#how is the progress on my request going? see here

[fiastomatocheek]

FIA’S WORK IN PROGRESS

named ‘work in progress’ but let’s be real… it’s actually just a collection of a few requests i said yes to because sometimes inspiration hits after someone drops a spicy idea in my inbox so shoutout to you guys for that! also, even if some of you sent your request without anon, don’t worry i won’t include your username here! i totally get that it might make you uncomfortable, so your privacy’s safe with me.

WHO I WRITE FOR: matt rempe⁷³, quinn hughes⁴³, jack hughes⁸⁶, luke hughes⁴³, fraser minton⁹³, wyatt johnston⁵³, frank nazar⁹¹, macklin celebrini⁷¹, will smith², william eklund⁷²

quinn hughes

↳ req. 01 — dating quinn comes with getting the most random calls from jack and luke all the time because you’re the older sister they never had — but when one night luke and jack call you and tell you how everything’s going to shit in jersey because they’re both injured now, you and quinn get on a plane to help both of them, without a second thought.

jack hughes

↳ req. 01 — hey, fia darling! i was wondering if i could possibly add to the angsty requests. reader is childhood friends with the three hughes brothers, and once the two get to michigan, they're very on and off, no labels kinda thing. they don't speak for a while once he goes to new jersey but they end up seeing each other a couple years later at a family event, like a wedding or something, and they get into maybe a fight that the other didn't try hard enough, but reader has moved on now. i fear i need my heart broken. thank you, also feel free not to write this if you don't like it

luke hughes

↳ req. 01 — i live for angsty marital issues bc that’s real life!! I feel like maybe the main argument in their relationship would be about him not showing up for lucy or reader. I think it’d definitely cause massive tension between the two of them.

↳ req. 02 — dad!luke and reader cuddling after putting their daughter down for bed. she’s not even down for five minutes before she comes padding down the hall and into her parents’ room to snuggle and sleepily yap at them 🥹🥹

↳ req. 03 — hi i was wondering if i can request the current boyfriend trend on tiktok with luke hughes? (will be posted on my mid/plus-size reader blog, @voicemailfromluke-beep)

matt rempe

↳ req. 01 — hii I hope you're having an amazing day so since you told you would write for matt i have a req!!!🤭🤭 we all know matt is a big guy but that doesn't change reader wouldn't be insecure about her weight but not in a bad way just like when he picking her up she told him to no or wouldn't want to sit on his lap because she think she's too heavy for him i don't know matt gives me a really big physical touch vibe 😔 and sorry for my bad writing but I hope you get it what I meant even if I couldn't write it. 😭😭 (will be posted on my mid/plus-size reader blog, @voicemailfromluke-beep)

william eklund

will smith

↳ req. 01 — i have a little request for smitty! possibly based off of "you are in Love" by taylor swift, specifically the lyrics "you keep his shirt, he keeps his word and for once you let go of your fears and you ghosts" maybe the reader has had rocky relationships or been cheated on in the past and will assures her that it won't happen

↳ req. 02 — angst idea with no happy ending!!!! How about reader finds out that will is cheating on her

↳ req. 03 — fia girlie! i've followed you over to this blog finally! would you be open to writing a smitty fic with a plus size reader? maybe something where they go to a sharks gala to like hard launch their relationship and he fully shows her off and loves on her like all night? if you have time babes and are open to writing it! no pressure tho! (will be posted on my mid/plus-size reader blog, @voicemailfromluke-beep)

mack celebrini

↳ req. 01 — cute and fluffy date with macklin during the off season, like maybe they go to an amusement park or maybe to the beach! that'd be soo cute 😍

↳ req. 02 — macklin x reader angst fic where his anger issues get the best of him and it leaves reader very hurt and he feels terrible, have your own twist on it

[loveackermannn]

finally getting somewhere with this ask from my 1k event !!!!! :,)))

i actually might make this into an assassin!levi trope..... it's definitely going in that direction.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Dp x Dc short idea

Jason is Danny’s dad

Warning: Language

Jason had just returned to the family publicly about two weeks ago. It hadn’t even been that long for him to settle before something happened. The press weren’t even off his ass and he has Alfred requesting he return home for an urgent matter immediately, which is butler speak for get your ass here right now!

The family was happy but adjusting to everything. They had mandatory family dinners at least twice a month and voluntarily got together more frequently, mostly just the siblings, but every once in a while Bruce would sneak in for a movie in the family room.

Alfred was pleased with the progress the family has made over the course of many years. It finally felt like everything was coming together and maybe settling down. He knew he thought that too soon when he answered the buzzer at the front gate. They weren’t expecting any visitors and looking at the video feed it was a young woman with hands on her hips glaring back at the camera. There were two large bags with her and surprisingly enough a young child playing in the grass just a short distance behind her.

“Wayne Residence, Alfred Pennyworth speaking, how may I assist you, ma’am?”

“Lettin’ me in for starters,” she says back with venom on her tongue.

“My apologies, but you do not have an appointment.”

She snorts, “Nah, but ya see, I saw that bastard on the news and thought I’d drop off what he gave me.”

To get her point across, she turns and looks back at the little boy not paying her any attention.

“Danny!” She snaps and he jerks his head to look at, who Alfred is assuming is, his mother. “Come here.”

He hops up at his own pace and dusts off the grass on his knees before trotting over. She leans down to angle the young boy away from the camera and pushing back his hair.

He couldn’t see it well before by the way the boy was positioned before, but Alfred could clearly see a prominent patch of white hair on the left lower section by his neck. Just like the white batch on Jason.

“You gonna let us in now?” She asks rudely.

Alfred has already determined he did not like this woman. He still buzzes them in. He contacts Jason immediately followed closely with Bruce.

Alfred then helps the two carry in the bags, while subtly checking for any weapons or explosives. Instead he finds things meant for a child.

He really didn’t like this woman.

Bruce is the first one to arrive down the stairs, pausing towards the bottom. He glances at Alfred and can see the displeasure in the butler’s eyes.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m Bruce Wayne, nice to meet you.”

“Fuckin’ everyone knows who you are, Brucie Wayne,” she huffs with a roll of her eyes.

Bruce glances down at the very young child who is hearing the foul language. He couldn’t be more than five, and completely oblivious as the little boy runs a hand along the wall and looks around at everything. He particularly keeps going back to the shiny chandelier above their heads.

“Who might you be?” He asks the woman, coming back to her as she almost touches the vase on the entry table. She draws her hand back to fold her arms across her chest.

“Grace.”

The name seems ironic compared to her behavior.

“And how can I help you, Miss Grace?”

“Your thought-to-be-dead son left something of his. I’m here to return it.”

It took no detective to determine she was talking about the boy currently using the door frame to the sitting room as leverage to rock back and forth, holding on with his tiny hands. Bruce could see the splash of white among the dark hair from this angle.

Bruce hums.

“Is that so?”

“I’ve already contacted Master Jason. He should be arriving soon. Shall I prepare some refreshments in the drawing room?” Alfred informs.

“Thank you, Alfred. Right this way,” he says to Grace, directing her toward the left while pulling out his phone to ask Tim to prepare the proper equipment downstairs.

“Danny!” The woman calls with impatience. She glares at the little boy who calmly turns to look at her, then skips behind them.

Grace huffs but doesn’t say anything else as they enter the room. She sits herself in the middle of the love seat and Bruce takes one of the chairs across from her. The boy, Danny, explores the room thoroughly, walking around without pattern and investigating every nook and cabinet to keep himself entertained. Very curious little child.

Bruce tries to engage her in conversation to dig up more information, but she firmly wanted to wait for Jason before divulging anything. He did however find out that Danny is four and needs to be enrolled in kindergarten next turn. Grace works night shift but wouldn’t say where.

Alfred came with three waters, one in a smaller plastic cup for Danny, and a plate of crackers and cut up fruit.

Grace eyes the butler with a raised brow. However, the first words Danny has spoken in their presence is a cute, “Thank you, mister,” before munching on a cracker and sipping from his cup. His curious eyes flick over the fruit and wanders over to his mother who picks at a rip in her jeans. He taps her knee and she sighs.

“What is it?”

“What’s that?”

Danny points to the fruit.

“What’s what?”

He creeps forward to point directly at the blackberries mixed in with the blueberries and strawberries.

“Blackberry,” she answers shortly.

“What’s it taste like?”

“Why don’t you try it and find out?”

He must have approved of that suggestion and reaches in to clumsily wrap a tiny hand around one of the dark berries. He flips it over in his hand for a minute, observing it at all angles, feeling the texture of the little bumps, before shoving it in his mouth. Danny leans his body over the coffee table to drag the bowl closer and rummage through it for more goodies.

Really looking at him, Bruce could see Jason’s freckles and the few other similarities like his square jaw and lip shape. He hasn’t seen it yet but Bruce bets Danny has the same crooked grin as his son.

He has the woman’s pale complexion and nose shape. His hair was straight like hers instead of Jason’s curls, but Danny took his dark coloring compared to her light brunette.

The boy was an adorable mix of both his son and this woman. He almost felt the test was unnecessary, but he didn’t stop Alfred from replacing the plastic cup and take it back to the kitchen where he knew it would be handed off to Tim.

Thankfully it was a day where there weren’t any meetings for either of them to attend.

Surprisingly, it isn’t Jason that enters the room first, it’s Damian coming home from school. The fourteen year old, almost fifteen, holds a leash in one hand with Titus standing patiently next to him, ready for his after school walk.

“Father, I heard we have guests.”

The teen stops in the doorway and Danny turns with interest until he spots the animal, then his eyes bug with excitement.

“Mommy, doggie,” he whisper shouts.

She just hums in affirmative, looking the new arrival up and down.

Danny grabs a blackberry from the bowl and trots over to Damian. He holds out the piece of fruit.

“This is a blackberry,” he states proudly.

Damian blinks down at the small child. Titus tilts his head, his nose working hard.

“I’m aware.”

“You can have it, if you let me pet your doggie,” he negotiates like he needed to give something in order to receive permission.

Damian looks up to his father for answers.

“Jason will be here soon,” is what he gets instead, his father’s lips twitch.

Damian looks back down in sudden realization when he sees the similarities between the man and this boy. He sighs tiredly.

“Pennyworth. A wet washcloth if you please.”

“Right away, Master Damian.”

“Next time, you only need to ask to pet Titus, you do not need to give me anything in return,” he tells the child.

Danny looks down at the berry sitting in his stained hands.

“So you don’t want it?”

“…Maybe later.”

“Okay!”

Danny skips back to carefully set the berry off the side on the tray, as if to save it for Damian for later like he said. He jogs the short distance back to them.

“Can I pet your doggie now, please?”

Damian takes the washcloth Alfred hands him with a nod and crouches down to get level with the boy.

“We must wipe our hands first. We don’t want anything sticky in his fur,” he explains as he holds out the washcloth for Danny’s hands.

The four year old looks down at the stains to see what he means and then places his hands on the washcloth for Damian to get the juices off.

The teen then calmly explains how to properly approach a dog he does not know by letting Titus smell the back of his hand first and then to always stay calm and confident.

Titus, the gentle giant that he is, had no problems letting the tiny child pat him and run small fingers through his short fur. It was endearing to hear the giggles when Titus used his big nose to sniff at the child’s face and neck. Sitting down, Titus was taller than the child standing up, which would have been scary to some kids, but Danny seemed to love Titus instantly. The little boy easily telling the dog what a good boy he is even with the dog sitting there doing nothing.

“Titus needs his afternoon walk now,” Damian informs.

Titus stands at the word walk, clearly ready to go.

“Oh, okay.” Danny turns to the big dog to reach up and pat his head twice. “Bye-bye, Titus. Have a good walk.”

The two leave and Danny skips back over to hang over the arm of the love seat his mother sits in, typing on her phone.

“Mommy, did you see the doggie? His name is Titus. He’s a good dog.”

“Uh-huh,” she comments without really listening.

“Do you like dogs, Danny?” Bruce asks with a smile.

Danny looks at him like he forgot the man was there, tilts his head as he studies him for a moment. Bruce waits patiently until Danny deems him okay and perks back up with bright eyes.

“Uh-huh! I love dogs! Mommy says we can’t get one ‘cuz our ‘partment is too small and they’re dirty. You’s guys are lucky,” the boy rambles as he wanders around the coffee table to get closer to Bruce and away from his distracted mother.

“How do you feel about cats? Damian has a black and white one around here somewhere.”

Danny shrugs and they continue to have a rather pleasant conversation about different animals and foods and each of their houses. It takes up the amount of time for Jason to walk through the door, seemingly already informed of the situation from Alfred.

Jason was… flabbergasted. Bewildered. Caught unprepared. He was a lot of words. Mostly he was scared.

Did he really have a child? A son? If that was true then he missed so much. He missed all of his firsts. First words, first steps, first laugh, first everything.

Would the boy even like him? What if he saw all his scars and was scared of him? What if he didn’t want anything to do with Jason after not being in his life this whole time?

But the boy might not be his. There’s that. That could be… Jason didn’t like the disappointment that thought brought.

Grace was the first one he noticed. Her ripped jeans and low cut top being out of place among the antique furniture and Persian rug. She scowls at him, putting her phone down.

“Finally decided to show up?”

He bites back a comment. He broke several traffic laws to get here, it wasn’t his fault he was fourty minutes away at the time he got the call.

He glances over at Bruce and instead his eyes zero in on the child standing by the armchair Bruce was sitting in.

Just one look and he knew the boy was his.

He looks to Bruce anyway for confirmation, since he has no doubt he sent off a sample to Tim hiding like the troll he is in the basement. The man nods. Jason sucks in a deep breath and suddenly needs to sit down.

He sinks heavily in the matching armchair next to Bruce’s, separated only by a round end table. Jason can’t stop staring at those big, blue eyes that are filled with such curiosity and innocence he almost breaks down right then. But he can’t. He has to be strong. He can’t just walk away to get a handle on his emotions. He’s a dad now.

“You’re a hard man to find,” Grace folds her arms over her chest.

“I’ve been busy,” he answers lamely.

She humphs and looks away with a shake of her head.

The boy, Danny Alfred said his name was, creeps around Bruce’s legs to get closer, obviously seeing something in Jason enough to investigate. The room is quiet as they wait to see how Danny will react.

Coming to a stop right before his knees, Danny stares up at the large man with lots of scars and muscles from what he can see. He wasn’t scared. There was just something familiar that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He looks… he looks like… and he also feels almost like…

Furrowing his brows in a pout, he knows his Mommy doesn’t like it when he does it, but he still makes his eyes burn with green.

The man gasps and his eyes also swirl into an angry green.

“Daddy?” Danny asks with hope and joy.

Daddy swallows and then nods.

“Yea, buddy, I’m your dad.”

“Daddy!” The boy cheers, jumping in place with a wide smile. “Daddy! Mommy, look! It’s Daddy!”

Danny wastes no time climbing into the man’s lap and wrapping his arms around him as far as they’ll go (not very far) to press his ear to Jason’s chest over his heart. He’s practically vibrating with excitement and Jason makes sure to set a large hand on his back to hold him close.

“I fuckin’ knew it,” Grace hisses, her eyes wide at the display earlier. Both of their eyes had returned to their calmer blue and teal color, but everyone in the room saw it. “I knew he got it from you.”

His eyes narrow in warning, pulling the boy closer to his chest. He sets a hand over Danny’s exposed ear to protect him from the harsh words he’s probably already heard before.

“Do you have any idea how creepy it is to deal with a tantrum when your kid has fucking glowing green eyes?”

“Did you hit him?” Jason growls, the vibrations seeming to settle Danny even more.

“Please, I’m not my mother,” she dismisses with a sneer.

Could have fooled him.

“Everything was fine until he started doing freaky shit. I don’t know how to raise a meta kid, alright?”

“What are you talking about?”

Now he was just confused. What stuff was Danny doing that Grace thought he was a meta?

“Don’t try to pretend you don’t have powers too,” she points viciously.

“I’m not pretending. I don’t have powers. I don’t have the meta gene. What can he do?” He demands while being transparently clear.

She just glares back at him, obviously not believing him. That didn’t exactly matter at the moment.

“What can he do?” He repeats with emphasis.

She puckers her lips like she’s tasted something sour and then lifts her chin.

“Why doesn’t he just show you, huh? Danny- Would you stop babying him? Danny, show him the things you can do.”

After Jason takes the hand off the boy’s head, Danny turns to his mother warily.

“But you don’t like it,” he reminds, like she forgot.

“He wants to see it, so show him,” she waves a hand at Jason like he just asked for something he would regret.

Danny leans back to look up at his dad.

“You won’t get mad? Or scared?”

He sounds so unsure and scared. As if Jason could ever hate him. Jason really wants to punch something. Preferably something with her face on it.

“I promise I won’t.”

Another parent might have something more profound to say to reassure their child, but Jason was just starting out and honestly, it was more than Bruce would ever say.

Danny thinks for a second before wiggling to get down. He looks back once more at his mother who gives him a ‘get on with it’ motion.

The boy fidgets a little before covering his face with two hands like he’s playing hide and seek, then- disappears. Jason jerks at watching his son blink out of sight like a Martian.

“Boo!” Danny pops back into view, exactly where he was standing before with his hands out like any child on Halloween.

Jason blinks and then starts laughing. This was karma. Danny could literally become invisible, something the Bats train to do for years.

“That was good, buddy,” Jason chuckles, ruffling the kid’s hair.

Danny hesitantly smiles back, a bit of hope and pride in those eyes.

“There’s more,” Grace interrupts, seemingly uneasy with how well Jason reacted.

“Yea?” Jason directs to Danny, his focus on his son.

Danny gives a shaky nod, glancing over worriedly at Bruce who is just silently watching. Jason could see the tension in his shoulders but also the intrigue.

The boy places a hand on the coffee table and focuses on his hand. It took a few minutes of concentration before Danny’s hand went through the table like he was just dunking his hand in a pool instead of through a solid object.

He pulls his hand out and they could see it be slightly translucent.

“That one’s harder to do when I want to,” Danny mumbles.

“You mean it mostly happens on accident?”

Danny nods.

“I drop a lot. And get stuck sometimes.”

Yea, Jason can see how that could be a problem. He can’t imagine how terrified Danny was the first time a body part got stuck in an immovable object. He really wishes he could have been there for him in his panic.

“The last thing is hard too. But I’ve been practicing. Watch!”

Danny jumps once, twice, and on the third time he lingers in the air, coming down slowly like someone in water or astronauts on the moon. Danny pushes off the ground a fourth time, this time floating steadily higher like gravity meant nothing to him.

Despite the kid obviously have done this before and enjoying it with his giggles, Jason stands under him in case he falls. And falls he does. Suddenly, like the strings being cut and gravity taking hold of him again, Danny plummets into Jason waiting arms. The boy grunts on impact and then smiled sheepishly up at his dad.

“Sorry, Daddy. I promise I’m doing better.”

“That’s okay, squirt. I’m glad I was here to catch you.”

Jason plops back into the chair with his child in his lap.

“Anything else up that sleeve of yours?” He teases but is equally as serious.

Danny shakes his head enough to make his hair fluff. Jason looks to Grace for confirmation and sees she is still recovering from Danny’s fall out of the air. How many times has she had to catch him? Or wasn’t able to catch him?

She clears her throat.

“I don’t know if it’s part of it, but he never gets sick. Never even had a cough.”

Children always get sick, that’s how they build immune systems. For Danny to have never gotten even a cold, Jason doesn’t know if it’s worrying or a good thing.

“Any allergies?” Is the first thing on his mind, thinking of what Alfred will need to know.

She shakes her head with a negative hum.

“In one of the bags is a folder with all of his documents. Birth certificate, immunizations, doctor visits. I also made a list of some favorite things and things he hates. It has foods on there too.”

That was… honestly more than he was expecting from her. But it also cements the fact that she intended to drop him off with him and then never see them again. She raised him for four years and she doesn’t even want visitation? Does she not understand there are legal documents she needs to sign to transfer custody properly?

“There are some things you need to sign, but it will take some time to get it sorted,” Bruce chimes in all business.

Long nails swipe through the air like signing her rights away was trivial.

“My phone number and address are on one of the documents. Just tell me when and where.”

She stands to leave and Jason can feel Danny tense up.

“Are we leaving?” He asks worriedly, climbing down from his seat on his dad’s lap. He didn’t want to go.

“You’re staying here. With your dad,” Grace says shortly, not once looking at the boy.

“Are you going home to get the rest of our stuff?”

“No. I’m going home. You’re staying here. End of story.”

Danny visibly thinks on that for a second then scampers after his mother as she leaves the room.

“Is it like Robbie where his mom lives in one ‘partment and his dad lives in a different one?”

Grace sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She’s clearly flustered and is showing it as irritation, but Jason can’t help but trail behind in case she says something that she shouldn’t.

“No, Danny, it’s not like Robbie. I- I am leaving you here and I’m not coming back, okay?”

Jason takes a step forward to draw her attention and send her a look that says ‘choose your words carefully, this is a conversation he will remember for a long time’.

“But- but why? Is it ‘cuz of my things? I’m sorry I scared you, Mommy. I didn’t mean to. I won’t do them again, promise.”

Jason grits his teeth at how desperate his son sounds, trying to keep his mother with him. Even making a promise he can’t keep.

Grace finally looks at her baby. Sees the turmoil and tears in his baby blue eyes. She gets down on her knees to get level and places her hands on his tiny shoulders.

“You will do them again and that’s not a bad thing. Your things are part of you. That’s okay. You’re not in any trouble. I just- I’m in over my head here, Danny. I can’t take care of you the way you should be taken care of, okay? But your dad can, I hope. So I’m leaving you here. With him.”

Danny’s lip wobbles and she has to restrain herself from not hugging him like she always does when he’s upset.

“Then- then you’ll visit, right? Like Chase’s grandma visits him?”

Why is this so hard?

“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you’re gonna see me again. I’m sorry.”

Danny is silent for a while. He wipes his eyes and sniffs.

“Are you goin’ ‘way like Jamal’s dad?”

The ten year old in the same building as them lost his dad in a wrong place wrong time type situation. Jamal had told Danny his dad went away forever so he couldn’t see him again. Grace had told him that when people go away forever, they get put among the stars he loves so much to be remembered.

Grace wears such a pained expression Jason half thought she was about to burst into tears.

“Kinda,” she nods. “So give me a big hug, okay?”

Danny was in her arms before she finished speaking. Jason didn’t exactly know why she wanted to stop all contact, but he had a theory that if Danny really was a meta (and with his powers he was leaning toward believing it) then Grace would want to distance herself as much as possible to protect them both. He met her in Crime Alley, he knew they didn’t live in a good spot. If any one of those crooks saw Danny use any of his powers, they could steal him easily from his single mother. She didn’t want to give those kind of people leverage to get Danny and sell him off. She wasn’t trying to be cruel, she was just trying to do what was best for her kid, even if that meant cutting her out of his life.

He had a strange new respect for her he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Grace takes a heavy breath and pulls away showing Danny’s tear stained cheeks. She wipes them like it would do anything.

“I gotta go now, Danny.”

“No,” he cries and Jason’s heart breaks a little more.

“We gotta say goodbye now. Please.”

Grace is just barely hanging on. Jason knows as soon as she walks out that door she’ll break down.

“I don’t want to. Don’t want you to leave,” Danny whines, trying to keep a strong grip on his mother.

She holds his hands in hers and gives him a serious look.

“You’re going to be fine. You’re gonna be just fine with your dad.” She leans in and whispers, “You’re not alone, Danny. You are never alone. Just look up. Look at the stars, baby, and you’ll be okay.”

Danny pouts, but thinks about those words.

“I like the stars,” he mumbles.

She smiles, probably the first one in a while.

“I know you do.”

She kisses his forehead one last time and stands. Danny whines. She steps away.

“Bye-bye, Danny. I- I love you.”

“Mommy,” he cries, tears and snot coming full force now.

Jason can’t take anymore and picks up his son to hold on his hip.

“It’s okay, buddy. I got you,” he assures. He turns to Grace who is having the internal battle of her life in the foyer. “I got him.”

It’s an assurance to her too, that he will take care of Danny, that he would be there for him. It was a promise.

Grace sees it for what it is and leaves out the front door without another word.

Danny screams and cries and struggles, but Jason holds on tight, scared he’ll fall or use his powers to get away and disappear. The man walks back to the drawing room so his son wasn’t staring at the door longingly.

As soon as Jason sits down, Danny struggles harder since they stopped moving. So Jason stands again, adjusting the boy in his arms and starts pacing a path around the room.

Bruce has already disappeared, not knowing what to do with a heartbroken child crying his eyes out. Alfred has cleared away the tray of snacks, leaving two waters on the table, one in a small, plastic cup. Jason spies Damian poke his head in for a second to see what the matter was, and upon seeing no immediate threat went off wherever. Other than that, father and son were alone to figure themselves out.

Danny was going through a lot for a toddler and Jason didn’t exactly know how to handle what happened either. He tried his best with speaking reassurances into the boy’s hair, but he didn’t know if Danny even heard him over his own crying.

It was a rough first meeting to be frank, but after a while (what felt like ages) Danny cried himself to sleep and Jason felt it safe to finally sprawl out on the loveseat with the boy laying on his chest. Compared to a grueling patrol, that was definitely worse. He never wanted to have to go through that again, but knew as a dad it was part of the job description.

[scarletmika]

Peace and Quiet : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds/Sentry x Former Avenger/New Avenger Witch!Reader

Summary: Sometimes the tower is too loud, and Bob can feel himself getting overwhelmed. He's always found comfort with you, in your room, where he can find peace and quiet whenever he needs it. And you'll never turn him away, finding the same comfort in him.

Warnings: fluff, idiots not realizing how in love they are, two generally kinda mentally ill individuals, SPOILERS I guess for Thunderbolts*

Word Count: 2,369 words

Requests are open!

Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

If there was one thing the Watchtower, which stood high above New York and housed The New Avengers, lacked the most, it was quiet. Given the newest inhabitants of the staple tower in New York, it wasn’t surprising that peace and quiet were hard to come by, or even a moment alone to think.

Between Alexei running through the common room, ranting and yelling about his latest idea for a marketing opportunity for the team, or stories of his glory days, and Ava and John arguing about the smallest things in the world while Yelena tried to get them to ‘desperately shut up’ while Bucky mumbled about his ‘idiotic team,’ there were very few places in the entire building where one could go to find quiet.

Sometimes, peace was all that Bob wanted. There was only one room in his entire new home where he could find it most days, and it was your room.

The team wasn’t entirely shocked by how close you and Bob became in the few short months that Valentina had moved them into the Watchtower, after proclaiming them as “The New Avengers” to the public. From the moment you met in the vault to the moment you held him and helped pull him from his own Void in the middle of the city, everyone could see how much you’d come to care for him in such a short amount of time. Truthfully, of everyone on the team, they knew if Bob was going to lean on any of them for support, it definitely should be you, given you were the only one of them that was ever truly touted by the public as a hero, as an Avenger.

At the moment, you weren’t sure what kind of commotion could’ve been happening upstairs in the common room of the tower. This morning, Ava had thrown a knife across the table at John, who deflected it with his own fork while still digging into his waffles, sending the knife flying toward Bob as you stopped it with a flick of your hand from across the table, magic holding it in place as you send both of your teammates an unimpressed look. In the middle of the day you’d passed by Alexei trailing after Bucky as he left the training room, trying to convince the super soldier that they could make so much money doing their own “Super Soldier Swimsuit Calendar,” which left Bucky mumbling why he had even agreed to stay part of this team as long as he had.

You’d retired to your room within the tower long before you could witness the inevitable dinner fight or argument, as entertaining as it was sometimes to watch your new friends fight. Skipping dinner was something that you’d been doing for months, ever since Alexei wanted to make it mandatory that you eat in the dining room as a “family.” There were too many memories that resided in that room, in this entire tower. It’s how you found yourself on the piano bench by the windows of your room, fingers dancing across the keys to a familiar tune that you’d heard for many years as you hummed the lyrics you knew all too well to yourself. The music helped you not think about the past.

“That sounds really pretty,”

The voice at the doorway of your room startled you, fingers hitting the wrong keys as the progression of the song was interrupted. You whipped around, heart racing for a moment until it quieted, seeing who was standing in your doorway across the room.

“Bob-”

“I’m sorry!” he was quick to apologize, shaking his head as he wrung his hands together, actions that brought that soft smile you reserved only for him to your face in seconds. “I didn’t mean to startle you, or just barge in like this, that wasn’t okay, I’m sorry. You just left the door open, and usually you come grab dinner after everyone has left the table, but I didn’t see you up there-”

“Bob!” you cut in with a laugh, one that ceased Bob’s rambling and brought a shy smile to his lips as you looked at him. “It’s okay, I just lost track of time, that’s all. Also, I’ve told you before you’re allowed to come in whenever you want, when the door is open, you don’t have to apologize. I was just lost in thought, is all.”

Bob seemed frozen in his spot for a moment, just simply looking across the room at you with a smile, before he ducked out of the room for a second before reappearing with a plate.

“It’s not much, but uh…I made you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

He hadn’t admitted it out loud, though he’d thought about it daily, but your laugh was probably the best thing that Bob had ever heard.

“Shut the door and get your cute butt over here with that sandwich,”

Most of their interactions went like this, with a slight flirty edge to your words, something that Bob couldn’t quite decipher was legitimate flirting or just how you talked to him. John and Alexei tried giving him pep talks that you had feelings for him and that he should ‘man up’ and make a movie, all while Yelena tried to tell him to ignore their words and take it one step at a time.

Bob had gone with the ‘one step at a time’ approach, simply just inserting himself into your time over and over again every day. From the moment you’d first met in the vault and you’d flicked John across the room with a single wave of your magic because he’d rushed at Bob, he’d been drawn to your side. Now, living with you every day, he’d found comfort in your presence the most than in all of his new friends. When this sense of comfort turned into romantic feelings, he wasn’t sure, but Bob was terrified at the thought of crossing that invisible boundary in your interactions. He was a mess, and he knew it. What would a hero like you want with the mess of a man he was?

You’d moved over on the piano bench, leaving space for Bob right beside you. The smile hadn’t left your face, even laughing lightly as Bob still managed to sit as far from you on the bench as he could, terrified of invading your personal space.

With the plate placed on top of the piano, you quickly ripped it in half, handing the other half over to Bob. Slices in hand, you ‘clinked’ your half against his, the pair of you laughing quietly together over the little moment. Your eyes stayed on Bob for a moment, smile never leaving and softening even as he looked down at his hands, taking small bites of the sandwich as his cheeks flushed red.

“I uh, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you play the piano before,”

Placing your half of the sandwich back on the plate, your fingers quickly moved back to the keys of the piano, playing that same familiar tune you had before. She glanced over to Bob, his eyes following your movements over the piano keys in wonder.

“I don’t do it often anymore, usually just when my thoughts are the loudest and I need a distraction,” you confided in him as you played. “Piano was something my mother taught me when I was little, she was good at it. Told me I had a knack for it, had me in lessons the earliest that she could put me in them.”

Bob found himself looking at you again, observing you as you played and stared out the window over New York City before you both. He could see it, the slight frown in the corner of your mouth as you spoke.

“You…you said your thoughts were loud?”

You glanced over to him as you played, seeing the hesitation in his question. You gave him the softest of smiles to try and comfort him as you spoke.

“You know how I used to be an Avenger? Part of the original team?” Bob gave you a small nod. “There’s…a lot of memories in every corner of this tower. It’s different now, Valentina has made sure to give it a complete makeover, but I can still feel the memories everywhere. Especially in the dining room. When I saw everyone in there earlier together for dinner, it all came flooding back to me. I just needed to come and find some-”

“Peace and quiet,” it wasn’t a question, it was a statement. You and Bob shared yet another smile, a similar red flush to both of your faces in that moment of understanding. “I look for that too, a lot. Our friends they’re uh, they’re loud.”

Another laugh fell out of you as Bob spoke, nodding your head in agreement with his statement.

“You’re not wrong in the slightest, they’re the loudest people I’ve ever lived with. I’m glad that you’re able to find some peace and quiet here, though,”

“Yeah, it’s usually just when I’m with you,” even Bob seemed surprised at his own comment, stumbling for a moment as he tried to understand where that came from within him. “That uh…sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come off as-”

“If that was your first attempt at flirting in awhile, I have to hand it to you Bob you aren’t half bad at it,” the giggle that fell from your lips fell in line with the music that you were still playing as Bob ran his hands down his face, shaking his head over the entire thing. “Come here.”

Bob hesitated for a moment, but that moment didn’t last long. He slid across the bench to your side, legs pressed together and shoulders just barely touching. You stopped playing for a moment, turning to him with a smile as you flicked your hands, magic dancing from your fingers as it flipped the sheet music in front of you back to the beginning of the book.

“Have I mentioned how cool your magic is?”

“Just about every time I use it in front of you, though I wouldn’t mind hearing it again,”

“Well…it’s really cool. Do you think you could uh, maybe show me how to play?”

“Give me your hand,”

You took hold of Bob’s hand, placing it on top of the keys and laying your own on top of his, spreading your fingers to cover his own. Both of you flushed, silently hoping the other couldn’t hear the intense beating of both of your hearts at the gesture.

“Just relax and let your fingers do what I tell them to,” you told him softly, experimentally pressing one of his fingers down onto one of the piano keys. “This is a song Steve used to play all the time, here and in the compound. It was hard not to get it stuck in your head after so long.”

“Does it bring up memories?”

“Yes, but good ones,”

Bob felt himself relax, something he hadn’t truly done in a long time. In the rush of it all, there had been very few moments to relax since he’d awakened in that vault just a few months ago. He felt truly at peace as you worked your magic, dancing his fingers across the keys in the same patterns as the sound of the piano was the only thing playing in the room. Your eyes lay on your hand and Bob’s together as you helped him play the music, but his eyes rested solely on the side of your face.

“Can you…can you sing the words?”

You didn’t answer him, instead doing just as he asked.

“Never thought that you would be standing here so close to me. There's so much I feel that I should say,” you sang in the softest voice you could muster, glancing up at Bob’s flushed face as she smiled at him. “But words can wait until some other day…Kiss me once, then kiss me twice then kiss me once again. It’s been a long, long time.”

Bob smiled, every memory and bad thought tucked away in his head fighting to get out simply background noise at this point, every one of his senses invaded by you instead, and he never wanted you to leave.

“Haven't felt like this, my dear since can't remember when. It’s been a long, long time,” you bumped your shoulder with Bob’s, smile growing andchest fluttering with an emotion you knew was far some simple fondness at this point as he laughed at you. “You'll never know how many dreams I dream about you…or just how empty they all seem without you…”

Your singing trailed off as you and Bob simply looked at one another. The piano keys beneath your two hands ceased playing as you took a leap of faith, sliding your hand into Bob’s as you fingers intertwined together. You could hear the sharp intake of breath from Bob at the initial contact, but it didn’t take long for his hand to mould to your own, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him anchored to the world and keeping the Void inside him at bay. 

With one hand still playing the piano, music drifting through the room, your head made it’s way to Bob’s shoulder, tucking itself into the space between his shoulder and neck as you stared out at the setting sun over the New York City skyline. It didn’t take Bob long to rest his head back against your own, every ounce of tenseness in his body leaving as he settled against you, overwhelmed by the feel of you against him, grounding him in the real world and keeping his thoughts at bay. Just two people who found one another, basking in the peace and quiet they’d found in each other.

They were none the wiser to Yelena right outside the bedroom, peaking through the doorway that Bob had forgotten to close in his haste to enter the room, smiling softly at the pair closer together than ever before, and shut the door to give them the privacy that they deserved together.

[kisses4themissus]

Obsessive Lover || Hwang In-ho X reader

wc: 2.4k request: an obsessive!reader who joins the games for in-ho but turns her gaze to player 456. a/n: this is actually my fav concept I've written so far!!

masterlist ¦ pt 2

“Ms y/l/n, you can’t keep chasing after an unknown man.” The therapist sighed as he sat down across from you at the table. You sighed as you swirled around your water.

“He’s not unknown. I’m being honest he knows of me, i can feel it!” You giggled at the therapist. He sighed before writing something down on his small notepad be had beside him. You watched as he jolted something down and quickly flipped it over so you couldn’t be able to read it.

“Moving on, you haven’t made progress in six sessions ms y/l/n.” The therapist placed his hand on your thigh, you flickered it off before standing up and walking to the door.

“What progress? You mean you trying to get me to sleep with you?!” You chuckled at his shocked expression; majority of his clients had been woman. You weren’t there for his sympathetic therapy but rather he was quickest way to gain debt.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You groaned as you sat on a bench, waiting for the next train. You dug through your bag before pulling out your phone; zooming in on the map to a familiar memorial site. 

“May I sit here miss?”

You nodded, not looking up from your phone’s map. “Lost?” The same man questioned. Putting down your phone you glanced at the man with an upset look. He had his hair combed back, his briefcase place between the two of you. 

You blinked at the man before grinning at him. “Let me guess, you want to play a game?” You batted your lashes at the man, he chuckled in response. “I was told that you happen to be looking for a certain someone..” He motioned towards your phone.

You nodded, turning it off before scooting closer to the man. “Possibly, do you know how to get me there?” 

He nodded and opened his suit jacket and handed you a card. “Just call the number.” He winked before getting on the next train. You watched as he left before flipping the card over to see the number. You grinned before stashing it in your phone case. 

- - - - - - - - - - -

Weeks had passed since your encounter with the recruiter. You had entered the games and were picked up on halloween.

Classical music filled your ears as you woke up from your deep sleep. Looking around you watched with curious eyes as other players got up from their bed and made their way to the middle of the room. You quickly got up and looked around the room.

Your gaze stopped at player 456, he stood at the end of his bunk, his eyes lowered as he watched everyone. “Upset?” You questions, he glanced at you before sighing. “These people don’t know what they’ve signed up to do.” 

You tilted your head at his words. “You know something don’t you?” You questioned.

He looked at you before motioning to the wall behind his bunk, you followed his gaze to see a camera above you both, you smiled and waved, player 456 glared at the camera before tugging you away.

“These games aren’t what you’re expecting.” He spoke sternly, you felt your face heat up at the short distance between you both. “Are you going to protect me then?” You smirked at the older man. He stared at you for a moment before distancing himself from you. “I’ll try to keep you alive if you listen to me.” 

You nodded at his words. The big metal doors in the middle of the room opened to reveal pink guards, the square guard walked up to the front of the room, catching eyes of the players.

Player 456 walked further down the steps of the bunks, you quickly skipped after him. You both listened as the square explained everything, a big piggy bank had lowered down from the ceiling. “Don’t be tempted, it’s all blood money you’d be spending.” Player 456 whispered to you, earning a nod. “I’m not after money here.” You grinned at the man, who shook his head and turned his attention back to the pink manager. 

- - - - - - - - - - -

After you had signed a wavier, you had been told a game would soon begin. You had stuck beside player 456 and even his friend who he had met on the stairs. You had gotten 456’s name due to his friend yelling it out on the steps.

The bright sun filled your sight as you three stepped outside, you eyed the giant statute of a doll on the opposite side of the field. “What’s that thing?” You questioned out loud, player 390 gasped as gi-hun popped out his dental implant. You turned back and stared at the dental implant before taking it from gi-hun’s froze hand.

You inspected the small implant and giggled as the inside had been missing a tracker. Gi-hun stared at the doll in horror as the voice spoke up over the speaker. “The first game will be red light, green light!” 

You quickly pocketed the dental implant with a sigh before turning back to gi-hun and his friend.

Gi-hun quickly pushed his way to the front, leaving you alone with his friend, jung-bae. You listened as the voice told the instructions over the speakers. Gi-hun yelled and got everyone’s attention.

You both listened as gi-hun yelled. “If you lose, you die!” Everyone around you laughed at him, you furrowed your brows at his words. “What is he even talking about?” Someone yelled out from behind you.

“Is he high?!” 

You glared at the woman beside you. With a scoff you shoved her away. “If they catch you moving they will shoot you from above!” He yelled ot, a bit frustrated no one took him serious. Whirling came from the doll as it turned around and raised it’s hand to touch the fake tree, five minutes popped up on the board behind the doll.

Gi-hun turned back to the crowd. “Whatever happens don’t panic and just keep running.” He yelled out.

The doll began to speak. “The hibiscus flower has bloomed.”

You quickly listen to gi-hun’s words and ran. As the doll turned back you were right by gi-hun. His eyes ran over the crowd of frozen players. “FREEZE!” He yelled out.

You watched as the doll turn around. The eyes moving in different directions, once confirmed no one had moved it turned back once more. You had made it halfway across the field before tripping right before the doll turned around. You laid on the dirt, frozen. Once in the clear you scrambled to get up but stopped as another player, 196 stepped on your hand. You scoffed as you glanced up at her. 

“You bitch!” You cursed as she stopped on your hand. “Oops!” She grinned down at you.

You froze once more as the doll turned back to you all. You held back groans as she purposefully moved her weight to her heels, adding pressure to your hand.

Once in the clear, you had been able to get up, a familiar build had stepped in front of you. Gi-hun helped you up before stopping as the doll turned. 

From the corner of your eye you had seen the player that stepped on your hand move as a bee landed on her neck. She stopped and laughed, “Crap, I moved!” As she laughed, she was shot in her forehead.

“Don’t panic, stay calm!” Gi-hun yelled as he heard the gunshot. “Player 196 has been eliminated!” The announcement rang out on the speakers. You tensed up as gunshots began to ring from behind you as other players screamed and scrambled.

Once stopped the rules repeated over the speakers, before a list of players who had died. Gi-hun quickly ran to the front and began to direct everyone.

In-ho watched quietly in his living quarters as he watched gi-hun help player live. He quickly poured whiskey into his glass and reclined a bit in his chair as he watched players begin to form lines.

As it had gotten to the end. In-ho furrowed his brow as he watched gi-hun and another player both fall to the ground before the doll turned. He watched confused as gi-hun’s back covered the other player.

You stared up at gi-hun who stared directly into your eyes. You smirked at the older man. “In front of everyone? Didn’t think you had it in you!” You giggled at his fluster reaction. “When that doll turns we ned to get up and across the finish line!” He commanded, making you nod.

Once the doll had turned you both had sprung onto your feet and ran to the finish line, barely making it in time as the timer hit zero.

You panted with a grin on your face, suddenly the roof had began to close above you all.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Once back in the dorm everyone had been silent. You sat on the bed steps by gi-hun. “Thank you for saving me!” You smiled at the man, who nodded. “Thank you for listening to me.” He thanked you before moving his gaze to his blood splattered cover shoes. With a sigh you sat down beside him, leaving little to no space.

“Gi-hun, how did you know about the doll’s eyes being able to shoot people down?” You questioned. He sighed as his attention was his hands. “It’s not the doll, there are soldiers that are hidden.” He avoided the main part of your question.

Jung-bae walked over to you both and stood in front of you two. “How did you know about that doll? Is it true you’ve been here before?” Jung-bae questioned. 

Before gi-hun could respond the big metal doors opened, out walked pink triangles and their square once more, as the manager spoke about voting you watched as they set up a machine.

You watched as the room darkened and the piggy bank filled with money. Gi-hun sighed and tugged on your wrist to catch your attention. “No matter how much there is in that piggy bank, you have to vote to leave!” He pleaded as you held his gaze.

You nodded as you stared into his brown eyes. As voting began you watched as players were divided. When you had finally gone up you winked as you passed gi-hun. You pressed down on the X and received a patch, you quickly attached it to your jacket before bouncing over to gi-hun’s side.

You both watched as the vote finally tied, you all watched as the final player walked to the machine. The machine made a sound, gi-hun looked defeated as the board read out 51. “Very well, majority have vote to keep the games going.” The square announced.

In-ho turned back to face the crowds, his eyes focusing on gi-hun. His gaze shifted as he watched a familiar stalker comfort the man, leading him to the bunks.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You sighed as you sat next to a frowning gi-hun. “You said you’ve been here before, correct?” You asked, holding onto his arm. “Three years ago..” He nodded.

“You have advantage, you know what games were played.” You grinned, he sighed rolling his shoulders back. You both had spent the time talking about his previous game and the games he had to play in. You were interrupted by the workers announcing dinner. You quickly popped up and lead him to the line to get your food.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You sighed as you waited to hand back your dishes to the staff. You grew bored of waiting, you turned around to check on gi-hun, a crowd of player had formed around him your gaze had stopped as you recognized one of the player number 001; the one who had stopped gi-hun’s wish of leaving the place with everyone alive. You scoffed at the players who surrounded the man, asking him questions of his previous game.

Once your dishes had been handed back. You marched over to the now empty space. You sat back down next to gi-hun, watching player 001 with careful eyes. 

“If we stick together, everything should work out just fine!” Jung-bae exclaimed, another player hopped off their bunk and joined the conversation. “He’s right sirs, oh and miss.” Player 388 nodded in agreement to jung-bae’s words.

“Who are you?” Jung-bae questioned.

“Oh i’m dae-ho, kang dae-ho! I’m a big fan of this guy since his awesome freeze earlier!” He grinned, holding his hand out for the men to shake.

You nodded as you watched the man in front of you. You sighed, slipping your hand into your pockets, a sharp poke made you jump for a moment before grinning at the memory of gi-hun’s implant in your pocket.

“I’d like the pleasure of getting to know you all!” 

You hadn’t noticed the stare of in-ho as you were busy fiddling with the implant in your palm. Jung-bae had gotten up from where he sat and walked over to the young man and rolled up his sleeve. 

“You were in the marines?” Jung-bae asked, standing back crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes sir.”

“Class number?” He questioned, puffing out his chest.

The younger man laughed at the question. You all watched with amusement as jung-bae unzipped his jacket to reveal his marine tattoo. Gi-hun sighed at his friend. You leaned over and laid your head on gi-hun’s shoulder. “Thank you for saving me again, i’ll protect you from now on in here!” You smiled at the older man who shook his head at you.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to do that.” Gi-hun cleared his throat, trying to push down the feeling of fluster you had given him.

In-ho watched with jealousy, he had known who you were; the stalker you had gained a fascination with him. Sending him letters to his old office, visiting his ex-wife’s grave, leaving her flowers. You had been admitted to a mental hospital for delusions. He was a bit excited when he had heard the news you had drowned yourself in debt to get his attention, he had sent the recruiter after you, hoping to see your obsession in person.

It was offensive that you had switched your toxic gaze to the “loser” winner; seong gi-hun. You had careless of his identity being in front of you but brushed him to the side as you cuddled into gi-hun’s side.

“You two seem close, it’s cute.” In-ho’s word dripped of sarcasm, you had picked up on it and glared at the player before turning to dae-ho and jung-bae. 

“You seem like an asshole...” You muttered under your breath.

pt 2

[fairene]

gravity / ln

lando norris x fem!reader

reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.

where your life with him is just beginning.

yes! yes! i have insane brainrot for lando norris! yes! this is meant as a single 'oneshot' of sorts, but i am open to taking requests of this so called 'universe.' reader here is a stem major, particularly physics (shoutout to the stem students!) which helps perfect the progression. also was inspired by interstellar.

wc: 15.2k woops!

warnings: smut! -- MINORS DNI!!, porn with a lot of plot! angst, drinking, language, friends to lovers, corruption kink (minor), choking, soft!top lando.

it was all consuming; he was, at least, with his curly hair, upturned eyes, smile that brightened the entire room. utterly irresistible, any woman could agree. they’d jump his bones the second he gave them a lingering glance, a playful wink.   but that’s all it ever was with those girls— glances, observations. but you, on the contrary, were a fixation. an obsession, one might call it— actually, someone has before. but you ignored it and let it fly over your whimsical head. how could a man like lando norris ever glance in your direction like he did those models, influencers? 

you were always just his friend. his best one, yours too you’d admit only in the solace of your lonesome in the hours of the evening. you met him when you were studying abroad in london at the ripe age of nineteen. you were there on a research term for a professor at your university, though it was much far north of london's borders. still, the girlfriends you managed to make would insist on your attendance to the night club scene on the town. 

who were you to deny any pleasantries? a hardworking student. a student with a vision, a dream to be more than what society compressed women to be. you’d rather be out to the stake like a medieval witch than become a loftily homemaker. while it was some of your friends desires, yours stretched far beyond the horizon of which any life was palpable. 

a nerd in short terms. 

you studied physics. with as much fun as your girlfriends had in the club, you found it in the quiet evenings if your research. you’ve devoted a great deal of time for your studies, but hey— every girl lets go here and there. 

the one time you did, you met him. in the late evening hours of the bustling club, drink in your hand, short dress sticking to your sweaty skin, he scared your close friend, laurel.

“boo,” he had said with a low tone, grabbing the girl with a blonde bob by the shoulders. she shrieked despite the loud atmosphere and spun around, slapping him on the chest. 

“lando!” she exclaimed, which had your attention drawn upward from the half bitten olive in your martini. he was taller than her, than you, muscularity built with a low taper cut of chestnut hair. he was freckled, and the first thing you noticed about him was the way that his eyes smiled. 

they curved up at the edges and you could feel the warmth of the sun drip in from the rooftop. even though it was past midnight at this point. 

“i didn’t know you were coming,” laurel breathed at an awkward pace then turned to face you. she outreached her hand for you to take with your free one. you did, feeling warm from the alcohol that you had downed from the night. 

“lando, this is my bestie from school,” she introduced you by name, to which you gave a small, dramatic courtesy towards the brit. his eyes caught on your act, gleaming with something you could even see in the yellow hued lights of the club. “this is lando norris, rookie of…what team again?”

you glanced from laurel to lando, brows raised. he hesitated for a moment, gracing you with a lopsided smile that, in time, you’d come to adore. 

“mclaren. formula one racing.” he answered, taking a hand to brace the back of his neck. he felt the need to clarify for you, which you took in earnest. he earned a light ahh in your reaction. 

you were impressed, to say the least. you hadn’t ever met a formula one driver in the flesh, nor you could say you were a devoting fan. of course you knew what it was, watched it on sundays when your uni friends would turn it on, but that was it. as smart as you were, it seemed that someone knew more about something than you did. you reeled. 

“and you like it?” you said after a beat, swirling the toothpick inside the olive around your finger. lando seemed to contemplate your words, taken back by such a question. without a doubt he liked racing, otherwise he wouldn’t do it. but that’s not what she was asking, was she? it weighed on him more as his mind unraveled the layers to such a question, but he ended on a simple answer:

“i don’t know if i could love anything more.” a jest, playful and lightheaded when it came from him. 

but how the whims would be tested over the years. 

────────────

a year later

“a whole season, lando?” you asked him, hands drawn out before you to iterate the sincerity of what he was asking. 

a season of going to races with him.

you were graduating within the next two semesters. twenty two now, whereas he was twenty three. but you had qualified to graduate early, as your intent was to do as such, but the tempting leave of absence form that sat in your lap tempted you even further. 

you sat in his monaco flat, a frequent place you visited or stayed until you recently gained residency in monte carlo. it was efficient enough for what you needed to do for work— france around the corner, italy to the west. the best physicians rallied in europe, and staying in the isolated united kingdom was not the best option for you. you caved at his months of pleading to move to monaco. 

your legs crossed as you glanced from his pacing, anxious position. your fingers tapped incessantly at the piece of paper before you, pre-addressed envelope sitting on the coffee table. 

“why not?” he questioned, putting his hands up in defense, stopping before you. he looked down at you, his heart thundering in his chest. say yes he wanted to plead. his knees felt weak. wobbly as your eyes looked back at him, determined. he loved that look. it drove him wild, enchanted by how the cogs of your brain turned. 

you sighed, looking off to the side out the floor to ceiling window. “how would i even pay for all—“

“you wouldn’t drop a pound.” 

you were taken back. you could never expect him to pay for that. you knew he was well off, given his hefty contract, but you are friends. friends don’t use each other for money. 

“lando—“ you began to shake your head. 

“no, no, don’t do that.” he stopped you, earning a glare from you. he shivered, relishing in how vindictive you could be. he hasn’t seen it many times untamed, but the fantasy had his blood roaring. “if money wasn’t a problem, would you come?”

“well—“ you attempted to come up with a defense, but nothing formed. you were at a loss of words. “what would i even wear?”

it was february when you touched down in jeddah. lando has instructed you to fly on the jet with him, side by side for the entire eight hour journey. 

you were taken back by the sudden personal touches and longing looks from him. something has changed. over the past year he’s had a few girlfriends, none of them serious so he’s told you, and you believed him. your blind affliction to nod your head and whisper okay was the only way you found that you could truly protect yourself. ignorance is bliss, or whatever the poets say. 

with your legs crossed the entire flight and eyes peering from the window, you never once felt lando’s eyes drilling into your face. though he was entirely enamored by your bravery, your understanding how important this was to him. 

you may be the only one to truly understand his passion. as he began to understand yours. 

on your lap was a research journal translated from german. your professor had sent it over to you for your leave of absence, along with ideas for your masters thesis. she was a kind woman and you appreciated all the work she has done to support you. especially translate it from german. 

you tended when you felt lando spread his legs, knee bumping into your calf. but you didn’t shy away. 

“what’re you reading?” 

“do you really want to know?”

he didn’t hesitate. “why wouldn’t i?”

your chest tightened at his soft tone. you’d never get used to that, would you? when you were in such close proximity with him, he would become so gentle, caring. not that he wasn’t in public spaces but… what was the word you were looking for?

intimate

“after your season i fly to germany to finalize my thesis. i’m still struggling on a topic, but…” you flip back a few pages in the book which was messily annotated and sticky-noted. you stopped on the event horizon section. “this one caught my eye. always fascinated me.”

lando scanned the page. it wasn’t the words he was reading, but the marks you left behind. messily written notes in the margins, smeared ink, bright orange notes with rather… rushed drawings of a black hole, surrounded by streams of… “what is it?”

your eyes glimmered. lando wanted to take a picture of you then, turning from your corner of the window and towards him. your palms smacked the page as you excitedly explained the phenomenon in far too great detail for lando to really pay attention, but he was so engrossed in your intellect and pure passion that slipped past your lips. your sweet, honeyed lips—

“lando?”

��hmm?”

“what will it be like?”

“what?”

“all of it.” your fingers tended around the journal creasing the pages unbeknownst to you. 

lando reached over, not thinking rationally, and grabbed your hands. they were colder than his. he was always warm. so warm. a light gasp left your lips when you looked up at him. 

“i’ll give you some pointers. ready?”

you nodded. 

────────────

he kept a hand on you at all times. unhindered by any sudden movement, feigning to latch at the small divot of your back. you’d grow used to its presence as you scaled the tarmac, hopped into the passenger seat of the mclaren— opened by him— and glanced down at how his hand made claim to the skin of  your thigh the entire drive. 

he’s stressed. you’d tell yourself, not thinking anything more of it. because what else could it be?

────────────

the entire time you kept modesty in mind. you had pestered lando about your choice of attire, thinking specifically about the nature of your outfits. 

“i don’t want to be disrespectful.” you said sternly, looking between the stylist lando paid to dress you, and him. it was your debut at lando’s side and you were determined to make the right choice. you were never usually like this— cold and bullheaded, but he was growing to…enjoy it more than he should. 

you stood there tapping your foot with your arms crossed. you shrugged towards the outfits she provided you. you shook your head at a few and decided to ask. 

“what about orange?”

orange.

lando thought about falling to his knees for you right then and there. to see you sporting his team colors for him was a dream that he would never want to wake from. 

the stylist nodded, raking through the options. there was one that was made of silk, a dress that covered you to the ankles, to the forearms. an abaya it was called. if you were going to be representing lando, which he mentioned on the plane, then you were going to do it right. 

and you’ll be damned before you’re ever wrong. 

────────────

you certainly underestimated the crowds. 

with the season opening, you and lando had been swarmed upon your arrival. he warned you of this, but to which the gravity of it you greatly underestimated. 

your fists bawled at the material of the dress, clenching with unspoken anxiety. you were never much of a public person, but you’d be willing to find out if that were true or not today. 

“hey,” lando nudged your shoulder. you glanced at him with a light smile. “you got this.”

that comfort was enough alone to let you be pulled from the car. lando opened the door for you. immediately swarmed by flashing cameras and the devilish heat of the middle eastern sun. 

questions were thrown at him about you, who you were, and you’d let him do all the talking. 

you straightened your posture, gripped the handbag tightly, and kept a soft smile to your features. 

lando would stop on occasion to sign some memorabilia, which was a perfect time for you to observe. he was kind with the people who were such loyal fans to him. dressed in the mclaren jerseys, hats, he’d sign anything that was thrown his way. even some arms were thrown in his direction. 

it was endearing for you. watching him thrive in his element. your heart warmed at the sight. a new found affection blossoming in the pit of your stomach. 

a thump was heard on the ground before you. you turned, glancing back at lando who kept moving forward. it was a mclaren hat dropped by a teenage girl wrapped in a similar garment to yourself. you traipsed over, crouching down to pick it up, and hand it back to her. 

“here,” you offered in a sweet tone. your smile was brighter. the girl was clearly elated, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“are you and lando dating?” came a question from the girl beside her. she was earned a slap to the shoulder, being called rude.

you laughed lightly, shaking your head. “no, no, friends from home is all.”

you saw a phone held up, recording the interaction. but it didn’t scare you. why would it?

“do you want to wrap your hijab? it’ll fly loose in the wind…” the girl asked nervously, placing the mclaren hat on her covered head. you were taken back for a moment, glancing down at the rather lazy job of the stylist, and took intent note that it was rather windy today. it would be hard for you to maintain it by yourself. 

“you would do that for me?” you took a step closer to the barricade, which had lando snapping his head over his shoulder to wonder where you went. 

he ogled, watching as a young girl began tying the ends of the scarf in an intricate, skilled manner around your collarbones, your neck. his eyes were caught on the smile you graced, the laugh that left your lips. it was such a delicious sound, intoxicating, one that he wished to drown in. if that were his fate, he’d gladly accept it. 

his staring was noticed, fans beginning to call his name louder. he swallowed, hands flexing at his side before he signed a few more hats and posters. 

────────────

what you didn’t expect was the way that lando looked in his fire guard suit. the black emblems that contrasted his tan skin, bolstered the tone of his muscles. there was barely anything left up for the imagination as you brought the tip of your finger to your mouth, crossing your legs on the orange couch. you couldn’t seem to sit still. 

“you alright?” he asked out of concern, but you didn’t miss the slight curve of his mouth. he knew what you were thinking.  you were always so responsive to him, so good, even when there were no words transpired. 

“peachy!” you confirmed, sitting back against the couch, your leg bouncing as you tried not to let your eyes meddle on the muscles of his neck, the veins in his hands, the bracelets that dangled from his wrists. 

he gave you a look of doubt before his teammate walked in with a girl at his side. oscar, you remembered. you had met before briefly at a press conference you attended in monaco. the girl beside him was his girlfriend— she was entirely too sweet and studied a similar focus as you did. 

the two mclaren drivers patted each other on the back, while the woman approached you. she sat beside you with a tick of picking at her fingernails.

your hand found its way on top of hers. “first time, too?” 

she nodded and introduced herself formally. you did the same. you laced your fingers with hers, stopping the habit from ruining her lovely nailbeds. 

lando watched the interaction from over oscar’s shoulder, a cheeky smile etching onto his face. oscar caught wind of his inattention, and glanced over his own shoulder briefly. 

he turned back to lando with a toothy grin. “i’ve been trying to get her to stop that habit.”

because within the matter of minutes you were both talking, not once did his girlfriend raise her fingers to her mouth. 

────────────

you pulled and fixed at the collar of his race suit. lando sucked in a low, tight breath. you missed the sound, focused on making sure he looks presentable for the national anthem. it would be any minute he’d climb into the car to do a practice lap. 

when you were satisfied with the result, you dusted off the top of his head and was going to let your hand fall to your side. but there was a stain of soot on his chin. 

without thinking twice, you grabbed his chin between your fingers. his eyes went wide at the action. his fists clenched at his side, body rigid with the feeling of your unexpected touch. 

you licked your thumb before wiping it away, his stubble rough against your fingers. his head crooned visibly into the shape of your hand. the warmth from his cheek getting slightly hotter. heat rushed to your own face, flushing you in your orange dress. 

whatever moment was transpiring between the two of you, you didn’t want it to end. neither did he. his breathing softened, but his heart was pounding. your thumb swirled over his cheek once before you gripped him tighter. 

“you got this, lan.”

there was the first time you graced him with that nickname. the rest was history for him, knowing that he was a dead man walking at your side. if you weren’t going to be his, he would ruin you. such sickening thoughts had him mulling over what you meant to him. you made time out of your busy schedule for him, and so did he. you were there to answer his calls. he was there to be at your beckon and call. he would wreck his entire career if it meant your undivided attention. 

he would pivot, skid, take more reckless actions on the track if it meant having your hands on him. your eyes. your love. he wanted it all with you, he learned, from that first weekend in jeddah. with your communally wrapped headscarf, caring nature, your determination… he wanted it to be his. he wanted you to flourish with him. he wanted to be the reason you blossom. 

with your unwavering strength at his side, he could conquer the world. fuck the championship, he wanted it all to be with you. maddening thoughts would consume him day and night after that first weekend, knowing there was only more to come throughout the season. he could only imagine how these months would fare, but he didn’t bide into fantasies. he would expect the unexpected and let you consume him entirely. 

────────────

miami was everything you thought it to be. bustling with life, parties, music. it was a stark contrast to what your life at university looked like— though you didn’t mind the occasional outing, of course, especially when lando was at your side. 

he was a beam of light crafted by the gods of the sun, brightening every room he stepped in. he was utterly magnetic, drawing others around him, letting them have a joyous laugh. it made you giddy, proud, that he could hold himself so well in the mediocrity of the crowds. while you etched yourself at his side, clamoring for his shadow, he held you tightly at every opportunity. 

his hand at your back, clutching for dear life. warm and soothing, you’d lean into him, clutching the hem of his black mclaren shirt. 

it had been a friday night. his free practices had been stellar as you watched eagerly from the mclaren paddock. you’d earned a status of earning a headset, your consistent attendance rivaling tidal waves in the media. you always told yourself not to look, not to peek, but you couldn’t help it. 

accounts were created in your honor. in your fan name. the mclaren fans loved you, and you loved them. the video of your first appearance at the paddock had gone viral within the community. your sensibility for adhering to culture norms gained you rapport. though you didn’t know why— why wouldn’t you dress appropriately? it grudged you how low the media could stoop, but you were honored nonetheless to gain such positive attention. 

of course there were the negatives. some were born to hate and you could live with that. many thought you were using lando for his money, just another stupid girl who didn’t deserve to be at these races. you kept yourself modest from the media with a private account, similar to charles girlfriend, and found that it was better to remain a mystery to those who weren’t a part of your life. you owed them nothing. 

though you never breathed these negatives to lando. he would be furious and absolutely say something in public. the last thing you wanted was for him to fight your own battles, yet you thought this nothing to be more of a playground spat. you could handle it; lando doesn’t call you sting for no reason. 

on the bright side, you had a steady, growing relationship with oscar’s girlfriend, and even considered each other to be best friends. 

though lando would disagree ardently, reminding you that he was always first, no matter the circumstance. he’d whine like a child and pout. how could you resist that face? even when you would playfully hold up four fingers and raise your brows, his number four, contrary to one, he’d scoff and laugh, your ability to see through him was astonishing. 

at the club tonight there were bottles and bottles of champagne being opened and passed around in the driver's honor. in your time there you had grown close to all drivers, except a few give or take. but while you carved relationships with the boys, it was the women you sought refuge in. 

charles' girlfriend, a tanned brunette sweetheart, would bake for you. in return you would host wine nights with the other women. you’d become accompanied with her new furry companion, little leo leclerc, and you fell in love with him instantly. his little licks of appreciation, his tiny wagging tail. gosh, you loved the pup. 

carlos’ partner, rebecca, had intimidated you at the beginning. she was tall, fierce, blue eyes unwavering with confidence as she spoke of deep experience throughout her years in the paddock. it took her longer to adjust to your presence, feeling doubtful of your friendship with the british driver, but changed her mind when she saw you dehumidifying lando’s race suit that hung in the tents in japan’s humid weather. 

no one stood around you whilst you did that. no one asked you to. you did it because it was ruthlessly hot and you didn’t want lando to contract a heatstroke. 

lily held a place in your heart that none of these girls could truly replace. she was your rock from the first race. you both learned together, wrought each other of the nail biting habits, and laughed amongst the radio calls between the pair of drivers. 

the rap music thundered the floor you stood on. heels tall and encompassing, you’d admit plainly you got used to the treatment lando awarded you. nothing but the best, he told you one evening under the moonlight. the words were imprinted in your mind. 

alexandra, charles’ sweetheart, called your name. 

lando’s grip tensed at your back. you could feel it. you glanced at him, then to alexandra. 

“come dance~!” she swayed, floreale spritz in her hand. she egged you forward with her hand, and you loosened yourself from lando’s side. 

you had no obligation to stay by him. it’s not like you were dating.

though many would disagree with that. 

you mumbled something incomprehensible to lando. he bent his head down towards your mouth, angling his ear to hear your voice. 

“will i see you on the dance floor tonight, mr. norris?” you teased, body warm from the cocktail you downed. his head turned, a signature smirk daunting his face. 

“want me to?” he said, bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear. you shivered, his breath hot and wet as it graced the curves of your cheeks. 

“only if his highness can make time,” you looked up at him through your weary, drunken eyes. something shifted, then, as you stared up at his green eyes. it was dark in the club, but not as dark as his stare. it intimidated you, but not nearly as much as it intrigued you. 

“always make time for you baby,” he said, tone playful and airy but it was more than that for you. baby. he was just drunk, wasn’t he? he didn’t know what he was talking about. didn’t know he was talking to you. don’t let it get to your head. “just tell me when. think charles is dying to dance.”

you looked over your shoulder to see charles being teased by sweet alexandra as she shook her head, pointing at you. this was a girls dance, that told you. 

before you turned, your hand cupped lando’s neck. he grumbled; you felt it through your palm. it was a nonverbal okay. you spun, threading yourself out of lando’s grasp. he let his hand linger for as long as he could before you slipped away, the imprint of his hand leaving you bare and cold. 

it was quickly replaced by the rambunctious action on the dance floor. lit up with multicolored tiles, alexandra grabbed your hand and raised them above your heads, swaying to the heat of the music. 

she was a natural beauty. no wonder charles fell in love with her. 

you mimicked her dance moves to the best of your ability, hands sliding down your waist, through your scalp and over your head. 

alexandra laughed and sashayed, giddy with fun and life. you did the same, unable to withstand her pulsing vibrato. you twirled her around you, she did the same. heads turned at your giggles, a few grunts of laughs had you looking over your shoulder. 

the men of the club began to swarm. but in the moment, you didn’t care. let them gawk if they so wish. you felt untouchable. 

your body slid parallel to alexandra, hips gyrating with an orbit of its own cosmic makeup. she grabbed onto your waist pulling you close when you rocked from side to side. your hands slid up your neck, down your chest— exposed from the evening gown you chose for the evening festivities. 

the swarm intensified. one man attempted to twirl in front of you and alexandra, reaching to touch your forearm, but that’s where the line was drawn. 

a body pushed itself between you and the man, alexandra standing up straight behind you. you recognized him instantly— signature smell bringing you an insatiable comfort that soothed your soul. 

lando stood before you, face close to yours. he didn’t look pissed off…just…cocky?

before alexandra peeled away, you tilted your head back to her shoulder. she whispered, “needy, needy, needy…”

charles whisked her away for a dance. you didn’t get to respond. there wasn’t much for you to say though, watching how happy alexandra became when charles wrapped his arms around her. you felt sour. what was this feeling? 

“you didn’t ask me,” he said into your ear, bringing your attention back to him. little to your knowledge he watched as you glanced between the happy ferrari couple, your face scrunching and hand coming to cover your lips. 

you gave him a quizzical look. 

“to dance!” he laughed, big and goofy. but there was an edge to his tone. was he peeved? did he think that you forgot about him?

“wanted you to come get me.” you slurred, lifting your arms to throw them over his muscled shoulders. when you were met with a hard surface. your eyes bulged at just how big he’s gotten this year alone. it made you want to touch him more, explore his body behind the polo mclaren shirt. 

he raised his brows at you. “yeah?”

you pursed your lips together, letting your eyes flutter. “wanted you to hunt me down, little lando.”

his hands fell to your hips, fingertips functioning your skin. his demeanor shifted. your words igniting such a vicious flame inside his heart that burned for you and you alone. you were practically fucking edging him with your words. he wished it was the other way around. how insatiable your screams could be, the little noises you’d make. 

you warmed even more when his head dove into your neck, lips parting so you could feel his tongue. “‘ve already got you.”

“do you?” you challenge. lando loves a good challenge. 

he tucked you against his body, saying nothing more. 

“dance with me.” it wasn’t a question. but a statement. 

rolling your eyes, annoyed that he didn’t answer you, you pivoted on your heel. your back against his abdomen. you’d surely regret this on the morrow, but that was a problem for then. now, you only felt sturdy as you leaned your weight into lando. he supported you with ease. 

dancing with him was always the easy part. he knew how to move his body, sway his hips, and lure any girl into the trap of his toned and tanned arms. but it was never you up until now. you’d always dance with the other drivers, girls, friends, but never him. it was something far too intimate for you, but you weren’t sure how lando thought about it. 

but your friends noticed. 

rebecca snuck up behind alexandra, carlos at her arm. 

“look at him,” she gestured to lando who was entirely smitten with your let-loose expression. his hands were tight around your hips, legs spread to cage you against him. a fortress came with the name lando norris, and you were his queen. 

“entirely in love.” rebecca concluded, and alexandra agreed with a nod. 

“you should talk to her.” charles suggested, clearly feeling the pain his friend was going through, yearning at a distance. 

“and say what, char?” alexandra asked her partner. “do you love him like he loves you?”

“is that a bad idea?” charles retorted and was met with silence between the two girls. 

“we’ll figure something out.”

against your bodice, you felt the hard imprint of his dick blistering against his jeans. but it didn’t frighten you, not like his touches used to. your tour of the grand prix’s continued your closeness amongst one another, so…

your hips continued to sway, egged on by how lando ran his arms up your waist. it felt good–his hands, the tension woven into them. he felt good. 

you turned around to face him, letting your hands wrap around his neck. he looked euphoric beneath the dim lighting, rbg hues collectively making him look like he was glowing. he was, in truth, because of you. always because of you. 

the two of you were making eye contact now. not just any, but you thought it was the most intense of your life. his eyes rimmed with red, exhaustion you thought, and you suddenly felt guilty for keeping him out for so long. it’s not like you weren’t tired yourself. 

you raised your head to his ears. “we should go.”

he narrowed his eyes, looking disappointed that the festivities were ending so soon. “you want to?”

your head nodded. one hand came down to brush against his hand, taking it between yours. “tired.” 

the alcohol had taken its course through you. head pounding with a soft thump, you clasped your hand with lando’s. he returned the same force, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. he didn’t hesitate when you said you were tired. that was that for him. he had no other reason to stay.

“just wanna say bye to them,” you said, making your way over to rebecca and alexandra. they turned to you when you had lando in tow, entirely at your whims. 

“we’re meeting tomorrow?” you confirmed. both girls nodded, a shared glance between them making you feel uneasy. alexandra told you to come to ferrari’s paddock. you’d nod your head before they both raised their brows at each other again, sheepish smiles flashing in your direction. 

“what?” you prodded. they smiled at you again. 

“nothing. we just can’t wait for tomorrow.” rebecca soothed your concerns, though it didn’t prevail as much as you hoped. 

“that was weird.” lando said into your ear when you were close to the exit. 

“right?” you were glad he noticed. he always noticed these things. too observant for his own good. 

before you stepped foot out of the club, you turned back when you felt a thump. like a body had fallen to the ground. you stopped in your tracks. 

the man that grabbed your arm laid face flat on the ground. lando looked down at you, looking smug. though he didn’t hit him.

“must’ve tripped.” he shrugged. 

“should watch where he’s going.” you said, knowing that he didn’t just trip.

“guess so.”

────────────

saturday afternoon you were standing beside rebecca and alexandra when qualifying started. you wore a casually chic outfit. pants, a shirt, matching accessories. the stylist lando hired was getting to know you better. she understood what patterns you liked, your sense of aesthetic. it felt like a homecoming. 

“so,” alexandra crossed her legs as all three of you sat on the couch. “what happened with lando last night?”

you were taken back. “what do you mean?”

they exchanged a look. 

“you left together!” rebecca held up her hands as if pointing out the obvious. she was, really. 

“so…?” 

“so…! he went back to your room?” alexandra pleaded in wanting to know details. details of an extravagant night that didn’t happen. 

“we share a hotel room,” they gasped. your hands thrown up in defense. “not like that! he gets two bedrooms for us.” 

the girls settled, not looking entirely pleased. 

“besides,” you sighed. “we’re friends. he doesn’t see me like that.”

so confident

alexandra and rebecca burst out in a laugh. “are you serious?” alexandra wondered. 

you bristled, brow raised, wondering what she meant. “yes…?”

rebecca sighed your name, “have you seen the way he looks at you–?”

“or how he follows you around like a puppy.”

“how he pays for everything for you.”

“oh! how he scares any man off who tries to talk to you.”

your mind went numb. is this true? you thought lando was like that with everyone– kind, considerate, conscious. but as you sat there considering their words, just wondering how much truth was attached to them. 

“are…are you sure?” you hesitated about finding the answer. what would that mean for you? 

“absolutely.”

“one hundred percent.” they said at the same time. so this is what they wanted to talk about.

shit. maybe you were blind. it had gotten tempestuous over the course of these last few months. his growing attentiveness, his softness, his eager eyes whenever you’d make him coffee in the morning. no one makes it as good as you, he’d say. 

would it be so bad that you…weren’t upset with it? you loved being friends with lando. he was always there to listen to you, support you. he cherished your time together. but what if there was a slim chance that you were wrong? that you were in over your head? 

the last thing you wanted was to be embarrassed. 

“what do i do?”

the ferrari girlfriends exchanged looks. 

────────────

lando qualified in fifth for the miami grand prix. you thought he did absolutely wonderful. it was a close quali, he was pushing his car to its limits, but it wasn’t enough in the final stretch. a sigh left you as you were watching the tv, lily at your side. 

oscar placed just below lando at sixth. “i don’t get it,” you said.

lily looked at you, confused. 

“they should be faster. mathematically, i mean.”

lily was an engineering graduate. the question you brought forth had her perking up. you could see the cogs turning in her head. 

“the physical body of the car offsets it.” she tapped her thumb against her elbow, arms crossed. she raised a hand to bite at her thumb, but you stopped her. 

“you’re right. i don’t know–” you just had a weird feeling about this race. about lando. what rebecca and alexandra said…”lily.”

“yeah?”

“do…” you took a light breath in, suddenly intimidated by the answer you could receive. “do you think lando is in love with me?

a beat of silence.

“without a doubt.”

the mclaren plated with number four rolled into the garage. lando jumped out, taking off the neck guard, then his helmet. his hair had gotten longer this month. curls were starting to frame over his forehead. his stubble was more prominent. he was tanner. had his jawline always been that sharp?

he patted his engineer on the back but was looking for something. his eyes were darting all around the room, concern beginning to encompass his face. until he found you and lily, you, in the corner with her. you looked absolutely beautiful today. you had been worried about your outfit, wondering if the colors were too contrasting, or if they washed you out. 

lando didn’t think there was any color that could wash out the beauty of your skin. you were too bright for that, always glowing.

when you saw him, you beamed. but it was different this time. the way he looks at you. how is he looking at me?

he took a few steps forward before you met him half way. your fingers found the zipper to his jumper, the action was new for you and lando. he welcomed it, looking down at you with a smile. 

“you did amazing.” you breathed, undoing the zipper. though you couldn’t reach his eyes with your own. your hand shook against the zipper. he noticed, face falling with a slight frown. 

“are you alright?” 

“perfect,” you answered a bit too quickly. you still haven’t looked at him. you went to turn away, but he grabbed your elbow with a light grip. 

“hey, look at me.” he pleaded, voice entirely too soft and gentle for your state right now. the way he follows you around like a puppy. but why did you blush? why did you fiddle with your fingers, bite your lip? 

you looked up into those lovely pools of green. they shimmered so elegantly. your breath caught in your throat. 

“what happened? did–”

“do you want dinner tonight?” you blurted, suddenly feeling stupid and small. you kept shrinking with each passing second that he didn’t answer. little did you know, he felt like the earth was flipped on his head. was he dreaming? did you ask to have dinner with him? surely you just meant with all of your friends…

“we always have dinner,” he said with a light laugh. you felt shivers creep up your arms. Goosebumps.

“me. just you and me.”

“oh.” oh? that’s all that lando could say? yes. that was it. his brain was short circuiting, unsure of what you were inferring. was there a deeper meaning to this? was he thinking too hard? you’ve gotten dinner just the two of you before. but not in a long time. 

he was absolutely speechless as he looked at you, heart racing in his chest. It was just about to pop out when you opened your mouth to retract your statement and apologize. 

“what’s the dress code?” he bit his lip to hold back his childlike grin. 

“fancy.” you snipped back, feeling entirely too giddy that he seemed to come alive once again. you thought he would reject the idea, a part of you hoped that he did– silly, right? but you were terrified of confrontation. confrontation that rebecca and alexandra could be right. 

“fancy?” he said, taking a step closer to you.

“did i stutter?” your tone was playful as you raised your brows. his tongue got caught on his teeth as he pursed his lips. 

“wanted to make sure i get to see you in a dress.” the comment slipped from his lips easily, suavely. you blushed again. he noticed, surely. it was a rare occurrence that you blushed, even rarer for him to be the reason. what was this feeling in his chest? pride? pride that he could be the one to make you bashful. he felt like a king, wanting to conquer the skirts of your heart. 

“maybe i’ll let you pick it out.” 

lando’s face couldn’t light up any further. what did he do to award such treatment? such…such…god, he was entirely enamored with you. there was not a moment that went by that he didn’t wish you were his. he wanted this to be the norm. whatever it was. was it a date? was he supposed to hold your hand, kiss you? god, god, god, if he got to kiss you…

“deal.”

you were back in the hotel in an instant. the clock read 6pm, and you told lando no later than 7:30. both of you were in the kitchen filling up your bottles of water, cracking jokes between each other. when you were refreshed and relaxed, you spoke. 

“still picking my dress?” you lead him to the door to your room, opening it for him. he followed behind you without a second thought. his eyes weary, glossy. like he was about to cry or something. 

you stood at the doorway to the room. it was a chaotic mess of clothes, ruined sheets, open bottles of water. if lando noticed the state, he didn’t say anything. thank god. 

but he did

lando was keen on noticing every detail of how you lived. your habits. it was the only way he could figure out how your mind worked– the spectacular thing that it was. he turned his head over his shoulder to you, gesturing towards the closet. you nodded. 

he opened the door to the closet, dresses hanging by the dozens. damn, the stylist really put her money’s worth, didn’t she? rather his money, but if it meant for you to look jaw-droppingly stunning, who was he to complain? 

the british driver ran his fingers through the numerous dresses before him. different combinations of cotton, silk, satin. they all felt different at his fingertips, yet you would always be sweet to him. but something else caught his attention–

a lace bodice piece, lingerie, that hung low from a hanger. he waited a beat. another. he pulled it with both his hands, showing you the hanger with a curious, raised brow. 

you flushed.

never in your life did you run as fast as you just had. you tried to snatch the hanger from him, but he held it high above your head. he was laughing. 

“lando!” you screeched, trying to climb up his body to reach it. it only incited a more intense laugh from him. he hummed.

“what’s this for, then? hmm?” 

“i–” you stuttered, not really being able to know what to say. “she gave it to me!” the stylist.

his laugh quieted. “did she?”

“yes! if, you know, i dunno–” you rubbed your arms together anxiously. “if i ever met a guy. or something. it was stupid!”

you tried to get it back from him. he didn’t relent. you stomped your foot. 

“lan, please…” you whispered, looking up at him with his unreadable stare. lando was always the type to know how he felt through his eyes, but now…you didn’t know what you were looking at. 

“did you?”

“did i what?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“meet a guy?” 

you looked away, embarrassed. “no. not like i was trying, though.”

he relaxed, noticeably. 

keeping all these guys away from you…

“it was just a fun idea. now will you pick something? else i’ll change my mind.” you threaten him. he hung the lingerie piece back up, surrendering instantly. 

you headed to the on-suite bathroom, starting to get ready for your night out. though his tone echoed in your mind– “did you?” – he sounded…deflated. bested, by some indomitable force. you had a growing epiphany that the ferrari girls were right, and you were just too damn scared to admit that such a beautiful man could be interested in you of all people. 

lando knocked on the door frame, watching as you finished up your look. you glanced at him through the mirror, then turning to see the dress he held. it was a long, black dress with lace flowers embroidered into it. it even had sleeves, lace ones, that could keep you warm with the miami breeze. it got rather chilly when the sun went down. 

his choice was rather impressive. dare you say that you liked it. you grabbed the fabric piece from him, taking it off the hanger and leaving it on the counter. it was beautiful– must’ve cost a fucking fortune– breathtaking, though. 

did you even deserve to wear something so elegant? 

“gimme a sec,”  you said, shooing him out of the bathroom before you changed. the dress slipped on with ease, much to your shock. but its downside–the zipper. you tried for about three seconds to get it up in the back, but you gave up.

you opened the door. 

“lan?” you called for him, voice whimpering for his attention. he shifted from your bed, scrolling on his phone. he looked up immediately, eyes widening at the site before him. you were absolutely breathtaking. his hands twitched, desperate to touch you. 

and you weren’t opposed, you thought, given your insolence towards any patience you had for the zipper. ‘test the waters,’ is what alexandra had said to you when you asked her for advice. ‘see how he reacts.’ rebecca followed up. 

testing the waters

that’s what you were doing

you turned your back to him, shimmying out of the bathroom. “zip me?”

“yeah. yeah of course.” he launched to his feet. the dress was so low down the curve of your back. he wanted to trace your spine with his fingers. he was gentle with his touch, warm to the skin. you absentmindedly leaned into him, back arching. 

he zipped the piece with ease, letting his fingers trace the back of your neck. you shivered, goosebumps crawling up your shoulders. he felt them, quickly glancing at the side of your face to gauge your reaction. was he going crazy? your body was so receptive to him. it was addictive. 

you pulled away. his hands felt empty, your back felt cold. 

“thanks,” you smiled bashfully, unable to look him in the eyes. so fucking cute, he thought. “go get dressed, will you? i’m getting hungry.” 

lando bolted from the room, and you managed a short laugh to yourself. while you were alone, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. you still felt entirely undeserving of such a gown. 

you slipped on your shining black heels and had to adjust to their feeling. you were never good at walking in them, but this tour was a playground for you to learn how. you wanted to learn. you felt badass walking around like you had pointy claws. 

in your hands was a matching leather clutch, simple and handheld. you waited patiently for lando, though it took him barely no time at all to look so put together. 

you heard the clink of his loafers before he made himself known. turning around, you got a good look at the man you’ve gotten to know over these past few months. 

it was chilling the way your body electrified. heat pooled in your lower belly, tingling with lust. he was dressed in a black dress shirt, few buttons undone revealing his chains, with a black jacket and taupe pants. his loafers were black with a silver buckle at the center of each shoe. 

he was fiddling with the cufflinks at his jacket when he noticed you gawking at the shape of his abdomen, to his exposed neck. he didn’t want to say a word, afraid that it’d break your moment of admiration. that you would never look at him in such a…virtuous manner. 

but he could never control his tongue. 

“my eyes are up here, darling.” you snapped your head up, blushing. you crossed your legs over each other, leaning against the kitchen isle. 

darling

you were caught red handed. there’s no point in pretending. your blood burned hot in your veins, the petname coming as second nature from his lips. you wanted to hear it again. 

“didn’t know you cleaned up so well.” you pushed off of the isle with ease, waiting for him to join your side. “used to all the sweat and pajamas.” 

he tsked at you, sheepish at your witty remarks. he hoped that no matter what it would always be like this; you and him, full of banter and fun. 

“and you look…agreeable.” his smile was bright, mischievous. you pushed his arm away as he came to rest his hand on your lower back. “kidding!” 

he lowered his voice and connected your eyes with his. “you’re breathtaking.”

and for the first time, you believed him.

────────────

the restaurant he chose was more than you could imagine. with high ceilings, a valet, lights in the shape of mystical orbs strung together on the walls. the floors were made of marble, the tiling on the sidings were matte black. 

but lando didn’t give a fuck about the decorations. he was staring at you. you in your beautiful dress, carrying yourself so elegantly. you were born to fit into this life, whether or not you believe you deserve it. he would do anything to prove that you did. that you were worthy of every dime he spent. 

“right this way, madam.” the waiter ushered you, but you didn’t move until you held out your hand for lando to grab. you’ve never asked him to sober. 

he didn’t hesitate, never did, and latched onto your hand with a warming grip. you tugged him along through the restaurant while he kept getting distracted from you and how you walked so well in those high heeled shoes. he remembers a time when you couldn’t. and look at you now.

the waiter seated you at your two person table. lando pulled out the chair for you. you smiled appreciatively. 

“aren’t you the gentleman.” you acknowledged his kindness, his face brightening as he seated himself with ease. he pulled into the table, leaning over it. you did the same, eager to meet his face with a bashful smile and your hands rubbing together. 

lando looked nervous, but most of all happy. he is happy. to be sitting here with you, in your presence, and most of all, you wanted to be here with him. he didn’t miss how you leaned towards him, your legs crossing over one another as the point of one of your heels grazed his knee. 

“so tell me,” he picked up his water glass, taking a sip. you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed, the water running through him. you gulped. “why dinner?”

your hand touched the back of your neck. “‘m not allowed to want to spend time with you?”

“didn’t say that, did i?” he placed the glass down. “all this, i mean–” he gestured to your dress, his shirt, the restaurant. “you tryin’ to tell me something, darling?”

one of your fingers ran over your lip. darling. god, it sounded so good coming from him. it put you in such a state of heaven, feeling entirely weightless in his presence. you were staring at him speechless, before you heard a clatter of glass behind you. you were ripped from the safety of your trance. 

“maybe,” you muttered, looking away for him briefly before attempting to switch the topic. “anyways-”

“what was that?” he said languidly, the softness of his tone unrecognizable. his eyes were blown wide, taking in every subtle movement that you made. you felt like you were under a microscope being analyzed by his prerogative. you felt stripped bare– but that wasn’t such a bad thing, was it? no. no it wasn’t. the thought had you blushing. what weren’t you blushing about today?

“the race,” you continued on, disregarding his questioning. “are you nervous?”

he leaned back in his chair in defeat. fine, if she wanted to play it that way. he knew exactly what you said. but he wanted to hear it again. he will hear it again if it is the last thing he ever hears. you said “maybe” and didn’t brush him off with a scoff. his advances towards you had always been playful and light, but you never indulged him so…earnestly. he was caught off guard. in fact, he’s been caught off guard…a lot these past few days. something has shifted–

but what?

“am i supposed to be?” he wondered. you never really asked him those kinds of things. he always had your full reassurance. 

“no. it’ll be just like any other, won’t it?” you felt like you were talking out of your fucking ass. you, all of a sudden, didn’t know how to talk to your best friend. it was gibberish, dry, god, how the fuck did he put up with you beforehand? 

you began fidgeting with your fingers. his eyes latched on the movement. 

“are you nervous?”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to look at him. you didn’t know he leaned in again until you felt his knees bump with yours. you jumped, but sunk into his light touch. 

“i dunno– no? no, why would i be nervous?” you continued fidgeting. “it’s just…it’s all so dangerous, isn’t it? i’ve done the math before. at your speed if–”

“hey.” he cut you off, grabbing both your hands. “hey.” he breathed, looking at you with his widened, sparkling green eyes. your hands were sweaty against his, a byproduct of your anxiety, but he didn’t seem to care when he brought them to his lips, gracing you with a sweet kiss on the top of your palms. 

your breath hitched in your throat. 

“didn’t know that you worried about me so much.” he gave you a light laugh, his eyes crinkling with a smile. he bit his lip. 

“what? of course i do,” you looked at him in disbelief, your hands still held in his. “i mean– why wouldn’t i? we’re friends, aren’t we?”

‘aren’t we?’ was branded into lando’s heart. he swallowed, pulling back and letting your hands fall to the table. “‘course we are.”

“you are both such a beautiful couple.” your waiter approached. you bristled, glanced quickly to lando, and an idea bloomed in your head. test the waters, the girls said. “what can i get for you lovebirds?”

lando sat up straight to correct him, but you stopped him. “you are too kind,” polite smile was gracing as you ran your fingers over the menu. “what are the specials?”

lando’s jaw dropped. he shut it before the flies flew in, but he wouldn’t forget this. no amount of alcohol or fantasies could recreate that feeling. this feeling. you glanced at him while you were ordering, puckering your lips. 

god, he wanted to kiss you. Ruin you. make you his.

dinner went smoothly despite a perpetuous tension lingering over the pair of you. you’ve never fiddled so much before with anything; your dress, napkin, glass. but you were still there with him, and he always knew the perfect way to make you laugh. you wanted to kiss him that night, beneath the glimmer of the moon, but you couldn’t do it. you couldn’t muster the courage to break the barrier. 

but you would, in time.

on your way out of the restaurant you were keen on grabbing his hand first. you felt him tense and he covered his mouth with his free hand, surely hiding a cheeky smile. 

the cameras were flashing when you came down the steps. you’d be trending on every social media platform, especially with how bright your smile was, and how tightly you gripped his hand. 

────────────

race mornings were always chaotic. but you somehow managed to make it to the track at the end of the f2 race with lando at your side. In the mclaren hospitality room, you straightened his collar of the fireguard, taking a deep inhale of his subtle cologne and natural scent. you felt dizzy, struck by the desire to run your hands over his chest. 

your touch lingered longer than it normally did. he noticed. what didn’t he notice?

especially after your stunt last night. he didn’t get a wink of sleep. he was up all night staring at his phone, watching the pictures light up his feed. he wasn’t embarrassed, shocked, nor ashamed. the british driver was entirely elated. with your graceful composure, assuredness in holding him at your side. 

he scrolled through the comments, too, but there was not one negative thing he could find. spare a few comments that he had to bite his tongue on responding to, you were gaining an overwhelming amount of support from his fans.

your fans.

there were accounts made in your honor. outfit accounts, update accounts, people with your face as their profile picture. he scrolled through every one of them. he was maddeningly obsessed. 

but what changed? why were you acting this way? not that he was upset by this change…but your inability to tell him…tell him what was going on frightened him. he felt anxious. 

“what’s going on with you?” he brought his face closer to yours, lowering his voice so no one else could hear the both of you. 

“nothing. it’s nothing.” your tone was hastened, weary. 

“it doesn’t sound like–” 

“we’re ready for you, lando.” his engineer interrupted the two of you with a polite smile. 

the british driver sighed. 

you placed your hands on his chest. “i’m fine.” though it did little to soothe his woes. 

he looked at you weary eyed, brows turnt upward with concern. he didn’t believe you. 

“i just…” your hand trailed up his neck, thumb caressing his bottom lip. he stayed perfectly still beneath your fingertips. “really want you to win.” 

you placed a soft kiss on his opposite cheek. 

“you got this, lan.” 

he kissed your thumb that was on his lips and said nothing else before he jumped into the mclaren.

────────────

you were on absolute edge the entire race. it was an uphill battle. you’ve never been seen so anxious with your headset on, tapping your feet anxiously against the concrete. arms crossed over your chest, it was down to the last few laps. lando had been hard running in first.

first. lando was in first. 

you could feel this in your blood. he was born for this.  

and when he crossed that fucking finish line, you’ve never felt so much joy in your entire life. 

he yipped and punched his fist in the air, his screams were pure music to your ears. 

his engineers came to pat you on the back, gauging your all too excited reaction. lily was at your side, too, jumping and giving you a hug. 

lando jumped from his parked car, ripping off his helmet and neck guard. he was on top of the fucking world when he jumped atop the crowd of mclaren workers, them holding him up with ease and chanting his name. 

you stood beside lily, hand covering your mouth to stifle your sobs. you couldn’t be more proud of him than in this moment. 

he caught your eye from above the crowd, watching the tears fall down your face. when he jumped off his celebratory pile, he ran over to you. 

you threw your arms around his neck, launching yourself against him. he caught you, he always would, and held you tight. he would never let you go. never. your tears wet the base of his neck.

“lando…” you said into his race suit that smelled of burnt rubber and sweat. you didn’t care. this was your lando. 

he pulled back, looking at you with concern. it was a characteristic look for him these past few days. 

but you wanted that to go away. 

you wanted nothing but his happiness. his joy. his passions. to see him on top of the world. but you wanted to be right there with him, side by side. 

your lips were on his before he blinked. he was taken back, surprised, and face dripping in sweat. your hands gripped around his muscular neck, tugging him to you. you wanted more. you wanted this. this over anything. him over anything. 

he returned your kiss when he was done pinching himself. your lips were entirely too sweet. luckily he had a sweet tooth. 

his hand cupped the back of your head, tilting you towards him for a better, deeper angle. you moaned into him as he sucked on your bottom lip, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. you were floating, floating in the world of lando norris. you never wished to return to the ground. 

but you did. the cheers around you got louder. you realized you would too if this kept up.

the new grand prix winner wasn’t finished, though, when his free hand gripped your hip. you stifled a giggle by smiling into his mouth, catching your breath. “lan,” you chuckled. 

“don’t tell me this is a dream.” he had tears swelling in his eyes, lips plump from your kiss. “i might just have to–”

you cupped his cheek. 

“real.” you assured him. “i’m real. this–” you brought his gloved hand to your heart. “is real.”

he bit his lip, though it did little to conceal his smile. 

“drink some champagne for me.”

he kissed you once more. a telltale we aren’t done. 

and you sure as hell weren’t. 

────────────

“don’t understand why we’re celebrating out there,” lando gestured to the door as you were putting your heels on in a hurry. “when we could be here.” he pulled you to him, your back flushed against his chest. you leaned into him, sighing. 

“because your friends want to celebrate,” you finished putting on your shoes. “me included.”

lando’s hand tightened around your waist. “you’re not my friend.”

your brows upturned when you spun around to face him. your expression was sickeningly innocent. “‘m not?” your hands landed on his chest, turning your head to the side with fluttering lashes. 

“absolute minx,” lando seethed with a hearty laugh, leaning in to kiss you. your noses brushed together, his lips coming to graze yours. but you smiled and pulled away from him before he could taste your lipstick. 

he made a move to pull you back to him by your elbow, but you gave him a look. “we’re going to your celebrations, lan. don’t care what you have t’say.”

he groaned, his head falling forward to your shoulder. your hands raked through his hair, down the back of his neck. he practically purred like a fucking kitten under your fingertips. 

“and as far as i know,” you kissed his temple. “we’re still friends. haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend, did you?” your hands curled in his hair, pulling him to meet your eye. he bit his lip, blushing!

“you’re blushing, baby!” you cooed, reaching to squeeze one of his cheeks. 

“can’t blame me,” he muttered, head darting back into the crook of your neck and leaving soft kisses down to your collarbones. “the most beautiful woman has her hands all over me…what am i supposed to do with m’self?” he chuckled and you felt his teeth against your sensitive skin. you sucked in a breath with a smile. 

“ask her,” you lowered your voice, whispering into him. “i’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“would she?” his head perked up, flushed and warm from your neck.

“in every universe, lan.”  your humorous tone turned serious. he gulped, adam’s apple bobbing when he felt the weight of your words. “you know that gravity is the only force that can travel through any dimension? any time, any place, it will be found.”

he was listening to you intensely, voice cracking as he spoke. “i would find you.” 

your eyes widened at him. 

“through any black hole, space phenomena, wormhole,” his breath fanned your cheeks. “i’ll always find you.”

you leaned in to kiss him. he met you halfway, swallowing your mouth with his. you let him push you up against the counter, your hand gripping the ledge so you didn’t tumble over. you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped in without hesitating. he explored the corners of your mouth, the shapes of your teeth, your own tongue. 

your moan was deep from your chest when you felt his hand start to slip up your thigh. his pinky scathing the fabric of your thin underwear. you gasped when he ran trailed over your cunt, already wet and swollen under his touch.

"all for me, baby?" he chuckled into your neck, soothing your cunt of its tumultuous ache.

you nodded, but that wasn't enough.

"words. need words."

"fuck. yes, lan, all for you." you moaned when he flexed a finger inside of you, the sweet burn was tender to your growing coil in your belly. but things just can't go smoothly, can they?

you were brought back to earth when your phone began to ring. fuck. 

you tried pushing lando off of you, but he grumbled against your lips. you smiled, but detached from him. “lan,” he shook his head, refusing to let you go. “lan, it’s probably everyone wondering where you are.”

“don’t care.”

“you should.” 

“don’t.” his mind didn’t change, finger still exploring you before you shook him off.

you kissed the tip of his nose. “we won’t stay for long, okay? besides…”

there was a sheepish look on your face. “i have a boyfriend to show off.” 

lando didn’t need to be told twice to get you swept off your feet and into his car. 

────────────

the entire drive there his hand was on your thigh, so high that he traced the lining of your black laced underwear with his pinky. you gripped his wrist tightly, but said nothing the entire ride there. 

when you pulled up, a valet man opened the door for you. you stepped out and were met with ten times the amount of flashing cameras that you were used to. you got this. with a straight posture and elegant– as elegant as you could muster– composure, you waited for lando to meet at your side. 

you weren’t disappointed when you felt his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowds. shouts were sent your way, his way; “lando! lando! is this your girlfriend? are you dating? what’s her name?”

he made sure to answer only one question with your nod of approval before he climbed the steps to the nightclub. 

“lando! is this your girlfriend?”

“yes,” he said with his charming nature, turning back to look at you, starstruck by your beauty. you smiled back at him, hand caressing his chest. the cameras went wild at your natural pose with each other. 

inside the club was much better. with a restricted guest list of close friends and family, you were at ease. when you entered you were met with all three of your closest girlfriends. lily, rebecca, and alexandra. they squealed when they saw you, sprinting in your direction leaving their boyfriends in distress by their absence. 

“congratulations, lando!” lily said upon her arrival first, then glancing to you. “and an even more congratulations is in order? are you fucking kidding me!” she said with utter glee. you leaned further into lando’s side if that was possible. he relaxed at your touch, hand loose at your hip. 

“i knew it.” rebecca said with certainty. 

“she really did,” alexandra confirmed. 

you rolled your eyes at the pair of them. 

“i’ll get us drinks, baby.” lando whispered into your ear, his nose jutting against your hair. he gave you a kiss to your head and departed from your side, meeting up with the guys, too. 

“tell us everything!” alexandra jumped up and down. 

“there’s not much to tell.” you shrugged, hands thrown up in defense. “i just thought about what you said. you were right. i was so, so blind.” wasted time was a fear of yours.

“we’re proud of you anyways. have you seen all the paparazzi for you?” rebecca opened her phone, scrolling endlessly through her timeline. “i fucking hate you. you look perfect in every one of them.” 

“oh please,” you brushed her off. “have you looked in a mirror, becca?” 

it was a stellar night. you found yourself on the dance floor shortly after with your favorite drink in your hand, per lando’s stellar memory of your order. 

without another moment longer, your hips were moving over lando’s on the dance floor, his hands loose on your hips as he ran them up and down your body. you decided you weren’t going to have more than one drink tonight, preferring to remember every moment of this celebration.

the song was a bumping rap tune, easy to follow along with your suave moves. “suave,” you were just letting loose against your now boyfriend. the word was still foreign to you, but you felt increasingly giddy at the mention. 

lando, though? he was a changed man. not only did your kiss bring him ultimate luck before his race, he now has you at his side. he’ll do anything to keep you there. fuck, how did he get so lucky? he had a feeling something was going on, but never would he think it would be your lips on his after his race. he can still taste your tears.

you cried for him the entire time he was up on that podium, absolutely relishing in the national anthem played in his honor. and he could only keep his eyes on you. your glittering, magnificent eyes that sparkled beneath the miami sun. they sparkled for him, only him, on this marvelous day. 

and he would let everyone know that you shined for him. that you were his. while he may have won his first race, you were better than any trophy he could ever get. 

eventually, everyone raised their glasses for lando and cheer’s to his victory. you held your glass high, downing the entire thing. he did the same, only keeping to a few so he could see you as clear as day. he felt the same way…he never wanted to forget a moment with you. 

you faced him now, body still swaying to the music. with your chest brushing against his, you felt a growing heat over your neck. as the night went on, the sweatier lando became. the more his tanned skin glowed beneath the hue of the lights. the more his cologne pumped through your nose. it was impossible to not be intoxicated by him, drunk on his affection. 

with your hands gripping his neck, you looked up to him through your hooded eyes, a look that he wished he could take a fucking picture of. 

“what?” he said into your ear. 

you only shifted closer into him if that was possible. 

“need me, baby?” he chuckled low and wicked. you shifted on your feet, tightening your legs together. you almost did before lando stuck his leg out, having you tightened around him.

you nodded rapidly into his neck, clutching the fabric of his shirt. it was an appropriate time to leave, too, given that many have already bid their goodbyes. lando was only sticking around for you, after all. “please,” you whimpered into his ear, mouth wetting the skin beneath his chin. 

“fuck.” he cursed, maneuvering your body towards the exit with ease. his hands felt so good around you. you wanted them everywhere all the time. 

you bid your farewells to your friends with haste, feeling a slight guilt for leaving so…suddenly.

but lando didn’t. 

the drive back to the hotel took no time at all, lando blowing through every fucking stop sign and light that came in his direction. his hand was firm on your thigh this time, white knuckling the steering wheel. you stared at him, his side profile. he was too irresistible like this–needy, urgent– so you leaned over to kiss the side of his face, down his neck with sensual, puckering kisses.

he leaned his head back, giving you access to his thick neck. you had no idea how he kept focus on the road, but you had full faith in him to get back unscathed. 

“i know, baby,” he sighed, low and deep. “almost there.”

pulling into the valet, you opened the door yourself. lando threw the keys up in the air to the doorman and proceeded to rush you through the lobby. you couldn’t contain your giggles when he kept pressing the elevator button over and over. 

“that doesn’t make it any faster, you know.” you commented, your own foot tapping against the cool marble of the ground. 

“i’ll show you fast, baby, watch your mouth.” chills ran up your spine. your legs clenched together again and you couldn’t meet his eye. 

bastard. 

when the elevator opened, you shuffled inside and he had you against the wall before you could catch your breath. his lips attacked yours, moving down to your jawline, peppering your neck with slower, intense kisses. you moaned, biting your lip to conceal the sound the best you could. 

he moved to your chest, your collarbones being the first to be victim of his biting kiss. he would bruise the skin atop your breasts, marks for only him to gawk at. it looks like you won’t be getting any miami sun any time soon. or ever if his swirling tuck keeps suckling against your skin. 

“fuck, lan.” you whimpered, looking down at him below you, hands cupping his neck in place. he would happily be imprisoned by you like this. he would never go hungry. 

he groaned at your breathless response, adhering heavily to his actions as he didn’t miss an inch of your skin with his sloppy kisses. you pulled at the curly hair of his scalp that had his eyes rolling back into his head. you watched the delectable sight, your panties becoming increasingly damp as the seconds rolled by. 

the doors to your floor opened. lando didn’t move for a moment. you pulled his head back from his devouring of your skin. “you’re fucking me in your bed or not at all.” 

“you’re the death of me, darling.”

you were swept across the floors of your hotel, lando fumbling with the key to the room anxiously. you kissed up his neck in anticipation until the door clicked open and you were practically tossed inside. he slammed the door shut, throwing the “do not disturb” sign on the handle. not a soul would bust in on the two of you. 

you were ripping off your heels and throwing them across the floor before you were latched onto him again. but it didn’t last long until you wanted more. you weren’t going to fuck him in this kitchen, either. you were going to do it right, despite your hazy mind and actions. 

lando chased after you like a mad man. you squealed running through the hotel room on your tip toes until you burst open the door to his place. the bed sheets were ruffled, clothes on the floor, and it smelled like him. you bit back a moan at the sight, lando’s chest meet your back.

his lips were back on your neck, your shoulders. he tore through the fabric of your dress, undoing the zipper with methodical fingers. the gown fell to the floor, leaving your chest bare and your panties thin and otherworldly. 

you were ethereal. 

there wasn’t an ounce of shame inside of you when you spun around to face him. his hands were running up and down your bare skin, feeling how soft you were. a cuss fell verbosely from his lips, like honey. 

you backed away from him with an enticing look, swaying your hips before you fell backward on his bed, hands threading over your head. a palm came down to trace down your sternum, your lower belly, the hem of your dampened panties. 

lando watched you through his darkened eyes, almost black with desire. black holes. they sucked up the light around them, absorbing it without second thought. you wanted nothing more than to be absorbed by him. wholly. 

he stalked towards you like a hunter, back straight with his lip caught between his teeth. he wanted to ravage you right here– tear the underwear from your hips, fuck you into another dimension, but he would resist. all he wanted was to savor this moment, this vision, of you laying out before him, bare and vulnerable. all for him. you trusted him with your intimacy, your touches. he’d do nothing more to keep you like this. 

the british driver stood over you, your legs coming to squeeze together until his knee shoved its way through. your thighs dangled over the edge of the bed, burning with the scorching heat of your core. 

one of his fingers came down to run over your chest, your nipples, your abdomen. you squirmed at his teasing touch, feeling everything and absolutely nothing at once. you mewled deep within your throat, begging for more. 

he stopped at the band of your underwear, latching the same finger beneath it and drawing his hand back. the fabric peeled away with ease, your cunt glistening at his will. he noticed, of course, nostrils flaring with a tense angst of lust. no woman had looked as beautifully sinful as you have. you were a blessing and a curse– the most angelic devil he’s ever met. 

“beautiful,” he cooed, trailing two fingers over the crease of your thighs, over the lips of your pussy. you whined again, shifting your hips to get him to touch you where you needed him. badly. he tsked, at your impatience. 

it took him all of a second to launch atop of you, his turn to cage you in with his toned arms. you watched as his veins pulsed, blood running viciously hot through his body. it had you glancing down at the outline of his cock through his pants, the indent firm and mesmerizing. 

you salivated, a string of drool leaking from your mouth. he wiped it away with his thumb and a chuckle, looking at you from his elevated position above you. “soon, sweet girl.”

that was enough for you right now. his lips attached to your chest once more, spots already swollen and bruising with his previous attack. he moved to your breasts, cupping them in his palms, kneading the flesh. it felt heavenly to be beneath him like this– you never thought you could be so vulnerable with a man like this before. 

the british driver’s mouth moved to your opposing nipple, latching onto it with his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. you whined, mouth opening for a loud gasp at the curdling sensation. you felt that feeling in your lower belly, a white hot coil that was desperate to snap. 

you were so soft beneath his touch. he could mold you, bruise you for his own gawking at a later date. and you wanted him to. you were his and he was yours. nothing could change that now. 

he moved to the other breast, not daring to neglect any part of you. it was euphoric how delectable this was. you’ve never been touched so intimately. no one has cared this much about your pleasure. but to lando, it was everything. 

his gospel was on your pleasures. 

“lan, lan please,” you whimpered, squirming beneath him when he wasn’t between your thighs yet. “need you so bad.” 

“i know baby,” he said into the skin of your belly. you felt his smirk. he kept trailing down and down. “so pretty,” he sighed, coming face to face with your folds, swollen and beating for his touch. 

 you clenched around nothing, and the desperation has never been so poignant. 

and then his tongue was on you, spreading you wide. you gasped, so responsive to his touch, and grappled onto the curly strands of his hair. he was deliberate with his touches, fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs. his tongue drilled into you, curling upward that had you biting back your moans. despite your efforts, it was a failure. you were slack jawed and squirming beneath him. his grip tightened around your thighs in response, surely bruising the skin. 

he tongued every corner of your pussy, swiping over your clit once that had you jolting upward. he memorized the spot, stimulating you to the point where the coil began to itch to snap. 

there was no hope for you when he was getting impatient and added a finger to rub circles on your clit, his tongue continuing to thrust in and out of you. pleasure would build and build, rising to an ultimate bliss when he found that sparkler inside of you. 

at the angle he caressed with his tongue, you bucked your hips into him further. you felt him chuckle into you, his throat vibrating with such a cocky sound. he found a spot that made you fucking tick and you were entirely at his disposal. 

he abused the motion of his fingers, the assault of his tongue. you felt entirely undone by him, progressively getting tighter and tighter at his motions. “come on, baby…” he spoke into you. you couldn’t help the uncontrollable arch of your back. “you’ll be a good girl and come for me, won’t you?”

yes, yes! your mind shouted, fingers hanging onto his hair for dear life. you moaned, soaking further with his words of encouragement, eyes rolling back into your head. ‘course you needed him to talk you through it. how silly of lando with such an oversight. “so good, lan…”

“i’ve got you,” he uttered. “fuck baby, so pretty f’me. come on now,” and you needed nothing more than his sweet praise brushing past your ears to have the coil inside of you snap. 

you saw stars as you came on his tongue, sweet nectar filling his mouth with a gulp. he kissed every part of you, cleaning you with his tongue. you watched, weary eyed, amazed by how hot the action was. your pussy clenched. he felt it. glancing up at you from his position on his knees. 

“taste so good, sweet girl.” he cleaned up the excess from your plump folds with two fingers, bringing them towards your mouth. 

you opened your mouth on cue, his eyes widening with awe. you were fucking perfect. lips latching onto his plush fingers, you sucked them clean amply. you’ve never done such an act before, but it felt…natural. his dick was painfully hard in his pants, almost cumming at the sight of your lust filled eyes.

“my perfect girl…” 

you whined, sitting up on your elbows and clenching your hand to etch him closer. he listened on command, climbing to you. it was his shirt, pants, socks, shoes, everything that was on him that bothered you. 

fingers coming to yank at the hem of his shirt, he swiftly understood your nonverbal wishes. he tore his shirt over his head, throwing it to the corner of the room, and you fiddled with the belt of his jeans. your fingers worked fast and anxiously, throwing the damn belt across the room with a slap. he gripped your chin with a laugh as he loomed above you. 

“want you,” you demanded of him in your sweet, cracked voice. he wouldn’t make you beg this time, pulling his garments down with a swift motion. his cock sprung free and up towards the skin of his lower stomach. you flushed. precum was seeping from his tip, dripping onto your thighs. fuck, you whimpered under your breath. 

he didn’t settle for a grace period to settle from your orgasm. he wasn’t nearly finished with you. his hand came to cup the side of your face, your lips finding the skin of his palm. wet kisses covered the surface. he groaned. “you got me baby. relax for me, yeah?” 

you nodded eagerly, unable to speak as you wiggled your hips from side to side. he bent over and continued to kiss gingerly down your neck, his tip teasing your swollen cunt. you gasped into him, pulling him close to you. he grumbled, finding this angle inadequate. soon enough your legs were over his shoulders with one swift movement. 

lando dipped down for a kiss, his lips hot and feral against your own. soon enough, you felt him clamor inside of you. the stretch was invigorating, your entire body springing to life with his beating cock. “oh my god,” your head flew back into the sheets sinking inward as he felt too heavenly to be real.

“that’s it baby,” your cunt tightened around him with those sweet words. as he progressed further, you felt yourself fall further and further into pure bliss. you’d find no such place elsewhere, only in the comfort of his arms. you knew that to be certain. “taking me so well…”

you sucked in a breath, letting out a hoarse moan when he bottomed out inside of you, walls clenching entirely too tight and he thought he’d cum right then and there. but he withheld the best he could, promising to never cum before you did. he needed to see your face when you’d finish on his cock. 

“fuck…move, move lan, need you.” you whined, adjusting extremely well to his size. he didn’t even need to prod you to beg for him, you were already a willing candidate. he always knew you would. your sweet eyes, droopy and dolled up for him at the races. he’d imagined these scene over and over in his head, and never once did it disappoint when he’d fist his cock. now you were here, and your cunt was even more heavenly than he imagined. 

“anything, baby.” his pace was even and controlled, but you could see that he was tense. through your bedroom eyes, you could feel the tension through his cock. you appreciate the sentiment of taking it slow, but you knew how he was. 

he liked to be fast. 

“more,” you moaned, his head shooting up to look at you with surprise. you cupped his cheeks, flushed face begging him. “fuck me, lan. need you so fucking bad, please, please–”

he would burn the fucking world for you. you didn’t know it at that moment, but he had never been so in love with you than he has been before. he adhered to your wishes, losing the tension in his shoulders as he began a rough pace against your cunt. 

it was his only goal to make sure you felt him in every part of your body. he stretched every corner of your walls, squeezing him at every increasing thrust. he explored you fully and promised to know every inch of you. 

“taking me so well,” he grunted out, hips flexing in and out of you with an egregious pace. it was to your ultimate liking to get fucked so well by him. 

“lan…” you drawed out in a moan, lost in the stars of his throttling pace. “you’re so good. so fucking–” your own pleasure cut you off, squealing when he shifted only slightly and had your core clenching him tight. 

he let out a greedy snicker, knowing he found a spot that made you unbelievably tick. it was his to find, and his to use. you would know no better pleasure than what he awarded you. 

“oh fuck–!” you yelped as your release continued to build, the tip of the iceberg in reach. lando felt it, too, with his own stomach tightening and desperate to cum inside of you. you were a trigger for all his desires, and it would be sent off with a singular please that could leave your lips. the power you held over him and didn’t even know it…

“always gonna make you feel good, baby.” he promised you, dipping his abdomen over yours for a deeper, tighter angle. you whimpered, unable to speak. he would do it for you as he kissed over your cheeks, your jawline. 

his hand came to the column of your throat. your eyes flared with an undeniable attention and intrigue. you clenched around him, and he hadn’t even applied pressure. “always.” and you fucking believed him when his fingers swiped at the sides, applying the slightest pressure of his fingers to your airway. you fell lax against the sheets, trusting him with every part of your body. no one else would feel this way for him. no one except you. 

your eyes swelled with hot tears, breaking when he was firmer with his grasp, even with his hard cock beaming in and out of you. 

he lavished at the sight. he never knew he was so hungry up until now, starving for your affection, your pleasures. how perfect you were could never be summarized in words alone. 

“i love you,” you sputtered out, breathless and flushed hot. lando’s pace didn’t falter, but his grip around your neck loosened. 

“say it again,” he demanded, face pushing up into the crevice of your neck.

“love you so much, lando,” it was a promise you made to him. to yourself. he swore against your neck, his breath hot and humid against your skin. 

“come for me. come on, my love.” his words were only encouraging you towards and ultimate release, your tears hot against your cheeks. “i’ve got you, i’ve got you baby. so good for me, aren’t you?”

“yes, yes!” you whimpered, coil of lust for the british driver snapping a second time, harder, bringing an entire galaxy into your vision. you traveled through time and with lando, you found yourself grounded together in every universe. this was home. 

your cunt tightened, causing his pace to get sloppy, his own release parallel to yours. you milked him dry, panting and chests heaving together. 

he fell on top of you, his full weight comforting against your wet skin. he didn’t pull out yet, too exhausted to find the effort. 

“did you mean it?” i love you.

“yes.”

lando became shy as he found himself brushing your nose with his. “i love you, too. have for a long time.” 

a long time

“i will love you in every life time,” you said, earning you the brightest smile that the driver could muster. a lifetime. 

“a lifetime…” he repeated, in a daze. “love you so much…” he said your name into your cheek, giving you a plump kiss. “infinite lifetimes would never be enough.” 

you peppered his face with kisses. this was your gravity. the force that kept you grounded throughout time. if you ever got lost in the cosmic reaches, you would be able to find him. find home. find the beacon of light that he provided. 

you were safe here, and so was he. and does gravity know no bounds between objects. you would be attached to one another for the rest of your living days, and even further throughout the cosmos. and that was enough for you, for now. 

────────────

weeps;;

i am also open for requests <3

[sansaorgana]

— THE GIFT

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You were born to be Feyd-Rautha's wife. You arrive to Giedi Prime to get adjusted to the new environment before your wedding. Your betrothed is trying to court you properly... but he only knows The Harkonnen ways of doing so.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — After a whole month of writing Thrown To The Wolves, I felt weird writing something with Feyd with a different Reader and a different plot. 🙈 But at the same time I was excited to explore a new scenario. 😄

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, death

WORD COUNT — 3,700

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE GIFT

Giedi Prime was an unfriendly place – cold and colourless, nearly lifeless as well. The people you were seeing reminded you of machines more than humans. You were terrified as you realised you’d spent the rest of your life there. The Harkonnens were even worse. Rude, harsh, not very talkative. Your future husband had looked you up and down on your first day in a way that turned your blood cold.

You missed home. You missed your family. But you knew it was impossible to ever go back. You could run away – if you somehow managed to bribe the servants to help you – but it was impossible to hide from your destiny. You had been born to be Feyd-Rautha’s wife, and most importantly, to give birth to his child.

You were a daughter of an important Lord, therefore you weren’t opposed to the idea of an arranged marriage. You knew nothing else was waiting for you in this world and no one would ever let you marry a person of your choice. But why was Feyd-Rautha your betrothed? Out of all the people in the galaxy, why did you have to be promised to a Harkonnen?

Ever since you had been a little girl, your friends had been teasing you about it. Repeating the dreadful gossip about Giedi Prime and your betrothed who had become a famous and dangerous gladiator in the meantime. And now you were finding out that the gossip was not true – reality was even worse than anything you had heard and expected of this place and of this man.

You were supposed to spend three months on Giedi Prime before your wedding, away from your home and family, to adjust to the environment and the customs. Then the wedding would take its place and you’d become the na-baroness of The Harkonnens.

On your first morning you were woken up with breakfast brought to your bed by the servants.

“Why can’t I eat with my husband’s family in the dining room?” You asked them while sitting up and resting on your pillows.

The pale and bald women looked at each other significantly. Everyone looked the same here, you felt like a freak.

“Baron Harkonnen and his nephews do not eat their meals together, unless it is a special occasion, a banquet of some sort,” one of them explained. “Everyone eats their meals in their own private chambers.”

“I see,” you nodded and sighed at the sight of the food. It was as colourless as everything around. You missed the bowls of fruit and yoghurts you had been getting on your homeplanet.

After swallowing the last bit of your breakfast, you took a shower and let your new servants dress you up. The Harkonnens had requested for you to leave all your clothes and personal belongings at home. They wanted you to be as detached from your old self as possible. You were gifted a whole wardrobe of new outfits instead. All black.

You wondered if they’d ask you to shave your head, too. You dreaded that. Your hair was like an armour you could hide under. Your servants had no idea how to manage it so they left it loose. You brushed it with your fingers since there was no brush.

When you saw yourself in the mirror you thought that on your homeplanet you’d be called a feral woman. In a black, long dress, hair unkempt and dark bags under your exhausted and empty eyes that lacked any sort of emotion.

You were supposed to have classes about The Harkonnen culture. You had been studying it since you were a little girl but they did not trust your progress and they wanted to test you in a more practical sense. Your teacher was an old man with a contemptuous smirk, a close advisor of the Baron and most likely his spy.

He had been asking you questions for the past hour to which you answered perfectly well. It was becoming difficult for him to hide his surprised facial expression.

“You’ve been trained well, my Lady,” he admitted.

“This is all that has been expected of me,” you explained with a nod, your voice was hollow and emotionless as you realised how true your words had been. Your whole personality was limited to be the future Harkonnen Baroness ever since you had been a little girl. You couldn’t possibly tell what you would be like under different circumstances. You had never been given a chance to find out.

“Very well then,” he hummed to himself. “I’d like you to roam freely around the fortress and try not to get lost. Tomorrow during our class you will ask me questions about the things and places that made you curious,” he informed you and bowed down before leaving the room.

You looked around, expecting someone to fetch you but no one was coming. He had to actually mean that you were allowed to roam freely around the fortress. Carefully, you left the room and chose to turn right. You had arrived from the left side of the corridor so you were naturally more curious about the right side and exploring a brand new territory.

You were too scared to try to push any doors, though. You didn’t want to walk in on things that would possibly make someone beheading you for seeing. The occasional guards passing you by were looking at you suspiciously but they were not saying anything. After a while you stopped seeing them at all and realised you were in a dark maze of endless corridors that you had no idea how to get out of.

Trying to go back, you only ended up getting lost even further as you were going deeper and deeper into the maze. Your heart started to pound in your chest and your hands began to shake as they turned cold. The corridor was cold in general – much colder than the rest of the fortress. And it was terrifyingly empty.

You decided to stay in one place and wait. Someone had to eventually look for you, right? You hoped for it to be true. Trying to hug your own self for warmth and comfort, you rested your back on the cold, grey wall, taking deep breaths in. 

Suddenly, a loud and animalistic cry emerged from behind one of the black doors. You were startled by it and your body began to tremble even more. You wanted to get away as far as possible from that door but when you were about to turn around and run, they opened and your heart squeezed in your chest.

To your surprise, it was your betrothed leaving the mysterious room. He was wearing gladiator attire and holding a blade in his hand with blood still dripping. His eyes widened at the sight of you and you froze.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in his deep and raspy voice.

“I… I got lost, I’m sorry. I’ve been told to roam freely around the fortress and explore on my own but I got lost…” You explained as you shivered.

Feyd-Rautha approached you slowly like predators approach their prey. You took a step back and felt the wall behind you. You were trapped.

“Lost, you’re saying?” He smirked as he hovered over you. Your heart was pounding so fast in your chest that he just had to hear it. He rested one of his hands on the wall above your head and leaned in even closer. “You’ve accidentally gone underground where I train on my slaves,” he smiled almost playfully, showing off his black stained teeth.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to..” You gasped but he shushed you with a soft hiss.

“Did I say it was forbidden?” He asked and you shook your head. “Come, I’ll show you,” Feyd straightened himself and reached out his hand towards you as if he was a proper gentleman.

Everything inside you was screaming to run away and to not follow him anywhere. But you were aware that he would catch you in a second and your attempt would only most likely enrage him. And very soon you would belong to him anyway. You would be his property whether you wanted it or not.

You held his hand and he froze at the feeling of your ice cold and shivering fingers.

“You are cold,” he pointed out. “And scared.”

“I am not scared,” you lied. You had been taught that The Harkonnens hated fear and cowardice.

“And a liar,” Feyd-Rautha sneered and led you inside the mysterious room he had previously left.

It was big and dark like every other room in that fortress. There was a dead body of a servant in gladiator gear laying on the floor in the puddle of his own blood. The walls were covered in all sorts of weapons.

“This is where I train,” Feyd announced proudly. He had to think it would impress you but it only made you sick, especially the sight of the dead man on the floor. You had never seen death in such a brutal and ugly way before. But now you were sure it was not the last time.

Feyd was visibly waiting for your response as he let go of your hand and took a step back to tilt his head and watch your expressions carefully. You realised it was a test of how much you were able to handle as his wife.

You wondered what would happen if you failed all the tests. Would they just send you back home or would they get rid of you? Were they even able to do that? You didn’t want to find out.

“It is impressive, my Lord na-baron,” you admitted with a shaky nod of your head and he winced at your words which made you furrow your brows.

“Don’t address me like a servant, pet,” he clicked his tongue and you nodded, slightly uncomfortable at the way he had called you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “How should I address you then?”

“However you like,” Feyd shrugged his arms and approached you once again, raising his bloody blade slightly as you flinched. It brought a smile to his full lips. Looking deep into your eyes, he licked the blade clean. You clenched your jaw and tried to keep a poker face on but a knot formed in your stomach at the disgusting act.

You hated to admit that he was attractive for a Harkonnen. There was a magnetic energy about him that made you attracted to him like a moth was driven to a flame. Even his harsh and unpleasant voice was leaving you wanting more.

Feyd brushed your hair with the tip of his freshly cleaned blade, carefully, making sure not to cut any strand.

“I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he looked even more intensely into your eyes.

“That would be inappropriate,” you tried to explain. “It’s not considered elegant.”

“I said, I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he repeated like he couldn’t understand why you were trying to argue. He was a spoiled na-baron and completely not used to people disobeying him. So, you just nodded this time.

“Then I will,” you promised. “If I could only get a hairbrush, though. Or a comb. So they don’t tangle,” you pleaded and he squinted his eyes at you as the tip of his blade moved to under your chin. You swallowed thickly at that gesture.

“A hairbrush or a comb,” he repeated your words. “That can be arranged,” he added and you smiled nervously at him. “What are you scared of?”

“Of the blade under my chin perhaps?” You raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckled, however his hand remained still.

“Weren’t you sent here to be my wife?” Feyd’s smile dropped in an instant. He was serious again and you took a deep breath in, tugging on the folds of your dress to hide how sweaty your hands had become.

“Yes, I was,” you nodded.

“And what do you think of that?”

“I don’t think. I have been preparing for that since I was a child,” you answered.

“I want to be a good husband,” his sudden confession made your eyes widen. In one swift move he took the blade away from you and replaced it with his hand as he held your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes. “My uncle says that a wife should not be an enemy. He wants me to court you properly,” he explained.

“Is your uncle experienced in marriage?” You asked, curiously. You had been taught that Baron Harkonnen had never been married.

Feyd laughed at your question as his grip on your chin tightened. He moved his face even closer to yours, your nose nearly brushed his and it made you hold your breath.

“Can you think of a woman who would not become his enemy after being forced to marry him?” He asked you and you dared to chuckle at that.

“So, I assume, I do not have to worry about you becoming like him one day?” You bit on your lower lip, realising that he indeed did not want to hurt you.

Perhaps that whole uncomfortable and threatening situation was his idea of intimacy. You wouldn’t be surprised.

“My uncle is not my role model,” he only answered and took a step back, removing his hand from your chin. “I don’t have idols.”

“What do you worship then?” You furrowed your brows.

“Blood and honour,” he answered with all seriousness. “Allow me to give you something, my pet. A gift for my bride to be,” he proposed and you hesitantly agreed, not wanting to hurt his feelings by refusing.

You expected him to approach one of the walls and hand you some of the weapons. But, to your surprise, he kneeled down next to the dead body laying on the floor and he opened its chest with the sharp tip of his blade. You gagged quietly and covered your mouth with your hand, trying to look away as the metallic smell of blood hit your nostrils, leaving you nauseous.

The sound of his heavy footsteps made you look in his direction again, not wanting to offend him in any way. He was walking towards you proudly with a real human heart in his hands, blood dripping off of it on the floor, leaving a trace. With all your force you stopped yourself from squealing at the sight. No amount of training and studying The Harkonnen culture had prepared you for this.

Feyd-Rautha reached his hands out as he offered you his foul gift. He was staring at you intensely, expecting praise of some sort or admiration. However, you had none. You let the wet organ slip into your hands as you gagged once again at the sensation and a shiver went down your body. Your reaction caused Feyd to tilt his head and squint his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“You don’t like it,” he pointed out after a short while of silence and you got scared of upsetting him.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just…” you started, trying to nervously explain yourself.

“You don’t like it,” he repeated, both annoyed and disappointed.

“I appreciate the gesture,” you tried to assure him. “I will keep it,” you promised.

“Why don’t you like it?” He asked once again, ignoring all your words. You sighed.

“It’s just not something I’m used to. In my homeworld, we don’t give each other human hearts,” you explained softly.

“What do you give each other?” His question was genuine and curious.

“Haven’t you studied my customs like I have been studying yours?” You asked but the answer was obvious.

“My uncle says it is not important for me to know your culture because you are here to become one of us,” Feyd explained. “The only thing I have been studying was the blade,” he added. “So, what kind of gifts do your people give?”

“Flowers,” you answered. “For example.”

“There are no flowers on Giedi Prime,” Feyd pointed out. “No seed blooms in our soil.”

“I understand,” you nodded, nervously. “I am grateful for your gift, Feyd-Rautha. I appreciate your courtship,” you assured him but your voice and hands were shaking as your face was visibly disgusted.

Someone knocked upon the doors and Feyd barked at them to come in. You turned around and saw two guards sighing out of relief at the sight of you.

“There you are, my Lady!” One of them approached you. “We’ve been searching everywhere. Let us escort you back to your chambers,” he bowed his head.

You nodded at him, relieved as well at the sight of them. You wanted nothing else than to go back to the familiar part of the fortress and to finally leave this awkward and uncomfortable situation with your betrothed.

Still holding the heart carefully in your hands, you walked out without even glancing at Feyd-Rautha. The guards took you to your chambers where the worried servants had been waiting. They gasped at the sight of your gift.

“What is it, my Lady?” One of the girls asked you.

“It’s a gift from Feyd-Rautha,” you explained as they all widened their eyes. “I have no idea what to do with it,” you admitted.

“Feyd Rautha gave it to you, my Lady?” The servant swallowed thickly and you nodded. “Do you know what it means, my Lady?”

“No,” you shook your head and handed the organ to another girl. “I desperately need to wash my hands and change my dress,” you said and disappeared into the bathroom where you spent fifteen minutes getting rid of the blood.

You took the stained dress off and threw it on the floor before walking out back to your chamber. The girls were already preparing the heart as they put it in a jar full of some odd liquid.

“It will dry in there, my Lady,” one of them explained. “Na-baron must be really enamoured with you, my Lady, or perhaps he is trying to show his best side to you.”

“Enamoured?” You snorted at her. “It’s gruesome.”

“It’s the most romantic thing a Harkonnen man can give to a woman, my Lady,” the other woman added and you gasped.

“I haven’t been taught that…” You whispered, feeling extremely stupid for the way you had treated Feyd-Rautha before. You had to anger him dearly and his rage was not something you wanted to deal with. “What is the equivalent of such a gift for a man? What can I give him in return?” You asked the servants and they looked at each other’s faces, surprised.

“There is no equivalent, my Lady,” one of them answered. “Harkonnen women do not court. Only men do.”

On the next day, when you were leaving your chambers to go to your class, you spotted the doors nearby opening and your betrothed walking out of them. Your room was in the same area as his so it was no surprise but you didn’t expect to see him at the same time in the morning. At the sight of you, he looked down and walked past you without a word, which made you feel bad for him and for the way you had treated him. But it also made you anxious because his uncle has been right about marriage. You didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to be your enemy.

Giedi Prime was far from perfect and your betrothed was an odd, psychotic creature. You couldn’t change your destiny, though, so you had to embrace it to make it bearable.

“Feyd, wait,” you rushed after him and he froze when you grabbed the sleeve of his robe. He turned around and looked at you coldly.

“I am in a hurry,” he drawled.

“So am I. But I wanted to apologise. I have been studying the Harkonnen culture for years but I have never been told of the meaning of such a gift,” you explained, feeling your cheeks getting warm. “Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to reject you.”

“The heart was of a low quality,” he admitted as his face softened slightly. “Next time I will give you the heart of a real warrior, a real enemy. Not some slave,” he added. “My uncle has already reprimanded me for that.”

You broke a smile at him. It was adorable in a way how this scary and dangerous man was following his uncle’s guide on courtship, trying to be on his best behaviour around you. It was making you feel powerful in a way.

“I would like to return the favour but my servants have informed me there is no such tradition,” you confessed. “What can I do for you to forgive me?”

Feyd-Rautha hesitated for a moment as he looked away, thinking intensely about something. Then he laid his eyes on you again and leaned in to join your lips together. You were startled at first, your heart pounded in your chest. Raised to become his wife, you had never kissed anybody before and saved yourself for him only, however it felt as if his soft lips were truly made for yours. You put your hand on his chest and opened your mouth to invite his tongue in. He devoured you, greedily wanting to explore your mouth and feast on your taste. His hands pulled you closer by your hips and you put your free hand behind his head. Seeing him for the first time in real life two days ago, you had been slightly uncomfortable at the sight of him. But now you did not feel any of that.

Even if you hadn’t been prepared to become his wife, you’d still want him. You had been born to be his.

Feyd’s hands moved up and cupped your face before breaking the kiss and moving away gently. You took a deep breath in as he stared into your eyes and caressed your loose hair.

“You’re forgiven, my pet,” he told you. “By the way, I’ve ordered a hair brush for you.”

MASTERLIST

[catherinnn]

This kinda inspired by one of your enemies to lovers stories where eddie says “you wouldn’t be able to handle me” but reader instead says “oh yeah i couldn’t handle the two-centimeter-pussy-defeater bc id because i would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch.”

Sorry i have been holding that one in for quite some time 😤

Beg for it

enemies to lovers - one bed trope - eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT +18, piv, oral ( f & m), choking, degradation, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), porn with plot, fluffy at the end.

a/n: thank you for requesting babe, hope you love it!

5.7k words

“Game night at my place, the whole group will be there” Steve announces after greeting you. You went to visit him and Robin since you were already near the place. Also, maybe you could find a movie to watch tonight.

“Ugh, really? They all said yes already?” you ask.

“If you’re expecting me to say that Munson hasn’t, then I have bad news” he confirms.

“Fuck”

“You’re not even trying to be friends at this point” he complains.

“It’s impossible with him being so mean all the time” you tried to defend yourself but Robin was quick to refute your statement.

“You sure are mean to him as well, don’t act so innocent”

“Well, he started it! I didn’t even know him and he started with the jokes and asshole comments” you weren’t lying.

You were new in town, and new at the summer job your dad had found for you. He wanted you to already have some experience at working so you could make a better curriculum later. There was were you met Nancy and instantly became good friends. So much so that she had introduced you to her friend group she has had for years already. Steve, Nance, Jonathan, Robin and Eddie. The former four had been sweethearts to you since you first met them, easily becoming good friends as well. The problem was with the latter. The night Nancy had introduced you to everyone, he started being a little distant and cold towards you. You tried not to feel offended since he could just be shy or introverted, but then he started throwing snide comments and sarcastic mocking your way. You were not going to sit there and take that, so you equally threw cutting remarks at him.

That’s how the current war with him started. And that’s why your friends keep insisting with this forced proximity, so we could all be a happy family.

But it was useless, you and Eddie do agree on that.

The game night arrived that Friday. You were at the Harrington household with several board games awaiting on the table. Battleship, Clue, Guess Who, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it.

“We wanted to make different groups and play all of these, then see which team is the best” Robin explains. “Steve and me will be team one” she says as she writes that in the whiteboard. They really went all out, since we could all be pretty competitive.

“Group two!” Jonathan exclaims quickly grabbing Nancy’s hand.

“Wait… no, definitely not” You start complaining after realizing that would mean you’re stuck with Eddie.

 “No way! I’m not teaming up with her, she’ll make us lose at everything” he complains as well.

“I will? I think the actual loser here it’s you”

“Oh, am I now-?” The metal-head starts responding when Steve steps in, cutting him off.

“Okay! Stop yelling, we’re not even playing yet! The teams have been chosen, try and be faster next time”

“We’ll start with Guess Who” Robin announces.

As the game progressed, the bickering continued.

"Does your person have brown hair?" Eddie asks Nancy and Jonathan, who nod.

You reach over to flip down the characters with blond or red hair "See, this is why we should’ve picked someone with a hat, it's less obvious"

Eddie rolled his eyes "Oh, please. Like your guess was any better. We’re losing here!” Eddie complains.

"Only if you keep making terrible guesses" you shoot back.

"Does your person have a hat?" you ask the other team.

"No"

"Still think the hat was a good idea?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at you.

"It was strategic" you huff, flipping down the characters with hats.

After playing most of the board games you had, you were tied with the second group, Steve and Robin had already lost.

“Last but not least, to decide the winner of this evening, I present… battleship” Robin announces once more.

"You sure you can keep up with this game? It requires more than just a pretty face" Eddie asks you.

"Don’t worry, I have enough brains to make up for your lack of them" you respond.

“Quit it, start playing” Steve orders.

"Let's just get this over with" you roll your eyes.

They set up the Battleship boards, each team carefully arranging their ships. Eddie and you hunched over the board, whispering fiercely.

"Put the battleship here" he insist, pointing to the top left corner.

"No, it’s too obvious. Let’s hide it in the middle"

"Fine, but when they hit it right away don’t blame me" he groans.

As the game progressed, your bickering intensified.

"B6" Jonathan called out.

You glance at the board and softly nod your head "Hit"

Eddie leans closer, his voice a teasing whisper, "I told you the corner was better"

"Just focus"

When it was your turn, Eddie called out "G4"

Nancy checks their board, "Miss"

You smirk "Looks like your guess wasn’t so great either"

Eddie rolls his eyes "Just wait"

A few rounds later, it was your turn again.

"E5" Eddie calls out.

"Miss" Nancy announces.

"I told you they wouldn’t put it there" you huff.

"Like you’ve done any better"

"How about C3?" you roll your eyes.

"Fine, C3" Eddie sighs.

"Hit" Jonathan says between his teeth.

"See? I told you" you smirk.

"Don’t get cocky, princess"

The tension built as the game neared its end, each team with only one ship left.

"Last shot, let's go with G3" Eddie says

You nod.

"You sunk our battleship" Jonathan confirms after a long sigh.

“YES!”

“COME ONN” both you and Eddie shout in excitement and before even thinking about it you hug tightly.

Robin and Steve watch the scene with wide eyes and smirks on their faces.

And the second your bodies touch each other you realize what you’re actually doing. The hug only lasts few seconds before you both back away awkwardly.

“See? You actually do make a pretty good team” Robin comments.

“Only because I took the last shot” Eddie says.

“Oh please, if it were up to you we’d still be guessing corners” you reply.

"And if it were up to you, we'd be stuck in the middle forever”

Your friends roll their eyes as the bickering continued. And as you act indifferent, you try not think about how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, or how soft his hair had felt touching your skin.

His frizzy and chaotic hair. But so curly and soft.

--

Couple of weeks after that night had passed, you hung out with the guys almost every weekend. You favorite nights were the ones Eddie was busy and couldn’t make it. Like tonight.

“Pass the salt, please” Nancy asks Robin. You all went out to have dinner together. Not all actually, Jonathan was too busy as well, him you did miss.

“It’s like we’re having a girl’s night!” you say excitedly and both girls laugh as well.

“No, you’re not about to count me in as a girl” He complains.

“Oh please, you have better hair than me!” Robin comments and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m just teasing, jeez! Someone has their panties in a twist!” you joke.

“Are you on your period or something?” Nancy joins in sarcastically.

“Alright, not even funny” Steve interrupts. “Let's focus. I think we should keep planning the trip, even though we’re not all here tonight”

“Don’t even mention it. I miss Jonathan so much, he’s been so busy lately. I think he really needs a break” Nancy complains and Robin agrees with her.

“I know, it’s really noticeable when Eddie’s not here either”

“Oh yeah, he’s the one I miss. His irritating voice and loud comments. His annoying essence it’s what’s missing here!” you joke but they don’t find it funny.

“We’ve been through this, you’re gonna have to learn to like each other”

“Sure sure, so… the trip?” you change the topic acting foolish.

“Yeah, I liked the hiking option. We always go to the lake every summer, we should change it up” Nancy votes. You’ve never went to any lake with them since this is the first year you’re joining them. But they had told some stories about this hidden lake they usually go to in summer.

“I think so too, plus we should do something different since we have a new integrant” Steve comments smiling at you. Robin and you also agree to go with that option.

The guys make sure of telling the rest everything you have agreed on that night. You’ve settled on where to go hiking and the cabin that would be waiting for you at night.

A few weeks later you're all set to go.

The trip to get there was...

Steve and Jonathan took turns driving. "You must be a really shitty driver if no one here trusts you behind the wheel" you notice and tell Eddie.

"I'm not a bad driver, princess. Maybe we could go for a drive sometime and you could judge for yourself! We'll call it a date" Eddie teases you the way he knows will shut you up, it always worked. As soon as he started flirting with you, it was like you got shy all of the sudden. Replying with some nonsense that would make Eddie laugh harder because he knew he had won.

"I'd rather get eaten by a shark" you respond ignoring the nervousness that ran through your body.

"Alright, we still have a few hours ahead of us, and I'm not gonna make them with you two bickering the whole way there. So calm down" Steve —or actually, mom Steve— told you off.

Once you got to the cabin, you parked the car, settled everything down, ate something and got ready for today's hiking exercise.

Eddie was never a big fan of sports, so he knew that after an hour or so of hiking —no matter how slow they were walking or how much water he was drinking— he would just start to stay a little behind. Not a lot, but definitely the last on the row.

Also, he started to get bored. Eddie was chatting with Jonathan, but he started to take pictures of every little plant or flower he saw, and the higher you got, the more pictures of the view he wanted to take.

So Eddie started to walk in silence, taking notice of other little things, like the fact that you and Steve look pretty close and pretty giggly with each other since you started hiking. But not only that, obviously, it's not like he's jealous or anything. For him to be jealous he would have to like you in the first place, and there was no way Eddie wants you.

You're the obvious person to like; everyone in Hawkins is already smitten with you. Every guy has a crush on you because you're undeniably beautiful. He knew from the first moment he saw you that you'd never go for a guy like him. So, to keep himself from showing any sign that he wanted you, he did the opposite —he started to hate you.

So he is definitely not jealous. He was only noticing that like he noticed the colourful rocks that he walked by, or the clouds in the sky, or the way those shorts hug your body so nicely.

But he keeps hearing your laughter every ten seconds. Was Steve really being that funny, or you were acting all giggly for him? Did you like Steve? It certainly seems like you do.

You, however, were having so much fun. In the middle of a funny story Steve was telling you about some guy who tried to flirt with Robin at work and the look on her face not knowing how to tell him she didn’t like him —or well, any men for that matter.

The forest path was rugged, but you welcomed the challenge at first, feeling the cool morning air on your skin. However, after a while, your legs began to protest, your breath came in shorter gasps. It was hard to keep up with Steve. Swimmer and football player Steve. So you had to slow down a little, now walking alongside Eddie.

“What’s the matter, princess? Can’t keep up?” he teases with a mocking tone.

“You literally got behind sooner than me” you answer, shaking your head. “If anyone’s slow here, it’s you”

“But it looks like we're both walking together now, so who's really winning?” Eddie chuckles, unfazed by your sharp reply as his eyes twinkle with amusement.

You decide to ignore him. How foolish of you to think that he would accept that silence.

“So what’s the deal between you and Steve? You looked pretty cozy back there. You’re not very subtle, you know”

“There’s no deal with Steve, we were just talking” you roll your eyes, irritation flaring up.

"Right, just talking" he says, his tone dripping with scepticism. "You’re so obvious, it's almost painful to watch"

“Why don’t you stop jumping to conclusions and mind your own business” 

“Ohh, is the princess mad at me now? I’m so scared!” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re impossible” you say almost to yourself.

You kept walking for a few more hours, taking occasional breaks to catch your breath and sip some water. The trail seemed endless, but the beauty of the forest made it worth the effort.

As you trudged along, you noticed the sky darkening. Grey clouds, rolling in with alarming speed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves more aggressively.

A man in uniform hurrying down the trail called you out. "Hey, you guys need to find shelter! A big storm is coming in fast. There's no way you'll make it back down in time"

Panic start to appear in all of your eyes.

“Wait? Seriously?” Nancy asks.

“Yes! There’s a motel that’s a few minutes away, to your left” the guy informs you. “I don’t know how much room they have left, cause I’ve been sending some people there already. But you should go now”

Finally after quickening your pace, you spot the outline of a motel nestled among the trees. You hurry towards it. As you approach, you see the motel was old but resistant.

You reach the door and push it open, stumbling inside just as the storm unleashed its full fury. Inside, it was dim and musty, but at least it was dry.

“Hello, uh, we need room for six, please” Nancy is the first one to get to the register and talk to the old woman who was reading a newspaper as if she hadn’t heard you coming in.

“$70 the night” she answers without even looking up at you.

“Uhh… okay, we’ll take it” Nancy says and as you all reach for you wallets, the woman gives you three keys.

“There’s only three rooms left, two with queen beds and one with two separate single beds” she speaks again, as slowly as she can apparently.

“SEPARATE BED” Robin shouts fast.

“ME TOO” Steve is quickly to join her on calling dibs for that room. Not wanting to share a bed.

“Wait! No!” you complain. “Why would you get it just cause you screamed?”

“We called dibs, sorry sweetie” Robin explains.

“But that’s not fair, we should have discussed it!” Eddie joins in.

“Too late” Steve says handing the money to the woman and taking the key of their room.

“Come on guys, maybe they have a couch” Jonathan tries to make you feel better as he also pays and picks a key to their room.

“Are you actually making us share a bed?!” you ask them offended.

“Maybe it’ll help you become friends!” Robin tells you.

After paying and grabbing that stupid key, you all go to your rooms. As you walk in you notice that, in fact, there is no couch.

“Fuck” Eddie complains once again. “I’ll take the floor, let’s just find some blankets that I can sleep on”

And you turn that room upside down trying to find some. But the only blanket in the room is the –only– one on the bed.

“There’s nothing here!” you sit on the bed admitting defeat. “We’re both gonna have to sleep on the bed. I’m gonna freeze without a blanket and you can’t sleep on the bare floor, you’d freeze too”

“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could’ve just said so” Eddie jokes.

“Not now, Munson! Really not in the mood!”

After each getting ready for bed, you start building a wall of pillows in the middle. Separating his part of the bed from yours.

“I bet you wouldn’t make Steve have a wall of pillows” he mumbles, but you’re able to hear him nonetheless.

“Did you not listen when I said not now?!”

��See, that’s the problem with you. You think you can just walk in here acting like you own the fucking place. Newsflash, princess, not everyone is going to fall at your feet following your little orders!” Eddie gets mad for real this time, but so are you.

“I’m so sorry for trying to make this less uncomfortable! Actually, if you want I’ll even cuddle you while we sleep!”

“Shut up” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“No really, we should even make out before sleeping while we’re at it! Maybe that’ll prove to you that I don’t fucking like Steve”

“Yeah, you wish” Eddie comments.

“Actually, I think you wish. Giving that you’re always trying to flirt with me when we argue and giving how jealous you seem to be about Steve” you notice.

“I’m not fucking jealous. And you’re the one suggesting to fucking make out!”

“See, I think you do want to. You’re just too much of a pussy to even admit it” you whisper close to his face.

“Oh my God, princess!” Eddie starts laughing arrogantly. “You wouldn’t even be able to handle me”

“Oh yeah, you’re right! I could not handle your two centimetres because I would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch” you respond at his face.

But he doesn’t say anything back. He just looks at you. His jaw clenching, eyes darkening, breath heaving.

Before you can react, he closes the distance in one swift, aggressive movement. Gripping your arms tightly, he kissed you fiercely and angrily, his lips bruising against yours, as if trying to channel all the pent-up emotions into that kiss.

To say that you're shocked would be an understatement. But you did kiss him back. How could you not? With all the ardor and sentiment that he was putting into that kiss?

That fucking kiss.

After he felt your lips moving along with his in a dance, he let all the anger go. The kiss became passionate and intense instead of angry. Like you were finally letting go. Stopped overthinking and finally giving in.

You didn't need to talk. You didn't want to. Instead, you put one hand on his haw and the other on his hair, feeling it in between your fingers, bringing him even closer.

He sighs, holding a grunt as he feels you play with his hair. His hands move lower to your hips, feeling the upper part of your body in the process.

A fight for dominance is held up between you two. He bites your lip harshly, and you let out a little gasp that allows him to win. He's playing dirty. You're not surprised.

He starts to push you down slowly, so you're lying on the bed with him on top of you.

Your hands travel lower as well as you feel his back. You wonder if he has any tattoos there as well.

He dares to leave your lips alone as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and then your neck. He kisses and bites and licks all over your neck. You can bet that he is leaving marks as purple as a grape.

It turns you both on even more.

Eddie feels like he's flying. He's even touching the clouds. Marking you all up is only an image that haunts him in his fantasies. Like when he can't sleep, or is in the shower, or after fighting with you all evening and you're looking so beautiful and you're being such a brat. That's when he imagines leaving you all bruised out. But he's actually doing it right now, and he's going feral.

You start to feel like you're too dressed. His hands go under your shirt, and he starts to pull it up. You pull your arms up as well so he can take it off. His kisses keep traveling lower on your body. Your chest, your shoulders, the top of your breasts. He stops there. Making out with one of your nipples over the lace of your bra while pinching the other. You start moaning, your hips move searching friction on your core, and he lowers his hips so you can start dry humping him.

You feel his smirk against your sensitive skin as well as his hard on against your centre. Mocking your desperation. You're not surprised.

He moves up, meeting face to face once again. "So desperate for me, aren't you princess?" he whispers so closely to you face you can feel his lips moving and his evil smile too.

He watches you breath hard and your legs trying to close searching for that friction in between once more.

"Ask me nicely and I'll take care of you" he proposes and you roll your eyes.

You can't. You won't.

"Beg for it, princess" he tries again. "Let me hear you"

You shake your head. You're playing difficult, but Eddie likes a challenge.

"No? You're not gonna beg for me? Alright princess, you know what I'm gonna do?" he pauses to think. "I'm gonna make you cum so fast on my tongue you'll be embarrassed, and then you'll know how much of a desperate slut you can be for me"

You want to laugh and tell him off, but you are so intrigued by his confidence at the same time. You settle for a defiant look thrown at him, he catches it and smirks again. Something tells you you'll be seeing that smirk quite a lot tonight.

He unhooks your bra and throws it somewhere in the room, he squeezes your tits and caresses your nipples making a mental note to keep playing with them later. His hands travel down to your pants which are the next item being thrown away inside the room.

He takes a second to admire the view of you only on those white panties and he feels his cock jump. He proceeds to take your underwear off too, but this item is put inside his back pocket.

He puts your legs over his shoulders and lowers to be closer to your pussy. He bites his lip admiring how fucking pretty and perfect it looks. He wastes no more time and dives in.

He licks it and kisses it and sucks on it drunk on your taste. He fucking makes out with your clit and has you meowing and arching back like a damn cat.

His hands grab your thighs so hard he's probably leaving marks there too. He sighs and hums and laughs against your pussy hearing your pretty moans.

He looks up at you as you look down at him and you both feel like you could just cum at the sight alone. Your cheeks blushed, eyes watery, hair a mess, lips swollen and little moans are still coming out of them. He looks up at you while still sucking on your clit so fucking good. His eyes are covered by his bangs so you reach to move them to the side. His puppy eyes look straight at you, his hair is also a mess, and his hands are gripping you with so much force his skin as well as yours becomes whiter. And his rings feel cold and addictive against you.

You try to fight your orgasm but looking at him makes it impossible. It hits all throughout your body so good that you cry out his name as you pull on his hair.

As you catch your breath, he sits up and washes all your wetness off his face with the back of his hand, all that with a big smirk on so proud of himself.

"Still doubting me?"

You grunt, annoyed, and bring him closer. You pull his shirt over his head and take a second to admire his bare chest and arms covered in tattoos. You unbutton and unzip his pants. He's just watching you act so desperate for him to undress, enjoying every second of it like the cocky motherfucker he can be.

"Need help?" he whispers on your ear, and you nod with a pout. He stands up and takes his pants of slowly.

"These too?" he asks, signalling his boxers. You nod as you feel even hotter paying attention to the big tent he has on them.

He puts them down too, standing up proudly as you look at his big cock. "Half inch you said?" he teases you, and you look up at him as if telling him to shut the fuck up.

You sit up facing his dick. You grab it gently as you keep looking at it. How is it so... pretty? How the fuck does Eddie manages to be pretty everywhere. Even what you thought could not be pretty. He manages to make it look beautiful.

A mischievous thought crosses your mind. And you start leaving some kisses on the tip. Even a lick here and there.

He gasps unexpectedly. You put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Eddie moans louder this time, and hands stop your movements.

"As much as I enjoy this, princess, and I really fucking am" he lets you know. "I want to cum once I'm inside of your perfect little pussy, can I?"

You take him out of your mouth with a 'pop' at the end and look at him defiantly once again. "Beg for it" you challenge him feeling proud of yourself.

He laughs. "Are you seriously telling me to beg for it while you're still practically on your knees for me?"

You won't let him win this one, so you lay back again resting on your elbows. "Beg for it"

He takes a big breath in ogling over all of your body on display for him and only him. He'll let you win this one because his dick is throbbing at the sight before him.

His hands travel up your legs and your hips to your waist. "Please, princess" he says once his face is closer to yours.

"Please, let me fuck you so good" he starts humping his dick against your pussy which makes you both gasp.

"Please, please, please" he kisses your cheek to sugar-coat you.

"Eddieee" you move your pelvis up and down against him. "Do it, put it in"

And he wastes no time to do so. Pushing his tip inside and you both gasp. He bites his lip and thrusts to enter you completely.

"Oh, fuck" your head is thrown back and you lay back down. He feels so big and so fucking good in you.

"Mhh, fuck princess" he lowers his body to be chest to chest with you. "You feel so good baby, so tight around me"

You have to bite your tongue to stop you from moaning his name, you can't keep inflating his ego.

"Don't get all quiet now. You're always talking and the one time I wanna hear you..." he teases you.

"Earn it" you manage to get out. It's ironic how your lips are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting on them to stop you from moaning as hard as you want to, but you still tell him to fuck you better.

Eddie knows what you're doing, but he likes playing with you too. So he accepts the challenge.

He gets up on his knees against the bed and takes your legs to pull you closer to him. You instantly wrap them around his hips. He wraps a hand around your throat and he looks like he's about to say something, but instead, he enters you again. A moan escapes from your mouth instantly, and you see his big smirk back.

He starts a hard and fast pace with his thrusts as you hear his sighs against your ear. You can't help the whines and moans that escape you now. Your hands go to his back scratching him, and pulling at his hair, but it only makes him moan harder.

He lowers his head to your breasts once again and keeps kissing them as he fucks you. You arch back again, because you can feel him everywhere. And he feels so so good.

He feels you clench around his dick and he thinks he could just cum right now. So he starts playing with your clit with his fingers.

"Eddiee... 'm so closee" you whine pulling him somehow even closer.

"Yeah? You are?" you nod desperately. "Beg for it" he whispers and smirks right after saying it.

You roll your eyes but it doesn't take much to convince you this time.

"Please, Eddie," he was about to tell you that you can do better, but beat him to it. "Please baby, you feel so good inside of me, so big. Eddie, please"

Eddie has to stop himself from cuming -which he almost does. "Cum for me, baby"

And you do. Your orgasm hits even harder than the first one. You gasp and whine without even thinking about it.

Few seconds after that, Eddie can't take it anymore. He feels you clench even harder while you cum and it becomes too much. So he lets go too while moaning your name against your skin.

You take a few seconds to catch your breaths when you feel Eddie pull out —and after admiring how his cum drips out of your pussy— he gets up, puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom, only to come back with a wet towel to clean you up. To say he surprised you again was an understatement. Who would have thought he would be so careful?

After you go to the bathroom as well —with wobbly legs Eddie smirks about— and change into some comfy clothes, you both lay down. No wall pillow this time. And are quick to fall asleep after all the exercise you did today.

The next morning wasn’t so sweet. Loud knocking on your bedroom’s door accompanied a loud Robin telling you to get up already.  

Waking up all curled up with him was bound to happen. But if someone would have told you yesterday morning that today you would be waking up with Eddie Munson spooning you, you would have laughed at their face.

But here you are, and to be honest, it had been a while since you slept so peacefully.

You feel him groaning against the skin of your shoulder, holding you tighter.

You slowly opened your eyes to accustom to the light.

“Did you end up killing each other last night?! Answer me!” Robin shouts again from the other side of the door.

“Certainly feels like it” Eddie murmurs and laughs at his own joke.

“We’re awake! Calm down!” you let her know.

“We have to leave so then we can breakfast, so hurry up!” she lets you know.

You get up and start tiding up. Eddie is slower, he sits on the bed barely opening one eye to look at you and smiles. “Good morning, princess”

You look at him and a little smirk escapes from your lips. “Hey” you greet him shyly.

You both start changing to get down and tidy everything down. After you both brush your teeth, you go to pick up your backpack but he stops you to pull you in close to him.

“Good morning” he says again with his face close to yours while he pulls a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then he proceeds to kiss you, sweetly this time. Which warms your heart. You kiss him back playing with his hair once again.

“Hi, Munson” you say sweetly against his lips.

“You look beautiful in the morning” he admits but before you can even react, the knocking on your door is back.

“Okay! Okay! We’re coming!” Eddie stops them. “Jesus”

After getting down, you were waiting for them to explain where you would be having breakfast but as soon as they see you they start looking at you funny.

“What?” Eddie asks being as confused as you but they all start laughing.

“What is going on?” you ask again.

“Are we just gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Jonathan asks now.

“Yeah, were you gonna act like you still hate each other today?” Steve teases.

And you understand all the laughter. You and Eddie look at each other surprised and apparently this is also very funny because they start laughing again.

“Oh fuuuck” Jonathan starts mocking the way Eddie sounded last night also acting like moaning your name.

“Oh Eddie, so close!” Steve joins him acting like you.

Your face is as red as a tomato right now and you feel like you could just die, it would be better than taking whatever this is. You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder after he just rolls his eyes fighting another smirk.

He laughs at you, put stills hugs you.

“You wanted us to like each other…” He defends you two.

“Yeah, apparently you took that very literal” Robin teases after catching her breath.

[sylusxyou]

My Space | LaDS Sylus x Reader Fic

Summary: Sylus is accustomed to a lavish lifestyle. When he comes over to your apartment for the first time you are plagued with feelings of insecurity. He comforts you and shows you that you have nothing to be insecure about. (I hate summaries).

Pairing: SylusxReader (Non-mc? MC? Could be either)

Content: Mostly fluff, a bit suggestive, mentions of arousal, Sylus really enjoys spending his money on you.

Word Count: 2.9K

Author’s Note: This is the first thing I have written in soooooo long. Like years. So if it’s total shit, I apologize. If you read this, I hope you somewhat enjoy it. The more I write the better it will get. I just need to get stuff out of my head, start sharing, and not overthink it. Enjoy or don’t, just don’t tell me if you don’t :) 

You couldn’t help but pace around the living room of your apartment. Every spot had been cleaned and checked twice over but there was no calming down the antsy feeling in your stomach. Anxious thoughts filled your mind, ‘What if I missed something? Is my decor too plain? He’s used to luxury; my space is so small compared to his. I hope he’s not uncomfortable.” Sylus was on his way to your apartment for the first time. Until this point, all of your time with him had been spent either out in the city or in Sylus’ extravagant mansion. As your relationship slowly progressed into what it is now, ambiguously intimate and occasionally romantic, he had made multiple requests to come over to your apartment. At first you took it as unserious flirting but after the fourth mention of it, you realized he was being sincere. You had put it off as long as you could. It was hard not to feel a bit self-conscious about how much less you had. Even though you did well for yourself, Sylus’ wealth was untouchable and he constantly used it to spoil you. Not being able to do anything like that for him upset you sometimes. Deep down you knew Sylus didn’t care about that but that knowledge was really deep down and you didn’t currently have the will to dig that far. 

Three loud knocks sounded at your door and your heart began to race. Whether it was more from your nervousness of Sylus seeing your place for the first time or the excitement of seeing him, you weren’t sure. You quickly made your way to the door and looked through the peephole. There he was, tall, broad, and gorgeous as ever. He fiddled with his hair a bit and there was a look of something unfamiliar in his eyes. Was it anticipation, eagerness, uncertainty? Surely he wasn’t nervous like you. Sylus was consistently composed and confident, moving through life as if nothing in the world could throw him off balance. Something in your heart squeezed to get this rare glimpse of a moment where his composure was even the tiniest bit wavered. 

He moved to knock again and you quickly opened the door before his knuckles could reach it. As soon as his gaze met yours affection filled his eyes, “Hello, kitten. Are you going to invite me in?” 

You smiled, “Mmm, I’m not sure. I don’t make a habit of having shady individuals over to my apartment.” 

Sylus chuckled and slipped passed you through the front door, “You’re the one who called this shady individual over.” He stopped in the entryway, looking around the space in front of him where your living room and kitchen were. “Cute,” he turned back and smirked at you, “It’s very you, sweetie.” 

Unsure of what he meant by that, you bent down to the shoe rack next to your door and grabbed a pair of slippers, “It’s not much but I love it.” You dropped the slippers in front of Sylus for him and moved into the living room, “I would give you a tour but you can pretty much see everything from here.” 

“What about your bedroom?” You caught Sylus’ eyes and they sparkled with mischief and desire. He was teasing you but there seemed to be a quiet promise underlying his words. 

There was no helping the light blush that rose in your cheeks, “Let’s come back to that later.” 

A short laugh escaped Sylus and he walked through your living room, slippers now snug on his feet. His attention was turned to the bookshelves that lined the wall around your television. The shelves were full of books, some you had read but most unopened, as well as plushies, pictures, and plastic plants. He perused the contents of the shelves with a soft smile on his face. It was clear he was enjoying this glimpse into your interests. As he moved across the shelves he came to a sudden stop, something particular grabbing his attention. His hand reached out to grab a small picture frame. An expression of surprise took over his features and his head shook softly, “Well look here,” He turned to you and lifted the frame in your direction, “I guess I have been here before.” 

In the frame was a picture of you and Sylus. You were at an arcade, a line of claw machines sat behind you. In your arms was a plush penguin that Sylus had won you after countless attempts. Both of you were unsure of how much money he had actually ended up spending but you were sure he could have bought you a least five of the plushies online for the amount he spent on the one in the claw machine. It was the first time you and Sylus had done something that felt remotely like a date and you wanted to commemorate it with a picture. Of course, he had acted disinterested in taking it, letting you know that he was saying yes because you wanted to. However when you looked back at the photo your heart burst when you saw Sylus. While you smiled brightly at the camera his eyes were set on you, soft and adoring. It was the most gentle expression you had ever seen on his face. It was the look of a man in love. For this reason you had printed the photo as soon as you got home that evening. Something in you knew that it marked a beginning for you two. 

Perhaps you should be embarrassed that you had a framed picture of the two of you displayed in your home but you knew Sylus was silently reveling in his discovery. Not so he could hold it over you but because it revealed something about your feelings towards him. With no words to say, you simply shrugged at him. 

Sylus put the picture back and moved to the kitchen. He took his time as he opened your refrigerator and scanned it’s contents then began opening all of your cabinets and drawers. You raised an eyebrow watching him, “Are you looking for something specific or do you just enjoy snooping?” 

He continued his search of your kitchen space, “I just want to get an idea of where everything is.” His tone indicated this is a space he planned to spend more time in. After he closed the last cabinet he came to stand in front of you, “There wasn’t much food in there.” He nodded towards the refrigerator, “Do you need me to order you some groceries?” 

You rolled your eyes, “No, I’m perfectly capable of getting my own groceries. It’s just the end of the week. I was planning on going to the store tomorrow. Tonight is takeout night.” 

Sylus came closer to you, “Next time I’ll cook us dinner.” 

“You’re the guest here. Next time I’ll cook us dinner.”

“Kitten,” his hand came to rest on the top of your head, “You and I both know in the kitchen you are a lethal weapon.” Memories of your first dinner at Sylus’ drifted through your mind. He had insisted you just sit and watch as he prepared steak and salad. You wanted to be helpful though and you knew if you pressed hard enough, gave him your best kitten eyes, and cuddled close to him he would have no chance at resisting. He decided that chopping cucumbers for the salad was the best way you could be helpful. It felt like a child’s task but at least it was something. However, you managed to slice your finger and Sylus spent five minutes tending to your wound before putting you on steak watch duty. You were supposed to flip the steak after three minutes and then let him know you had done so. It sounded simple enough but you got distracted watching Sylus cut vegetables and wash the lettuce. After a while, he felt your eyes on him. He looked up and grinned at you, then his eyes shifted to the steak on the stove next to you, “You haven’t flipped it yet?” That snapped you out of your Sylus induced trance. When you flipped it over it was clear this cut was ruined. Neither of you were too interested in medium-well done steak and that was being generous. After that, you were ordered to sit on the sofa until dinner was ready

You shook your head, forcing the memory to dissipate, “Alright, I get it. You can cook for us next time.” 

Sylus smiled at you and put his arm around your shoulder. He led you to the couch where you sat nestled in his side. The two of you put on a movie while you decided on what to eat. The decision went the way it always did between the two of you; you said you didn’t have any preference and then rejected every restaurant Sylus suggested. After five tries he sighed, pulled out his phone, and put an order in somewhere. He wouldn’t tell you where just that you should trust him and you wouldn’t be disappointed. He pulled you closer and you sank deep into the couch, putting your feet up on the coffee table in front of you. There was no doubt in your mind that whatever food Sylus had ordered would be exactly what you were in the mood for. 

The two of you sat quietly on the couch, watching the movie and waiting for your food to arrive.  Every so often Sylus would shift next to you. It didn’t register at first but as it continued you realized how small your couch was and how large Sylus was. It certainly wasn’t the large, plush, luxury sofa that sat in his living room. Suddenly a wave of thoughts hit you, ‘He’s not comfortable here. Why would he want to spend time somewhere he isn’t comfortable? He’s probably desperately waiting for the food to arrive so he can get up.’ 

You looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of the discomfort you were so sure he was experiencing. His eyes shifted from the movie to you with a quirked eyebrow, “Am I more interesting than the movie?” 

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, “No, that’s not it.” You sat up and turned towards Sylus, “Are you comfortable?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “I was more comfortable when you had your head on my shoulder.” It was a light and teasing response. 

You shook your head, “I’m being serious.” There was a severity in your tone that raised a flag in Sylus’ mind. 

“Okay,” he shifted his body to fully face you, “of course I’m comfortable. Why are you worried about that?” 

You glanced down at your lap, “You seem cramped here. It’s a smaller couch than you’re used to and not nearly as soft.” The moment the words left your mouth you flushed with embarrassment. While the insecurity was overwhelming your thoughts it sounded trivial when said out loud. 

Sylus reached a hand out to tuck your hair behind your ear and cup your cheek, “Have I done something to make you think I care about the size of your couch, kitten?” 

“It’s just-“ your eyes squeeze shut for a moment. You can’t believe you’re actually about to admit to your inferiority complex. “It’s just, you live a pretty extravagant lifestyle and you’re always spending money on me. I can’t give you anything like the things you give me.”

Suddenly Sylus was leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. It was gentle and light, barely there, but his mouth lingered on yours. A few moments passed and he pulled back, his thumb rubbing across your cheek, “I don’t need you to give me anything, sweetie.” 

“I know you don’t need me to. I don’t need you to do any of the things you do for me either, but that doesn’t stop you.” 

He hummed, “I suppose it doesn’t.” Silence sat between the two of you as you looked at each other. Sylus seemed to be searching for something in your eyes. It didn’t take him long to find it as he sighed and dropped his head, “I’m sorry.” 

Panic shot through your body, “Sorry? What could you possibly have to be sorry for?” 

“I didn’t consider how my frivolous spending on you might make you feel.” He scooted closer to you and pulled towards him, pressing your head to his chest, “It makes me feel so good, I just assumed it was the same for you.” 

You wrapped your arms around his torso, “It makes you feel good to spend money on me?” 

“Of course, kitten.” A laugh rumbled in his chest, “Why on earth would I do it otherwise?” 

Behind him, you pulled your arms tighter, bringing your torso flush to his, “Out of habit, I guess? Or because you felt bad for me that I don’t have the things you have.” 

“You thought I wanted to elevate your lifestyle to what you believe my standards are?”

“Yea,” you nodded your face against his chest, “I guess you could put it like that.” 

Sylus leaned back and put his fingers under your chin to lift your gaze to him, “I don’t believe having money makes me better than you, sweetie. Maybe other people, but not you.” He leans down to press a soft kiss on your right cheek, your forehead, then your left cheek. “I’m not spending money on you because I need you to have expensive things. I do it because I want to give you everything.” Sylus takes your hand in his and presses it to his heart, “Do you feel that?” Beneath your hand his heartbeat drummed rapidly. For some reason it made you blush. “This is what it does to me, spending my money on you.” 

His confession felt overwhelmingly intimate. There was something sensual in his voice that made your brain fuzzy. “I don’t understand.” 

Sylus dropped his head as he laughed, “Okay, kitten. Let me be more direct.” His hands made their way down your back, sliding under your ass. In one swift motion he lifted you up and placed you on his lap. His voice was quiet when he leaned in to your ear, “It turns me on to use my money to buy you whatever you want.” 

There was no hiding the shiver that ran over your body. The two of you often teased each other and as your relationship progressed the teasing slowly became more suggestive. This was the first time Sylus had made such a blatant declaration though. His flirtation flustered you and you weren’t sure how to respond. Thankfully you were saved by the ring of the doorbell. “The food.” Your voice barely a whisper as you quickly scrambled off Sylus and made your way to the front door. Behind you he huffed out a laugh and rose off the couch. You grabbed the food from in front of your entryway and brought it into the kitchen, all the while avoiding eye contact with Sylus. Even without looking at him directly you could feel his gaze burning into you. As you began taking the food out of the bags, you took deep breaths to try and steady your racing heart. It was futile, of course, and only made worse by the strong arms that placed themselves on either side of you, leaning on the kitchen table. 

“Why won’t you look at me, sweetie?” Sylus brought his mouth close to your ear, his breath warm and tickling. The shiver returned and you knew he was grinning. 

“I’m just trying to get the food out.” 

Sylus’ strong hands gripped your shoulders and he gently turned you to face him. The look in his eyes was searing and he dragged his hands down your arms tortuously slow. Desire was thick in the air between you. This wasn’t the first time you had a moment like this but it was still overwhelming for you. No one had ever wanted you the way Sylus did, desperately and unyielding. You were still figuring out how to match his confidence. 

“Leave the food for a bit.” He leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. 

You let your head fall back a bit, eyes fluttering shut, “Sylus, it will get cold.” 

“I’ll order us more.” Suddenly you were hoisted up with a yelp, legs wrapping around Sylus’ waist. “I think it’s time you gave me a tour of your bedroom, kitten.” His lips claimed yours in a hungry kiss, his true intention never more clear. After a few moments Sylus pulled back, breath heavy and hot, lips already turning a deeper red. “Where?” He whispered. 

Your brain was foggy with need making it difficult to form words. You pointed in the direction of a door across the living room. This made him smirk, clearly enjoying your sudden loss for words. As he carried you towards the door he dove back in for your lips. It was impossibly gentle and intense at the same time. One thought crossed your mind as you savored the taste of him and heard the door open, ‘Sylus is about to become very acquainted with my bedroom.’

[starcrossedmusings]

Mine

Pairing: Hongjoong x Actress!Reader WC: 2.5k Warnings: smut (sexual degradation [reader is referred to as whore, slut, and hole], manhandling, tiny bit of spit kink, hickeys/marking, unprotected sex, use of a vibrator, oral sex [m receiving], light dacryphilia, spanking), swearing, jealous Hongjoong, possessive Hongjoong, established relationship, "good girl", probably some more that I missed (let me know)

Synopsis: You are an actress starring in a new drama, and fans online have been going crazy for you and your on-screen partner. After a particular scene goes viral, your boyfriend Hongjoong decides he needs to remind you who you belong to.

A/N: Requested by anon. I hope you like it!

The scene had gone viral overnight--one moment the drama you had been starring in was on the verge of cancellation, and now you were signing on for another season while your twitter blew up. The fans of the show were all in agreement: the season finale tension between you and your co star has sent a swarm of butterflies in their stomach. You had immediately called your boyfriend, Hongjoong, who was finishing up his world tour when you found out.

Hongjoong had wanted to be happy for you, and for the most part he was. But there was a nagging feeling that took root in his chest when he had watched that episode that he has no idea how to shake. He hadn't quite been able to pinpoint exactly what it was until Seonghwa pointed it out to him. He had been sitting backstage waiting for his turn in the hair and makeup chair, and was scrolling through the ship name tag on twitter with a clenched jaw. Seonghwa chuckled at his friend, immediately noticing the tension rolling off of him.

"You've gotta stop looking at all that shit. It's fine to feel jealous, but what you're doing now is gonna give you an ulcer."

Hongjoong continued his scrolling much to Seonghwa's dismay and determined that he was not jealous. No...he was fucking feral. The way you looked up at your co star was a look that should be reserved for him and him alone, and the likelihood of things progressing with the new season meant he needed to find a way to come to terms that you might be kissing this man. He was white knuckling his phone by the time his name was called. He just needed to get through one more night.

The following evening, you were lounging on your couch, silk pajamas on and a tv show playing. You were mindlessly invested in your show when you heard a knock at your door. You furrowed your brow, not expecting anyone at this hour. You paused your tv, and the knocking sounded again, but much more intense. You pad over to the door and look through the peephole, gasping and throwing it open in shock.

"Joong?! What are you doing here?" You throw your arms around your boyfriend's neck, tears springing to your eyes. "You must be exhausted, I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow morning?"

Hongjoong chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing tightly and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I needed to see my gorgeous girl."

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, angel. Thats why I needed to see you--needed to do this." Hongjoong brings your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, tilts your head up, and kisses you deeply.

The kiss is intense--a clash of teeth as he surges forward. He pushes you back into your apartment and kicks the door shut behind him, not ever breaking the connection between his lips and yours. It leaves you breathless and dizzy, the fervor with which he's exploring your mouth with his own.

Hongjoong feels like his chest could explode at any moment as he teeters on the edge between wanting to explain himself and wanting to just take what he wants. But he forces himself to separate from you long enough to let you catch your breath. He plants rushed kisses down your jawline and neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. He feels pride simmer hot and heavy in his veins as you sigh and tilt your head back to give him more access, your hands exploring the planes of his torso as he continues sucking at your neck. He chuckles as he feels your fingers slip under his t-shirt and trace along his skin.

"Did you miss touching me too, angel?"

The breath you loose from your nose is pointed, and he can tell his words are getting the desired effect. You nod, and he makes a tsking sound. "I need you to use your words."

"Yes," You breathe out almost instantly. Hongjoong smirks and starts kissing at your neck again, slowly walking you back towards your open bedroom door.

"Good girl. Missed how good you are for me" He mumbles into your neck, sucking a dark hickey into your pulse point.

"Fuck, Joong, easy! I have a shoot in a couple of days."

That sends his blood boiling. He pulls away from your neck, eyes dark and chest impossibly tight. He speaks lowly, maintaining eye contact.

"Worried your new boy toy will see?"

You furrow your brows in confusion, placing your hands on his chest as you halt your movement. You both stand on two separate sides of the threshold to your bedroom. "My what? What are you talking about?"

Hongjoong cocks his head, a dangerous glare taking over his gaze. "You know who I mean, angel. That asshole that has you so infatuated in your show. I've been looking at all the clips from your final episode. At the way you look at him. I'm not happy about it."

Realization washes over your gaze and he sees relief come flooding in. Wrong move.

"Oh you mean Christian? He's--"

Hongjoong grips your jaw roughly and forces your gaze to land on him, shock crossing your features at the harshness of his grip. He speaks with lethal quiet. "I don't want to hear you say his name. Ever." He steps closer to you, pressing his body against yours and gripping your hip harshly in his other hand. "Got it? You're mine. Nod if you understand."

He smirks as you nod, eyes all wide with shock and slightly glazed over. "There she is. Look at my good girl." He releases your jaw and smacks your ass firmly. "On the bed, angel. Hands and knees."

You turn and scramble over to your bed, planting your hands and knees firmly on the mattress. Hongjoong approaches behind you slowly, letting himself rake his gaze over your waiting form. He saunters to your bedside table, opening the drawer. He grabs your wand from the inside and smirks when he presses the button and finds it turns on. He quickly turns it off and turns to look at you.

"You left it on the highest setting?" He tuts, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you and holding the head of the toy up to your lips. He brushes it across your lips and tilts his head. "Angel, have you been a little whore while I've been gone?" He can see the way your breath catches and the embarrassed flush that starts creeping up your neck.

When you don't answer him, he smacks your ass again and growls out, "Answer me." He relishes in the way you yelp.

"Yes. Yes I've been a whore."

He smiles sadistically and tilts your chin so you're forced to look at him. "Whose whore have you been, angel? Your co-star's?"

You shake your head frantically. Hongjoong takes the wand and runs it teasingly across your clothed pussy, barely putting pressure and keeping it turned off.

"Whose whore are you then, angel?"

You take a steadying breath before you answer, focusing on not bucking your hips to meet the head of the inactive vibrator. "Your whore, Hongjoong."

He smacks your ass again, dropping the toy onto the bed and beginning to tug his sweatpants down to his thighs. "Damn right you are. And I bet my whore missed sucking this perfect cock, didn't she?" He stands and turns to face you, thighs touching the edge of the bed as his half-hard length springs free. You nod and lick your lips, staring up at him through your lashes. He tugs your hair, bringing you closer to the base of his cock. "Suck."

With the way you swallow him down greedily, Hongjoong thinks it's a miracle he doesn't cum immediately. Your mouth is so fucking warm, and the sounds of your gagging and choking alone could make him finish on a good day. He grips your hair at the root and forces your head further down until he feels your nose brush against his pelvis. He throws his head back and hisses out from between his teeth.

"Fuck yes. I missed your mouth." He lowers his gaze to look as you struggle to breath, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. His chest aches at the sight. "Awe angel, look at you. Trying so hard to stuff all of this cock down your throat. Such a good hole for me."

He doesn't miss the way your thighs clench together.

"You like being a hole for me? Like letting me use you?" He thrusts his hips into your mouth and almost loses it when you gag, a tear running down your cheek. He pulls you back and looks down as you gasp for air, coughing slightly. A trail of your spit is still strung between the head of his cock and your bottom lip. He forces you to look up at him.

"Open."

You open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out slightly. He pumps himself a couple of times, looking down as you wait patiently. He smacks the side of your face with his cock before spitting into your mouth.

"Swallow, whore."

He almost busts when you do without question, keeping your doe eyes locked on his fiery gaze. He pumps himself a couple more times, grabbing the vibrator and making his way to the other edge of the bed. He pulls your hips back into him, loving the way you squeal slightly. He pushes the flimsy material of your sleep pants and underwear down and runs a finger across your folds teasingly.

"You're soaked for me, angel. You really do love being a hole for me, don't you?"

You nod and whine, arching your ass back into him and savoring the way his cock brushes against you. You hear him turn the vibrator on, and gasp as he presses it firmly against your clit. The high setting sends you reeling almost instantly, and he harshly grips your hips to keep you in place.

"Whores take what they're given, angel. And right now, you're going to take everything I give, and you're going to thank me for it, aren't you?"

You cry out at the intense feeling building in your core, whining and sinking the upper part of your torso further into the mattress. "Yes oh god yes!"

Hongjoong smirks and runs a hand down your spine as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in torturously slowly, and groans when he sinks in to the hilt. He circles the vibrator in tight circles on your clit, watching as you shake and thrash below him. He grips your hair again, pulling harshly until your ear is in line with his lips.

"I'm going to fuck you now, angel. And you aren't going to cum until I say you can." He feels you clench around him and nips harshly at your neck. "Ah ah, none of that angel. I'm not going to move until I know you'll be a good slut for me."

The vibrator is still pressed against your clit, and it takes everything in you to still your hips long enough to give him what he wants. You whimper and nod, trying to focus your breathing. "I'll be so good for you. Please."

All of Hongjoong's restraint snaps, and he pushes you roughly into the mattress, setting a brutal pace. The snap of his hips has your whole body rocking back and forth, each thrust hitting that special spot deliciously. He keeps the vibrator firmly on your clit, and you quickly feel your legs begin to shake as pressure builds rapidly. You're a whimpering mess beneath him, and Hongjoong feels like he's on cloud nine as you begin to squirm and writhe. He grips the base of your neck with his free hand, throwing his head back and relishing in the way your pussy sucks him in greedily.

"So. Fucking. Perfect. For. Me." He punctuates each word with a thrust, taking out his anger from the past 48 hours on your abused hole. "Would your co star make you feel this good, angel?" He growls out.

You whine again, long and high, as your shake your head. The sound is muffled by the plush mattress, but the sentiment makes its way across perfectly. Hongjoong coos and mocks you. "No? Awe, angel, whose cock are you gonna fall apart on, hmm?"

The choked "yours" that flies from your mouth sends Hongjoong completely over the edge. He snaps his hips even harder into you, circling the vibrator and hissing as you clench onto him like a vice. "Thats right, this pussy is all mine, your orgasm is all mine. You. Are. Mine." His thrusts lose their rhythm briefly before he cums, groaning loudly and gripping your neck impossibly tight. He resumes his normal rhythm shortly after, brushing against your g-spot with every thrust. Your whole lower half is trembling and he continues fucking into you, whines and moans flowing freely from you.

"Gonna fuck all this cum back up into my pussy, angel. Take it."

"Joong I can't hold it anymore," you whimper, "please let me cum!"

He leans down, pressing his body into yours as he goes impossibly harder. "Does my whore want to come all over my cock?"

You throw your head back, arching and whining, "Yes! God yes please let me!"

He chuckles lowly and circles the vibrator again, sending shock waves across your core, "Go ahead then, whore. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel."

Your orgasm crashes over you violently, profanities mixed with Hongjoong's name ripping from your lips as your whole body shakes. The pleasure has you seeing stars, and it's almost like you can't breathe as it peaks. Hongjoong fucks you through the entire thing, growling lowly in your ear as he thrusts, "Fuck, you're squeezing me so good, angel. Thats it."

As your orgasm ebbs away, Hongjoong slows to a stop and removes the toy from your clit. Both of you are breathing heavily, and he kisses the back of your shoulder gently. He stays buried in you as you collapse onto your forearms and takes a moment to stare down at how wrecked you look. He swears to himself that you never look more perfect than you do in the afterglow. He runs a hand down your spine and removes himself from you, taking note as his cum spills out of you and down the inside of your thighs.

"Stay there, angel. I'll be right beck."

He breathlessly stands and moves to your attached bath, wetting a washcloth and returning to gently clean you up. He chuckles lightly as you jump when he brushes against your folds and teases, "Feeling sensitive?"

"Fuck off." You breath out. He laughs and tosses the washcloth to the floor, pulling you into him as he collapses beside you. He kisses the top of your head. "How are you feeling, angel?" He marvels as you turn to look at him, pupils blown out and his marks on your neck.

"I'm feeling like I should make you jealous more often." You joke.

He huffs a laugh through his nose and nuzzles into your neck.

You're going to be the death of him.

[laufeysvalentine]

death of you, remus lupin

remus lupin x fem!reader | masterlist

summary ༄ remus x friend!reader -- or in which you realize you like remus. and that absolutely terrifies you. requested

word count ༄ 3.4k

nora’s notes ༄ hiii i hate this but probably will not be able to post until may or june soooo here it is anyway 💘 hope you enjoy!

Liking someone has always been the death of you. You could name all of the crushes you’d ever had on one hand–the boy next door in your childhood home, the sandy-haired one at the ice cream shop the summer you’d just turned 13, the guy who sat next to you in potions year 5.  The thing (or the problem, depending on how you look at it) was that few boys proved to be to your liking–but, if they were, you liked them hard. 

These boys had essentially nothing in common. Different personalities, hair colors, stories. The only trait that united them was how much you liked them–and how awkward you became as your relationships progressed. 

You weren’t boisterous the way some of your peers were–cough, Sirius Black–but you weren’t a complete hermit, despite what some of your friends would claim. You kept to yourself mostly. Being on the outskirts of the picture means you’re still in the frame. The thing was that the second you realized your feelings for someone, you would straightjacket yourself. Your personality would curl in on the edges, speech coiled in the pit of your stomach. 

You try your best now to not like people. You’re totally fine until you do, so staying away from that territory is your best bet–at all costs. 

“Are you coming?” One of your dormmates sticks a head back into your room. They’re going to Hogsmeade, or something like that, to meet the new Beauxbatons transfer. 

You emerge from your trance, shaking your head. “No, I’m going to the library. I’ll catch you later, though.” 

You receive a nod and the sound of footsteps running down the hallway, which cues you to pack up your books and head out to study, where you’re planning on meeting Remus. 

The library is one of your favorite places to be. It’s dark but not dank. It’s cozy. Especially when you spot the boy at your table, snug in one of his signature knitted jumpers. You can see his eyes lifting from the parchment spread in front of him to watch you approach. 

“Morning,” he says with his signature quietness–low and firm. Steady. 

“It’s mid-afternoon,” you respond as a grin crosses your face subconsciously. “You feeling alright?”

“Aren’t I always?” He gives you a lopsided smile, taking your head shake as a response. He’s avoiding your question–the full moon’s coming in a few days–but you’re not one to push. That’s why he opened up to you in the first place. “You going to Hogsmeade later?” 

You shrug. “Maybe. My roommates went ahead, though.” 

“Prongs and I are heading over later–actually, the whole lot will, if you fancy checking it out.” He raises his eyebrows, and you consider it. You like hanging out with James and Sirius; they always make you feel welcome, having been adopted into their group via Remus and being in Lily’s circle. 

“Sure, not like I have anything better to do. This is a bore itself.” You gesture jokingly to him and pause to let him pretend to be offended, acting out the dramatics he’s clearly inherited from Sirius. Luckily, he only bemoans your lack of enthusiasm to hang out for a few moments before returning to his studies. Head over paper, neck craned. “Your posture is terrible, Remus.” 

He pouts, still hunched into himself. “Let me live.” 

“Okay, you’re the one who’s going to have back problems when you’re thirty,” you shrug, patting his arm with a hollow affection and pulling back to work on your essay. “But, suit yourself. I let you live and you let me work.” 

He leans over your seat, a deluge of ink and chocolate and smudges of cigarette smoke that tickles you in the best way and leaves you the slightest bit dizzy, to deliver a quick pinch to your earlobe. You think he mutters something like you started it, but with a petty slap to his shoulder, he shuts up and gets back to his essay. 

You’re not sure if it’s hours or minutes that slip between the two of you, but at some point, Remus stands, looking over the table. A quick glance through the cloud-kissed windows tells you it’s still afternoon. Probably. It’s a little too gray outside to tell.

“Ready to go? Think the boys are heading there now,” he yawns, arms stretching above his head. The edge of his wool sweater pulls up, a sliver of his sweetly tanned skin peeking out. 

You stand right after, gathering your things into a bag. “Mhm, let’s go.” 

When the cold nips at your cheeks outside, makes shivers run down your skin, you shudder, running in place to warm up. Remus laughs. 

“That’s rude,” you say with a scrunch in your nose. “I’m freezing my arse off and all you’re doing is laughing at me.” 

He suppresses himself into a broad, open smile. “If I had a hat, I’d give it to you.”

You shrug. “It’s the thought that counts, I suppose.” 

“Yes, it is,” he says solemnly. Somehow, some time, his arm wraps around your shoulder. “To keep you warm.” 

You hum as you enter Three Broomsticks, catching sight of the Marauders immediately. They’re sitting with your roommates, actually, and someone unfamiliar–the new girl, it must be. Your spine straightens of its own accord, shoulders roll back. Remus notices, dropping his arm from you as the new girl catches sight of you. 

There you two stand, shoulder to shoulder, pressed awkwardly together like soldiers. 

“Hi!” She stands, a wave of ink falling over her back in silk curls. She’s gorgeous. “I’m Romy, Romy Roche. From Beauxbatons.” 

You nod, offering her a quiet smile and introducing yourself. Remus does the same before the two of you slide into the booth, you next to Romy, him across. He gives you a sly grin behind his hand, like a secret between the two of you. You’re not sure what he’s smiling at, yet you can’t help but give one back.

Romy turns towards you, doe eyes big and chocolate and shiny. She asks you something that you respond to dutifully, turned towards her. You steal a long glance at Remus to watch his eyes crinkle, soften, then drift off of you to speak to Sirius. You lean your elbow onto the table, latching onto a conversation between Romy and Lily, chiming in when awarded space. 

As the afternoon shimmers to a sweeping dusk, everyone stands, shuffles back to the castle in one big lump. Your roommate comes to sweep her arm into yours, you walking on the outside. She leans into you, mouth almost on your ear. 

“I think Romy’s into Lupin,” she says at a volume probably too loud to be comfortable given both of said people are currently two steps behind you. 

“Remus?” You ask. “She wants Remus?” 

For some reason, those words sour on your tongue, bite at the roof of your mouth. 

She nods enthusiastically as you approach the Great Hall, the richness of Hogwarts dinner steeping into your bodies. 

“Hm,” you say in response, pulling towards your house’s table. You don’t know what this feeling is–something that’s curdling in your chest. Whatever it is, it’s ugly. Romy and Remus. They do sound nice together. You swallow back the bile that climbs up your throat.

It should probably be illegal to wake up as early as your roommates do on a Sunday morning. 

It should definitely be illegal to make as much noise as they do so early on the aforementioned Sunday morning. 

With a groan, you lurch yourself awake before you can help it. You’re at war with yourself, but you can’t sleep with all the pattering around and attempts at whispering–Merlin help them, they’re trying. You think. 

When they see you, one lets out a guilty giggle. “Sorry. Breakfast is over soon, you ready?” 

The groan that escapes you is involuntary, you swear. You force your body upwards and moving, half-awake as you stumble out the door and into the hall. There’s the Marauders, Romy, your friends. Remus. Your eyelids perk open a little more. Romy’s definitely staring at him, they’re sitting next to each other. Maybe she really does like him. 

You slip into a seat beside James Potter. 

“Morning,” Remus says from across the table. His hair is mussed, sleep ringing his under eyes. He smiles at you. It’s lopsided, tilting his cheekbones. 

“Good morning,” Romy echoes, offering a head tilt. A soft warmness flows from her, washing her in a sweet golden. 

“Good morning,” you return with as much of a smile you can muster with drowsiness oozing through your system. 

Remus looks across at you, tosses a sweet your way. “I bought this for you yesterday, at the shops. You better eat it and enjoy. It cost nearly double what it should have.” 

You can’t help the squeal that scratches at your throat. “Thank you, Rem, this is perfect.” 

He reaches into his bag and slides another one towards you. “I’m glad.”

Romy looks at him with a kind curiosity, tapping on his forearm to ask him something that you can’t hear. Your shoulders slouch involuntarily. 

“Are you okay?” The boy asks as breakfast ends. “You’ve been quiet today.” 

“I’m always quiet,” you counter. “Ask anyone.” 

“Not usually.” He raises an eyebrow. “And quiet is different from completely mute.” 

“I’m just tired.” You yawn, accentuating your point. “Catch you later?” 

He nods in response, turning to his friends when they grab onto his elbow. You stand as well, ready to walk out when a body appears by your side. You startle, not realizing anyone had walked up. 

It’s Romy, who shifts her hair away from you, allowing you a whiff of her coconut perfume. She smiles at you. You smile back. 

“Can I walk with you to the dormitories?” She requests, words softened by her accent. 

“Of course,” you find yourself saying, letting her lead you to your common room. 

“So, I must ask,” she says only two feet outside of the hall. “You and Remus Lupin are dating, no?” 

“What?” You step away from her, jaw loosened in shock. You and Remus? Dating? No way. 

“I thought he was cute at first,” she continues, taking your silence as permission. “But I didn’t want to take your boyfriend.” 

“No, we’re not–we’re just friends.” Heat is scratching the inside of your cheeks, burning. 

“Oh, but you are so cute together. You definitely like each other, no?” Her expression is pure enthusiasm. Your heart’s fluttering now, thrashing in your ribcage. 

You don’t like Remus. You can’t. That’s not how things work. No. No. 

“No, I–” you stutter out, blinking rapidly. “I don’t like him like that. No.” 

She tilts her head at you. Bobs her head up and down. Nodding, you realize. She’s nodding. You nod back, once, then turn away. 

“Okay,” she says, turning back to your common room. 

You barely remember saying goodbye to her, it all begins to smudge. You’re in the common room, then your bedroom. You don’t like Remus. You can’t. You know what happens when you like people. Your palms clam. Your whole body clams, condensing you into the pearl of an unbreakable shell. Your shoulders shudder. Convulse. 

Maybe–maybe, you’re tired. You’re imagining things. He’s a friend. A good friend. That’s it. You don’t like him. You won’t like him. 

Then again, you’ve never allowed yourself to think about him that way. In some sort of self preservation, you’ve pushed that image away. Do you like him? 

Cold clings to your skin and a waterfall of images shuffles through your mind. Him staring up at you with those pretty, pretty eyes. His knit sweaters. His whispers past midnight, hushed in the library, just the two of you huddled in a corner. Him waiting for you to tie your shoes, use the restroom, tidy up after class, even when his friends had long since left. His lopsided grin. 

Shit. You don’t like him. 

You’re in love with him.

–

Before you know it, you’re pacing around your dorm. What the hell do you do now? Your heart freezes when you think about facing him tomorrow. Why did you have to figure this out? Couldn’t you just live in ignorance for the rest of your life? Your head drops down. You love Remus. 

You don’t sleep that night. Instead, your eyes drift to your bedside, where photos of you and your friends lay. There’s one of you and your roommates, you and your family, and you and Remus. His arm is over your shoulder, his thumb massaging your arm. You’re turned towards him all bright and shiny, mid-sentence. How could you not have seen this coming? Of course you were in love. It had been in front of you forever. Fuck. 

Morning rolls around into a heavy thing, something you try to push aside. All night, you’ve tossed in between your sheets, trying to avoid this, avoid him. 

You pull the blanket over your head when your roommates call you to breakfast, mumbling an excuse. You only force yourself up to head to Potions, slipping into the classroom last minute to avoid Remus and his stare. 

You fail, miserably. Though you’ve slipped into a seat near the front, where you can’t see him, he can see you, and you feel the hug of his stare through the whole hour, heating the back of your head. The thought of speaking to him raises bile in your throat, so as soon as class is over, you shove your things into your bag and dart towards the door. You vaguely hear him calling your name, you think, but you don’t dwell on it. You don’t dare to. 

You can’t imagine what you’d ever say to him, now. How you could ever face him after knowing these feelings. And so unfortunately, you have many more classes with him. You manage to sidle out of Transfiguration without him noticing, and intend to escape to the library for lunch, but before you can, Lily’s looped her arm through yours and guided you to the great hall. Fuck. 

You try to search for an escape, but she’s practically dragging you with her, chattering on about something she’d read recently. 

And then, oh shit, she’s sat you with the Gryffindors, with the Marauders, and there’s Remus sliding across and oh shit, your palms are sweaty and your mind’s stopped working and you’re breathing quick and not enough. 

“Y/N,” he says with a scary kindness, the kind that makes your heart race and ache against your ribs, begging to be let out. “Are you okay? You came late to Potions and you’ve been acting all funny since then.”

You dart your eyes away from his face, hands pulled onto your lap to fiddle with themselves. “Oh, yeah, I’m–I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.” 

A glance up tells you that he doesn’t buy it. His eyes narrow. He can tell you’re curling into yourself. 

His hand reaches under the table, finds yours. He gives you a friendly pat on the knee, or so you tell yourself. “You can talk to me. Always.” 

Blush burns your cheeks and your eyes slide to where his hand is still on yours, warming you up. You try your best to nod. Or to squeak out something. You used to be so good at this. You used to tease him, joke around. Now all you can do is stare at your plate and pray you don’t burst into flames.

His gaze is hot on you, and you shift in your seat, muscles suddenly tense. He releases your hand from his hold, and you burst upwards, mumbling something to Lily about needing to go finish a Charms project and escaping from the Great Hall. 

You’ve made it five steps before a warm hand wraps around your wrist, grabbing a shriek from your throat. They pull you into a Potions classroom so quickly that you can’t look up to see who it is nor fight back–either way, you’re too stunned to react. 

“Tell me what��s wrong.” You’d recognize that voice anywhere, velvet tenderness and crackling with love. 

“Remus?” You ask quietly. 

“You don’t have a Charms project,” he says without answering you. He knows you know, that you would know with your eyes closed and ears closed off. You know him blind, turned upside down and inside out. 

When you look up at him, the intensity in his eyes makes you shrink back. “You heard me?” 

“What’s wrong?” He ignores you without ignoring you. The twitch of his hand at your side tells you everything. “You’ve been weird all day. It’s scaring me.” 

His grip loosens. 

You look down, watching his fingers loosely encircling your wrist, dancing across your skin. Still, his touch leaves bruises, ones you’ll never be able to see, printing themselves shamelessly onto your heart, your soul. 

When he speaks again, his voice drops to an intimacy you’d only ever dreamed of. “It’s like you don’t know me, like I’m a stranger.” 

No, that’s something much worse. Hurt. 

“What did I do?” He’s pleading now, his other hand coming to rub at your wrist. “I’ll fix it. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.”

A tear slides from your eye, tracing down your face. His thumb rises to your cheek, wipes it into your skin. 

“I don’t want to see you upset. I care about you, dove.” He scares you with his understanding, sometimes. Never have you seen a man so kind. “I care about you. Sometimes, I think it’s too much. I could drown in you and still want more. I’m greedy for you, for your attention.” 

Your lips part. Still stunned into silence. You won’t–no, can’t–say anything. “I–” 

“What’s wrong, baby?” His thumb wanders to the plush of your lip, pushes in. “Tell me something. Anything, please.” 

“I’m scared, Remus.” You say finally, voice a papery whisper. “I think I like you. I think I love you.” 

He doesn’t say anything to you, not at first. He freezes, eyes sweeping across your face like headlights. Just for a moment, you clam again. You shouldn’t have said that. He cares about you, but just as a friend. You should’ve stayed silent. 

You’re embarrassed now, and you move to step backwards, away from him and this suffocating room away from his stare and his eyes those melting eyes boring into you, oh, Merlin. But he anticipates it, anticipates you. 

One hand falls to cup the back of your head. You lean into it involuntarily, let him smooth out your hair and pull you back. 

“That’s not what I thought you were going to say,” he pushes a breath from his mouth. 

“I’m sorry.” Your face is flaming again. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“Me neither,” he says, making you stop. The pause that lingers between the two of you is heavy. 

Then, a belly chuckle, which makes you squirm with warmth, letting his laugh settle over your skin. It’s collected just as much as it’s trembling with relief. “I thought you would say something much worse. I’m scared that I more than love you. There’s not a word for it yet, but I love you so much that I will will it into existence.”

You shudder. Remus, Remus, Remus. 

He says your name like a chant, smooth and thunderous at once. A command and a lullaby. You’ve been put on pause, putty to every motion he makes. The twitch of his finger by his side. His eyelids flutter as they shutter. Your stomach clenches. 

“May I?” He asks so tenderly, so softly that something in your body roils, relaxes so completely that you almost let yourself cry. 

You nod. He’s so close that your noses bump. Your lips part in anticipation, in waiting. 

Three seconds pass. Four. And you can’t say when he erases the space between you or when he became yours or when you melted together and your arms closed around his neck because it’s so natural. You and him just are. His lips, sweet and soft, on yours. His thumb petting your cheekbone. His eyelashes fluttering, faces so close that you can feel them on your skin. Your heart buzzes at his sweetness and the feeling that tickles your insides, this feeling that you want him to hold on to you until time dissolves. When all else fails, you know your love will thrive, that it will do nothing but expand. 

masterlist

tags | @lydiasfalling @cowboylikemac @treefairy-28 @lolwey @callsignwidow @navs-bhat @hisparentsgallerryy @brxght-world @grxcisxhy-wp @luvv-danielle @idkman5353. @just-here-for-ff @rubyinthebooks @laurenzitaa @ariesandwolves @wasiasproject

[ahundredtimesover]

Something About You (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut (?)

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption, minor injury (18+)

Word count: 17.9k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

A/N: My favorite Koo look! Hope you're enjoying this series so far!

[From: kook] Leaving in a bit. Be there in 20.”

You turn off your laptop camera and quickly give Jungkook a call, wanting him to hear your cutesy, pleading voice for this request.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks on the other end.

“Hello to my amazing friend. I’ve run out of tea and I really need one,” you cry out. “Do you think you can get or make me a cup? Please?”

“Sure, there’s a cafe near my place,” he chuckles. “Anything specific?”

“Chamomile or jasmine,” you respond. “Thank you! I’ll see you in a bit!”

You end the call and quickly get back to your meeting, your fourth one of the day, and it’s only been seven hours since you clocked in at work. You’re thankful for work-from-home Fridays but somehow they’re even more tiring, at least recently, given the upcoming holidays and people taking their respective leaves. 

Like many at your firm, it’s your last day before you take a few weeks off then return in early January. Everyone’s doing end-of-year meetings and pre-planning for next year. There are financial reports to submit and project updates to consolidate. You were able to get all the paperwork done overnight so you could focus on your meetings during the day and you just can’t wait for it to be over so you can completely switch off.

“I guess that wraps it up,” your manager says after you provide a progress summary of all your ongoing research projects. “You got everything on-track and we’ll be starting next year on a good note. Thank you, ___. You deserve this break.”

“We all do,” you smile. “Enjoy the break, everyone! I’ll see you next year.”

You end the meeting and drop your head on your desk. Today was a marathon and you feel like you’re still running on adrenaline so you take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You’ve got a couple of days of vacation with your friends and then several more with your family when you go to your hometown and that technically starts right now. 

So you turn off your laptop, clear out your desk, and do a final check of your things before dressing up in time for Jungkook’s arrival in five minutes. 

He’s already standing by the trunk of his car when you scurry down the driveway and drag your luggage to meet him. You apologize for making him wait but he waves you off to say that it’s okay. You load your things and quickly get into the passenger seat.

“Here’s your tea,” Jungkook says, handing you a hot cup that you excitedly receive. 

You take a sip and hum in satisfaction at its warmth. The scent and the taste are already making you feel better, and you sink in your seat at the comfort it gives you. Releasing a drawn out hum, you feel your muscles slowly relax.

“Looked like you needed that, huh?” Jungkook says as he starts driving.

You’re both headed to the airport where you'll meet your other friends who are on their way there after work, too. Living close to Jungkook, he offered to pick you up so that there’s only one of your cars you’ll leave at the parking for the duration of your trip to Sapporo.

“Totally. I was up until 4AM getting all of my paper work done,” you sigh.

“And what time did you wake up?”

“7:30.”

“Yah, that’s not a healthy sleeping habit,” he reprimands you.

“Says the guy who used to do exactly that,” you point out.

“Those were college days. I’m an adult now, you know? I get at least seven hours of sleep because any less and I’d be a dysfunctional mess.”

“It’s so weird how we’re at that age where we require a lot of hours of sleep but then in 10 years’ time, our body will just decide it can survive with four.”

“We produce less melatonin as we age,” he informs you. “But you know what’s funny about my 4 - 10 AM sleeping pattern before? People thought I was up studying but I was really just playing video games for most of it.”

“Oh I’m not surprised,” you shake your head. “I already knew you're the one who influenced Jimin’s sleeping habits. He used to follow a strict curfew and then you messed it up.”

“Yeah and now he thanks me because he’s now used to it. He says it’s how he survives his job.”

“Working in advertising requires that, I guess,” you frown. “At least he gets to have a break. At least we all do! I am completely shutting off so please call me out if I talk about work.”

“Sure, that’ll be fun,” he chuckles. “Can I call you out on other things, too?”

You make a face at him and say he’ll do that anyway even if you tell him not to.

You yawn for the third time in the past minute and Jungkook turns to you. 

“Sleep. It’s a long drive so might as well get some of your energy back,” he says. “I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

“Okay,” you say as you yawn again. “If I snore… just suck it up.”

He playfully rolls his eyes then points to the lever that adjusts the seat so you can lie down more comfortably. He puts some mellow music on and you fall asleep instantly, curled against your arms and soft snores escaping you. 

Jungkook can only laugh to himself as he sneaks glances at you during the ride. It was about a month ago when he told himself that the way to deal with this maybe harmless and fleeting crush he has for you is to spend less time together. That was only slightly possible because there was some lunch or dinner with your friends every weekend, but it wasn’t as if not seeing you meant he wasn’t thinking about you. 

Of course he still was. He thought about you a lot and wondered how you were doing. For the first time, he was thankful for his stressful job and the busy days of making student reports for the end of the semester, which meant he couldn’t always meet you every time you asked if he was done with work or if he was in the area where you were. He was always tempted to just drop things to see you but he knew that would make things more complicated for him. 

But then again, he hasn’t even fully grasped exactly what he feels yet. Is it admiration? A newfound fondness? Did he just need to rid himself of some past baggage that he didn’t even realize he was carrying for things to make sense to him? 

Regardless, he knew that spending more time with you - for an extended period of time, and in close proximity - isn’t going to make things easier. But Taehyung just had to spring this trip on all of you and no one could refuse because he’s actually the other baby of the group that everyone has a soft spot for and he’s leaving for who knows how long again in a few months. 

Jungkook’s not complaining at the least because he’d go anywhere with his friends. He just finds it a bit comical that this is exactly what he said he shouldn’t be doing but here he is now - on another long drive with you asleep next to him, with a two-plus hour flight ahead to a city he always wanted to go to, and a few days of winter coldness that might cause him to seek your warmth in one way or another. Or you might seek his for all he knows and that might actually be worse.

He just shakes his head and focuses on the road after glancing at you again. He’s not really the type to overthink things. He’s fared well in most aspects of his life by going with the flow and dealing with whatever comes his way. 

Though his relationships are another story, he supposes those youthful years were characterised by a level of insecurity and lack of trust in himself that made him hold onto things that didn’t feel right. He thinks he’s a lot more mature now - he’ll have conviction in whatever he feels for you, whatever it is, and he’ll accept rejection if that’s where it’ll lead to. 

He’ll see where things go but for now, what matters is that he, you, and all of your friends get to enjoy this trip as much as possible.

Jungkook finally makes it to the airport and checks in his car for a few days of parking. He wakes you up and you take a while to open your eyes. He pats your head when you do and reminds you that you’ll have more time to sleep on the plane.

You dazedly drag your luggage and you pout at Jungkook who giggles at your sleepy state. 

“I’m so tired,” you pout at him as you both make your way to the check-in area where the rest of your friends are waiting.

“I can tell. Let’s just get through the gates and then you can sleep somewhere there, okay?”

You nod as if you’ll cry any moment, and part of him wants to just pull you close so you can lean on him while you sleep but that might be too unexpected so he just puts his hand on your shoulder to stop you from falling. 

“Princess can’t stay awake?” Jimin’s voice cuts through the airport chatter.

“She barely got any sleep last night and she had meetings all day,” Jungkook informs your friends who have gathered where you are. 

“Aww, poor thing,” Jimin hums as he hugs you, and you respond by hugging him tighter.

“Let’s get to the gates then,” Yoongi orders. “There are lots of places we can eat and rest at.”

You all line up and slowly get through the check-in line before you’re able to head to the gates. Gyu-rim finds a table big enough for 12 at a restaurant and while all of them order their meals, you stay seated, with your head on Jimin’s shoulder and on your way to dreamland once again. 

“Let’s take turns,” Mo-eum tells him, as she finishes her rice bowl first then shifts your head to lean on hers after.

You briefly wake up to have a few spoonfuls of your bulgogi before offering the rest to Jungkook and then taking quick naps again. You’ve seriously never been this tired. But you feel like your body knew it could afford to just shut down because you’re on vacation. It just didn’t plan it well enough because you’re in the middle of the airport, just randomly dozing off. 

You finally board the plane and find that you’re seated next to Jungkook who’s on the window seat, and Taehyung and Mo-eum are on the row in front of you, while an aisle separates you from Jimin. It’s a good enough arrangement, and Jungkook helps you load your carry-on in the overhead compartment before you take your seat and immediately rest your head on his shoulder.

It’s a natural thing for you to do, and you suppose your friends are used to you by now. You make yourself comfortable then look up to smile at Jungkook.

“I’m gonna fall asleep once we take-off,” you tell him.

“I’m sure you will,” he chuckles, as he looks through the emergency instructions. 

“Have we sat next to each other on a flight before?” You ask.

“Uh, I think this one flight to Jeju,” Jungkook responds. “But that was some time ago. I might’ve been asleep then.”

“Hmm, that’s why,” you hum.

“What?”

“I didn’t realize how comfy you are.”

“It’s probably the clothes, ___,” he reasons, more to himself. “I need them to be fluffy and warm because it’s winter.”

You adjust yourself again before resettling your head on his side.

“Maybe.”

Jungkook doesn’t overthink it. You’ve leaned on his shoulder lots of times before. This isn’t out of the ordinary. But with you pointing out that you haven’t really sat next to each other on flights before reminds him again of how you’ve always just been part of the whole. And now he’s got this time and proximity with you and it’s comforting but also exciting.

Even if yes, he’s just playing games on his phone while you flick through the airplane magazine while waiting for take-off. Once you’re up in the air and the seatbelt light has turned off, you push back your seat and start dozing off.

Your head keeps slipping from the position it’s in, even as he tries to straighten it so you don’t hurt your neck in the process. Perhaps out of discomfort, you briefly wake up to unlatch the table then lay the pillow and your head on it. Even then, it constantly bounces from the slight turbulence so you sit back again and shift your body in search of the right position. 

Jungkook sees you cross your arms against your chest and assumes you’re cold, but just as he’s about to cover you with his airline-provided blanket, Mo-eum peeks her head from between the seats. 

“She needs to hug something when she’s asleep,” your best friend says. 

“Oh, uh—”

You curl your body in the seat and snore softly, and Jungkook can sense your body’s need for a proper position. So he lightly taps you awake, grabs a spare hoodie from his bag on the floor, then places it on his lap. He gestures towards it and you take the offer, immediately pulling up the arm rest and laying half of your body on top of his. 

You bend your legs and adjust yourself. You have your pillow on top of his jacket that’s on top of his lap, your blanket over you and then his blanket for you to hug. You release a low moan then your breathing steadies. Figuring out your position must’ve tired you, but with how fast you’ve fallen asleep, he figures you’ve found the right one.

Is he glad it’s on his lap? Not exactly, and only because it’s a kind of closeness he’s not used to with you, and he’s worried he’d look for it. But it doesn’t matter because you’re comfortable and he’d gladly help you get that much deserved rest in whatever way. Even if it’s at the cost of his stupid heart. 

Mo-eum peeks again to check on you and giggles when she sees where you ended up. She turns around and kneels on her seat to take a photo of you slumped on Jungkook’s lap while the said man poses. 

“Cute,” she smiles, before sitting back down and showing it to her seatmate.

It prompts Taehyung to turn around, too, laughing under his breath at how Jungkook is trying to figure out where to place his hands, now that you’ve hijacked his personal space. 

But Jungkook does figure it out, as he holds onto your arm to keep you from falling in case there’s another turbulence. Thankfully there isn’t, and when it’s announced that the plane will now start its descent so everyone must sit upright, he wakes you up and tells you that you’ll be landing soon.

You were in deep sleep and having a good dream that you don’t remember and the next thing you know, someone’s shaking your arm and telling you to wake up. Feeling like you’re on a bed, you shift your body and stretch your arms. But then you hear a groan and you look up to see Jungkook glaring at you.

“Did I hit your face?” You gasp, suddenly sitting up then turning his chin to check any damage. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“You hit my jaw,” he groans. “But yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oops,” you sweetly smile. 

“Hey, you don’t apologize like that to me or Jimin when you hit our faces,” Taehyung remarks, turning his head and cocking his eyebrow. 

“That’s because Kook has a precious nose that must always be protected,” you reply with a straight face. “You don’t.”

“Yah!” Jungkook exclaims, knowing it’s a running joke in your group.

He pinches you in retaliation but you giggle at him and pinch his cheeks in response. 

“I’m kidding. Thanks, Kook. I’ve regained my energy and now I feel ready to take on the day,” you confidently say.

“___, it’s 9:30 PM,” Jungkook deadpans. 

“I’m really hungry, too,” you add, disregarding his statement.

“So now we have to deal with an energetic and hungry you? At this hour?” Jungkook groans. 

“Order food with me when we get to the hotel?” You ask, not minding his complaints. 

“And if it’s closed?”

“The convenience store, then!”

“Now I’m the one who’s tired.”

“No, you’re not! You can’t be!” You pout at him with your puppy eyes.

“Fine, whatever,” he gives in as he always does.

You’re talking about the dream you don’t remember when the sight of the snow-capped streets catches Jungkook’s attention. You see his doe-eyes go wide and he looks so innocent,  but you understand the amusement - it looks stunning outside and you can’t wait to bury yourself in the pillowy ice and breathe in the chilly air.

Both of you just look out while waiting to land and disembark. You manage to get all your luggage quickly then head to three separate rented cars to drive to your lodging for tonight.

The hotel restaurant isn’t taking orders anymore so you announce to the group that you and Jungkook are going to the convenience store across the street. Jimin, Namjoon, and Suhyeon join you, and you’re skipping out the lobby to get your snacks in no time. 

Jungkook tells you to be careful because the roads are slippery but you show-off your sliding skills that make you feel like you’re ice skating. He copies you and shows off, too, speeding his leg movements as he walks down an icier path.

But then he slips and falls to the ground, and you can’t help the way you laugh at his mishap. You can hear your other three friends laughing as they walk towards you, and Jungkook remains lying on the ground, laughing, too.

“You’re so clumsy,” you mock him, as it’s one of the things he says to you whenever you fall or hit something. 

“I was just trying to show you what not to do,” he makes a face before taking the hand you’ve reached out for him to take. “So don’t go skating and shit, okay? You might hurt yourself.”

“I won’t. I’m not a show-off nor a klutz,” you say and stick your tongue out.

He frowns at you then pulls you by your cheek to enter the store.

You, Jimin, and Jungkook stay together while you go around and drop various things in your basket that you think Taehyung and Mo-eum would like, too. You all get some chips, matcha cookies, chocolates, mini-cakes, instant ramen, beer... and about a dozen tuna mayo triangle kimbap because Jungkook is obsessed with them. You meet Namjoon and Suhyeon at the counter where they’ve filled their basket with a bunch of other things as well then head back to the hotel.

As is often the arrangement, the five of you share a suite while your seven other friends share one as well, and you make your way to the living room where all your purchases have been dumped on the table. 

Being that you barely had dinner and Jungkook’s stomach is a bottomless pit, both of you make ramen and get one rice ball each while the rest munch on snacks and dessert. Spread across the couch and the floor, you all hold up your beer cans and make a toast to this trip. 

Later that night, you watch the snow fall from the window as you sip the chamomile tea that Jungkook bought for you at the store. The city is beautiful at this hour and it feels cozy and romantic and exciting yet peaceful all at once. It’s a kind of feeling you’ve always wanted to experience, and now you know how a place can make you feel that way. 

Like all the times your mind has travelled somewhere, you suddenly wonder if it’s possible with a person. And if maybe, somewhere in this town, they’re right by their window, thinking the same thing, too.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm the next morning. For the brief moment right before you open your eyes, you feel that sense of relief over what turned out to be a really good sleep. 

Despite being knocked out the whole flight then eating and drinking late at night, you managed to get enough rest. You’ve truly switched off now. All you can think about are the sights you’ll see and food you’ll eat and all the time you’ll spend just walking through the snowy streets. 

The last time you all went to Japan, it was an action-packed trip. You went to amusement parks and went partying at night. This time, everyone decided on taking things slow. Sapporo’s perfect for that, and you suppose it’s what you all need.

Sitting up from the bed, you see that you’ve kicked your blanket off the edge while Mo-eum is cocooned under the sheets. You like the cold and you wish you had the aircon at a lower temperature, but your best friend freezes easily so you let the room stay warm. 

You tap her on the foot as an attempt to wake her up before heading out to the living area. The boys are in the other room and they seem to still be asleep. Wanting to see how the sun shines on the street outside, you pull open the curtains to let the light in and the way it does makes things look more enchanting.

But then a grunting sound disrupts your moment, prompting you to turn around.

It takes five seconds for you to notice Jungkook, who had camouflaged on the black couch with his black shirt and sweatpants and his arms behind his head. He seems to have slept there, as evidenced by the rearranged pillows and his half-lidded eyes gazing at you. The sun probably woke him up, so you apologize and try to close the curtains but he tells you it’s okay.

“Did you sleep here?” You ask, as you sit on the other end of where he is.

He groggily nods his yes.

“It was too hot in the room. Tae and Jimin had the aircon on fan mode.”

“Oh, that sucks,” you say. “Mo-eum had the temp high, too, and I ended up kicking my blanket on the floor. I like it cold.”

“Me, too,” Jungkook hums. “Good thing the couch is comfy.”

“You and Mo-eum can just switch places then,” you suggest. “The three warmies can stay in one room and you and I can enjoy a cold night.”

If Jungkook wasn’t awake five seconds ago, now he is. It’s not like he’s never shared a room with you before but with his little feelings recently, it might as well be the first time. He knows he can stay up with you just talking or saying nothing at all. You could also pass out and snore like crazy but then again, he wouldn’t mind that either. It’ll just be something new he’d tease you about, as if your snoring video that he shows to your friends isn’t enough.

“Sounds good,” he manages to say. 

Yawning as he stretches, he asks you what the itinerary is for the day.

“Do you not read the group chat?” You laugh at him. “The schedule is pinned on there.”

“Not really.”

“How do you ever know what’s going on, then?”

“I wait for Jimin or Tae to tell me when it’s about something important because they know I don’t check messages,” he shrugs. 

“You’re weird,” you playfully roll your eyes. “But anyway. We’re gonna have lunch, go to a beer museum, go to a mountain, check the–”

“You’re climbing?” He exclaims.

“We go by cable car, duh! Do you expect me to climb? In this weather?”

“You wouldn’t do it either way.”

“Excuse me, I climbed that mountain in Chungbuk,” you remind him.

“You mean I dragged you,” he chuckles. “And come on, ___. That wasn’t a mountain mountain. It was a short hike because we were already on the mountain. I just wanted to know if I had to drag your ass again or something.”

You make faces while he talks, prompting him to hit you with the small pillow.

“Yah!” You whine, hitting him back. 

Jungkook turns into a childish man when he’s challenged or provoked. He tends to be nonchalant about most things but you also know that he likes to play around and tease. He also likes to show off his athleticism and agility because now, as you try to hit him back again, he’s effectively dodging you while landing his pillow shots on your face.

“Kook, I’m gonna get your annoying ass,” you groan, grabbing the bigger pillow and then hitting him a little harder, knowing it’s not gonna affect him anyway. 

This dude is built like a brick. It just doesn’t seem like it because he’s always in loose clothes, but you know enough that not much hurts him. But you’re so into the pillow fight that he ends up lying down on the couch while you sit on top of him, your legs wrapped around his waist, and he’s there chuckling and blocking your hits. 

You take a rest, essentially giving him an opening. But instead of attacking, he turns to you and places his hands behind his head.

“Okay fine, I’ll let you make one last hit then we call it quits,” he says, challenging you.

You consider it, and as you act like you’re going to smack his face, you instead drop the pillow and make a tiny pinch on the sliver of his stomach that’s been exposed from all his movements. He yelps in pain and you manage to get off him in time, or else he would’ve easily wrestled you or turned you over.

He chases after you to the kitchen though, and you’re definitely not fast enough for the Jeon Jungkook. Before you know it, you’re getting pulled by your shirt and being tickled in your torso that you easily give up, facing him in submission then catching your breath.

“You’re such a brat,” he frowns. “That hurt.”

He slightly raises his shirt and discovers the red mark on his stomach that you caused.

You gasp in surprise; you didn’t realize you hurt him that bad. You pout then hug him - a reflex almost because this is how you apologize to your friends when you get a little too intense - and apologize.

“Nah, a hug won’t cut it,” he says, not returning the act.

You look up at him with sorry eyes.

“Coffee?”

“Nope.”

“A 6-pack in the beer museum later?” You sweetly smile, knowing that’s his weakness.

He gives in. “Deal.”

“Wow, that was easy,” you chuckle as you let go of him. 

“You leave a mark, you get me beer. It’s that simple,” he shrugs. 

“I bet it didn’t even really hurt,” you cock an eyebrow.

“___, it’s literally red. Look. It might even have a bit of your nail stuck in there.”

He pulls up his shirt again to show you the crescent on his abdomen and though you feel sorry, you also can’t help but tease.

“Show-off,” you stick your tongue out.

“Hey, I worked hard on that.”

“I’m sure, and they look great,” you flash a smile. 

“Kook, why are you giving ___ a private show this early in the morning?” Jimin says as he enters the kitchen. 

Jungkook tries not to look scandalized at the comment even if he knows it’s just his best friend’s way of teasing.

“She pinched me.”

“The tiny, painful kind?” Jimin asks.

“Yes. And I was just showing her the damage.”

Jimin turns to you with a disapproving look. “You’re a brat.”

“I said I was sorry,” you pout at Jungkook again. 

You look adorable and he can’t really be angry. 

“She’ll make it up to me with beer at least.”

“That’s not too bad,” Jimin laughs. “Just be her punching bag and you’ll end up with lots of free things.”

Jungkook chuckles in agreement and proceeds to boil water for coffee. It’s 10:30 AM and you’re set to meet the rest of your friends in an hour for lunch, so you munch on another triangle kimbap and some snacks then get dressed.

As you’re going down the stairs to the lobby, you slow down to walk with Jungkook and you turn to him.

“You’re not mad, right? I’m sorry again,” you say softly.

There’s an innocence in your eyes as you utter the words and Jungkook has to stop himself from engulfing you in a hug. 

It’s fondness, he convinces himself. It’s this tenderness that always cuts through at the end that gets him. You can be playful and rowdy and unforgiving sometimes but you’re affectionate and gentle and it catches him off guard. He doesn’t know why it’s never affected him like this before because he knows you’ve been like this to him before.

“I’m not,” he says, nudging your shoulder in assurance. “It’s stopped hurting and your nail marks will go away. You’re all good.”

“Good. We don’t want blemishes on those pretty abs,” you wink.  

He laughs in your wake. He hopes the fondness he feels for you stays. He also hopes that’s all there really is.

The ramen place you find for lunch is a tiny restaurant that manages to fit all of you. You and Taehyung moan in satisfaction at the richness of the broth, content with your weak people’s palette that can only handle the lowest level of spiciness, whereas Jimin next to you winces because he definitely didn’t expect his level 7 to be that hot. But still, he says it’s one of the most delicious things he’s ever eaten and you’d have to agree. 

The restaurant is buzzing in chatter and laughter because of all of you, especially when Gyu-rim calls out Jungkook’s bottomless pit of a stomach once again.

He ordered chashu don with his ramen but is on his second serving of the rice bowl after Suhyeon offered the one she couldn’t finish. 

“You know how normal people stop eating after they’re full?” He says. “I end up eating five more portions.”

“Oh, we know,” most of you answer in unison. 

“How good is it anyway?” You ask.

“Dude, it’s so good,” he moans, furrowing his brows; he tends to look angry when the food is delicious.

You open your mouth to signal that you want to try it and Jungkook prepares a spoonful for you. He’s about to hand it over but then you stand and lean over the table, so he feeds you and tips the spoon to make sure you get everything in your mouth.

It’s something he’s done with you lots of times before but this feels different. There’s that fuzzy feeling of doing this intimate act for you, even as a friend. 

Because it’s just that, he reminds himself - an act of affection towards a person dear to him.

You hum with a full mouth with how good it is and urge Mo-eum to try as well, so Jungkook feeds her, too - something completely normal that doesn't elicit any unusual warm feeling. But he can’t keep his eyes off you still chewing your food while asking for another spoonful with the ramen broth this time after he said it was even better together.

You lean over again and Yoongi tells you to just order your own. 

“We’re not in a rush. We can stay here for as long as you all want,” Hoseok - the one who keeps you all on track with schedules during your trips - says.

You smile in response then scurry to the ticket machine to order more. You’re served two bowls not long after, and you announce that you got another one so each person can try it at least once, starting with Jimin who gets two spoonfuls. 

You prepare one yourself and lean over to Jungkook to feed him this time. He’s caught off guard but he opens his mouth in time before you complain that he’s taking too long. Returning to your seat, you get another bite for yourself then another.

“Yah, I gave you two spoonfuls,” Jungkook reminds you.

“Get from the other bowl,” you frown at him. “That’s why I got two!”

He laughs, only wanting to rile you up, but he does finish what your friends couldn’t, and there he goes again with his unnecessary fifth portion.

Once you’ve finished, you head to a local park that’s covered in snow. Jimin immediately runs and dives on one of the mounds he sees and you follow, loving the pillowy ice almost as much as he does. Soon enough, Mo-eum, Jungkook, and Taehyung are next to you, lying down and making snow angels, all the while giggling like little kids.

Your seven older friends all stand around and watch with the softest smiles on their faces.

“This is why we came here, right?” Hoseok hums. “To watch them be like this?”

“It’s like I’m watching our grown up children,” Yoongi says.

“We’re two years apart,” Gyu-rim points out. “They’re not that young.”

“I don’t know. I kinda feel like they are,” Yoongi replies.

“You’re just old,” she counters, quietly laughing when the other man chuckles to himself.

It’s a struggle getting off the ground when it’s so soft and cold. But your jacket is also added weight and you’re scolding yourself for not being agile like your friends who can easily get up and then run further into the park.

“Kook, help me,” you plead with your legs bent to your sides and your one arm raised. “I can’t carry myself.”

Jungkook sighs but pulls you anyway. You pant as you try to walk towards the frozen pond and he teases by saying that you probably need a piggyback ride or something.

“Will you give me one?” You smile sweetly.

“Nope,” he smiles back, and you pout at him in return. 

He easily could, but Jungkook - normally - likes to tease you. He gives in most times, but he’s been trying to recall how he was prior to these possible feelings surfacing and he remembers that there were times when he turned you down or argued with you first before granting your request. 

He’s trying to balance it out for that sense of normalcy he wants to maintain. He can’t have anyone, especially you, suspecting him of treating you differently, even if deep down, he wants to give you that piggyback ride or hold your hand while dragging you all the way to the center of the park. 

But he goes with the latter. Similar to what he did during your hike months ago, he pulls you by the wrist until you reach the pond. 

He watches you look around in awe. He does the same while stealing glances and he hopes no one notices. He’s not really ready to explain himself to anyone about something he’s still trying to make sense of.

The hour flies by. You spend it just walking around and having mini snowball fights where you all ban Jungkook because he was making snow boulders and burying Jimin in them. You buy coffee from a park stall and finish it by the time you’re back in your cars.

You head to a Beer Museum after. The building itself is stunning and you spend time just admiring it. Inside, you explore Sapporo and Hokkaido’s history and take time reading and watching the information presented. Jungkook, of course, heads straight away to the tasting section and begins eyeing which drinks he wants to sample.

He loves beer, which is ironic for a PE teacher who teaches his students about healthy living but like he says, too much of something is what makes it unhealthy. Plus, there are doctors who have worse vices and so he gets a pass. 

And maybe he’s right. Jungkook has a high tolerance for many things and he knows when to stop but you also know he truly enjoys the taste, and not just the social aspect of drinking it. 

You’re still exploring, as you’re more interested in learning more than drinking, but most of your friends have already gone ahead, with only Suhyeon and Hoseok walking alongside you.

“Don’t forget that you promised me a six-pack,” Jungkook reminds you once you get to him.

“Why, what did you do?” Gyu-rim asks you, knowing that’s the only reason you’d agree to buy Jungkook something.

“She pinched me on the stomach this morning and it left a mark,” Jungkook narrates. “It hurt like hell.”

“Is that why you were showing your abs to ___ in the kitchen?” Taehyung asks. “I was half asleep but I saw you. I thought you were being kinky or something.”

“I said the same thing!” Jimin exclaims, causing your friends to laugh.

“Yah! I had to show her proof because she didn’t wanna believe me!” Jungkook defends. 

“Because you don’t even get hurt!” You answer back. 

“Wow, that’s deep,” Jimin hums. “And totally off-mark. Kook is a sensitive one.”

“Yeah, but his body isn’t,” you pout, knowing exactly what your best friend means. 

Jungkook laughs it off then returns to his beer tasting, claiming that he wants three cans of two different exclusive flavors. You agree and taste them at his insistence and decide to buy a variety of alcohol as well. 

It’s close to sunset when you finish, then you all head to Mt. Moiwa for some scenery. It’s a chilly and entertaining ride to the top, with Hoseok and Jimin going from amused to terrified in seconds, and you’re glad you decided to join their cable car instead of Jungkook and Mo-eum who’d probably be dancing around because they’re not really scared of anything.

As you expected, the view is pretty special. Everything is blanketed in snow and the city lights add that urban charm. You stay there until the sun has completely set before going to your final stop of the night - the Christmas Market. It’s something you’ve always wanted to experience, so all of you walk through the streets and look at every stall for something to buy or taste.

Jimin and Yoongi try some mulled wine and Namjoon buys some cute figurines. Seokjin and Hayoung buy something to commemorate their last overseas trip before getting married, and you and Suhyeon munch on a pretzel. 

And then there’s Jungkook - a gourmet sausage on one hand and a donut on the other. 

“Kook, we still have dinner. You know that, right?” Hoseok laughs from next to him, clearly amused at how his younger friend can still have an appetite. 

“Of course he does, that’s why he’s eating all this now so he has space for more later on,” Gyu-rim states. “Go on, Kook. Eat to your heart’s content.”

You stand next to Jungkook as you wait for Suhyeon who said she’ll order hot chocolate for you.

“Is it good?” You ask.

“Yup,” he mumbles. “Try some!”

Like always, you open your mouth and he feeds you the donut, prompting you to complain that sweets always go last. He just laughs at you and waits for you to finish chewing before letting you bite off his sausage.

“That’s good,” you hum, uncaring about the juice that drips on the side of your mouth.

“Yah,” Jungkook groans. He takes his napkin and wipes it off your face. “Are you a child?”

“You literally eat with sauce all over your face,” you call him out.

“And you’ve never wiped them off. Gee, thanks,” he counters.

“You’re an adult.”

“And so are you,” he chuckles while he continues to wipe you clean. 

You stand there, clad in a loose jacket and a beanie that makes you look adorable, and he can’t help but smile once again. You’re such a handful sometimes but he likes this. He likes giving in to your requests and watching you enjoy it and maybe cleaning up your mess, too. He likes seeing you appreciate the things that he does. He likes knowing you’re curious about what he’s up to and then sharing it with him.

He doesn’t recall ever caring this much but he’s down that slope of finding everything you do so captivating that he might as well smile every time you breathe.

Suddenly he feels silly, and he makes a face at you to mask whatever he’s feeling. 

You leave him once Suhyeon calls and Jungkook’s left there to shake his head and internally scold himself to get it together.

You return to the hotel, drop your things in your rooms, then head to the restaurant for dinner. It’s a spread of premium meat, hotpot that tastes like cabbage water, and some of the freshest seafood you’ve ever had. 

You jump in your seat in delight and Jungkook does the same. After all the bickering, you know that both of you love food so much even if he enjoys it because he knows how it’s supposed to taste, whereas for you, most things are just delicious. It’s just funny that you’re only realizing now that both of you react to things pretty much the same way.

You’re back in the suite by 10 PM, and the five of you take turns in the bathroom while the boys play a card game with push-ups as punishment for the loser while you and Mo-eum act as both penalty enforcer and cheerleader. 

The tiredness from the day slowly creeps in so you all retire to your rooms, upholding this morning’s agreement about who’s sleeping where. 

Jungkook lies down on Mo-eum’s bed and half wishes that he’ll fall asleep soon so that he doesn’t have to spend more of this time alone with you. The last time that happened, his heart was doing weird things and now that might just happen again.

He starts to slowly doze off when your voice wakes him up.

“Do you want to put on a face mask?”

“Uhm, okay,” he stupidly gives in easily.

You grab two packs and a mirror from your pouch then try to put the mask on properly. You turn to Jungkook who now kneels next to you, as if asking him to fix it. He shifts it a little before putting one on himself. He turns to you as well and you flatten the edges, making sure you spread the serum from his jaw down to his neck, completely unaware of how you’re affecting him.

For some reason, you decide to sit in the space between the beds so Jungkook follows suit. There’s not much distance between the both of you but this isn’t the first time. He supposes he’ll just keep doing what he’s been trying to do - try to act normal while also figuring out exactly what he feels without making it obvious that something has changed. 

“Today was good,” you hum. “I liked playing in the snow and walking around. And now it’s 12 AM but we’re not passed out. What a change from years ago.”

“Such a change,” he laughs, reminiscing about your post-university trips where you were finally earning money and spending it on shopping and partying. “Hong Kong was the worst.”

You and Jimin were drunk and entered the wrong hotel, and Jungkook was the one who looked for you and dragged your asses out of there before you fought the hotel staff for not letting you into your room.

You remember that night and smile behind your mask. “Oops.”

“So yeah, this trip is good,” he chuckles. “We just get to relax and do whatever we want and actually remember everything and you know, not end up fighting strangers and stuff.”

You laugh in response.

“I liked the park, too. And my free beer. Thanks again, ___.”

You’re reminded of your comment from earlier about him not getting hurt. It’s not that deep but given the conversations you’ve been having with him and the things you know that the others don’t, it may not have been the best thing to say.

“What I said when we were at the museum…” you start. “I know it might have a double meaning but you know what I meant.”

It takes a while for him to figure out what you’re referring to but when he does, he just shakes his head. 

“I know what you meant and it’s totally fine. I didn’t take it the wrong way.”

“But still, I’m sorry,” you mutter. 

“It’s okay. Why are you always apologizing though?”

“Because I… don’t wanna do or say anything that’ll hurt you,” you admit. “I mean duh, I don’t want to do that to any of my friends but with you, it’s different.”

Jungkook’s thankful that of all the times he agreed to put on a mask, it was tonight, because at least you can’t see the way his face falls at your statement.

Different? What does that mean? Surely it can’t mean the same different he feels towards you because you haven’t acted out of the ordinary with him at all. 

But you’re unpredictable sometimes and he doesn’t really know what to expect.

“What do you mean?” He manages to ask.

“Like… it’s simple and unproblematic. We bicker, we tease, we comfort each other… You’re there when I need you; I’m there when you need me, but we don’t need each other all the time. You get what I mean? We’re close but not–”

“Too close?” He finishes.

“Yeah, and it’s a good thing,” you clarify. “It’s not like with Jimin where we get on each other’s nerves all the time but we worry about the other just as much. But that’s always how we’ve been. And with Tae… I miss him so much when he’s away but I can’t tell him that because I don’t want him to worry. And he worries a lot and that affects him.”

“Tae does worry a lot about you. At one point I thought there was…”

“Something more?” You chuckle, and Jungkook nods in response.

It’s something he asked his friend years ago but Taehyung insisted there wasn’t anything.

“I pushed myself so hard in university. And when I worked there after graduation, I lost myself for a bit and Tae was just always there. I guess I became dependent on him as a friend to an extent,” you explain. “So a bit of that still lingers. I want to tell him things but not every little thing so he doesn’t worry. And Jimin’s like family and families fight sometimes. All of that said, you and I have always been… normal, for lack of a better term.”

Jungkook hums, as he tries to find the right words to say. But he gets it. It’s not like he was ever jealous about your closeness with Taehyung or Jimin; it was just a fact he accepted because it had always been like that. A big part of it was definitely because he had Joo-yun early on, and that kept him from developing a closer bond with you unlike his friends. 

And while he regretted the part where he could’ve gotten closer to you much earlier, he supposes maybe it wasn’t that bad. Like you said, what both of you share is simple and unproblematic. There are no expectations, no fights, no secrets.

Well, maybe now there is, and Jungkook is a little guilty for feeling things while you continue believing that everything between both of you is simple. He reminds himself there are no expectations on his end and that as far as he knows, he’s not fully acting on whatever he feels. He’s just… going with the flow.

He recalls that conversation at your apartment about both of you wishing you’d been better friends to each other back then. For him, it was about knowing your struggles and being there for you. Perhaps it was that distance that led to this kind of friendship you have now. He stops himself short of thinking that while this is normal, so is getting used to each other and developing feelings. You’re not a believer of friends turning into lovers so maybe your definition of normal is also different.

He wills his thoughts to stop forming right now, not when you’re in the middle of something pretty serious. He wants to assure you that he’ll keep that unspoken promise you made about being better friends to each other. On one hand, that could mean not crossing any line and keeping things simple, like you said. On the other hand, it might also mean just being honest and making you feel comfortable in being the same.

“I don’t want to do or say anything that’ll hurt you, too,” he finally says. “Tell me if I do, yeah?”

“I will,” you nod, and he can sense a smile behind the mask. “Can I be honest though? It’s hard to continue being serious when you look like that.”

He nudges your knee. “You’re the one who wanted to put this on!”

“I know, but then I got carried away,” you laugh, pulling the sheet mask off your face now and throwing it in the trash. “We’ve been having more deep conversations lately, Kook. It’s like we turned 28 and then poof, we became mature.”

“It doesn’t work that way but sure, ___,” he chuckles, clearing his face now, too. “I think experience does that. We realize what we want for ourselves and others, what we’re willing to tolerate, and what we want to focus our energy on. And we’re barely 30. We’re not even close to our peak.”

“So I’m gonna be even more mature?” You gasp. “Are you gonna be ready for that?”

“Okay, much as I’d like to tease you, you honestly don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re wise and mature and deep and shit, and not just because you’re an intellectual,” he clarifies. “You’re a smart person who also feels things, and I think maturity stems from that.”

“Hmm, I suppose,” you say, yawning as you crawl into bed. “But you’re a lot more mature than I am.”

“I’ll take that,” Jungkook smiles. 

He lies in bed and turns off the night light. There’s a beat of silence before your sleepy voice echoes in the room.

“Kook?”

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you for always making me feel better about myself. It means a lot.”

Your deep breathing follows and he supposes you’ve already fallen asleep. He wishes he’d said something right away but he couldn’t find the words, like always. 

He holds onto the fact that that was your last thought before you knocked out and he was at least awake to hear it. He’s sure you know he heard you and that should be enough.

You wake up much better the next day, given that the room temperature was what you wanted. You were curled under the covers with your feet warm from your socks, and there’s just something refreshing about feeling cold in the morning. 

It’s a much earlier call time today, as you’ll be taking a train to a nearby town. You all get ready, and you’re doing your makeup in the living room while you glance at Jungkook doing his morning skincare routine. 

You remember a time when Hayoung used to scold him for not wearing sunscreen despite spending all day outdoors. Eventually he developed that habit, including putting on toner and moisturizer. He has a headband on and it causes you to giggle. 

Even without trying, Jungkook looks adorable sometimes. His oversized tan hoodie swallows his body. The way his hair falls over his forehead and his large, bright eyes make him look like a boba ball. There’s something so endearing about him as he alternates between two pairs of sunglasses because he can’t figure out which to wear. 

“Second one,” you call out. “It settles cutely on your nose.”

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or…”

“I’m disappointed you’d even think I would ever insult your nose!” You gasp.

Walking towards him, you adjust the black jacket over his hoodie and fix his bangs.

“You’re so dramatic,” he chuckles, feeling his throat immediately dry up with you being so near him.

It’s another one of those normal things you do often that suddenly means more to him now. You’ve also always looked nice barefaced but when you’re made up and this close to him? He wonders if you’ve always been this pretty. 

“I mean it. This nose has super powers,” you say, pinching them out of reflex.

“And what does it do?”

“It keeps me from getting angry when I’m hungry. Too cute.”

“You’re so annoying,” he groans, as you laugh and yell out for your other friends to finish up.

They eventually do and you decide to separate from the older ones at least for today’s coffee run. You find a nice cafe and order some drinks and fluffy pancakes that’s perfect for this weather, and then you meet the rest in the train station for this morning’s little excursion.

The coastal train ride to Otaru, especially during winter, is apparently a must-do. And you agree, as you lean your head on Taehyung’s shoulder while the ocean comes into view. It’s so scenic, as the waves crash on the shore, just like that famous painting, and there’s that enchanting feeling once more in seeing the snow-covered town.

The 45-minute trip is spent looking at the views while talking to Mo-eum who sits in front of you, and occasionally taking photos of Jungkook and Jimin right behind you. You savor the simplicity of the experience and the fact that over a decade in, you still get to enjoy this with your friends. To remain this close and to have them so constant is a blessing, and something you don’t ever want to take for granted. 

You arrive in the port city and immediately fall in love with it. From the architecture to the historical mansions and quaint streets, it gives such a unique and warm vibe despite the icy winds and snowfall. 

You all decide to get hot drinks while you make your way to the frozen canal. There’s so much to see and just like yesterday, you take your time in taking in your surroundings, with the occasional snowball fight care of Jungkook at the expense of poor Jimin. It’s one of the few entertainment sources of the morning. There’s also making a Yoongi snowman and trying your butts at snow sledding using your puffer coats. The film cameras that Jungkook and Hoseok bring capture it all.

The group separates into two when you find a Music Box Museum that you want to explore while Jungkook and Yoongi choose a brewery to taste their season-exclusive drinks. Jimin and Gyu-rim join them so the rest of you head to the stunning building and look through thousands of music boxes and Christmas decorations. You reconvene after two hours and aren’t surprised when the other group brings back a few bottles of liquor that they said they wanted to try tonight.

You choose one of the dozen seafood restaurants on a popular street for lunch and you really can’t go wrong. This, for certain, is the freshest seafood you’ve ever had, and you spend the majority of your time eating just humming in satisfaction at everything you put in your mouth. And laughing, because while you admit to being dramatic sometimes, your friends overtake you in the eating department.

Because there’s Hoseok clapping after every new dish, there’s Jimin bowing his head down while moaning after every bite, there’s Gyu-rim cursing every five minutes, and then there’s Jungkook jumping in his seat and making the most bizarre hand gestures to express how delicious the food is. 

It was definitely an experience, and you’re glad that Taehyung insisted on doing this. 

You all walk back to the station to look at the other structures and to digest everything you ate. In less than an hour, you’re back in Sapporo and in your hotel room, needing the short break before the long drive to your next destination.

It’s hilarious Japanese reality TV shows and more convenience store snacks for an hour and a half in the living room before you leave late in the afternoon to head to another town. 

You decide to sit in the backseat with Taehyung and Mo-eum this time. If it were with any of the other two guys, there’ll definitely be a lot of smacking and pinching and you can’t afford to be violent during the drive. It’s peaceful enough, as you spend it just talking about random things and before you know it, you arrive at a restaurant for your yakiniku fix for dinner. 

The sun has set and you spend most of the ride with the windows down. The cold doesn’t seem to bother anyone and it’s just quiet - perhaps sentimental, too - until you reach your rented home for the next three days.

The place is stunning and you all thank Taehyung and Seokjin’s parents for covering your lodging because they said it’s been a while since you’ve been complete and you deserve the luxury this place brings. It’s something they often did and you suppose it’s just a rich family thing to do and you’re not one to complain. 

All four bedrooms are on the first floor and like always, the five of you younger ones take the biggest of them, which already has the mattress on the floor anyways that Taehyung calls dibs on. You climb up the stairs to the living and dining rooms and find a huge open space that’s perfect for all of you. It opens to an outdoor area that houses the hot tub and sauna.

You’re glad it’s a detached house. That way, you can laugh and stay up late as much as you want and it won’t bother anyone. You can’t wait to spend your nights here.

It’s just past 8 in the evening and Jimin suggests going for the hot tub and taking turns because not everyone’s gonna fit.

“Well, not everyone’s gonna dip,” Yoongi shrugs, as if you all don’t know he’s one of those people.

But he’s right. Seokjin, Hayoung, and Hoseok join him in being spectators as they sit on the table outside while the rest of you take a spot around the tub and take turns on entering it. 

You feel comfortable in your olive green bathing suit. Despite being out in the open, the heat from the water is enough to balance things out. There’s a spread of alcohol and other snacks that you pick from and like you expected, it’s a lot of laughter and reminiscing and discussing plans of future trips. 

You look at each of your friends, the people who have been with you for over a decade, and you think about all the years in between. You’ve all definitely matured. It’s not just in the wrinkles or the responsible alcohol consumption or the complaints about sore legs after today’s walking spree. 

It’s in the comfort of each other, the fulfilled promises of making time to be together despite the busy schedules and the distance. It’s in indulging what one person wants because doing anything as a group is the priority. It’s in the relief in your eyes knowing that at a time when people tend to lose sight of the important things, you’ve all made it a point not to lose each other. 

That brings you to another thought, something you voice out.

“We are such a good looking group of friends,” you state, almost out of nowhere. 

But really, from the camping trip that had you all looking a bit raggedy to this trip where you’ve been bunched up in thick clothes or with barely anything on, like right now, it’s something that just entered your mind.

“I’m surprised no one else decided to date each other apart from Seokjin and Hayoung,” you continue.

It’s not an uncommon topic amongst you. In fact, it’s one of those things you like teasing each other about, given all the history.

“Yoongi and Gyu-rim will. In 10 years,” Jimin states, and the people in question just shake their heads in response because this isn’t the first time and they’re unfortunately used to this. 

“Mo-eum and I have a pact that if we’re still single at 55, we’ll marry each other,” you announce.

“___, I was drunk when I agreed,” your best friend laughs.

“No taking it back. We pinky promised,” you glare at her.

“Yah! Both of you will surely find someone before then,” Taehyung exclaims.

“Well, it could’ve been you,” Mo-eum tells him.

A round of “oohs” echoes in the room, prompting her to smile sweetly and Taehyung to chuckle and say that’s probably true. 

It’s that kind of history you all like unearthing and resurfacing every once in a while. Come to think of it, it was over five years ago during your trip to Tokyo when your best friend revealed that she actually liked Taehyung during your junior year of college but she never had the guts to say anything, only for him to start liking her right after she got over it. 

The confession shook everyone because no one knew, even you. And knowing how your best friend is, it would’ve been something she was really shy or nervous about if she never told anyone. 

“Hoseok, care to top that?” Jimin teases now as he smirks at Suhyeon, who understandably splashes him with water. 

“No, I don’t,” Hoseok laughs. “Brat.”

“Well, that ship could’ve sailed if someone wasn’t such a coward about it,” Seokjin eyes him. 

Hoseok’s “what-if” with Suhyeon happened in real time, where everyone knew they had feelings for each other except for both of them. Despite all of you urging them to just make a move, one made a small step but the other was too scared to risk things and it didn’t fall through. 

Both of them now have partners outside of your friend group though, and they’re even better friends this time, something that Suhyeon points out.

“When you think about it, it’s really just about timing,” Namjoon reflects. “Whether it’s liking someone at a certain point or believing you’re ready enough to go for it, it’s about the other person being on the same boat - liking you at the same time and being ready when you are.”

“True. I mean, Hayoung and I luckily liked each other at the same time,” Seokjin nods.

“Liar. You had a crush on her the year before she admitted her feelings,” his younger brother calls him out.

“It was harmless!” Seokjin argues. “We went to a farm where the chickens chased her and she started running and yelling like crazy and I thought she looked adorable. It didn’t mean much until she couldn’t hold herself back from saying that she thought I was handsome.”

“It was still a crush,” Taehyung points out. 

“And it materialized a year later! That happens, too. Admiration or affection for someone doesn’t always mean it has to be something more right away,” the older man counters. “Sure, we could’ve dated much earlier if I’d said something but it also could’ve gone nowhere if I went for it right then. Or she could’ve rejected me. I didn’t wanna pressure her or make it feel like she had to return the feeling, which really was just a crush.”

“True,” Hayoung hums. “I probably would’ve thought he was unserious about it or I would’ve kept my distance because I didn’t feel anything then. Like Joon said, it’s about timing. Seokjin held out and thankfully, I got to him in time.”

“She ended up falling more in love with me so… it all worked out well,” Seokjin winks.

Everyone just laughs because you all know the truth - Seokjin is crazy about Hayoung. It’s a given that he’ll be the one bawling his eyes out during their wedding.

Jungkook laughs along as the teasing continues, thankful this time that given his history, people are a bit cautious of asking him about his thoughts when it comes to relationships. 

But his friends’ words linger in his mind, even as the conversation shifts to something new. 

Seokjin and Hayoung’s love story always seemed so simple to him - two friends who always got along well and one day realized they felt something more. Looking at how they are, it’s as if there’s really no one else made for them but each other. 

But of course, it’s never as simple as just confessing their feelings and being lucky that the other person felt the same way. It’s also about knowing what’s worth risking and when to do so. It’s about being ready to deal with the consequences, whether you’re taking a step back, forward, or staying right where you are. 

Like what Seokjin said, it isn’t always about being something more right away. Jungkook thinks that maybe feelings aren't something you just have; it’s something you settle into. 

The hours pass and Jungkook doesn’t notice them flying by. Between the conversations, the premier Japanese liquor and convenience store snacks, and lying on the snow by the edge of the deck then retreating to the hot tub, there’s a lot going on.

But he’s far from tired, and even if the temperature has dropped even lower, he still wants to stay out here and let his body relax.

The others have gone ahead to wash up and get ready for bed but there’s still you, Jimin, and Gyu-rim with him outside, talking about the latter’s non-existent but probable relationship with Yoongi. 

“You’re the most comfortable when you’re together and it’s the same with him,” Jimin points out. “That doesn’t happen overnight and it certainly doesn’t happen with just anyone. I’m just saying that it’s something to think about. Finding someone new isn’t the only option, you know?”

Gyu-rim, who surprisingly hasn’t smacked Jimin yet for all the years he’s been insisting on this, just chuckles in response. 

“I admire your commitment to this ship,” she concedes, knowing it’s better to just go along with the teasing than to react negatively. 

It’s Yoongi anyway and there’s nothing to feel negative about.

“Let’s just say that I have deep love for my friends and I want them to be with people who know how to love them, or would learn how to,” Jimin responds. “I’ll shut up about it after this but I just wanted to give you that nudge. I’ve learned my lesson with the two what-ifs in our group because we just all stood by.”

She argues that sometimes, standing by is the better option but that she’s also at that age where she just wants a companion. Jimin says that he knows that Yoongi does, too. 

Both of them eventually decide to retire for the night and you say you want to stay a little longer since you barely stayed in the tub. It’s just you and Jungkook now and with two people left, you take the chance to stretch your legs and submerge yourself in the hot water that you’ve slowly gotten used to. It even starts snowing and somehow that adds to your relaxation.

“So,” you turn to the man next to you who seems to be in awe of the snowfall as well. “You were quiet during all the relationship talk. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, his head leaned back but facing towards you. “I guess I’m like you when I’m with more mature people. I just listen.”

“And reflect?”

“A bit of that,” he hums, shifting his gaze towards the trees now.

With you in that bathing suit next to him, it’s just another version of you that he suddenly finds pretty.

“About what?” You ask. 

“Settling into feelings, I guess. How we don’t always need to act on them right away because they could be mild or fleeting or confusing or just… something that develops over time and that needs time for it to be right or enough. Or certain.”

You let his words linger. It’s something you definitely can’t relate with.

“Wow. I wish I knew that before my past relationships that failed because of my feelings that I immediately acted on,” you laugh, almost mockingly, at yourself.

“Acting on them isn’t always wrong, though. You shoot your shot when you can and you don’t always have time,” Jungkook tries to comfort you. “You could lose your chance completely.”

“That’s true but then like I said before, I get excited and impatient. Looking back, I guess I never really settled into my feelings for the people I liked because, well, it wasn’t something I thought about.”

“Me, too. It’s just something that got to me while listening to them earlier. Nothing too deep. I guess time and experience make you see and realize things that were always there but never really thought much about,” Jungkook states. “Suddenly they mean a lot more now.”

It’s the closest to being honest he could be with you about the thoughts he’s been having. Somehow this makes him feel better. He’s not lying to you or anything. He’s just settling into these newfound feelings for you. 

Maybe they are fleeting or mild or confusing. Maybe it just needs time to develop into something that could be right and good enough for you, if it ever gets to that point. 

Being with you right now, he’s trying to figure out what it is. It’s still a mix of everything but he’ll be patient this time. One thing is for sure though - he doesn’t want to scare you. If anything, he just wants to keep you close enough for a little while longer. 

As you both lie in your beds later in the night - you next to Mo-eum and him next to Jimin - there’s space in between that perhaps resembles where you both are right now. You’re both lying on your sides and you stick your tongue out at him as good night right before you turn the light off. 

He smiles to himself. It’s a good view from where he is.  

It’s a little chaotic in the morning as all 12 of you take turns in the three bathrooms to get ready. People are washing their faces and brushing their teeth next to and behind each other. The men are dressing up in the hallways and in the living room while the women are behind closed doors. 

And then there’s Hayoung and Suhyeon making sure there are enough water bottles for everyone and Hoseok who’s reminding you all about the proper outerwear and boots for today’s activity. 

Right as you’re dressed, you feel the energy surge through you. You haven’t gone skiing in years and you’re looking forward to trying it again this time. Everyone else seems to feel the same way, especially Jungkook who keeps mumbling that he’s excited and pretty much skipping all around the house.

You put your heavy coats in the trunk and head out for a fairly long drive. You call shotgun because you like getting a wider view of the snowy streets and everyone agrees because it’s you. Jungkook drives like always, insisting that he genuinely enjoys it.

You arrive at a rest stop shortly after, as you all decided to just get snacks from there for breakfast. You divide and conquer - Jungkook orders the food and you join him because you’re curious, while the rest get the drinks. 

Ordering at the ticket machine, you and Jungkook get excited about which snacks to get, even if you were confused about which buttons to press and when to pay. But you manage and buy a few flavors of the fried rice balls and croquettes then head back to the car. You start eating before Mo-eum and Taehyung return with the rest of the drinks and by the time Jungkook restarts the engine, he’s already devoured two of them.

He keeps both hands on the wheel and his eyes focused on the road while the rest of you munch on the food, humming in satisfaction and singing your praises. 

You see his gaze constantly flit to the rice cake you’re eating. You think he’s probably itching to have one right now but he doesn’t want to risk putting you all in danger so you take out a piece for him to eat. Knowing he’s wary of the drive, you feed him and cup your hand under his mouth in case a piece falls. 

“Hmm, that’s so good,” he moans, angling his head to the side for another bite.

You chuckle as he tries to get as much of it in his mouth so you appease him and say you’ll feed him so he can still eat them while they’re hot. He beams at you so endearingly and with his blue beanie and loose jacket on, he looks like a kid with his bunny smile and innocent doe-eyes. 

It’s a complete shift from last night where he was half naked in the tub, toned abs and tattooed arm on full display. Like boys do, he, Jimin, Taehyung, and even Namjoon were all showing off their biceps and posing ridiculously like bodybuilders, triggering a pose-off and tummy ache-inducing laughter from the rest of you. 

You can’t say it’s something that surprised you. Jungkook’s always been an athlete. You watched some of his swimming competitions when you were in college. You’ve also had dozens of beach trips. Toned bodies like what your friends have are normal to you and you’re often unbothered. They’re used to walking around without a shirt on and they have never felt shy around you; none of you girls ever felt bothered by it, either. 

But you’re still a woman with fully functioning eyes and can appreciate a pretty physique when you see one. Jungkook just happens to possess it and being in close proximity to him reminded you of that. It’s just a funny thing to remember seeing how he is now. There’s just something so charming about him that makes you smile.

You continue feeding yourself and him throughout the drive, with him losing it with the cheese croquette, his favorite one out of everything. You bring up his iced americano to his lips, too. It’s your way of thanking him, you tell yourself, as he’s been taking on the long drives like always. 

You finally make it to the ski resort and Jungkook skips all the way to the lobby. You all rent your accessories and equipment then head to the gondola all the way to the top. Despite the powdery snow, there’s still so much of it that it’s a struggle to even walk.

The view is stunning and the weather is cold and bright yet you already know you’re gonna suffer. But it’s the good kind. You’ll just brace through all the falls and face plants you’ll make but you’ll at least have fun.

It’s a group decision to snowboard first. As expected, there’s the group that can do it, and another that can definitely do better. The Kim brothers grew up doing this so their skills are not a surprise. Hayoung has done it a few times since dating Seokjin so she’s not bad at all. Namjoon is surprisingly good with his balance, Mo-eum is just good at anything sporty, and Jungkook obviously quickly relearned the ropes even though it's been years since the last time he’d done it.    

And then there’s Yoongi who settles with little hops down the mountain and Gyu-rim just laughing along as they semi slide all the way. There’s Suhyeon content with cheering you on despite constantly landing on her butt, Jimin who falls after every turn, and then you who falls right behind him. 

You’re just as tired at laughing at your mishaps than you are with all the face planting and swimming through snow you’ve both been doing. But you always end up turning on your back and marveling at your surroundings and the feel of the snow under you. At one point, you and Jimin almost give up.

You do manage two rounds down the slope while the others end up with a few more. You all rest at the cafe for a bit at Yoongi’s request and watch the few clips some of you managed to get of each other going down the mountain. 

Skiing is a lot more doable. It’s something you’ve done more than once so it’s not hard to relearn it. But with now-sore legs and overworked muscles from all the laughing and tensing up, it’s still definitely a lot more than you can handle. But you push through because it’s seriously a lot of fun. 

The snow is falling hard by the time you finish. Your hands feel frozen and your nose feels numb. Your legs and knees are definitely sore, and you feel the pain once you start going down the stairs. 

Hayoung, who overdid herself a little, climbs on Seokjin’s back. You whine because you’re in pain, too, but you don’t want to trouble any of your friends who might be just as tired.

Taehyung stands next to you and chuckles at your pouty face and your eyes that are focused on your cousin and his brother.

“Do you want a piggyback ride, too?” he asks.

You nod and give him your puppy eyes, waiting for him to offer you one.

“Okay. Kook!” he yells out behind him. “Our princess needs a ride.”

Jungkook looks at him questioningly then you. “What?”

Taehyung eyes the couple not far ahead and Jungkook takes the hint.

“Ah,” he says, looking at your tired form. “Your legs hurt?”

“I can’t feel them anymore,” you wail.

You’re so dramatic that it makes Jungkook chuckle, prompting you to weakly smack his arm. But he gives in this time, seeing how helpless you look.

“Fine. Jump,” he tells you, bending low to help you get on his back then gripping your thighs to keep you steady.

It’s not a long walk back to the car but it isn’t an easy one, so you constantly apologize in between your grumbles of being in pain. 

“I’ll pay for your drink at the whiskey museum tomorrow,” you promise him. 

“Tempting but you don’t have to,” he says. “It’s fine. Being your carriage is totally a normal thing.”

“Hey,” you cry out. “Please? I’ll treat you something.”

“Or you can just say thank you. Really, ___. You don’t have to pay me back for every good thing I do for you.” He slowly puts you down and turns to face you. “Just… stretch and relax. The hot tub will help so get on it later. And maybe don’t snore too loud tonight.”

You laugh at the last part because of course he’ll sneak that in even if it’s unrelated, but you agree.

Sitting at the back this time, you lean your head on Taehyung’s shoulder as you slowly doze off. He opens the window to let the cold air in to wake you up a little but you still fall asleep shortly after.

Jungkook glances at you from the rearview mirror. His heart did a thing again earlier when you had your arms around his neck, and then again when you sweetly smiled at him and said thank you before you entered the car. 

It’s a little different this time though as it feels more like floating. Looking at you peacefully napping, it continues to do just that.

The famous soup curry is famous for a reason. It’s rich despite the thin broth and the meat is soft and tender. It’s exactly what you need after this morning’s adventure and paired with the draft beer, it’s every bit satisfying. 

You gain a bit more energy after lunch, which you quickly expend during the car ride. Taehyung is the designated driver this time. Jungkook couldn’t resist the beer earlier, so you sit between him and Jimin and they alternate between teasing you mercilessly and cooing at you. 

You play the injured card, quickly clarifying that it’s your ego that's bruised after face planting so many times. Mo-eum from the front says everyone was laughing at Jimin and Yoongi more than they were laughing at you. They expected you’d fall but that the other two looked like adorable baby pandas who couldn’t get their shit together in the snow.

It’s mid-afternoon by the time you get home, which is where you’ll be staying for the rest of the day. Everyone picks their spot in the common room and you take your place on the large couch next to Hayoung. The Switch is turned on and a battle begins but you can barely keep up as not long after, you doze off.

Jungkook manages to win one game of Mario Kart before he heads out with Yoongi to buy what they’ll need for tonight’s dinner. It’s an hour later when they return and when they do, you’re still lying down on the same spot, softly snoring and getting some needed rest. He brings out the muscle spray he bought at the pharmacy and Jimin is the first one to take it. It’s passed around and when it’s returned to him, he briefly looks at you to check if you’re already awake.

You aren’t, even with the shrieking going on because of everyone’s epic fails on Fall Guys.  You have your hands together tucked under your cheek and your head laying on a pillow on Hayoung’s lap. There’s this urge to tease you about still being so tired but also to move your hair out of your face and caress your cheek.

He’s a little alarmed when you start opening your eyes, paranoid that he might’ve said something while fondly looking at you or if telepathy is actually real and you’d read what was going through his mind. But you mumble something instead and shift your body for a more comfortable position. He kneels down next to you and asks what you were saying.

“Did you beat Hoseok?” You mutter.

“Yeah, earlier,” he replies. “But I haven’t played since. Yoongi and I bought stuff at the supermarket. I got muscle spray for soreness, too.”

That piques your interest, as you open your eyes wider and ask where it is. 

“Jimin’s hogging it. Let me get it from him.”

He gets back to you with the bottle and you lift your pajama pants to expose your legs. Your puppy eyes tell him that you want him to do it for you. He chuckles but gets to it right away, gripping your foot and spraying the liquid on your limbs. You linger, and Jungkook instinctively sits down and lays your legs on his lap, gently massaging them. 

You moan in satisfaction and urge him to continue, earning you another chuckle. He works on your joints and your calves, knowing they just need to relax and that you’ll feel better soon enough. You’re lying on your back this time, but then Hayoung says she’ll go to the bathroom so you sit up and watch Jungkook work on your legs. 

“You would’ve been a good therapist if you chose that path instead of teaching,” you tell him.

“My dad said the same thing. I used to massage him after a long day of laboring when I was younger,” he laughs. “Glad I haven’t lost my touch.”

“You’re good. I approve.”

Your face contorts in pain when he kneads the tender parts and you try to move his hand towards a different area.

“But that’s where it hurts,” he insists. “I’ll go gentle, I promise.”

You let him, but your hand remains gingerly on top of his just in case. He keeps his word and goes easy on you. 

“Get in the hot tub later, yeah? That’ll help,” he advises.

You nod and instead of lying back down, you lean on his shoulder while he continues massaging you. You think you can fall back asleep with how this feels.

But then Gyu-rim suggests watching a horror movie because the last time you did that in the forest was so memorable that she wants to laugh at the scaredy-cats again. 

So Taehyung puts some Japanese thriller he finds on the shelf and dims the lights, resulting in 90 minutes of shrieks, curses, the occasional “I give up” from Hoseok, and the timely laughter from the horror enthusiasts. It’s quite the experience but it’s the perfect build up to dinner.

Yoongi lays out a spread of sushi and various salads for your appetizer while baking slabs of premium beef in the oven. Jungkook makes a Japanese pork offal and vegetable soup dish that sounds so perfect for tonight. Everyone else is busy drinking and eating while he’s glued next to the pot so you go to him.

He turns to you and eyes the plate of sushi you’re holding.

“Is it good?” He asks.

“So good. So fresh,” you hum. “Here, have some before they finish it all.”

You feed him some, an act that’s somehow become reflexive for you these past days, and he nods in approval. You get a few more pieces and alternate between feeding yourself and him.

The aroma of the broth wafts through your senses and you can’t wait to dip your rice in a bowl of all that goodness.

“Is it done yet?” you peek inside the pot.

“You wouldn’t know even if you tried,” he teases,

“Oh shush,” you nudge him. 

He laughs but he takes out a spoon, fills it with broth, then blows on it before feeding you. 

“Yup, my chef palette says that’s good.”

To his surprise, it is, and you make a claim that you’ve gotten better at this. 

It’s at the same time when Yoongi says that the meat is ready so you all gather at the dining table and have dinner. You finish with matcha tiramisu and cheesecake for dessert.

You start cleaning up with Namjoon and Taehyung while the rest of your friends either move back to the living room or head to the hot tub. You can hear them laughing and playing around outside, no doubt lying on the snow again or doing something silly, but you focus on your task then get dressed before heading out the deck.

You sit with Jimin and Suhyeon while the others take a rest. Just like last night, you alternate again so everyone gets a chance to take a dip. You end up staying a little longer, hoping the hot water will relax your muscles and get you feeling better for your last full day tomorrow. 

One-by-one, your friends leave the tub to wash up, as the temperature continues to drop. You’re left with Jungkook once again and he sits next to you, both of your heads rolled back, and the sounds of the wind and bubbling water filling the space.

“Feel better?” He asks.

“Yup. I wanna stay here longer but I don’t wanna stay up too late and I still wanna drink,” you say, somehow feeling like the day is too short for you to do everything you want, even if you’ve done so much already.

“We can stay for a couple more minutes. Being here for too long isn’t good, anyway.”

“Fine,” you agree. “But today was a good one. Thanks for my massage.”

“What have I not done for you at this point?” He laughs. 

“I’m a spoiled brat, aren’t I?” You call yourself out. 

“A little bit,” he playfully shakes his head. 

“Well, thanks for putting up with me,” you mumble, and he assures you that it’s not as bad as you make it sound.

Namjoon, Yoongi, and Gyu-rim go out to drink at the picnic table on the other end of the deck and they raise their glasses to you in acknowledgement, warning you of Jimin possibly finishing off the sake if you don’t stop him.

You say you’ll wash up soon but remain on your spot, occasionally stretching your legs, until you return your focus to Jungkook and shift to face him. 

With his whole lower body submerged in the water and only his neck and his damp hair on the surface, he doesn’t look as intimidating so you start playing around with his hair and attempt to tie a ponytail at the top, resembling a sprout. He grumbles under his breath but he doesn’t say a word. He just closes his eyes and lets you do what you want.

For Jungkook, an attempt to stop you would be futile. That would entail fighting you off and getting a little too close in such a small space, which again would be deemed normal if it wasn’t for his growing fondness for you. He tries to just watch what you’re doing but given your proximity, he thinks that closing his eyes would be better for his stupid heart.

“Ooh, you’re letting me tie your hair,” you point out. “That’s new.”

“I’d have to pry you away for you to stop and I don’t want you falling out of this tub or something,” he reasons.

“Hmm, you have a point.”

You giggle when you finish, and it’s at the same time that Taehyung appears behind the glass door and waves. He spots Jungkook’s sprout and starts laughing, too. Opening the door, he coos at his friend and pulls up his phone to take a photo.

You immediately scoot closer to Jungkook and pose multiple times before your friend gives a thumbs up sign and walks back inside the house. You can see the rest of them still in the dining room, looking like they’re playing card games and downing the remaining bottles of alcohol you’ve all been buying since you arrived.

Jungkook stands up from the tub and turns to the door to see what he looks like through his reflection. He frowns at you in response.

“Okay, sprout off,” you say once he sits on the ledge. “It doesn’t fit the muscle bunny Jungkook vibe.”

“What?”

“Your hair has to match your body. It looked fine when you were submerged in the water,” you reason, pulling the hair tie off him. “Now with these muscles and these abs and this tattoo sleeve, it’s a mismatch.”

“How is it that you analyze even these things?” He questions.

“It’s my brain. It just does.”

He descends back down once the cold air becomes too much and you’re just there, so close yet so far like many times before. There’s that urge to get even closer and just examine your face, now that he’s looking at you in a new light. 

Settling in the feeling, he reasons to himself. Figuring out if it’s fleeting or something more. 

He repeats the words in his head as he watches you flounder in the tub. You move to the end near the railing and the snow lightly falls on your head. It almost feels romantic, as you sit there with a soft look on your face and a sweet smile as you let the snow touch your skin. 

But with you, unpredictability is a thing. Before he knows it, you’re scooting back close to him. You lift his right arm from under the water and start pointing out the tattoos that you think are new.

“I just had them colored. Some were redone,” he explains.

“Ahh,” you reply, wiping off the droplets on some areas so you can see them better, unknowing of the shivers you’re causing. “So do you just wear a jacket every time you’re at the school?”

“Pretty much,” he hums. “When it’s hot, I wear a shirt and then an arm sleeve to cover it up. Thankfully they weren’t too strict about it, although I was almost not accepted because of it. I just made up some story that I was trying to be cool in college so I got them but I straightened myself out and wanted a fresh start so I became a teacher.”

“Wow what a liar,” you respond. “You were getting new ones even after you got the job.”

“I know. But they don’t know that,” he laughs.

“I think it looks cool on you.”

“You called it a muscle bunny vibe,” he deadpans.

“It’s because you have an adorable bunny face but your body’s ripped. Bunnies are fluffy, chunky babies. They have puffy cheeks. They don’t have abs.”

“They could. If they exercised.”

His comment sounds ridiculous and it makes you laugh, as an image of a bunny doing crunches flashes in your mind. You think he imagines that, too, as he laughs right after. It’s a silly thing but it’s one of many things that you talk to Jungkook about. One evening you’re reflecting about feelings and relationships and the next, you’re picturing bunnies exercising. 

“Yah, you two,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through your muffled laughter. “It’s getting too cold. You might get sick. Wash up soon.”

“We will already, uncle,” you grin at him. 

You stand up and slowly make your way to the steps but Namjoon tells you to stop so Jungkook can help you down and avoid a probable accident. So he does, walking ahead of you then down the stairs before you take his hand and follow him. 

Your room is still empty when you get your clothes. When you return after your bath, Mo-eum and Taehyung are on your bed, watching something on the laptop. Clearly yesterday’s conversation about their history didn’t change anything between them, as they’re as comfortable next to each other as they’ve always been. 

There are still a few people at the dining table when you go there for a few drinks. You get the sake before Jimin finishes the bottle and you drink it and then some. 

One-by-one, they start to retire for the night. You have a glass of beer that you want to keep drinking whereas Jungkook lost to rock-paper-scissors so he’s finishing the cup of mixed alcohol as penalty, so you both stay behind.

You tell him that he can throw it down the drain and you can keep it a secret but he honors the rock-paper-scissors code, he insists, so he’ll finish it off.

Keeping each other company has become a pattern for both of you recently, but you suppose it’s just the timing of everything. He moved into an apartment his cousin owns that’s closer to his school last year; it also happens to be 15 minutes away from you. 

Both of you aren’t in relationships so it’s easier to hang out. Plus, you committed yourself to maintaining a work-life balance after you suffered burnout some months ago, and that’s meant switching off during the weekends and being a lot… calmer, you think. Probably less erratic and maybe more bearable.

All of those circumstances just happened to take place around the time Taehyung came home and commenced his role of being the trip planner. Before then, you and Jungkook were either in a relationship or neck-deep into your job or both. 

You were definitely a different person back then and you suppose he was, too. Now, you get to spend time together and just enjoy each other’s presence, something you always have but something you get to experience differently this time. 

And it’s a good feeling, something that you don’t express out loud. Not that you think he’ll judge you or anything but only because somehow, you think he’s thinking the same thing. 

You do your final cheers then clean up before brushing your teeth and heading to your room, ready to finally rest.

Except when you get there, you find Jimin sprawled on the mattress on the floor this time with the phone on his face, no doubt having fallen asleep while playing his games. Mo-eum and Taehyung are fetus-curled on either side of your bed, softly snoring. 

That leaves one bed for you and Jungkook, and the realization that this has never happened before hits you. Not that it’s uncomfortable; it’s just that you’ve always been closer to the other guys and he’s always been closer to Mo-eum. Still, you don’t mind but he seems like he does.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he mumbles.

“It’s soft but not as soft as this bed. We can just stay here. You need proper sleep and this is big enough for both of us,” you insist. “Is that okay with you? I mean, I’ve slept next to the guys before.”

“Yeah, and you’ve either elbowed or kicked each one of them. More than once,” he reminds you.

“Is that why you don’t want to sleep here?” You ask worriedly.

He hates it but Jungkook half-lies.

“Yup.”

You think about it for a second but still insist. He’s already slept on the couch in the other hotel and you don’t want him to do that again.

“Nah, you’re strong. You can handle me,” you wink.

“Fine,” he grumbles, mockingly laughing at himself for giving in so easily once again.

“Don’t worry, there’ll be a pillow between us,” you assure him.

“Yeah, whatever. By the way, they left the blinds open. You don’t like the light, right?”

“Hmm, I usually don’t and I know you don’t, too, but uh… Can we leave it up? I wanna fall asleep and wake up to that sight,” you say, gesturing towards the snow-covered branches of the trees right outside the window.

“Sure.”

Jungkook climbs in bed next to you with the pillow in the middle, even if he knows you’ll hog that, too, because apparently, you like hugging something when you sleep. 

You’re on your side with your eyes glued to the window and he lays on his side as well, facing you.

“I’ve been so enchanted by this city and how the snow covers everything,” you whisper, no doubt being sentimental at this time. “I just want to ingrain the image of this place in my mind as much as I can. Jimin got me so fascinated with snow. I used to not care much about it.”

“I’ll get you a snowglobe in one of the shops tomorrow then,” he smiles. “That might help.”

“It will,” you groggily smile back. “You’re so sweet, Kook. I’m glad we–”

And just like that, you’ve fallen asleep.

It’s fitting how the night ends, he thinks. There’s a short distance separating both of you but so many years and memories in between. You’ve always been there just as the snow has always been around, yet it takes something, or someone - perhaps a moment - to make him look at things in a different light.

Has it always been like this? Have you always been like that? What was it these past months that made the difference? 

He’s unsure but he doesn’t want to overthink. Just like you, he wants to ingrain this in his mind as much as he can. He’ll deal with whatever comes after when it comes.

The first sliver of light cuts through your eyelids and you curl yourself closer to the pillow to hide your face. It works only a little, and you mentally curse yourself for leaving the blinds up. No one else seems bothered because no one’s put them down yet. It would’ve been Jungkook but you suppose he’s too exhausted.

You turn to your side and find his tattooed arm over his eyes and you kind of feel bad. So you get up and walk towards the window, marvel at the trees for a few seconds, then pull down the blinds. You return to bed and go back to sleep, knowing you’ll see it again later on. And tomorrow, too, for the last time.

You wake up two hours later to Jungkook saying that the guys have made breakfast. You stretch your legs and ask him if he can put on the muscle spray again even if you’re feeling a little better. He does, and you smile when he briefly massages your calves before he pulls you up from the bed.

Everyone else has gone up so you head to the dining table and find a spread of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausages, toast, and pastries. Hayoung and Gyu-rim apparently watched a cooking show this morning and immediately craved a Western breakfast, so Yoongi and Seokjin went to the supermarket to grab ingredients and cooked them. 

It smells amazing, and you hum in delight at how good it is. It feels so foreign yet it tastes like comfort. 

There’s no rush in spending your last full day. You drive to explore a quaint town then hang out at a cafe to play with cats and drink coffee. You go to a whiskey museum and laugh at Jungkook and Jimin doing some role play by the bar. 

You try some samplers and end up getting Jungkook one of the bottles he chose not to get because he’s used up all his alcohol budget for this trip. You give it as a surprise while walking back to the car.

“___, I told you you didn’t need to get me anymore,” he groans.

“Yeah but.. You carried me, you've been massaging me… And you’re gonna drive me home tomorrow,” you say.

“So what, should I expect you to get me something every time I do something for you?”

“Uh… no.”

“Exactly, so there’s no need to.”

“Too bad, it’s already paid for,” you shrug. “Plus, you looked so sad when you had to give it up. You were pouting your lips and pep talking yourself into accepting that you weren’t gonna get it.”

“I’m also an adult who’ll get over it,” he points out.

“Well, just think of it as a birthday or Christmas gift or something.”

“You’ve never gotten me either of those,” he deadpans.

“Exactly! So here,” you chirp, placing the bottle in his hand. “Belated happy birthday and advanced Merry Christmas.”

He laughs at your persistence but accepts that this is how you are. Again, it’s the tenderness of your personality that he’s been experiencing these past few weeks that builds on the fondness, that makes him enjoy being around you.

“Fine. Thank you,” he finally smiles and accepts. 

Not long after, you go to a street lined with local shops. That’s where Jungkook finds you a snowglobe of this town. He gets you another one of a tree with a deer next to it. He’s also never gotten you a gift so he says it’s for all the years that he missed out on. 

Later in the night, after having dinner at a hotpot place and spending the rest of it reminiscing about the trip over tea and milk, you lay on your side next to Mo-eum, as you’ve returned to your original sleeping arrangements. You place both snowglobes on the night table next to you, as if in replacement of the view from your window. 

“Careful, you might hit and break them,” Jungkook warns from not far away.

“I think my body can only recognize body parts when it’s hitting something,” you laugh. “But don’t worry, they’ll be safe.”

“They better. They’re your reminder of this place.”

“Well, years from now when I still feel my sore joints, I’ll be reminded of Sapporo,” you laugh. 

Jungkook laughs, too, and thinks that while you’ll have those as a reminder, he has this other than the bottle of whiskey you got him - this view of you smiling at him as you fall asleep.

Even if you remain as friends, years from now he’ll think of this trip and how you made it enchanting for him with the moments, the silence, and all your unspoken words.

You leave Sapporo the next afternoon.

It’s quite a drive to the airport and you savor the scenery as you pass the snow-covered mountains and frozen lakes for the last time. 

You sit next to Jungkook again on the flight home, with your head leaned on his shoulder while you both look at the photos in the shared photo album. He drops you off at your apartment after you all have dinner at a restaurant and the entire drive had you laughing and teasing each other, same as how you spent the entire trip.

He helps you unload your luggage and walks it up to the entrance to your apartment building.

The snow starts falling at this time and you ruffle Jungkook’s hair and call him out for not wearing his beanie.

“I’ll live,” he laughs.

You just smile in response, thankful that you spent the past week making new memories with this man you feel you don’t have enough of. It’s weird how a trip can do that - make you experience someone you’ve known for a decade as if for the first time. 

But you suppose life is like that. We focus on certain things at certain points of our lives depending on who and where we are at that time. We rediscover people and feelings and friendships and maybe that’s what living means. Those that remain are the ones that matter.

“Enjoy the holidays, okay? And have a safe trip home tomorrow,” he says.

You’re riding with Hayoung to Gwangju in the morning and Jungkook’s driving to Busan with Jimin in the afternoon. 

“And don’t hurt yourself. Your legs are still a bit sore,” he reminds you.

“I’ll be alright,” you say confidently. 

He chuckles and heads back to his car. You wave him goodbye for the last time then head to your apartment.

Five minutes later, you text him.

[To: bunny kook] I stubbed my toe on the couch 🙁

He laughs out loud and decides to call you. You don’t need him to come back, you say, but you wail that you miss him already.

He knows what you mean but it doesn’t stop his heart from doing that thing again. He ends up talking to you on the phone throughout his drive and while you’re both unpacking and then packing again for your respective trips. 

You hang up first and Jungkook already dreads what these next few weeks of being away from you would mean.

Settling into the feeling could mean accepting that proximity is the biggest factor and that being physically apart is what’ll make him get back to how things used to be. He could also be convinced it wasn’t much anyway. 

It could mean settling into the idea that both of you have changed over the years and have truly committed to just being better friends for each other. 

Or it could mean that there really is something more, and he’s gonna have to figure out how to live with that, whether or not you feel the same way.

 Series Masterlist

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[scarletmika]

Always : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

PART TWO OF Stay With Me : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds/Sentry x Ex-Widow!Reader

Summary: Bob stayed with you, just as you asked, and life couldn't be better. But the past always has a way of catching up with you, no matter how hard you try and push it away and leave it behind. Now, it's Bob's turn to save you.

Warnings: fluff, angst, idiots in love, violence, death, gore, mental health talk, language, SPOILERS I guess for Thunderbolts*, Bob maybe SLIGHTLY OOC (he's making progress)

Word Count: 5,269 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here A/N: @violentrayof-sunshine you requested a part two, and who was I to say no!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

The team was sick of you and Bob, and it had only been 2 months since they’d broken into that room of rubble and fire to find the pair of you crying and wrapped in one another's arms. It wasn’t that they were sick of seeing you two together and being together so much as the added level of affection at any time of the day had John and Ava in agreement over wanting to hurl at every corner.

You both refused to talk about what had happened in that room after the bomb had exploded, choosing to keep it to yourselves so as not to worry the team. But whatever it is that had happened had changed the nature of your relationship with Bob forever, and the team was honestly thankful that it had finally happened. What they didn’t like was that Alexei got closest to guessing when you’d finally end up together, winning their entire pot of money they’d gambled months ago when they’d moved into the tower on that nature of your relationship.

Yelena saw it before anyone else did. It was almost instantaneous after they’d come back to the Watchtower from the mission, the way that Bob wouldn’t leave your side, and you didn’t seem to be pushing him away anytime soon. It wasn’t shocking, seeing you both together, but the sly hand holding under the tables didn’t go unnoticed by Yelena, and she couldn’t help but feel at peace knowing you both had found one another. You’d lived a hard life, she knew it best as she’d been there for all of it. Knowing you’d found someone you so clearly loved gave her peace.

It began that first full night back after the mission. You’d finished reports with the team, debriefing on what had happened but holding back the details of what went down in the control room. The sun had finally set, moonlight streaming through the windows of your room and highlighting the outline of New York City before you as you laid in bed. The ache in your bones was present now, more so than it was before, and you were already mentally preparing to tell Bucky that you were sitting out the next mission in favor of letting the feel of the explosion leave your bones. A soft knock on your bedroom door interrupted you as you slowly drifted in and out of consciousness, barely there. You didn’t hesitate to tell whoever it was to come in.

“I’m sorry…you’re usually up late so uh, I didn’t think you’d be asleep,”

The sound of Bob’s voice, still laced with hesitation after what had happened just hours before, brought a smile to your face. You turned your back on the windows, leaving the city behind you as you faced him instead.

“Just sore and tired from the mission, and the paperwork,” you joked lightly with him, voice like a whisper in the quiet of the bedroom. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Bob hesitated for a moment, seeming to be dancing on the line of entering flight mode. He looked back at you, at the serene and calm look on your face before choosing to shut the door behind him, wringing his hands together as he took another step toward you.

“I…I didn’t want to be alone,”

“Then come here,”

There was no hesitation from you, so for once, there was no hesitation in Bob’s own actions. He crossed the room in a second, slowly and cautiously maneuvering himself down onto your own bed as you lifted the comforter for him, allowing him to climb in and rest his head on the pillow opposite of yours. You tucked the comforter back overtop of him, fingers gentle as they glided lightly back up his now covered arm, hand moving itself up to his cheek as you cupped it. He leaned into the touch as if on instinct, eyes never leaving yours.

“Hi,”

“Hi,”

“Nightmares?” you guessed in a hushed tone, and Bob nodded slightly, not trusting himself to truly answer with his own voice. Your thumb caressed his cheek, rubbing comfortably up and down the skin. “I get them too.”

“I wish they’d stop,” he whispered back, unable to look away from you. “Sometimes it’s uh, it’s dad. The screaming, the fights…the hitting. There’s uh, moments from when I was…still doing drugs. The vault too…I-I’m scared this time I’ll see…earlier.”

Sometimes, Bob did a good job of hiding how he was feeling. Around you, from the very first meeting, he was terrible at it. You could see it clear as day in his eyes, the terror in them and the slight tremor in his bottom lip as he spoke, the shaking of his hand underneath the covers.

You retracted your hand, not missing the way he chased after the grounding feeling of your skin on his. You took his hand instead in your own, bringing it to you chest and placing it over your heart. You held him there, both of you listening to the feeling of it beating in your chest, pumping blood through your entire body.

“I’m here, and that’s because of you. You came back from the edge,” he nodded very slightly at your words as you gave him a comforting smile in return. “The nightmares will always be there, they never leave. But they’re nothing but bad dreams, they aren’t reality.”

Bob’s eyes followed your intertwined hands, locking onto them for a moment as he listened to the steady beat of your heart once again.

“...how do you deal with yours?”

“I wake up,” it brought a very small huff of a laugh from him, which was all that mattered. You gave his hand a squeeze, bringing his eyes back up to you. “You tell yourself they’re just bad dreams, and then you push them away. They can’t hurt you unless you let them.”

There was a beat of silence in the room once again, a question hanging off of Bob’s lips as his eyes flickered between yours and your lips, the flush that had appeared on his cheeks still obvious within the darkness of the room.

“...can uh, can I kiss you?”

Taking his hand still in yours, you brought it up to your own cheek, laying it there with a grin.

“From this moment on, you never have to ask again,”

There was no hesitation from Bob the second he had your consent, pulling ou to him and slotting his lips against yours. His movements were slight, cautious, but firm. The tremble in his lips was still there as you pressed back just as firmly to him, moving against him just as you had hours before as his hand managed to slip to the nape of your neck.

From that night on, neither of you ever slept alone again.

Bucky and Yelena were the first to know, having gone to wake you up for an early training one day, but instead opening the door to you and Bob tangled together in a mess of limbs as you slept. It wasn’t long until Alexei was celebrating upstairs over the news.

Bob’s bedroom soon became simply storage for his things, finding himself on the other side of your bed every single night. Curled around you with your back to his chest, his head resting against your collarbone, you name it and he’d fall asleep in any position possible as long as he was with you.

He thought the world of you. But it wouldn’t be long until he realized that you were never as “okay” as you seemed to portray yourself as. Sleeping together seemed to keep Bob’s nightmares at a bare minimum, but it hadn’t done much to stop yours.

Bob could still remember the first night he’d shot awake to your own screams. You were sweating profusely, heat essentially rolling off of your body. Bob scrambled under the covers, sitting up beside you as you ran your hands down his face, trying desperately to calm your breathing as you glanced at Bob quickly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you,” your breathing was still heavy, your heart beating out of your chest. “It was just a bad dream, I’m sorry.”

“...was it her?”

As awkward as Bob could be around others, he’d found a way to read you like a book in certain moments together, and now was one of them. The Mistress, the same woman from that day in your own personal shame room of hell, of course Bob knew it was her.

“She…wasn’t just a teacher in The Red Room. She was my mother,” you paused your own explanation, mulling over your words. “Well, as much of a mother to me as Alexei really was a father to Yelena and Natasha back then. At least he cared for them. Yelena got peewee soccer teams, got to go to school…I got hit, thrown around the room…she ruined my life in every way possible. Sometimes it’s hard to keep her out of my head.”

There was another beat of silence in the room, before Bob’s hand cautiously found yours. He threaded his own fingers through yours, giving your hand the lightest of squeezes in what he hoped was comfort. He’d grown used to receiving comfort from you and the others, but giving it himself wasn’t something he was used to.

“In the vault, Yelena tried to tell me that uh, that you just have to take that darkness and…push it down. It was…it was uh, you when you came into the Void that told me I couldn’t do that. Being with you, being around you…it helps me. I lean on you a lot, I know I do…y-you can lean on me too,”

No other words were spoken that night as Bob laid back down on his back and you slotted yourself into his side, head laid on his chest and letting the beat of his heart and the heat his body emitted lull you back into sleep.

For awhile, you never spoke of it again. The nightmares seemed to slow every night you and Bob spent wrapped up together, and you smiled around the team just as you typically did. On the outside to most, you were perfectly fine, but Bob could see through it. You were masking your thoughts and your pain, just as he always had. But you never pushed him to talk about things with you, so he didn’t push you to talk to him either about those dark thoughts that floated around your head.

Life moved on in the tower. Missions were run, dinners together were had, occasional movie nights even made their way onto the docket every week, once again courtesy of Alexei.

The first time the Red Guardian had managed to wrangle you all together in a shared space for a movie had been…chaotic. John and Ava argued over who could sit where, Yelena tried to convince her father that “old home movies of the glory days” did not constitute a movie night with the team, and Bucky shook his head quietly from the couch like a disapproving father.

One of the couches was already claimed by you and Bob. You’d slotted yourself into the corner by the armrest while Bob had found himself laid out across the cushions, his head finding it’s place in your lap as your fingers gently combed their way through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp as he closed his eyes and leaned into the feeling.

“You look like you’re going to fall asleep down there,” your voice opened his eyes once again as he looked up at your grinning face, the noise beyond you two from your friends drowned out in the moment. “Careful, fall asleep during Alexei’s movie night and you might not hear the end of it.”

“I-it’s your fault,” he mumbled back in the moment, cheeks flushing. “Your hands…they feel nice.”

That familiar four letter word was hanging in the back of your throat as you looked down at him, practically dying to crawl out of you the longer you looked at him. Instead of saying it, you leaned in, placing the gentlest of kisses on his lips, before pulling back with a smile at the awestruck look that had crossed his face in the moments after.

“God, Alexei, you’ve taken so long to pick a movie the lovebirds have already checked out!”

“Ah ah ah! Don’t be so harsh on young love, Winter Soldier! Two very strong, capable heroes these two are, I think they are perfect together. Imagine the super babies that could be had-”

“ALEXEI!”

Bob could still remember your laughter that night as the entire team yelled at the Russian super soldier, the carefree smile on your lips. He wished that smile would never leave your face, no matter what.

He loved your smile most in the moments where you were alone, though. Laying on the common room couch together, one of your heads lying in the other’s lap as one of you had your nose buried in a book. Or the moments he watched you flit around the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you made something for the two of you to eat.

Bob loved you. He’d known it for awhile, even when he was so broken he didn’t believe he could be loved, or even give it. He felt loved by you, cared for, and he knew he loved you.

It’s because he loved you that he could clearly see that you were struggling inside. You’d never blame him, but that day in that HYDRA control room had done irreparable damage to you mentally, and he could almost see you beginning to come undone.

He saw it most when he watched you spar with Bucky or Yelena in the training room. He’d kept up with practicing control of his powers, but physical hand-to-hand combat was something he shied away from. That never stopped him from watching you, though.

Yelena ducked from the swing of your leg, sliding between your legs before landing a kick to the back of your knee. With a hiss of pain you dropped to your own knees, throwing a leg back and launching it into Yelena’s shoulder, giving you time to spin around and face her again as she bounced back to her own two feet.

Bob sat quietly in the corner, legs crossed under him as he wrung his hands together for something to do in his lap, just silently watching the two former Widows go hand to hand.

You made a lunge at Yelena, trying to knock her feet off the ground, but slipped, missing. Yelena took advantage, landing a swift punch to your jaw. You flew to your stomach, catching yourself with your hands on the ground as your jaw tightened from the pain.

“Sloppy, but you knew that. Come on, that mistake would’ve gotten you killed back in the room,”

Even Bob flinched at the comment, knowing what he knew about your past, having witnessed your greatest mistake with his own two eyes. Maybe Yelena couldn’t see it, but Bob did. The way your shoulders immediately tensed from across the room, how your entire body seemed to react to that statement, the memories you were probably enduring.

He knew the feeling of falling apart at the seams, having done it enough himself. He could see it happening to you right before his eyes, even if others didn’t notice, but he had no idea how a broken man like him could help the woman he loved.

Then, the mission came in.

“Intel suggests the base is held somewhere deep on the outskirts of Мирный, in the heart of Russia…” Bucky paused his explanation of the mission as the digital map behind him zoomed in on the coordinates outlined in the packet before him. His gaze flicked to Alexei for a second, before settling on the two former widows sat at the other end of the table. “Whoever is running it…they’d been kidnapping children, young girls, between the ages of 4 and 6. They’re…training them.”

Yelena managed to keep a straight face at Bucky’s words, even as her fists seemed to tighten. You didn’t do as good of a job at hiding it, everyone able to hear the sharp intake of breath from you. Bob could feel the way your hand tightened around his under the table as Yelena turned to look at you.

“Someone is trying to restart The Red Room,” you gave a stiff nod at Yelena’s words as you both came to the same conclusion. “Alright, what’s the plan? Dismantling, intel, what’s the job?”

“Rescue,” Bucky answered back, the digital board behind him showing the faces of a hundred or so young girls that were reported missing around the world. “They’ve got at least a hundred kids that we know of. Contain any agents around, if we can gather intel, then great, but they want us to go in and simply get these kids out of there. This is all hands on deck, no one is sitting this one out.”

You and Bob were alone before the mission, wheels up on the jet in less than ten minutes, according to Bucky. You adjusted the tactical gear that Bob had gotten himself into, the same one as last time, making sure that Bob protected for what was to come. While your hands were busy fidgeting with the buckles and straps on his tactical gear, Bob’s eyes never left your face.

“Are you…are you okay?”

“Well, someone is trying to restart the organization that ruined my life and many others, so…as good as I can be, I guess,” you tried to joke, stopping your movements as you looked up at Bob, hands sliding up until they rested on either side of his face. “I’m okay, I promise, it’s just…it’s a lot. Do me a favor, though? Let’s try not to have any Void related incidents today.”

“No promises,” you quirked an eyebrow at Bob’s words as he faltered. “T-that was supposed to uh, to be a joke.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, at the small smile that crossed his lips, and that four letter word was dying to spill past your lips and out into the open. You held it in, instead pulling Bob into you, molding your lips to his. His arms wound their way around you, albeit still cautiously, as you reveled in the small moment in the arms of the man you loved more than anything you ever had before.

The warehouse deep in the forests of Russia was quiet inside as the team moved through it. John and Bucky led the way through the falls, checking each and every room as Ava and Alexei looked over the files in front of them and gave directions to the area within the warehouse where the girls were said to be kept.

Yelena, Bob and yourself hung by at the back of the pack. Bob was quiet, simply looking between the former Widows as they glanced to one another every single time John or Bucky yelled out a “clear” after checking another room.

“Something is off about this, there’s no one here,” you commented quietly to Yelena and Bob. “Think they knew we were coming?”

“Maybe, but moving that many girls isn’t easy,” Yelena shot back as Bucky gave a nod back to the trio in the back, who moved to the next door. Bob stood behind you as you and Yelena raised your guns to the door, preparing to move through and check the room.

A single kick threw the door open, but the room was empty of anyone inside, just like the other ones were. You reupholstered your gun as Yelena took the right of the room, and you and Bob moved through the left side.

“It’s…kind of creepy down here,” Bob mumbled to you as you rifled through the papers on the desks before you, trying to find anything that could be useful to finding the girls. You laughed lightly at the comment.

“Well it’s not as creepy as The Red Room itself, but you aren’t wrong,”

“Widows, Bob, think we got something!”

John’s voice from the hallway brought the team back together. John quickly passed off the papers he found to you and Yelena as you rifled through them together.

“These are different from the intel we have on the girls,” Yelena shook her head, still flipping through the paperwork. “This talks about an entirely different holding cell for the girls, but it’s on the opposite end of the building.”

“We can’t be sure that information is even accurate,” Ava tried to argue back, looking around at the group. “Our intel clearly outlined they were being kept on the East end of the warehouse, there was nothing about the West end.”

“Easy, we’ll split up,” it was you that cut in, taking the papers from Yelena to look over the information. “You guys follow the original intel we received from Valentina’s team and Yelena and I will go and check out this new information.”

Bob bristled at the thought of splitting up from you, of not being with you for every second of the mission. He couldn’t help but think back on that fated HYDRA mission, of what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been there with her. In a moment of confidence, but what was probably pure terror in his heart, Bob’s hand shot out to grab onto yours as the team watched in silence.

“We- we can’t split up. What if- what if something happens and we- we aren’t there?” your face softened at the familiar look of terror glistening in Bob’s eyes. “What if…what if you get hurt?”

You leaned in quickly, not caring about your friends as you left a soft kiss on his lips, squeezing his hand once before backing away.

“I’ll see you in a bit, I promise,”

Not another word was shared between the ground as you and Yelena made your way back down the hallway toward the West end of the warehouse to check on the new information, while Bucky clapped a hand on Bob’s shoulder, trying to bring him back with them toward their original goal. Bob couldn’t help that his eyes followed you until you fully disappeared down the hallway.

The former widows were quiet for a moment before Yelena cleared her throat, looking over at you with a smirk.

“So…you told Bob you love him yet?”

You barked out a laugh, shaking your head as you both entered back into one of the larger, open rooms of the warehouse. 

“Yelena-”

“I’m just pointing out how sickeningly cute you two are. It’s nice to see Bob come out of his shell around you,” she passed by you, gun at the ready as she checked the room, bumping her shoulder with yours just slightly. “It’s nice to see you so relaxed, too. You’re different around him, lighter. After the life we’ve had…I’m glad you’ve found someone to care about like that, to make the darkness a little lighter.”

You smiled to yourself at her words, adjusting your grip on your own gun for a second as you looked around the room, still moving across the floor.

“Let’s just save these little girls from living through hell like we did so that maybe I can tell him I love him-”

The sentence was barely out of your mouth before an alarm blared, all exit doors in the open room of the warehouse being shuttered immediately. Both you and Yelena whipped back to the doorway you’d just come through, shooting toward what looked like a glass doorway that had come down, but your bullets simply ricocheted off without leaving a single mark.

“How nice it is to see two of my star pupils again,”

You and Yelena whipped around again, guns still trained high as you turned to the woman now standing behind you. Yelena’s grip on her gun tightened as she glanced between the woman and yourself just ten feet from her.

You faltered the second you laid eyes on the woman, grip on your gun loosening for just a second as she stared across the room at you.

The Mistress. Your mother.

“What, no words for your long-lost mother?” there was a smirk on her face as your grip on your gun tightened again. The smirk left her lips as she glared straight at you. “Stand up straight, have I taught you nothing-”

“There’s no girls here, are there,” Yelena cut in, stating her words instead of asking. There was no doubt in her voice. “It was all a setup to get us here.”

“Well not you,” the Mistress pointed her finger toward Yelena, before trailing it to you once again. “More so for my daughter-”

“I’m not your daughter,” you sneered back, finger resting over the trigger of your gun.

There were shouts behind you, the rest of the team seeming to have heard the alarm and running back to find the pair of you. They were stopped behind the glass-like barrier that had been shut. You looked back, seeing Bucky, John and Alexei all trying to break through, but whatever it was made out of was something that it didn’t seem super soldiers could even break that easily.

Your eyes locked with Bob’s terrified ones, and your grip on the gun tightened again.

“What do you want with us?” Yelena called out to the Mistress, who shrugged her shoulders toward her.

“Well, I’m not exactly here for you,” before anyone could react the Mistress had raised her arm, the familiar glow around her wrist of what had been nicknamed “Widow Bites” lighting up before shooting toward Yelena.

You called out for her, throwing yourself between the woman as your gun stayed trained on her and Yelena, who was now writhing on the ground in pain, the electrocution from the device obviously having been increased from the groans that sounded from your closest friend. You could hear Alexei from behind the barrier call out for her.

“This is between us,” you seethed at the Mistress, every second in her presence fueling the anger deep inside of you. All those memories, all those years, all that pain.

“That it is,” she called back. “I needed to see my girl in the flesh. My little deadly assassin, my perfect project, turned into an Avenger. What a joke. This isn’t who you are-”

“You know nothing about me,” you sneered back at her as she laughed.

“I made you, I know everything about you. Just rejoin me, my girl. Train the next generation of Widows at my side,”

“They only place I want to see you is six feet under,”

The Mistress sighed, shaking her head as she reached into the waistband of her pants.

“So sad…my perfect project…and you turned out to be nothing but a mistake,”

The calls from your team, your friends, to stop went unheard as the Mistress pulled a gun, shooting toward you. You dodged with ease, launched forward and grabbed her around the waist, slamming her onto the concrete ground below you as you sat over top of her.

The team was stunned from beyond the glass, all they could see was the wailing of your fists into the woman’s face. She slashes at your arms with a knife from her waistband, but you never even flinched, grabbing the weapon from her hands and launching it across the room before resuming your punches.

“She’s losing it…” Ava whispered loud enough for the team to hear. “Who…who is that woman?”

Bob knew, but it wasn’t his place to tell. From what you’d all explained to him, what played out before them was eerily similar to that day in New York in the Void, in the shame rooms. The way that Bob wailed punches on the other side of himself, desperately trying to free himself from…himself.

You were trapped in your own head, in your own memories and your own pain. You needed him.

Bob shoved through his friends, not wasting a second in placing his hand on the glass no one could break. The second his fingers touched the glass it shattered on impact, thousands of pieces falling to the ground. And he didn’t waste a second before rushing to your side.

Your vision was blurred from your own tears by the time that Bob’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, tugging you backward off of the bloody, beaten shell of a woman now barely breathing below you.

“NO! No, let me kill her! Let me kill her!”

The rest of the team helped Yelena to her feet as they watched on as you screamed and cried, falling into a heap in Bob’s arms as he simply held you, letting you cry as the sound echoed around the room.

Hours later, and Bob was still pacing outside the medical wing of the Watchtower back in New York. You were just on the other side of the door with Yelena, and all he wanted was to be in the room with you. His hands wrung together, his pacing increasing by the minute until the door finally opened.

“She’s okay,” Yelena told Bob with a small smile, holding up a hand to stop him as he rushed up to her the second she was through the door. “Well, physically at least. But she’s okay. She’s asking for you, though.”

“...are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just go in there and see your girl,” Yelena placed a hand on Bob’s shoulder, squeezing it with a smirk on her face, but there was a softness behind it. “And maybe…tell her, if you know what I mean.”

You were stood at the windows within the confined space of the medical wing, looking down on the streets of New York. You could hear the door open and close behind you, the footsteps crossing the room lightly, and coming to stand beside you. You knew who it was without a second thought, reaching over and taking Bob’s hand in your own.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,”

“W-well I’m pretty sure you all uh, you all have seen me worse than that, so…”

You let out a short chuckle at the comment, turning up to look at him as tears pooled in your eyes.

“All I saw was red…she called me a mistake and all I saw was red. I’ve spent so long trying to push it all away, push my childhood away and be this strong person…and all it took was seeing her once for my walls to come crashing down,” a lump formed in your throat as you swallowed it. “I don’t know how to fix it. I can’t push it away anymore, and I…I don’t know how to get better this time.”

Bob seemed to hesitate for a second, before shaky hands came up to cup your cheeks.

“J-just stay with me,”

You smiled, leaning into his touch.

“Stealing my line now-”

“Just stay with me because I…because I love you. A-and I need you,”

You froze for just a moment at his words, and you could see the momentary panic in his eyes before you surged forward into a kiss. It was light, sweet, and the fluttering within your chest mirrored the one happening in his own.

It was you that pulled away, but just barely. Lips just an inch apart, noses brushing as another tear ran down your cheek, but this time not in sadness.

“Always…because I love you too,”

[burreauxoxo]

illicit affairs - joe burrow

secretboyfriend!joe x fem!reader

summary: you started out as friends but once things start to progress, it takes more than the threats given to you by the NFL for you two to stop seeing each other.

warnings: use of ‘y/l/n’, secret relationship, swearing (very little)

word count: 3.6k

note: this is my first bit of writing i am posting here on tumblr! i am still learning the ins and outs so tips and tricks are appreciated. any suggestions towards my writing are always helpful! banner below does not belong to me! same for the pictures above! all credits go to the owners!

~

when it came to working with the cincinnati bengals, it was simple. you edit the film for the players to watch on the many tablets that reside on the sidelines, then you go home.

when you were hired for the job, the contract was extensive. you were to:

1. stay away from the players outside of the stadium if it meant the occasion would lead to foul play.

2. agree on certain clips and informtion being confidential.

3. not discuss what happens to each player if it is not known, public information.

4. and again... stay away from the players if it meant foul play would be the outcome.

you could look at the players or their wives and girlfriends as friends, you could meet for dinner or even post-game celebrations. but if it was a solo outing and things looked steamy, you were conference room bound.

but when it came to a certain quarterback, the temptation was strong. intensely compelling even.

nothing was worth losing your job; and you meant nothing.

very few occasions did you come upon where it was hard to speak to him. just this last time, it had led to an impromptu bathroom break to collect your thoughts. but otherwise, you needed to keep it professional.

professional for the higher-ups and the officials that were constantly hovering over your shoulder and asking you to transfer certain clips to them before they even reached the players.

professional so the players wouldn’t suspect anything.

professional so the fans wouldn't disect the clips or photos of every time you two were seen together.

because only the two of you were to know what has happened and what will happen outside of that stadium.

it all started when you were given a request by a certain quarterback for a clip where people were calling his accuracy questionable. he could have waited for the mass release of the whole game to be uploaded or even ask the coach to put in a request for a certain timeframe so he was able to rewatch this "questionable" play.

instead, he went straight to the source.

"i didn't want any delay, i just need to see what was happening."

that was the main excuse for his sudden knock on the media room door. players rarely came up to that door. but after an outfit change and a long press conference, joe burrow was determined to get that thirty second clip onto his tablet as soon as he wanted it.

but after conversing with you, he knew that wasn't going to be the last time he was going to see you.

it quickly became repetitive. at first, you didn't realize that maybe his visits were intentional. some may call you naive, but you were sure that it was really, truly impossible.

joe burrow taking time out of his day to come see you? yeah right, cue the laughing track.

but when he got closer, pulled out one of the rolling chairs and asked you to explain what you were doing, the heat practically radiated off of your cheeks to represent just how nervous you were. you had just adapted to his random visits, requesting clips. but now, he was acting interested in what you were doing. it was truly impossible.

that was all you could tell yourself. joe burrow was... a lot of things. you, not so much. so what made you different from all of the well-known, famous females he had at his fingertips?

first, he offered to walk you to your car. you had politely declined and said that the pink container of pepper spray you had in your bag would do the job. if you were being honest, the guards that watched over the parking lot were the only things that kept you safe. when it was just you at the end of the night, you'd be too scared shitless to dig for a small pink container, let alone unlock it and coordinate a decent aim to knock them onto their ass.

so, an offer from someone other than a guard or an off-duty custodian was nice for a change. you declined him anyways.

what came with a decline, was a follow-up visit.

"i was wondering if you had any backlog of clips from the game against the commanders? i'd like to revist... you know?"

"i have backlog from the beginning of my stay here. care for a game from twenty twenty-one?"

joe sat there as you looked in the file from the game he wanted. you offered the whole game or him specifically; you had both.

"the whole game works."

with a few clicks and a thirty second wait, you spun your chair in his direction.

"check your tablet." you say and nod your head at the device that sat on his leg while he waited. he seen a gray square start to show up with a loading signal circling in the middle of it. give or take a minute or two, a clip that was an hour and a half long had been uploaded.

"thanks."

you thought he'd head out after that. but he didn't. he asked how long you had and you told him you were packing up now.

you watched him stand up, unknowing of what was to come.

the both of you had stopped at your car first. he lingered for a second before he gave you a look. a look that signified more than you'd like to admit. you insisted on putting your bags and equipment down first and then the conversation could continue.

but before you knew it, the both of you were in the back of your car... the rest of the night simply ahead of you. the back of your car wasn’t ideal, but it kept the both of you away from being seen by anybody.

nights like that one only continued. it happened another time or two before he offered to take you somewhere else.

"no, we shouldn't." you insisted and at the time, he agreed.

the sneaking around didn't stop, it seemed too easy of a task. that was probably the worst thing you had ever admitted.

a few more identical excursions took place before joe stopped agreeing that you two shouldn’t be doing this.

“what happens with us, stays between us. nobody is going to know.”

he melted the worries that swarmed your head. somewhere down the line of history within the nfl, you couldn’t have been the first ones to play the officials and sneak around a couple times.

you finally agreed one night. but that night, wasn’t the end zone. it wasn’t going to stop there.

it got to the point of joe going to a smoothie shop or out for lunch so you would "bump into him." you took it as an opportunity to go for a run since the meetings usually took place in the earlier hours of the day. your landing spot would be the location he told you and the both of you would basically stage a situation.

you ran until you reached the location, you would check your apple watch, you'd walk into the establishment and you'd place an order. when you would turn around, the two of you would catch each others eyes and then act surprised. but, it wasn't going to last long acting that way.

it would become too frequent. the guards that lingered in the gated community that kept watch of his home, would gain recognition of you and would later learn your identity. for some strange reason, you thought that would be the downfall.

and you were right.

it wasn't one hundred percent the security guards fault. he had other places he needed to keep an eye on. as soon as he happened to drive away for maybe five minutes, it was perfect timing for a photographer to capture one single photo of you walking out of joe’s house, him shirtless behind you.

eventually, the developing nightmare landed you in one of those dark and scary conference rooms that you told yourself you'd never be in unless the problem wasn’t you but someone else. your luck had run out. you said it wasn't worth losing your job.

when you unplugged your equipment to load it into your bag for work that morning, a part of you knew it could be for the last time.

each seat in the ominous conference room was occupied by yourself, joe, a handful of higher-ups, your manager, coach taylor, and joe's agent.

the tension in the room was high. you paid careful attention to the many sheets of paper that were floating from person to person at the table. everyone but joe and yourself had a stack of papers in front of them. they all make a signal that was very obviously planned, and pull the photo that was taken of the two of you to the front of the stack.

"miss. y/l/n, you understand why we are all gathered here today, right?" one of the main guys said.

"yes, sir. i do." you replied. you held your hands together in front of you and on the table to appear as professional as possible. you told yourself it was too late but really, it was never too late.

"mr. burrow, do you understand why we are here today?"

"i do." joe says, not one ounce of doubt or discouragement in his voice.

"well then, let's get this show on the road. some time in the early hours of this morning, we received an email that held this photo that depicts the both of you standing in the entry way of mr. burrow's house. miss y/l/n, you signed a contract a few years ago, agreeing on a whole section that is based around fraternization. what comes with a signiture, is agreeing to the consequences, correct?" your manager speaks.

"yes, sir." you nod.

"with that being said, after the both of you are given a chance to explain yourselves, immediate termination will likely take place, just as the contract states. you are given a chance for explaination to really confirm if that route is necessary, but there is photo proof. there is no turning back from that." he adds.

"wait, so she is getting terminated for a two person job? this included the both of us, it is partially my fault as well." joe says.

"we understand that. your contract is constructed differently though. if you land yourself in a position of being with, let's say, an agent, a manager, a coach, or someone from the front office, similar results would occur. but your contract is different from hers here."

“alright. i’d like to explain first. to start, does anyone have a copy of her contract?” joe asks.

you sat there listening to his words, no clue what he was going to say. he could dissect your contract and spill every hidden action you two participated in; if he truly wanted to, he could.

your manager slides over a three-paged packet and lets joe take a look at it.

“here. it states that she is to stay away from players outside of the stadium if it meant the occasion was going to lead to foul play. does having a smoothie count as foul play?” joe asks.

“no, it does not.” your manager says, still not backing down from the strict and solid attitude he stepped in with.

“does having lunch count as foul play?” joe continues.

“it does not.”

“one of our cheerleaders is great friends with a wife of someone on the team, they went to college together. if she were to go to that players house to either drop something off, visit the wife, or even have dinner as friends, would that count as foul play?” joe asks.

“no mr. burrow, it does not.” your manager sighs.

“okay then. miss y/l/n here did not contribute to any noteworthy foul play and i am here as a witness.”

“joe, you are shirtless while she is leaving your house. what does that say or maybe even imply?” coach taylor says.

“i was working out and she dropped lunch off. she was in the area and asked if i needed anything.”

“would you have proof?” your manager asks.

you both pull your phones out of your back pockets. you both scroll through a couple texts and pull up identical text conversations. you’re telling him you had a doctors appointment in the area and would bring him lunch if he wanted something, and then there was a break in the texts. you didn’t know what he was really doing but it played into the “working out” plan.

“hm, okay. i guess this is why we allow explanations.” your manager says and looks around the table at all the guys who sat there, defeated looks put on view.

“so, nobody is losing their job today?” joe asks.

“no, she is not. we want to instill the rules and remind you that stuff behind the scenes will be investigated if it needs to be. stop with the clandestine meetings and if you two are good friends, then let that show. the secrecy raised red flags but i’m glad you two were able to confirm what was truly happening. on a similar note, if anything is going on between the two of you, now is the time to say so. coming to us and telling us would make the situation a lot better than if we were to find out through the media.”

you and joe look at each other and shrug.

“no. we are just friends.”

~

it didn’t end there.

joe was asked on multiple occasions if a follow-up meeting was necessary. after you were seen at an event for the joe burrow foundation, you received an email. after you were seen participating in bye week shenanigans, you received an email. you wore a jersey with the number nine on it and guess what, you received an email!

you had talked to joe many times about just telling them because this something, was becoming obvious. ja’marr was calling you “joe’s girl” and joe wouldn’t deny it. you’d go no longer than a couple days without seeing each other. the eye contact alone would cause a ruckus if an outsider happened to see it.

but it was the times joe told you to clean up after yourself once you were leaving his place for the first time in a couple days. you’d thought about leaving a small trace of you behind in case something else was going on. but at this point, it was truly impossible.

the more he’d mention not to leave things behind, the more you thought this was going to fade out. you stopped mentioning the possibility of speaking to the higher-ups about the two of you. you stopped offering your support.

it was until he mentioned you coming to a basketball game with him that you felt like calling it off. you didn’t want to look like a fool. people were already calling you “his side piece.”

that was the last name you wanted to be called.

so once you showed up at his place, ready for the game that would take place later on that day, he felt something was off.

“you could have said you didn’t feel like going.” joe admits in the silence.

“i wanted to go.” you say, silence falling over the two of you once again.

“listen, if telling your manager and my coach and whoever else makes you feel better, then let’s do it.” joe finally says.

“it wouldn’t just ‘make me feel better.’ that isn’t even what’s on my mind.” you say.

“okay then, what is?”

“i know you like your privacy and your own space and whatnot, but why do you make sure i have all of my stuff cleaned up before i leave? am i not the only one or am i in the way of something?”

“no, not at all. i was just trying to play along with the story we have going. if someone were to come over here and see your stuff everywhere, then it says a lot.” joe explains.

you believed it. it was a reasonable meaning.

“you know, i would have agreed to getting fired that day if it meant things would work out.” you admitted.

“what? absolutely not. it’s a job we both took part in. if i wasn’t being fired too then how is that fair and do you feel like things aren’t working out right now?”

“i don’t know.”

joe came closer to you, eyeing your features.

"i will find a way to make sure all of this works out." joe says.

the pit that grew in your stomach, triples in size due to the sudden use of your nerves. what did he mean by that?

~

the night went on just as you expected. there wasn’t much time left until the game would be over and a winner would be declared. joe sat with his arms crossed, a small smile still displayed on his serious face. on occasion, you’d glance over and admire his features and how he focused on a different team for once.

the way he followed each player as they ran up and down the court. the way he’d celebrate a score when a basket was made after a serious battle between the ball and the surrounding players. it was nice to see him enthralled with something other than the game he played for a living.

you had noticed that a “kiss cam” was being displayed on the screens, broadcasting various couples to the whole arena.

it stunned you when your figure next to joe’s was displayed on said screen. the noise in the arena picked up as joe leans into you some, turning your face to look towards him with his pointer finger and thumb. his other arm was resting behind you; the moment looked too casual.

a feeling like no other, his lips on yours for not only the whole arena to see but for all of the viewers to see. feeling like one of the first times you shared a conversation with him, the heat radiating off of your cheeks was almost too hot to handle.

you kept as calm as you could, smiling through the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins. that same adrenaline didn’t leave you for the rest of the night. once you and joe were escorted out of the arena, you both knew you’d be receiving an email about what had happened, maybe even a conference room invite.

the two of you seen it coming, so why stop now?

~

the next morning, joe had practice to be at. you were cuddled in a ball of his blankets when you were woken up by your phone ringing multiple times back to back.

joe.

“hello?” you ask.

“they want you to meet us here for a meeting. none of them look happy but… what can you do?” he jokes.

now wasn’t the time for jokes if none of them looked happy. but you still climbed out of your warm cave you made with his comforter and got up to change. throughout the duration of preparing yourself, you contemplated a lot.

this could be it. you could be losing your job. over some frivolous actions. it was official… joe burrow clouded your ability to make better decisions.

once you made it to the stadium, the speed behind your steps kicked up a notch. you walked with confidence to show that you don’t buckle under pressure.

entering the conference room with a professional demeanor, nobody batted an eye once you found a seat next to joe.

“so, here we are again.” your manager says, a new stack of papers in front of him.

“let’s not lollygag. why did neither one of you think that stepping forward with honesty was the better move to make?” one of the officials says.

“cut the ‘we are just friends’ shit too. it’s obviously not true.” your manager says.

“we were just about to contact you guys.” you admit.

“you sure about that? you looked pretty preoccupied last night.”

“i have a draft in my emails.” you jump at the opportunity to say.

“keep it. since we’ve been here once before and since we offered many follow-up meetings to avoid this exact moment, there will be consequences.” your manager says.

“sir, we are adults. we have free-will. we both have proved that we can keep our work lives at work and home life at home. we keep things professional around here, so what could possibly be wrong?” joe taunts.

“that’s why termination would be the go-to but due to previous knowledge, i am going to propose an offer of a thirty-day suspension.” your manager says.

“while active on a thirty-day suspension, you are to not step foot on the stadiums premises unless permission is granted and nothing before approval. you and mr. burrow here have represented a civil relationship and there is nothing more we ask for. we do recommend minimal contact the day of the game for focusing purposes.” an official says.

“i would also recommend an nda. either both parties can sign one or i could just print one on mr. burrow’s behalf.” joe’s agent says.

“that would be unnecessary, she is already under a contract.” your manager says.

“just for safety purposes. mr. burrow is a very private person and i would hate for anything to be released against his wishes.” he continues.

“no, she doesn’t need to sign an nda.” joe cuts in.

his agent is silent from here on.

once the respective papers were signed and you agreed that the thirty-day suspension was necessary and valid, you packed up your stuff and made your way back home.

you were sitting on the couch when a call from joe came through.

“i can’t believe we pulled that off.” he says.

“see, i told you i’d do whatever if it meant things would work out.”

“and i never doubted you once. thank you for sticking it out with me.”

SILENTLY LOSING MY MIND OVER UPLOADING MY FIRST PIECE OF WRITING!!! I HATE THIS!!

if you want to be added to a taglist, let me know!! <3

[formulakracing]

"my hero" - m.v.

pairing: social worker!reader x max verstappen

word count: idek tbh (i’m posting this on my lunch break hehe)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, max in bf mode, long distance couple, cursing here and there, mentions of mental health, mentions of mental health disorders, mentions of physical health, yada, yada, yada

a/n: i know i said i was working on requests but this idea would not leave my brain all day. i couldn't stop thinking about it so i had to write it. (it's def a little self-indulgent) i hope y'all enjoy!

"ah! there you are. i can see you now!""

a giggle bubbles up in your throat, your lips forming a wide smile, "hi baby, how are you?"

he shrugs, the image distorted for about a millisecond. he comes into frame once again, slightly pixelated. however, you can make out the sleepy grin plastered across his face, and the twinkle in his eye as he looks into the camera.

max verstappen, three time world driver’s champion, is on facetime with you, donned in nothing but a black cotton tee and his boxers. you can tell from the background that he’s in his motorhome, settled in his room.

his hair is a disheveled mess, sticking up haphazardly. he more than likely just got out of the shower, as the fabric of the tee clung to his toned frame. underneath his eyes were two faint circles, the skin slightly puffy.

yet, here he was, calling you at god knew what hour just to hear the sound of your voice.

"tired. very fucking tired."

"i can imagine so," you nod, typing along at your laptop, "what time is it there?"

he hums, leaning over his phone, "it's about eleven thirty?"

"max!" your eyes widen, "you need to get some sleep. it's qualifying tomorrow!"

"and?" he counters, arching a brow, "i wanted to hear how your day went. from your messages, it seemed like it was quite eventful."

"i'm just wrapping up my notes now," you exhale, your shoulders slumping slightly, "it was a long day."

"i can imagine my baby," he coos, settling underneath the covers, "tell me all about it."

"i can assure you being a case worker is not nearly as riveting as a formula one driver," you snort, shaking your head, "you go first."

"nope," he was not budging, his attention still fixated solely on you, "tell me about your day, and then i'll share about mine. it's only fair."

"well," you wrinkle your nose, glancing over the open document on your laptop screen, "my day started with one of my clients experiencing a small crisis. she was without food so she called me, asking if i could take her to the nearest pantry. while i was with her, another client of mine called asking if i could transport him to his appointment.

i probably could have, but he reached out to me only fifteen minutes before his appointment time. i received my new staffing form today. i have a couple of clients who are in need of housing so i had to make some calls to some local agencies."

"and how did that go?" you can't help but feel heat flourishing into your cheeks at the intrigue laced in his tone, "were you able to make some progress?"

"not really," you inhale sharply, "housing is really difficult to find right now. it's sort of like when your tires are giving out, but you need them to last a few more laps. you have to remain hopeful so that you can keep pushing."

“i like that analogy,” he fights a yawn, but continues regardless, “that’s a good one. i’m going to use that.”

“as long as you credit me,” you muse, clicking your mousepad as you finalize your note, “how was practice today?”

“so-so,” he chirps, “i missed you a lot today. thought about you nearly every second of the practice session. you’re flying out next week, right?”

you nod, shutting your laptop, “yes. i’ll be leaving wednesday evening and catching a late flight. hopefully when i land, there will be this insanely handsome dutch man waiting for me.”

“is that right?” max’s dimples appear, causing your heart to skip a beat, “i’m hoping that my good luck charm arrives safe and sound. i can’t wait to see her.”

“counting down the minutes are we?”

“you have no idea,” carefully, he plucks his phone from his makeshift stand, bringing you closer into the bed with him, “will you stay on till i fall asleep?”

at his request, there’s a tug at your heart. fuck, if only you were with him. then he would have been able to lay on you until he dozed off. his head would have been snuggled into uour collabone, your hands tangled in his hair, playing with it as his chest steadily rose and fell.

if only you were there. if only you were an influencer or a model. if only you could take work with you, dropping everything to fly all over the world. if only you weren’t separated by time zones, where you had to carefully coordinate facetime calls.

if only you weren’t long distance, then maybe you wouldn’t feel like this.

if only.

“hey,” max’s voice is merely a whisper, “are you okay?”

your lower lip trembles, tears welling up, threatening to spill over. there’s a choking sound, as you attempt to suppress a sob.

yet, it was too late. they were streaming down your cheeks now, your hands instinctively shielding your face.

“baby,” max murmurs, “what’s going on?”

“this shit sucks,” you shake your head, the words strained, “i hate that i’m not with you right now. i hate that we’re long distance. i hate that i have to stay here and—“

“but your clients need you,” his tone is delicate, “you’re the one person they can count on when everything else is going to shit. they need you like i need you. i can tell you had a long day baby, but i’m here. i’m here for you, no matter what.”

“i-i love you,” you manage to sputter out, wiping your cheeks, “i love you, max.”

“and i love you more than you’ll ever know,” in the frame, a pillow is held against his chest, “i’m even cuddling this pillow right now pretending that it’s you.”

“i can’t believe you fell in love with some plain girl from the states,” you sigh, resting your head against the couch cushion, “out of everyone in the world, you happened to fall in love with me.”

“you’re not just any girl from the states,” for a moment, you’re shocked at the firmness in his tone, “you’re my girl. it takes someone special to do what you do. you’re my hero baby. i aspire to be as strong as you.”

“i love you,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile, “am i really your hero?”

“of course,” it doesn’t even take him a second to respond, “like i said, you’re the strongest person i know. you inspire me.”

“i can’t wait to see you,” you murmur, taking note of the way his eyes were drooping, “i’ll stay on till you sleep, my love. it seems like you need it.”

“hey,” one eye opens, barely a slit, “i know this shit sucks right now, but we’ll make it. okay? one day you’ll get to come home to me and tell me all about your day rather than calling. it’ll be worth it. i promise.”

“i hope so. i love you, maxie. sleep well, my love. i’ll be there before you know it.”

“try to have a good evening,” you could barely make out the statement, as he was beginning to doze off, “just end the call when i’m asleep. i’ll message you in the morning.”

“i’ll be here,” opening your laptop, you prop it against the screen, “goodnight, maxie.”

“night, night, baby.”

as sleep takes a hold of the dutch driver, you remain on the call, opening youtube. cautiously, you click on one of your favorite videos. it’s a montage of all of max’s wins, starting from the 2016 spanish grand prix.

the video begins to play, the volume carefully adjusted so that it doesn’t wake him.

as your gaze shifts to your phone once again, you can’t help but hear his words ringing in your ears.

one day this would all be worth it.

and one day, max verstappen would be able to be with his hero.

every single day for the rest of his life.