”

It was a rhetorical question, but you answer anyway. “Because I love you.”

“You love me?” He smiles, rigid expression softening for a second, pleased with your answer. “You love my dick. It’s all you think about. I bet when I was away you all you did was sit in bed with a wet pussy. Waiting for me to come home and fuck you.”

You can’t help but wonder if that was a freudian slip. If he was still beating himself up for missing out on your graduation, mentioning it with no context or explanation. It makes your heart hurt, but that was a conversation for tomorrow morning. Tonight, you were going to do whatever you could to distract him.

Wetness touches your bottom lip. He rubs the head of his penis against you, smearing precum on your lips. He coos, mocking your compliance and submission. Sexually humiliating you is one of his favorite activities. You let him, even puckering your lips to sneak in a few kisses here and there. The light touches make him groan. “You gonna let me fuck that mouth, sweetheart?”

“Hm... I dunno.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

No answer.

“Are you going to put it in your mouth or what?” He scoffs, gnawing on his bottom lip. His right brow twitches. His forehead pulls in a bit. The irritated flicks in features already visible.

You shrug nonchalantly. Internally, you were jumping for joy. He’s so fucking easy to manipulate. Right in the palm of your hand like putty, moldable into any shape you want. Any version of him you desire.

His cock is angry too. Flushed and dripping. Needing to be touched. Craving you. Your mouth. Your pussy.

It jumps when you wrap your hand around it. So touch starved. Your pace is devastatingly lethargic, grip loose, not firm the way you know he loves and wants. His foreskin moves with you, rolling back and forth over his begging tip. So needy and wet. You wondered if the people next door could hear the nasty gushy noises his cock made as you jerked it.

You lean forward and lap at his slit. Airy kitten licks that provide barely any sensation to his greedy cock. One after the other. You feel his stare burning into your skin. He’s watching you, nostrils flaring as he grows impatient and agitated. You arch your back, giving him a clear view of your perky ass, before you start shaking and bouncing it. Teasing him.

“Enough, __!” He seethes, fisting your hair and bucking his hips with so much vigor that he stumbles forward. His cock shoves past your lips and down your throat. He catches himself by slamming a hand against the wall-mounted mirror in front of him, leaving a small crack in the middle. The neighbors definitely heard that one, but you were too far gone to care.

The jolt sends you falling back on your butt, landing on the fluffy area rug in front of the sink. Atleast you were comfortable now. You always win one way or another.

Your legs are now laying flat between his, knees knocked together. Trapped between Jungkook and the sleek black wood of the integrated sink behind you. You're pressed against his pelvis, the soft hairs at the base of his cock tickling your nostrils.

Initially, you gag around him. Spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin after a few dauntingly long seconds. Your chest heaves as you struggle to adjust to the sudden intrusion. There’s a natural urge to push him away. Your matching red nails digging into his thighs as you try to shove him off of you.

“You’re okay.” He doesn’t let up. Feet firmly planted on either side of you. “Breathe. You can take it.”

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you inhale and exhale through your nose, regaining your composure. Determined to be good for him.

When he touches you, it’s delicate and gentle, pushing your damp hair back. Fingers working their way through a few tangles. He cups your cheek, brushing away your stray tears. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, okay?”

You nod, making the tip of his cock rub against the back of your throat. Your mouth is warm and moist, like a sauna that’s sole purpose was to make him nut. The sensation makes him grunt. He brings his opposite hand down, holding your head still before taking a shallow thrust. Only giving you half of his length and then pulling back. Testing the waters.

Glancing up at him with watery eyes, you meet him halfway, hollowing your cheeks. Your throat feels raw but his cock tastes phenomenal. Clean and sugary. Not a day goes by where you don’t thank the stars for blessing you with a man who eats fairly healthy and follows a strict hygiene regimen.

Your nose is running a little. Jungkook notices before you do. His shoulders rise up with laughter, wiping it away with his big thumb. “So gross, baby. So cute.” It was gross, but you weren’t embarrassed, not with him.

Your jaw goes slack as you accept more of his cock, relaxing into the feeling. He picks up the pace, basking in view of his glossy cock dragging against your lips. You’re a vision. So beautiful to him. The disgusting wet noises your throat makes when he pulls away are deafening. He loves the way you gag when he pushes back in.

Jungkook has always been a bit quiet during sex, minus the dirty talk, of course. Never one to make obnoxious, pornographic sounds. He left that to you. You didn’t mind though. You can’t help but hum around him, loud and vulgar, when you hear his low grunts, knowing you’ve earned them.

Your hands rub at his smooth, hairless thighs, feeling the muscles underneath clench and unclench, pulling his skin taut. He made the impromptu decision to get them waxed while his nails were drying under the UV light. ‘For shoots and stuff… It’s in nowadays’ he had snapped at you when you questioned his choice. Your palms make their way behind him, gripping his ass and pulling, wanting more of his cock.

“Mhm, it’s yours, baby. Take it.” He licks his lips and nods, looking at you with hooded lustful eyes, flicking his hair away so he can watch. “Tight little mouth…”

His voice sounded fucked out, so turned on. His head rolls off to the side like he doesn’t have the strength to support it anymore. All of the energy being sucked out of him, literally and figuratively.

His hand cups the back of your head, thrusting every inch of his cock into your mouth. Holding you in place. His nose scrunches up and his brows knit together, cute dimple poking out as he bites the inside of his cheek. You hum, swaying your head from side to side.

“Stop, m’ gonna cum,” he groans, attempting to pull you off. You’re persistent though, clinging onto him, keeping him snug inside of you.

“Ah, no- stop,” he whimpers in a high pitched voice you’ve never heard before. It was so desperate it made you clench around nothing. You feel him twitch in your mouth, hips jerking away like the pleasure is too much. He’s so deep that he can feel your tongue flat against his balls, licking and drooling down them.

You pull off with a pop when you decide he’s had enough.

“Fuck you,” he says through a laugh. He reaches his hands up, running them over his face to calm himself down. “You were going to make me cum before we even fucked.”

There’s a translucent strand of spit connecting his penis to your mouth. You swallow, wiping your chin with the back of your hand. A fit of coughs erupt through your chest. Booming and rough, before fading into a string of mischievous giggles. You feel delirious and light headed. He mumbles something about how well you took him, about how you were so good. You don’t really know. You can’t really focus at the moment.

You press your cheek against Jungkook’s leg, beaming up at him. So infatuated with him. So in love. High off endorphins and serotonin.

“Stop laughing!” He shouts playfully, guiding you to your feet and pressing you against the marble countertop. He kisses your cheek before burrowing his head into your shoulder. “You’re fucking bonkers, babe.”

“Me? You fully broke the mirror!”

“Huh?”

You twist in his arms, giggling madly as you crane your neck awkwardly to look at the mirror behind you. “It’s right…,” you look around, trying to scope out the crack, pressing your fingertip to it when you find it, “here!” There’s already tiny fragments missing, exposing the wooden frame underneath. You leave a smudge on the dewy glass when you pull away.

He deadpans you, jaw dropping open like he’s just received tragic and unexpected news. The modeling definitely upped his acting capabilities, making him animated and theatrical over the most mundane things. You guess it’s somewhat justified in this situation.

Black irises flicker to you, then the mirror, then back to you. His hand clamps over his open mouth. “What the fuck, __?”

“Don’t blame me! You were the one that broke it.” You shout back, very amused by his reaction.

“Yeah, but you should’ve at least said something,” he states like it’s the most obvious and certain thing in the world. His arms are outstretched, palms facing you, looking at you like you’re missing brain cells for not comprehending his thought process. One hand drops against his side in disbelief. The other wraps around his dick, giving it a languid pump.

You roll your eyes. He’s such a boy.

“It’s not even that big of a deal,” you mumble, tucking a loose piece of hair behind his ear. He can’t stand having his hair in his face, constantly stealing your hair ties and losing them on sets, at the gym, and basically where else he goes. The wispy ones at his hairline are sticking to his clammy skin. “What are they gonna do, arrest us?” Now it’s your turn to question his logic, exaggerating your words and moving your neck around like a bobble head.

“No… but we’re going to have to pay for it.”

“Oh, whatever. I’ll pay.”

“Shut up, no you won’t,” he says sternly, twirling his index finger in a circle. “Turn around before I lose my boner.”

You do as he says, turning around to face the mirror. It’s so blurry that all you can see in it is two silhouettes amongst the condensation. Good. It saves you the embarrassment of looking at yourself. You know you look crazy and disheveled. You can already picture it in your head. Hair tangled, lips swollen, tear stained cheeks, lashes clumped together.

You bend over the counter, upper body pressing into the marble slab. It’s cool and smooth, a stark contrast to the hot, stuffy atmosphere of the bathroom. It sends a piercing shock down your spine when your nipples touch the surface. You turn your head to the side, cheeks squished.

Perking your ass up, you wait patiently for his cock. Your glistening folds are on full display for him, so enticing and sweet. He spreads your ass with both hands, catching a glimpse of your puckering hole. You’re messy there too, arousal from your pussy having trickled down throughout the night. You looked so appetizing. He’s spent countless hours of his life buried in your pussy, lapping up your juices, breathing you in with his nose smushed into your clit. Jungkook would die a happy man knowing he got to experience the taste of you.

“Kook, please hur-,” your words are cut short by a loud cry when you feel his mouth on you instead. Wet muscle tickling your clit before dragging through your entrance. It’s like he’s making out with your pussy, flat tongue dipping into you. His plump lips close after each lick, creating these soft smacking noises that send you into overdrive.

His tongue trails up, circling around your other hole. You squeal.

“I can’t take so much- I can’t ta- just fuck me already,” you cry out. You reach your hand back, searching to ground yourself, wanting to touch him. He intertwines your fingers with his, snickering as he gets back up. A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss is placed on your shoulder. They make a warm stream from the back of your neck to your tailbone. He takes his time, pressing kisses on every part of your skin. The tender moment makes you dizzy.

“I’m sorry baby, you just- I’m so fucked up right now.” He felt jittery and sensitive. Needing you as much as you needed him. “I’ll do anything you want- anything for you.”

You grind your hips back, needy for his cock. “I want you inside me. Fill me up.”

The sound of your voice has him weak. He didn’t need any more convincing, letting go of your hand and bending at the knees to align himself with your aching core. He spits on his cock, spreading it around your hungry core with the head. It wasn’t necessary, but a little extra lubrication never hurt anyone.

He grabs your ass, pulling a cheek aside, wanting to see everything. A front row seat to his favorite show. He knows he’s going to just slide right in with how drenched you were.

He stuffs himself in, catching you off guard with the lack of preparation, giving you his entire length on the first push. The arch of your back sucked his cock in so deep that you felt it in your stomach. You felt so full, so stretched. Like he was made to be inside of you. Your mouth opens wide with a silent scream, clawing at the countertop, needing to cling onto something. Anything. Your fingertips hurt as they press into the marble.

Jungkook’s eyes are locked on the way your pussy just engulfs his cock. It tries to suck him back in when he pulls away, like it doesn’t want him to leave. Like it’s your life force. If he withdraws, your body will surely wither away into a pile of little pink sparkles.

“Can you just-” he grunts, wrapping his colorful arm under your hips and lifting, making your parted thighs come together. “Yeah, like that… so tight like this.”

“Mhm, feels so good like this Koo,” you purr in agreement. The fit is more snug than before. You can feel every ridge of his shaft against your walls. Every vein. It makes your toes curl into the soft shag carpet beneath you.

Chills rush through your limbs when he starts to snap his hips into you. There’s intent behind his thrusts. Pulling all the way back, leaving only the very tip of his cock inside of you. Watching as your cunt clenchs around it. Loving how your arousal turns milky, leaving his dick so wet and creamy. Then, he plunges all the way in. You let out little ‘mmm’ noises when his hips meet yours, breasts jiggling wildly underneath you.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth. He slows down for a moment, smushing his pelvis flush against your ass and swiveling his hips in a circle. It’s obvious that he’s trying not to cum.

“Me either, it’s okay,” you tell him, placing your palms flat and pushing your body up. Determined to get him off, you start throwing your ass back, using all your might to work his cock in and out of you. Skin slapping against skin.

“Don’t.” He places one palm on your hip, halting your movements. The other goes to your shoulder, pushing you back down. “Lift your leg up,” he orders, pointing to the ledge of the sink, showing you exactly what he wants you to do.

This was something he did often. Whenever you two had sex, Jungkook put you in all kinds of bendy positions. He loved folding you like a pretzel while he fucked you. In his words, putting you in simple, uncomplicated positions was ‘wasted potential.’ He was hell-bent on putting your flexibility to good use.

Picking your knee up and placing it on the sink makes his cock slip out. You hear a hushed ‘fuck’ escape his lips. He’s quick to guide himself back to your drippy center. He’s so deep you feel like you’re going to vomit. Your eyes roll back, squeezing shut when you feel tears prick at the outer corners. You’ve cried way too much in the past hour…

“Stay still, let me take care of you.” You couldn’t tell if your mind was playing tricks on you. If you’re being honest, his dick usually left you dazed and confused. But his voice sounded broken. Almost like he was on the verge of falling apart.

Without warning, he rests his entire weight on you, smashing his chest to your back. The stretch was uncomfortable, but the warmth radiating off of him was overpowering.

“I want to make you feel good,” he fucking whimpers as his hand snakes between your bodies. He uses his ring and index finger to spread you open, middle finger massaging your clit. He nudges your head to the side, making room for him to nuzzle into your neck. “I want to be good for you- to you. I don’t want to miss anymore, please- don’t leave me. I’m so sorry.”

He’s plowing into you with so much force, trying to emphasize what he means. You know what he means. What was that myth again? Something about being able to feel your soulmate's pain?

You never thought it was possible to feel devastation and euphoria simultaneously, but that’s exactly how you feel at the moment.

You need to see him. You reach your trembling hand to the mirror. The fog melts under your touch. You wipe your hand back and forth until he’s visible. Even streaky and distorted, he's still absolutely gorgeous. “Jungkook, look at me.”

He lifts his head, peeking through blonde curtains to meet your eyes in the reflection. They’re dark and glassy. You see nothing but raw emotion swimming in them. Pure love. His cheeks are tinged red.

“Don’t cry, baby,” you sigh, ignoring your own words as wetness finally spills over your waterline. Crying because he’s touching you just right, bringing you closer and closer to climax, but also because you love him. So fucking much.

The pit in your stomach keeps growing. Your orgasm is approaching rapidly. You shake and convulse under him. You’ve never felt so good.

“I love you,” he groans, confession sounding heavenly in your ears as his thrusts become sloppy and hopeless. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Me too.” You turn your head, nose knocking into his as you tangle your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Kiss me, kiss me, I love you so much,” you plead, voice cracking.

He does. Lips crashing into yours, meshing together perfectly. Tongues twisting together, still tasting like one another. You sob into his mouth, tugging on his thick strands as your orgasm hits you full force. Pleasure is felt in every inch of your body, from your toes to the very tip top of your scalp.

Jungkook cums with you. Cute face scrunching up as he paints your walls in hot white. He gives you everything, thrusting into you until he’s completely empty. Cumming so much that it overflows around his cock and spills down your thigh.

A sequence of serendipitous events that leave you warm and comfortable.

Both of you are sticky with cum, sweat, tears, spit, and probably every other bodily fluid that exists. You should clean up, but neither of you make an effort to move. Too exhausted. Too peaceful.

Closing your eyes, you relish in the feeling of his chest expanding and contracting. Instead of listening to the ticks of the clock on your right, you listen to his breathing. It’s rough and sporadic at first, but as the minutes pass by, it becomes calm and even. You can feel his heartbeat against your back. You’re surrounded by him.

Light touches trail over your shoulders and down your arms until they reach your palms. He laces his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. Bringing the left one to his mouth, he places exactly four kisses against it. The last kiss is longer and more meaningful than the rest. You smile to yourself. Four years ago, you would’ve never imagined that your relationship with Jungkook would look like this. Loving, happy, and healthy.

He turns your hand over, placing it against his cheek. Your sweet boy.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask him, voice hoarse. You feel him shake his head. You hum, needing to say one more thing before you drop the issue. “I just want you to know that I love you. You have no reason to feel guilty. I’d rather have you with me mentally and emotionally than physically, you know?”

He nods, placing a wet peck to your temple this time.

“Alright, get out of me. Your dick is limp and you’re sweaty.”

He lets out an airy laugh, mouth still pressed against your skin. Your grimace when he pulls out of you, cum already oozing out. Yuck.

It was alright though. You couldn’t think of a better way to end your anniversary than taking a hot shower with him. You lift yourself off the counter, bones cracking. Legs aching. Worn out and exhausted. You were excited to slip under the crisp white sheets with him, fall asleep with your head on his chest. The perfect pillow. That sounded wonderful.

Your shower was interrupted by a loud banging at the door. Jungkook looked at you confused and wide eyed, hoping out with impeccable speed as he scrambled to put a robe on. You groan, who the fuck would show up to your hotel room at 11:17 p.m.?

Hotel security. That’s who.

There had been a total of eight noise complaints. All coming from the same floor.

They weren’t too happy about the mirror either.

Needless to say, you and Jungkook spent the remainder of your anniversary in a shitty motel.

5K notes · View notes

bangaveragewhitewine · 8 months

Text

I'm yours, all yours

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, established relationship)

October 1991

It’s been over two months since you kissed Eddie Munson in the back alley of the dive bar you both work in. You had barely stopped kissing him ever since.

An autumn afternoon together shows you a little bit more of the man you’re falling in love with.

Word Count: 6.2K

Content / Warnings: Contains the main food groups - fluff, smut & hurt+comfort. Reader has some self doubt / anxious thoughts. This is 18+ - if you are not 18+ hit the back button and read something else. Oral (m receiving, minor f receiving), p-in-v sex. Feeeeelings. Eddie & Reader are mid twenties. Reader written as AFAB using fem pronouns.

This is best enjoyed after reading their origin story crazy-mad for you (part of the Happy Hours series)

Author’s note: I’m planning to follow CMFY with some one-shots from throughout Eddie & Bartender’s relationship. I have some loose ideas but this one came from a deleted scene I couldn’t squeeze into the main fic so reworked it! Beta’ed by @specialagentmonkey (theee best) Thank you for the love on CMFY! Reading your replies and reblogs and tags made my shitty wee brighter. Hope you enjoy this cosy peek and have a gorgeous day 🖤

It’s been over two months since you kissed Eddie Munson in the back alley of the dive bar you both work in. You had barely stopped kissing him ever since. Every moment your lips aren’t on each other is like a thousand paper-cuts to Eddie’s heart (so soft inside the facade of Mean Metalhead he has curated for himself). He makes you want to write his name next to yours in pink gel pen, framed with sparkly little hearts.

Two months and counting with Eddie and you learn something new about him every day; he loves tattoos but needles make his stomach twist, he meets his friend Steve once a month for a dude-date breakfast (but sees as much as he can of him and his other friends when their schedules line up), he sings with his band but needs at least five drinks before karaoke.

When you ask questions, when you're curious, he tells his long and meandering stories with wandering tangents which tell you so much about the man you’re falling in love with. He opens up to you, tells you things very few people know - about his mom, how he ended up with his Uncle Wayne. It hasn’t been long, but you already can’t wait to meet him.

Two whole months (closer to three really) and you’re sure you don’t want to ever have a single day without Eddie in your life, and your bed. And yet you still haven’t asked the question that has been on your mind since before you two ever got together.

It’s October now; Autumn is here and the city has turned chilly. Sweltering summer nights are no longer and you and Eddie have been spending afternoons and late nights when you’re not working watching your favourite horror films. When he had told you how much he loved Halloween - just as much as you, if not a wee bit more - you knew Eddie Munson was the one.

It’s Friday, late afternoon and you had reluctantly spent the night in your own apartment. The shame radiating from the mountain of laundry in the corner of your room had become too powerful to ignore and so you had forgone a night of being held and loved-on to tackle it and the other life-admin you had been ignoring. Eddie had suggested staying at your place, but you knew he would distract you too much with his kisses and touches (which he doled out generously whenever you were near).

You had missed your boyfriend terribly, almost like a missing limb or a gorgeous big parasite (affectionate) that you had grown more than fond of. Eddie had the night off work but still drove you to and from the bar, even stayed for a drink until Frank shooed him away for trying to distract you. You had missed him so much that you had kept him on the phone to talk a little longer when he got home before saying goodnight and promising you would see him before your shift together tomorrow. You had spent nights apart before, days and nights when you or Eddie had clashing schedules but you felt his absence more than ever today.

Your laundry and errands had never been completed with such efficiency as when you had the motivation of seeing Eddie as soon as they were ticked off your to-do list.

You arrived at his door and buzzed the intercom for his apartment, laden down with an overnight bag (over-weekend really) and Tupperware containers full of homemade soup and lasagna for before your shift at Jackie’s. Your cheeks are warm and you can feel heat prickling under your arms alongside the swelling of anticipation in your chest. Eddie buzzes you in and comes to meet you, a big grin on his face for his girl.

His hair is up in a messy bun, held in place by a black velvet scrunchie you insisted was his now. He looks cosy in sweats, a tank top and his red and black flannel which you know to be softer than soft. Eddie hadn’t even bothered with shoes, braving the stairs in his socks so that he could see you sooner. You match his smile when you catch sight of him; cosy Eddie is far from the leather-jacketed bouncer you had got to know.

When he sees how many bags you’re carrying, he rushes to lighten your load (doesn’t even skid on the tiles).

“You walked here with all that?! I could’a picked you up!” he said, shouldering your overnight bag before blessing you with a kiss.

“It’s like two blocks, not a marathon.” You roll your eyes at him but pout for another kiss anyway as he rings for the elevator.

Eddie will never refuse you a kiss. He pecks little smooches to your smile as it grows wider. “I missed you last night.”

“I missed you too.” You nudge his cheek with your nose, pecking at it like a little bird as the lift arrives; you step in ahead of him, pressing the button for the third floor with your now free hand.

He asks if you slept okay (not as well without him, but you don’t say that) and tells you about the bag of free bagels he scored as a thank you from the man who ran the deli a few doors down. The guy’s hand-truck had lost a wheel while he was taking in a delivery that morning and Eddie helped him out, fixed the wheel too. He knew how much you loved the bagels from there and it felt fateful that his reward was a bag of your favourite everything bagels.

“Neighbourhood hero,” you sing, following him into his one-bedroom flat. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Trigonometry. French. Um… skateboarding!” he lists, as he drops your bag inside his bedroom door. “I fucking suck at skateboarding.”

The thought of Eddie on a skateboard makes you smile - definitely a little meanly, what a dork - but you store that one for later.

The bag of Tupperware barely makes it to the kitchen counter before Eddie’s arms are around you, pulling you back against his chest. His nose presses into the base of your neck, huffing hot breaths against your sweet-smelling skin before kissing up his well-worn path.

“I really missed you,” he murmurs, hips nudging forward against your jean-clad behind for emphasis.

“Missed me or missed getting your dick sucked?” you ask, turning your head to look at him.

“Both. Mainly you.” His grin is impish as you turn to loop your arms around his neck, backed right up to the wiped-clean Formica. You let him lift you onto the counter so that he can stand between your spread knees.

“I missed you and your dick, so we’re even. And we have the whole weekend together to get reacquainted, huh?” You twist a loose curl around your finger, tugging to watch it spring and coil.

Eddie feels like a swooning maiden when he’s the centre of your attention like this, being flirted with. He loves it and he knows he’s in love with you. He had fallen first, long before you had even realised your banter at work was more than just that.

His fingers creep up your thighs, the silver glinting at you as you place your focus on making up for a night apart as you make out in his little kitchen.

Eddie smells shower-fresh, clean with a hint of spice, and the curls at the base of his neck are still a little damp. He shivers, giggling against your mouth when you run your finger down his spine. “Your nails are tickly,” he says with a pretend scowl.

You know he loves your nails on his back; when they’re digging in like claws to leave him littered with red scratches, and when they’re tickling up and down in soothing strokes as he’s falling asleep.

He takes your hand and brings it around to see the fresh coat of deep red on your nails. “You painted them!” he says, his nose scrunches cutely when you poke it.

“I did. The black was getting chipped and gross.” You brought the black polish anyway in case he wanted to try it out again, thrown somewhere in your make-up bag.

Eddie rests his chin on your chest; your breasts have become his favourite place to lay his head, closely followed by the squishy pillow of your thigh (there’s a third-place tie between your tummy and your butt). You dot kisses to his forehead beneath the shaggy bangs, trailing up into his hair when he presses his face against your soft sweater.

“Eddie?” “Hmm.” His voice is muffled. “You hungry?”

His head turns so you can hear him more clearly, “Hungry for you.”

Hopeful mischief twinkles in his hot-chocolate eyes when he peers up at you.

“Horndog.” “Yes?” “Gross boy.” “Unh, yes. Say more dirty things to me, baby.”

He has a look of hammed-up ecstasy on his face, scrunched brow and bitten lip. Even though you know he’s pretending, it makes the horny cavewoman part of your brain think about his face when he is actually deep inside you or desperate for your touch - it makes your tummy feel like lava. One night apart makes you realise just how bad you’ve got it for him. You shove at his head and Eddie leans back with a throaty giggle before squeezing your hips again.

To balance out your playful push and satiate the need building in your gut, you pull him in for a kiss - open-mouthed with the dirty slide of tongue that sounds loud in your ears. Your legs wrap around him, arms tighten.

“Carry me?” “Bed?” “Sofa, bed. Wherever.” “Potato, tomato.” “Eddie.”

He sweeps you off the counter - you’re still surprised and impressed at his strength until you remember him lifting the barrels and kegs at work. You reward him with distracting kisses as he carries you to the soft brown couch and smile up at him when he lays you down gently. He forgets about gentle as he removes his shirt and pounces on you, resuming your dirty kisses from the kitchen.

Merlot-red nails push the hem of Eddie’s tank top up his pale back, slipping beneath to pull him tighter to you between your thighs. You can already feel him growing hard; you nip at his lower lip and kiss away the sting.

“Sit up for a sec.” You tap his side but Eddie needs to kiss you just a little bit more before he can pull himself away.

“Where you goin’?” he asks, a little breathless. Blown-black pupils eat up the brown warmth with his voracious want; he watches as you sit up on your knees and pull your cosy sweater off, then the white vest beneath, leaving you in your creamy silk bra and blue jeans.

“Pretty,” Eddie whispers, his fingers brushing the little bow between your breasts. He was in awe of your little collection of bras, the matching underwear too. He even loved you in the cotton comfy pants that hugged just right when your cramps ached.

“Sit back against that end. And take your pants off, handsome.” You smile when he stares at you, “Do you need help?”

Eddie barely shakes his head as he wriggles out of his sweatpants and sits where you told him to. You balance each other out, taking turns to take the lead. You’re still learning, and despite Eddie’s non-academic tendencies, he’s studious and dedicated to learning what you like, where and how to touch you. You’re his favourite subject and he’s yours too.

You smile and knee-walk across the chasm between you, situating yourself between his legs to take his face in your hands and kiss him. He makes a small joyful noise when you begin to kiss down to his jaw and nuzzle at the dusting of stubble.

“Smell good,” you murmur, teasing delicate skin with your teeth before bestowing him sucking a wet kiss, enough to leave just a hint of a bruise there. It makes Eddie groan quietly, a desperate little noise at the back of his throat. He’s louder when you slip your fingers down his chest and into the waistband of his black boxers - they have little skulls on them.

“Cute,” you run your thumb over the elastic at the top as your knuckles brush his cock. Almost an echo of Eddie’s assessment of your bra moments ago.

Hips push up, almost like an electric shock. There’s a tiny noise that you just about hear, deep back in his throat, a quiet grunt as Eddie covers your hand and shows you what he needs. His pretty lashes flutter as you look at each other, sparking fire in your gut again. You smile and move your hand away, halting his protest by pulling the black cotton down his thighs to drop them on the floor.

You can feel saliva pooling under your tongue when you see him - you really did miss him, all of him, while you were apart. He’s thick and a few centimetres over average length; a nice dick (rare and wonderful) and he knows what to do with it to leave you brainless and whimpering. Eddie gets one more kiss before you make yourself comfy, lying on your tummy between his legs. Little kisses are peppered on his hairy thighs, over the black and shadow of ink, before you take him in your hand, then your mouth.

Eddie is in awe of how pretty you look like this, how your lashes kiss your cheekbones and the stretch of your lips (he goes a little crazy if you’re wearing lipstick too, really gets him going). His breath comes hard through his nose as you tongue the head of him, press against the thick vein before taking as much as you can into your mouth.

“Shit,” he growls, feeling your nails on his thigh as you begin to bob your head steadily. His hips and thighs tense and spread a little wider, needy, as he keeps himself in check. Your other hand holds the base of him, what you haven’t yet tried to fit into that pretty mouth.

“Look at my girl, so gorgeous,” he murmurs, smiling when your lashes flutter. His girl. “So pretty.”

You hum affirmative, taking more in when his head tips back to show off his pale throat and the little mark you left behind. His jaw tenses, twitches and you begin the slow bob of your head again. You look up past your lashes, watching his brow crease when you take him all the way.

“Shit shit shit,” his voice is a breathy growl that bleeds into a louder moan when he sees you looking up at him - his devil woman. “You’re going to kill me someday with that mouth, huh?” he says. The shake in his voice betrays him as he tries to act a little smooth, a little more together as you’re taking him apart.

You bob your head, imitating a nod, and bring your hand down to squeeze and roll his neglected balls for good measure. That makes him howl and he covers his face with his arm while you let that playful hand take over so you can catch your breath.

“Y’okay?” you ask, resting your cheek against his thigh as you move your hand a little faster.

“Mhmm, peachy,” he replies, eyes a little wild. You love the pink blush on his usually pale cheeks, love knowing that he’s like this because of you.

Eddie strokes your cheek as you take the head of him back between your lips, a tender little caress of his thumb that makes you close your eyes and lean in. You feel hot and slick between your legs, push your hips to the sofa cushion just a little to temper the ache.

He catches the little motion and his jaw drops a little - it clears his head just a little, zeroing in on you through his haze of arousal. “Oh my girl feelin’ needy too?” he asks, thumb pushing gently against your cheek.

You move your mouth off of him and nod, turning your head to kiss his palm. “Told’ju I missed you.”

Eddie’s grin can’t be contained. “C’mere then.” His hands run over your back, coaxing you into his lap.

Once you have rid yourself of your jeans and underwear you take up your throne on Eddie’s thighs. Your appetite for each other meant that he had started storing condoms in practically every room - there's a fresh box on the coffee table, bought that morning after he saw how low the reserves were.

Your arms wind around his neck, pressing yourself against Eddie as he kisses you again. Fingers drift between your legs, feeling just how slick you are for him - a combination of missing him and seeing the effect of your mouth on his face. You feel his smile against your mouth as you seek a deeper dirtier kiss, sucking that plump lower lip between your own.

One guitar-string scarred finger is joined by a second, rubbing slow firm circles that make you moan into his mouth. They press inside and his thumb takes up that slow wet rub, pulling more little needy noises from your lips as you take him back into your hand.

Hands and wrists cramp easily at this angle and you take a moment to pull back, biting your kiss-bruised lip before turning around on your hands and knees to present yourself to Eddie. Peeking over your shoulder with a cheeky smile, you see how his eyes blaze before grabbing for the box of Durex. You hide your grin against your arm when you hear him swearing at the plastic wrapping, calling the box ‘a fuckin’ shitbag’ when his nails struggled for purchase against it. There’s a tiny ‘yes!’ when he finally breaks in and you laugh quietly at you listen to the familiar tear-open of foil.

On his knees, he bends to kiss the rounds of your ass, then dips lower to taste you just once. “Fuckin’ so sweet,” he murmurs, wishing he had the willpower to not follow his dick that afternoon and dive into you instead - but there’s always later.

You gasp-giggle at the feeling of his tongue and rock back when you see him line himself up. “Please?” Your lips push into a playful pout, “Show me how much you missed me?” You love winding him up like this.

One side of his mouth curves up as he holds your hip, rubs the head against you to play you at your own game before pushing all the way in. Your jaw drops open, feeling full as Eddie rocks his hips minutely. You can feel him pushed right up against you inside and out, his thighs against the back of yours before he begins a deep dragging thrust.

“Shit, you feel good,” he murmurs, stroking your hip lovingly. “That’s it, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You nod, hating that you can’t see him despite how good this angle is for you both. “Eddie,” you whimper, feeling yourself flutter around him.

“Yeah, that’s who’s making you feel good, sweet thing. I’ve got you.” He squeezes your hip, the silver of his rings biting into the doughy softness as he watches his length disappear inside you over and over as he begins to get quicker and harder with his thrusts.

Your eyes nearly roll back as he pounds into you, fingers gripping the arm of the couch - it’s about the only thing keeping you up as Eddie fucks you and runs his mouth. It feels so good you can barely speak.

“That’s my girl. Going all cock-dumb on me?” he asks, squeezing the meat of your ass a little harder, watching it jiggle and bounce with his thrusts. “I’ll make you feel good like this every day if you let me. S’what you deserve, getting fucked like you need, huh?”

Your answering moan is spurred on not only by his words but the graze of his length on your g-spot. “Eddie, god! Yes, right there,” your voice is a babble, the words running into each other ‘yesrigh’there’ as it becomes the only thing you can say.

The pulsing gush around him, hot wet heat, makes Eddie moan with you. “I know, baby. I know.” His back teeth press together as he holds on, the cord of pleasure pulled tight in his pelvis. The slapping pounding sound fills the room but he can only hear you, almost crying with pleasure.

“Close,” you murmur, slumped forward a little more. The angle arches your back, pulls Eddie deeper. Your groan is shaky, broken with want.

“Me too, baby. Got me so wound up,” he murmurs. “Can you touch yourself for me?” He watches your hand move back between your legs, feels the graze of your fingers as you bring yourself closer, small tight circles that sync up with his punishingly good pace.

“Fuck! Eddie,” you whimper, feeling the inferno in your belly burn bright and hot as you see stars, tears springing as you come hard.

“Shit shit, that’s my girl. Oh yeah, fuck,” he grinds out, continuing his thrusts as your body shakes with pleasure. Eddie folds over you, wrapping his arms around you to bring you back into his lap like a rag doll. He can’t bear to not be as close to you as humanly possible as he nears his own orgasm, mouth pressed to your neck to kiss and pant against it as he hammers into you.

His fingers trail down, finding a quick rhythm that brings you to a shock of a second climax, shorter but no less intense than the first. You feel boneless, yet manage to pull his hand away when it becomes too much, holding his arm around your middle as the other curls up and loops around his neck. Your lips find their way to Eddie’s jaw, pressing wet kisses there. Your eyes are heavy, and yet you see the moment he falls apart.

His eyes close, face creasing in beautiful blissful agony as he comes holding you in his lap, your name on his tongue.

Your chest feels heavy, breath synced up as your fingers stroke up against his scalp, past the flyaways. He kisses you messily, so slow and without the same hurry he had mere moments ago.

Your noses brush against each other’s warm cheeks, lazy smiles pressing kisses as hands smooth and caress wherever is in reach. You feel fuzzy around the edges, warm all over with Eddie plastered to your back. You would both gladly overheat to stay like this a bit longer. Eddie’s lean arms are the only thing holding you together right now, grounded syrupy-sweet kisses that bond the broken bits back into place.

“Wanna see my girl,” he murmurs after a few moments mouthing at your shoulder, “Easy, babe.” Eddie’s hands on your waist help you to move from his lap, unsheathing him from your body. He wraps the condom in a tissue before lying back, inviting you into his arms with grabby hands.

You bring the blanket from the back of the sofa with you when you lie against his chest, sharing love-drunk kisses as you bask in the glow of each other.

It’s bright-cold outside the steamed-up windows; the afternoon sun lights the room. His neighbours will surely hate you, but when Eddie strokes his tongue against yours you forget to care.

You brush his sweaty bangs away and press a kiss to the centre of his forehead before resting your head against his chest, tucked under his chin as his hand finds yours. He kisses your knuckles and smiles down at you.

“Y’okay?” he checks, rosy-cheeked bright-eyed and deliriously happy. Sometimes he feels the need to pinch himself when he realises the woman he had been pining for is now his girlfriend. One time you had been lying together smoking and watching a rerun of Twin Peaks and he had actually asked you to pinch him - his nipple had ached for the rest of the night but at least he knew it was all real. And you had kissed it better.

Now you smile lazily up at him, real and cosy in his arms. “Never better,” you promise. Your nose scrunches when he kisses it and calls you his little bunny to make you laugh.

Eddie lights a cigarette and holds it to your lips when you’re too comfy to move. It brings you both back to the real world, back from the plain of absolute bliss. It’s quiet, neither feeling the need to fill the comfortable silence until your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Where’d you get them?” you ask, lifting your joined hands to finally speak the question you have been meaning to ask. Your fingers slot between Eddie’s, palm to palm, as you admire the silver.

“Been kinda building a little collection since school. Thrift shops mainly.” Eddie shrugs one shoulder; he’s careful not to jostle you too much as you lie against his chest. He pauses to catch a fallen eyelash on your cheek, holding it out to you to blow away. You smile a little and lift your head to wish for a thousand more afternoons like this.

“I have two nice ones; my friends pooled together for a graduation present for me, and the other one, this one,” Eddie shows you his right middle finger, a harmless flip-off to show you the black enamel heart with wings that he always wears. It’s smaller, less outrightly demonic than the others. The rest of his rings are swapped out, usually a lucky dip into a little dish on his bedside table, but this one stays on. “Bought this one for myself when the band went on tour. Something to remember, y’know?”

You had heard about Corroded Coffin’s big opportunity last year, playing a few dates as an opening act for a bigger metal band. Your thumb runs over the warm metal as he begins to speak again.

“It was the last day of tour and I was so fuckin’ tired. We were kinda convinced that we were going to be discovered or something, and the crowds really liked us but… it didn’t happen how we had planned.”

You expect to hear sadness in his voice but there is none. Maybe a hint of resignation that their dream hadn’t become reality.

“Me and Gareth had a fight on the last morning, both of us were hungover as fuck and antsy because it was all going to be over in a few hours. So I stormed off to get breakfast and clear my head, or get more fucked up.” Eddie’s little smile doesn’t meet his eyes; they look a little bit more glossy than usual. “It was my Mom’s birthday and I felt like shit. I would say I found this little jeweller-silversmith place but I think it found me.”

You squeeze Eddie tighter, feeling like he’s letting you see a whole new part of him. A beautiful little sentimental part that houses and holds dear the other woman he loved and the little boy he was when he lost her.

“It was way more money than I should have spent on something so small, but it felt right I couldn’t leave it behind y’know? I went in and it was right there.” His eyes sparkle as he remembers that feeling of all-over calm he felt that day in the little shop. “Went back and apologised to Gare and we played the last show, definitely our best one.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his mouth, “That’s a sweet story, Ed. Thank you for telling me.” Your voice is a whisper against his pillowy lips; you kiss those lips again and feel the silver against your cheek as Eddie kisses you back. Your chest feels like it could burst and there’s an annoying pressure at the back of your eyes.

“You’re gonna laugh at me but..” Eddie rolls his eyes and leans his head back against the arm of the sofa. He figures out his words before speaking again. “It’s like, everything happened for a reason - we didn’t get a big break but we’re all happy. Gareth got into art school, Jeff moved out of his Mom’s place and… I met you.”

Silence.

His honesty winds you, it hits you so hard in the chest that you can barely fathom the flurry of feelings like wings battering your chest from the inside. Your lower lip wobbles. Eddie is dead serious too; you know he’s not saying it to be playful. He has so much love in his battered heart and it oozes from him.

Eddie was expecting you to scoff or roll your eyes, call him ‘soft boy’ or something. Maybe a very small part of him thought you might brush him off (he didn’t let himself dwell on that bit). He certainly wasn’t expecting the teary look in your eyes.

“Shit, baby.” He thumbs your cheek and pouts back at you, pressing the sweetest kiss to your lips; so sweet and slow like the maple syrup you have been adding to your coffees now that it’s Fall. “I mean it. If things went differently, if I didn’t come back, I wouldn’t have met the sexy new bartender, huh?”

You smile, laugh a little wetly and try to blame the post-sex rush for being weepy. “I guess I’m a little bit glad you came back to be annoying. Super selfish of me.”

You can’t help but think that there might be some parallel universe where you’re still shaking cocktails in Jackie’s but Eddie’s on stage opening for Metallica, Corroded Coffin at the top of the charts. With that thought comes a deep-sinking feeling that maybe someday you might not be enough and he will want that rockstar life; groupies, supermodels, a pretty blonde actress on his arm.... Not you.

Eddie kisses you again and pulls you close, cocooning the pair of you in the blanket. You find his hand to kiss the black enamel heart before resting your head, cheek to chest.

You have never felt so in love, nor have you felt so scared. Eddie feels lighter now that he has said out loud the thought about fate that has been rattling around his skull for too long. He feels your arms wrapping tighter around him, like he might disappear.

He presses his smiling lips fiercely to the crown of your head. “What’s goin’ on in here, huh? I can hear that big brain thinkin’ up a storm.” He thinks over everything he said; was he coming on too strong?

“I just really really like you, Ed,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. Telling him that felt so easy; maybe if you weren’t being sucked into an internal doom spiral you could play it up and roll your eyes, pretend it was icky to like him.

“Yeah? I really really like you too.” Your admission makes his heart sing; Eddie tries to temper his smile but can’t. He won’t pretend he’s not head over heels for you, he’d give you a vital organ if you needed it - hell, his heart was already yours.

He cups your cheek again, coaxing you to look at him. “What else? You’re like�� a scared little bunny right now.” He concentrates all his love into how he’s holding you as if it could be transferred like magic from his fingertips.

“I just...”

He doesn’t force you to go on when you hide your face in his chest, feeling so stupid for being emotional. Your eyes burn, and he wishes he could be whatever you need right now. He’s not used to seeing his bossy flirty girl so unsure of herself; it makes him love you a little more. He looks up at the ceiling and squeezes your body gently.

“Hey. You don’t have to say anything, just listen okay? I’m serious about you, about... Everything I feel for you.” His voice shakes minutely but he takes a moment, stroking your back to centre himself. “I’m not going to up and leave someday to be a rockstar without you. I need you. Okay? You’re my girl. Best thing that’s happened to me in so so long.” Eddie presses a fiercely loving kiss to your head. “I’m yours, all yours.”

A tiny shaky sob escapes your throat, leaving you embarrassed. “I’m your girl,” you nod, looking up to see Eddie’s sentimental smile, his wet brown eyes. Your voice is thin and wobbly, like a broken pencil. “I’m so fuckin’ happy with you, Eddie.”

Neither of you says it, but ‘I love you’ is woven into your confessions, binding you together as you share that moment on Eddie’s squishy, comfy sofa.

You tilt your head to exchange teary-wet kisses, wobbly smiles on your lips as you begin to feel calmer.

“My baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t bottle shit up, okay? Doesn’t help.” He cups your face, wiping the last stray tears from your cheeks and presses kisses there as a balm.

“I know. I feel stupid for getting upset, it’s like so early for us..” You look down at his chest, trace the black ink you can reach before looking at his pretty face. You know it’s so early, so why get ahead of yourself when Eddie’s already made you a promise? You take a breath, close your eyes and focus on what you really want, “When can I come to see Corroded Coffin play?”

Eddie grins, laughs a little throaty. They had taken a little break after tour, played a few bars in the Spring to make sure they didn’t rust up. With Gareth settled back in college, they were ready to get back into it.

“We’re trying to get a gig for the end of the month. Andy knows a guy putting on a night close to Halloween. Jeff’s the organised one though, I’ll check with him tonight.” He kisses your head and smiles. “I gotta get you a shirt, huh?”

“Mhm, yes please. I heard the lead singer is so hot,” you say, smiling a little when he makes a happy noise deep in his throat. “Might throw my bra on stage if he’s as good as they say…” The thought of seeing your man on stage - your man - makes your tummy flutter.

“Yeah? Shit, lucky guy.”

You look up at Eddie and move yourself to rest your forehead against his. “The luckiest. I’m the luckiest girl though.” You mean it too, sealing it with a kiss.

Eddie cups the back of your head, pressing the loveliest kisses to your mouth. “Lucky fuckers,” he murmurs. You trade kisses back and forth, chasing lazy happy smiles for ‘just one more?’ until you need to move.

“Can I shower? Feel sweaty.” Your time together before work is already ticking away, though you’ve made excellent use of it so far.

“Can I come watch? I mean wash your back?” he asks, walking his fingers down your spine with a coy little smile.

“You just want to see soapy boobs,” you tut, looping your arms around his neck as he sits up, taking you with him.

“What guy doesn’t want to see soapy boobs?” he asks, incredulous at the thought.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, humming in agreement, “You still got that disposable camera?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide - you half expect his heart to beat out of his chest, eyes on stalks like a babbling cartoon. “Yes ma’am.”

He dumps you off his lap onto the sofa to root for the camera in his room. The sound of his sweary search carry down the hall as you laugh up at the ceiling.

You love him. You absolutely love Eddie Munson. He’s very easy to love.

Later, when you’re showered clean (a process which required getting just a little bit dirty again with Eddie worshipping you on his knees in the shower) and full-bellied after the dinner you had brought, you and Eddie get ready for work side-by-side in his room.

You’re putting mascara on in his mirror, humming to Queen despite Eddie’s protests, when you hear him call your name.

“Mhm?”

Eddie’s dressed in a black Henley and some jeans - his leather boots and jacket to go on next. You see the glint of silver around his neck as he nods for you to join him on the bed.

“Help me pick what rings to wear?” he asks, voice soft and tentative.

Your heart skips and you nod, crossing the gap to perch on his lap as you pick three more for him to wear - an upside-down cross, a very mean-looking skull, a silver signet ring with ‘EM’ engraved (the gift from his friends for graduation).

He lets you choose where they go and watches as you slip them onto his long fingers. “Perfect,” he murmurs, linking your hands together.

“Pretty damn perfect,” you agree, kissing the back of his hand so he will show you that bright and beaming grin.

You love him, you love him, you love him. And Eddie? He already can’t wait to put a ring on your finger.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

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kitashousewife · 8 months

Note

Hi Heids! writing prompt idea; you're at a party playing spin the bottle and its your turn, surprise surprise it lands on Kita 👀

ooooh perfect thank you baby!!

"what are we, thirteen?" aran derides as atsumu waves him off, placing a newly empty bottle on the ground. everyone gathers around in a circle and he smiles.

"don't be a party pooper!" atsumu smiles when he notices everyone sitting down, including you. he gives you a knowing smirk and you can't help but roll your eyes at his behavior. he's been like this all night long.

"who wants to go first?" he smirks, looking around the room for a brave volunteer. someone's hand shoots up a few seconds later, and the game began.

a week ago, atsumu texted you to invite him to his place for a little get-together. some people you knew, others you didn't, and a lot of good food. it had been a while since you saw a lot of your friends, due to busy schedules and other life events. since the summer was coming to a quick close, you decided to go and make the most of it all.

the night had been great so far. catching up with friends, getting the scoop on their lives and enjoying the last bit of sunshine from atsumu's backyard. everything was low-key and relaxed, until it wasn't.

"looks like yer up," osamu calls your name and slides the bottle over to you with a sympathetic smile. you sigh and shuffle to the middle of the circle. atsumu, from the other side, smirks and raises his brows at you.

"anyone ya hope for it to land on?"

"not you, that's for sure," you mumble, giving the bottle a good spin while your pal gives you a faux pout.

each rotation of the bottle makes your stomach bubble with nerves. truthfully yes, there were a few people in the room that you wouldn't mind for the bottle to land on. one in particular though, you'd never be so lucky.

or so you thought.

"well well well," atsumu snorts and elbows the grey-haired man next to him. "looks like yer a winner, kita-san."

your throat runs dry when you look up and lock eyes with him from across the circle. you sit up slowly, still in slight disbelief that you've become so fortunate tonight. the man you've had a crush on since high school is now crawling toward you on a random saturday night.

"good to see ya," his voice is quiet but you hear him loud and clear despite the murmuring going on around you.

"you as well,"

"we don't have to do this, ya know. i could kiss yer cheek if it would make ya more comfortable."

doubts flood your mind and you can't stop yourself before the words come tumbling out of your mouth.

"n-no, i want to kiss you kita-san."

the two of you are kneeled, inches apart. you can smell his cologne and feel his breath on your nose. his hand comes up, and gently tilts your chin up, placing his lips on yours.

you hear those around you gasping and cheering, but it sounds far away. kita's lips move with yours for a short moment before he pulls away. your lips part as you catch your breath, and his eyes are half-lidded when the two of you finally look at each other.

"i think that's enough fun and games for the night, huh? suna, will ya grab some more ice?" atsumu winks at his friend before everyone goes back to their drinks and company, leaving the two of you alone. kita helps you to your feet before giving you a small smile.

"i hope that was okay," he seems worried, eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

"more than okay," you blurt out, causing kita to grin.

“would ya like to come get some air with me?” his hands are in his pockets now, attempting to seem relaxed when in reality, he is just as flustered as you are. you nod, following him out to the backyard.

“i can’t believe atsumu decided to play that,” you laugh, not entirely sure why you said that. of course you believe he would do that.

“glad he did though,” kita mumbles, looking at you with a small smile. “been wantin’ to do that for years.”

“what-“

“do ya remember and the end of my third year, a couple weeks before graduation?” you nod. “after school, i walked with ya home? i tried so hard not to kiss ya then.”

your mind is spinning, and you can’t catch your breath despite your best attempts.

“okay,” you breathe, almost laughing at how insane this night turned out to be. “this whole time, you felt the same way?”

kita looks at you, cheeks dusted pink and hair a little messy from fidgeting with it tonight. he looks like a dream, and you can’t stop staring.

“can i kiss ya again?”

you step closer to him, and he puts a finger under your chin to tilt it up.

“gotta make up for lost time.”

#kita x reader #kita x reader fluff #kita shinsuke #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader

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saintmagx · 10 months

Text

✨ Cruel Summer ✨

pairing: Solo Sikoa x reader, Jey Uso x reader (briefly)

AN: Literally making this for myself, so if I do ever end up publishing - enjoy I guess? 🤪

w/c: 1198

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity(if you squint), jealous Jey, toxic behaviour, bad/embarrassing writing ⚠️

doesn’t follow a specific timeline however it is more recent, total divas making a return.

✨ I love you ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard - he looks up grinning like the devil ✨

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

“I dunno Trin, the thought of being recorded for 12 hours of the day, like, I enjoy my privacy”.

“Think about it as an opportunity, having the fans see a different side of you. Showing them how hard you work your ass off.”

Trinity is my best friend, she helped me out so much when I joined the WWE 6 years ago. She and her husband Jon took me into their family and helped me adapt into the crazy world of being a WWE superstar.

“Just think about it is all I’m saying. It’ll be fun” trin says nudging me.

Ever since I moved here, we have had a weekly tradition of Wednesday Girls Night, its just snacks, Chinese takeout, and movies, it’s just time for us to catch up and wind down from the gruelling travel schedule.

Right on queue at exactly 11:30pm Jon walks in the door.

“Times up ladies” he says, which is swiftly followed by two pillows being thrown at his head.

“Come on uce, you know better than to interrupt gIrLs NiGhT”

The couch beside me dipped and once again I felt the heat from the body of Josh Fatu, my one weakness. His hand falls to his side and creeps closer to me caressing the side of my bare thigh. You see what people don’t know is Josh and I have an ‘agreement’ - no feelings, just sex and friendship, and it was going great until it wasn’t, feeling were caught, specifically by me and I’m stuck between a rock and hard place as I’m falling hard for him, but I cant let this agreement end because I would rather have him this way than not have him at all.

“Spoke with Joe today, Hunter is bringing him up to the main roster, can’t wait to have my other younger brother fighting by my side”. A third pillow is thrown at Jon from the direction of Josh.

“We are twins, and you are only older by 8 minutes”.

Never a dull moment where the Fatu boys are concerned.

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

First day of filming (TD Interview Segment)

Okay, so lets start with a basic intro okay? Ready, go!

The room falls silent the light shines bright on me, I have at least 6 pair of eyes on me, goading me into starting. Gosh why did I sign up to do this!!!

Hi there, my names yn, I am currently on the Smackdown roster and I am the current WWE Women’s Champion.

I’ve been with the WWE for 6 years now and I wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for my adoptive sister Trinity, she took me under her wing and I’ve been there ever since. As you guys know – and if you didn't know, the accent should be a huge giveaway, I’m originally from the United Kingdom, I came to the states with a dream in hand and no one there to help me through this bumpy ride. I can never repay her or Jon for the way they have accepted and welcomed me into their little dynamic. Although, travelling the world with Jon and Josh is hard work, they boys are chaotic, I don't know how Trin managed to do it herself for so long!

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

Friday Night Smackdown, Atlanta Georgia, 8 weeks before Survivor Series

Walking into the arena for Smackdown I get a message from Hunter asking to meet him in his office. A mixture of anxiety and curiosity fill in the pit of my stomach. In his office I’m met with the familiar faces of Jon, Josh, and Joseph, smiling I look over to Hunter who invites me to sit.

“I got your message, what’s up?

“We have been toying with the idea of a cross brand rivalry - for Survivor Series. Now that Joe has come up to the main roster, we think the Usos and Solo v The Judgement Day would pique interest from the WWE universe.”

“So why am I here?”

“Demi is the Women’s World Champion and part of Judgment Day; it would only seem right that she faces the Women’s Champion”.

Without hesitation I accept. Hunter debriefs us on how it’s going to play out over the next few weeks. We will have to be on both RAW and Smackdown over the next few weeks, so looks like it will be me and the brothers travelling together since Trin is exclusive to Smackdown!

Gorilla, few hours later (TD segment)

Tonight, I have a singles match, however Demi has to interfere and cost me the match – thus starting our road to Survivor Series.

I see Hunter in his usual place over at the screens with his headset on talking to Randy Orton, Randy spots me and immediately comes over to me.

“There’s my favourite girl.”

“I wouldn’t let your wife hear you say that Randy”.

Randy Orton, he is exactly how you would imagine him to be, a cocky little shit, flirtatious as hell, a menace but he has a heart of gold. Many nights we would hit the gym together and training with him before his injury really improved my in-ring ability. He is another one I would call my family away from family.

A familiar scent fills my nostrils, Josh. He stands next to me wrapping his arm around me pulling me closer, as if to stake his claim in me.

“I’ve been looking for you, come on let’s go”.

I smile apologetically at Randy, he just waves me off laughing, as much as I say people don’t know anything about me and Josh, it’s not to say there isn’t rumours flying around, people have their own take on it, and that’s okay, we just laugh it off.

Trin and Jon (TD Interview segment)

“You see yn and josh think they are so slick hiding their little late-night rendezvous” says Jon

Trin sighing, “I just wish they would bang their heads together and realise they are meant to be. Think of the double dates we could finally have Jon.”

Jon’s laugh fills the small interview room, “yeah it would be sweet, and yn is already like family, it would be an easy transition.”

Away from the cameras

“What were you talking to Randy about?” Josh quizzes

“Nothing, you came in and ushered me away before I could say anything.”

“Good, I don’t like it when you get attention from other guys, just me, okay?”

“I think you’ll find Josh that I can speak to who I like”. I say frustrated with his behaviour.

You see as much as I love Josh, this, this right here the way he wants to have his cake and eat it too drives me insane. I so much as look at another guy and he is right there to remind me I’m his, yet he can look at and speak to as many girls and I can’t say shit.

“I’ve got a match to get to, I’ll see you later J.”

“Goodluck out there baby girl, not that you need it.” Before he can come any closer to me, I slip out the room and let my frustrated sigh out. How much longer am I going to keep torturing myself.

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

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hamiltonaf · 9 months

Note

Hi bestie, can i request how lewis would help you when you have insomnia? Mine is really a pain in the ass this week, could use a distraction

Night Owl | Lewis Hamilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello loves ! Apologies for the delay in writing requests…I fell really ill over the week and was so out of writing :( but I’m back. Thanks anon for requesting, I hope you enjoy. Requests are still open .xx

Another night that I found it hard to sleep. It was like this for over a week because of stress and anxiety. I don’t even have anything to stress about, it’s just how my mind works when my brains thinks I have so much to do and I won’t complete everything I want to do in time.

It wasn’t that big of a deal to sleep at early hours of the morning all alone because I didn’t have Lewis with me so I’d wake up late. However, now that Lewis is around, I feel the need to sleep and wake up at a normal time so that we could do more things together as a couple since I hardly see him anyway.

Once in a while I’ll experience an adrenaline rush in the middle of the night and I’m so full of energy, I could literally eat a whole meal, probably even host my own fake concert and I still wouldn’t be tired till around 4 or 5am.

I joined Lewis and his family for the start of the summer break before Lewis was off on his boys trip. I was over the moon to see Lewis after a whole 2 weeks. Doesn’t seem that long but felt like a lifetime for me.

We spent the day with the family catching up and playing with Kaiden and Willow. We played countless rounds of Uno and spent most of our time out in the sun. Watching Lewis with kids and spending time with him had me thinking about him leaving on his boys trip soon - anxiety trigger because the thought of us being apart again soon.

I swear I’m not selfish… we video call everyday and I physically see him every weekend or every second weekend, but with our schedules clashing I can’t even spend time with him when I’m free because I’m working. Race weekends also fly by so quickly, before you know it, it’s already Sunday and I’m on a flight back home whilst he takes a flight to another race.

I just would’ve wanted to spend some more time with him during this summer break and it could make up for the lost time.

I didn’t even realise I was daydreaming until Lewis snapped his fingers in front of me. “We’re at the hotel… you’ve been so quiet for the past 15 minutes. Is everything okay ?” He asked softly. “Oh yeah. Uhm everything is fine… don’t worry” I faked a smile and exited the car. He followed behind me back to our room, it was quite evident to Lewis that I wasn’t my usual self. When we reached our room, he grabbed me by my hand and pulled me flush against his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay ? You seem off. Is something bothering you ?” He raised a brow.

“I’m fine really” I gave him a soft smile then pecked his cheek. Just as I was about to leave his grasp, he held me tighter. “Babe I can literally tell when you’re lying. You pull that fake smile on me when something is bother you” he pointed out. I immediately felt embarrassed. “What ? No” I scoffed and giggled. “And you do that as well” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Okay well I’m not in the mood to discuss it right now, maybe later” I trailed as I pecked his lips and walked over to the bathroom. I had a shower and to my surprise, Lewis had fallen off to sleep. I on the other hand was full of energy, but might as well try to sleep.

I got into bed and cuddled up close to him. In hopes I would fall off to sleep, unfortunately I was too restless and ended up turning from side to side. I know he’s a light sleeper and I felt bad at the thought of him waking up because of me. A whole hour of trying to sleep and I gave up. I jumped out of bed and went to our lounge to watch something to pass some time. About half and hour into the movie, I got a shock when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

The movie I was watching had me in a depresso mode where I was bawling my eyes out. “Oh my- love are you okay ?” He asked concerned. “Oh my god. Babe you scared me” I screamed as I placed a hand on my heart. “Didn’t mean to scare you, if anything, you scared me… why did you leave me alone in bed ?” He pouted as he jumped over the couch to sit right next to me. “I can’t sleep” I sighed. “No worries, I can help” he smiled. “Lew it’s not one of those nights where I randomly can’t sleep, I have insomnia. It’s much harder to sleep when you’re an insomniac” I pouted and laid my head on his shoulder. “Well what’s keeping my girl up ? You didn’t tell me earlier, I wanna hear it from you now because I’m concerned” he said as he turned to look at me.

“Okay don’t take this the wrong way. My brain overthinks the smallest of things, when normally I couldn’t care. We’ll blame it on some chemical reaction on my brain, maybe lack of serotonin I think-“ he cut me off. “Babe. You’re rambling. Calm down. Deep breaths and tell me straight up how you’re feeling” he smiled as he cupped my face. “Look, you know how much I love you and it hurts me how little we see each other. My mind for some odd reason isn’t its normal self because all my mind thinks about is how little time we actually spend together …” I said embarrassed. “Look I’m all for you going on your boys trip, but I had to be honest with what’s on my mind” I gave him a soft smile.

“Aww baby you’re so cute. You want me all to yourself ?” He smirked and raised a brow. “Low-key yes, but no” I said as I then slapped my forehead in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry that sounds so dumb” I covered my whole face with my hands. “Darling, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about” he said as he pulled my hands away from my face and caressed my cheek with his thumb. “I’m just glad you’re honest with me. Sorry babe for hurting you, why didn’t you tell me sooner ?” He cooed. “I thought it was stupid and I was just being dumb” I shrugged.

“Never. Your feelings are valid, always. Consider me all yours for the rest of the summer” he smiled as he pulled me in for a short kiss. “Wait, what ? Lew no ! You can’t not go on your boys trip” I argued. “This is not a debate love” he grinned. “But Lew, you can’t not-“ “End of discussion. Let’s go” he cut me off as he stood up and carried me in his arms towards our bedroom.

“Now I definitely won’t sleep, you’re making me feel awful as if I’m holding you back which I’m really not. My mind is just racing at the thought of how quickly time is going and how we’re barely together, this has nothing to do with your mates by the way because I think they’re all amazing. My brain is just not braining these past few days” I pouted as he laid me in bed and jumped in to cuddle me closer to him.

“Babe just don’t worry about it, that’s the least of my concerns right now” he said as he nuzzled his face into my neck. “Lew !” I groaned. “You need to sleep and I’m doing my best to help put an end to your insomnia” he smiled into my neck as he snaked an arm around my waist. He placed soft kisses along my shoulders before turning me around in his grasp. “I really love you” he smiled. “I really love you too Lew Lew” I felt my cheeks flush as he pulled my face closer and connected our lips.

I felt so at ease in his embrace knowing he’s right with me after quite a while of being apart. I guess all I needed was a goodnight kiss.

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fluff #f1 fluff #lewis hamilton oneshot #lh #lh44 #ricciardoaf oneshots

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lightlycareless · 3 months

Note

More high school au with Naoya and y/n pleaseee😩😩🙏🏻🙏🏻 they are so cute and like- uughhhhh ( you don’t have to tho )

Hello anon!

Thank you so much for waiting 🥺❤️❤️ I actually have some snippets here and there of scenarios I want to write for them, however, now that valentine's day is approaching this other idea popped up hehehe, so I might as well take advantage of it.

Also, this is a two part thing. As of now, the second part is scheduled for... you guessed it, the 14th 😂

warnings: none. fluff. a lil bit of heartbreak, but nothing too serious. more to come on the second part.

All I got to say is, this went a completely different direction than I expected. We shall see if it pays off.

Without further a do, happy reading!

taglist: @sureconfused

part 2.

It’s rare when the faculty allows students to take control of anything outside of their studies and training.

But there were occasions they allowed it, especially in those where they’d not only prove they’re much better academically than any other institute, but also humiliate their sister school in their annual exchange event.

Which is exactly what happened last summer, an undisputable victory to remain for the years to come as the worst defeat Kyoto has ever experienced.

Taking this into consideration, the school thought it only deserving for the students to be compensated.

What the Tokyo school ended up choosing as a reward was a trip to one of the popular theme parks in Japan, but to afford such trip without having to choke the higher ups with their expenses, the students began to plan out ways to increase their budget.

Luckily for them, the money hungry Mei Mei knew exactly what to do.

Thus, preparations soon began to plan out, starting with decorations and activities that would not only incentivize students to participate, but willingly spend all their hard-earned money (plus an extra for herself.) for something enjoyable in return—all coinciding with the most awaited time of the year.

We’re talking about White Day, of course.

A date that you were naturally also excited for, simply because it was your first White Day since enrolling in jujutsu high.

You had your own motives to be eager, but your enthusiasm simply kept growing thanks to your classmate’s incessant discussion of the plans they set up with their boyfriends, or the guys they were being “courted” by.

“My boyfriend got reservations at this nice place in downtown! We’re going there as soon as our classes are done.” One would say.

“That’s so sweet! There’s this guy I’ve been talking to for a while now—we haven’t done much but I just know he likes me! I’m just hope he’ll confess his feelings today…” Another adds.

“What about you, Y/N? Set your eyes on anyone yet?”

No.

Maybe…

Oh, who are you lying, of course you did!

But you’re not sure he even noticed your presence; let alone your gift on Valentine’s Day. After all, he’s one of the most popular students in the whole school.

You’re talking about Geto Suguru, of course—what you’d consider to be your first crush, the first man that you’ve ever felt these growing feelings for; and with enough luck, maybe even your first love.

He was just… oh, so dreamy. Good looking, but most of all, charming. It’s a mystery how someone like him got along with Satoru at all! Maybe it was some kind of opposites attract type of situation?

Who knows.

Either way, you won’t deny that getting a chance of becoming Suguru’s special someone was equally wonderful, which you hoped would’ve increased with the chocolate you gave him exactly one month ago.

If fate desired so… then today, you’ll get your answer.

And whether you’ve caught someone else’s eye, as well?

You don’t try to get your hopes too high when it comes to that, since you’ve only been here for a few months—not enough time for anyone to develop feelings and pursue you, you know?

Geto was different though, since you’ve known him way before you even considered entering jujutsu high, due to him being your sister’s and Satoru’s (a childhood friend) classmate.

So yeah, you don’t expect much from anyone else this day, outside of… maybe a card here and there, or some sweets from the people that always bring something for the whole class just so they won’t feel excluded—sensei’s included.

And so, when classes begin, you keep reassuring yourself with the following statement Mei Mei’s Cupid Mail Service (or whatever it’s called, with a charge of course) begins to roll in: You were new, not that well known even with your sibling’s popularity, single, but most importantly, that most of the things sent through that service were for the popular kids—or so Hinata theorized.

A great excuse that would’ve kept your sanity intact… had no one else gotten anything.

The ones that didn’t voice their plans, that is, the single ones—and even then, those with a partner still managed to get heartfelt confessions from those daring enough.

«It’s just… well, luck! I think… Besides, don’t they always say that people in relationships are more popular than those that are single? I would never do something like that!» It’s what you tell yourself when seeing one of your classmates, who has a boyfriend, get a rose from the same Cupid Mail Service—and as seen from her rection, not from him. «Yeah… that must be it.»

But your anguish would only deepen when the day went on by and the gifts didn’t stop.

By that point, your sister had gotten a bouquet of roses, amongst some boxes of chocolate she didn’t bother to care for, unless they had come from Yuki-senpai.

Your brother was seen with a large teddy bear but given the grin on his face and the direction he was heading; it was clear this was a gift for his girlfriend.

Gojo and Geto getting gifts even on the day they’re not supposed to doesn’t surprise you anymore—in fact, every day seemed like a holiday to them, so you just ignored them.

Nanami was a heartthrob you did not expect to see flourish, since he mostly kept to himself, but there’s always something alluring about the mysterious, cool characters—you more than anyone else would know that.

However, none of these situations were to be the worst ones yet.

Not to discredit the poor guy, you appreciate him as the excellent classmate he is…

But even Ijichi got a gift!! Like, come on!!

Statistically someone must’ve sent you one thing at least! You’re not even asking to be appreciated by your beauty or anything, it could’ve been just because they thought you were funny or something! A great friend!

Yet, it was not meant to be.

And by the end of the school day, reality slowly began to sink into your mind—accepting that perhaps you were not as likeable as you once believed… and unfortunately, that is something that wouldn’t change, not even if you’d been here since the school was founded.

Not desiring to be seen crying your poor heart out when your feelings are finally pushed to the edge once the last bell rings, you decide to head straight back to the dorms after quickly gathering your utensils, curtly bidding everyone farewells and wishes for an enjoyable evening out, and heading out the classroom—just before you could hear any more of their whispers noting how you didn’t get anything.

Thinking that if you hurried enough, you’d be able to get to your room before anyone noticed the tears already sliding down your cheeks—but alas, there’s always someone in the wrong place at the wrong time, and just as you were to turn around the corner and leave the school building, Mei Mei calls you.

“Off to meet someone in your room? How indecent.” she snickers, noting your unusual adrenaline when traveling across the hallways. At least for someone she knew hadn’t gotten anything planned for the day. “Back in my day, we’d try to do it off campus. But if you want, I know a room—"

“That’s not—I’m not in the mood, Mei Mei.” You murmur, not bothering to turn around to face her while doing your best to hide a sniffle. “I have work to do.”

“I’m sure you do, Y/N.” she says, taking a step closer to you.

“If it’s to get me to spend money on your delivery system, I’m not interested.” You frown. “Why don’t you go ask Hinata? I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to spend all her allowance in things for Yuki-senpai…”

“Already done that—And I got to say, Hinata really is one of my best clients when it comes to it. After Satoru, of course.” She snickers—Gojo has become kind of her personal ATM at this point, he just made it too easy! You remain quiet. “Either way, I’m here for something else. Something relating to you, actually.”

Well, if this day wasn’t odd enough already.

“…What do you want?” you cautioned.

“I got a gift for you—from Cupid himself.”

“What?!” you gasp, sharply turning around to verify her words, dropping your books and breath hitching upon seeing the enormous size of the gift she held in her arms, and all that contained:

A basket filled with all kinds of chocolate, local and foreign, alongside an immeasurable number of roses that almost managed to hide the core: a red teddy bear holding a heart of the same color with the words love stitched onto it.

After being deprived of this attention for hours, it almost felt surreal to suddenly obtain all that you wanted—And not to brag, but this also had to be the biggest gift you’ve seen at school that day!

You genuinely didn’t believe your eyes… and yet, there was still more to come.

And all for you.

“—while the rest are to be delivered to your dorm.” Mei Mei says as a group of her… lackeys, (wait, is that her brother?) brought along more and more gifts—from plushies of your favorite characters, your favorite flowers, and jewelry… to the most surprising piece of all:

Boxes of mochi, of your favorite flavor, taro.

Whoever sent these gestures knew you in somewhat of a personal level, thus, you naturally had to ask—

“Who sent them?” you breathe, unable to hide your excitement at that point; could it be…?

“A secret admirer.” Is all that Mei Mei reveals. “Perhaps.”

“Aw, come on! I mean—you have to know, right?? You’re the one in charge of this!”

“I do… but my services don’t go beyond that.” She smiles—hinting wanting more.

But you suppose that for something as sweet as this, to keep the identity of your unknown aficionado would only be fitting. Partially.

“Could you at least give me a hint?”

Mei Mei only laughs, and you get the idea that it was because of your naivety when it comes to her methods.

And it was, in its majority.

But it was also because she couldn’t believe you didn’t know already!

Of course, this was nothing but obvious for someone who has made it as her personal mission to find dirt on just about anyone she can squeeze out a few yen from.

Especially from big targets like him.

But given the way he behaves around you, and the things he did today, just for your attention how come you hadn’t noticed that the heir of the Zen’in, Naoya…

Likes you?

I don't know if other schools do things like that, but mine did. And I used it once. And I never got a reply. YIKES. But I don't blame him though, that letter was wack lmao. I was only 16 😭 please be merciful.

Anyways, I hope you liked this first part :3 Keep an eye for the second one 👀👀👀

Take care, and hope to see you soon!

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen #i need a tag for the hs au

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moni-logues · 1 year

Text

Kintsugi 1

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 5.5k

Content: no real warnings for this chapter, reader makes a couple of jokes about killing herself/dying

A/N: ahhhhh it's finally here!!!!!! This story has been going around and around in my head since last summer and I am so excited (and nervous lol) to finally be posting it! Unlike with AFL, I am posting this one as I write, so I've only got this first chapter written. I have no planned schedule for updates right now; we're just going to see how it goes.

Enormous thanks to @here2bbtstrash and @btsgotjams27 for beta-ing this one for me and, honestly, turning it from something that was like, fine, to something actually good, that works how I want it to etc.

Masterlist | Chapter Two

Chapter One - Peaches

You wiped your wrist on the tea towel hanging from your waist. The juice from the nectarines and peaches you were peeling was all over: your hands, the counter, threatening to drip onto the floor, to run the length of your arm. You were sticky-sweet and anxious. You tried to focus only on the task at hand, taking it one step at a time. Peel the fruit. Chop the fruit. Place the fruit on the pastry base.

You grabbed the knife with still sticky hands and cut the flesh from the stones. You tried to do this neatly, elegantly, so the resulting slice of fruit would look pretty in the finished pie. Your knife skills were still not really up to it.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you whispered, resigning yourself to the fact that this would be a very ‘home-made’-looking dessert – as was everything you baked.

Peach and nectarine pie. When you first made this as a crumble, almost a year ago, Yoongi tried to call it ‘peachtarine’, but you were not convinced the name worked. It was also nearly a year ago that you and he first met. You would never have imagined that a chance meeting would have given you one of the most important people in your life. There were so many little things that had to happen to put you both in that room on that night. You were grateful that the universe got it together to make it work. You were extremely nervous that you were about to fuck it up.

As you placed the fruit on the pastry in the pie dish, you stared, unseeing, out of the window. The late afternoon sun, dying in the sky, shone bright into your apartment; it highlighted the swirling dust motes in the air, sparkling almost like glitter. The cherry blossoms were falling from the trees as if time were running out. The air was still today so they floated and settled like snowflakes; on windier days, they looked like a blizzard.

It had always felt like such a transitional time. Winter was cold and hard and barren. Not without beauty, but it was dark and difficult and so much easier to hole up in your apartment, hide from the world, forget about sunlight and joy. Then cherry blossoms burst upon the scene, a bright reminder that life still goes on. The trees that had looked desolate and empty now embowered with new life. There were two weeks of blossoms everywhere, inescapable. They swept into doorways, fell into your hair, collected beneath the trees like matching rugs. An enormous burst of life after the bareness of winter. Then they all fell and were gone and the weather swept you up in its warm arms as summer arrived again. You liked the cushion, the ushering in, the fortnight in which you could adjust to the world being beautiful again. It was your favourite time of year.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the beeping of the oven. It had reached its required temperature. You finished placing the fruit and carefully slid the pastry lattice over the top. You brushed everything with egg wash and awkwardly elbowed the oven door open, trying not to get your sticky hands everywhere. You slid it in and set a timer. You washed your hands. You washed the dishes. Now all you had to do was wait.

You stood outside Yoongi’s front door, pie held carefully in your hands, breathing deeply, taking a moment to try to soothe your nerves. It was outrageous, you thought, that you could be this nervous. It was Yoongi. On the other hand, it was Yoongi. It was not every day that you confessed to harbouring romantic feelings for one of your best friends. It was not every day that you ripped yourself open and placed your fluttering heart before them, hoping, praying that they felt the same.

It was not every day, but it was today.

You squared your shoulders, shuffled the pie so it rested on the palm of one hand, and used the other to key in the entry code.

“I’m here!” you called as you strode in and shut the door behind you.

You tidied away your cooking stuff, creating as much space as you could. You stacked the drying dishes and equipment on the rack and your tupperware tubs on top of one another, full of still-steaming food. You looked around the room to see how many people were doing as you were: taking both classes. Home-cooking for beginners and baking for beginners. Just one cog in your wheel of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement.

A good handful of people left, their own tupperware clutched in hands or safely tucked into bags; a few new faces arrived. The last of these entered late, after the teacher had begun. You could see him scanning the room and you wondered for a moment if he was lost, the way he was frowning as if confused, looking almost shifty. But he continued on, walking slowly further back into the room, his eyes darting across the counters, looking for a space.

You waved in his direction to get his attention; the only space left was next to you (and you were doing your damnedest not to take that personally). You made sure all of your things were gathered on your side, not encroaching on his. He flicked his eyes to you and then immediately looked away but did eventually take his place beside you with a small nod.

You guessed he was about your age, maybe a little older, and you wondered what he was doing there. You wondered who he was, who he’d be baking for. His dark hair fell like a curtain across his face, blocking him from view. He tapped one slender finger silently against the countertop.

As you peeled the skins from your nectarines, you could feel him looking at you—not just looking at you, but watching you. You turned your head to look back.

“Are you alright?” you ventured, when it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything.

“Those aren’t peaches,” he said simply.

“Oh, no. No, nectarines.”

“But we’re supposed to be making a peach crumble.”

You shrugged.

“Yeah, but they’re almost the same, aren’t they? Except nectarines are nicer, so I chose them instead.”

His eyebrows drew together in a small frown as he continued to watch you disrobe your fruit.

“Gonna tell on me to teacher or something?” you asked with a laugh and he huffed an exhale in response, the corners of his mouth flickering up for a second in something that might almost have been a smile.

“No. I’m just not sure I agree.”

“Oh, well, in that case...”

You took your knife and cut a slice of nectarine, the blade gliding through as if it were butter. You held the fruit sliver up between you and he took it with his mouth, his lips just grazing over your thumb and finger. You swallowed your tiny gasp and watched his face as he chewed and swallowed. He said nothing, but cut a slice from his own peach and popped that into his mouth. Then he sighed.

“Yeah ok, you’re right. Nectarines are better.”

He turned back to his own station, head straight, looking down at his peaches, doing nothing. He tapped his finger again. You took your two remaining nectarines sitting in their bowl of iced water and placed them in front of him.

“You can use them, if you want.”

He looked at you with another frown.

“But you won’t have enough. You need these.”

You stretched across him and took two of his peaches with a shrug.

“It’s a trade. We can make peach and nectarine crumble.”

He grunted but said no more; he simply picked up his peach from the counter and carried on. After a moment, he grunted again: a small thank you. You turned back to your own fruit and continued peeling.

As you began to cut the flesh from the stones, you became aware that he was mumbling something; you glanced at him to see his head cocked on the side, looking upwards, thinking.

“Peachtarine?” he asked, turning to look at you.

“Huh?”

“Peach and nectarine... Peachtarine. It’s not great but I can’t think of anything better.”

You hummed and thought about it yourself.

“I think you’re right that it is the best option but I’m not sure it’s any better than saying peach and nectarine.”

He chuckled and shrugged.

“I’m sticking with it.”

It was all the encouragement you needed. He started talking to you first, technically. If he didn’t want to talk to you, if he didn’t want to be friends, well, too late, he started it.

“I was a little offended, you know, when I found out the first class was going to be crumble,” you began. “And next week is brownies, did you see? I get that this is a beginners’ class, but is it even possible to get this wrong? No one is going to be impressed by something this simple, are they? And what’s the point of going to so much effort if no one will be impressed?”

He didn’t reply but this did nothing to put you off. He had broken the seal and you were absolutely going to flood him with conversation. It was a relief to finally be talking; you didn’t do well in silence.

“I did the class before this one, too: that’s home-cooking for beginners. I’m useless in the kitchen; my bo- ex-boyfriend would gripe about it all the time. And now he’s my ex so I’m spiteful and bitter and learning to cook so I can show him that I actually do know how to take care of myself, y’know? Not that he’s going to know or care. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since I moved the last of my stuff out of our apartment. He’s really washed his hands of me. Which is fine. I get it. I would have done the same. But anyway, that’s why I’m here. Running on bitterness and spite but it’s better than being dead, I guess, right?”

“Are they the only two options?”

Your head span to him in surprise; you hadn’t been sure was even listening to you.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “Sometimes it does feel like spite is the only thing keeping me alive, yeah.” You laughed, harder than you really wanted to, trying to ward off any tension, to make sure he knew you were just joking. “That and now I’ve paid for these classes so I have to stick around until they’ve finished so I get my money’s worth.”

He nodded as he finished sprinkling the top of his dessert with brown sugar and put it in the oven.

“What about you?” you asked as you did the same. “Why are you here?”

You thought he wasn’t going to answer because he was quiet for some time.

“The women my girlfriend works with apparently all have husbands who bake them things to take into the office. I was asked why I didn’t.” He shrugged. “I don’t bake. Never learnt. Until now I suppose.”

“Why do you have to be the one to bake things? If she wants to take stuff to the office, can’t she make it?”

He laughed lightly, a little exhale of disbelief.

“No, that’s not the point. The point is that she wants to go into the office and show off that I’ve made her something. I never do anything for her apparently.”

If you had said it, the bitterness would have been strong enough for him to taste in his own mouth, but he didn’t sound bitter. You thought he sounded resigned. Maybe even sad.

“Yeah, but she could just make them and lie, tell them that you did it.”

“Oh, no, she would never do that. I’m not sure she’s ever picked up a spatula in her life.”

You bit your tongue because, until a couple of hours ago, the same could have been said of you. You were aware that you had been spoilt and were embarrassed that you were a grown adult who didn’t know how to cook even the simplest dishes, but, hey, at least now you were trying. And you never made your ex bake things for you or even cook if he didn’t want to. You could at least manage instant ramen and frequently did (which somehow seemed to annoy him more than having to cook for you). You wouldn’t have starved without him—you hadn’t starved without him. The bitterness you felt about your break-up leaked through and you felt unreasonably annoyed by this woman you didn’t know. You were broken up with for being an incompetent adult and here she was, with a boyfriend who was learning to bake so she could what? Keep up with the Joneses?

“So, neither of you can bake but you’re the only one here even though she’s the one who wants the baked goods. Hmm... Make it make sense.”

He huffed and you couldn’t tell if it was amusement or annoyance, then he ducked down to peer pointlessly into the oven. You took that as a sign to change the subject, so you thrust your hand out to him and introduced yourself. He looked at your hand warily and then took it.

“Yoongi.”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. Sorry your girlfriend is a dick.”

You knew you shouldn’t have said it. It was rude, for one thing. And you weren’t 100% sure it was true, for another. But your tolerance for romantic partners – even ones you didn’t know, had never met – was at an all-time low and, really, who gives a shit what people at work think? Who makes their boyfriend commit to twelve weeks of classes just so you can take a cookie to the office? You didn’t expect a response – a grunt; maybe he would turn his back on you; there was even a chance he might argue and defend his girlfriend’s honour.

He laughed.

“Yeah, me too.”

You weren’t able to stop the bark of laughter that rushed out and you felt a sudden rush of warmth for this stranger, this new friend.

“Well, hey, if you do want to break up with her anytime soon, there is plenty of spite to go around. Misery loves company; you know that, right? And I am fucking miserable.” You kept your expression bright to try to counter-balance the admission and chuckled lightly when he just looked at you.

His mouth was a flat line, expression serious, then it softened and his mouth twitched up at the corners. You were struck by how pretty he was when he let his face open, even a little.

“Here she is! Michelin star chef extraordinaire!”

“Shut the fuck up, Teddy.”

“Ouch, someone’s crabby this morning. Did it not go well?”

You plopped heavily into your seat and shook the mouse to wake your computer.

“No, it went fine. It went well, actually. I’ve made a friend.”

“Oh, have you now? A real friend or is this like every woman you ever meet on a night out where you sa-”

“Yes, a real friend and he’ll be a better one than you, I’m sure.”

“You are crabby! Are you going to fuck this guy or what? Sounds like you need it!”

“Kim Taehyung!”

“What? I haven’t said it for ages! So, let me tell you again: you just need a good rebound-fuck. Is he not attractive?”

You pretended to ignore him as you logged in and pulled up your emails.

“Not attractive, bummer.”

“I didn’t say that.” Your defence was quick, too quick.

“So you do want to fuck him! This is progress; I like it.”

“Will you stop? I don’t need to fuck anyone, ok? I don’t want to.”

“Are you sure? Because if you need it, if you really want me to-” Taehyung scooted closer to you and turned you around, resting his hands on the armrests of your chair, looking at you with his sweetest, most earnest and angelic face. “-I will fuck you.”

You cried out and pushed him away as he cackled.

“I would literally rather kill myself than sleep with you.”

He clutched at his heart as if you had stabbed him and replied in song.

“Don’t go breaking my heart!”

You wanted to resist. You wanted not to sing back to him. You wanted, for once, to not be one of the two most annoying people in the office. But you can’t always get what you want.

“I couldn’t if I tried!” you trilled back.

“Oh, honey, if I get restless-”

“Baby, you’re not that kind.”

You grinned at each other, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“Oooh ooh! Nobody knows it!” you belted together.

“When I was down-”

“I was your clown!”

“Wow, someone’s got that Friday feeling!” your director called as she walked from her office at the end of the room. She clocked you with a raised brow. “Might have known it would be you two.”

“Oooh ooh! Nobody knows it!” you cried after her before collapsing into giggles and, eventually, turning back to your work.

“I’m serious, though,” you said. “I’d rather kill myself than sleep with you.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual, darling, as you already know. My point is that you should-”

“Sleep with someone, anyone, yeah I know.”

“I’m not trying to push you to do something you don’t wan-”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing!”

“No! Alright, maybe a little, but I think it would be good for you. We’ve talked about this and I dropped the subject but now you’ve met someone new, someone who might be a good... distraction, rehab, palate cleanser.”

“That’s a gross way to talk about a person, Teddy.”

“Not if they’re on the same page. Not if it’s mutually beneficial. I know you feel like you aren’t ready for it but, honestly, I think you’re going to feel that way until you do it and, once you have, you’ll realise you were worrying over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. I have slept with one person in the last four years. It’s not nothing to... to open yourself up and... display yourself in front of someone, some stranger.”

“You’re taking it too seriously; you don’t have to open up. You don’t even have to take your clothes off: go out in a short skirt, pull your underwear down, and away you go!”

“That is so crass. I have more class than that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

You sighed. A part of you knew Taehyung was right. You just had to get back on the horse. Like riding a bike. Maybe. But your bike had changed since the last time someone new saw you naked. And you didn’t really want to just fuck someone, anyone. You wanted someone to love you. And that felt about as distant a possibility as going to the moon.

It was Friday and you did not want to be made miserable before 10am.

“Besides,” you said, hoping it would put a stop to the conversation. “He has a girlfriend.”

“Ah, alas.”

“Though I don’t think he’s happy with her.”

“Oh dear. I think I see where this is going. Please do not interfere in this man’s private life.”

“I’m not going to! I’m just saying! I called her a dick and he laughed.”

“I’m sorry, you called this stranger’s girlfriend a dick? And you expect me to believe you’re not about to interfere? Just because you are bitter and alone does not mean everyone else has to be.”

“Hey!”

“I’m just saying: you’ve met this guy and you’ve known him for all of two hours and you’ve already decided his relationship is trash and his girlfriend is a dick and you would love for them to break up so that you aren’t the only one who got dumped, so that you know other people are also miserable and bitter and you can lean into those feelings rather than facing the fact that you are heartbroken and lonely.”

You dropped your head into your hands and groaned.

“Didn’t fancy giving me some sugar with that pill? It’s Friday.”

“So come out with me tonight and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Buy me three.”

“Two.”

“Deal.”

Yoongi was late to the second class, too. You had deliberately saved the space next to you and you waved him over as before. As before, he barely glanced at you before taking his place. As soon as the teacher had finished talking, you started. You were not trying to interfere in his personal life; you were not trying to fuck him. You were just trying to be his friend.

“Did your girlfriend like the crumble?” was your opening gambit. “Not exactly something she could take into the office to share out, but still.”

There was a pause before he answered, just long enough that you thought he wasn’t going to.

“She didn’t eat any.”

You immediately dropped your sieve and turned to him.

“What do you mean she didn’t eat any?”

He shrugged.

“She said she didn’t want any.”

You blinked, buffering, trying to understand.

“I don’t understand; I thought she wanted you to take this class?”

He shrugged again.

“Well, she’ll have something to take to the office this week, if she wants it... Everyone loves brownies,” you offered, conciliatory, sensitive to Taehyung’s accusation that you might be interfering, trying to find the benefit of the doubt to give this woman.

There was no response from Yoongi, so you dropped the subject. It wasn’t often that you were lost for words, that you didn’t know what to say, but your mind was blank.

Well, it wasn’t blank, but you were not going to actually say any of the things that you were thinking. That his girlfriend was taking advantage of what was clearly a loving nature; that she was ungrateful; that he should stop trying so hard to please someone who didn’t seem to care about him; that their relationship seemed unequal and he was on the losing side. All sorts of things that you didn’t really know, that were clearly products of your own situation, things you were projecting onto this stranger and his girlfriend when you had no right to do so. You might have been right, but you might have been wrong and, even if you were right, there’s a time and a place for telling people the truth they might not want to hear. This was not it.

Yoongi cleared his throat as he gently tapped his sieve.

“So, what illicit ingredient have you brought this time?”

His smile was small and unsure; yours in return was wide, bright, all teeth.

“I simply do not know what you are talking about.”

“You don’t expect me to believe you’re just going to... follow the recipe?”

“You can believe whatever you like, sir. I’m just here to learn.”

As you spoke, you dipped your hand into your bag and retrieved a box of toasted walnuts. Not in the recipe. But, as far as you were concerned, a brownie without nuts was an inferior brownie and you were not about to make inferior brownies.

Yoongi chuckled.

“If you will look here,” you instructed, gesturing to the box, “you will note that this is really, far too many for just one person to use...”

Yes, you had bought extra walnuts just in case Yoongi showed up again, just in case he took the space next to you, just in case he wanted them. You had told yourself that it made sense to buy the bigger box; it was better value; you would have plenty left over to make the brownies again sometime... But you couldn’t deny that you were thrilled; he was here and talking to you and making jokes as if you really were real friends. You could already imagine yourself telling Taehyung tomorrow, smug and obnoxious because you had made a real friend like you said.

Yoongi grimaced.

“My girlfriend’s allergic to nuts.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

An awkward silence arrived and you did your best to shrug it off.

“Maybe next time, then. I’ll make a note.”

You noticed that he looked apologetic and you tried to take it in your stride. It wasn’t personal; it was biological. You weren’t trying to interfere in his personal life and that included not poisoning his girlfriend. It was fine.

You moved the box back onto your side and returned your attention to sifting flour and cocoa powder.

“So how did you like the crumble? I assume you at least tried it.”

“Yeah, it was nice.”

“I thought it was pretty good,” you replied. “The first portion anyway. The second was pretty good, too, but by the time I finished it, I honestly never wanted to see a peach or nectarine ever again!”

“You ate all of it?” His eyebrows raised on his forehead in disbelief, an incredulous grin on his face.

You blushed.

“I mean... not all at once. It took me a couple of days... You might say I could have invited friends over to share it out and you would be right, but I simply did not do that.”

He laughed.

“I did do that. They liked it, too.”

“Oh wow, look at you, Mr I’ve Got Friends Who Eat My Desserts. Some of us accidentally choose to eat an entire dessert by ourselves, ok? No need to rub it in.”

He laughed again and you felt the glow of his approbation like the warmth of sun on your skin. This wasn’t why you were taking the classes—you really did want to learn to cook, to self-improve, to become a fully competent adult—but you knew that, even if you dropped out tomorrow, if you had one more friend to show for it, it would all have been worthwhile.

You chatted as you baked; you tried hard to curb your impulse to steamroll over the conversation, to motormouth your way out of this new friendship. Yoongi was sweet and a little shy and you didn’t want to scare him off, didn’t want to annoy him, didn’t want your desperation to seep out of your pores and cling to him like smoke. No one likes stinking of smoke.

At the end of the class, you carefully scooped a still-warm brownie from your pan and wrapped it in tin foil; you put it to the side while you cleaned and tidied everything away, then you handed it to Yoongi.

“Your girlfriend might have to suffer inferior brownies, but you don’t.”

He blinked in surprise, his eyebrows slightly raised, his mouth slightly open, and looked down at your offering.

A sudden panic hit you.

“Unless she’s like, freakishly, deathly allergic to them and will die if you kiss her having eaten nuts or something.”

You shifted your arm back slightly and looked at him questioningly.

“Or, obviously, if you just don’t want it, you don’t have to take it. I just thought- since-...”

He reached out for the brownie, almost tentative, as if he was expecting you to whip it out of his reach at the last second. You didn’t. He took it. He placed it on top of his things and his mouth twisted as he looked at it.

“Thank you,” he said, his face more of a frown than a smile. Then he nodded, took his things, and left.

You weren’t sure what to make of the exchange. You felt like you had got something wrong, but you didn’t know what. It had all been going so well; you couldn’t possibly have ruined it, could you?

You did not gloat to Taehyung the next day. You kept it to yourself, a small needle of anxiety pricking you whenever you thought of that stupid brownie. A bigger needle pricking you when you thought about your next class.

Your anxiety was proven right. Yoongi was late again – as, apparently, he always was – and you began talking again as soon as your teacher had stopped but, this time, Yoongi didn’t talk back.

“How did the brownies go down? Did she take them into the office?”

Silence.

“Obviously, I can only speak to my own, superior, nut-filled brownies, but I was very happy with them. So happy, in fact, that—can you guess what I’m about to say? Yes, I absolutely ate them all myself!”

You laughed, a little too loud, heat prickling up the back of your neck and onto your cheeks as he still said nothing. You swallowed hard and tried to suppress the anxiety which was bubbling in your stomach.

“I tell a lie,” you continued, self-conscious but not yet defeated. “I did take one in to work on Friday for my best friend. He pretended they were disgusting but that’s just what he’s like; he ate the whole thing so it can’t have been that bad! He actually a- oh, wait, hold on...”

You had been operating on autopilot which for someone with almost no baking know-how or experience was very dangerous. You grabbed the recipe to double-check what you were doing and the silence felt stifling around you. You wished he would say something, anything, even if it was telling you to shut the fuck up. A better person might have given up. A better person might have understood his signal that he didn’t want to talk and listened to it. You were not a better person. The sick need for his approval crawled its way into your throat and spoke for you, made a ventriloquist dummy out of you. Even as you wished, yourself, that you would be quiet, even as you heard yourself, the cheer in your voice more and more forced as his resolute silence strengthened, thickened, grew around him like briars, warding you off, threatening, you carried on.

“He asked me to make them again, actually. I told him where to go because I originally asked him if he’d take this class with me, y’know, for moral support, after my break-up and everything—he is supposed to be my best friend, after all—but he refused, point blank. So, naturally, I told him he would not be getting to sample any of the delicacies I would be making. Then I went and gave him a brownie! Because, of course, I’d forgotten that I’d sworn not to...”

You managed to monologue your way through half the class, but once the fairy cakes were in the oven and the utensils and bowls washed and dried and you had nothing left to do with your hands, you gave up. You sat on your stool and leant on the counter, counting the seconds, trying to will the shame and embarrassment away. You were sticky with nervous sweat, hot and flushed, flustered. You were embarrassed and, in turn, embarrassed by your embarrassment; he clearly didn’t care, so why did you? You couldn’t answer the question except to say that you just did.

The silence was thick and crushing around you until the end of class. Yoongi packed his things with lightning speed and was the very first to leave the room. You took your time, fussing and dawdling, and were the last. It shouldn’t have crushed you. It shouldn’t have mattered at all. You didn’t know each other. You could just as easily have gone the rest of your life never meeting him.

But it did matter to you. It did hurt. Especially because last week had been so nice, so promising; last week, he had felt like your friend. And then you’d gone and spoilt it all, but you didn’t even know how. You had wracked your brain all week, but you couldn’t think of a single reason that that brownie should have ruined everything. It didn’t make sense; it made you feel lost and stupid and exposed and embarrassed and a thousand feelings that you had shoved aside in the months since your break-up.

You reminded yourself every day of all the things your therapist was trying to teach you: it’s ok if people don’t like you; you can’t please everyone; please for the love of god stop catastrophising your entire life (that one you paraphrased). But it didn’t really help. You were taking this one very personally and nothing was going to stop you.

[21:17] Teddy 🐻: Not everyone wants more friends. Some people just want to get through the day and make it home.

[21:18] You: Maybe.

Your phone buzzed again and Taehyung was calling you. You rolled your eyes; that man was incapable of having one single conversation over text.

“Besides which,” he began, not even pausing to say hello. “You said he might be having relationship problems. Maybe he’s having problems at work. Or family issues. Or personal issues! Or all of the above! You don’t know what’s going on in someone else’s life. Maybe he doesn’t want to spill his guts to a total stranger.”

“He doesn’t have to spill his guts!” you protested and you could hear the whine in your voice. “I just want to be friends.”

“And he doesn’t.”

Chapter Two

#yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fic #yoongi #bts

454 notes · View notes

wavypotatochips · 11 months

Note

heyy how are you ??? i had an idea for a neymar imagine, maybe yn is a famous singer and they met in like 2014 at the start of their fame and started hooking up and actually secretly fell in love but they had to break up and stuff bc of their busy schedules. then they meet again 8-9 years later when he goes to her concert with the rest of the psg squad and they tease him bc he's in love with her again but yn and him end up happily ever after and are like an it couple now !! its a long request ik , feel free to ignore it 💞💞

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 | 𝐍𝐞𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐉𝐫

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Neymar Jr x Female Reader

Word Count : 5.6k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: My deepest apologies for the wait, ya girl was going THRUUU IT but its all good now c': and never apologize for long request!! The longer the request, more than likely the longer the response [ I also did not think I would end up writing this much LOL] c: And as always, Thank you so much for requesting!! I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!! LOVE ME SOME NEYNEY MMMMMM

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Requests are currently closed as I am catching up. mwah mwah love ya! ♥

“Like a summer evening under the sun

Oh, darling

And maybe, just maybe

We could fill our memories one by one

Mangoes are candy with you

My donuts and pies need no glazing with you”

You stand in front of your grandmother's restaurant, clutching the microphone in your hand. You've always dreamed of becoming a famous singer, but you know that you have to start small. Luckily, your grandmother has given you the opportunity to sing every Friday night in front of her restaurant. Your passion lies in singing romantic ballads, inspired by the love your Grandmother and Grandfather share. Their bond is pure and timeless, and witnessing it fills you with hope for your own future love story. You close your eyes and begin to sing, pouring your heart and soul into the melody. The audience is small, but their applause is thunderous, and you know that this is just the beginning of your journey to stardom. As you finished singing your final song and thanked the small crowd for their cheers, little did you know that this would be the night that would change everything.

Neymar, a rising soccer star, happened upon your performance while on his way home. The sweet melodies that echoed from your soul drew him in, and he found himself unable to tear himself away. The crowd around you grew insignificant, as his eyes fixated on you and your beautiful features. Your voice enraptured him, leaving him lost in thought as he listened to your songs until the end. Even though he wished it would have never ended. As he made his way home, the memory of your performance stayed with him. Neymar was overwhelmed with unfamiliar emotions, his heart skipping a beat in a way he had never experienced before. He tried to shake off the feeling, knowing that his focus should be on futbol. However, the thoughts of you and your beautiful voice lingered, and he found himself daydreaming about the way your eyes lit up seeing the crowd cheer for you, and your beautiful smile across your face. He knew he shouldn't be thinking like this, but the sparks that flew that night were undeniable and he couldn't resist the pull towards you, even though he has yet to speak with you. His heart raced as he returned to the same spot the next Friday, eagerly hoping to catch another glimpse of you and your voice, and he wasn't disappointed. As soon as he saw you, his heart skipped a beat. He felt nervous and excited all at the same time.

As you begin to sing, the music swirls around Neymar, embracing him in its beauty. Your voice resonates deep within his soul, igniting a fire that only grows stronger with each note. He finds himself entranced by your presence once again, losing himself in the magic you create. The way your lipgloss glistens on your lips while you hold the microphone makes Neymar wish he could feel them against his own, and oh, don't get him started on your beautiful face.

The passion in your performance is undeniable, and Neymar's heart beats faster with each passing moment. The melodies you weave seem to speak directly to him, resonating with dreams and desires he has never dared to acknowledge. He can't help but imagine a life where your voices intertwine in harmony both on and off the stage.

As the final notes of the song linger in the air, you look directly into the crowd. Your eyes land on a pair of hazel eyes, and when you recognize the face they are paired with, you almost don't hold your last note. The moment your eyes meet his, Neymar's heart skips a beat. You quickly look away, finishing your note with a small blush appearing on your face as the crowd erupts in applause. His eyes never leave you as he claps, his admiration and awe shining brightly. He wants to approach you, to tell you how your voice has touched him deeply, but he can't find the words. Instead, he lingers in the crowd, hoping for an opportunity to connect with you.

After the performance, you walk over and grab your small tip jar. Neymar musters the courage to approach you. He catches your eye, and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Nervously, he greets you, "Your voice is really beautiful," he says, going straight to the point. As he is now closer to you than before, you can really see his handsome features. You can't tell if it's due to the full moon tonight or what, but he looks as if he's glowing—truly mesmerizing. Hearing him let out a small laugh makes you realize you've been staring at him for a bit without giving a response. You shake your head briefly, letting out a small laugh, "T-Thank you so much," you stutter slightly, not used to someone as attractive as him trying to talk to you. Neymar finds it adorable, causing his smile to widen. He says, "Of course, pretty," biting his bottom lip as if contemplating on saying something. "Hey, are you about to go do something?" You shake your head no. "Would you like to join me for some ice cream?" He points down the street. "There's a street vendor down the street, and his homemade ice cream is amazing!"

As Neymar stands there, awaiting your response, a whirlwind of thoughts collides in your mind. Is this really happening? Are you being asked out right now? It feels like a scene lifted straight from a romantic movie or the pages of a captivating novel. The rush of emotions surges within you, and you pinch yourself inwardly to ensure you're not dreaming. You steady your voice and respond with a composed smile, "Sure, I wouldn't mind. Just give me one moment; I have to let my Grandmother know so she doesn't freak out." He smiles, nodding his head. "Of course, take your time."

You find it hard to believe that you, an ordinary person with dreams and aspirations, are about to embark on an unexpected adventure with someone as incredibly handsome as him. It's a surreal moment that surpasses anything you've ever imagined

You quickly make your way over to your grandmother, who has been observing the interaction from afar. Her eyes twinkle with a knowing look as you share your plans with her. "Grandma, I'm going to get ice cream with a friend. Don't worry, I'll be back soon," you assure her, though your own excitement and uncertainty are evident. She raises an eyebrow cheekily and questions, "A friend, huh?" You feel a blush creep onto your face once again as you hand her your tip jar. "Bye Grandma, I love you," you say with affection. She smiles warmly and replies, "I love you too, baby. Don't be back too late! I may need help preparing Caldo Verde for tomorrow." You nod in agreement as you share a heartfelt hug, feeling her soft kiss on your cheek.

As you make your way back to Neymar, you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nerves. He waits patiently, his gaze fixed on you, and it both thrills and unnerves you. You take a moment to compose yourself, straightening your posture and gathering the courage to face this newfound connection head-on.

"Ready?" Neymar questions with a playful glimmer in his eyes, his smile mirroring your own anticipation. You nod your head, unable to contain the excitement bubbling within you. "Yes, I'm ready," you reply, feeling a surge of butterflies flutter in your stomach. As the two of you begin walking towards the ice cream vendor, a comfortable silence settles between you. The air is filled with a mix of warm summer breeze and the sweet scent of blossoming flowers, creating a picturesque setting for this enchanting encounter. Neymar breaks the silence with a mischievous smirk, "You know, I have a feeling this ice cream is no match for the sweetness of your smile." His playful tone tugs at your heartstrings, and you play along, batting your eyelashes. "Oh, is that so? Well, I guess I'll have to make sure to smile extra sweetly then," you reply, feigning innocence, as a light-hearted teasing dance begins. As you continue walking side by side, the banter between you becomes effortless. Neymar teases you about your favorite ice cream flavors, suggesting that your taste buds might be missing out on the full experience. You counter his playful jabs with witty comebacks, keeping the atmosphere light and carefree. In between the laughter and teasing, you share snippets of your dreams and aspirations, exploring the depths of your personalities with genuine curiosity. Neymar listens intently, his eyes sparkling with amusement and admiration. He peppers the conversation with compliments that make your cheeks flush, but you appreciate the way his words make you feel seen and valued. The ice cream vendor finally comes into view, and Neymar playfully nudges your arm. "Alright, it's decision time. Choose wisely, because I have a feeling my taste buds won't settle for anything less than extraordinary." You playfully roll your eyes, pretending to contemplate your options. "Well, I'll have to find something that matches your extraordinary standards then," you quip back, sharing a mischievous smile. Together, you approach the cart, ready to indulge in the delightful treats it has to offer. As you savor the flavors and continue to exchange playful banter, you can't help but feel a deepening connection forming, one that is built on shared laughter, light-hearted teasing, and the promise of a captivating journey ahead.

Over the next few weeks, the bond between you and Neymar deepened with each passing day. What started as a chance encounter at your grandmother's restaurant blossomed into a whirlwind romance that neither of you could have anticipated. Laughter, shared interests, and stolen glances became the foundation of your connection.

As the days turned into months and the months turned into years, your relationship with Neymar grew stronger. You supported each other's dreams wholeheartedly, and as fate would have it, both of you began to ascend the ladder of fame in your respective careers. Neymar became a household name as a professional heartthrob soccer player, captivating audiences with his skill and charm on the field. Meanwhile, your voice enchanted millions around the world, elevating you to the status of a renowned singer, captivating hearts with your soul-stirring performances. Life seemed perfect. Together, you conquered milestones, basked in the adoration of fans, and reveled in the love that intertwined your lives. But as the demands of fame and the pressures of your individual careers increased, the delicate balance between love and ambition became increasingly challenging to maintain. With Neymar's soccer schedule becoming more demanding, you found yourselves constantly rescheduling dinner dates, postponing moments meant for just the two of you. The promises made in the early days of your relationship were slowly overshadowed by the unrelenting obligations of his profession. Though he tried his best to juggle both his career and your relationship, the constant conflicts began to take a toll on your connection. The realization hit you like a tidal wave crashing against the shore—you and Neymar were slowly drifting apart. The time you once cherished together became fleeting, filled with missed opportunities and unfulfilled promises. It wasn't that the love between you had faded; it was simply suffocated by the relentless demands of fame. After much soul-searching and tearful conversations, you both came to a heartbreaking decision. It was time to let go, to release each other from the expectations and sacrifices that had weighed you down. The breakup was bittersweet, a mixture of pain and gratitude for the beautiful memories you had created together. In the aftermath, you focused on healing and rediscovering yourself as an individual. It wasn't easy, as reminders of Neymar and your past love were scattered throughout your daily life. But as time passed, wounds slowly healed, and you found solace in your music, pouring your emotions into your performances. Years went by, and both you and Neymar continued to rise in your respective careers, reaching new heights of success. The memories of your time together became a part of the tapestry of your lives, lessons learned and cherished moments that shaped you. Sometimes, the universe has its own plans, and the timing just isn't right. Despite the heartache of your breakup, you both emerged stronger and more resilient. And who knows, perhaps one day, when the stars align and destiny weaves its magic, your paths may cross again, reigniting the flames of a love that once burned so brightly.

8 years post breakup -

Yesterday, In the PSG team locker room, the players gathered around as the coach announced the upcoming charity event.

"Listen up, boys," the coach began, his voice commanding attention. "We're hosting a charity event tomorrow, and it's mandatory for all of you to be there. It's going to be a fantastic evening with a live concert, though I'm not sure who the performer is yet. So make sure you're ready to represent PSG and make a difference."

Today, the charity event was in full swing. The venue sparkled with elegance, adorned with dazzling lights and an air of anticipation. Neymar, Messi, and Mbappé, dressed in their dapper suits, found themselves caught up in the excitement as they engaged in a brief interview, capturing the attention of reporters and fans alike.

The interviewer, with a microphone in hand, directed a question towards Neymar. "Neymar, the event tonight is for a noble cause. How do you feel about being a part of it?"

Neymar's eyes lit up with a genuine smile as he replied, "It's an incredible feeling to be involved in such a meaningful event. Giving back to the community is something we all believe in, and to have the opportunity to make a positive impact is truly special."

The interviewer nodded in agreement, then continued, "And there's a lot of speculation about who the surprise live performer is. Any guesses or wishes?"

Neymar chuckled, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Well, I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, but I'm personally hoping for a remarkable singer with a voice that can touch your soul."

Messi and Mbappé joined in the lighthearted banter, playfully speculating on the potential performer, their camaraderie evident in their laughter and easygoing exchange.

As the interview came to a close, Neymar glanced around the buzzing venue, feeling a sense of nostalgia.

Because he didn't want to bring up the subject of you, Neymar has solely avoided concert settings since the breakup, besides from clubs of course. You and him had made the difficult decision to part ways after the breakup, believing that distance and limited contact would help heal the wounds and move on with your lives. The initial separation was challenging for both of you, as the absence of each other's presence left a void that seemed impossible to fill. Neymar, in particular, found it hard to adjust to the new reality of not having you by his side. The nights felt lonelier without your comforting presence, and the routine of sharing his life with you became a bittersweet memory. Six years spent together had forged a deep connection, and it was no easy task to sever those ties completely.

He couldn't help but wonder if fate had a role to play in this event, if there was a chance encounter awaiting him amidst the excitement and the live performance.

Little did Neymar know, the past and present were about to converge in a way he could never have anticipated, igniting a spark of hope and possibility that had long been dormant in his heart.

~Meanwhile, backstage.~

"The stage is set, and the mic is ready," your manager's voice resonates with a mix of excitement and apprehension. As she carefully adjusts your earpiece, you take a deep breath, feeling the surge of anticipation building up inside you. The designer crew hovers around you, their skilled hands putting the final touches on your breathtaking white dress. The delicate lace patterns cascade down its flowing silhouette, accentuating your elegance and radiating an ethereal beauty that perfectly complements your stage presence.

Though the specific details of the event remain unknown to you, you're aware that it's for a charitable cause, reaching a vast audience through the live stream. The whirlwind of your busy tour schedule has left little time for you to delve into the specifics, but the opportunity to contribute to a worthy cause fills you with a profound sense of purpose and joy. As your manager steps away, you catch a glimpse of her biting her bottom lip—a subtle sign of nerves. At first, you assume it's merely her concern for your well-being after the grueling tour, wanting to ensure you don't overexert yourself. Unbeknownst to you, however, she carries a deeper worry in her mind. She's aware of your past with Neymar, knowing that the unexpected encounter with him at this event could awaken dormant emotions and memories. The stage manager signals that it's time to make your entrance. Taking one last glance in the mirror and adding a final touch to your hair, you stride toward the stage. As the curtains part, revealing the dazzling setup, you step forward, your presence commanding the attention of the audience. The spotlight finds you, casting its warm glow upon you, as you raise the microphone to your lips.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" Your voice resonates through the air, instantly capturing the attention of the crowd. Gasps of surprise and the sound of hands clapping reverberate throughout the venue, a testament to the unexpected delight of your presence. A warm smile graces your face as you soak in the genuine excitement that fills the room. Taking a moment to appreciate the sea of faces before you, you turn your gaze towards the camera, ensuring that your message reaches not only those in the venue but also the countless viewers joining from afar.

"Tonight, we come together for a cause that holds a special place in my heart." Your voice carries a depth of sincerity, inviting the audience to truly grasp the significance of the moment. You pause for a moment, allowing the words to sink in.

"I want to extend a heartfelt thank you to ChildLifeMatters for the incredible work they do in raising awareness and supporting children in need. Together, we have the power to make a difference, to bring hope and joy into the lives of those who need it most. Tonight, through the universal language of music, we unite in spreading love, compassion, and raising awareness for a brighter future."

The applause swells, filling the room with a wave of appreciation and support. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment, but also the strength of the cause that fuels your passion.

Little do you know, the universe has orchestrated a twist of fate for this event, preparing an unexpected reunion with Neymar that lies just around the corner.

"Neymar, hurry up! I am not going to get yelled at by the coach because of you," Marquinhos exclaims, playfully nudging Neymar as he catches him taking yet another selfie. The team is eager to head to the main venue area for the charity event.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go," Neymar mutters, reluctantly sliding his phone into his back pocket. As he approaches the stage, a flicker of recognition crosses his face, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. He quickly dismisses the thought, attributing it to his mind playing tricks on him.

Entering the bustling venue, Neymar exchanges greetings with his teammates, their eyes twinkling mischievously as they observe his slightly puzzled expression. Kylian, in particular, nudges his head towards the stage, hinting at something intriguing. Curiosity piqued, Neymar turns around, and in that moment, his heart feels as if it bursts out of his chest.

There you are, standing confidently on the stage, a vision of grace and talent. Mesmerized, Neymar's gaze locks onto you, and a flood of memories rushes back, transporting him to a time when you were once intertwined in each other's lives. The familiar warmth and tenderness resurface, evoking emotions he thought he had long buried.

"Whoa, Neymar, is that your lost love?" one teammate playfully teases, unable to resist the opportunity for some light-hearted banter.

A slight blush colors Neymar's cheeks, but he manages a playful smirk, attempting to brush off the teasing. "Lost love? Nah, just an old friend," he responds, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and curiosity.

However, his teammates aren't fooled by his nonchalant demeanor. They exchange knowing glances, their playful expressions betraying their understanding of the emotions swirling within Neymar's heart.

As the banter continues among his teammates, Neymar's attention remains fixated on you, the focal point of the stage. He can't help but be captivated by your presence, the way you command the attention of the audience with every note and movement. It's as if time has stood still, and all that matters in this moment is the magnetic pull between the two of you.

Memories flood Neymar's mind, snapshots of laughter, shared dreams, and stolen glances. He recalls the way your voice used to fill his world with joy, how it resonated deep within his soul. The bond they once shared was unbreakable, and even after all these years, the connection still lingers, refusing to fade away.

Lost in the rush of emotions, Neymar finds himself longing for the chance to rewind time, to rekindle the fire that once burned between you two.

As you found yourself on stage, surrounded by the dreamy backdrop that perfectly complemented the ethereal atmosphere, your heart raced with anticipation. The familiar melodies of the song flowed through your veins, but as your mouth opened to sing the first note, your voice momentarily faltered. Your eyes locked with Neymar, a magnetic connection that transcended the sea of faces in the crowd. It felt as if time stood still, and in that moment, memories flooded back, crashing over you like a wave. Images of laughter, shared moments, and the love you once held together washed over your mind. The depth of emotion in Neymar's gaze mirrored your own, and you couldn't help but offer him a small, knowing smile—a silent acknowledgment of the bond you once shared. You start singing,

“ I never thought you'd be the one

To hold my heart

I never knew I'd think of you

Each time that we're apart

Each Day

I'll be the one missing your face

And all that you are

Save me

I promise I'd stay here by your side

And I know from the start

When I look into your eyes

I know that I'm mesmerized

Baby

Just hold me

When you're here I realized

I'll be the one to testify

Baby

Say that you're mine tonight.”

With every word that poured out of your soul, you poured your heart out to the world, including Neymar. The lyrics resonated with the depths of your emotions, speaking to the love that still lingered within. You were unafraid to let your eyes linger on Neymar, disregarding the curious glances from the crowd who assumed your gaze was lost among the many faces. Neymar, however, knew. He felt the intensity of your gaze, and his heart raced in response.

But soon, you broke the enchanted connection, letting your eyes wander across the sea of faces before you. The crowd erupted in applause, their appreciation evident. You couldn't help but steal glances at the cameras, ensuring that your performance reached those watching through the live stream, while still cherishing the shared moments with the live audience.

In that moment, the stage became a place where the past intertwined with the present, where your music became a conduit for unspoken emotions, and where destiny gently guided your paths to intersect once again.

As the melody of your voice fills the air, Neymar's heart beats in sync, each note igniting a flicker of hope within him. He wonders if you still remember the love you two shared, if the memories that haunt him also linger within you. The desire to reach out, to bridge the gap between them, grows stronger with every passing second.

But for now, Neymar remains rooted in his seat, a swirl of emotions beneath his composed exterior. He continues to watch, mesmerized by your performance, caught in a bittersweet symphony of longing and admiration. The teasing remarks from his teammates fade into the background, as all that matters is the connection he shares with you, a connection that time and distance could never truly erase.

As you continued to serenade the crowd with several more enchanting songs, the energy in the venue soared. The atmosphere crackled with excitement as your voice resonated through the air, captivating hearts and inspiring generous donations for the charitable cause. You effortlessly engaged with the audience, sharing smiles, laughter, and heartfelt moments that deepened the connection between you and your fans.

After the fifth song, you took a moment to address the crowd once again, expressing your gratitude for their support and encouraging them to embrace the upcoming performance by the next artist. The spotlight gracefully shifted, illuminating the stage for the next singer, and you stepped aside, basking in the sense of accomplishment that washed over you.

As you made your way backstage, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts consumed your mind. Neymar's presence had awakened a dormant flame within you, stirring a mix of nostalgia, curiosity, and a hint of longing. Memories of your time together intertwined with the energy of the performance, leaving you with a bittersweet yearning for what once was.

Meanwhile, as soon as you exited the stage, Neymar's teammates seized the opportunity to playfully tease him. Their mischievous grins and banter revolved around your beauty and their supposed attempts to secure your phone number. Their intentions were light-hearted, aimed at evoking a hint of jealousy in Neymar, but his response was measured and composed.

Neymar, briefly acknowledging their teasing, gracefully brushed it off with a confident smile and a witty remark. Deep down, however, his heart raced, urging him to find you once more. He swiftly excused himself from the camaraderie of his teammates, determined to catch up with you and unravel the feelings that had reawakened in his soul.

As Neymar dashed through the backstage corridors, his mind focused on the mission at hand—to find you, to bridge the gap of time and space, and to confront the emotions that swirled within both your hearts. Destiny beckoned, weaving its intricate tapestry, and the next chapter of your intertwined journey was about to unfold.

As Neymar hurried through the backstage area, his heart pounded in his chest, fueled by a mix of anticipation, nervousness, and hope. He navigated the bustling corridors, occasionally catching glimpses of familiar faces and hearing snippets of conversations that heightened his eagerness to find you.

Finally, he spotted you standing in a quieter corner, your back turned to him as you engaged in a conversation with one of the event organizers. Neymar's steps faltered for a moment, his gaze fixated on your figure, taking in the way you held yourself with poise and grace. The years apart had done nothing to diminish your magnetic presence.

Summoning his courage, Neymar approached you, his voice laced with a mix of hesitance and sincerity. "Excuse me," he interjected, capturing your attention as the event organizer excused themselves. As you turned to face him, your eyes widened in surprise, a myriad of emotions dancing in their depths.

There was a brief pause, as both of you stood there, speechless, caught in the gravity of the moment. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that intimate space. Neymar's eyes searched yours, finding a familiar connection that reignited the sparks of the past.

"I... I don't even know where to begin," Neymar admitted, his voice filled with vulnerability. "Seeing you up there on stage, it brought back so many memories, so many feelings. It's like time stood still for a moment." You were at a loss for words, so you remained silent. Of course, you shared that sentiment, but for some reason, you refrained from saying anything.

As the weight of the shared history hung in the air, Neymar took a deep breath, his voice filled with a mixture of sincerity and longing. "I've thought about this moment countless times, wondering if we would ever have a chance to reconnect. Seeing you here tonight, it's like a dream come true."

Your eyes met his, shimmering with a hint of apprehension and yearning. "Neymar, I never imagined I would see you again like this. It's been so long, and yet... the emotions, the memories, they're still so vivid……"

A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of Neymar's lips as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "Time may have passed, but my feelings for you never faded. I've carried a piece of you with me all these years."

Your breath caught in your throat, feeling the weight of his words echoing in your heart. The realization of the enduring connection between you filled the space between you, drawing you closer, as if the universe had conspired to reunite your souls.

"I've missed you," you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice matching Neymar's.

His eyes softened, conveying a profound tenderness. "I've missed you too, more than words can express. Life took us on different paths, but my heart never stopped yearning for the love we shared."

As the world continued to buzz around you, the shared moment felt timeless, cocooned in its own universe. It was as if the echoes of the past intertwined with the possibilities of the future, offering a second chance for love to unfold.

"I want to make things right this time," Neymar said, his voice filled with determination. "Let's start anew, together. Of course, we will start off slow. But Baby, I will be such a fool to lose you again.”

A surge of hope washed over you, igniting a spark within. With a smile that reflected both forgiveness and a willingness to embrace the unknown, you replied, "Yes… I think…. I would like that very much."

In that moment, as the world continued to swirl around you both, Neymar and you embarked on a journey of reconciliation and rediscovery. With hearts open to love's infinite possibilities, you stepped forward, ready to rewrite your story, guided by the enduring bond that fate had rekindled.

"Are you doing anything after this?" Neymar's voice carries a playful lilt, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. Your head shakes in response, a smile spreading across your face, mirroring his infectious joy.

"Great. Well, there's this ice cream vendor I know just up the street we could go to," he suggests, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes reflecting the memories of your early encounters. Laughter dances in the air as you playfully hit his chest, a gentle reminder of the playful banter that once defined your connection.

Neymar chuckles, his voice filled with genuine excitement. "What? I'm serious!" His smile widens, his eyes shining with warmth and sincerity. The familiarity of his words resonates deeply, reminding you of the carefree moments you shared when your love story was just beginning to unfold.

A gentle teasing remark escapes your lips. "You are such a dork," you playfully chide, finding solace in the comfort of his arms. As you wrap your arms around his chest, leaning your head against his heartbeat, a sense of serenity envelops you.

With graceful tenderness, Neymar tightens his embrace, a silent promise not to let go. In that moment, as the world continues to spin around you, you revel in the joy of rediscovered love, knowing that this time, you and Neymar will create new memories, hand in hand, embracing the dorkiness, laughter, and love that define your extraordinary journey together.

You and Neymar continue to chat, relishing in the familiar comfort and the excitement of a renewed connection. Time slips away effortlessly as you share stories, laughter, and dreams for the future. However, as the event draws to a close, the demands of the evening pull you both in different directions. With a promise to reconnect, you exchange heartfelt goodbyes, knowing that this time, it won't be long before your paths intertwine once again. As you part ways, a sense of anticipation lingers, each step carrying the promise of a future filled with love, happiness, and shared adventures.

True to your word, you begin to rebuild the bridge between you. Messages and calls become more frequent, filled with laughter, shared memories, and a genuine curiosity about each other's lives. Slowly but surely, the distance that once separated you begins to shrink, making way for a blossoming bond that refuses to be ignored.

In the months that follow, your connection deepens and evolves. Dates are filled with laughter, stolen glances, and the sweet nostalgia of rediscovered love. Each moment spent together feels like a beautiful reunion, as if fate has brought you back together to create a love story even more extraordinary than before.

As news of your rekindled romance spreads, Brasil can't help but celebrate the return of their beloved "it" couple. And with every passing day, your bond grows stronger, fortified by the lessons learned from your past and a shared commitment to prioritize each other. Together, you build a foundation of trust, support, and unwavering dedication, creating a love that withstands the tests of time and captures the hearts of millions.

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elix8r · 1 year

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The Frat Diaries Glossary (heads up: I realized while writing that i’m using a lot of lingo that not everyone might be familiar so this should help you out with understanding everything and the story will make more sense esp if you’re not already familiar with Greek life and also this is all based on my personal experiences so it might be different at each school):

Rush: a process where prospective sorority and fraternity members and the actual sororities and fraternities meet each other and through this they pick out the people that they want in their organization. Sorority rush (recruitment) is much more of an organized event where PNMs come weeks before school actually start to rush. They have specified schedules that let them know which sororities to meet. This process is so intricate lmao I literally thought I was dying when I went through it cause everyday I had to wake up at like 5am to get ready and got back to my dorm at like 8pm. Each day the amount of sororities you can get back lessen until the last day where you are left with your top two and you choose from there. Fraternity rush is much more of a laidback event that also happens before school starts. Fraternity rush is more about who you know and connections. Many start inviting potential members over the summer to their houses to see if they vibe well with everyone else. Then during the official week of rush, frats will hold events or dinners that are invite only and from there they narrow their choices before handing out bids.

PNM: potential new member

Pledge: A non-initiated member of a fraternity. He isn’t considered a full-fledged member and this is usually where the “hazing” happens and a good chunk of them are first years

Chapter: a weekly mandatory meeting held at the sorority house where members come and learn about upcoming events and etc.

Initiation: a very very secretive ceremony that is different for every organization but this is where the new members are officially indoctrinated into being a member of the sorority or fraternity. It’s usually really formal (almost cult-like with coordinated dress code, usually long white dresses) and a big deal.

Bid: the official invitation you receive from the sorority or fraternity to join them

Bid day: an important day at the end of rush week where new members run home (sometimes literally) and the sororities throw huge celebrations to celebrate the new members that have received a bid from them

GBig/Big/little: a big is usually an older member of your organization that is a mentor figure that basically takes you under their wing and helps you adjust to your life in Greek. While not always, these relationships are usually one that develops to an actual older sister/younger sister situation. Your GBig would be the big of your big and all together you would refer to everyone in your group as a family and the little would be the new member

Tailgate: pre-game for a big sports game and it usually involves lots of day drinking, barbecuing, yard games, and socializing

Darty: day-party

Formal/Semi-formal: kinda like college prom for fraternities and sororities. Usually held in like some city (New Orleans) or a special place and it’s really fun as you’re probably gonna be drunk at it

Game day pin/stickers: Im not sure that this is a thing outside of the South but because it is a thing everyone has on gamedays i’m going to add it. It’s like pins or stickers that usually showcases your sorority’s support for your school. Pins are worn by the members (and maybe parents or significant others as they aren’t handed out in bulks like the stickers are so if you see someone who isn’t in that sorority wearing a pin, then they probably have a close relationship with whoever gave it to them) and stickers are put on just anyone who wants one. Click this link for some examples.

Letters: the Greek letters for you fraternity or sorority. For example the two main organizations in this story is Epsilon Nu (EN) and Alpha Epsilon Sigma (AEΣ). Many Greek members will be seen sporting their letters on their shirts, hats, computers, backpacks, water bottles, etc.

Dues: how much you pay the organization and it usually covers the cost for the house, meals, membership, etc.

Date Party/Socials/Mixer: social events that usually have a theme or is held with other fraternities. I’ve been to like My-tie, ski lodge, Hawaiian luau, country-club, etc and they’re just a real fun time to socialize and spend time with your fellow sisters

Philanthropy: Usually each organization has a specific charity or awareness they raise money for (ZTA raises breast cancer awareness and Tri-Delt raises money for St. Jude) and there will also be drives or events held to raise money or volunteer

Executive Board: aka exec is the leadership council for your organization. For example: President, VP of Recruitment, Standards chair, etc.

Standards: This is like HR or risk management. This is the board that makes sure the girls follow rules and policies and if they don’t, then you will be called to standards and given consequences based on what you did wrong. Example: I got fined for talking to a PNM who was a friend of mine outside of rush during recruitment week.

Author’s Note: I might add more as I write but seriously if you have any questions do not hesitate to send them my way and i will be more than happy to do my best to try to explain things further also I have made my mind to further expand this universe and create stories with some of the other members! so look out for those in the near future!

#sunghoon smut #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #frat au #fic: pink whitney

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citrustan · 2 years

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lovefool [6/6] (jjk)

pairing: jeon jungkook × reader

genre: angst, fluff (sort of), smut

summary: your boyfriend’s pretty girl best friend keeps hogging up your alone time with him.

word count: 5k

warnings: pretty tame mentions of parental negligence, almost smut at the end.

note: yeaah this is it for lovefool !! um 😁 i had fun writing it! i will add to this au through drabbles as i've already mentioned before :D hope you like it! and sorry it's a little longer than the other parts!

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

There are around a little less than three full sentences that you’ve conjured up to say to your boyfriend. In your haste of being quick (and dramatic) after considering Jungkook’s schedule, you were NOT ready for the conversation you needed to have.

One would assume you’re only running away from your problems which would still be okay because then you’d have time. The time you need to spend, sincerely thinking about exploring your options.

Things may seem bleak now but there’s always daylight after a dark night. Unless, you account for the Arctic Circle during summers, then this analogy doesn’t make sense, but you know you have a thing for cliches and the dramatic.

“_____, bloody shower already! Wash your hair so I can dye it tomorrow!” Sana’s screech brings you out of your thoughts.

“I’m not sure I want to dye my hair, Sana, bleaching itself is scary...” - “Bleaching is the only scary part, genius. And I already bought pink dye and purple shampoo for you!”

“I’m sorry,” you frown.

Sana softens at your guilt-ridden demeanour, “Hey, it’s no biggie, it doesn’t expire until next year. I’m sure I can get Jungkook to convince you. You’ll have matching hair colours! It’s fucking cute, babe.”

Sana smiles sweetly. “Now, shower. Now, now.”

“I will! Soon.” You pout.

“Okay! See you in the hall room.” She pats you on your butt before strutting away.

You swear your indecisiveness is genetic. As much as you’d like to blame your family for yet another thing from a really long list of ‘defects’, it’s pointless and a waste of time. All of this was on you. And Yuna. And Jungkook, but mostly yourself.

Taehyung has called to check on you twice now and unsurprisingly, he refuses to disclose any details about what you might have to prepare for. ‘I’d much rather you speak directly to Jungkook, I really don’t want to risk changing your mind for the worse—or better. Just know I will continue being your friend no matter what comes out of this,’ he had said.

And that got you wondering.

Are you truly prepared for the ‘worse’ outcome?

You don’t want to deal with a breakup and you don’t want to deal with Yuna. It’s highly unlikely that you may never see her or Jungkook again after your presumed, hypothetical breakup. It’d kill you to see Jungkook still around the person who kinda sorta pushed you, his presumed and hypothetical ex-girlfriend, away.

Honestly, deep down, you really wouldn’t blame him if he stuck with her.

If you had a relationship like Jungkook and Yuna’s, you’d struggle to ‘choose’ as well. You don’t expect him to throw away years’ worth of a friendship for or at the cost of a two-month long relationship.

At the same time, you would most likely disintegrate if you saw them become more than just best friends. You almost retch at the imaginary scenario.

How funny would that be? Very not.

Instead of getting yourself worked up over what may be, you Rory Gilmore it up.

You make a ‘pro and con’ list.

It sounds unethical to base your decision to date or not to date on a list of whatever reasons, which could very well end up being shallow and more logic based than your emotions and feelings.

Lucky for you, you don’t have a single logical bone in your body. You’re frantic and last minute. The most planning you can do for this ‘conversation’ is this, no doubt, very trustworthy ‘pro and con’ list.

Jungkook communicates with you solely over text and it’s a lot less frequent than usual. It’s awkward because he doesn’t try to push anything on you and you didn’t expect it.

You can’t help but think he may slowly be pulling away from you.

The distance has done nothing but make you miss him and want him more but you’re worried it’s only because you’re afraid of losses and change. You’re scared he doesn’t feel the same for you. You don’t want to be on a different page than him.

Before you psych yourself out over the possibility of Jungkook not wanting to be with you, you prepare for your little list.

The notepad you use to scribble on was on Sana’s desk, out of your reach.

You frown, not wanting to move from the comfortable blanket and throw pillows you were tucked under.

You think about ringing Sana but you had bothered her enough with tucking you in earlier that day, so you forgo it.

Then, you mentally list your cons of breaking up--- you’d miss him, this would wreck you, it would possibly wreck him, Yuna would swoop in, Jungkook and Yuna would form a hate club and then they would kiss.

The pros would be--- you will not go through an emotional break up that would destroy your routine for a while, Jungkook realises he liked Yuna all along and it’d be harder for him to break it off with you because he is the nicest man you've ever met.

And now, you realise you lack a clarity of thought and all your thoughts are based on your insecurities.

You want to call Dr. Min but it seems a little excessive and spineless to ask him what you should be talking about with Jungkook.

Thought dumping is always an option. You could leave it all up to Jungkook. Whatever his decision is, goes.

This is coming from a very cowardly side of you--- letting other people take control of you and your life. It’s difficult to unlearn something you’re so used to doing. Recognising it is a good first step, though. So says Dr. Min. You owe him your life for the changes he’s making for you.

You confessed to him how grateful you were but he’d insist it was a collaborative effort.

In all honesty, you want Jungkook so badly. You want to be consumed by him, give into him. And if you put your insecurities away, you would stop running from this wonderful man. You can acknowledge his inexperience but it’s not like you’re any better. In fact, you’re more childish than he is. You don’t know any better than he does.

It’s still a young relationship and it’d be such a shame if it ended so suddenly without reason.

The only aspect you need closure in is this inner war you have with yourself.

Again, it doesn’t happen overnight. ‘Rome wasn't built in a day, but it burned in one.’ (I forget who says this.)

You despise those “self love” mantras--- love yourself, you’re beautiful, you’re perfect, believe in yourself, you’re enough, you deserve better--- it’s all a load of bollocks.

You know relationships are hard work, you know you have a lot to sort out within yourself, you know you have a lot to tell Jungkook about yourself and it’s never going to be perfect. Nothing is perfect.

In a way, you’re grateful for the little bumps because it trains you for future adversaries (?) too dramatic? No?

The little tremors reassure you that you’re on the right track. If it were all smooth and seamless, you’d be more suspicious and paranoid. Ironically, those are factors you experience now as well. For a different reason.

“Hey, doll.”

Your eyes blinked open. Was your brain messing with you or did you actually hear Jungkook?

You crane your neck up from the soft pillows. The pillows and blanket did not aid you in any way, pushing you down further.

“Jungkook?”

“I hope you don’t mind me coming to you first---” He paused at your expression.

Your face was a true index of your mind. Erratic. Disbelief. Confused. You swore you had decided to meet the following day.

“See, I waited till today and I couldn’t stop myself.” He continued.

You establish that he’s here. It settles in.

In a way, this is great, you aren’t overwhelmed by anxiety from waiting and overthinking more than you already have.

For some reason, you aren’t upset that he showed up before decided. After all, you did miss him.

Sitting up on your bed, you watch him awkwardly shift his weight from one leg to another, debating on taking a step closer to you.

You’re really happy to see him yet you contemplate running into the bathroom to avoid him for a bit but immediately shoot that thought down.

It’s only insecurity about your appearance. You wished you didn’t look like you hadn’t showered or slept or eaten well in three days.

The silence is so loud when the closing of the front door breaks it, indicating Sana’s leave. She gave you privacy.

“I had begun to forget what you looked like. It’s been so long.” Jungkook almost whispered.

It had been a little over two weeks.

The mention of your looks made you a little self-conscious.

“_____.”

“Hm?”

“Tell me what you’re thinking about... please. Do you want me to leave? I’ll come back tomorrow; I swear.”

You stretch your legs out on the bed, revealing your thick, fuzzy socks and unshaved legs. It didn’t bother you at the moment because you didn’t notice it.

You point to Sana’s bean bag with your toes, directing him to make himself comfortable. You hope she won’t mind and make a note to wipe it down just in case. He obliges.

Discreetly adjusting your night dress over your thighs under the blankets, you stare directly into his panicked looking eyes.

"_____..." He starts again. Bur you cut him off.

“Honestly?” You begin, “I’m a little annoyed.”

“Because of me?” Jungkook points to himself with his thumb.

You frown, “Kind of? But not really. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“No, I meant--- Jungkook, I thought- I had your word. About tomorrow? Not today.” You stutter, unsure of your tone.

“I know- it’s an asshole move to just, ignore you and force you to talk to me and I promise you, I will leave immediately if you don’t want me here. I just wanted to make sure you’re OKAY. I wanted to make sure you’re still… I don’t know- here, with me.” He looks worried but so well rested. Fresh? And pretty.

You would have no idea he was this worried just by looking at him.

You furrow your brows, “I won’t deny that it was an… asshole move, as you put it, but...“ You struggle to maintain eye contact with him. “I am happy to see you. I missed you.”

Those words came as a relief to Jungkook, who now had a small smile graced on his lips, “You are so important to me.” It was the most random afterthought.

Your eyes welled up at that. It wasn’t supposed to happen this early on?#&!@

“That feels good to hear.” You respond weakly. “But, I have so much to tell you. Ask you. But, mostly tell you.” You pause, “I want you to be prepared to take everything in.”

“I promise you, I’m here. I’m with you.” Jungkook extends his hand for you to hold.

You restart your sentence thrice before getting a hang of what you’ve half heartedly rehearsed.

“It’s a shame I don’t have a cocktail in my hand right now,” you nervously laugh.

Jungkook playfully scoffs, “Can I sit with you?” You pause, “No, I haven’t showered yet.” “That’s okay.”

You smile at the ground. “I have to start with, like, my upbringing, my family life, relationship- whatever.”

Jungkook tilts his head forward to indicate he was attentive.

“I haven’t had the best role models as a child. I’m lacking in many ways and I doubt I will ever feel completely confident in myself, at least for now. And none of this is-“ You find an object or something, anything to focus on. To compose yourself. Jungkook’s finger tattoos. His hands distract you for a second before you get back on track. “It’s not your fault. And it’s not your responsibility to make me confident. I know, I’m the only one who can change that.”

You can see it on his face that he disagrees with something you said but the floor is yours at the moment. He respects it.

“So, I’ve never really had anyone tell me that I’m doing okay? I swear I can explain this better...“ You scoff to yourself.

“Don’t worry.” Jungkook reassures you. “You’re good.”

Jungkook contemplates whether or not to ask to sit closer to you. He shook his head and let you lead him instead.

“Wow, I hate being this vulnerable. Ahh….” You pause for only a second or two, not wanting to break your flow.

“I have never been sure about anything in my life, stuff most people would find easy to, uh, operate through. I didn’t know where I’d be now a year ago, I could never plan for anything. I don’t have plans. I don’t have a goal or a dream. And, I didn’t know if that was… normal or okay.”

“You know? Things like, do I want to study more or take a break? What am I good at? What can I do that would help me in any way in life? How do I, I don’t know, grow a backbone…? Am I even stable enough to bring another person into my life?”

“Just the usual stuff.” Jungkook interrupts.

You smile a little, “Sure.”

“Up until I started therapy with this really great psychiatrist. Min Yoongi. That’s his name,” You looked up at Jungkook, feeling your lower lip quiver, “And he- I think, I mean I know this is incredibly weird but he has taught me a lot more in months than my parents have in years.” You squeeze your eyes shut.

You try not to let it affect you but fail. It’s a reaction you’re far too familiar with when you mention or even think of your parents. Even in passing.

A sob escapes your lips. “I feel guilty for talking about them this way. They have given me everything they could. I’m not ungrateful. I don’t want you to think I-”

“_____, I understand what you mean. Nothing you say right now will change my feelings for you.” Jungkook attempts to comfort you.

He was lucky enough to have the privilege of being paid attention to and loved. He knows this very well.

Besides, he wouldn’t dare make assumptions about you even if you kicked a child in their face.

You chew on your inner cheek to stop yourself from breaking down, “I respect my parents as people. I really, really do but I can’t go back to them. I can never do anything right for them and they’ve ruined possibly every future relationship of mine- any kind of relationship- I can’t trust people. It has held me back so many times…”

Jungkook switches his place from the little chair to kneeling on the floor next to your bed. Placing your hands in his, he kisses your forehead.

That simple action does it for you.

It’s like a dam breaking open when you finally give into him.

Your nose is warm, probably red and leaky and your cheeks are wet from the tears. His hands squeeze yours tighter than ever. “It’s okay,” he mumbles over and over.

You gently pull away from him. It has barely been a few, ten to fifteen minutes since he got here and you find yourself getting exasperated--- exasperated at yourself, at your inability to stay stable, to come up with non-nonsensical sentences and at the inability to make a decision for yourself.

You give yourself a minute to breathe. You’re so tired you want to fall back on your bed and go to bed already but you refrain.

Jungkook’s instincts had kicked in.

He’s confronted with a social situation where he’d usually be panicked and confused. But for some reason, he was able to calmly steer through it.

When it suddenly dawned on him; Jungkook wasn’t being his usual defensive self, he didn’t feel cornered by you.

Not like you blamed him at all, he naturally went into ‘dad mode’--- in the most non-creepy way possible. Actually, ditch that metaphor, let’s settle with ‘boyfriend mode’ instead.

He snaps out of his thoughts when you sigh.

“Jungkook, I like you. I can’t help but feel… not enough- inadequate for you. You deserve way better than some childish, stubborn, stupid girl, but I like you so much I can’t navigate--- anything.”

“_____, I wish you could see how perfect you are to me.” He pouts.

“But, I’m not!” You digress.

Grabbing on to his shirt, you sob harder into his chest, “And don’t say things like that.”

“Why not? I really, really like you, _____.”

“Stop it. I’ve hidden so much from you.”

He envelopes your tired body with his sturdy arms. It almost energizes you. He has such strong effects on you.

“Well, it isn’t on purpose that it turned out to be this way. It’s your own defence mechanism, I get that.” Jungkook pulls away from you and grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to stare directly into his eyes, “I know you won’t accept it but none of this, anything, is your fault.” He pauses, “I mean it.”

“But, that’s not everything---”

He squishes your face as if to silence you.

“I’m here until you ask me to leave.” He doesn't stop there. “And even if you were keeping these feelings inside you on purpose, I would never- and I mean never, ever blame you for whatever.” He adds.

You secretly wished he would stop being so lenient.

One would argue that it’s the bare minimum but you still think he’s too good for you. It’s just something you aren’t used to.

Yuna’s involvement has not been discussed yet and you’re dreading bringing it up. You don’t know how he would react to her even though it seems to be going well at the moment. The build up to this moment finally ends.

“I appreciate that,” you whisper. “It’s a work in progress.”

You sit in silence for a few seconds. It isn’t awkward. It’s just weirdly serene and cathartic. The moment is possibly about to be disrupted though.

While you contemplate the beginning of your next snag, Jungkook thinks of telling you about Yuna. He hopes you won’t take it too hard.

“Before you say anything, I know how much she means to you and I’d never ask you to choose between us, ever. I can see that bond you have. I know we probably won’t see eye to eye on this.”

You focus on him, “Yuna does NOT like me. At all. I have accepted it, you should too.”

“Hear me out, before you counter attack--- I have learnt to be okay with Yuna, well… it is still a work in process, but it’s still happening! And I understand that she's your best friend!” You exclaim, low-key convincing yourself of it.

“Hey, give me some credit here.” Jungkook whines. “She came over the other day, I sent her away.”

You visibly freeze.

Things had slowly started piecing themselves together in Jungkook’s head. And, oh, how incredibly stupid he felt. The look on your face says it all. He understands that you weren’t expectant of him to do anything about the ‘Yuna situation’. It embarrasses him.

“What happened? Did she say something?”

“Oh, yeah, she said a whole lot. She even dressed like you,” Jungkook laughed. “It was crazy.”

Crazy? :(

“Crazy? Why?” You sadly ask.

“NO! NOt because of the- ok, no, wait.” He gulps, “She had like a floral dress on and she did her makeup like you do yours. And you usually have the glossy lip thing going on, I know because I love getting it all over me,” Jungkook scrunches his face in false bliss, clutching his chest.

You stare at him in astonishment with your mouth dropped open a little. Then you shook your head.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Right, I guess she came to do what you wouldn’t.”

You blink owlishly. You don’t know what this means.

Why was he being so cryptic?

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to sound cryptic, she just… showed me this other side of her that I didn’t know existed. Or, didn’t realise existed, I don’t know.”

That was so freakish, you didn’t even say that out loud. You sigh at him.

“Jungkook, I’m having trouble understanding you,” you rub your eyes roughly to wake yourself.

“She wanted me to break up with you. It… was this whole thing. She spoke of you terribly. She wanted me to choose between you and her.” He smiled humourlessly, “Obviously, I had to shut her up so I asked her to leave. Kindly.”

“Kindly?” You repeat, confused. It’s a weird detail. “Yeah, I mean- I made her leave. I haven’t spoken to her ever since.”

Your expression dulls, “Jungkook, when was this?” “A while ago. It was the day you texted me about tomorrow’s date.” You cannot read his expressions. You don’t know what to feel. He looks determined but then-

You gently raise your hand and bring it to his face and wipe a stray tear on his face.

“I’m sorry, hon. Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“It felt wrong. I understood she was part of the reason you and I fought. I should’ve sent her away that day when she yelled at you.”

“You gave her the benefit of doubt. She’s your closest friend. I understand the issue- reluctancy, I mean.” You reason. “I’m sorry it turned out like this.”

“Hey, this is not on you, not one bit.” Jungkook shook his head.

You accept it, but still argue, “Yeah, I mean if I had told you about it before… I don’t know. I’m just sorry. Have you tried talking to her?”

“No. I didn’t want to,” He sighed, “Not until I’ve talked to you about it. I need to get my shit straight.”

“It’s great timing too.” You allude to his finals, sarcastically.

“Pfft, she sure does have her way of revenge.”

"She who?" You tilt your head in confusion.

"The time." He says it like it was the most normal reference ever.

“The time is a woman?” You pout.

“Of course. Like God. God is a woman, didn’t you know?” His banter lightens the mood by a small percent.

“But, really. Have you been well? I don’t imagine a fight as big as this to have no effect on you…” You trail.

He smiles cutely, “I’m a strong boy.”

“Besides, I only found myself worrying about you rather than Yuna. She scared me a little.” He adds.

You blush at his confession. “I’m sorry,” you grumble.

“Don’t be!” Jungkook startles you, “I like thinking of you.”

You shy away from his gaze.

Jungkook is trying to bring his pathetic self to properly address his role in this whole debacle. He lightly massages your thigh, unconsciously inching his high higher up. The presumed dead butterflies in your belly began to revive ragefully.

In all honesty, he’s afraid of losing you. He doesn’t want this to go badly.

“_____. Seriously, though. I ignored all the horrible things she said to you.”

“You didn’t!” You squeak. Because of both his statement and his hand nearing your centre.

He abruptly places his hand back on his lap, not noticing your embarrassment, “No. I need you to know that I was in the wrong here. Me and Yuna.”

“Jungkook, no. You- she’s your friend for a much longer time than me. I think it gives her more credibility than me. I mean, I wouldn’t have noticed either. I don’t blame you. Please.” You breathe out. “I’m sorry I walked out so suddenly during dinner that day, before your study break. It really set the tone for the weeks that followed.”

Jungkook's jaw clenched, “No, you don’t have to be sorry. I made it uncomfortable for you.”

“It was mostly her.” You point.

“Mostly!” He catches on making you cringe, “You don’t have to sugar-coat for me, doll. I want you to be comfortable enough with me to tell me I fucked up.”

He had mistaken your reluctancy for nonchalance and security when it was the stark opposite.

He really, really, screwed up.

He knows you’d never blame him because you’re the sweetest girl in the world but he wasn’t beneath taking responsibility for what he did.

“Really. I don’t blame you. She kinda called me boring and a drag or whatever on your trip and you agreed so it hurt me a little more than I- I don’t know. It’s in the past!”

His eyes widen in horror, “_____, I’m so sorry. I had no idea she- I agreed?” - “I- yeah. Like, when I begged to tag along, she had said I’d bore you or something? I don’t remember. It’s okay, Jungkook.” You try to change the topic.

“_____, I’m so fucking sorry, I definitely heard her wrong! You aren’t boring! I thought the trip would bore you! Or overwhelm you, my friends are obnoxious for people who don’t know them, that’s all. I promise.” He tucked a few stray hairs from your face behind your ears.

“I know that now.” You press your lips together, making your cheeks stick further out. “_____.”

He lowly whispers, “You’re my favourite girl.”

“You’re my favourite boy.” You look up at the origami hearts dangling from the ceiling, “Although, Taehyung isn’t that far behind.”

Jungkook’s mouth opens and shuts almost instantly. You grin and squeeze his hand in yours.

“Ow. Nails…” Jungkook softly whimpers. You giggle at him, smoothening his palm out, “Sorry.” “Yeah? Kiss it better.” He demands.

You pretend to think, “Hm…. Maybe tomorrow.”

“_____!” Jungkook whined harder, “That’s unfair, I haven’t even hugged you for weeks. Did you know I had to get by hugging Taehyung instead? He always smells like lilies and sandalwood; I’m used to your vanilla and peach!”

“Lilies and sandalwood?” You quiz, genuinely interested. Jungkook suddenly clears his throat, getting off the floor.

“I’m going to spend the night.” He side tracked.

You blush, “Sana would never allow it.”

“Pfft, she helped me set this up, doll.” Jungkook cockily stretches his arms over his head. She did?

Oh? Oh. Oh, no wonder she tried to push you to shower.

“_____.”

You look up at Jungkook who intensely gazed at you. “Yeah…” You whisper.

“Are we better now?” His voice is tainted with uncertainty. You can see fear and slight sadness on his face.

You know he’s still mourning his best friend.

He doesn’t show it out of respect for you but you make sure to remember to bring it up later. You’d hate for him to go through this alone.

“We’re much better now.” You hold his hand.

You never wanted him to come to this. There’s a fleeting thought of breaking up with him so he wouldn’t have to lose such a huge part of his life.

Somewhere, you felt at fault for everything that happened.

If you didn’t exist for him, he would never have to choose. On the other hand, you’re glad he chose you. But you can’t help but wonder what could’ve happened had Yuna been nicer. It’s your insecurity and trust issues speaking again.

And, who’s to say he would really go back to Yuna? You could be taking away his happiness regardless. You make note of the not very subtle self-depreciative thoughts.

You stand up and look up at him towering over you more prominently, “Stop,” you giggle.

“What?” He smirks.

You whine a little, “You’re doing that alpha male thing!” To which he takes great offence. His brows scrunch.

“WHO taught you that word? Taehyung? It was him, wasn’t it? Ahh, what is he doing making my girlfriend laugh?” He exasperates, mumbling off some ineligible words.

He puts his arms around your body and squeezes you close to him, “Don’t ever leave me like that. Except if you want to, I will not invade you. You know that, right?” He backtracks and reassures you.

You swore you heard a shiver in his voice. “I know.” You promise.

Jungkook sweetly smiles at you making you a little aware and conscious about the way you looked at the moment.

You hoped he didn’t focus on your dark circles too much, or at all.

Jungkook cuts your thoughts off by leaning down to kiss your ear. It tickles. Goosebumps litter your skin.

Jungkook sloppily leaves wet kisses up and down your jaw and neck. His hands caressed your waist. He knows it tickles you. You press yourself harder against him, not knowing what to do to soothe yourself.

Jungkook kisses the top of your breasts through the open collar of your dress. You gasp and clench your toes.

He moans like it’s the best thing he ever put his lips on. Jungkook rubs his face in between them and bites and sucks on your semi hardened nipples through your dress.

He groans about how much he missed feeling your tits while your heavy breathing turns into wanton moans.

He takes his sweet time, dragging his wet tongue around your nipples one at a time, giving them both an equal amount of love, before reluctantly pulling away.

You’re eager for him to just pull your dress down and suck on your bare tits.

But then, you hear an annoyingly loud ringing sound.

“Argh, fuck. Whose is that?” Jungkook rasps.

“It’s coming from your phone.” You complain.

“Oh,” Jungkook deeply sighs and let’s his arms drop from around you to find the source of the ringing.

“Fuck,” Jungkook cusses when he spots his phone. You nervously frown, “What happened?”

“Study group. Shit, I didn’t realise that was today.” He shows you his alarm reminder titled ‘STUDY GROUP REMINDER CALL’ in all caps and everything.

Not even a second later, you see the name ‘Jia’ along with a photo of a very gorgeous girl flash on his screen.

“Jia?” You pout. Jungkook stares at you for a second, then at his screen, “AND Chris and Yugyeom and Karina! Study group!” He quickly adds.

You giggle, “You should answer that.”

“Hm? Nnnghh, I’ll catch up tomorrow.” He opts.

“JK, no. Study group comes first. You have people depending on you.”

Also, you really want to shower and shave for him.

“Brat.” He throws at you, playfully sizing you up, looking you up and down.

“That’s YOU!” You scoff.

He licks your cheek, childishly, “I miss my shy baby.”

“Shut upughh, bye.” You blush, pushing him away from you.

He hates how right you are about the study group and kisses your lips briefly before answering his friend’s call while simultaneously setting up his laptop and notebooks on your table.

He wastes no time joining their group call.

And now, you’re left with two funny-looking wet spots on your tits.

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #fic: lovefool #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jeon jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x y/n #jungkook oc fic

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rosie-b · 6 months

Text

Fill This Empty Space

1009 words

I decided to post the story I came up with from these prompts on AO3! If you're not familiar with the story, we were doing a writing ask game and I wrote a short story about Marinette dealing with amnesia. It has a hopeful ending; it's not too angsty, I swear!

...probably :)))

You can read it on AO3 or just below!

It had been a warm summer day when the old Marinette died.

The new Marinette woke up surrounded by golden light, soft, green grass, and the soft murmurings of a stream in northern France. It was perhaps the best way for her rebirth to happen, in a calm, relaxing environment far from the place she somehow knew was home.

She met her family there. They already knew her, and called her "maman," or "ma femme," or "my lady."

Marinette was no one's lady. She never had been, but according to video evidence and the testimony of her husband and children and best friend, that was one of the many roles her past self had filled.

Marinette did not know how to fill any of those old roles anymore. But because of the secret, magical way she'd chosen to lose her memories, she couldn't let anyone know this fact. She had to study years worth of business lessons in mere weeks, preparing for her return to Paris and the international company she would soon be in charge of running again.

At least her past self had accounted for this new Marinette's incompetence. But no one else seemed to see that she wasn't the same woman she had been once, back when a kwami lived in her purse and villains of the day (and year) kept plaguing Paris.

Adrien, the man whom past-Marinette had married, still professed that he was in love with her. He saw some of the differences between the new Marinette and the old one, but claimed they weren't nearly as big as Marinette thought they were, and he chose to spend most of his time around her, so maybe he was right. He took the time to learn her new habits; he made her fresh coffee to ease her into the day when she woke up two hours after he did; he stayed out of her bedroom to help her feel comfortable. He whispered his praises and appreciation for each new, scary thing she did, whether it was as big as scheduling an interview for after her return to Paris or as small as braiding her daughter's dark, silky hair.

Marinette could see why her past self had loved him. It was something both halves of her were beginning to share, a love for this man who still found a way to bring joy to her life even when it had been turned upside down.

But that didn't change the fact that the new Marinette was not the same woman he'd married. That fact was written into the vows Adrien and the past Marinette had exchanged; the way they had split up their chores; the daily schedule that Adrien still remembered while the new Marinette did not.

To Marinette, this new self of hers was nothing more than a facade made to cover the void her past self had left behind. She was thirty years old and as empty inside as a newborn baby, with no memories to guide her through this unfamiliar world.

Marinette was an icon, the magazines said. A paragon of virtue in an age of corruption; one half of both of Paris' favorite couples; a woman who managed to be a world-famous CEO and an attentive mother at the same time.

That wasn't the new Marinette's reality. She didn't even know her children's middle names, though she was learning their favorite desserts, sports, and hobbies over this vacation.

Most days, trying to live her new-old life was like learning a foreign language, and it felt just as isolating when she got something wrong or tried to remember something she thought she knew but actually didn't. Sometimes, this new life of hers was crushing, a drain on her already empty self, taking the last bit of Marinette out of her.

But not always.

As out of place as Marinette felt in her own life, the people in it still felt right somehow. They'd been there for her when she woke up; they were there to hug and comfort her when she cried in the night; to help teach her about her own life and tell her about theirs; and to listen when she said she felt different. They loved her, that much was clear, and they promised to love her no matter which Marinette she was; the old one with all her memories or the new one just fumbling through life.

And somehow, even though she claimed not to feel anything more for them than for other strangers at first, Marinette still loved them back. Their presence soothed the ache she felt in her chest, the one she felt when she couldn't remember, and she found herself more than missing them when they weren't there. She looked forward to hearing about their day, to learning their middle names and finally feeling like she was really a part of their family. She held on to the facts which they told her about themselves like sweet gifts of gold and honey; like they were all she needed to survive, to fill the empty space her memories had left behind.

The new Marinette was not the old one, and she never would be.

But maybe that was okay. The new Marinette had a space to call her own, too; it began here, in this remote, rural town near the seashore, and it would reach all the way back to Paris, to the place where the old Marinette had lived before her rebirth.

Marinette's home had always been her family, the people she loved. That was something she knew without having to remember it, and something she was more sure of every day.

So she studied the journals her past self had written; re-learned how to design; baked bread beside Adrien; sang songs with her children and stayed by their side. If her mind was an empty slate, then she was going to fill it with love, the same love she'd chosen before and was choosing again now.

Someday, she knew, this new Marinette would feel whole again.

#ml fanfic #rosie-b writing #miraculous ladybug #amnesia #marinette dupain cheng #gif is from https://dailymlgifs.tumblr.com/post/684468516445962240/i-cant-imagine-being-ladybug-without-him

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pharaohbean · 2 months

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Please talk more about how Touya's writing has been neglected. I Need to hear your thoughts this is Urgent

anon you sent me this last night and it's been like 12 hours and I've done nothing except write this for like. 5 hours. there's so much I haven't done and I'm running tech for Good Friday tonight. I went and finally watched Toya4 just to hone my points (actually it broke quite a few but wHATEVER) and reread SO MUCH and finally. after writing an ENTIRE ESSAY. i think i can answer your ask.

so, dear anon, may i present to you: Aoyagi Toya and his relationships in the form of Kizuna Ranks (roughly): his lack of them, the neglection of ones he does have, and why The first concerto redeemed Nocturne Interlude and Toya's Colofes story.

Let's start off with a simple Kizuna Rank counting: Toya has 14 kizunas: 6 VS, 3 VBS & WxS, 1 L/n & 25ji, and 0 MMJ (as of time of writing this). While that’s technically on the high end (he’s beating half of l/n, 3/4ths of wxs and 3/4ths of 25ji) the problem is where most of his kizunas lie: he has full VS (the first of his group, actually), full VBS, and almost-full WxS (it SHOULD be full); that accounts for 12 out of the 14 he has. He has so little diversity outside of those three groups, which compared to Mizuki (who has the same amount of kizunas as him) who has 4 VS, 2 MMJ, 3 VBS, 2 WxS, and the obvious 3 25ji, isn’t a lot!

Toya’s only two “unique” kizunas are Saki and Mizuki; Saki, who he’s known since childhood and has a lot of respect for her and even more so her brother, and Mizuki, who they got the kizuna with I think through a combination of KAMIYAMA HIGH FES and Summer Festival. The problem isn’t that Toya has so few kizunas (he doesn’t, really, I counted) it’s that his kizunas are almost indicative of his friendships.

Fun fact: Toya has not had a new kizuna in over a year. His last kizuna on JP was October 2022. Over a year.

(Just as a side note, I’m not going to be talking about his lack of appearances OVERALL. Around this time last year, his VA started voicing Dan Heng in HSR, and considering that that man is in like… 6 Trailblazer Missions, I would assume with scheduling that he wasn’t really able to voice anything else for a while. We’re talking about that when he was on outside of group focuses, he never really talked with anyone outside of those he already knew. But Dan Heng has also been put to the wayside after 1.3, which was in August, so after that I’m not cutting Toya slack.)

I went through his cards after Never Give Up Cooking! to present day because cards are usually indicative of a presence in an event, and outside of group focuses, he has…. 2 (excluding Sanrio which I'm 99% sure he didn’t talk with anyone outside of his group). Yup, just two! The first one is… the Kamiyama Fine Arts Festival. Where he knows everyone in Kamiyama (day classes) and has a kizuna with them. Just great. The other event is Valentines3, where he meets with a bunch of new people, but I’ll get back to them. Let’s talk about L/n, 25ji, and their relationships with Toya.

Toya has one from both of them, as mentioned previously: Saki and Mizuki. But Toya (as far as I know) has basically never met the other members of their groups. Sure, his teammates have (Kohane attends Miya with L/n and was classmates with Shiho, and Akito is siblings with Ena and has met Mafuyu more than once, even in his own home) but Toya has not. And do you want to know something truly terrible? He could!

He’s childhood best friends with Saki! He’s classmates with Mizuki now! There are so many possibilities for Toya to meet them! Personally, I want an Ichisakitoyakana event where Toya learns to songwrite a little more from Ichika and Kanade (especially considering his newest focus where he accidentally[?] works himself to the bone to compose a single song). That wouldn’t be hard considering that he has an in with both L/n (through Saki) and 25ji (through both Mizuki and partially Ena, whom he can get to through Akito)!

But for reasons beyond my understanding, they just. Haven’t. Have they been waiting for Toya4? Maybe, and that’s valid. But that doesn’t mean that he couldn’t have spoken with them earlier anyways, especially considering that he’s been grueling over composing for what seems to be months. Also, it’s Saki, why wouldn’t she introduce her cool younger brother to Ichika, who is also a songwriter? Heck if I know!

But I digress. Let’s talk Valentines3, where Toya talks with Ena and Haruka quite a bit. Ena and Toya have known each other since… like, forever. Roughly 3 years, if we assume that Ena found out about Toya around the time Akito partnered up with him. While they don’t talk a lot, they’ve definitely had multiple chances to: Summer Festival, 2nd Anniversary, maybe 2nd New Years but admittedly I didn’t read that story so who knows. But their first shared card set is… Valentines3.

Both Toya and Ena have a solid connection with Akito, Toya consistently hands off plushies to Ena, and yet the two just… never talk. You’d think they would! But they just… haven’t? And I don’t know if that’s bad writing or just something? But Valentines3 is their first big interaction, which is three years since the game started.

Now, let’s talk Haruka. Compared to his teammates, Toya has a very isolated kizuna community (as a side note, Saki and Nene are the only kizunas that he doesn’t share with someone else in his group excluding VS), and it’s obvious if you look at his lack of MMJ kizunas. But everyone in his group has a direct connection to someone in MMJ: Kohane was first-year classmates with Minori, An is childhood friends with Haruka, and Akito and Airi at the very least know each other well. At ANY point, MMJ could’ve been introduced to Toya--and let’s face it, they probably were. Toya I’m sure has heard about them.

…But why has he never talked with them? Again, wouldn’t have been hard (although he’d have less of a reason to than he would’ve with someone like Ichika, Kanade, and Ena) but he just hasn’t? And I remember correctly he does know who Haruka is in Val3. I’m not sure if that’s the writers just straight up ignoring him for a while (which they totally did) or that’s Toya’s personality, but I really don’t think it’s the latter with how well Toya just. Takes new people.

One other person I’ll talk specifically about is Mafuyu. There’s not a super clear connection for Toya and Mafuyu to interact, but they’ve definitely met in passing. I love Toya and Mafuyu’s parallels (especially with their fourth rotations being huge for them) and wish they’d properly interact, but Colopale won’t let them because that would screw over Mafuyu’s progress entirely. In a good way. Mafuyu would realize so much. But you wanna read more about them and their parents, there’s this amazing post about it that I think does it well.

Now, let’s talk about the relationships Toya does have. I’m just going to briefly gloss over most of them, then talk about the ones with a little more influence in Toya’s life (which is basically just VBS and Tsukasa).

Let’s start with VS: Miku and Luka are the two who really click with Toya the best. Miku is the one who went with Toya to his Fragment SEKAI (which we’ll be touching upon later) and inherited his terrible cooking. VBS Miku, although not a large force at play in recent stories, is still a valuable voice of reason. Luka literally showed up during Toya’s event, got him to do stuff he’d never do, and is just generally his hype man. She’s great.

Now, let’s talk the twins. Rin I feel like, when with the boys (who is all I really read, sorry girls), doesn’t have much of a character aside from being Len’s fellow corgi sticking her head into boxes ‘n such (cookie if you get this). Len, however, can be mostly found with the boys, trailing after them like a younger brother… well, he trails after Akito. He doesn’t really trail after Toya, and Len more so sticks around with Akito a lot (learning soccer, was in Summer Fes with them, etc.). So ironically, I would say Len and Toya don’t have a strong connection, at least compared to Len and Akito.

Finally, let’s talk the adults(?). MEIKO, for the most part, has kept her nose out of music, but she’s been there since the start. She and Miku both play the VS in Toya1, and she, Miku, and KAITO are typically the ones to get Toya’s head back on straight. Most recently, MEIKO helped Toya pretty significantly in The first concerto (which we’ll also be discussing later).

Now, the rest: I thought about this for a while, but although Toya and Saki are close, I don’t think there’s any actual record of Toya going to visit Saki in the hospital, either with the Tenmas or his own family? So although they’re close, they’re definitely not as close as Toya and Tsukasa or Toya and Akito. But correct me if I’m wrong.

Toya and Mizuki are more recently classmates, and although they seem to have had something during Kamiyama Fine Arts Fes, I’m not sure what that is. But the two of them have had something for a little while, but it’s been pretty loose.

Toya and Nene are both gaming buddies, and actually get along pretty well. Toya and Rui also get along pretty well, Rui even going out of his way to taste test for Toya (although he definitely didn’t realize how. Terrible Toya’s cooking skills are) and help him repay the Tenmas.

Finally, let’s talk a little more about Toya’s deepest (and shallowest) relationships: VBS, Tsukasa, and his father---in backwards order because I’m like this.

Toya and his father have had a pretty shaky relationship, one that is always perpetually a few steps away from being entirely burned. But it’s a relationship that both are interested in keeping alive, but feel that they can’t, primarily because of their different beliefs in music. Again, I highly recommend you go read the relationship between Harumichi and Mafumom I linked above to get a better understanding of both people, but most recently, Toya’s father does go somewhat out of his way to give Toya some advice in The first concerto. Although some people believe it doesn’t make up for the child abuse, I feel like I strongly need to say something:

Toya explicitly continued classical for TWELVE YEARS.

That kid picked the piano up at 3! 12 years he played! He was 15 when he ran away! Teenagers get moody about this stuff! And I would know, because I had the exact same relationship with my parents about religion at his age. I’m not going to get into depth about my own personal life, but I’m not gonna call handling someone harshly after they themselves treat themselves the same way as child abuse. Is there child abuse? Oh probably definitely, Toya should’ve gotten more hugs as a kid. But Toya (explicitly in The first concerto flashbacks) pushes himself to be better at classical. There’s a whole bunch of other stuff here which I can talk about in another post (including Toya fixating only on the bad parts of his past, which is something I also do) but let’s leave it here for now.

Now, let’s talk about Tsukasa. If none of you are aware, Tsukasa is the one who gives Toya the push to quit classical music (from the PJSK fandom wiki in Toya’s relationships page: “it was Tsukasa who told him it was okay to do the things he wanted, even if others disapproved. This gave Toya the courage to quit classical music, and he says if it weren't for Tsukasa, he wouldn't be the person he is today”). Toya holds Tsukasa in high regard, even just as high as Akito (he defends Tsukasa from Akito on multiple occasions) even if he won’t let go of the “-senpai” honorific. Toya has gone out of his way multiple times to support Tsukasa in some way (taking his spot during Wedding1 when Tsukasa gets sick, taking a 2hr train ride just to see his performance as Thorpe at the end of Tsukasa2, learning how to cook just to repay the Tenmas in Never Give Up Cooking!) while also never asking for anything in return, and will probably continue to do so because he just holds Tsukasa in such high regard. It’s about the same regard that Toya holds Akito in, but Toya repays that by standing by Akito’s side and singing with him because that’s all Akito asks for.

Then, the Vivids. Despite being teammates, Toya doesn’t have much of a relationship with them (especially compared to Akito, who’s got a distinct one with both of them). Toya and An both respect each other, but the only mixed events they have cards together for are Wedding1 (where An really only shows up at the end) and Kami Fine Arts Fes, which I haven’t read so I can’t speak on that. Toya and Kohane have a 1-on-1 moment in An1 and… not again until Valentines3. Three years after An1. THREE YEARS!!! Toya’s relationship with the girls I feel has been especially neglected, but also partially for a good reason: in An1, both Akito and Toya let the girls talk themselves through. Sure, Akito gives An a harsh talking-to, and Toya gives Kohane some advice, but the two of them keep their noses out of the girls’ business. And the two of them do take a while to get on their own two feet (which I won’t go into depth about here, but maybe in another post).

But also, you’re teammates. I’m willing to overlook shallow relationship writing with people like Saki, Nene, Rui, and Mizuki because they’re not super close, but An and Kohane? That’s just straight up ignoring their relationships. There are so many opportunities for this sort of thing--which the writers definitely capitalized on in the beginning--but nowadays most of the cast goes to the VS for help. Which isn’t bad, it just means you’re developing relationships with other people. But having an arguably stronger connection with the VS than your own teammates? Really? You could put in a little more effort, writers.

Finally, let’s talk about Akito and Toya. Let me preface this by saying I’m biased and weak for partnerships, but I’ll try to do my best. Akito and Toya’s relationship is one of the few relationships we see prior to canon that isn’t a sibling relationship or having broken down; the only ones who are standing are the entirety of 25ji and maybe Rui and Nene (L/n broke off prior to canon, and Airi and Shizuku, although knowing one another, seem to have had most of their relationship deteriorate by the start of canon). But unlike the other two, Akito and Toya’s pre-canon relationship isn’t really discussed. All we really know is that they joined up not long after meeting (I think it’s implied it was in the same meeting) and are so close to one another by the start of canon that they trust each other to an insane degree. That’s not to say they haven’t had their fights (they have) but the big thing is that Akito and Toya’s RELATIONSHIP isn’t toxic. Both of them have their own personal issues (self-worth for Akito, guilt/burden for Toya) that they do often hide from each other, but as soon as the other notices, it doesn’t take them much to open up. I think the only time Toya didn’t tell Akito what was on his mind was that one time in his Toya1 card story where he refused to tell Akito that he was the best partner---and let’s be real, that’s Toya being cheeky and cheesy because he can; Toya’s not that open with many people (the only others excluding VS I’d say would be An, Kohane, Tsukasa, and Saki).

I will add, the writers do like to place quite a lot of emphasis on their relationship and bond, but it’s not bad yet or anything, especially with the current direction VBS is taking making it that there’s not much of a position for that to happen outside of mixed events. But again, I’m a sucker for that sort of thing, so.

To close out, let’s talk about a couple of things I said I’d talk about, and why The first concerto fixed so much. So let’s simultaneously talk about Toya1, Toya’s Colofes story, and the redemption that is The first concerto.

For me, Toya1 felt a little weird (rereading it for this post, you’re welcome) because knowing what little I did of The first concerto (which was nothing) at the time, I was confused because in Toya1 he moved past his classical burden, didn’t he? And also, you wanna talk Colofes? They dropped a huge character detail and L E F T. FOR TWO YEARS! But finally, when I actually watched The first concerto (like, earlier today) I had so many thoughts, but eventually decided on the following things:

Toya1 was Toya getting over his classical burden for singing, while The first concerto was dealing with his burden for composing. And as for his Colofes story… Toya is cut off in his words when the Fragment SEKAI disappears. Considering that, and what Toya says in chapters 6 and 7 (referencing his Colofes), I think that despite what Miku said about forgiving himself, Toya didn’t. As we also learn in The first concerto, Toya has a very hard time not fixating on the bad events of his life and instead focusing on the good, especially after quitting classical. Sure, he can think of the good like being with the Tenmas, but that was always tainted with the rest of his history.

The first concerto just. Redeems so much that was left to the side in Toya’s progression, and in a good way. Toya already removed the shackles from his wrists and ankles back in Toya1, but left them to the wayside. Now, here, he’s picked them back up and is slowly, surely, turning them into keys to unlock the door to the future. The event gives Toya the courage and ability to finally forgive himself for his past (something he didn’t do back during his Colofes, which is roughly just after Kohane2) and use it to move forward.

(Also, if you’re wondering why I, a Toya kinnie, was reading it so late, shameless plug to my 4k Toya-centric fic roots in the snow, where it's explained there.)

Anyways, those are my thoughts. I’m sure I have more which I might add on to later, but I’ve literally just been writing this for like 3 hours straight and I need to vacuum before I leave soon because if I don’t my mom will have my head.

(i hope you were expecting an essay anon LOL)

#zero thoughts #zero asks #project sekai #proseka #pjsk #prsk #toya aoyagi #aoyagi toya #and so many other people i could tag but i wont

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harley-sunday · 1 year

Text

August Rush [10]

Summary: You’ve known Carlos for almost as long as you have been working in Formula One but you never expected it would take you seven years and a concussion to realise that maybe you like him as more than just a friend.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x reader (OFC nicknamed Pip) | Max Verstappen x reader (best friends)

Warnings: Language. Slightly NSFW.

Word count: 6.9k.

AN: This is it, babes. The final part of this wild ride we all went on almost a year ago. I’m gonna miss writing for these two but I think the story I wanted to tell got told and it’s time for them to have their happy ending. I couldn’t have done this without my Devious Friend™, my editor-in-chief, and my greatest support. eL, this one’s for you, babe ♥ And for all of you - I meant what I said last time, please feel free to come yell at me in the comments. I would love to hear what you think!

Masterlist

Despite the weather forecast predicting nothing but rain this race weekend, it’s actually quite nice when you make it to Spa on Wednesday and so you’re enjoying a walk through the paddock in your Alpha Tauri-issued team polo with your sunglasses on and an iced coffee in your hand. Something about the calm before the storm, you think idly.

Spa is- It’s hectic. It’s the first race after the summer break and so there’s always a lot to catch up on, the last remnants of silly season still echoing through the paddock and some of the announced driver changes for next year raising a few eyebrows here and there. Like you expected, the news that your team has chosen to focus on the development of next year’s car has been met with very few questions and so, except for a press conference that isn't scheduled until tomorrow morning, there isn’t much for you to do except catch up with the other press officers and a few of your driver friends.

First stop is the Red Bull garage, where you find Max joking around with some of his pit crew, comparing tans and exchanging stories about their summer holidays. His smile grows even wider when he spots you and he gives you a quick wave, motioning for you to come over, “Hello.”

You step into his outstretched arms without a moment’s thought, “God, I’ve missed you, Maxy.”

He hugs you closer, “How are you?”

“Good,” you tell him, before you let go and take a step back. “I just wanted to hear if we’re still on for dinner with your mom tonight?”

“She’s been talking about nothing else ever since she got here,” Max chuckles. “I think we’re staying in the same hotel, right?” He waits for you to nod before he continues, “Ok, so why don’t we meet in the lobby at seven and I’ll ask mum to meet us there? I think she wants to go to that restaurant we went to last year also.”

“With that housemade ‘Stoofvlees’,” you try, no doubt butchering the pronunciation. Your mouth starts to water just thinking about the dish, a beef and onion stew that Sophie convinced you to try last year and that you have thought about ever since.

Max laughs, “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Perfect,” you agree with a nod as you start to walk backwards towards the pitlane, “I’ll see you at seven then.”

***

“Oh my God,” you roll your eyes and lean back in your chair, savouring the taste of your final bite. Holding your hand in front of your mouth then, because you still have some manners left, “That was so good!”

Sophie and Max share a look before they both let out a laugh and Max continues telling you about his holiday in Brazil, after you’ve already told them a little about your time in Mallorca, leaving out a few choice details of course.

Dinner with Sophie and Max is nice, it always is. You don’t get to see Sophie that often and when you do it’s usually just a quick hello in the paddock after quali or before the race and so to be able to sit down with her and Max and have a couple of hours to catch up is a small treat in and of itself.

When Max excuses himself to go to the bathroom, Sophie leans forwards and waits until he’s out of earshot before she softly says, “There’s something different about you, Pip.”

You smile and look down, trying to avoid her curious gaze because you know if she looks at you long enough you’ll just spill everything. Instead you trace the rim of your water glass with your fingers and shrug, “I’m just really in a good place, I guess. Work is going well and-”

“Hmm,” Sophie agrees half-heartedly, seeing right through your act. “It’s ok if you don’t want to tell me yet, sweetheart. I know how exciting it can be to keep something to yourself for a while.”

“Yeah,” you nod and look up at her, smiling almost apologetically, “I think I should tell Max first-”

She reaches over the table and puts her hand on yours, “Whatever it is or-” she smiles, “Whoever it is, I’m sure Max will be fine.”

“I know. It’s just-” you take a deep breath.

“He cares about you so much,” Sophie looks up then and when you follow her eyes you see Max making his way back to the table. She leans in closer, squeezes your hand and whispers, “He’ll be fine.”

***

During the drivers’ interviews on Thursday, pairing Pierre with Mick and Yuki with Fernando, you stay in the media room for all ten interviews like you always do, smiling when you see Carlos and Daniel walk on stage.

You’re all the way in the back of the room but still Carlos’ eyes find yours and the smile he sends you makes the heat rise to your cheeks. Daniel is too busy cracking jokes with one of the journalist to notice anything but then Carlos gets asked what he did over his summer holidays, which he answers with a very vague, “Not much, I enjoyed having some time off while also making sure I kept up with the training schedule,”, and all of a sudden Daniel’s all over him with cheeky grins and cheesy winks that are meant to let everyone know that, as far as Daniel’s concerned, Carlos is not telling the full story.

For a moment you’re worried Daniel knows- Something, but- He couldn’t, can’t he? Still, you clear your throat loud enough to catch Daniel’s attention and when his eyes land on you, you tell him to cut it out with a miniscule shake of your head.

He furrows his brows and you know he’ll give you shit for it later, but for now you’ve averted the crisis because the next journalist is already asking Carlos what he thinks of the weather forecast for this weekend and if he’s worried about the race being delayed.

***

“What was that all about, babe?”

You startle a little when Daniel’s warm breath hits your neck and so you curse quietly, which in turn makes him laugh, turning a few heads in your direction. You try to smile apologetically, knowing it’s best not to have the pinnacle of F1 journalism on your bad side.

“Bad conscience, huh?” He pinches your side and puts his mouth even closer to your ear, “So come on, spill the tea, what were you and Sainz up to this summer?”

“Nothing,” you whisper in his direction. “I just didn’t think it would be good for either team if they found out during a press conference that an Alpha Tauri employee spent their summer at a Ferrari driver’s house. There’s a time and place for that, Dan.”

Daniel sucks some air between his teeth, “Yeah, that could get nasty real’ quick, huh?” He slings his arm around your shoulder then and holds up his other hand, extending his pinky to you, “Pinky promise nothing happened?”

You don’t hesitate and hook your finger behind his, “Pinky promise.”

“Good,” he says and oddly enough it sounds as if he believes you because he nods to the podium then, “Let’s hear what these two have to say for themselves then, babe.”

You follow his eyes towards the podium, where Max and Charles are answering some rather boring answers about strategy and their expectations for this weekend.

***

Carlos finds you in the Alpha Tauri hospitality early on Friday morning, the paddock still relatively quiet and not too many other drivers yet around. It’s been your race week ritual ever since he moved from Toro Rosso to Renault and so you were already waiting with an espresso for him and a cappuccino for you. It’s weird, having to act as if you’re still just friends because God, you really want to kiss him. To distract yourself you keep playing with the charm on your bracelet.

He notices, of course he does, and says, with one raised eyebrow and a rather mischievous grin, “If you would just tell him we could- You know-”

“Carlos-” You add a dramatic sigh for full effect. “Later. Ok?”

“Later today, or-” Carlos lets out a laugh when you throw him a look, “What? I need to know how to plan my day, cariño. Can I kiss you? Can I not ki-”

“Carlos!” You put your hand over his mouth and look around rather panicked, hoping nobody has heard him. It doesn’t seem anyone did, “You are a menace, you know that.”

Carlos wiggles his eyebrows and nips at the palm of your hand.

“Oh Jesus Christ.” You let out a sigh and pull back your hand, “I will tell him after the race, ok? I promise.”

He pouts. Of course he does.

You shake your head but can’t help but laugh, “Two more days, babe. You’ll manage.”

“Babe?”

Shit. You turn around and try your best to act cool, “Hi Lando.”

Lando seems unimpressed and points at Carlos, “What are you calling him ‘babe’ for?”

“She’s angry,” Carlos says before you even have the chance to come up with an excuse. When Lando looks between you and Carlos and back, looking more confused than ever, Carlos leans in and whispers, “Did you never notice she calls people ‘babe’ whenever she tries to get her point across even though she knows you’re not gonna listen?”

And, oh damn if that isn’t the truth. You just never knew he picked up on that.

Landos squints at you but doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and just as you’re convinced he’s not buying it he starts nodding enthusiastically, “She does!”

“Lando!” You playfully smack his chest, “You’re supposed to disagree, babe.”

Lando’s eyes widen and then he lets out a cackle, “You’re literally doing it right now.”

You can’t help but laugh but throw Carlos a quick wink when Lando isn’t looking and mouth a quiet, “Nice save.”

***

While the first free practice is rather uneventful, FP2 has Max losing control of the rear of his car and spinning out at Malmedy, hitting the wall. Despite that he still manages to set the fastest time and so you’re not too worried about him or the car, although you still send him a text to make sure he’s ok.

It’s nearing the end of the day and so you’re busy gathering your things when you hear your name being called from outside the garage. When you look up and see your best friend standing there, waving enthusiastically, you can’t help but run over to her and throw yourself at her for a hug, “Hi friend!”

“Hi babe,” she hugs you closer. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit easily enough.

She lets go then and puts her hands on your arms, “Now tell me, how are things with that boy toy of yours? I want to know everything.”

“Flo,” you warn through gritted teeth, a quick look around to make sure Pierre isn’t within earshot, “not here.”

“Fine,” she huffs. “During dinner then.” She looks at you expectantly, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, let me just grab my things-” you say and nod towards your bag and jacket. “I do want to get changed first though, so we’re stopping at my hotel first, ok?”

“Ok,” she echoes, the word dramatically drawn out, “but you're driving.”

***

“So yeah, friends with benefits,” you conclude your story of your time with Carlos.

Flo eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t say anything.

“We’re just having fun-” you try again but it sounds rather unconvincing and you hope she’s not going to push it. You feel terrible lying to your best friend but you really want to tell Max first and so you add with a cheek grin, “-and great sex, so win-win.”

“Hmm,” she hums, leaning back in her chair, a glass of wine dangling between her fingers. “There’s something you’re not telling me, though.” A wicked grin then, “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.”

“Counting on it,” you challenge her, holding up your glass. “Cheers, babe.”

***

Saturday has a change of weather and all of a sudden you find yourself waiting in the garage, the first qualifying session delayed by fifteen minutes because of the rain that’s absolutely pouring down. You’re not really needed for qualifying but you like to show your support to both Yuki and Pierre and so you tend to hang around anyway.

When it’s finally time to get started, you find your way to the TV screens lining the wall and watch the first round of quali unfold with Pyry, Pierre’s trainer, standing next to you, absolutely towering over you. Flo is standing on Pyry’s other side, nervously chewing on the cuticle of her thumb as her eyes are glued on the screen. You know Spa holds some horrendous memories for her and that she’s not just watching Pierre but Charles as well and so you stand next to her and take her free hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Together you see Yuki getting eliminated after the first stint and Carlos and Charles stranding in Q2, while Pierre and Max advance to Q3, where a crash from Lando brings out the red flags after only a few minutes of racing, which means Max takes pole and Pierre starts sixth on the grid tomorrow.

***

You’re in the media pen with Pierre once qualifying is over and zone out a little when he’s answering questions from Ziggo Sports because their reporter Jack has a very roundabout way of asking something that’s always rather simple. You can’t wait to get out of this cold and so you’re sort of daydreaming about the hot shower waiting for you in your hotel room. It’s then you see Carlos walking over to Sky Sports who are lined up next to where you’re standing and you can feel your heart skip a beat because God, he looks good.

He catches you looking and throws you a wink, taking off his cap and running a hand through his hair, knowing exactly what it does to you.

You quickly avert your eyes and try to focus on Jack’s next question but it turns out the interview is over and thus so are Pierre’s media duties. You walk back to the garage together in silence, both of you lost in thought. Before he disappears into his driver's room to get changed, you remind him there’s a scheduled post going up on his Instagram in an hour or so and then continue on towards the Alpha Tauri offices to collect your bag so you can head out and call it a day.

You’re in a relatively quiet part of the paddock when you feel someone walking up behind you and before you can even turn around there are two hands on your hips, gently pushing you into a dark corner in between the Alpha Tauri and Ferrari garages. You gasp, ready to punch whoever has grabbed you but then you hear a low chuckle that you’d recognize anywhere and so instead you turn around and gently slap his chest, whispering a berating, “Carlos!”

“What?” He tries to act all innocent while grinning wickedly, “There’s no one around, cariño. And I really, really want to kiss you. If I have to wait until Sunday evening I won’t survive.”

You let out a giggle, hiding your face against his chest, “You’re so dramatic.”

“It’s why you love me,” he counters almost instantly. “Let me kiss you?”

“We can’t-” you try but you know it’s a losing battle when he puts his fingers under your chin and tilts your head back, making you look up at him.

He licks his lips and lets his eyes fall to your mouth, “Please?”

You don’t say anything but instead push yourself up, brushing your lips against his, letting out a tiny whimper when he kisses back, hard. Soon enough you feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, your hands sneaking into his hair, wishing you could stop time for just five minutes or so.

Carlos has just slipped his tongue inside your mouth, making you moan a little, when you hear a manic laugh coming from somewhere close by.

Both you and Carlos pull back at the same time and you hold onto his arms as you look around him, trying to find the culprit. Maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe they were laughing at something else. Maybe it’s-

It’s Pierre.

Oh shit.

You curse quietly and step to the side, rounding Carlos, arms outstretched to your driver as if any sudden movements will set something in motion you’re not ready to deal with yet.

Pierre shakes his head, still laughing, and holds up his phone, snapping a picture, “C’est chaud ça, hein?”

“Pierre Jean-Jacques Gasly,” you warn him, using your best mom-voice as you slowly walk towards him, “don’t you dare. Delete that.” Dropping your voice then, hoping it will get your point across, “Now.”

It’s no use, his fingers are already hovering over the screen, his lips curled up in a manic grin, “Oh, this is so good-”

“What are you doing?” Your voice is a little high-pitched but Jesus, if he puts any of this on Instagram-

It’s then he looks up and when he sees how close you are he tries to act very innocent all of a sudden, dropping his smile and shrugging, “Nothing.”

You take a deep breath, trying your hardest not to panic, “Give me your phone.”

“What? No.” Pierre takes a step back and hides his phone behind his back.

“Cabrón,” Carlos says from over your shoulder, his voice low and a warning there that makes a shiver run down your spine. “Give her your phone.”

“I didn’t do anything stupid, ok? I just wanted proof. So I can collect my winnings-” He seems to realise his mistake the moment the words leave his mouth and he tries to cover it up by adding, “It’s not online, I swear.”

You look at him in shock, starting to connect dots you’re not sure you want to connect, “Winnings? What? Do you have a bet going on or-?” It’s then you remember your call with Flo, where she told you to figure things out before Spa and- You can’t believe Pierre and Flo would actually bet on you getting together with Carlos. Then again- You shake your head, figure you can worry about that later. Your first priority is getting Pierre’s phone and if he wants to piss you off some more by not giving it to you, fine. You’ll go get it yourself.

Out of nowhere you lunge forward, pushing Pierre against the back of the Ferrari garage and distracting him with a well aimed flick to his cheek-

“Oi!”

-and reach behind him, taking the phone and running back to hide behind Carlos. Pierre’s phone is locked but of course you know the code and so you pull up his last used app, a little surprised to see it’s Whatsapp, and open the most recent message thread, which is a group chat called “Chili and Pip 2021” and for a brief moment you wonder how many previous group chats there have been that they had to add a year to the name. You file that away for later because there are too many contacts in the group for it to just be him and Flo. Jesus.

The last message Pierre sent in the chat is the picture he took, showing Carlos’ back and you behind him, looking absolutely livid. The message he attached a very eloquent, ‘Busted!’

“I can explain-” Pierre tries, and at least now he has the decency to look a little guilty.

“I want you-” you point his phone at him, “-Flo, and everyone else in this fuckin’ group chat in my office in ten minutes,” you tell him through gritted teeth, stepping in front of Carlos then to make your point. “And I’m keeping your phone so you can’t pull any more bullshit, Gasly.”

“But-”

“Nine minutes and forty seconds,” you warn him, turning on your heels then and hold out your hand, waiting until Carlos takes it before you tug him towards the Alpha Tauri building.

When you reach your office, you can’t help but laugh, “Oh, this is going to be fuckin’ awesome.”

Carlos seems confused.

You let go of his hand and lean against your desk, “I know this is not the reaction you expected but- Ok. So. Honestly? I’m actually not surprised they made a bet out of it, I mean- It’s- It’s what we do. When Charles and Flo first started to realise that maybe they liked each other as more than friends, Pierre and I bet on how long it would take him to make it Instagram official so- I won, by the way,” you add with a grin. You wave your hand around, “Not really the point. Anyway, the thing I’m most upset about is that I didn’t figure this out sooner-”

“Why?” He looks at you like he’s afraid you’ve lost your mind, which honestly, after the way you’ve been rambling, you can understand.

“So we could have messed up their wagers,” you explain. “We could have pretended to have gotten into a big fight or- I could have made up a boyfriend, you know? Just, mess with them a little.”

Carlos visibly relaxes and nods, admitting with a shy smile, “Pierre once bet me that Charles would cry during his first podium.” He shrugs and his smile grows wider then, “He lost.”

You can’t help but laugh, “I should have known this would happen. Ugh-” you let out a frustrated sigh but then clap your hands together, “Ok. Here’s what we’re going to do-”

***

“Everyone here?” You look at Pierre, who nods. You’re not convinced, “Where’s Max?”

“Max isn’t in on this-”

Oh, thank God.

“-he doesn’t know anything about this,” Daniel pipes up from where he’s leaning against the wall. “We know how protective he is of you and-"

“Ok. Thank you, Daniel.” You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing when you see Daniel shrink back against the wall like a naughty schoolboy who has been told off by the headmaster. You’re leaning against your desk, hands resting on the cool surface on either side of you, and look across the room.

All the usual suspects are here; Pierre, Charles, Flo, Lando, Daniel- You’re a little surprised to see Yuki here but then again, are you really? You know from experience that Pierre can be quite persuasive and so he probably bullied the younger driver into taking part. No, the one that surprises you most is Rupert, Carlos’ personal trainer. When your eyes land on him you shake your head, hoping it conveys your disbelief, “Really Rupert?”

He laughs and shrugs, “I’ve been seeing you two-” he says with a nod towards Carlos, “- dance around each other since his first year in Formula One, darling. I’m honestly surprised it has taken you this long to figure it out.”

The rest of the drivers in the room nod in agreement. Flo even has the audacity to throw you a look that says ‘Told you so.’

“Anyway,” you continue, focusing on Pierre again. “Since you seem to be the ringleader, Gasly, please explain what’s going on here?”

“Well, I-” Pierre runs a hand through his hair and looks at Flo for backup.

“No. nu-uh.” She shakes her head, “This was all you, Gas.”

His eyes widen in shock at the betrayal by his friend, “Do I need to remind you about-”

“You do not,” Flo bites back. “We both know what happened that night.” As always, they only need half a word to have a full conversation. Flo crosses her arms in front of her chest then, “You’re the one who created the group chat, non?”

Next to her Lando and Yuki nod but then Pierre throws them a warning look and suddenly their shoes are much more interesting to look at. Lando, at least, has the decency to blush.

“I can’t believe you’re going to let me take the blame for this,” Pierre says under his breath before he turns back to you. “Fine. Ok. So-”

You hold up your hand to get him to stop talking and shake your head, “I don’t need all the details. Just tell me who got it right and how much they won.”

Pierre shrugs, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, “I did.”

“Hey. No,” Yuki says then. “You said race day at Spa, Pierre. It’s not race day yet, is it?”

“Exactly,” Flo joins in. “So I won.”

“No. No, no,” Lando jumps in and points at Flo, “You said before Spa. So technically you both got it wrong.”

You let out what you hope is a frustrated sigh, “Ok, so did no one get it right, or-”

Charles shakes his head in reply, “No. But I think Pierre is the closest.”

“That doesn’t count though, does it?” Carlos says from where he’s standing next to you and when you risk a glance in his direction you can tell he’s trying his hardest not to laugh.

“I guess not,” Charles agrees quietly, hanging his head.

“Ok, so then the money is ours,” you say with a shrug as if that settles it. “Perfect.”

A round of protests starts across the room, Pierre arguing that that’s not how it works, while Yuki suggests using the money for a new bet instead, and Lando saying that because you weren’t in on the bet you couldn’t possibly win.

From the corner of your eye you see Daniel push himself off the wall, drawing your attention with a quick wave, “Babe, it has been swell, but Michael’s waiting on me for some guided meditation or- Whatever. I gotta skedaddle out of here.” He reaches into the pocket of his jeans then and pulls out a folded fifty Euro bill, reaching over Yuki to hand it to you, “I’ll make sure Michael pays you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Michael’s in on this as well?”

“Yep,” Daniel nods. “He had you down for Abu Dhabi, by the way-” he throws you a wink, “-So I’ll let him know he’s way off.”

“Sure. Ok. Whatever,” you reply, not surprised. Daniel is just about to open the door when you call out to him, “Dan?” When he turns around you lock eyes with him, “Not a word about this to Max, ok?” You look at everyone in the room then, “I mean it, guys. He can’t hear this from you.”

A chorus of, “We know,” echoes across the room.

“Good.” A smile then, “Thank you.”

“So,” Pierre starts hesitantly, testing the waters, “can we go now, or-”

“Well first of all, you are an idiot for thinking we would announce our relationship on race day.” You scoff, “Have I taught you nothing in our years of working together?”

Pierre hangs his head and repeats from memory, a mocking tone to his voice, “No important news during race weekends. We wait until we’re in between races before we put out personal news.”

“Exactly.” You push yourself off your desk then, “And second of all, it looks like you all owe me fifty Euros, suckers-” you hold out your hand and grin, “- so pay up.”

***

“I really should go see Max,” you tell Carlos once it’s just you and him, and an unexpected three hundred Euros in your back pocket.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

You think about it for a second and then nod, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Ok,” Carlos presses a kiss to your temple. “Do you know where he is?”

“Probably still in the garage,”

Carlos laughs, “Yes, I think that might be our best shot.”

***

Sure enough you find Max in the back of the Red Bull garage, going over some data with GP. You walk up to him, Carlos waiting outside because even though they tolerate employees of the sister team in here, you’re not sure it would go over well if you invited one of Red Bull’s main competitors into the lion’s den.

“Max?” You smile as he looks up from the screen and nod towards the pit lane, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

He looks at GP, who nods, “Yeah, we are done here anyway.” Max follows you outside without asking questions and if he’s surprised to see Carlos standing there he doesn’t show it and instead looks at you expectantly, “What do you want to talk about?”

“So,” you draw out, hoping a few extra seconds will help you find the right words, “I have to tell you something. And I need you to not freak out-”

“I won’t-”

“You freak out, Max,” you tell him with a kind smile. “Remember when I told you I missed my flight from Amsterdam and caught a ride with that guy who was driving to Paris so I could take a train from there?”

“Yeah, but that was of course dangerous, Pip,” Max berates you, arms folded in front of his chest now. “He could have been a murderer, or-”

“Yeah, ok,” you hold up your hand to stop him. “This is not that, ok. I am not in danger, so-”

“I’m not going to freak out,” Max says with a heavy sigh, “but you are getting on my nerves. Just tell me what’s going on.”

You take a deep breath and risk one last glance at Carlos, who gives you an encouraging nod, that does nothing to calm your nerves, “CarlosandIareinarelationship,”

Max furrows his brows, “What?”

“Carlos and I,” you repeat, slower this time. “We’re together. In a relationship. It’s very serious, at least uh- For me it is. And I uh-” you know you’re rambling but you can’t seem to stop, “I think Carlos is serious about it as well. I mean, he gave me a bracelet so-”

“Pip,” Carlos puts his hand on your arm and shakes his head, a smile tugging on his lips, “stop.”

You blow out a breath and look at Max, trying one last time, “Carlos and I are in a relationship.”

Max stays silent for a bit but then deadpans in that way only he can, “I of course know.”

“I-” you echo, confused. “You know?”

“Yes.”

“Ho- How?”

Then, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever, “I saw you kissing in the paddock earlier today.”

“Huh.” You look at Carlos, still panicking a little, pointing from you to him and back, “He saw us kissing in the paddock.”

“Seems like he did,” Carlos answers calmly as if somehow he knew Max knew all along.

“Did you know he saw us, or-”

Carlos shakes his head, “I did not but-”

You turn back to Max, “And you’re ok with this?” You’re not sure why you’re trying to self sabotage here but the question comes out almost on its own.

“Of course,” Max looks from you to Carlos as if he’s confused why you’re even having this conversation.

“Ok.” You nod, relieved, “Ok. Cool. Uhm-” you look at Carlos and shrug, “Well, I guess that’s that then.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t seriously hurt you if you ever hurt her,” Max says then, looking at Carlos with that determined look he gets whenever he tries to get his point across.

“I know, cabrón,” Carlos agrees easily enough. He claps Max on his back, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

***

EPILOGUE

It’s after Abu Dhabi and its controversial last race, where Max beats Lewis on the last lap and thus wins the championship, after post-season testing, after a hug goodbye and a promise to stay in contact over the winter break to both Yuki and Pierre, and after a quick stop in Monaco where Max gets off his plane and wishes you safe travels, leaving you in the hands of his trusted cabin crew, that you find yourself on your way Mallorca once again.

This time Carlos is waiting for you at the airport, standing a little to the side so as to not draw attention to himself, a black baseball cap drawn over his eyes, and his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You spot him before he sees you and you swear your heart skips a beat the moment he looks up and you lock eyes with him.

God, you’ve missed him.

Sure, you’ve seen him just about every other weekend since you left Mallorca in August but other than some stolen glances in the paddock, your regular coffee dates, and some very spicy text messages and phone calls, you haven’t actually been with him and it’s gotten more and more difficult as time went by and so it takes everything you have not to run up to him.

Instead, there’s a chaste hug when he greets you, knowing the airport arrivals hall is too much of a public space to do anything but.

It isn’t until you sit down in the passenger’s seat of his car that’s parked in a far away corner in the garage, that he leans in and kisses you fiercely, tongue running between your lips almost immediately. You open your mouth greedily, your tongue chasing his into his mouth before you lick the inside of his cheek, savouring his taste.

Carlos pulls back then and mutters something in Spanish that you don’t quite catch but can figure out the meaning of soon enough when he steps back and rounds the car, leaving you to catch your breath on your own. When he steps inside he throws you a look that makes you shiver but doesn’t say anything, instead starting the car and backing up out of the parking space.

You put your seatbelt on and turn towards him in your seat, whispering a quiet, “Take me home, Carlos.”

***

Carlos circles your nipple with his tongue, making your arch your back, and you can feel him smile against your skin when you let out a quiet moan. He’s cupping your other breast with one hand while the other has two fingers inside you, slowly scissoring you open as his thumb rubs circles over your clit.

You haven’t even made it into the kitchen yet because he’s got you flush against the wall in the hallway, your dress pushed up to your hips and your panties discarded somewhere between the front door and here. “Carlos,” you sigh, your hands cupping his face and guiding his mouth back to yours, the kiss drenched in want and need and-

“I don’t care how we do it,” Carlos says against the corner of your mouth, “but I’m done hiding you from the rest of the world, mami.” He pulls back a little and looks at you, pupils blown wide, “I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

You hum in agreement, throwing your head back so he can kiss his way back to your chest, your hands in his hair now to keep him in place. “All yours, baby,” you whisper, your voice a little hoarse. You cry out when he adds a third finger without warning, your eyes flying open when you feel him drag his mouth from your breasts to your stomach and further down, watching as he drops to his knees and laps at your clit, “Fuck, that’s it. Right there-”

He looks up at you and actually winks before he slides his hand behind your knee and pulls your leg up onto his shoulder for better access.

The quiet whimper you let out when he pulls his fingers out of you is quickly replaced by a moan when you feel his tongue slide inside and he starts eating you out for real. You grip onto his hair a little tighter and grind your hips against his face, quietly pleading, “Don’t stop,” over and over and over again.

***

“Can’t we just stay here forever,” you muse quietly, your fingers ghosting over his chest, sometimes playing with the charm that’s hanging from his necklace. Behind the curtains the sky is a vivid orange, casting a faint glow into the bedroom that makes it feel like you’re in a movie. “I’ve saved up a nice bit of money and I’m sure you don’t have to work like, ever again-” above you Carlos chuckles, “-so I think we could make it work.”

“Maybe. But I know mamà would kill us if we don’t make it home for Christmas, cariño,” Carlos reasons, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “so-”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agree quietly. You look up at him then, “Speaking of Christmas-I have an early Christmas present for you.”

Carlos raises his eyebrows, “Oh?”

You reach over him and grab your phone, pulling up the app you use for scheduled posts and angling the screen towards him, “I want to post this tonight. I’m done keeping you a secret.”

He takes your phone from you and scrolls through the five pictures you’ve edited, showing a curated timeline of your relationship since August, the first one a picture of him that you secretly took yesterday, when you were waiting on your food in a café in Cala d’Or, the rest of them selfies of you and him throughout the moments you shared together until now. His smile grows wider when he reads the caption before he looks at you again, “You sure?”

“Very,” you confirm easily enough and push yourself up so you can let your lips ghost over his. “We’ve waited long enough.”

***

“Ok,” you refresh the page to confirm. “Done.”

Next to you Carlos nods, “Good.”

You’re on the couch in the living room, your feet resting in Carlos’ lap, both of you enjoying a glass of red wine. Before you even have a chance to lock your phone it rings, the name of your best friend popping up on your screen and you can’t help but grin when you show Carlos before you accept the call and put it on speaker, “Hi Maxy,”

“Pip-” his voice catches and so he tries again, “Pip, I think you made a mistake.”

“What are you-”

“You posted to your public account,” Max continues, panic seeping through his voice. “I don’t think- This should of course go on your private account. What if anyone- Oh Godverdomme” he lets out a shaky sigh, “you already have a hundred likes. You need to take it down, Pip, before-”

“Maxy,” you interrupt him with a smile, “breathe.” He’s still rambling and so you try again, “Max Emilian Verstappen, stop. Breathe. And go to Carlos’ profile.”

“But-”

“Do it.” You bite your lip to keep from laughing, Carlos already looking at you with a very bemused smile. In your head you count down, waiting for Max to understand, from three, to two, to one, to-

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” you agree easily enough, knowing Max has just seen the same caption with mostly the same pictures, on Carlos’ page. Except for the first one, where Carlos opted for a picture of you and Piñon sleeping together in the garden.

“So this was on purpose?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

“And the team is ok with this?”

You let out a laugh, “Max, I love you but if you really think we posted this without running it by our bosses first I wonder if you even really know me.”

“Yeah, ok, that’s fair.” You can just imagine the way Max hangs his head. “Well, in that case I didn’t call.”

You can hear him start to say his goodbyes and so you quickly say, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

It stays quiet on the other end of the line for a few seconds but then you hear him let out a heavy sigh that you know is fake because you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Of course. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Maxy,” you say with a self-satisfied smile. “I’ll call you on Christmas Day, ok? Love you.”

“Ik ook van jou.” He clears his throat then, “Oh and Carlos?”

Carlos leans in, apparently not surprised that Max knows he was listening in, “Yes, cabrón?

“You’re very lucky to have her, mate. Don’t fuck it up.”

Carlos shakes his head even though Max can’t see him and looks at you with a warm smile, his hand wrapping around your wrist and his thumb rubbing the charm on your bracelet, “Never.”

Once you’ve said your goodbyes you put your phone on silent and toss it aside and when Carlos looks at you with a frown, you grin, “Everyone else can wait until tomorrow.”

“God, I love you,” Carlos mutters as he leans forward, swinging one leg over your hips so he’s lying on top of you, holding some of his weight off by resting on his elbows. He looks down at you and dips his head then, finding your mouth with his.

The kiss is different, slower, like you’re both desperate to savour every minute because you know there’s no rush. Not anymore. You let your hands run through his hair and when after a while he pulls back and collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath hitting your skin in regular breaths, you wrap one leg around his waist and let out a content sigh, feeling your eyes grow heavy when you whisper, “I love you.”

“Te amo, mi reina.”

- FIN -

#Carlos Sainz x reader #F1 fanfic #CS55 #Carlos Sainz imagine #Carlos Sainz jr #Harley Sunday x Carlos Sainz jr

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