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rosyblooom · 2 months

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chicken shop date | cl16 smau

pairing: charles leclerc x fem youtuber!reader

summary: y/n hosts a popular youtube channel where she invites various celebrities to have a 'chicken shop date'. in this upcoming episode, she welcomes famous formula 1 driver, charles leclerc.

a/n: all my love to amelia, i love her vids🫶🫶 also, pls lmk what u think :)

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading! thank uu!! :)

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▯

21st of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: red 4 🏎️🏎️🏎️ ]

[ caption: chicken shop date out on saturday!!! xx ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: aussie aussie aussie 🦘 ]

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbfusername, landonorris and 137,923 others

yourusername i love you australia xx

view all 4,831 comments

yourbfusername third pic 👀👀

yourusername 🤫 username that's suspicious...

username ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE????

username flying across the globe for a chicken shop date??? oh this is serious guys

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charles_leclerc ❤️

yourusername 🥰🥰 username so the plot thickens username love u charlie🫶🫶

username y/n don't play with me rn. are you dating charles or nah

(liked by author)

username girl it's been 84 years we are tired of the games😭 username 'liked by author' WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

landonorris here for mclaren i'm hoping

yourusername i- sure! username oooh it's the lying for me miss

22nd of March, 2024

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username, and 8,239 others

f1gossipofficial After arriving in Australia last night and posting a picture hugging who fans believe to be Charles Leclerc, Y/N L/N made her F1 debut this morning during the practice sessions.

She and Charles appeared to be very close, only further fuelling the dating rumours that have been circulating the internet for the past month. As of yet, however, neither of the pair has confirmed nor denied the ongoing rumours.

view all 273 comments

username bruh how hard is a "we're dating/we're not dating."😑

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username Y/N as an f1 wag???? OH HOW I USED TO PRAY FOR THESE TIMES

username aw she's so pretty

username a chicken shop date episode with charles is dropping tmrw so i think it's all pretend

username oh yeahhhh I almost forgot username but travelling all across the world for that seems a little excessive? she's literally already super successful ygm username pretending for over 4 weeks is nasty work😫

username did anyone see the way he looks at her though????😍

username RIGHT?? THEYRE SO CUTE OMG😭

23rd of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: this is more like it 😌 ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

charles_leclerc posted to his story!

[ caption: Lucky charm secured ❤️ ]

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbfusername, landonorris and 277,004 others

yourusername chicken shop date with @charles_leclerc OUT NOW!! hope it's an uncomfortable watch xx

view all 4,992 comments

username 10/10 awkwardness, I had to pause multiple times. truly hated it, keep posting more!

yourusername thank u thank u. will do🫡 username loool Y/N ilysm

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yourbfusername wait you guys are lowkey cute🧐

yourusername *highkey username OMG IS THIS A CONFIRMATION??? WE WONNNN username just fell to my knees in tesco pls don't be joking Y/N😭

charles_leclerc Avez-vous déjà pratiqué votre français ? (have you even been practising your french?)

yourusername oui oui 😌 username she's actually got it lmaoo who would've thought💀

username LMAO Y/N not "what are we?" why are you like this💀💀

username that's so real of her tbh

2:35 ───ㅇ───────── 7:55

The YouTube video begins with a series of clips showing Y/N and Charles laughing, with intermittent shots of Y/N looking directly at the screen. The familiar tune of Y/N's 'chicken shop date' videos begins as stop-motion hearts flutter across the screen, transitioning smoothly to a scene featuring two dolls seated in a miniature chicken shop date setting, seamlessly leading into the main content of the video.

"Charles Leclerc," Y/N warmly greets, resting her elbows on the table. "Welcome to our date."

Charles responds with a smile, settling back in his seat and gesturing around. "Y/N Y/LN, thank you. I'm very happy to be on our first date... here... with all these cameras," he remarks jokingly.

Y/N narrows her eyes slightly, briefly glancing around before refocusing on Charles with a hum. "I'm not sure what you're implying. This location is a solid 10 out of 10," she says, gesturing to their surroundings. "Besides, do you see the chicken?" she adds, plucking a single fry from her meal box and waving it in the air, awaiting his response.

"You mean the fry?" Charles chuckles, pointing. "That's not chicken."

Y/N takes a bite of the fry, pausing to swallow before clearing her throat. "I'm aware," she says with a dramatic tilt of her head and a tight-lipped smile. "I just grabbed it because I fancied a fry."

"But anyway," she continues, circling back to the initial question, "do... you... see... the... chicken?" Sensing his hesitation, she places her hands firmly on the table. "Look at me. It's a simple yes or no, Charles."

"Well, actually, it's yes or yes," she corrects herself with two affirmative nods, before redirecting her attention back to him.

Charles responds with a smile, though his expression betrays his confusion, evident in the different angles of his raised eyebrows. "Yes, I see it, Y/N."

"And do you taste it?" Y/N asks slowly.

"I haven't yet..."

"So, what are you waiting for?" she claps her hands together, motioning towards the untouched box of food in front of him. "Don't be shy now."

Charles chuckles as he sits up in his chair and leans forward, rummaging through the food before pulling out a chicken nugget. As he dips the piece in some ketchup, his eyes meet Y/N's once more, her wide-eyed nod urging him on.

"Go on."

"Okay, okay," he says, taking a bite. "Mmm," he nods, almost as if someone were holding a gun to his head, compelling him to do so.

"Oh," Y/N purses her lips and shakes her head, "I don't like it when people make noises while eating."

"Uh," Charles swallows and chuckles, "sorry?"

Y/N shrugs. "It's okay, I forgive you."

"Anyway," she inhales deeply, "what do you think? That's some good chicken, right?"

"Yeah, actually, it is really good," Charles nods as he speaks.

Suddenly, the video cuts to a staff member in chicken shop attire standing behind the counter, wearing a smile while staring at the camera, unmoving.

Then, the video returns to Charles and Y/N.

As Charles takes another bite of his chicken nugget, Y/N casually asks, "Do you think our children will like chicken?"

Coughing sounds interrupt as Charles drops his chicken into the box, knocking his fist against his chest until the sound clears. His voice croaks as he speaks, his brows furrowing, "Our children? We're talking about children already?"

Y/N's composure cracks slightly as she chuckles, clearly amused by his reaction, and observes him reaching for a glass of water, taking large gulps. However, she quickly regains control, shrugging nonchalantly before continuing, "Well, yeah. I don't know about you, but I date for marriage—I want a little family of my own someday. Don't you?"

Charles rubs his eyebrows and places the glass back on the table. "Yes, I do want to have a family one day. But this feels like it's moving very fast, don't you think?"

Y/N shakes her head. "Not at all. To be honest, I want one boy and one girl. What about you?"

At Y/N's continued forwardness, Charles releases a laugh, visibly bewildered, before scratching at his beard in deep thought. Propping up his elbows on the table, he finally responds, "I think I want a boy."

"—And a girl," Y/N interjects, smiling expectantly.

Charles blurts out a laugh, clearly taken aback, before nodding. "Yeah, a girl too. I don't really mind."

"Great, so we're on the same page then."

The video cuts off again, this time to the entrance of the chicken shop, slowly panning into the empty and bright interior with multiple tables and chairs. The camera stops on the large menu, featuring pictures of chicken and fries, lingering for a few moments before cutting back to Charles and Y/N.

However, this time Y/N is holding a piece of paper in front of her.

"So, I hear you're French?" Y/N glances up at Charles, noticing the grimace on his face. Quickly realising her mistake, she corrects herself, "Oh, hold on, no wait, don't kill me please. You speak French, but you're from Monaco—you don't claim France at all."

Charles laughs and nods in agreement. "Correct. I am Monegasque. Those are separate countries, yes."

Y/N purses her lips, her eyes flickering from side to side. "I know, I literally just said that." Clicking her tongue, she exhales a long breath and continues, "Anyway, what a coincidence. I'm actually trying to learn French."

Something flashes in Charles' eyes as he suddenly leans forward in his chair, his expression filled with keen interest. "Oh wow, tu l'es ? Comment vas-tu ?" (translation: "Oh wow, you are? How are you?")

Y/N freezes, her mouth parted slightly in a half-smile. For a moment, she just stares, clearly startled, before scratching the back of her neck and humming deep in thought. "Oh, okay, straight into the deep end, huh?" she chuckles and then blurts out, "Oui, oui?"

Charles tosses his head back, laughing, while Y/N folds her hands together, waiting expressionless for his laughter to subside. When he finally regains his composure, his eyes back on Y/N, she says, "Great, thanks."

"I'm sorry," Charles waves his hand in the air, "I just thought you'd know the basics already. My mistake."

Y/N narrows her gaze at him for a few moments before taking a deep breath. "Well, that's what I've got you here for." Clearing her throat, she tilts her gaze down at the paper and asks, "Let's start easy, shall we? I'm going to give you a few sentences in French, and you translate them back to me in English."

Charles furrows his brows. "Wouldn't it make more sense the other way around?"

"What can I say, I'm special," she shrugs, "I actually learn better this way."

"Ah, of course you are."

"Alright. Je t'aime."

"I love you," says Charles.

Y/N places her hand across her chest. "Aw, Charles. Dropping the L-bomb already, are we?"

Charles drags his teeth across his lower lip while shaking his head. "Next one, please."

“Veux-tu m'épouser?" (translation: "Will you marry me?")

Charles tilts his head sideways, an amused expression spreading across his face. “Seriously?”

Y/N clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “No, that doesn’t quite sound right. I think you might need to brush up on your French, Charles, because I’m pretty sure ‘Veux-tu m'épouser’ does not mean ‘seriously.’”

Exhaling a long breath, she rotates in her seat and straightens up. “Don’t worry though, I’ll give you another chance.”

Charles rolls his eyes playfully before releasing a whistle. Rubbing his hands together, he begins, “Will you marry me. That’s what it mea—”

“Charles!” Y/N's jaw drops as she interrupts him. “Well, I’m a hot commodity, you know? But I want to know, how would our marriage work? I mean, how long are you planning on racing, anyway?”

Charles smiles, slumping into his seat as he reaches for a fry and tosses it into his mouth. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I love racing and I want to be a world champion, so we’ll just have to see how long that takes.”

“You want to be a world champion, yet you extended your contract with Ferrari?” Y/N's brows furrow inquisitively. “That’s an interesting choice.”

A couple of chuckles escape Charles as he runs his hand up and down his neck, his gaze fixed on the half-empty box of food before him. After a moment's pause, he replies with a casual shrug, “They're like family to me. And honestly, when I see myself winning, it’s always with the Ferrari team by my side.”

“Fair enough,” Y/N exhales, her eyes widening as she claps her hands together. “I suppose I'll have to stock up on red outfits.”

Noticing Charles’ puzzled expression, Y/N theatrically rolls her eyes before explaining, “For our next date, silly. I’ll be your lucky charm, and then you can finally start winning and have a real shot at the World Championship.”

“Wow, how nice of you, Y/N,” Charles responds with a lazy smile. “Merci.”

“Oooh,” Y/N points at him, nodding in satisfaction, “I know that one. You’re welcome…”

“…Boyfriend?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at him. “What—what are we?”

He ponders for a moment, swaying slightly from side to side, then relents, “Okay, sure… girlfriend.”

The video cuts to the outro, displaying various polaroids of Y/N flashing by, accompanied by a text reading, ‘If you enjoyed the video, please don’t forget to like and subscribe for more! xx’.

24th of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: early day😴😴 ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 4,723 others

f1gossipofficial Y/N L/N and Charles Leclerc have been spotted entering the Paddock together. Numerous sources have also confirmed seeing them exchange a few kisses.

As always, wishing the drivers all the best for today's race!

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liked by yourusername, carlossaiz55, username and 324,076 others

f1 Carlando back on the podium together! Congrats to Carlos Sainz, Lando Norris and Charles Leclerc on their wins! Huge accomplishments!

#F1 #Formula1 #AusGP

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yourusername

liked by yourbfusername, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 263,014 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername as the french say 'soo la voo' or whatever xxx

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7:35 ───────────ㅇ─ 7:55

hope u enjoyed! thoughts are appreciated! <3

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fxrmuladaydreams · 2 months

Text

punishments (ls2 + op81)

dom!oscar x sub!reader x switch!logan (poly relationship)

summary: oscar was serious about punishing you and logan when you met him in Australia

notes: i really made it seem like logan is the brat and the reader is the angel in the relationship so go with it

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! bondage, oral (f receiving), fingering, slight overstimulation, unprotected p in v

missing oscar (the first part)

“Do you think Oscar will be mad?” You ask quietly, staring up at the ceiling.

“He’ll get over it by the time we see him.” Logan shrugs, gently wiping between your legs with a damp towel.

He tosses it back to the bathroom, then crawls into bed with you, wrapping you up in his arms.

“I love you.” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your head. “Don’t worry about Os, okay?”

“Okay. I love you too.” You tell him, burying your face in his chest and letting sleep take over.

You try not to think too much about Oscar like Logan said while you’re in the states, but can’t help it, apart from the fact that you genuinely miss him, you can’t help but wonder what your punishment will be. Sure, you’d seen Oscar punish Logan before, but never really you, you were always his good girl.

You try not to let the nerves take over too much as you fly to Australia, part of you eager to see your other boyfriend. You can tell Logan is excited to see him too, having mentioned him quite a few times near the end of your trip.

All nerves seem to wash away when Oscar picks you both up from the airport. You practically run into his arms, eager to finally be together once more. You take Oscar’s hand in yours, while Logan takes Oscar’s other, as you walk to his car.

You spend the day wrapped up in each other’s arms in your shared hotel room, chatting about what you’ve done while apart; seeing Logan’s family, and Oscar doing his Esquire shoot.

“Logan was drooling over the photos for days!” You tell Oscar.

“No I wasn’t! Shut up!” Logan laughs, blushing.

Oscar smirks. “Aww, did you miss me Lo?”

“We both did.” He answers.

“I know.” Oscar says, his voice dropping slightly. “I remember you two were misbehaving while I was gone.”

You look up at Oscar with wide eyes as Logan shies away.

“Don’t think you can avoid your punishments.” Oscar sits up straighter on the bed. “In fact, I think now would be a perfect time to teach you your lessons.”

He stands up from the bed to walk over to a drawer. “Logan, chair.” He nods to the chair at the desk across from the bed.

Logan slowly gets up, leaving you on the bed and walks over to the chair. He sits down and watches Oscar dig around for something. His eyes grow wide when Oscar holds up a tie.

“Take your shirt off.” Oscar instructs him.

Logan nods, tugging his shirt over his head, then tossing it aside.

“Now hands behind your back.”

Logan holds his hands behind him as Oscar ties them together. He then kneels down in front of Logan and slowly tugs his sweatpants and boxers down until they lay around his ankles.

“Don’t be a brat.” He says, then turns away from the blonde.

Oscar moves back to the bed with you once he’s finished with Logan. His eyes are dark, darker than usual as he reaches out to you.

He softly brushes your hair away from your face.

“Did you miss me baby?” He asks.

You nod.

“I need your words. Both of you need to use your words tonight, got it?”

“Yes Os.” You tell him.

“Yes Oscar.” Logan answers.

“Good.” Oscar nods. He lets his head fall forward to the crook of your neck. His nose traces along your skin, his lips just barely brushing against you. “You weren’t being a good girl while I was gone.”

You don’t answer him. You know it’s a statement, not a question. Instead you grab onto his arms, eager to hold any part of him you can.

“You’re usually my good girl. What happened?” He coos.

“I- I needed you Os…” you whine as his teeth nip at your skin. His hands slowly make their way up your shirt, brushing against your skin.

“You were needy, and you let Logan manipulate you, huh?” Oscar looks over at the blonde in the chair.

“She wanted me. She said it herself.” Logan taunts.

“She wanted to cum.” Oscar snaps at him. “And now she’s going to cum over and over and over again, until I’m finished with her. And you’re going to sit there and watch.”

You whine, your eyes locked on Oscar.

“You remember your safe words?” He asks, looking at you then Logan.

“Yes Oscar.” You both answer.

“Good.” Oscar says, then pulls you into his embrace with a messy kiss.

It’s all teeth and tongues as Oscar pulls you onto his lap. You straddle him, locking your ankles behind him, keeping yourself wrapped around him as you kiss him. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair as you press yourself against him, desperate to be as close to him as possible.

Oscar smirks into the kiss when he feels you shamelessly grinding against him, the little whines coming from your mouth proof of how much you need him.

“Lay back baby.” He says against your lips.

You pull yourself away from Oscar to lay down on your back, eager to follow his directions.

“There’s my good girl.” He coos. “Let’s get these clothes off of you.” He slowly undresses you, kissing every new bit of skin revealed in the process, and tosses your clothes to lay with Logan’s.

He trails kisses down your body until he’s laying between your legs. “So pretty.” He says softly as he spreads you open for him. “And so wet for me.” He trails his tongue through your folds.

“Os…” you whine, reaching down to tangle a hand in his hair.

Oscar pulls his head away to look up at you. “No, I want you to tell Logan how good it feels, to show him what he could have had if he behaved.”

Logan whines in his chair, shifting his hips as if it’ll help him feel something, anything, as he watches the scene in front of him.

Oscar lifts your legs over his shoulders, his arms locked around you, making sure you can’t move from his grasp. He devours you like a man starved, and it doesn’t stop after you’ve cum. He sucks your clit into his mouth, determined to give you a second orgasm on his tongue.

You moan, twisting in his grip, already starting to feel sensitive. You arch your back as you feel your second orgasm approaching, and you catch a glimpse of Logan.

He looks just as desperate as you must look, his face flushed, a light sheen of sweat covering his chest. His dick is standing tall and hard, the tip an angry red color, and his eyes look wild. His arms are taut from how much he’s pulling at his restraints.

You call out his name as you fall apart on Oscar’s tongue for a second time.

The Australian tilts his head up to look at the poor American bound to the chair. “Enjoying the show?” He asks, pushing his middle finger inside you. “Wish you could feel her right now?” He curls his finger up.

You whine, your hands gripping onto the bed sheets to ground yourself.

“She feels so good Lo.” Oscar moans as he pushes another finger in you. “I can see why you needed her so bad while I was gone.”

He sets a rough pace with his fingers, simultaneously pressing against your clit with his thumb.

“Os, ‘s too much!” You whine as you use a hand to push against him.

“I thought you wanted me baby? I’m giving you what you wanted.” He says, replacing his thumb with his lips, sucking harshly on your clit.

You cry out as your third orgasm suddenly hits you. You feel sore and tired, and watch with hazy eyes as Oscar pulls his fingers from you and sucks them clean.

“You taste so good.” He moans. He drops his other hand to hold himself, still tucked into his own pants. He pulls his shirt off, then his pants and boxers, and stares down at you with hunger in his eyes. He taps against your side. “Turn over.”

Your body feels heavy as you flip onto your stomach for him. You feel him grab onto your hips, pulling them up as he sits on his knees behind you.

“Think you can give me one more baby?” He asks.

He’d stop immediately if you couldn’t. If either you or Logan uttered the safeword, he would stop everything. You know that. But you know that he’s familiar with you and your limits. He knows your body, and what it can handle.

“Yes Oscar.” You whine.

“Good. I want you to look at Logan while I fuck you.” You feel the tip of his cock brush against your folds, collecting the cum from your previous orgasms.

He pushes in slowly, still making sure not to hurt you with his thrusts. He stops when you’re fully wrapped around him.

Your mouth hangs open as you look at Logan, who looks desperate for any sort of attention.

“Tell him how good it feels.” Oscar grunts as he begins thrusting into you.

“S-so good! It feels so good Lo!” You moan. You drop your head in pleasure, squeezing your eyes shut.

“No, no, no, you’re meant to look at him.” Oscar tells you. He pulls you up, so that your back is flush against his chest. He wraps one hand around your neck, softly pressing his fingers into your skin. His other hand drops down to play with your clit.

“You gonna cum again for us?” Oscar asks, his words teasing in your ear. “Be my good girl again?”

You can’t answer him, too far gone, drowning in pleasure. Your eyes water as you feel yourself clench down around his cock.

“I can feel you getting closer. Be a good girl for us. Cum.”

Your eyes roll back as your mouth drops open. You cry out as your hips roll desperately against Oscar’s.

“Good girl, good girl.” He pants.

You feel his cum shoot deep inside you as he holds your body to his.

You feel your body collapse in his arms as he pulls out, making you whine from the sensitivity. You look back up at Logan to see him also panting, his own release covering his stomach and chest.

“Why don’t you help Logan clean up?” Oscar nods towards Logan.

You get off the bed and drop to your knees in front of Logan to lick his cum off his body. He whines when you start to stroke his cock.

“This was meant to be a punishment baby.” Oscar says. “Logan can have his fun tomorrow.”

He gently lifts you up off the ground, laying back down on the bed, then walks back to Logan to untie him. He guides Logan to the bed, then goes to the bathroom. He comes back with a soft towel, and a small bottle of lotion. He gently wipes the remnants of your release from between your legs, then softly massages the lotion into Logan’s wrists.

He lays between you both once he’s put everything back in the bathroom, with an arm wrapped around each of you. Logan buries his face in Oscar’s neck with an arm thrown over his stomach, while you lay your head on his chest with a leg thrown over his.

“You both did so well for me.” He says softly, giving you each a kiss. “I did miss you two.”

“We missed you more though.” You smile into Oscar’s chest.

“Maybe we should act out more often if it’ll get a reaction like that.” Logan murmurs into Oscar’s neck.

“Don’t even think about it.” Oscar laughs.

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #poly loscar x reader #formula one x reader

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13uswntimagines · 5 days

Text

3 More Days (Alessia X Leah X Child!R)

part of the Big Emotions Universe. Set before Big Emotions and Cookies for Luck

Summary: It's your first World Cup. Your first time in Australia, and the first time you ever had to be away from your Mama thanks to the stupid FIFA rules. The truth is that neither of you are dealing with the separation well. You just need to make it 3 more days.

warnings: none. soft angst if you squint, otherwise it's just a cute kidfic.

You decided you did not like Australia.

You didn’t care if they had cute koalas, and a super cool aquarium, and people with cooler accents.

You didn’t care that Uncle Luca had taken you to meet a turtle named Irwin, or that he let you and Squirt pick out a new stuffed octopus friend (you and Squirt hadn’t decided on a name yet).

Australia was mean. Your mama was mean.

The stupid soccer rules that said you couldn’t stay in the shiny hotel with her were mean.

All of her teammates were mean.

You did not like Australia.

You frowned at the field, wiggling in your seat as the keepers jogged out of the tunnel for warmups.

You decided you did not like the World Cup either.

“Why the long face Tiny?” Uncle Luca asked you, adjusting your turtle jacket.

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and a little crinkle appeared between your eyebrows as Mary took her place in the goal in front of you. “No wike it,”

He hugged you, lifting you from your seat into his lap. “What don’t you like?”

You leaned back into his chest. Your little shoulders shrugged again. “No wike it,”

“Ok,” He sighed. “Do you want a cookie? So Mama has good luck against Australia?”

He pulled a small chocolate-covered cookie out of your turtle backpack, offering it to you.

Your nose scrunched as you pushed it away. “No wan it,”

You didn’t care that it was your favorite, the one with oranges in the middle. You didn’t want your mama to have good luck.

You just wanted to not be in Australia.

You wanted to be back in your apartment that Leah sometimes visited.

You wanted to not have to say bye to your Mama after the game.

“Alright tiny,” He said, slipping the cookie back into your backpack, and pulling you closer to him. “Hey look, Mama is coming,”

He hoped that seeing Alessia would pull you out of your funk.

You had been… moody, even for a 2-year-old, ever since you landed in Australia. You hadn’t been able to fly with the team, but Alessia and Luca ensured you got to see your Mama daily. And the days you couldn’t, Uncle Luca and Nona did their best to distract you with trips to places like the Aquarium, the Zoo, and the beach.

It seemed to work at first, but with each passing day, your smile dimmed, and your interest in their planned activities dwindled.

Even your favorite pastime, watching your mama play soccer, didn’t pique your interest.

Your eyes followed his hand, watching with halfhearted care as your mama finally emerged from the tunnel, chatting with your Aunt Ella and Lucy.

You waited for her to look up.

To wave to you like she always did.

But she didn’t.

You sunk back into Luca, your gaze drifting away from your mama, and towards Mary just as she dove for a save.

She caught the ball easily, rolling her shoulders as she stood, and glancing back towards the crowd who cheered behind her. She smiled when she saw your tiny form bundled in Luca’s lap, sending a wave your way.

You brightened considerably, lifting your hand in response, and nudging Luca.

“Mazza,” You mumbled, pointing towards the keeper.

“She’s pretty good, isn’t she?”

You blinked toward the new voice, taking in the sight of your second favorite person.

“Leah!”

You launched yourself towards the defender, uncaring of the fact that she was still on crutches. The force would have knocked her over had she not been standing against the guardrail.

“Hey Bug,” She said as you buried yourself in her neck, clutching her England jersey like you thought she would disappear.

Things had been difficult since she had torn her ACL and hadn’t been able to visit you and your Mama as much as she liked.

Her rehab was difficult and consumed her. It was why Alesia’s brother and mother had been tasked with caring for you during the tournament.

“Hey,” You mumbled back, keeping yourself tucked into her neck. “No go? Stay now?”

“Yeah Bug, I’m going to stay and watch the game with you,” She promised, rubbing your back. “We’re going to watch your Mama win,”

She shifted, settling into the chair next to your Uncle, and pulling you into her lap. You didn’t look up, ignoring when she waved towards your Mama and received a wave back in return.

You missed how Alessia stared at the two of you, and the unspoken conversation that passed between them.

The continuation of the conversations they had been having since before you left for Australia, and Fifa had announced the rules that banned children from the team hotels. Since Serina had reached out to make sure that You would be taken care of during the tournament.

A conversation that both women knew wasn’t over yet.

But warmups were not the time to continue it.

********

Leah was worried.

More than worried.

You were normally like a ray of sunshine. You followed a game with rapt attention, cheering, and booing like it was in your blood. You waved at the players you knew and got excited when they waved back, especially if it was mid-match.

Today, you just… didn't.

You seemed wilted. Tired.

You barely peeked out of her chest, even after the game had started.

“Hey look, they’re getting ready for a corner,” Leah said, bouncing you a bit as the teams set up in front of you.

You glanced up at her, both eyebrows raised. “Flying header?”

“Maybe,” Leah hummed, running a hand through your wild curls. “You’d have to watch to see,”

Your nose scrunched immediately.

“No wike it,” You grumbled, pressing yourself impossibly closer to Leah’s chest.

“What don’t you like bug?” She asked you, trying to coax you out of your hiding place.

“Elle is going to take the kick,” Luca added, nudging your arm, trying to get you to look.

You didn’t.

You whined loudly, clutching Leah’s jersey impossibly tighter in your little fingers.

They shared a look.

You were not a winy child.

You didn’t generally get fussy unless you were tired or sick.

“Ok bug,” Leah sighed as Elle lined up for the kick, raising her hand as the rest of the team jockeyed for position in front of goal. “It’s all ok,”

Elle’s foot hit the ball with a low thump, sending it flying in a perfect arch towards your Mama’s waiting head.

All it took was a perfect flick, and it was in the back of the net.

Alessia’s eyes immediately found the two of you as the stadium erupted.

She expected you and Leah to be cheering too. For you to be clapping and happy like you normally were any time she scored.

Instead, your face was buried in Leah’s neck, Lucas's hand rubbing your back.

She frowned, raising her eyebrow towards the pair.

Leah shrugged, rocking you gently.

Neither of them knew exactly what had upset you. Only that you apparently didn’t want or like whatever it was.

“Mama scored!” Luca cheered, rubbing your back more insistently.

You turned your head to blink at him.

“No want it,” You mumbled miserably, a contrast to the excitement still buzzing around you.

Leah sighed, gently scratching the back of your head. “I know bug. It’s ok,”

“Nooo!” You screeched, shaking your head, because she didn’t know. No one knew, and no one was doing anything about it.

They just kept telling you that it was ok.

It wasn’t ok.

“Ok, let’s take a walk tiny,” Luca scooped you out of Leah’s arms easily, already sensing the impending meltdown. “I think I saw a cool turtle shirt and a snack,”

It was becoming a twisted routine of sorts. You becoming frustrated and overstimulated, and Luca would take you for a walk to try and distract you from the big feelings you didn’t have words to explain.

Your hands twisted in his shirt and you tucked yourself into him, quieting more quickly than Leah thought you would.

“Nack,” You repeated.

“Yeah, let’s go get a snack,” Luca said, bouncing you gently. “We’ll bring one back for Leah too,”

He winked at the defender, as he headed up the stairs towards the concessions, and you peeked over his shoulder at her as he carried you away.

She sent you a little wave, smiling slightly when you waved back.

She hoped that things would look up for you now that she was here. She was by no means Alessia, but she had integrated nicely into your life since they had started dating (and she hoped the upcoming move to London would only strengthen the relationship you shared).

Hopefully, the familiarity and the plan her and Alessia had made would help to pull you out of your funk.

*******

“Hey love,” Leah sent Alessia a wide smile as she approached the Friends and Family section.

The game had ended in a neat 3-1 victory and Alessia had completed her mandatory lap around the field with the team.

Normally you liked to join her, holding her hand and playing with your aunts, but you hadn’t been waiting at the rail behind the bench with Luca like usual. She noticed that you hadn’t even been in the friends and family section.

Leah wrapped her in her arms as soon as Alessia helped her down onto the field. “Your goal was fantastic,”

“Thanks,” Alessia’s smile was half-hearted, exhaustion clear in her blue eyes as she supported the blonde who was still mom weight-bearing on her leg. “Where’s Bug?”

“Your brother disappeared with her to find a snack before halftime, and they haven’t come back yet,” Leah said, glancing in the direction the two of you had gone. “She’s having a hard time,”

Alessia followed her eyes with a sigh. “Beyond,”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so sullen,”

“It’s only getting worse, I think,” Alessia ran a frustrated hand through her hair, tugging lightly on her ponytail. “I don’t know how to fix it,”

Alessia had always been an incredibly involved parent. She had raised you herself, with a little help from Luca and her parents. She wasn’t used to being away from you for the night, much less days on end.

It broke her heart each time you cried when she had to say goodbye. And it killed her how you had retreated back into yourself with each passing day.

You had even started refusing phone calls with her so she could read you your bedtime stories.

It was clear that the Fifa restrictions were taking their toll on both of you, but she felt powerless to stop it.

Even Serina hadn’t been able to get her an exception.

Leah caught her hand, pulling it to her chest and drawing all of Alessia's attention back to her. The striker met the defender’s eyes, and warmth leached into her chest. It was something bright and safe.

It was the thing that had made Alessia fall in love with her to begin with. The thing that had allowed your mama to feel comfortable enough with Leah to introduce her to you.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Leah said, her voice sure and soothing. It made Alessia believe her. “I’m here to help,”

Alessia let out a shaky breath. “I don’t like being away from her,”

Leah pulled her closer, and she buried her face in Leah’s neck much like you did. “I know. We’ve only got one more game, and then we will be bringing the World Cup home,”

“Three more days, and then the FIFA rules don’t apply,” Alessia agreed, letting Leah’s words calm her. “We can make it 3 more days,”

“We can make it 3 more days,” Leah said, kissing Alessia’s forehead, just as Luca appeared with you at the top of the stairs. “Between Me, you, and Luca, she’ll make it 3 more days too,”

Alessia pulled away, glancing up the stairs. Her breath caught again when she saw you, clutching Squirt, a dark blue stuffed octopus and her brother for dear life at the top of the stairs.

You didn’t look out from your hiding place in his chest as she carefully made his way towards them.

She pulled away from Leah when he got to the rail, making sure she was stable on her crutches before reaching for you.

“Hey cuddle bug,” She sent you a blinding smile, reaching out for you. “Do you want to come down to the field?”

You peeked out at her as if you were contemplating the decision. You had never not willingly gone to her before.

It took you a long second before you shook your head and tucked yourself back into Luca’s chest. “No like it,”

Her shoulders drooped, and she had to fight to keep the corners of her lips from turning down. “Alright,”

It was like a dagger in her chest, deflating her and sending a sinking feeling through her stomach. It was a feeling of total failure.

She had failed you, and you didn’t want to go to her.

It was like an invisible wall of glass had erupted between you. Like there was a barrier she didn’t know how to pass keeping you from her. It was like she was the polar bear in the zoo that you had been too terrified to look at.

Leah rubbed her back, and Luca bounced you lightly, sending her a sympathetic look.

They just had to make it 3 more days.

She just hoped you could both hold on that long.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x reader #big emotions universe

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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months

Text

History Repeats

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Reader x Charles Leclerc

Rating: PG

Warnings: None, just some serious angst

Words: 2.4K

A/N: The last line of the ending sucks, ignore it, also love you @mariahcarreyyy

Synopsis: After the huge fight where Charles walks out leaving Sebastian, Sebastian can't help but follow Charles and you to Australia, but what happens when he sees something the reminds him of the past. Does history really repeat itself?

If Sebastian knew one thing, history has a habit of repeating itself. He never wanted to admit that it happens, but it does, and he should accept that. But Sebastian has never really admitted to anything he didn't want to.

He especially had to start admitting his wrongs when Charles became his teammate. He thought that being the eldest driver and the number one driver in Ferrari, Charles would back down and learn his place, and he did anything but that. He challenged Sebastian but didn't care if that was his idol; he would win no matter what. It's partially why Sebastian fell in love with the young Monégasque driver. He fell in love with the fire in his eyes, the way he'd go blank and innocent looking, how he loved and touched softly; Sebastian was smitten, and he hated it.

You loved teasing your husband about it and had no shame in telling him you loved Charles. Sebastian would grumble over the young man, and you'd watch. It was like him and Mark all over again. Before you and Seb dated, you were friends first, and you remember how complex Sebastian and Mark's relationship was. You never pried into what happened between them, but it didn't take a genius to see how they still looked at one another.

Sebastian didn't like that he fell for a teammate twice. He got far too comfortable and used to having two bodies beside him when he woke. But now, he was waking up alone in his home in Switzerland. He could still hear your soft sobs from that night. Charles took off his ring, left, and flew back to Monaco. You were going after him, telling Sebastian he needed to determine what was more important: where they lived or their marriage?

To Sebastian, it was an easy choice. Their marriage was far more significant than where they lived, but why couldn't it be both? He didn't want fans constantly in their face, shoving their phones in his baby's faces; he wanted the open air and peace living in the Swiss mountains where no one could find them. Was that too much to ask for? Sebastian just finally wanted peace in his retirement. But, he'd never get that being married to Charles, and honestly, he didn't like that peace; he wanted his husband next to him, wearing his ring.

The ring that's burning a hole in Sebastian's pocket.

You and Charles had no idea that Sebastian was flying to Australia. He hasn't been able to sleep since the fights, and he wanted to have you two back finally. Sebastian was going to get his family back. He didn't care if he outed them to the world. He just wanted Charles and you to know that his selfish matters meant nothing to him. He loved you two too much to throw it away over where to live.

"Y/n," Ollie pulls out the last part of your name, pouting as you fuss over the boy's hair. "Ollie, please, just sit still. It's a bird's nest." Charles chuckles at the two of you. You move away, and he reaches over, ruffling his hair. Ollie whines and slaps Charles' hand.

"Y/n, he messed it up." You turn and glare at Charles, who shrugs his shoulders. "He's lying," You narrow your eyes, and Ollie giggles. "Oo, someone is in trouble." You turn that glare to Ollie, who stops and quiets, and Charles laughs. For his age, Ollie was rather brilliant. He noticed your relationship with Charles and said he wouldn't know anything. "Ollie, Charles, stop it." You reprimand them, and Charles goes back to his phone.

You can't help but stare at his empty ring finger and the burning on your finger and clear your throat. Since you left four weeks ago, you haven't talked to Sebastian, and you were starting to think your relationship with your husband was over. But he called you yesterday, and you two talked it over. He had asked to talk to Charles, but Charles shook his head no and refused to acknowledge that Sebastian was begging to speak to him.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but don't forget you two have that cricket thing." Slyvia's red hair makes you three nod and smile, and she eyes you but doesn't comment and walks away. "Here," you hand Ollie his hat, and he smiles brightly at you and places his head on your stomach. "Thanks, Mom." You blush and shove him lightly, which makes him giggle, and Charles smiles.

"Come on, we better get going." Charles groans and stands up, stretching, and you admire the toned muscle shown from his shirt lifting. "I'm just a piece of meat to you, aren't I?" You snap out of your trance as Charles mushes up his hair, smirking at you. "A very hot, intelligent, beautiful, amazing husband," Charles freezes, and Ollie blushes, feeling like he's intruding, and bolts as Charles melts. It's been hard on him since leaving Sebastian; he misses the man he fell in love with.

"You're more than that, Charles. Just being very hot is a bonus," you finish, wrapping his arm around you; he pulls you close and peeks your lips, smiling. "I love you so much." He whispers, and you steal another kiss and hear loud Italian, both of you rushing out as Sylvia stops and glares. "We're going, we're going," Charles grumbles and gently pushes you into the soft, warm Australian air. Sylvia eyes you, and you wave Charles off and stare at her.

"You're here a lot without Sebastian." You feel your gut twist, wishing you could tell the world that you, Sebastian, and Charles were married, but the world, well, the F1 world, wasn't ready to accept that fact. "Yes, because Sebastian is busy, Syliva. I've known Charles for a long time; I don't need my husband here when I visit." You bite back, and Slyvia arches an eyebrow and sighs. "I've known for a while, Y/n, whenever you three are ready, we've got the statement ready." Her red hair burns you almost as she follows after Charles, and you stand there, breath tight.

"Y/n hurry, before Charles comes, drag you out himself!" Syliva yells, and you snap out of it and rush to the area where fans are screaming and trying to get Charles's attention.

Charles groans as he waves and smiles at everyone. "You alright?" Ollie asks, noticing how Charles looks around. "You ever miss someone so much that no matter what you're doing, you can't stop thinking about them?" Charles asks. Ollie stutters and clears his throat before nodding with a blush coating his cheeks.

Charles chuckles, pulls Ollie into a hug, and rubs his shoulder comfortably. "We'll be okay, kid," Ollie nods, and fans go crazy seeing this interaction. "Charles?" Ollie whispers, and Charles turns away from signing and leans in, as does Ollie. "You and Sebastian will be okay too," Ollie pulls away, smiles slightly, and runs away, leaving Charles to give him his soft smile. "Cute," Charles mumbles and goes back to signing.

Sebastian pulls his hat down and sighs in peace when fans in the paddock just move around him, not really caring who he is. It helps that he's wearing a Ferrari shirt with the last name Leclerc. Everyone assumed he was just a fan, not a 4x WDC. Hearing the screams, he smiles, seeing the crowd around the Ferrari hospitality.

Heading over the building, he stops seeing Charles holding a cricket racket and Ollie beside him. Scanning the crowd, he doesn't see you and moves closer, wanting to see what they are doing. Sebastian notices how Ollie is standing closer to Charles than normal. He tries hard not to read into it but stops when he sees the way Charles gives him a soft smile and gently explains something to the confused F2 driver.

Ollie blushes, and Charles reaches up, ruffling his hair. Like ice was injected into his veins, it was Deja Vu. When he started to fall for Charles, Sebastian always ruffled his hair and stayed close to him, not wanting to overwhelm the boy during media duties like this. Ollie says something, and Charles laughs loudly and smiles so brightly that Sebastian feels sick.

As if he could tell he was being watched, Charles's head snapped back, scanned the crowd, and stopped, staring at Sebastian. Seb slowly raises a hand to wave, but Charles moves and turns his back to Sebastian, returning to talking to Ollie. Sebastian jumps when he feels a hand on his arm and sees you standing before him. "Y/n," He breathes, going in for a kiss, but you stop him. "Not here, come on." You pull him through the crowd and shove him into the hospitality.

"What are you doing here, Sebastian?" He flinches at your harsh tone, almost like you're upset with him being here. "For you and Charlie, I'm here for you two." Looking down at his feet, the ring burning. "Seb," Your voice breaks. You didn't mean to get angry at your husband. All you felt was worry when you saw him standing in that crowd, worried that the fans would see him and it'd turn to chaos.

"He's gotten close with Ollie," You look up, seeing how Sebastian refuses to look you in the eye; you almost want to laugh but don't. "Yes, Ollie and he became close. Ollie really looks up to Charles." Sebastian scuffs and plays with the wedding ring on his finger. "Is…are they…ughn." Sebastian makes a weird noise in the back of his throat. Your heart rate spikes as your mind whirls through anything he could ask.

"Sebastian, do you think they're……Sebastian, the kid is 18!" You hiss, Sebastian scuffs, and you see an anger in his eyes you've never seen before. "So?! And Charles and I had an appropriate age difference? Honestly, Y/n, look me in the eye and tell me that Charles and I had an appropriate relationship." He says you look away because, in the end, you know if people knew of this relationship, they would disagree.

"Right, so you can see my worries. He looked right at me and ignored me. Fuck, maybe we really are over." The door slams open, and Charles stands there. Ollie is behind him as Charles stalks down the hall; you can feel the anger pulsing off of him. "Ollie, go find Carlos. I need to talk with my husband and wife." Ollie swallows, nods, and slips through you three; he could practically be running with how fast he was trying to get out of there.

Charles isn't able to get his words put before Sebastian accuses him. "Are you cheating on me?" Charles stands there, his anger deflating faster than a punctured tire. He stares at Sebastian, his eyes filling with tears, letting out a wet laugh. "That's why you're here? To accuse me of cheating? Not to work on us, but to accuse me of this? Fuck you." Charles whispers, shaking his head. "You didn't answer me," "Sebastian," You growl, but Sebastian just waves you off.

"You can't blame me for asking because look at how we started." It's such a slap in the face to Charles that he stumbles back. You were well aware of how they started: After a hard race, they looked for comfort in each other, which led to one thing. Sebastian didn't tell you immediately that he was sleeping with his teammate, but you didn't tell him that you and Charles were falling in love. "You ignored me when you saw me, Charles, immediately you turned to Ollie. You didn't even smile." Seb hisses, his anger overwhelming him.

"I WAS PROTECTING YOU!" You flinch at Charles yelling. "I was protecting you, goddamit Sebastian. You were surrounded by 100 fans; what would've happened if they noticed you were there. You, haha." Charles laughs, pulling at his hair. You move to comfort him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he stares at Sebastian.

"I love you, you and Y/n. The only two people I've ever truly loved, and here I was thinking, you….you throw that back in my face. I love you, I love you," Charles repeats, trying not to break down. "Charlie, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," Sebastian whispers and reaches out of him. Charles sobs and moves away from you, crumbling into Sebastian's arms. You sniffle and blink fast; they had a love you'll never understand, just the same between you, Sebastian, and Charles. You each love each other in a way you'll never understand.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say those things. I'm scared of losing you. I can't lose you." Sebastian whispers, Charles whimpers and buries himself deeper into Sebastian's hold. "You won't lose me, Sebby, I promise." You wipe your eyes as Sebastian looks up at you and holds his arm out. Moving, you join them as Charles takes deep breaths; Sebastian still smells of fresh air and damp wood. It was his favorite smell.

"I don't care where we live, I don't care if we're poor or rich, they're our babies, and you'll be there with me. I don't care as long as we're together. I should've said that, who the fuck cares. I just want you two. Don't leave me." Sebastian whispers.

"Do you have my ring?" Charles pulls back, and Sebastian nods fast, fumbling as he pulls out the little gold band. Charles's empty finger itches to regain the familiar weight. "I didn't mean to take it off. I was just so angry, I couldn't…." Charles's voice falls off as Sebastian grips his face, kissing him gently. Charles blushes like he is still that 20-something-year-old being kissed for the first time.

"Promise me something?" You pull away and wipe your eyes, all 3 of you looking a mess. "Anything," They both blurt and chuckle as you giggle. "Promise me that we won't do this again; we can't. I can't handle being tugged back and forth. We need to talk to each other; it doesn't matter how hard it is or if it angers us; we can't go through this again. Because, well," You trail off, and Sebastian's mouth drops open.

"No, oh my god." His voice is airy as he tries not to cry for a different reason. Charles chuckles and shakes his head. "Explains the weird pickles, peanut butter, and ice cream snacks." You slap his chest, and Sebastian moves to scoop you up, as you laugh and Charles chuckles. "I love you, I love the both of you so much."

Everything really would be okay.

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neos127 · 2 months

Text

SWIM — SIM JAEYUN

sim jake x fem!reader genre. friends to lovers, fluff cw. suggestive, borderline smut lowk lol wc. 1.8k notes. y’all i cannot write kiss scenes im so sorry

‘the water's getting colder, let me in your ocean, swim’

The lights on the pool walls illuminated the blue water while reflecting onto Jake’s pretty face. He swam around the pool happily, his eyes gleaming and his lips pulled into a small smile. You watched him from the edge, kicking your feet lightly in the glowing water. Jake begged you to join him earlier, but you denied, not wanting to get in with your sweatpants and t-shirt.

“It’s our last night together and you’re not gonna join me?” Jake whined, looking at you with his infamous puppy dog eyes. He knew that you were unable to resist them, so he typically used that to his advantage when he wanted something.

You, being a childhood best friend of Jake’s, had visited him for one of Enhypen’s tour stops. You had been vacationing in LA around the same time of the concert and Jake knew that he couldn’t pass on the opportunity to see you again. It had been a couple months since you two last reconnected in Korea and he had missed you more than he’d like to admit. Your soft giggles and electrifying touches often occupied his mind late at night so to experience it in person again, Jake was sure he was on cloud nine.

“I don’t want my sweatpants to get all wet. It’ll be uncomfortable.” You mumbled, pretending to pick lint off the fabric so you were looking at something other than Jake’s intense gaze. It’s as if he wanted for you to fall even deeper in love.

“You can take them off.” He suggested, smirking when you gasped and splashed water in his face. The idea was highly suggestive and you didn’t expect such words to come from the boy. Others would’ve assumed that Jake suggested the idea innocently, but the glint in his eye said otherwise. Knowing Jake since you both were climbing playgrounds made it easy to catch all of his tells. It was impossible for him to lie to you, and it was also hard for him to say one thing when he meant something totally different and you not catching on.

Jake knew that, which gave him the confidence he needed to finally make you his.

“I’ll take off my shirt if that makes you feel better.” He spoke up, tugging on the black tank top he wore. Your eyes widened slightly at the suggestion. You hadn’t seen Jake without a shirt since the two of you were splashing in the ocean waters back in Australia. Of course you hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, only focused on hanging out with the boy you called your best friend.

But now— seeing Jake slowly pull the article of clothing off his body made your mind travel to terrible places. You tried to convince yourself that he was only your friend and that having such thoughts about him was wrong. But the way his muscles flexed due to his movements made any logic you had fly straight out the window.

“You um…you don’t have to do that.” You choked out nervously, watching as Jake swam over to you, shirt long disposed of on the side of the pool.

“I just wanted to make you feel more comfortable. But if you don’t want to, that’s okay.” Jake replied, giving you a reassuring smile. You couldn’t help but smile back at him, his grin infectious as always and of course he had been very thoughtful. Jake never forced you into anything, or made fun of you for not joining in on his festivities. That’s why you felt so drawn to him, he just seemed to care about you more than anything.

“No, I’ll join you.” You decided, standing up from the edge of the pool. As soon as you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt, Jake turned away to give you some privacy (and hoping to hide his flushed face). You then took off your sweatpants before immediately jumping into the pool, scared that someone would see you. It was one in the morning so that wasn’t very likely, but you hoped if anyone did happen to walk out that they would assume your underwear was simply a bathing suit.

You swam over to Jake, tapping him on the shoulder so he could turn around. As soon as he did, he kept his eyes on yours, knowing that you would catch him if he tried to let them wander somewhere else. Jake sucked in a breath, suddenly wishing that he hadn’t suggested the idea of you joining him. He wanted to focus on your eyes, he really did, especially when you were explaining how amazing your trip had been. But the way your boobs sat so perfectly in your bra was making Jake’s mind go haywire. He swore he couldn’t focus on anything else, not catching any of the words falling from your pretty lips.

“Jake, hey! Stop looking down there, you freak.” You scolded the boy, suddenly feeling self conscious under his gaze. You knew that he wasn’t judging you, he would never. But his gaze looked almost hungry, and that made you feel slightly insane.

“I swear I wasn’t being weird I was just…admiring your bra color, is that burgundy?” He lied right through his teeth. You slapped his hand away when he reached out to touch you, laughing at the ridiculousness of his answer. If there was one thing you definitely knew about Jake, he couldn’t lie for shit.

“Yeah, yeah. Can we just swim now?” You asked shyly, making Jake nod with excitement. He tried his best to ignore the growing desire he felt settling in his stomach, and it worked once the two of you engaged in a splash war. It felt nice to hang out with Jake, you missed all of the quality time you would spend together back in Korea. He never failed to make you laugh with his dorky jokes and you were positive you hadn’t felt so happy since you last hung out.

“I’m getting bored, we should go back in.” You commented after about an hour, observing your fingers that had shriveled up like raisins. Jake whined, pouting once more at your words.

“C’mon, just a little bit longer. I mean, how can you ever get bored with that view?” Jake asked, pointing to the gorgeous skyline in front of the hotel. You sighed and shook your head, knowing that you weren’t planning to leave against his wishes. Jake just had that kind of hold on you.

“What more is there for us to do in here?” You asked, mentally going over all of the games you both played along with pausing to rest against the ledge and catch up with each other. Jake watched as you slowly ran your hands through the water, waiting for his answer. The boy felt awe struck for a second, observing your pretty features and body that he so desperately wanted to see twitching against him and covered with marks from his mouth.

As soon as you looked up from the water and met Jake’s gaze, he finally felt the confidence to act on his urges. Jake moved closer and reached over grab your waist, making you shiver at the contact. You hadn’t expected Jake to be so bold, but you weren’t complaining.

“I can think of a few things.” Jake said in a singsong voice, watching as your eyes widened slightly and your breathing began to pick up. Your chest moved up and down rapidly, causing Jake to look down again. He held back a groan, his shorts feeling tighter and tighter as he waited for your reply.

“What-what if someone sees?” You stuttered, suddenly feeling very warm in Jake’s grasp. He moved even closer to you, his nose rubbing against yours. You gulped, closing your eyes in anticipation. You hoped that Jake couldn’t feel your rapid heartbeat— but he could probably tell how nervous you were as it had been quite obvious.

“We’re not going to get caught, I promise you. But if you don’t want this, I’ll let you go. Don’t be afraid to tell me what you want.” Jake said, his eye contact making you feel dizzy. You didn’t say anything, running your hands through Jake’s wet hair before pulling him into a kiss. About an hour ago you would have never been so bold, but with the dark look in Jake’s eyes and the way his hands caressed your skin, you concluded that he felt the same way.

Jake groaned against your mouth, closing the already tight distance between your bodies. This kiss was feverish and desperate, with your hands intertwining deeper into Jake’s hair and his gripping your body hard enough to leave a bruise. You felt your mind short-circuit, your stomach twisting as Jake’s lips molded against yours. The moment was perfect, and his kiss felt even better than anything your imagination could conquer up.

Jake ran his tongue across your bottom lip, making you whine against his mouth and open yours to him. The kiss became sloppier as your tongues overlapped each other with urgency, and you moved your hands to lightly tug on Jake’s hair. He let out a soft moan against your mouth before grabbing your thighs and making you wrap your legs around his waist. Your body was flush against his and it became easy to feel how aroused he was.

“J-ake, w-wait.” You gasped out, suddenly becoming very aware of what you two were doing.

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me that you don’t want me and I’ll back up right now.” Jake sighed against your mouth, his hold on you still tight. You didn’t want him to leave, his warmth and pillowy lips were absolutely intoxicating. Jake seeing you at such a state was just a bit intimidating and it also meant that the two of you needed a long talk on where you stood with each other. Best friends certainly didn’t makeout and grind on each other in a pool. But Jake looking at you with such desire pushed any doubts and fears you had into the back of your head.

Oh fuck it.

“Please, don’t stop.” You whispered, barely letting the boy get a word out before your lips were on his again. Jake let out a low whine, the sound traveling straight to your gut and where you needed him the most. Suddenly detaching his lips from yours and leaving a messy trail of spit, Jake began to move his head down to your neck. You let out an airy moan, your hips snapping against his in response. Jake let out a choked sound against your skin before continuing the assault on your neck and meeting his hips with yours.

“Feels good?” He asked, continuing to lick and suck on all of your weak points. He seemed so skilled at the act, his teeth nipping your neck followed by his tongue gently sweeping over the sore spot.

“Yeah.” You sighed, watching as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when he fingers slowly slipped past the band of your underwear. You already looked incredibly fucked out which amused Jake considering he hadn’t touched you yet.

“By the way, don’t hold back. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you make.” Jake said before moving your underwear to the side. You nodded and a shaky breath left your lips, making the boy chuckle and kiss your cheek to help calm your nerves.

“Good girl.”

dts; @junityy for listening to me rant about this fic nonstop and @en-fvr for helping me with the makeout scene lol anddd @jaeyunverse who wanted a tag i love u guys

#enha x reader #enha imagines #enha fluff #enha reactions #enhypen imagines #jake x reader #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #sim jake x reader #sim jake imagines #enha jake #enhypen jake #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun imagines #enha smut #enhypen suggestive

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your-regular-toast-enjoyer · 1 year

Text

Yandere! Batfam x Reader

Batfam x reader or Batfam/reader

Yandere Batfam x reader or Yandere Batfam/reader

Word count: 8639 words

TW: GN reader, adult Damian Wayne, mentions drugs, yandere, neglect, angst and kidnapping.

You were Bruce’s youngest child, a year younger than Damian and several years younger than the rest. You were simply the result of a hookup on one of Bruce’s many business trips, it might’ve been to Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia or even just somewhere else in America. The point is, you didn’t grow up in Gotham until the age of thirteen when your mother died in a violent car crash, one in which you had also been involved.

You had sat for hours in the backseat, slowly seeing your mother’s life drain from her eyes as the fire brigade did their best to cut their way into the car. It had all been for nought though, with her dying before the paramedics even arrived. You were physically fine except for some deep cuts and bruises, but your mother’s abdomen had been pierced as a drunk driver of a flatbed lorry carrying steel poles had backed violently into your car, sending the metal sticks flying straight towards your vehicle. One of the poles had gone through the window and hit your mother. It was a gruesome sight, so vile that you threw up several times as you were hauled out of the wreck.

Legally, you were supposed to go to your father, even if your mother’s parents, possible siblings or someone else were willing to take you, the law demanded that it’d be your father who took you. Bruce had signed your birth certificate, he wasn’t unaware of your existence, and he had since your birth sent monthly child support to your mother, but that was all you really were to him up until that point; A negligible extra expense.

It wasn’t that Bruce disliked you when you came to the manor. You were simply a scared kid who had just lost their mother and was deeply grieving. He had dealt with plenty of those. He had just been busy… He obviously had his obligations as Bruce Wayne: CEO duties, public image and bundles of paperwork, but it was more so his obligations as Batman and to his other children, which pulled him away from you when you first came into his home. Damian, especially, took up most of his time. Not only did the two of them constantly train for protecting the city, thus developing a closer bond than you’d ever have with either of them, but Bruce was also very aware of how Damian’s childhood at the league weighed down on him mentally, so, he kept him close, let him vent his frustrations and slowly but surely get over his trauma.

From the very beginning, you became the forgotten child:

Dick was always so focused on Damian, singing his praises and always taking care of him. He usually forgot to even greet you whenever he visited the manor for a week or two, often going “Oh! I haven’t seen you all this time! Well, bye to you too Y/n”, whenever he left. Whenever the oldest brother was visiting, you’d stand in the doorway to the living room, observing with stinging eyes as he embraced Damian like the boy mattered more than the entire world. You had forgotten how it felt to actually matter that much to someone. You wondered if you ever had. Why you tortured yourself with watching the two, you didn’t know, perhaps because you longed to be in Damian’s position? You weren’t even sure yourself. The reason probably didn’t matter, as your forced your eyes to stay on the two, only leaving when you could feel silent tears run down your cheeks.

Jason was the friendliest, not particularly caring for Damian and Bruce either, often calling the green-eyed boy “Demonspawn”, which you’d laugh loudly at, only to be sent to your room by Bruce for upsetting Damian. Jason understood though, usually going to your room to hang out with you and listen to your stories, unlike everyone else. He came to adore you. Damian might’ve been Dick’s favourite sibling, but you were Jason’s. Since Damian was called “Babybird”, Jason called you “Tiny tweet”, even though you didn’t hold the title of Robin. You loved the times when Jason was there, he made you finally feel understood and heard. Unfortunately, Jason was at the manor even less than Dick, (who spent 90% of his time in Blüdhaven), since he couldn’t stand the sight of Bruce for longer than an hour every other month. So, the brief moments of reprieve the second oldest offered were few and far between, still leaving you isolated most of the time.

Tim barely spared you a glance, too busy with his own school, vigilantism and friends. He appreciated that you weren’t annoying like Damian, who’d constantly attack him, thus automatically bringing you above the little devil on Tim’s tier list of family members… however, Damian was at the very bottom, which didn’t make it a great achievement. If you ever tried to converse with Tim, he’d dismiss you with a wave of his long bony hand, telling you to find someone else to chit-chat with. You stopped your attempts at befriending the middle child after a handful of unsuccessful tries, barely seeing him after that. As a matter of fact, whenever you tried to visualise a picture of Tim, it was the image of his slim dismissive hand which appeared. You had forgotten if his hair was black or dark brown, if his eyes were light blue or grey or if his nose had a bump or not. He bordered on becoming a personal myth to you; You knew he existed in a far-off world, but he wasn’t within your orbit.

Damian was at first fearful that you’d take his place, bullying you, physically harassing you and bringing up your mother until you were left wailing on the floor. When you told Bruce though he’d always tell you to, “Be the bigger person, Damian has been through a lot”. You wished you could have fought against your youngest brother, but not only was he older and stronger than you, but he was also a trained assassin and vigilante. You stood no chance. When Damian realised that you were no threat to his position, he left you alone, avoiding talking to you and interacting with you on the basis that you simply didn’t matter to him. He had actually once accidentally told a teacher that he only had three siblings, not realising that he had forgotten about you until he was on his way home, replaying the conversation in his head. Damian might’ve once tried to become closer to you after Alfred had given him a long spiel about how “family is important”, but quickly realised that you trusted him less than the thieves in Crime Alley, and so he abandoned the idea.

Bruce didn’t mean to ignore you, it was purely accidental, but he had on multiple occasions forgotten your birthday and even once failed to remember buying you any Christmas presents, leaving you as the only Wayne child with no gifts that year, to which you had simply muttered something along the lines of, “Of course”, not in a vengeful or angry way, instead in a resigned and understanding tone, before going back to your room that night and not leaving until a day or two later. Alfred had scolded him for that occurrence, there wasn’t really anything he could’ve said in his defence and even Dick had looked at him with disgust as they all took in the image of you standing there, alone, surrounded by gifts that weren’t for you. It had been a striking visual, yet not enough to make Bruce change his ways. It wasn’t that he held any animosity towards you, you were simply just air to him, he had no idea where you were at any given time or who you were, sometimes he even forgot your face.

Alfred was a kind man, an understanding man. However, just like Bruce, he also had others to worry about, and the more isolated you became in your behaviour, the less able he was to spend time with you. Not only that, but he also refused to hear you talk badly of any of your brothers, and even Bruce was off the table if you felt like complaining. Alfred was a sweet and patient man, but to you it felt as if he had lost the plot, as if he didn’t understand how badly you were treated, because his love for the others blinded him, making him an unfortunate enabler of your torment. Alfred was only really good for giving you a biscuit/cookie when you sat in the kitchen, apathetically staring into a wall, for venting your frustrations, however? He was useless.

Your father neglected to handle your trauma. However, somehow, in his messed up brain, he reasoned that any trauma which was vigilante-related could somehow be considered worse as it was on a much larger scale than a single individual losing their mother. This made you grow resentful of both Damian and your father, the careful way Bruce would adapt everything to fit Damian’s wants and needs, disregarding yours, slowly lit a fire within you, a fire which burned with hatred towards them both.

I could see you wanting to join the vigilante life when you’re perhaps fifteen. You had watched the others train for years and would often sneak into the bat cave after dark to train yourself. You were good, really good, so you decided that you might as well start doing actual vigilante work. You did realise that you hadn’t quite reached a fighting level where that’d be a good idea, so you decided to find a more seasoned mentor. A slight detail, which would become important. Your father didn’t have the time to teach you. So who did you call up? That’s right! Jason.

Jason was reluctant to take you under his wing, at first. He even came to the manor to convince you that vigilantism wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. However, after pouring your bleeding heart out to the only brother who cared, he accepted, still apprehensive though.

Jason started his training from the top, getting into the basics swiftly. You got it down faster than he had at first thought, being an astoundingly quick-learner, something which the red-masked vigilante attributed to having Wayne blood in your veins. After locking down all the groundwork within a year or so, it was time to start your specialisation; Choice of weapons, fighting style and general tactics were all next. While training with Jason, you slowly moved into the spare room in his apartment. It wasn’t like you had a bunch of things to move, but what little you had, Jason helped transport from the manor to his primary safehouse.

When Jason considered you ready, you started working as his shadow sidekick. Never known by the vigilante community at large, but definitely a secret menace to Gotham’s criminals. Jason did a good job of keeping your vigilantism a secret After your first three years of training, you completely stopped visiting the manor, even on holidays. You were technically a legal adult now and felt no obligation to stick around a house whose inhabitants had made it clear that you were unwelcome.

No one except Alfred knew that you had completely left for the first long while, with him being the only one you had bid farewell to. The old butler refused to tell Bruce until the man noticed himself. That day would come approximately four months after you stopped coming to the manor, on Christmas eve:

Damian had been the one to notice your absence secondly, after Alfred. He commented on it during the Christmas family dinner, one which Bruce only held for his sons' sakes, and where the only two not attending were Jason and you. Even Dick was there, on a visit from Blüdhaven, spry and jolly around his favourite younger sibling. Damian.

“Where’s L/N?” The green-eyed man had questioned loudly. Silence followed. Bruce took a look around, you weren’t there. They all knew that Jason wouldn’t be attending, he had declined Bruce’s requests every year since his resurrection, instead opting to go to Roy’s place. A lump formed in Bruce’s throat, yet he didn’t know why. “Damian, can you go get them down? They probably didn’t hear that dinner was served”, Dick requested kindly with a smile on his lips. The man in question would’ve usually complained, but since it was his eldest brother who asked, he got up wordlessly. Conversation at the table resumed, with Alfred biting his lips in contemplation. ‘Should he have informed Bruce of your absence, even though he knew you were at Jason’s?’ ‘Perhaps’, he concluded, deciding to keep silent about the whole matter, it was unfair to you. You had moved on, and even if he missed you terribly, it was not his place to demand your return. A piercing “What!” Stopped all the chatter at the table. Damian came barrelling back into the dining room, grabbing the side of the door with a tight knuckle to stabilise himself. “Their room is completely empty! All their stuff is gone! The only things left are the bed and closet!”

Bruce had stood up immediately, his chair colliding with the ground behind him as he brushed by Damian, entering your room, his son had been right. Your room was empty. None of the posters you had brought with you from your life with your mother, no papers lying scattered around and no other signs of use. As Bruce looked closer at the remaining furniture, he found that a thick layer of dust coated every surface. The room was as empty as when you arrived as a child and something in Bruce’s stomach dropped. “Y/n!” He called out. No reply. Soon, the entire manor was looking for you, even Alfred pretended to do so as well, his guilt of knowing eating him up from the inside. None of them found you, you had vanished without a trace.

Somehow, your perceived disappearance became the thing to snap your family’s collective consciousness. All hyped up by each other’s worry and driven into a frenzy. Bruce believed that you had gotten kidnapped or ran away, and it scared him. The thought of his negligence having brought you to extremes was like a spear through his heart, switching something on in his brain. He ordered his available sons to scour the entire city of Gotham to find you, completely forgetting about Christmas and leaving only Alfred behind to stay at the manor, in case you returned on your own. Bruce also ensured that most rooms in the manor were lit, like a lighthouse showing you home. Meanwhile, you and Jason were celebrating the holidays at Roy’s place in Star City, oblivious to what was taking place in all the major cities. You were playing with Lian as the two men chatted about old times and the poor quality of the beer they were drinking; Roy had let you two stay for a few days, so Jason could properly enjoy the festivities without thinking of his alcohol percentage as he was the designated driver. None of you had any idea of the ruckus going on only a few cities away.

It was after this Christmas that the family changed irreversibly. Suddenly, your safety became their top priority. Spear-headed by Bruce, who had a borderline existential crisis as he believed there was an equal chance of you being dead in a ditch somewhere and you being tortured by some rogue. Bruce was overtaken by guilt and challenged this feeling into pure rage as he beat up henchmen and rogues within an inch of their lives, believing them to have somehow connected you to Batman. They hadn’t and were entirely unaware of why the bat was so obsessed with this one person. Were you perhaps vital in an ongoing detective case? Or did Bruce Wayne tip him off to be extra vigilant when finding his youngest? They had no clue.

Well, obviously, Christmas was ruined. When all of the batboys and their father returned home empty-handed, they were in no mood for celebrations. Tim simply sat in a chair, lamenting, as he stared into a wall with something akin to resignation, running calculations in his head of where you could have possibly gone, before heading for the cave to view the security footage as far back as he had stored. Bruce and Damian refused to simply stop looking for the night, not staying long at the manor before they started searching other cities, making some of their vigilante friends aware of the situation. After staying in the nearest bathroom, and regaining control of his emotions, Dick joined his youngest brother and father in their quest for searching other cities. Bruce went to Metropolis, Damian to Central City and Dick to Blüdhaven. They had planned that they would each scour a city tonight and one the night after, it would be impossible to find you during the day, as there were way too many people wandering the streets. Alfred still remained silent, he didn’t think it was fair of them to bring you back, not with the way they had treated you and not when you had clearly left of your own volition.

Bruce had informed his closest friend, Clark Kent, of your disappearance, with the alien immediately insisting on aiding in the search. “It’ll be quicker if we both look at the same time!” Clark had yelled determined through the phone, his southern drawl helping to calm Bruce’s nerves, if only slightly. That was how not only Batman but also Superman started patrolling the streets of Metropolis, in search of a single person, you. Jon too wanted to aid in the search and offered Damian to take over looking in Central city, so he could look somewhere else instead, thus covering more ground, Damian agreed and went to Coast city.

As the news spread to the citizens of these cities that the Supers and the Bats had teamed up to look for one of Bruce Wayne’s missing kids, it became the talk of everyone’s dinner tables. News channels ran multiple stories about it, despite it being Christmas, being hyped up in no small part thanks to Lois Lane, whose heart went out to the Waynes for losing someone so close to them. The story had slowly morphed from you having run away voluntarily, to you having been kidnapped as a ransom. Everyone who heard of your story believed it to be a tragedy committed by someone who couldn’t even hold up the sanctity of the holiday spirits.

Back at home, Tim reviewed all of the security footage and went as far back as four months, that was when he saw you exit the manor with multiple boxes in your arms, loading them into a red lorry. He kept looking at you walking back and forth for a while until a well-known presence stepped out of the vehicle. Jason. Tim stood still, you hadn’t just moved out of the manor, you had moved in with Jason. You had moved in with the second oldest brother, and neither of you had bothered to inform anyone! Tim seethed, he wasn’t mad at you, no, he could never be. But Jason, the mere thought of him now made Tim’s blood boil. He believed that his brother had borderline kidnapped you away from them. His ire intensified when he saw Jason enter the manor and come out with more of your stuff packed into boxes. That was enough evidence for Tim to conclude that Jason must’ve forced you to move out, that it really hadn’t been your choice at all… Skillfully ignoring how none of the people in the manor had ever given you a reason to stay, let alone noticed that you had been gone for over four months.

However, knowing that you were with Jason made him able to conclude that you were likely in one of his safehouses or spending your Christmas with his best friend Roy, those two were inseparable, after all. He decided that he would look through Jason’s safe houses, then he called up Damian, “Go to Roy Harper’s place and look for Y/n. They’re with Jason.” Tim’s voice was dark, foreboding and it even made Damian’s hairs stand straight. Truly the stuff of nightmares. Tim explained the situation to both Dick and Bruce afterwards, as he glided through the air from safe house to safe house. Letting the two know that he had sent Damian after you and that they could come home now. Even if Tim currently held the desire to puncture Jason’s lungs for taking you away from them… away from him, he knew his older brother would never let anything happen to you. You were weak in his mind, and in the rest of the family’s mind too. Perhaps they would’ve worried less if they knew of your vigilante training… or maybe not. Vigilantism is dangerous, after all.

When Roy had turned on the TV briefly, you had all been bombarded with news of your disappearance. Your apathetic face from your last high school photo was plastered on every news network, big and small. News of an all-out search party with multiple vigilantes involved was outlined in great detail. Both Jason and you looked at each other with a mix of concern and confusion. It had been four months since you had last been at the manor, Alfred knew of your departure, what were they doing?! Lian had thankfully been put to bed, none of you wanted her to view the panic that crossed all three of your faces. “What the heck are they up to?” Roy questioned no one in particular. “It’s probably a façade, someone might have noticed that ‘Bruce Wayne’ was down one child and now he needs to find me to assure them that I’m not dead. It wouldn’t be a good look to have multiple children die in your custody. No offence Jay”, you postulated, it was a far reach but still the best explanation you could come up with. Jason had agreed with your assessment, giving you a light smack to the back of your head for mentioning his death. He wasn’t mad, but he always joked that it was a sensitive subject.

The three of you tried to come up with solutions to the problem at hand when you were interrupted by an impatient knock on the door. “I’ll get it”, Roy muttered. Making his way out of the living room, where you had previously stood, and towards the entrance. The moment he turned the lock, the door was swung open by whoever was on the other side, the wooden frame just barely missing Roy’s face. Heavy footsteps made their way towards the living room. Roy barely had the time to realise who it was before they were gone, striding towards where you were.

“Damian?!” You exclaimed, confused. The green-eyed man stood in front of both Jason and you, wearing his full Robin costume. You wondered how he had gotten here so quickly, the news mentioned how he’d been to both Central City and Coast City, both were relatively far away from your current location. “I’ve come to take you home, Y/n. We have been worried for your safety and I see that Todd took full advantage of your little outburst.” Damian’s voice was spiteful, Tim had managed to fuel his ever-latent anger and direct it towards Jason. You tried to rebuke your youngest brother, but Jason stepped in front of you, ready to defend you against the green-eyed menace, “As if! They’re not going back with you, just to end up being ignored by everyone again! Just because Bruce needs his public image to be clean, doesn’t make it their problem! So run along, Demonspawn!” Damian did not take well to refusal, let alone Jason’s uncalled-for name-calling.

Damian marched past the taller man and straight towards you. As he tried to grab your forearm, he was thwarted as you defended yourself, blocking his arm and throwing him to the ground. Damian was shocked and Jason was grinning like a proud father. Roy came strolling in at the same time, having checked on Lian’s safety, no problems there. “What did you teach them?!” Damian screamed at Jason, blaming him for your newfound strength. “Everything, they’re a vigilante. I’m not gonna send them out on the streets without knowing how to defend themselves.” The second oldest brother swung an arm around your shoulders as you stood still, giving Damian a look that promised nothing good.

Well, this was unacceptable to Damian, who had silently called for reinforcement, filming your entire interaction so far on a gadget connected to his chest plate. When Bruce heard Jason’s words, he felt yet another stone sink to the bottom of his abdomen, he had let you become a vigilante, his little Y/n… No, this would not do. All of them agreed on this. Once they had you again, they all decided that anything vigilante-related would be kept out of your reach. While both Dick and Bruce were flattered that you’d share a career path with them, they could not accept the danger it brought you in.

It didn’t take long for Damian’s request to be honoured, as Bruce and the boys took a zeta tube to Star City and immediately went to Roy’s. It took no more than twenty minutes, with Damian engaging in a violent screaming match with Jason, accusing him of kidnapping you, of forcing you to play his mock Robin just to spite your shared father and of many more heinous crimes, which the green-eyed man covered your ears for, despite your attempts to get him to stop touching you. When a barrage of impatient knocks sounded on Roy’s door for the second time, he didn’t open it. Instead, he opted for locking Lian’s bedroom door and grabbing his bow as well as a handful of arrows, which he had reverse-engineered from Oliver’s original ones, aiming one at the entrance.

Of course, none of the dark-haired men on the other side waited for Roy to feel charitable enough to invite them into his home, as Dick harshly kicked the door in, wooden splinters spreading across the entrance hall’s floor. “What the hell are you doing in my home!” Roy screamed, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Lian. His bow was still pulled tight, an arrow aimed at the newcomers as a threat to not tread further into his flat. “Calm down, speedy. I will replace your door. I’m here to bring my youngest home”, Bruce muttered as he tried to enter the living room, only to be stopped by an arrow flying just past his nose. “Do not take another step. You are intruders”, Roy seethed, orange strands of hair swaying in the air as he made his way in front of the bat trio of Dick, Tim and Bruce.

Bruce was almost surprised by Roy's violent reaction. Almost. He was obviously quite aware of the redhead’s close bond with his second oldest, who had in turn evidently been closer to you than he had ever thought. You had moved in together, after all. Bruce did not blame Jason like Damian and Tim, instead, he simply saw it as an accentuation of his own failings as a father. Still, it was a very serious action to threaten the Batman, the very implications of which stunted both Bruce and Tim for just a moment. Dick wasn’t, however, immediately turning on his trusted secret weapon, skilful manipulation.

With slow steps, Dick managed to get right in front of the archer, putting a caring hand on his shoulder. “Roy. Surely, as a father, you of all people must understand why Bruce wants his child back. Y/n and he needs to mend their relationship. For Y/n. Imagine how they’ll feel years in the future when they have no father to turn to? They have the chance to get a real security net, something which I know you always wanted at their age. Surely, you must realise that just you and Jason can’t be enough… Not to go into too much detail, but the two of you haven’t been known to be the most… how would you put it… reliable? Stable? …clean?” Dick’s mention of Roy’s former substance problems broke his initial apprehension. Between Jason, you and him, it was a topic that was never mentioned, it brought back doubts and was probably his second biggest insecurity, his biggest one being… “Imagine if Y/n was Lian? You would want her to have a father, wouldn’t you? Of course, you do! That’s why you stayed. Y/n needs a father too, and not just that they need all of their brothers at their side, Jason can’t stand in for a father. Surely, you would know.” Dick continued. It was a dirty trick to mention Lian, but it worked as Roy lowered his bow, stepping aside for the Waynes to enter the room where Damian and Jason were currently in a screaming match.

Once Jason saw his other brothers and Bruce, he ripped you away from Damian and tried to push past them, holding your hand protectively and tight. It didn’t work, however, as Tim was quick to stun his older brother with a taser, right after Dick had tugged you securely into his latex-covered chest. You didn’t quite know what happened after that, Dick pried your lips and teeth apart, dropping a little round tablet on your tongue, before immediately shifting his hand to cover both your mouth and nose. Shifting the pill around in your mouth to not swallow it, while you tried to kick him away, did absolutely nothing. Dick was stronger and a greater fighter than you’d ever be, your attempts at resistance were little more to Dick than a cat scratching his arms. The blue-eyed man held you close with his free arm, gently cooing supportive reassurances as the pill melted in your cheeks, bitter and promising a nightmare when you woke up.

When your eyes opened again, you were laying in your old bed at Wayne manor. The window had been covered up with thick metal bars, spread no more apart than half of your head’s size. Much of your old stuff, which you had brought to Jason’s primary safe house, was back. They were nowhere near where you had put them when you lived here previously, a testament to how little whoever had reinstated your items actually knew about you. Sitting up, you found that your old cotton bedding had been changed for what you assumed to be silk, it was weirdly soft and you didn’t enjoy it in the slightest. Your duvet was a deep shade of green with golden accents, and you immediately knew who was responsible for the change. Damian. Perhaps he was even the one who had moved all your old stuff back. Their methodical placement, with very few items not lining the wall, certainly looked like how Damian had decorated his own room.

A large red box, filled with all your old clothes, as well as a bunch of new items stood in the middle of your room. You ignored it as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, trying to stand up only to find that your vision was double-crossed and your breaths shallow, you were dizzy beyond measure and your head pounded like mad, not to mention the coating of glistening sweat, which made you feel gross just being in your own body. What in the world had Dick given you?

Still, you attempted to move to the door, even if you realised you couldn’t stand up without fainting on the spot. Grasping your mattress tightly with both hands, you gently lowered yourself to the cold floor. Moving your legs under you, you managed to sit on your knees. Leaning forward, you took the fall with your palms, now standing on all fours. You hoped no one would ever see you in this state, it was humiliating not being able to move about as you normally did, but you had to get out or at least try. You had no idea what your father and brothers wanted with you, but you had a feeling it was nothing good.

Sliding your shins forward and following the motion with your hands, you slowly made your way towards the door. Raising a hand to the knob, you were surprised when the door swung open by itself. In the door stood Tim, warm towels in his arms. “Ah! I saw on the camera feed that you were awake! I thought you might enjoy some pampering.” A beat of silence rang out as you met Tim’s eyes, pale blue like a summer sky. You almost impressed yourself as you jumped forward, drilling the top of your head into his knees, making the lanky man fall to the ground with a grunt, as you tried to crawl away as quickly as possible. Tim was quick to get back on his feet, running after you, but you had already reached the closest stairs leading down. It only took one look down the long wooden construction to realise what you had to do, even if it would hurt more than anything. Tim realised what you were trying as he saw your shifty eyes cast a sideways glance down the steps.

“Y/n! Don’t you dare!” You didn’t let him finish as you closed your eyes and leaned to the side, starting to roll down the steps… or at least you would have, had it not been for the iron grip on your forearm. At first, you believed it to be Tim, but as you started to struggle, you realised that the hold was too tight and the hand too strong. Cracking open an eye, you could feel your heart sink into your stomach. Damian. Somehow, your youngest brother was the scariest one. The others were always ambivalent to your presence, but Damian had been openly hostile to you in your youth, oftentimes attacking you verbally or physically, and you didn’t doubt he could be violent towards you again. “What are you doing, Y/n?” His voice was no-nonsense, yet his eyes were soft. A strange dichotomy. “Getting away from you psychos”, you mumbled coldly, your throat was dry and the urge to cough arose as you spoke. The green-eyed man looked pensive, a tick in his jaw betrayed how he was trying to hold in his anger. He didn’t bother answering your insult, instead, he slung you onto his back and made his way back to your room, sneering at Tim when the two passed each other. Once back in your room, Damian held you down on the bed by your wrists, as he sat next to you. A general meeting was called, involving everyone in the family, except Jason, whom you had no clue where had gone.

Bruce had arrived almost immediately, with Dick prancing in not too long after. You weren’t sure what they wanted from you, assuming this was all to save Bruce’s public image, but even if that wasn’t the reason, you were sure that it was nothing good. They had all shown up on Christmas just to take you away from the only people you considered close friends and family. No one with good intentions would do something like that. As soon as the offending Waynes had all arrived, you spat out for them to announce the purpose of your kidnapping immediately. Both Bruce and Dick seemed disturbed by you titling their actions as a kidnapping. With the latter trying to defend it as being more of an obligatory change of scenery. It didn’t work, and you waited for someone to give you a proper answer with a deadpan. Damian had loosened his grip on you as the others arrived and all sat at the edge of the bed, surrounding you and making sure that you no longer had any possibility of escaping. It was claustrophobic and ominous.

Bruce was the one to explain that they had all led you back home to build the relationships, which you had all been deprived of in your younger years, expressing his regret and familial love for you, something which was echoed by the other men in the room. You were unconvinced. Telling them to drop the act and just tell you the real reason already, exclaiming how you didn’t have time to play charades with them. No matter how much they tried to convince you of their sincerity, you would have none of it, throwing their past actions in their face as proof of their dishonourable underlying motives. The meeting adjourned with no real progress made, other than the four of them deciding that you would be a danger to yourself if left alone and, therefore, making a schedule of when each of them would be by your side.

Bruce was shocked at your inability to believe in their love for you, his guilt multiplying by a hundred as he realised how untrusting you had become of your own family. He realised that he was to blame, attempting to grasp your hand, so small compared to his. Yet, when his fingers came close to yours, you jerked away, sending him a stare filled with nothing but disgust and hatred. He swore to change this, to do anything in his power to turn you to the truth of your family’s love for you, his love for you, his youngest child. The one he had almost let slip away.

Dick was heartbroken, he had truly believed that when they revealed their regret, you’d accept them back into your life with open arms. At your apprehension, the acrobat felt as if he was brought right back to when his parents died. Once again feeling his family slip through his fingers. However, this time, he was no longer the innocent bystander, who had done nothing to deserve the situation. No, this time he felt just like the man who had cut the robes of his parents’ trapeze. He had been the one who sabotaged his relationship with you. Still, he refused to let that be how the two of you would part ways. No. He deserved a second chance, he was your brother, after all. Family doesn’t just split with each other because of misunderstandings. He promised you and himself that he would not let it end like this. The two of you would become just as close as he and Damian, no matter how long it’d take. Dick could wait... No, he couldn't.

Tim blamed Jason for your sudden unwillingness to trust their intentions. Not even giving their prior neglect any thought. It was funny how he had practically worshipped Jason when he was younger, but now? Now, he blamed Jason for having corrupted your mind. Tim had completely turned around the memories of you attempting to communicate with him when you were younger. Instead of him telling you to scram every time you walked into his room to talk, he had deluded his own mind into thinking that he used to welcome you with open arms. Certain memories of Conner and him playing video games for hours on end were changed into the two of you doing the very same. He did not blame you for your hesitance, he preferred to solely, yet delusionally, place the entire blame on Jason. The ex-Robin, who had once been Tim’s biggest idol, had now turned into his greatest enemy. The way he so readily placed the blame on someone else spoke volumes about his lack of awareness when it came to your lucidity. He was sure that he could turn your mind ‘right’, by that he, of course, meant, ‘make you believe his version of events’. Tim’s delusional memories might’ve started off as just a plan to manipulate you, but they almost immediately turned into his own perceived truth. Anything to place the blame on Jason and not himself.

While Damian also disliked Jason like Tim, he was nowhere near delusional. He was highly lucid and entirely aware that, yes, they had all treated you like you were nothing more than a nuisance. Yes, you were probably well within your right to deny them any affection or chances. Yes, their new-found obsession with your love had become unhealthy and guilt-ridden, and it was certainly to your detriment. However, Damian had always been selfish and spoiled, two traits of his that he was aware of, yet couldn’t find it within himself to change. He was brought up as a prince his entire life, first as the heir to Eth Alth'eban and then as the unofficial prince of Gotham. There had never been anything he wanted that he didn’t get, and he knew that you would be no different. He was loyal to any cause he set his mind to and now, you would be it. No matter how much you’d fight, he was willing to keep his course. It was better for the both of you, he would get to enjoy your presence, and hopefully your care, while you’d be protected from any and all harm. Damian would give you the world if you asked, literally, so he saw no reason why he couldn’t demand your affection.

After your initial shock at the kidnapping subsided, you came to realise that your family’s newfound care had nothing to do with their public image, but rather some psychotic break in their mentality. Their affections turned clingy and you slowly started to feel a sense of hopelessness. They never let you be alone and they were so demanding of your affections.

Dick was especially bad in that regard, forcing you to cuddle and be physically affectionate, even if you showed an aversion to physical touch. He didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be close with your eldest brother, which meant he lent you little to no understanding in regards to any lack in the enjoyment of his company. Bruce never stopped Dick, always excusing his overly affectionate demeanour and encouraging you to do the same. Dick would in general be very open and clingy in his affection, barely letting you leave the couch or bed so that he could just encase himself around you like plastic wrap, rubbing your cheeks together and otherwise holding onto you tightly. It would really just be a way for him to make sure yiu were still there, that you weren’t missing like the night they brought you back. It really changed him deeply. Dick would also likely move back into the manor, much to everyone’s, except you, delight. That way he could be near you more often and better follow the observation schedule that they set up.

Bruce himself was much more willing to let you have your space, but there were certain things which he demanded, like you calling him dad, or at least father, or you eating your meals next to him. The eating arrangements always put you between Bruce and Damian, across from Dick. If that wasn’t bad enough, Bruce also enjoyed watching you eat, feeling a sense of fulfilment as he ensured that you stayed safe and sound. Of course, Bruce had cut you out of vigilante life completely, and if it had been solely up to him, he would’ve wrapped you in bubble wrap and kept you by his and your brothers’ sides forever. However, he realised that bubble wrap might be uncomfortable and probably wasn’t a very breathable material for your skin, so he did the next best thing. He made sure that you were constantly provided for, as well as spoiled beyond measure, giving you any gift that he thought you could possibly enjoy. It was, in a way, his way of giving you back what he felt he owed you for all the birthdays, Christmases and other holidays that he had missed out on. Not only that, but he also enjoyed the idea of him providing for you as a good father should.

Tim spent hours trying to ‘re-program’ your mind. He would describe in great detail how the two of you used to spend time together. He became frustrated when you explained how none of it ever happened and started to double down, blaming Jason for messing up your mind. Sometimes, Tim would even drag you to his room, which had become even messier as he slowly started to spend less time there and more time with you, and force you to re-enact ‘your old memories’ by playing the games he remembered the two of you playing. He would force you to sit on his bed, between his legs, as he caged you in with the rest of his lanky body and rested his head on your shoulder. It made you claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but Tim would get pouty and extend the gaming sessions if you tried to get away. The worst part of being with Tim, however, wasn’t listening to his delusional rants about your old relationship, no, that was an unavoidable nuisance at best. The worst thing was how he would dirty Jason’s name with the vilest of allegations, none of them rooted in reality. Everything from Jason kidnapping you, to Jason wanting to put your life in danger to punish Bruce and, worst of all, that Jason was somehow in a conspiracy with the League of assassins to kill you so that Damian would be Bruce’s only true heir. Whether or not you believed anything Tim said in the beginning, it was hard to entirely brush off all his claims as they were repeated to you verbatim almost every day. Sometimes Tim would even present ‘evidence’ for his claims, like videos of Jason acting suspiciously, or messages intercepted between Talia and Jason, written in their handwriting, mentioning you in a less than ideal light. Most of this ‘evidence’ was either taken out of context or simply fabricated. With many of the letters that Tim claimed were from Talia having been written by Damian, who knew his mother’s handwriting down to the smallest flicker of her wrist.

Damian was perhaps the most refreshing of them. He wasn’t nearly as overbearing as Bruce, nor was he as clingy as Dick and Tim. Damian was simply quite demanding. “L/n, sit next to me”, “L/n, come read with me in the library”, “L/n, come walk with me through the gardens”, and so on. His commands were easy to follow, and not to be questioned, Now, that was something you could do. Damian was less of an affection seeker, he was more patient than the rest, perfectly willing to wait until you were ready to get emotionally close to him. He would wait, with welcoming arms and a composed smile. If you ever showed Damian any affection, like a hug or putting your head on his shoulder while the two of you were reading, he would experience a brief moment of shock, before laying an arm or two around you, careful not to overwhelm you, but absolutely celebrating like new years in his mind. On the other hand, if you were to try and escape, Damian would have no qualms about breaking both of your legs with a sledgehammer, Annie Wilkes-style. Damian is deeply loyal, both to you and to Bruce, but even more so to himself and his personal beliefs. Once Damian sets a goal, he will not lose sight of it, this is also why he can remain so patient with you, but it also means that even if you somehow calm down the rest of your family’s yandere tendencies to manageable levels, this will never be the case with Damian. He will forever remain by your side, ready to protect and serve you. He does almost become reverent in his familial love for you, not in a deity-like way, but he does view you as one of the only people set above him, this reflects in the painted portraits, which he will no doubt create for you. Your room and his will both end up covered in your portraits, from different angles, with different hairstyles and so on, it is almost unsettling to see your own eyes staring back at you everywhere you go, almost like a 1984 Big Brother, only it is yourself. Damian will also take you to interact with his pets, he might keep both Titus and Batcow at a distance at first, afraid that they’ll hurt you, however, he almost transfers ownership of Jerry and Alfred the cat to you, thinking you could probably need some non-human companions to help you settle back in. He would also help you re-decorate your room if you’d like, only to sneak in deep green imagery here and there to remind you of him.

They are all exceptionally loving of you, you are their little prince/princess/royal, and they make sure to treat you like one. Alfred is almost embarrassed at the over-the-top behaviour, but he accepts it, as he feels obliged to always go with what Bruce wants. Bruce was once his little boy, (not biologically but in spirit), and he understands why the man acts as he does, even if he disagrees with the intensity of their treatment of you. He does, however, offer brief moments of reprieve, when he takes observation duty and simply lets you sit in the kitchen, munching on a cookie or two, doing whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t bring you in danger. It feels nice to just be yourself, even if only for a fleeting instant.

Jason had tried to get you back many times but was constantly being fought back by the rest of the family, physically and mentally. He had tried asking Roy for help, but the redhead was afraid of what they’d do to Lian, so he refused. The other Justice League members were of no help either, while they enjoyed Jason’s presence, they were first and foremost Bruce’s friends, and as such took his side in the matter. There was nothing Jason could do, he was powerless to help you as you were practically held captive within your old childhood home.

In short, the family made you the jewel of their eyes, your previous neglect was swept under the rug and you’re expected to forget it or at least forgive them. If I were to rank them from worst to best, it’d probably be Tim, Dick, Bruce, Damian and Alfred, (let’s be honest, he’d definitely turn at least slightly yandere after a while, even if you won’t notice. Heck, the fact that he lets Bruce hold you captive definitely screams “Not entirely against you being here against your will”). I think Tim would be the worst, as he often puts the need to convince you that you have always been close and his hatred of Jason before your actual wants and needs, and he will do things which you will find traumatic and uncomfortable, just to get you to agree with him. Dick is right behind him, as he puts his own need for extreme physical validation before your comfort and will expect you to forgive him relatively fast, as well as not being particularly sympathetic to your situation. Bruce and Damian are both tolerable, with Bruce being slightly worse due to his extreme overbearingness and lesser patience. Alfred is… well he’s Alfred, he treats you like a normal person would, while just being insanely enabling in his lack of action against Bruce. You’ll never escape any of them, so you better get comfortable.

#yandere batfam #batfam x reader #batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #yandere batboys #batboys x reader #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x reader #tim drake x reader #bruce wayne x reader #jason todd x reader

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rycbarmerlin · 1 month

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I remember how happy I was when Lando scored his first points in 2019. I remember seeing Carlos not letting Lando talk himself down when he was met with disappointment. We all watched as Lando brought Carlos out of himself, let him be himself in a way no one had really seen before, and together they drove the team forward.

I remember waiting in suspense after the Brazilian grand prix to see if Lewis would get the penalty that would give Carlos the podium after steaming through the pack from P20. Lando being so down and disappointed by his own performance, his own pace, but putting a smile on for the team, and Carlos acknowledging how much that meant to him.

And then we're back in Australia for the start of the 2020 season, only for the team to have to pull out due to a positive Covid test. The pandemic. The months away. MTC shutting up shop, making ventilators instead of F1 cars. Carlos announcing he would be leaving for Ferrari at the end of the 2020 season. The feeling of wanting to make every race count that bit more.

Then BAM, P3, Austria, first race back. First podium. Zac hugging him so hard Lando hurt his ribs. Monza - chasing down Carlos in for a podium but missing out. Wondering what it would be like for Carlos and Lando to feel what Pierre was feeling. Securing P3 in the constructors on the final day of the season against Racing Point, giving Carlos the best possible send off to Ferrari.

All the podiums in 2021: Imola, Monaco, Hungary, Austria, Monza. The one/two with Daniel at Monza - such happiness for the team he'd spent two years fighting on track for, but the bittersweet taste of first being just out of reach.

Anyone who watched Sochi knows how much that hurt. It was the perfect weekend; maiden pole, Carlos in second, George starting third in the Williams, but then it just gets ripped out from under you as the cars just fly past.

That one stings for a while.

Races continue and people say when are you going to get your first win? Can you do it with McLaren? Can McLaren get you fighting for the lead?

2022, there's Imola, but the podiums don't come like they did in 2021. The team isn't going forwards, and the happiness we felt when the team picked up a P8, P7, P10, isn't the same as it was in 2019. Faith in the team remains unwavering, but maybe a little tested.

2023. Pre-season testing. A sinking feeling. First race, double dnf. Oh, this is going to be a long season.

Miami 2023 felt like it lasted the whole day. The media pressure was unrelenting. Why can't anyone believe that McLaren is the place and people that Lando wants to win things with, win things for. Sure, the season has been bleak, but that desire doesn't fade.

Austria is the most unexpected, but most euphoric feeling. McLaren can do this in half a season... bring these upgrades and utterly transform a car that was by far the slowest? Seriously compete?

Silverstone. Front row. The ROAR of the crowd as Lando sends it past Max Verstappen to take the lead. And sure, it doesn't last for too many laps, but it was a pure, shining, tantalising moment where you realise once more what it could be like for Lando to win. You're transported back to all the moments that got you here, and he's not even winning. But now, now it really feels like this time, maybe this time, McLaren have really got something they can fight with.

A podium at Silverstone. A podium at Hungary. Oscar proving his class, and suddenly all the chatter on McLaren has become hype and excitement.

Feeling SICK as Lando defends against George at Singapore, working with Carlos in an instinctive, symbiotic way. Clipping the wall, and then seeing George go off. Fireworks. The dream one/two realised.

Ending the season in a place that felt completely unobtainable in Bahrain.

And now this year. Seeing where we were come the first few races, disappointed not to be as close to Red Bull, but in a decent fight with Ferrari.

A truly special podium in Australia. Shanghai too.

And now Miami.

This has been the journey. Small highs and lows, crushing lows, and euphoric highs, setbacks and disappointments, massive gains and top class drives. Rumours, gossip, media pressure, team pressure. Moving up in the championship, then sliding back. Coping with the messy fallout from the 2018 car. Learning how to be kinder to yourself, wheel to wheel racing with childhood heroes. Missing out by a tenth here, team orders, teammate victories.

Now finally, a win with the team Lando's stuck by, and that have stuck by him. An unwavering loyalty to papaya, a second family. A win from pace. A win from strategy. P6 to P1. The respect of the whole grid.

This has been coming for such a long time, and the journey to it has been long and winding. There is SO much more to come still. And we're with you, like we have been this whole time 🧡

#lando norris #miami gp #mclaren #carlando #f1 #formula 1 #this has just been the best day ever #it's been such a ride #🧡🧡🧡

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thatsdemko · 1 year

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the one where they notice - c.sainz

part 2: pining series

pining series masterlist

warnings: ig au posts + lighthearted jokes

a/n: thanks for all the love on part 1!! 🫶🫶

F1GOSSIP

liked by pierregasly, chilisainz, norrizsainz, and 1,368 others.

F1GOSSIP: our favorite Ferrari intern is BACK! y/n y/l/n shared this photo from the race in Australia☺️ we can’t wait to see more from her this 2023 season!

300 comments

norrissainz: we stan y/n!!!

gaslygaze: she’d look so good with Carlos… 👀

leclerc55sainz: she’s too hot for Carlos

liked by yourusername

bottaszhou: Pierre what are you doing here???

—

“so you’re too hot for me, eh?” the words startled you, as you had thought to have been alone. you arrived to qualifying much earlier than the drivers, and thinking you’d have time alone, you figured you’d catch up on your socials having no idea Carlos would see the comment.

“word travels fast around here.” you set your phone down, watching him slide into the empty seat across from you in the garage. it’s just the two of you waiting for everyone to pile in for the meeting. a hot steaming cup of coffee beans fills the smell of the room.

“now that I’m single, I have much more free time to listen to the gossip.” he comments, a chuckle escaping his lips before he sips the hot contents.

you just shake your head. the man across from you was nothing more than a coworker, maybe even an occasional friend from time to time, but you never got close. it was your rule, getting close meant you began to care for the men you worked with, and as much as you did care for them, they couldn’t be your friends. their obligations were to listen to your demands for media presence and that was as far as the contract went.

“you should spend more time on the simulator. spend your lonely nights perfecting your game.” your low blow earned a nod in approval, raising his cup to give you that point.

the silence fills the room. nothing but the sound of him slurping on the hot contents as bodies begin to move into the room for the meeting, and soon enough everyone’s seated.

the silence that once was there, has been born into commotion and you just listen to the mixture of Italian, French, and English flying every which way. your ears and eyes focus on Carlos and Charles conversation, the two always laughing and chatting, you can see Carlos relax with his team. the drama of yesterday and today seem to fade in these walls.

“let’s get started, shall we? we’ve got lots to talk about with Baku on the clock.”

—

qualifying goes rather difficult for one of the Ferraris. the grimace on your face is noticeable once Carlos steps out the car. he flashes a thumbs up to your phone camera for instagram and you quickly post it before shoving the device in your pocket, “we’ll get ‘em tomorrow, sainz. vamos.” you push him in the direction of the media pen and he follows.

“let’s just hope we can. I don’t have much faith left.” he exchanges his helmet for a cap from another intern, before entering the media pen. you don’t get much to say before interviewers swarm him, but like he always does, he flashes you his pearly fake smile before turning to the cameras.

he’d been doing it with you since you told him all of his emotions lie on the surface of his face. his fans can tell when he’s truly not happy, so you made a deal to help teach him how to fake a smile when times were bad.

“no you still look mad! smile with your eyes, dumbass.” you laugh pushing his cheeks to go wider, his giggle grows inside the motorhome, “I’m trying!”

“Carlos, what happened out there?”

TRENDING ON TWITTER

trending in Motorsport

CARLOS AND Y/N???

3,000 tweets

f1gossip

liked by peppersainz, y/nstannie, gaslec, & 1,357 others.

f1gossip: seems like things could be spicing up for chili? we noticed the way he looked at our y/n! thoughts?

210 comments

sainz55: he’s not even been single for 30 minutes and he’s making eyes at her?

dr3norris: it’s just an inside thing they do!! it’s nothing serious

russellgeorge: I would love to see it! she’s always been on his side(and have you noticed she always posts him in her photo dumps)

f1gossip: you’re onto something here 👀

tags: @arian-directioner @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ak0ma @ruebennett89 @mochimommy2002 @flyingmushroomss @icarus-nex @solo-pitstop-vibes @xjval @chimchimjiminie16 @tifosirussell @celestialpierre @moonvr @laneyspaulding19 @myescapefromthislife @formula1mount @moonyschocolate13 @bbubbllejisoo @summerslike11 @imperfectophelia @bhiees

want to be tagged in this series? let me know!

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dollfaceksj · 10 months

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reminder | jjk (m) pt. 3

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: Whenever he flies back into town, your doorbell is the first he rings. When he has to fly out again, your bed is the last he lies in. However, you’re not stupid. You know your ex-boyfriend, that also happens to be an up-and-coming professional boxer, Jeon Jungkook, doesn’t come to you only. Unfortunately, you have no right to be jealous, not when you’re the one that ended the relationship.

➥ GENRE: angst ⋆ smut ⋆ bit of fluff ⋆ exes with benefits

➥ CATEGORY: three-shot

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, lots of arguing, angst so much angst, toxicity, strong language, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, reader gets a taste of her own medicine, slightly aggressive jk (not @ reader dw), cockblocker!yoongi, hater!yoongi, mean!yoongi, yoongi just cares about jungkook okay, another bts member cameo and he’s the only normal person in this frfr, a bit of jungkook pov, quick forgiveness bc they love each other so much guys like theyre such losers omg, mentions of.. THE NECKLACE… sorry in advance, oral sex (m. rec), unprotected sex (dont be dumb), rough love making, make-up sex, shirtless ck jk because why not…, kinda subby!jk for a moment… :D, creampie, mentions of edging, mentions of overstimulation, teasing, imo both reader and jk are extremely dumb in this tbh, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 12.5k

a/n: ah. its the final part. i wanna take the time to thank you guys for loving this three-shot! the love reminder has received really did have me considering making it into a series (i really did) but honestly i think it’s best to keep it a three-shot. HOWEVER: i wanna write a lot of drabbles for it so look out for those!

a/n 2: ignore any mistakes u see or you are cloverphobic. not betaread.

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

The distant thud of a car door slamming shut makes Jungkook jerk awake in his car. With a hiss, he slurps up the drool that had trickled down his chin from being knocked out and he shoots upright in his seat. He’s jetlagged as hell after flying out from Australia but he still insisted on seeing you first.

Unfortunately, when he knocked at your front door around 12AM, you weren’t home. Being his stubborn self, he decided to wait for your arrival in his car. He dropped Yoongi off at home and returned, parked in front of your door and waited.

But the sound of that car door slamming shut has pulled him out of his slumber. He looks out of the car window on his side, and there you are in the distance, dolled up and searching for your house keys in your clutch as you make your way to the front door.

Wearing a tight dress, hair did exactly the way you know Jungkook likes and from this angle he can’t see your face but without a doubt, he knows you’re absolutely gorgeous.

He takes his phone out of his pocket to check the time and the numbers on his lockscreen – which is a picture of his hand holding yours – tell him it’s 4:08AM. He’d been here for hours but all of it felt like minutes when he finally set his eyes on you again.

Right as he’s about to get out of his car, the figure of another person walks around the car you had just gotten out of. With a squint in his eyes, Jungkook tries to figure out who’s walking up to you right now.

A man, not much older than himself, holds you by your arm as he leads you to your front door. A frown creeps onto his brows when you don’t seem to have a reaction to this man touching you.

Jungkook watches as you keep digging into your purse, seemingly searching for your keys but that doesn’t matter to him anymore.

With a scowl on his pretty face, he silently gets out of his car and sneaks up on the both of you. He makes sure not to make any noise as he stands directly behind the unfamiliar man. Jungkook tilts his head to the side as he says, “She can handle the rest from here.”

He watches with a stern look in his eyes as you and the man slightly jump from the sudden interruption. Your head snaps in his direction and so does the man’s head next to you.

Jungkook can see the horror in your eyes as you come to the realization that it’s none other than Jeon Jungkook standing right next to you.

You’re staring at him like he’s grown a second head, Jungkook’s eyes trail your face and scan your features, committing it all to memory. Pupils dilated, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead, lips swollen, remnants of lipstick smudged across your chin.

“Who’s this?” the unknown man asks you after the deafening silence that had settled around the three of you, a raise to his eyebrow as he turns his head to look at you.

You quickly compose yourself and clear your throat to speak but before you can answer, Jungkook butts in. “I’m Jungkook,” he says, cockily.

The man slowly nods to Jungkook’s introduction and opens his mouth to respond with his own name as he says, “Hoseok.”

Jungkook nods again after puffing out his chest with an air of arrogance and replying, “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. It’s awfully late, though. You should go home.”

Hoseok turns to look at you with a confused yet concerned look in his eyes, checking with you to see if it’s okay to leave you with this man named Jungkook.

You let a soft sigh push past your lips and give him a nod of reassurance. You place your hand on Hoseok’s bicep to wordlessly tell him it’s okay but he doesn’t look convinced. That’s when you say, “It’s fine, Hobi. Thank you for helping me get home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s eye twitches at not only the nickname but at the fact that you’ve seemingly agreed to meet up with this man tomorrow. His gaze drops to your hand on Hoseok’s bicep and he rolls his eyes, fighting the urge to flex his own arms but quickly realizing how stupid he’s being.

Hoseok nods once he sees the sincere look in your eyes and slowly starts walking backwards whilst staring Jungkook down. Jungkook isn’t backing down, though, staring back head-on. Hoseok clicks his tongue and finally spins on his heels, making his way back to his car. He looks back one more time.

Jungkook hasn’t budged from where he was staring Hoseok down and Hoseok glances at you one last time before getting into his car and driving off.

Jungkook glares at the retreating vehicle until it has literally disappeared down the street.

With a frown on his face he turns to you but you avoid his gaze as you turn your keys in the keyhole, unlocking the door to your home. You don’t even hold the door open for Jungkook as you walk in, heels clicking against the tiles as you kick them off and make your way to your living room.

You toss your purse at the couch, watching as it tumbles to the ground with a loud clatter, spilling all its contents but you don’t seem to care as you turn to look at him once he closes the door behind him, in the midst of kicking his own shoes off.

“Why the hell are you here, Jungkook?”

His brows pinch together at your words, the urge to nibble on his bottom lip starting to creep up his spine. “What do you mean, why am I here?”

You stare at him for a moment longer with frustrated eyes and your lips pressed into a thin line, watching his every move but he isn’t budging an inch.

You shake your head as you start walking away from him but he quickly stops you, hand wrapping around your bicep as he tugs you back. “Y/N, speak.”

You glance down at his inked hand wrapped around your bicep and try to wiggle it out of his grasp but he doesn’t let you.

You scoff, “Seriously? I don’t fucking hear from you the entire two months you were in Australia and you have the nerve to come back and act like nothing has happened?”

Record scratch.

Jungkook can hear the cry threatening to spill from your throat and it stings him as bad as when he was punched in the mouth a week ago during a sparring match.

He’s usually gone for a week or two, never longer than that. Not only has he been gone for two months, he didn’t contact you at all while he was away.

He shakes his head, tugging you even closer to him. “You never hear from me when I’m gone, I always come back like nothing has happened! Why are you suddenly acting like it’s a big deal? We’ve been doing this for two years.”

You press your hands into his chest in an attempt to push him off but there’s no real strength behind it. “Because this time, it’s not the same!”

He quickly takes notice to your quickened breathing and the hurt in your eyes but he doesn’t comment on them and decides to stand his ground and defend his actions. “How is it not the same?”

The look of disbelief you give him has his heartbeat stuttering in its rhythm and his throat tightening as it starts drying out.

“Don’t act dumb, Jungkook,” you say, adding more strength behind your push against his chest.

He doesn’t budge nor respond, instead, he continues to stare you down with eyes that flicker with uncertainty and desperation.

You shake your head in disbelief again at his lack of response. “Last time was different. You know it was.”

Again, he has no rebuttal because he knows. He knows it was.

But Jungkook was scared. Terrified, even.

Before he reminds himself of how he’s felt the past two months, he changes the topic. “Who was that?” is all he asks.

Your brows pinch together as your eyes scan his face, dropping to his lips and catching the way he wets them with his tongue, a substitute for chewing on them. “What?” you ask him in confusion.

“Hoseok,” he pauses. “Who is he?” he asks, the face of the unfamiliar man flashing in his mind makes his blood boil all over again, fingers adjusting around your bicep to make sure you don’t slip from his grasp.

You can’t believe he’s deterring the conversation to this, apparent by the raise in your brows and the change in your pitch. “Are you serious?”

“Answer the fucking question, Y/N.” He closes the distance between you two, menacingly towering over you as he stares you down with his onyx eyes.

You huff in frustration and with a shake of your head, you reply, “He’s my friend.”

Jungkook nods to your words in mockery and then reaches up with his other hand, wetting his thumb with his tongue to wipe your chin clean of the makeup. “Friends follow you to your front door at 4AM with the same lipstick on their face that’s smudged across your chin?”

“Oh,” you begin with your eyes narrowed, “don’t you fucking start.” You wiggle your arm out of his grasp and this time he lets you, allowing you to make your way towards your bedroom. His presence is in your wake, following close behind you.

He ignores your words and as soon as the both of you enter your once-shared bedroom, he asks, “Did you fuck him?”

You groan, “No, Jungkook. I didn’t fuck him.” You start taking your jewelry off as you continue, “But friends do share New Year’s kisses.” You fully turn your back to him, tucking away your jewelry in their rightful place. “You didn’t even fucking wish me happy holidays.”

He sighs in exasperation, staring at the ceiling. He knows the fact that it’s New Years is why you’re dolled up, why you’re dressed like this, why you came home this late.

But that doesn’t make him hate it any less.

With a shake of his head, he says, “You know how busy I am, Y/N. There’s nothing more I would’ve wanted than to be here with you, you know that.” His tone has softened and he’s closing the gap between you two but he stops dead in his tracks when your head snaps in his direction.

“I’m not asking you to be here while you can’t. I know you can’t. I’m asking for at least a phone call.” You reach for the zipper on your dress right under your armpit, tugging it down to your hip. “Not even a text, are you fucking kidding me?”

He loudly exhales again, shaking his head as he throws it back and his gaze shifts up to the ceiling, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows down what he really wants to say.

You bitterly chuckle as you eye the short distance between the two of you – he’s standing about two meters away. “Bet you had enough time for other people.”

Your accusating words make his eyebrows twitch and so, his response is immediate. “I didn’t fuck anyone.”

“Aht,” you say as you hold your hand up. “Don’t you fucking bullshit me,” you add, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

He shakes his head in disbelief, face turning to the side as his eyes shift to the wall on his left. He glares at the wall for a while, his hands on his hips and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

Then, he says, “Is he the one?”

Jungkook can tell by the way you sigh in exasperation that you’re fighting the urge to start yanking on your own hair.

“The one what?” you groan in annoyance as you start tugging your dress down your body, exposing your body in a matching underwear set and letting the dress pool at your feet before reaching for your bathrobe.

He rubs his face harshly as he adds, “The one you fucked.”

He’s still not looking at you but by your tone and heavened breathing, he knows you probably look like you want to bend over and scream until your vocal chords burst.

“I told you, I didn’t fuck–”

He immediately cuts you off. “I’m not talking about today. I’m talking about what you told me in the shower before I left for Australia,” he says. Then he repeats, “Did you fuck him?”

At that, you go quiet.

He closes his eyes at the silence, jaw clenching as you fidget with the ropes of your bathrobe and his own throat tightens at how you go speechless. You glance up at him with big eyes and a tremble in your chin.

At your lack of response, Jungkook finally looks at you, eyes dropping to your mouth, not missing the quiver in your pretty lips. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

You shrug your shoulders and finally find your voice after what seems like ages. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters.” He stomps the rest of the way over to you, menacingly towering over you. He adds, “I’m not buddy-buddy with the people I fuck.”

You tilt your chin to look up at him, brows knitted together and a scowl forming on your face. “Drop it, Jungkook,” you mumble, tying the bathrobe around your waist.

He closes whatever small distance is still in between you, his body pressed up against your arm before he leans down to directly say the next words into your ear, “Was he good? Did he fuck you good? Did he do the thing you like?”

You move your arm up, pressing your elbow against his chest in an attempt to push him off but he doesn’t budge an inch. “Stop it,” you warn.

He clicks his tongue and kisses his teeth with a loud smack, still not backing away from you. “Not so fun to be on the receiving end of that, is it?”

He’s right. You’ve been pestering him like that for years, always bringing up his sex life with other people to provoke him, to annoy him, out of your own selfishness. Why can’t he return the energy? Put you in that situation? Give you a taste of your own medicine?

You click your tongue in annoyance not only with him but yourself. Teasing him all those times has come back to directly bite you in the ass.

“Shut up, seriously.” You bump your shoulder into his as you make your way to the bathroom but he doesn’t let you get away that easily.

“Were you together? Or was it casual?” He follows close behind you as he continues to pester you.

“Jungkook.”

He doesn’t care about the warning tone in your voice or the scowl on your face. “I just wanna know. I wanna know if he knows I fucked you all those times too.”

You don’t even respond as you start taking your makeup off, ignoring Jungkook’s gaze through the reflection. He’s leaning against the doorframe, cockily staring at you through the mirror and you do your best to ignore him.

When it’s been quiet too long for his liking, he says, “Does he know you’ll always let me do whatever I want to you?” He begins to walk closer, closing the distance between you two until his chest is pressed up against your back and continues to menacingly stare at you through the mirror. “That you’ll never forget about me?”

You slam your makeup wipes down onto the sink with a loud thud, turning to face him. He’s completely pressed up against you at this point, caging you in between the sink and his own body.

You don’t even know what to say because that’s exactly how you’d talk to him ever since the break-up. You tilt your chin to look up at him. “Stop.”

He scoffs as he stares you down with intense eyes. He kisses his teeth with a loud smack and says, “Yeah, not so fun, is it?”

You ignore his provocations like he did yours all those times and move your elbows up to his chest, pushing past him to walk back into your room. Jungkook is aware that you’re constantly creating extra space between the two of you because his proximity will have you bending to his will.

He stays back this time, just quietly watching as you get ready for bed. He can’t ignore the sinking heart in his chest as your bottom lip quivers and your breath has gotten shaky, he can never be mean to you for long and he knows that.

He deeply sighs and shakes his head at his own antics. “Come here,” he mumbles as he makes his way to you.

You don’t respond, you just keep your back turned to him as you prepare your pillows and sheets.

He quietly sighs to himself as he wraps his arms around you from the back, halting you in your movements.

He turns your body to make you face him, his big hands firmly on your hips. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said those things.” He leans into the crook of your neck and nudges your ear with the tip of his nose. “You drive me crazy and it’s making me act a fool.”

Your arms stay limp by your side, your way of telling him you’re still mad at him but you turn your face slightly to give him more access to your neck like you’ll always do.

“I fucking hate how much I love you,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbones, fingers digging through the fabric of your bathrobe to grip your hips tightly.

You sigh softly at the sensation of his lips on your skin again, your hands coming up to squeeze his biceps. “You’re an asshole.”

“I know, baby.” His voice is muffled by your neck but you feel the smile on his lips against your skin. “Didn’t like the taste of your own medicine?”

You grunt in response, pinching his biceps which makes him hiss and chuckle before pulling away from your neck to glance down at you.

“Will you let me kiss you?” he asks you, thumbs rubbing circles into your hipbones as his pretty black eyes roam your features.

“No,” you reply, moving your hands up to his chest and rubbing circles through his shirt.

His lips pucker up in a childish pout but he doesn’t push it any further, your proximity is enough for him.

“What’s the magic word?” you say.

His chest puffs as he chuckles, shaking his head. “Will you let me kiss you, please?”

You huff like a little kid that’s just finished throwing a tantrum but you nod your head to his question nonetheless, hands moving up to cup his cheeks.

His face closes in on yours and he presses his lips to your attention-seeking ones. He melts into your kiss, hands traveling up your sides to hold your waist tightly.

It’s been too long since he last saw you, so kissing you feels like a thousand years ago. He makes the most of it as he tightly holds onto your waist as if you don’t have breakable bones, as if you’ll slip through his fingers, as if you’ll disappear into thin air.

He slowly pulls back from your kiss. “I have something to show you,” he says as he reaches for something in his pocket. His phone seems to be in the way so he takes it out of his pocket and hands it to you so you can hold it while he searches for what he so desperately wants to show you.

You glance down at the screen as it automatically lights up and your eyes mindlessly drop down to the 3 hours old notifications.

[1:02AM]

René (AUS)

Are you still at the same hotel? Want me to come over?

[1:04AM]

René (AUS)

Missed call (1)

He watches your face twist into confusion and pain as his own eyes drop to where you’re looking at, the realization dawning on him like he got hit by a fucking train.

Jungkook’s body tenses up under your touch. His other hand drops from your hip and your eyes slowly trail to look up at him.

In a panic, he quickly says, “I swear, it’s not what you think. I swea–”

You don’t let him finish as you slam his phone into his chest and directly stare into his concerned eyes. “Fuck you.”

The way you say it with so much venom in your voice knocks the air directly out of Jungkook’s lungs.

He can hear an imaginary record scratch when you point toward your door and say, “Get out.”

Jungkook is stunned.

You have never made him leave.

You have never told him to just get out.

And for some reason, the ‘get out’ hurts even more than the vicious ‘fuck you’.

“Y/N–”

“Out.”

Jungkook shakes his head, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Don’t make me leave. Please.”

You immediately reply, “I want you to leave. Right now.”

He stares at the wall for a few moments as he gathers his thoughts. You stare at his side profile for a few seconds before you spin on your heels and head towards your bed.

As you plop down on your bed, you’re just in time to watch Jungkook dig in the pocket of his sweatpants and roughly throw something across the room, aimed right at the wall to your right.

You flinch at the clatter of a small box being smashed against the wall and turn to look at him with a frown etched onto your features.

He has never shown you any aggressiveness ever so you’re shocked at the sudden switch. “What the hell, Jungkook?”

He tugs on his long black locks before he quietly curses and turns, loudly stomping out of your room. The shuffling of him putting his shoes on reaches your ears and before you know it, the front door has been slammed shut.

Your hand sits on your chest, right over where your pounding heart is. You’re not scared of Jungkook and never will be but there’s a reason you don’t go to his matches. You don’t like seeing the boy with the entire galaxy in his eyes be aggressive, be angry, be consumed by hate.

When you’ve finally composed yourself, you take a few breaths to steady your ragged breathing. You deeply exhale and get up from your bed, walking over to the mini box and its spilled contents.

The small blue box is on its side, wide open and something shiny is sprawled out next to it.

Small tear shaped sapphire earrings that would fit perfectly with your estranged necklace.

The words – which you recognize as Jungkook’s handwriting – on the neon pink post-it that’s stuck to the inside of the lid shatters your heart into a million pieces.

‘Be my girlfriend (again)? :)’

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[6:30PM]

Hobi

I’m outside ^_^

You smile at your phone and apply your lip gloss as your finishing touch. With a final glance in the mirror, you give yourself a smile and a nod before heading into the hall and sliding your feet into your pumps.

You leave your home after locking up and quickly make your way down to the vehicle in front of your home before hopping into Hobi’s car, leaning over to give him a greeting hug.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks as he leans back and starts accelerating after you’ve closed the car door.

“Yeah. You?” you say as you buckle your seatbelt and open up the interior mirror above your head to check your makeup again.

“I’m fine.” He slows down in front of a red light and glances over at you. “What was all that about?”

“What?” you ask, already knowing what he’s talking about as you continue to check your teeth and waterline, ignoring the persistent lump that’s forming in your throat.

“Yesterday.” He returns his gaze to the road in front of him. “Well, more like this morning.”

You sigh and close the mirror, slouching in your seat as you glance over at him. “I’m sorry about that, Hoseok.”

Even if Hoseok was just helping you get inside, you feel bad about sending him away like that.

A chuckle leaves his mouth. “I know you are, I just thought I was seconds away from being decked in the mouth.”

You look out the window, pressing your lips together in an attempt at blending your gloss with your peachy nude lip combo.

“I know. Jungkook is just,” you pause, rubbing the scrunch between your brows.

He accelerates once the light jumps to green. “Is he the boxer?”

You merely hum in response, picking at the loose flesh around your manicured nails.

“You love him, right?” Hoseok’s question knocks the air right out of your lungs. The lump that had started forming in your throat has lodged down your esophagus and has unleashed a stream of lava that causes your heart to burn.

Your lack of response makes him nod his head, his hand coming to his jaw and rubbing his freshly shaven chin.

“And he certainly didn’t seem happy to see me,” he chuckles as he recalls the events of this morning.

“Yeah, well.” You nonchalantly shrug your shoulders. “He can’t just show up at my front door after two months of not talking to me.”

“Two months?” he repeats, leaning his left elbow against the window next to him and rubbing his chin with his hand whilst his other hand manages the gear shift and steering wheel.

You nod and cross your arms over your shoulders, adjusting the belt that’s digging into your neck.

He asks, “What was he doing for two months?”

You explain the events that happened two months ago, from Jungkook showing up to you telling him for the first time (again) that you love him. You explain the entire history between you and Jungkook, all the problems, all the love, all the pain, everything.

Hoseok knew you were still head over heels in love with an ex-boyfriend that also happened to be a professional boxer but he never pried. However, as he witnessed that embarrassing moment firsthand, you’re of the opinion that you owe him an explanation.

“Hm.” He thinks about what you just told him for a few moments, seemingly in deep thought. Unfortunately, you know Hoseok well enough to know when he wants to say something.

You turn your head to look at him, chest already tightening at the thought of him not agreeing with you. “You’ve got something to say.”

He looks at you for a moment before glancing back at the road. “I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

The raise in your brows indicates intrigue and surprise at his words. “Well, now you have to say it.”

He chuckles at the switch in your tone and parks in the theater’s parking lot before turning to look at you again. “To me, it just seems like he didn’t want to suffocate you again.”

“Suffocate me? He’s not going to suffocate me by texting me once in two months, Hobi.”

“No, I get that, and he is incredibly stupid for that but it seems to me like he’s so scared of losing you again that he didn’t want to ruin anything?” he explains, his point of view being a reminder that not everything may be what it initially seems to you.

You furrow your brows and part your lips to argue but Hoseok cuts you off before you can.

“What did he say after I left? Did he seem different?”

You think about it for a while. Yes, he did seem different, now that you think about it.

And then you’re reminded of Jungkook’s gift and his question. And at that, a surge of guilt spreads through your chest and starts bubbling up your throat.

“He, uh,” you start as you clear your throat, “he just asked who you were. The usual ex-boyfriend stuff. But he did kind of ask me to be his girlfriend again.”

He unbuckles his seatbelt and then turns to you. “So, I take it y’all made up, then.”

You shake your head, avoiding his gaze as you open up the mirror again to check if there’s anything in between your teeth to pretend you don’t care. “I told him to leave.”

“Why?” His brows are pinched together in confusion and you can see him aiming his frown at you in your peripheral vision.

You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly again, hoping to appear unbothered. “I saw his phone, one of his groupies texted him. Just wasn’t in the mood.”

“Did he text them or did they text him?”

You slowly turn to look at him as a frown climbs its way onto your brows. “What?”

Hoseok stares at your for a few moments in silence before repeating his question, “Did he text them?”

You idly blink at him, the image of Jungkook’s face when he swore it wasn’t what it looked like flashing in your mind. Fuck.

You quickly compose yourself and say, “I don’t know.”

Hoseok blinks at you for a few times with a slight pinch in his brows before slowly nodding. “Okay.”

“You want to say something again,” you groan loudly, rubbing the scrunch on your forehead to prepare yourself for what he has to say now.

Surprisingly, he chooses not to. “I’m not going to this time.” A chuckle leaves his mouth after he says that, shaking his head in the process. “Let’s go, the movie is about to start.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Australia, 1 week ago

With a big gulp, Jungkook slams his glass down onto the wooden surface of the bar he’s sitting at. He winces at the burning liquid sliding down his esophagus, bringing his hand up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

He stares at his lockscreen, a smile creeping on his lips at the picture. His eyes trail your fingers and your hand, how well they fit in his.

With a tilt of his phone, he unlocks it using Face ID and opens the message app. He scrolls until he sees your name, it’s been over a year since either of you last texted each other. Like mentioned before, he always comes back unannounced and you always act like nothing has happened.

It’s how it’s been for two damn years.

His fingers slowly start hovering over your contact name. Should he text you? Should he not?

He shouldn’t. You told him the two of you would talk about it when he’s back. Maybe he’d scare you off if he were to text you right now.

Besides, he’d be back in town in five days anyways.

Right as he locks his phone again, he’s dragged out of his thoughts when a hand squeezes his bicep.

He snaps his head in the person’s direction.

“You gonna keep acting like you don’t see me?” Ashley – an ‘acquaintance’ of Jungkook’s – says as she tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear.

(Read: acquaintance meaning a person he’d usually fuck if he was back in their country.)

“Oh,” he mumbles, his arm tensing up under her touch. Not to flex his arm but because he doesn’t want her touching him. “Ashley, right?”

“Hm,” she hums as she drops her hand from his arm, swiveling in her stool to face him, her knees pressed into the side of his thigh. “Doing anything tonight?”

He shakes his head as he continues to stare at the ice ball in his glass, his fingers fidgeting with the rim.

“Wanna do me?” she suggests, her feet making their way to rub up and down his calves in a teasing way.

He instantly regrets all the times he had her bent over his hotel couch, pounding into her from behind and kept his eyes shut to imagine he was fucking you.

He quietly exhales and rubs his eyes with the back of the knuckle of his index fingers as he looks for an excuse to reject her. “I don’t have any protection on me,” he mumbles, hoping she’ll get the hint.

Jungkook is responsible when it comes to his sex life. He’s quite literally always carrying protection. The only person he had ever fucked raw and would continue to do so are you.

So, these past two months he’d been walking around with nothing of the sort because he didn’t feel the need to. Now that there was that blossoming chance that he’d get back together with you, he’d wait for you.

He doesn’t want anyone else moaning his name, he doesn’t want to hold onto anyone else’s hips while pounding into them, he doesn’t want anyone but you.

“We could pass a nightshop on the way to my apartment,” she offers, her hand coming back to his bicep and sliding up his shoulder to his neck, the tips of her fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

The thought of anyone else touching him right now has goosebumps popping out of the upper layer of his skin and not in a good way.

“Let me use the restroom first,” he says as he gets up from his stool, subtly shrugging her hand off his neck in the meantime.

He looks her way for the first time since acknowledging her at the start and gives her the fakest smile he can muster. He walks around her and disappears in the sea of bodies that had started growing behind them.

He quietly makes his exit through a backdoor, standing in front of the building with his back to the door as it shuts loudly behind him. He tilts his head back and allows the infinite soft rain droplets to gently kiss his face and neck.

After a few more moments of enjoying the rain and distant booming music, he whistles at a taxi that he sees passing by and jogs toward it, hopping in the back before anyone else catches him.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

present

Damn Hoseok.

It just seems like he didn’t want to suffocate you again.

He’s so scared of losing you again that he didn’t want to ruin anything.

Did he text them?

Should you have heard him out?

You couldn’t even focus on that damn movie. Hoseok’s words and input kept clouding your mind, kept reminding you of maybe – just maybe – you were being unreasonable.

No, you’re not at fault for being upset that he didn’t say a word for two months.

You still think he’s an idiot for that.

Even if it’s been like that for the past two years. This time it was different and you’re not going to let anyone gaslight you into thinking it wasn’t.

But with how well you know his heart, his love, his passion for you, you should’ve known better. You don’t even know how long he’d been waiting in front of your door on New Years.

And there you were during New Years, opening up your front door with a man in your wake that had been in your (once Jungkook’s) bed.

You and Hoseok met at a party of a mutual friend one night and immediately hit it off. For the first time since Jungkook (about a year and a half after the break-up), you finally allowed yourself to let loose and do the thing Jungkook did to get his mind off of you.

You ended up having casual hook-ups with Hoseok, and goodness, was he amazing.

He fucked you good, touched you in the right places, said the right things, did everything right.

But he wasn’t him.

So, after about four months, you’d called it quits. Hoseok, being the amazing person he is, didn’t pry but insisted on staying friends and being there for you.

And that brings you back to the conversation you had with him in the car on your way to the movies.

He didn’t excuse Jungkook’s behavior but he made some good points, and damn him for that. Because now you can’t stop thinking about it. All of it. The worst being that Jungkook had planned to ask you to be his girlfriend again on New Years.

And thanks to all of that thinking, you find yourself in front of Min Yoongi’s front door a few days later.

Since you broke up with Jungkook, he never bothered to find a new place since he’s gone a lot. So, you assume he must be crashing at Yoongi’s when he’s not crashing at yours.

You raise your shaky fist and knock on the door.

A few seconds later, the sound of shuffling and keys jingling reach your ears and instantly sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. The door swings open and you make eye contact with his manager, his intense eyes make your heart almost implode within your ribs.

His frown at your presence almost stings. “What are you doing here?”

You look to the side as you swallow, hoping it helps you gather your courage. “Is Jungkook here?”

He scoffs, clearly unimpressed. “Why?”

“I need to talk to him.” You turn your head to look at him again, hoping you look as determined as you feel.

He dryly chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “So, you can kick him out at 4AM without hearing him out but he needs to hear you out because you’re the one that needs to talk now?”

You cross your arms over your chest to keep yourself from fidgeting and glance at the floor. “I want to apologize to him for that.”

“You want me to believe that?” He glances at his watch as if he’s unimpressed with your reasoning.

Gosh, why is he so stubborn?

Before you can even reply, he bitterly adds, “You need to quit playing with that boy’s feelings, Y/N.”

You finally look up at the older man, a quiver in your bottom lip and an imaginary bag of sand unleashing in your throat as your mouth dries out at his accusation. “I’m not playing with his feelings, Min,” you pause as you look away. “Please, just let me talk to him.”

“You can’t expect me to believe you came all the way out here just so you can apologize to him.” He slides his feet into his shoes, running a hand through his freshly cut hair.

He looks so nonchalant, as if what you’re saying is of absolutely no significance to him. The tightening in your chest tells you that you’re starting to lose your patience. “And why the fuck not?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows twitch as he takes a step closer to you, menacingly looming over you. You now know where Jungkook gets that from. “You could’ve texted him and he would come over in a heartbeat, you know that.”

“Let me stop you right there,” you say as you raise your hand, holding it up in front of his chest. “He’s not a fucking dog. I’m not going to text him so he can jump at every command. I know he would, which is why I took it upon myself to come here and personally apologize to him.”

Yoongi tilts his head to the side as he listens to your ramble, his arms crossed over his chest. You see the glimmer of something in his eyes but you can’t tell what it is, he’s always been too hard to read.

You drop your hand, wrapping it around the straps of the purse you’re holding in your sweaty palms to tug it over your shoulder. “So, will you let me?” you say after a few seconds of silence from Yoongi.

He narrows his eyes at you, still trying to read you and your intentions. But your sincerity is clear, evident by the fire in your eyes, your balled fists at your sides and the pinch in between your brows.

He takes a deep breath and steps aside to let you in. “Do what you want. I was about to leave anyway,” he mumbles as he slides his coat on and walks around you, heading out the front door.

He abruptly stops and turns to look at you one last time. “Don’t make him do anything stupid, Y/N. Or so, help me God.”

He stares you down as if he wants to obliterate you with a single blink of his eyes and with that, he leaves.

Jesus. What is his deal?

You clear your throat and compose yourself. You quietly close the door after he’s left, kicking your shoes off and make your way down the corridor, peeking into rooms until you find a door that’s shut. You try to open it but it’s locked so you quietly sigh before bringing your fist up and knocking softly on it.

“Can it wait ‘till tomorrow, hyung?” Jungkook’s groggy voice is muffled from behind the door.

Your chest tightens at his voice.

You shakily exhale as you drop your hand, your other hand still sitting on the door handle. “It’s me. Can we talk?”

Instant shuffling behind the closed door has butterflies eating your stomach from the inside out, your fingers tightly wrapped around the straps of your purse as you forcefully swallow down the bubble of panic that’s threatening to rush up your throat.

The door swings open and you’re met with bed hair, shirtless, sleepy Jungkook.

Your eyes drop down his figure but you quickly return them to his eyes, your lips pressed into a thin line.

His eyeballs are practically bulging out of his eye sockets at the sight of you here and his brows are dramatically pinched together but he quickly composes himself and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Why are you here?”

It stings, it does. You realize that asking him that day what he was doing at your place must’ve hurt this way. Burned this way. Stung this way.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out, your hands in front of your thighs with your fingers wrapped tightly around the straps of your purse as you swing it back and forth to distract yourself from the nerves creeping up on you.

He tilts his head to the side, parting his lips to answer your call but he closes his lips right away. The fact that he’s not replying is enough to have your heart stuttering in its rhythm, veins pulsating with fear. What if he tells you to get out like you did?

His silence makes you speak up and say, “I’m sorry.”

His expression doesn’t change but there’s a glint of surprise in his eyes. “For?”

“Everything.” Your reply is immediate.

He slowly crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that, Y/N,” he says with a stern tone in his voice that has your stomach twisting into a wringed out shirt.

You sigh as you watch him step backwards into the room again, leaving the door open for you, a wordless invitation.

He doesn’t even turn the light on, just goes back to sit on the bed but he reaches over to turn the flashlight of his phone on and turns his phone face down on the bed so it lights up some of the room.

You walk in and close the door behind you, looking around the room. You haven’t been here in a long time but not much has changed.

Your feet bring you to the foot of his bed, his eyes staring you down the entire time. “I’m sorry for sending you away and not hearing you out. I shouldn’t have done that.” You place your purse on his bed but stand in front of it still, anxiously fidgeting with the strap.

He continues to quietly stare at you which makes you continue, “I was,” you pause to sigh deeply, “I was upset because you didn’t talk to me.”

He exhales deeply and looks to the side, your eyes watching as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “You told me we’d talk about it when I was back.”

“I know I did but I thought I’d at least hear from you if it was going to last that long. I was waiting,” you explain, not missing the way Jungkook has nervously started nibbling on his bottom lip.

“I just thought that last time…” You shake your head as you continue, “I thought last time was different.”

He slowly nods as he returns the eye contact finally. “You’re right, it was,” he quietly says. “I’m sorry. I should have reached out. I was just scared you’d push me away again if I reached out to you just because you said–” he pauses as he glances at you and then turns his head to look away again, “those words. That you’d think I was too excited or something.”

Hoseok — a complete stranger to him — read Jungkook better than you. You should be fucking ashamed.

You gently rub your eyes to not mess up your eye makeup and then walk around the bed, moving to stand in front of him. He refuses to look at you, though, staring at his lap as if it’s playing a movie to him.

“Jungkook,” you start, “look at me.”

He slowly turns his head and tilts his chin to look up at you. If he notices the way your hand slightly hesitates before reaching out to him, he doesn’t show nor comment on it.

Your fingers delicately tuck his long black hair behind his ear, mindlessly playing with the shell of his ear.

“Will you hear me out this time?” he asks you, eyes twinkling with hope.

You shake your head. You don’t want to hear him out because he doesn’t owe you an explanation. “You don’t owe me anything, Jungkook. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

He wraps his fingers around your wrist as your own fingers play with his locks. “I want to. Will you let me?”

Your chest deflates as you deeply exhale at his stubbornness. “Okay.”

He reaches for his phone that he left face turned down on his nightstand and hands it to you. He’s telling you to check his phone to prove his innocence.

You shake your head as you push his phone away, you’re not that kind of person. You’re aware you and Jungkook don’t have the healthiest relationship but snooping in each other’s phones is something neither of you ever felt the need to do.

However, Jungkook is determined. “Just look at it,” he pleads.

Your eyes shift downwards as you curiously glance at the screen. It’s a text conversation between him and someone.

René.

You realize he’s showing you the full text conversation that you read last time and there are no replies from Jungkook at all.

[1:04AM]

René (AUS)

Why didn’t you tell me you were back in Australia? We could’ve gotten together and hung out!! Let me know when you’re back x

[1:06AM]

René (AUS)

Missed call (2)

You rub the scrunch between your brows and take a deep breath as the reality of the situation dawns on you. His words play on a continuous loop in your head.

I didn’t fuck anyone.

Jungkook had never denied it before. He would usually be quiet if you’d imply he’d been with someone. And if you think about it, that wasn’t even the part that made you upset. It was not hearing from him at all.

You push his phone back toward his chest when the text messages have mockingly stared at you long enough. “I’m sorry, Kook. I was such an ass.”

You continue, “This doesn’t change anything, I’m still a prick for not considering your feelings.”

He looks up at you through his pretty lashes, teeth chewing on his bottom lip which has reddened from all that nibbling.

You mindlessly press your thumb into his chin to make him release his bottom lip as you conclude, “Even if you did do whatever I thought it was you were doing, you have every right to. You don’t owe me a goddamn thing.”

“Just stop.” He shakes his head. “Don’t say that.”

You sigh as he dismisses your statements, he’s going to keep dismissing them so there’s no point in pressing him about it. “Well, I’m sorry. Are we good?” you ask as you tuck another lock of his hair behind his ear.

A soft smile stretches onto his pretty lips, his eyes glimmering like he’s holding the entire galaxy in his gaze, which is you. “Of course we are,” he says, eyelashes fluttering at you and if it was any quieter, you could probably hear the blinking of his eyelids. “Did you come all the way out here to apologize?” he adds, his voice quiet and uncertain.

No, you didn’t.

You slowly nod, sliding your fingers to his earlobe and down his jaw, rubbing his chin with your thumb. “I did.”

He nods his head and you notice the scrunch in his nose for a split second, a habit he has when he becomes emotional. Becoming emotional is the last thing you need right now so you avert your gaze to your purse on his mattress. “When will I see you again?” he quietly asks.

“You know where I live,” you say, telling him he’s always welcome whenever he needs you. You drop your hand from his face and reach for your purse, slinging it over your shoulder as you head towards the door again. The sound of him following behind you reaches your ears, letting you know he at least wants to walk you out.

It’s a direct parallel of whenever you walk him out of your house.

However, you change your mind and decide that right now is the best time to respond to his unanswered question.

“Actually,” you say as you turn on your heels, “I came for one more thing.” You take his phone out of his hand to use his flashlight.

He halts in his steps behind you and raises his brows, eyes shifting to your hands as you pull out a box from your purse.

You hold it out to him, shaking it slightly when it takes him too long to take from your hands. A frown sits on his brows for a moment but he takes it into his hands nonetheless, opening it to look inside of it.

It’s your estranged necklace, the one he gave you three years ago.

He glances up at you, his pretty eyes once full of love and hope now full of hurt and despair. His misunderstanding squeezes your heart until you almost can’t breathe under his pained gaze.

“You’re giving this back to me?” he asks, voice so small and barely loud enough to be heard.

You shake your head. “I’m asking you to help put it on me.” You turn the flashlight around to aim it at your face, allowing him to finally see the tear-shaped sapphire earrings he got you hanging from your earlobes for the first time since you walked in.

It had been dark in the room so he never noticed you wearing them until this very moment.

His eyes jump from your right ear to your left, the reality of the situation dawning on him like a pile of bricks. The smile that suddenly stretches onto his lips singlehandedly glues all the pieces of your broken heart together again.

He can’t contain his wide smile, fingers scrambling as he takes it out of the box. He throws the unimportant box somewhere on his bed and unclasps the necklace, wrapping the chain around your neck from the front, never breaking eye contact with you as his fingers fasten the chain behind your neck. He adjusts the pretty necklace around your neck and reaches up to play with the earring in your right ear.

You can’t help but smile at his giddy reaction, your fingers coming up to fidget with the pendant.

His hand drops from your earlobe to his side, fingers pinching at the fabric of his swears. “Is this a yes?”

(Read: He’s referring to the question he wrote on the post-it note.)

You shrug your shoulders with a smug grin and add, “Clearly it’s not a no.”

A soft chuckle leaves his mouth as he shakes his head at your teasing. His hands reach out and hold your waist, pulling you closer to him and your heart jolts in between your lungs at his proximity. He nudges your nose with his and respectfully drops his hands to your hips.

“Will you let me kiss you?”

The two of you giggle when you realize you’ve both asked each other the same question in unison. You bring your hands up to cup his face and press your lips to his.

He pulls you closer, closing the distance between the two of you as he tilts his head. His hands squeeze your hips and you hum into the kiss, moving your hands behind his neck so you can wrap your arms around his neck.

You pull away slowly and move to cup his cheeks, rubbing the apple of his burning cheek with your thumb.

“Stay the night. We’ll talk some more in the morning,” he says carefully, hoping you’ll agree.

You tilt your head to the side as his offer reaches your ears, a thinking pout on your lips before you part them to say, “I don’t think Min Yoongi would appreciate me staying over. He hates my guts.”

He stares at you for a moment longer and then glances at the wall. He knows you’re right. “He doesn’t hate y–”

You cut him off. “Yes, he does.”

“He hates what I let the relationship do to me. It’s not anything against you.” He tries to reason but you can’t forget the way Yoongi looks at you like he wishes you would just disappear into thin air.

He must’ve noticed the uncertainty in your expression. “I’ll lock the door,” he adds as he nods over your shoulder at the door.

“What are we, teenagers?” you laugh, rubbing his chest to make him look at you and he does.

He kisses his teeth after being in deep thought. “Okay, then just stay for a little while.” He pulls you down onto his bed, making you let out a surprised yelp.

You fall on top of him, hands still on his chest. You glance down at him and he’s got a shit-eating grin on his lips. He whimpers when you bring your hand down to slap his chest before you roll off of him to take your jacket off.

You toss the article of clothing somewhere across the room and your attention is disrupted when he wraps his hand around your wrist to pull you down and back into his embrace.

He pulls your back flat into his chest, arm hooked around your waist and his lips pressed into the back of your neck. He inhales through his nose and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

“I missed you so much.” He leaves a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your neck, not paying any mind to the goosebumps that he’s awakening directly under the soft flesh of his lips.

You hum in response and let your eyes flutter close. “I haven’t had sex in months so if you don’t stop kissing me right now, I’ll ride you for three hours.”

He chuckles and pulls away to say, “Aren’t we moving too fast?”

You roll your eyes at his stupid joke as you wiggle out of his grasp and sit up, your gaze shifting to him next to you, eyes scanning his cocky face. “You fucked me for two years, Jungkook.”

“Still.” He rolls onto his back to be able to look at you better and moves his hands up to place the back of his head on top of his palms, allowing you to look at the clear outline of his biceps and triceps. He adds, “We just started dating, you horndog.”

“Right,” you say as you mockingly nod your head and get up from his bed, starting to head out of his room. “Guess I’ll just ask Hoseok.”

By the time the ruffling of his sheets have reached your ears, you haven’t even made it halfway through the room. Jungkook drags you back by your bicep, pulling you backwards into the room. You let out a quiet shriek when he spins you in one swift motion, hooks his hands around your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the dresser and holding you tightly by your waist, fingers draped over your ribcage. “You just love exploring my limits, don’t you?”

You chuckle and reach up to tuck his beautiful hair behind his ears with both hands. “You’re hot when you’re jealous.”

He shakes his head with a smile stretched onto lips, wrapping his arm around the perimeter of your waist to push your chest flat into his. “Yeah? I could also just text René right now,” he says as he shrugs his shoulders before adding, “ask what she’s wearing.”

Your face twists into a scowl as you press your hands into his chest in an attempt to push him off but there’s no strength behind the push because you don’t want to push him off and luckily, Jungkook is not budging.

You huff and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his jaw and leaving a trail of soft kisses on his honey skin. “You could but you won’t.” Your breath tickles him, apparent by how quickly you can get goosebumps to pop out of his skin.

“Hm,” he hums nonchalantly and tilts his head to give you more access. He adds, “You sound awfully confident.”

“Yep,” you retort right away, dropping your arms and placing your hands on top of the dresser, leaning back on them as you look at him. “Want me to show you how confident I am?”

He cocks his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side, contemplating your words. “And how would you show me?”

You blink at him, fluttering your eyelashes innocently as you push him back and hop off the dresser. You turn him around and press his back into the dresser.

You slowly sink down, squatting in front of him and caging his calves in between your thighs in the process.

You look up at him with an innocent twinkle in your eyes as you reach for the waistband of his sweats, waiting for him to give you the green light.

“Shit,” he breathes out before eagerly nodding.

A soft giggle pushes past your lips as you start tugging his sweats down his legs and letting them pool at his ankles. You’re faced with his black Calvin Klein boxers and fuck, does he look good.

You tuck your fingers under the hem of his CK boxers and slowly tug them down his legs as well. His dick isn’t hard yet but it’s slowly growing.

You place your hands on the outer-sides of his bare thighs and move your head downwards to take the head of his dick into your mouth without using your hands, pretty eyes still staring into his.

He curses quietly and places one of his hands on your head, staring down at you to watch your every move.

You keep your eyes glued to him, lashes kissing your brows with the same innocent glimmer in your pretty eyes. You continue to move your head down his shaft, feeling it harden in your mouth and grow heavy with blood on your tongue.

His dick starts rapidly inflating in your mouth but you’ve already completely lathered it in your saliva, making it easier for you to pump his base as you continue to suck on the first few inches of his hardened dick.

You slide your tongue down his shaft, tracing one of the veins down to his balls as you gently suck on them whilst pumping his shaft, your eyes never breaking the intense lock you have his gaze in.

He winces in sensitivity and his thighs tense in pleasure as you continue to suck on his balls, your thumb gracefully rubbing over the head of his dick every time your hand makes it up his shaft.

“Quit teasing me,” he demands but it comes out in a pleading tone, his hips slightly jerking as he tries to fight the urge to thrust into your hand.

“Quit teasing me, what?” you press a kiss to the side of his shaft, eyes menacingly mocking him as you refuse to look anywhere else. You love when Jungkook submits to you because he rarely does.

He grunts in annoyance. “Quit teasing me, please.” His hand on your head gently strokes your cranium, hopeful that you’ll comply.

But you have other plans.

You haven’t taken him into your mouth since you’ve started teasing because the moment you do, he’ll make you eat your own shit by mercilessly fucking your throat. And you’re in need of teasing him some more before you let that happen.

You lick a wet stripe up the downside of his dick ‘till you make it to his tip, collecting all the precum that had started oozing out of his dick onto your tongue. You teasingly lick all around the head, the tip of your tongue sliding in between his slit which makes him hiss.

“Y/N,” he warns, trying to sound stern but his mouth betrays him when a soft, desperate moan pushes past his lips right after he says your name.

You simply hum in response. He can sound stern all he wants to but you’re the one in control, not him.

One of your hands abandons his thigh, letting the cold air hit the warm spot on his skin that your hand has left and you bring it up to massage his balls, tongue still wickedly teasing his slit.

You innocently blink up at him as you start pressing kisses to his tip, the precum sticking to your lips as you leave a sloppy trail of kisses down his shaft.

“Y/N, please,” he whimpers.

The moment his plea reaches your ears, you part your lips wide enough for him to fit through but you don’t move. It’s a wordless invitation for him to come use your mouth however he pleases.

He gets the memo right away and doesn’t waste any time to slide right into your mouth, holding your head in place as he thrusts into your mouth, groaning when the head of his dick slams into your soft palate.

You blink your tears away but it’s useless as he continues to assault the back of your throat, tears uncontrollably spilling from your eyes and rolling down your hot cheeks, ruining your makeup in the process.

You tap his thigh twice and he understands, halting his thrusts and glancing down at you to check. Once you take his dick back into your mouth and move your own head down his shaft again after catching your breath, he throws his head back and lets you suck him off to the best of your abilities.

Your makeup has undoubtedly smudged all over your face but you don’t mind, not when Jungkook loves it. You gracefully move your mouth down his dick, committing the feeling of his hardened shaft effortlessly sliding over your tongue to memory.

He moans and groans a few more times and that tells you he’s nearing his orgasm. But just as you’re about to speed up, he stops you.

“I want to cum inside of you,” he tells you before sliding out of your sloppy mouth.

You try to catch your breath and nod as you wipe your chin and mouth with the back of your hand before rising to your feet.

“I don’t like that I’m completely naked and you’re fully clothed.” He reminds you that you are – in fact – fully clothed and he is – in fact – buttnaked.

“I don’t know, seems kind of fair to me.” You shrug your shoulders once you tug your shirt off and throw it somewhere in the room. You bring your fingers up to right under your eyes to try and clean up some of the makeup stains on your hot cheeks. “‘Cause aren’t you a pervert, anyway?”

He scoffs as he crosses his arms. “I’m the pervert?”

He takes a breath to continue his argument but it’s abruptly cut off when you unclasp your bra and toss it at him, watching as it gracefully drapes over his shoulder.

His eyes drop down to your chest as if he’s forgotten you even have eyes before his hands wrap around your waist and push you toward his bed with a quickness.

You let yourself fall back against the soft mattress but you can barely enjoy the feeling before his fingers tug your pants down your legs. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he mindlessly tugs your jeans off your ankles, angrily tossing it aside.

A soft giggle leaves your lips as you watch him be passive aggressive with your pants but not for long when his eyes shift to yours.

“Something funny?” he quips, eyes dropping down to the only piece of fabric that’s hindering what he wants to do to you.

You glance down at your panties before back up at him. Your hand travels down your stomach to your pelvis, slowly sliding your panties to the side, allowing him to see what a mess he’s made between your legs.

His tongue peeks out at the corner of his lips, sliding along his bottom lip as he eyes your attention-seeking sex. He hooks his fingers around your panties and slides them down your legs, tugging them off your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor over his shoulder.

He hunches over and positions his mouth right above your pussy before spitting on it, watching your legs jerk as he rubs it into your already soaked sex with his fingers. He knows you like it and he’s right, it drives you up the fucking wall every time he does.

He straightens his back and positions himself at your sticky sex, rubbing the head of his dick up and down your wet slit.

He wastes no time as he looks into your eyes when he pushes in, watching your face and how your eyes widen, your mouth falls open, your body jerks.

“Jungkook.” His name leaves your mouth in a desperate moan as he bottoms out, his brows furrowed and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

He lets out a low grunt and after a while of adjusting to the feeling of being inside of you again, he starts thrusting into you.

Your eyes shift to where you’re connected, intently watching how his dick disappears in and out of you. A pathetic moan falls from your lips, a surprised yelp following directly after when he grabs a handful of your breast, massaging it in his palm as he fucks into you.

His hips speed up in pace, the sound of his skin slamming into yours has your eyes rolling back and your arms give out, making you fall back against the mattress, sprawled out in front of him again.

He lets go of your breast and pushes one of your legs back, hooking it around his arm to keep it in place and mercilessly starts pounding into you, face hovering right over yours. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your eyes flutter open at his words, the only thing you can think about now is the stretching in your walls and his beautiful face in front of yours.

“You belong to me, don’t you?” he muses, face closing in on your neck as he presses soft kisses to your sweaty skin. The soft whines and whimpers leaving your mouth makes him fuck you harder yet gentler, full of love yet full of hate, want but also need.

You gather your breath to answer his question, in the mood to tease him now that he’s finally yours again. “No.”

Teasing each other is your love language.

His hips slow down and his face appears in front of yours again with a frown. His jet black eyes staring you down makes you want to sink into his mattress and disappear off the face of the Earth. He arrogantly clicks his tongue as he says, “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you hum, closing your eyes as you move your hands up to the back of his neck to play with his hair, twirling his locks around your fingers.

He mockingly nods at your teasing. “You know damn well no one else fucks you like I do.” His thrusts get harsher, eyes dropping to your breasts bouncing from the momentum of his pounding.

You whimper at the switch, the rough pounding makes the wetness squelch extra loud and you’ve made a disgusting mess against his sex with your slick.

“You know, Hoseok was pretty goo–”

“But who’s the one fucking you right now?”

His rebuttal has you dead silent aside from the occasional, pathetic moans and heavy breathing. You open your eyes and the first thing you’re met with are his own, black and frustrated.

“The love of my life.”

Your reply to him has his hips stuttering in their rhythm, the corners of his lips twitching as he tries to fight the smile threatening to creep onto his lips. In order to hide his smile, he starts leaning down and presses his lips against yours in a sweet kiss, a stark contrast to the rough pounding of his hips.

Make-up sex really is the best.

You decide it’s enough teasing and wrap your legs around his waist, caging him in between your thighs as you pull him even closer. “I love you so much,” you mumble against his lips, arms wrapped around his neck to fully keep him trapped in your embrace.

He nods at the words, his pelvis still repeatedly slamming into yours. His hips slow down but the power behind them never subsides, the rough pounding has all your nerve endings set alight and your thighs jerk violently when the head of his dick barely grazes your cervix with each thrust.

“I’m gonna cum,” he mumbles against your lips, allowing you to lick into his mouth. You clench around his dick, walls wrapping tightly around him. He groans into your mouth, it’s your way of milking him of every drop and he knows it.

“Harder,” you moan once he pulls away from your lips, his brows knitting together as he complies, roughly slamming his hips into yours.

His breath is getting heavier by the second and his dick twitches in between your walls, alerting you that he’s seconds away from his climax. “I love you so much,” he mumbles as he ejaculates, painting your insides with his cum.

He keeps thrusting and lets long groans and moans leave his lips as he fucks his load into you, your soft whimpers in his ear are the cherry on top that drives him insane.

He gives you a couple more thrusts before he fully comes to a halt, face buried in the crook of your neck.

The synced heavy breathing, his proximity, the reality of the situation, it all has tears pricking in your eyes.

He slowly lifts his head off your shoulder, eyes searching yours. “You haven’t cum yet, hm?”

You shake your head in response.

“Remember when you teased me while sucking my dick 20 minutes ago?” he asks as he unhooks your legs from his waist.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you listen to him, already knowing where this is headed.

“Get ready,” is all he says.

He pulls out and drags you all the way to the edge of his bed, forcefully shoving his fingers into your mouth while the other wastes no time traveling to your sex and beginning its torturous assault on your sensitive clit.

Your throat is ruined from the screams you’ve let out when he continues to edge and overstimulate you for the next 30 minutes, watching in satisfaction as you writhe and squirm under his touch.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You wrap the towel around your frame as you leave his bathroom, eyes glued to him as he’s staring at the ceiling before his eyes shift to you. He turns on his side and props his head up on one hand, a smile on his lips as he watches you dig into his dresser for something to wear.

“When do you leave again?” you ask quietly as you pull out a pair of his sweats.

He stares at your back for a moment longer before answering, “Next Thursday.”

(Read: For context, it’s Friday right now.)

Your hands find one of his bigger shirts and you pull it out, placing it next to the sweats you chose on top of the dresser.

You continue, “Where are you going?”

He thinks about his answer for a few seconds. “Brazil,” he says. This conversation happens every time and yet he answers like it’s the first time you’re asking him these questions.

You slowly nod as you consider asking him what you want to ask him.

“How long will you be staying there?” you ask as you drop your towel and slide his sweats and shirt on, ditching your bra and underwear.

He looks up at you as he says, “I’m not sure, probably a week or two.”

Your feet slowly take you to him and you take your seat on his bed right next to him.

You nod your head in understanding again before you reach out to tuck his hair behind his ear, addicted to the way his soft hair feels against your skin.

“Will you let me come with you?”

Your question has him perking up like a cartoon character, lips twitching, eyes wide, ears expanding.

Ever since you met him, you had never flown out with him anywhere. You love change but you also love the comfort of your own home.

But love is about compromise, is it not?

He instantly shoots up in his bed and lunges at you, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame, face buried in your hair. He deeply inhales, his arms almost crushing your ribs, his pounding heart beating against your chest.

His breath has gotten shaky but you can tell that he’s fighting the urge to bawl in your presence. And eventually, he finally finds the voice that abandoned him in his time of need.

“I would love that.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

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